The book, Desmond noted, was closed flat with only a scrap of a New Yorker cover someone had been using as a bookmark between the pages. Assuming Desmond hadn’t dreamed the things up, that meant Russell had taken the glasses out and hidden them away somewhere. What else would you do with a smoking gun?

“How has her life changed?” he’d asked.

Russell put down the book he was reading, a volume of short novels by Thomas Mann. “Well, for one thing,” he said, “her latest crush is on an honest to God, unconflicted, uncloseted lesbian.”

“Ah. Progress.”

“Yes, it is.” He mulled this over for a moment and added, “Although it’s true this woman has been in a relationship with a very wealthy woman for the past fifteen years and they have two kids together and are partners in a small advertising agency . . .”

It usually turned out that the people who claim they’re looking to change their lives are really looking for a way to justify making the same mistakes over and over. No wonder these self-help books were so popular.

As he poked through the array of generally unused clothing, Desmond knew that if he found the glasses in the dresser drawers, then at least he’d know Russell had stashed them away. By the time he’d rummaged his way to the bottom of the bottom drawer, the bedroom floor was littered with underpants and jerseys and T-shirts, and he was sweating.

“Looking for something?”

Russell’s hair was wet from the shower, and there were traces of shaving cream around the edges of his silly muttonchops.

Their eyes met and it was apparent to Desmond they’d seen each other’s cards. Even so, he found himself saying, “I’m looking for a sock.”

“Top drawer. Same as always.”

“Right.”

He crammed the clothes back into the drawers. Russell stood at the closet door, naked, pondering which combination of clothes would displease his parents most. His back looked lean and muscular, a perfect combination of skin, bones, and sinew. What a great, gorgeous front the human body is, a splendid storehouse for secrets and deceptions.

He went to Russell, thinking he’d like to strangle him and found instead that he was running his hands down his back. “Better not,” Russell said. “We’ll be even later showing up at the restaurant than my parents and lose our edge.”

2.