“No, I didn’t mean that.” Frowning as if irritated at himself, toying gently with his lips, he turned to look not so much at as into her. “Listen, why don’t you come to Boston?”

Having grown sensitive to pity, she couldn’t help responding sharply. “I have a job here.”

“Look, Annie, I don’t have much, but I could—”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She cut him off. “We’re not kids. We can’t live in the trees.”

He went quiet, rubbing his eyes. He looked tired, and all at once it was as if some kind of slippage had taken place and she found herself in another life, in which she was with this man and they had been having this same argument for too long.

He went to speak but stopped. After a moment, he said, “I have something to tell you: I met someone.”

“That girl with the hair like mine?”

“Rachel, yes. We’ve been dating for a little while, and about three weeks ago we decided to get married.”

Annie didn’t know what to say.

“It’s not fair to say that I had to convince myself she’s wonderful. She is. She’s incredibly smart, and…brave. A good strong person.”

Annie didn’t know why he was talking like this. It was perhaps only the second or third time in all the years she had known him that he had spoken in a serious, direct, considered way.

“But I realized I was feeling sorry for her. Not because she deserves pity, but because there was no”—he searched for the word—“focus to my feelings for her. No”—he rubbed the knuckles of his fisted hands together—“traction. It’s hard for me because I never really felt I deserved anything. Certainly not to be…to have people feel for me. Especially people as nice as Rachel. Or Nora. Anyone. I remember that day Lew and I were playing basketball in the rain and ended up wrestling each other in the mud—I was just getting to know him. I don’t think you could ever understand how happy I was. I had never had a friend before then. Ever. I was so happy I could hardly sleep for days.

“Anyway….” He looked annoyed, as if he had messed up what he had intended to say. “I don’t mean we should live in the trees in Boston. I mean we could live together.” He looked utterly miserable now.

She was confused. “Live with you and Rachel?”

“Oh, no. I’m not seeing Rachel anymore.”

“I’m married,” she said. Like a silly girl, her legs felt suddenly weak. “And you’re doing this because you feel sorry for me.”

“I’m not.”

“It’s impossible. People will know we’re not married. They’ll know this isn’t your baby.”

“We could try to keep him very tanned.”