“How about I walk up with you? I need to get moving, too.”

Viridian said as long as it wasn’t out of my way, and I held her terrycloth robe for her while she toweled off. Her body was spare, in the way that an older woman’s body can be, but her arms and legs were still strong and shapely. All that yoga, I imagined. She held on to me lightly for balance as she got her feet into plastic sandals. Then we started up the hill, Viridian talking about the other writers, about dinner and breakfast, about the stone-edged swimming pool that she meant to try sometime before she left. When we reached a small seating area halfway to the cabin, she said she’d like to stop and sit in the sun for just a bit.

“I can’t get my endurance back. It’s maddening.”

I said it was probably one of those slow, steady things, and after all she’d just gotten out of the hospital. Trying not to sound too cheery and encouraging. Nobody wanted to hear a lot of ignorant optimism.

“I suppose.” She didn’t try to pretend she found this convincing, and I didn’t try to argue her into it. I think that was one of the things she liked about me. I wasn’t very good at shining things up.

We sat without speaking for a time. It was a pleasant place to rest: a couple of bent twig armchairs in a sandy spot that offered a view of the sparkling river below us, and the farther green shore. The air was hot and smelled of pine and dry grass. Last night’s darkness had been mysterious and lonesome, but the daylight was pure joy.

“You’ve gotten to know Boone, haven’t you?”

I wasn’t expecting the question and it took me a moment to respond. “A little. Not well.”

“I worry about him.”

“Well, he worries about you.”

“I wish he wouldn’t. I’m not sure there’s much we can do for each other at this point.” She turned her head to look at me. “You know the story by now. How I didn’t raise him.” I ducked my head, meaning yes. “He tells everyone. That’s his right.”

I wished he hadn’t. It would have been simpler if I didn’t know. Or maybe if I had known everything, everyone’s motives and actions. As if you ever did.

Viridian said, “My son is my unfinished business. It’s nagging at me. It’s one of the things that burdens me.”

I didn’t ask what the others were. I thought she only wanted me to listen.

“He doesn’t stick with anything. Jobs. People. It’s always some new enthusiasm. New idea. Nothing’s ever enough. Did I ruin his life? Or would it have been worse if I’d stayed?”