Hal read my mind and answered one without me asking. “I have my own apartment,” he said, looking up from his fork and knife. “The kids live in the house, and Audrey and I alternate weeks living with them there. Although somehow Audrey seems to have more time with them than I do.”

The more he said her name, the less I liked it. One more glass of wine wouldn’t hurt. “You don’t see them as much as you’d like?”

“Oh, yes, we have a great time when they’re at the house. But I’m at work. The kids come and go. They have their activities, that sort of thing.” Hal must have seen my confused face. He added, “They’re busy. Homework. Friends. Concerts. They’re in sports.”

We chewed on that. Hal shrugged. I smiled and watched him skewer a couple of potatoes and swirl them in the bloody juice from his piece of beef. “So it sounds like you’re basically living and acting as if you were divorced.”

“Yes, I guess you could say so.”

“Then why not go ahead and do it?” The words came out before I had a chance to stop them.

Hal choked and took up his water glass.

“Sorry,” I said.

“No, it’s fine.” He composed himself. “I like your directness.”

“I shouldn’t have . . .”

“No, I’d like to answer you. I would. I just don’t know how to explain it.”

“Let’s talk about something else,” I said, but I made a mental note. The marriage and divorce situation would be important to resolve before getting serious with this man, no matter how charming and handsome he was.

“There are a number of financial issues that would need to be addressed, so that’s one thing,” he said, keeping the topic going.

“But people do that every day. That’s what lawyers are for, right?” I was curious (and right), though I also hated how it sounded like I was pressing for marriage. I wasn’t.

Hal paused and gazed at me. “Yes,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows. “That’s right.”

I’d finished eating the insides of my baked potato, so I cut into the skin, which was hard and crusty, just the way I liked it. As I lifted the fork to my mouth, I realized Hal had been watching me. As I chewed, I covered my mouth, afraid that pieces of food might escape. “Sorry,” I said. “You’ve gotta eat the whole potato to get all the nutrients. And I love the skin.”

“That’s fine. Go ahead.”

“It’s none of my business,” I said, giving up on the potato. “Sometimes I cross the line. Hazard of the job.” I lifted my empty wineglass. If only there had been a few more drops in there.

“Do you want another? Or any dessert?” he asked.

I shook my head. “This was perfect,” I said.