Ezra visibly winces. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought the affair was common knowledge.” June gives a quick shake of her head. Ezra goes to say something, then stops, thinks about it, and says, “You never even suspected?”

She stares into her empty wineglass, pondering the question. “I guess now that I think about it, I’m not totally shocked.” She looks up at him with a tight smile on her face. “I actually feel a bit stupid that it never dawned on me.” She rolls her eyes at herself. “My mother said we couldn’t tell my father how often West was coming here to do work. She said it was because my father didn’t want to pay a lot of money. That she needed his help more than my father realized, which in itself should have set off alarm bells. I just never thought of them that way. Of my …” She trails off.

She gets up from the table, emptying what remains of the white wine into her glass, opening a whole new bottle and then bringing it back to the table with her. “Now, is this just rumor you’re going on, or did you actually witness something?”

“Both, I guess. There was one time that made me think there might be something going on.” He wipes the condensation off his wineglass, trying his hardest not to meet June’s eyes.

“What happened exactly?” she pushes.

“Are you sure you want to get into this now?”

“No,” June answers. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t tell me.”

Ezra looks like he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him, but he takes a deep breath and launches into the explanation June is demanding. “You know how your mother was up here on her own in the fall when you guys went back to school?”

June nods. “She always said she needed time and solitude to close the place up properly,” she explains.

“Well, one of those times I came out with my dad to cut the grass and put the dock furniture away,” Ezra continues. “My father hadn’t wanted to bring me, but my mother insisted. They actually got in a fight about it. Probably because she suspected what was going on and thought me being here would mean nothing happened,” he explains. “We got here, and my dad said he had to do some work inside and told me to cut the grass. When I was done, I came into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I was standing at the counter drinking it when they came down the stairs. They were both laughing, and—” He stops and studies June’s face.

“And what?” June asks impatiently.

“My dad was doing up his pants.”

“How old were you? And what did they say?” June asks, sounding almost frantic.