She could tell how much yearning there was in me, how unsure I was. Her voice was patient. “I’ve had a long life, and it’s had its grand moments, as well as awful ones. I’ve been lucky, I was able to leave the bad behind me. Lucky that I had readers and could keep doing what I wanted.”

“Lucky, you’re more than that. You’re—” I was going to say, a genius.

“Carla, don’t take me for something I’m not. Don’t make people into idols. It doesn’t do anybody any good.”

“I won’t,” I said, too quickly, because how was anyone to prevent me? There was so much more I wanted to ask her. But I already sensed what I would come to learn later: how resistant she was to being known, how she guarded herself from any easy intimacy. And of course I was the opposite, in spite of the shyness, which was not natural to me and was soon overcome. But I didn’t want to be overeager, like a Labrador retriever, shoving my nose underneath people’s hands, begging for attention.

Now that Viridian was no longer speaking, she looked tired, even old, a suddenly old woman, and my heart sank. It was as if everything had just now declared itself mortal. I said I would finish up in the garden, and she said yes, thank you, that would be lovely.

As I was clearing the plates and glasses, she said, “You remember Ed and Doug, from the party? They’re stopping by. Maybe you’ll get to see them and say hello.”

I heard a car pull up while I was still tending to the plants. Ed and Doug’s, I imagined. I took my time, hoping I’d have a chance to see them. I still didn’t want to make too free with the house and go sauntering in looking for them. I was finishing up with watering when Doug came through the breezeway and opened the door of the screened porch. “Hi there. Viridian wants to know if you’re staying for supper.”

Was it getting that late? It was. “Ah, no, I need to be heading home.” I had a new attack of embarrassment, wondering if I looked like I was loitering around waiting for invitations.

“You’re sure? Ed brought one of his stuffed manicotti dishes. It’s killer.”

“I can’t, really. But tell her thank you, would you?”

“I will.” He didn’t leave right away but came out and took a seat on a bench. “It’s so much hotter here than the city. I always forget.”

“I don’t get down there much,” I said, just to be making conversation. I was trying to take care of all the dry areas without overdoing it. You were supposed to be mindful of water restrictions and I didn’t want Viridian getting nasty letters from the water district.