“I don’t know what had been going on, but whatever it was, I think it’s over. I know I asked you to tell me everything, and yet, for some reason, I don’t want to know anything.” She gripped the wheel with both hands and shrugged. “I’m just grateful to you, that’s all.”

Jane looked out the window beside her. They were passing by a sunburnt open field with a weathered white farmhouse off in the distance. There were children playing under an old maple tree that looked half dead, and she could smell cows; shit, in other words. She didn’t like the country and never had. She often felt frightened when she was surrounded by trees and undeveloped land, and the inky dark and thick silence of the nights unsettled her. Undoubtedly, it had something to do with being uncomfortable with herself, but then again, what didn’t? And yet, there were benefits to living among animals, close to insects and the soil; at the moment, she felt peaceful in the warm car, breathing in manure and dust and secondhand smoke from Caroline’s cigarettes. Maybe she really had done Caroline a good turn after all. Maybe it didn’t matter that she and Dale had passed a few flirty moments as long as he was more responsive to his wife. She’d talk to Dale this afternoon and clear it all up. “Speaking of gratitude,” Jane said, “thank you for being so kind to Gerald.”

“Gerald,” Caroline said, laughing out a lungful of smoke. “What a little charmer.”

Did she mean it? Of course she did. Caroline was fluent in four languages but didn’t know the meaning of the word irony. As for Gerald, he seemed to have fallen in love with her as soon as he laid eyes on her willowy blond loveliness. He followed her around like a smitten paramour. And Caroline was amused and smitten in turn. Would he like to go fishing, canoeing, learn to play tennis, go out sailing with her? No? Well, how about they go up to the attic together and go through her grandmother’s trunk? You never knew what fun old clothes you were going to find there.

“You find him charming?” Jane asked, realizing that she was pleading for a more detailed compliment, not caring how desperate she sounded.

“Oh yes,” she said, mildly enough to be believable. “I have a feeling he’s going to be a very talented designer or artist when he grows up. He has an eye for color and line.”