“No, no, it’s not that. I don’t mind making one phone call for you. That’s not the issue.” He laughed glumly. “I mean, I’m not standing on some moral high ground, we all know that.”

“So what is it?” Everything had felt so within her reach . . . but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was slipping away.

“It’s that . . .” He hesitated. Lu poured Anthony a glass of water and set it in front of him. He nodded to thank her. “I want to be careful to put this the right way. It’s that . . . I think you need a real plan here. I’m not sure how long you can kick this can down the street, even if we make one phone call today and that works out. Then what?”

Then what? It was a fair question. Lu hadn’t let herself think too far ahead.

“There are lots of things I wish I’d done differently, but the main one is I wish I’d never started deceiving anyone,” said Anthony.

“Anthony,” said Lu. “At some point you have to stop beating yourself up over this.”

“I don’t,” he said. “I don’t have to stop yet, because I never really started. I made a huge mistake, and I didn’t own it, and then I got swept up in this whole mess, and it ended up taking me down. I still haven’t owned it, not really. I’ve just been hiding from it.”

Lu considered this. Maybe Anthony was right. But wasn’t her situation different? Was it different?

“I think you need to find out sooner rather than later if you can do this book as Lu Trusdale, the former Dinner by Dad. Or, I don’t know, Lu Trusdale writing as Dinner by Dad. Or something.” He drank the water and watched her over the rim of the glass.

She sat for several seconds with what Anthony had said, letting it settle into her.

“I don’t want you to be right,” she said slowly, “because I’m scared. But I do think you’re right. I do. I do think I need to think carefully about what to do next.”

Impulsively, Lu hugged Anthony. She was just so grateful to have someone on her side—someone who listened without judging, someone who understood the complications of her situation and who was genuinely looking out for her, counseling her away from her worst instincts. She whispered, “Thank you!” into his soft gray T-shirt, and she took a deep breath, and she got ready to think.

Just then there came a sharp, bossy rapping on the cottage door. Lu pulled away from the hug and looked at Anthony, and Anthony looked at Lu.

“Who could that be?” asked Anthony.

The rapping came again. The door to the cottage opened, and into the room, like a hunk of seaweed flung upon the sand by a wave, came Lu’s mother-in-law.

“Nancy!” Lu said. “What are you doing here? The boys are at day camp!”

“I know perfectly well where the boys are,” snapped Nancy. “And here’s what else. I know what you’re up to too. And you are sorely mistaken if you think you’re going to get away with it.”