“She asked my opinion on a scene between two kids. I made a suggestion and then … she had me act it out for them.”

“How did that go?”

“It was fun! I actually stayed for a bit and watched. It made me even sadder I didn’t get to do that. Go to school here, learn that way.”

“This is so weird. Obviously I remember you doing it. We used to sit in the back of Professor Lehman’s class and imitate her.”

I think of her lilting English-Irish accent and say, “I can see that.”

“Do the scene again, but this time try to move less like an ostrich, yes?” she says, in a perfect imitation of Professor Lehman. “Once more please, try not to sound as if your mouth is full of ice cubes.”

I laugh, and she does too. “Oh my God! Yes! I can totally see it.”

She shakes her head, nostalgic. “She’s something else.”

There’s a long silence.

“Come on, let me help with the show,” I say, pushing her a little on the shoulder. “I’m good at this!”

“You really want to?”

“Yes!” Of course I do. And honestly it sounds like a shitshow.

“Okay. Sure. Maybe tomorrow? Or, no, the stage will be booked tomorrow. But we don’t necessarily need the stage—”

“How about at my place? At the cottage?” If she used to live there, then maybe being back will shake up her positive memories of all our good times.

“Yeah, sounds good. Noon?”

“Perfect.”

“Okay,” she says on a long exhale. “I’m going to go reprieve Theo. Thanks for coming.”

“Of course.”

Of course. I mean. Where the hell else would I be, given the chance?

She goes off, running with open arms to her daughter when she gets close. Kiera is deep in flirtation with Nial. I go inside and ask someone where the bathroom is. They look at me like I’m crazy, and then point me down the hall.

I can’t figure out why at first, but then remember that they probably think I ought to know where it is. In Aimee’s home. That, or I forgot to call it the jacks.

There’s a line at the bathroom, so I follow my instincts and go upstairs, looking for another one. I have a feeling there’s one up and to the left.

I find a door shut with the light on. I don’t know if I’m right that it’s the bathroom or not, so I wait awkwardly for a moment. Right when I’m about to give up, the door opens and Cillian comes out.

“Oh. Hi.”

“Hi,” I say.

We then move past each other, swapping places. I’m about to shut the door when I see he’s still standing there.

A muscle twitches in his jaw.

“What is it?” I ask.