Annie smiled at him. He glanced back at his mom. It was almost too intimate to look at her, as if he were watching her while she were alone and unaware. Every now and then she took in and released a deep, sighing breath.

“Going to see your friend today?” he asked.

She wasn’t paying attention and didn’t respond.

“Mom,” he called louder, “you going to see Caroline today?”

Glancing back, she nodded.

“Why don’t she ever come here?”

“Her husband, he’s ill.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I need to get away sometimes. I like to get away.”

“So is he ill or not?”

Annie came to her mom’s rescue. “Do we all have to suffer because you have a hangover?”

“Mom visits some woman every week for the past twenty years and we’ve never even seen her?”

“Well, now, Mr. I Wanna Know,” his mom said, “I didn’t know you so interested in my friends.”

“Do you have a picture of her?”

“What’s the big deal?” Annie said.

“Today”—his dad cut in, letting go of one half of his paper and stabbing his finger into the table—“today you stay here. Help me in the store.”

“She’s expecting me.”

“That’s it!” his dad shouted, slamming his hand down. “You stay here. Basta!”

Annie got up and took her plate to the sink. When she returned, she stood behind her dad, reaching around to massage his forehead. “You’re getting lines,” she said. “You’re going to end up looking like old Mr. Schull.”

His mom walked out of the kitchen and came back with her year-book, which she opened beside Frank’s plate. “This Caroline.” She pointed at a cheerleader standing next to her young self. He glanced briefly at this girl, but immediately looked back at his mom, Annie’s age, caught mid-leap. Happy.

“Joint disease he have, her husband. Also she have to look after her old mother-in-law.”

Frank met her eyes, full of furious hurt at being questioned. He couldn’t see any trace of a lie in her face, but doubt scratched and scurried deep within him. He had to be sure.

“Okay,” Frank said.

As soon as his mom left to catch the noon train to Baxter, Frank drove straight to The Lodge. He hid his car up a logging road, made his way through the old miniature golf course to cabin four, and climbed onto the roof. He had kissed Esta here on their first date. In their two years together how many times had she said, looking him right in the eyes, that she loved him? They had been broken up now for as long as they had been together, but he still thought about her every day. The sound of a car drew his attention. He recognized Bennet’s green Bel Air winding its way up to lodge nine, the most secluded. Suddenly light-headed, he scrambled down and sprinted through the woods. He got to the cabin too late; the Bel Air was parked out front. The curtains were pulled. Should he wait until they came out? But how would he stop them from seeing him? Maybe he wanted them to see him.