In the months that passed, Linnea had discovered she was not good at long-distance relationships. She needed to feel the comfort of an arm around her, to hear a laugh shared just between the two of them, to see that telling, knowing glance across the room that made her blood race. Even video chats were no match for the power of the senses.

Truth was, she’d been so consumed by her new job at the South Carolina Aquarium, she didn’t miss dating. Linnea, too, was in her career-building stage of life. She’d found her dream job. In fact, when they spoke, both she and Gordon often said how lucky they were to love their jobs. She felt like they understood each other. And she wondered if they were becoming in fact more best friends than lovers.

Still, as the months passed, they held tight to the promise that Gordon would return to South Carolina in April to resume his research on marine animals. All would be well when they were together again, she hoped.

But again, the pandemic threatened. No one knew for certain how long the restrictions would last. Linnea held the phone closer, wishing she could see Gordon’s face. He had such expressive eyes. She needed to get John out of her head and see Gordon tonight. Gordon’s eyes were blue, not green. His hair was red, not dark auburn.

Linnea had the phone against her ear while her call to Gordon rang. She stood at the kitchen stove boiling water. According to the files Cara had left her, plain noodles with butter was a favorite dish of Hope’s. She glanced across the room into the three-seasons porch and saw Hope sprawled on the floor with her crayons, coloring a picture for John. The game had distracted her from homesickness.

“Hello!” Linnea said into the phone.

“At last. I thought we’d never get a connection tonight. How are you?”

Linnea told Gordon all that had transpired since their last phone call. “The virus is becoming real. We’re waiting to see if David caught it, so Hope is staying here with me while he quarantines.”

“You’re a nanny now?” he asked, amused.

“More than a nanny. This is full-time care. Poor Hope, I think the separation from her mother is coming hard on her. She’s homesick.”

“You said she’s six?”

“Yes.”

“Tender age. I was sent to boarding school at eight. I sympathize with her.” Linnea couldn’t imagine sending her child away so young. “They’ve closed the schools, so she’s home all the time. That’s a lot of disruption.”

“We’re under bloody lockdown here,” Gordon said, frustration ringing in his voice. “The university will be canceling classes for the rest of the year.” He snorted. “They’re taking their bloody time announcing it.”

Linnea added the noodles to the boiling water. She loved Gordon’s accent, and had to smile when he used British swearwords. “I’m worried about Cooper. Are the foreigners being sent home?”

“I’m sure they will be. He should make plans to leave now. While he can. It’s chaos at the airports.”