“I can predict right now that this will never come up with me. I will never call you in the middle of the afternoon, completely out of the blue . . .”

She could see the traffic ahead starting to move, a little break in the line of cars. “I’m more grateful than I can say. Please . . . if you could leave right this minute . . .”

3.

When she arrived at the school, Gerald was sitting on the steps leading to the street with his arms folded over his music books, and the corners of his mouth turned down. Daylight Saving Time had ended last weekend and it was nearly dark. The rooms of the school were lit in warm, golden light, and even through the closed windows of her car she could hear pianos and the rasp of cellos. Gerald was wearing a baggy, orange sweatshirt, not the blue jacket she’d described to the security guard. Why hadn’t she noticed it this morning? The whole afternoon might have gone differently if she’d given the guard the right description. Brian was pacing on the sidewalk, wrapped up in his dapper tweed sports coat and a long, dark scarf. She’d always thought there was something suspiciously vain about him, although she’d been too absorbed in their rivalry to pinpoint exactly what his vanity made her suspect. How had she missed what now struck her as so obvious it was almost embarrassing? It was a little before five, and now that she was here and Gerald was fine and within thirty minutes they’d be at home and Gerald would be standing at the kitchen counter cooking, the panic of the past hour dissolved. All things considered, she’d handled it rather well.

Gerald opened the door, tossed himself into the passenger seat and slipped on his seat belt, all without looking at her.

“Hi, honey,” she said, and gave him a kiss. She wasn’t going to make a big deal of this and alarm him retrospectively. “How did the lesson go?”

Silence, and then he said, “Have you been drinking?”

“Excuse me?”

“It smells like wine in here.”

Brian rapped lightly on her window, his fingers tightly encased in brown leather. He motioned for her to roll down her window. “Mission accomplished?” he asked.

She nodded toward Gerald and lowered her voice. “I don’t want to make a big production of this, but I hope you know how much I appreciate it.”

“As I was walking over here, I realized it’s the kind of thing you’d do for me. Not that I’d ask.”

The gloves were definitely a bit too much for this time of year. Thomas usually didn’t get around to wearing gloves until midwinter. She turned back to Gerald. “Did you thank your uncle for coming to meet you?”

Gerald said nothing.

“Gerald? I asked you a question: Did you thank your uncle Brian?”