Jane watched him carefully, taking in his body as he languidly set down the hairbrush and straightened out the bureau scarf. She’d never completely trusted Dale, not for one minute of their marriage, and she didn’t trust him now. She felt cornered in the chaise longue, but she didn’t know where she’d stand or what she’d do with her hands if she got up.

“You didn’t tell me Gerald was in therapy,” Dale said.

“No,” she said, thrown off guard, “I didn’t. Who did?”

“I asked him about his gymnastics classes and he told me they were really therapy sessions.”

She should have made it clearer to Gerald that Dr. Rose Garitty was a gymnastics instructor to everyone, not just Sarah, but she hadn’t wanted to make him think there was anything wrong with going to therapy. She’d have to figure out a new way to frame it.

“He’s okay, isn’t he?”

“Of course he’s okay. He’s just a little . . .” She waved her hand at the subject, hoping to get rid of it.

“He’s just a little boy,” Dale said. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his shorts, gave them a tug so they rode up his thighs. “What is it you wanted to talk about?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Watching him walk toward her, she felt her whole body stiffen. She’d never had a panic attack, but maybe this was how they started. She gripped Helen’s fur more tightly, but the dog flopped over on her side, sighed and went deeper into sleep, no help at all. Dale sat down on the end of the chaise, an inquisitive, mocking expression around his lips. She pulled her feet in close to her butt so her knees were up under her chin and some of the manuscript slid off her lap and onto the floor. Dale looked at the fallen pages with his head tilted, but Jane said nothing. Her whole body was trembling now. She wrapped her arms around her shins and squeezed so he wouldn’t notice. She could smell his body, warm and oily, like a toasted pecan.

“Hmmm?” he said. “What did you want to talk about?” He put his hand on her ankle and massaged up and down with his thumb.

“Don’t do that,” she said. Her voice was so hoarse and thick with desire, even she recognized it for what it was.

“Don’t do what?” he asked and slid his hand up to her knee and then down the back of her thigh.

“Caroline is right below us.”

“Yes, I know. And Thomas and Gerald are out on the lawn. And we can see all of them from this window and if they were to look up they’d see sunlight reflecting off glass.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”