I did look up at her then. “Just remember,” she said. “Nobody is ever going to love you passionately for being nice.” She stood, brushing herself off. “Don’t work too much longer, come in and have some lemonade.”

After she’d gone inside, I tried to sort out what she’d said. I thought I only fell all over myself trying to be nice when I was around Viridian.

It was the time of day I found myself thinking about Aaron. How I’d always head back to him when I was done working, how I missed that whole part of my day and my life. I could text him right now, ask him if he wanted to meet for dinner, see what came of it. But I was still hurt and stubborn and I wanted to show him I had a life of my own, a life without him.

I was sweeping up and gathering my tools when Ed and Doug’s car, a Mazda MX-5 Miata, came through the gate. I hadn’t known they were coming. Ed was driving. He parked next to the gap in the fence and waved to me. “Hello stranger.”

“Hello yourself.”

He got out, as did his passenger. It wasn’t Doug. The man was a little taller, a little heavier, with a wide forehead. An oversized pair of sunglasses hid the rest of his face. He was smiling as he walked toward me. “It’s the ninja,” he said.

And while my brain was processing this and trying to fit everything together, I heard the door open behind me and Viridian stepped out. “Hello hello! Carla, I want you to meet my son.”

Boone

I turned from the man to Viridian and then back again. “We met already. Well not really. Hi.” I was doing my usual feeble job of handling social ceremonies.

“Pleasure,” he said, shaking hands with me. “Boone.”

“Carla.”

Viridian looked from me to her son. “When was this?”

“At Ed’s party,” I explained. “But just for a minute.”

“How fortunate,” Viridian said, “that you had the chance.”

Neither man spoke. Something had changed that fast and no one looked as if they wanted to be there. Ed lifted a shopping bag. “We brought you some wine. And bread. And antipasti.”

“I would have fixed something fancy, if I’d had more warning,” Viridian said. “Any time in the last, what, two weeks?”

I excused myself to go check the sprinklers out back. I must have done something wrong, but I wasn’t sure what. I watched them file into the screen porch. Viridian opened the door and waited for me to join them. I tried to read her face, but she was capable of being formidably inexpressive when she chose, as she did now. “Come in and talk to Boone. He lives in New York,” she said, indicating her son. “At least, the last I heard.”