She hung up the phone and paced around the bedroom picking up socks and underwear and a stack of student papers Thomas had been reading before he went for his “jog.” She certainly didn’t welcome one more distraction or complication for this evening, especially if it involved a conversation with Caroline. Caroline was so proud of the mythic family estate in New Hampshire and tended to discuss it in ways that filled Jane with longing and melancholy. Jane had told Rosemary to arrive at 6:30 so they’d have a chance to talk, and if she was even remotely on time (unlikely) she’d be showing up soon.

She picked up a blouse she’d flung across the back of a chair and was about to hang it up when she remembered that this was what she’d been wearing the afternoon she and Dale had walked along the Esplanade with Helen and she’d let him wrap his arms around her and kiss her and press himself against her when the wind died and the sailboats went still. She put the blouse up to her nose and inhaled, but there was no trace of the spicy smell of Dale’s body, just a faint whiff of verbena from the French moisturizing lotion she’d bought a couple of weeks ago. She hung it in the closet and slammed the door shut with resolve. She wasn’t going to let herself travel down this road or slippery slope or whatever it was. The whole business of having these secret meetings with Dale had been a mistake. The only good thing to come out of them was the inspiration for the documentary series. In between discussing Caroline and his own plans for the tacky restaurant he’d invested in, Dale had listened to her refine her concept, although she had presented most of it as something she’d been planning for months. She’d close that deal, advancing her own career and proving to Dale she wasn’t as unmotivated as he assumed, and then leave him to settle his marriage in whatever way he chose.