Caroline hitched the pack off her shoulder and carefully set it in the back seat of her ancient Citroën. The car smelled of worn, sun-roasted leather and cigarettes. Caroline put on her sunglasses and lit up a Chesterfield. Amazingly, given the studied, careful way she did most things, she never used a seat belt, while Jane, a slob by comparison, had an absolute mania for them. Especially when she was driving with someone as reckless behind the wheel as Caroline. Once Jane had strapped herself in with the quaint lap belt, she pulled the bottle cover out of her bag. If Caroline weren’t here, she’d rush back and toss it at the woman.

“Don’t give it a second thought,” Caroline said, looking over. “Two dollars?”

“Twelve. I talked her down from twenty-five.”

Caroline shook her head. “The farmer’s market committee is trying to think of a way to keep her out next year.” The engine turned over and sputtered to life and there was that odd Citroën lift and they were off. Caroline went through a stop sign, not obliviously, Jane noted, but aggressively. It was nice to know that even Caroline wasn’t immune to road rage.

“I don’t know how much more evidence of consumer fraud you’d need than this,” Jane said. “Keep it, and I won’t feel as if I wasted my money.” Jane stuffed the sock into the glove compartment, noting that it was already full of parking tickets.

Once they were on a deserted, winding road, Jane settled back into her seat. She’d been dreading the whole awkward weekend, and especially had been dreading this kind of excursion, when she and Caroline would be together alone. But so far, it all had been strangely pleasant, as if she and Thomas and Dale and Caroline were just old although not especially close friends; as if this ill-advised weekend would end up neutering her flirtation with Dale. Thomas had been wise to insist they come. Even Gerald seemed to be enjoying himself. “Thanks for inviting us up here,” Jane said. “I had some doubts when you first asked us, but I’m glad we came.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you,” Caroline said. “I’m surprised you didn’t hang up on me that day I called you. Frantic.”

“Let’s not talk about it,” Jane said. “It seems like a very long time ago.”

“It wasn’t that long ago, Jane. Whatever it was you said to him seems to have helped.”

This caught her interest, like something speeding past in her peripheral vision. She knew she ought to ignore it, but she couldn’t help spinning back for a double take. “Oh?”