Daniel said, “She’s really more of a homebody. Likes to keep to herself. Doesn’t mean any offense by it. Just the way she is, the way she’s been for some time now. And she moves even slower than me some days and doesn’t like to cross the road. So, what brings you here? You moving in?” He chuckled to himself. “Dumb question.”

Annie explained it was probably only for the summer. “It’s been . . . kind of a stressful year and I wanted a break from the city for Charlie and myself. We live in Lower Manhattan. The West Village, if you know it.”

“Can’t say that I do. Never been to the Big Apple.”

It always amazed Annie that there were people who had never been to New York City, but then, wasn’t that just what a self-absorbed New Yorker would think?

“So,” Daniel said cautiously, “it’s just you and your boy.”

“My husband passed,” she said.

His face fell in genuine sympathy. He had his own beer open and took a drink, wiped this mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s a shame. I’m so sorry. So, recently, then.”

“Yes.”

“He’d been sick?”

Annie slowly shook her head. “No,” she said simply.

They were both quiet for a moment. Finally, Daniel asked, “What sort of work did he do?”

“He was an animator. You know, like cartoons.” She guessed what he was thinking. Her husband was the provider. He wasn’t going to ask what she did, because she was a woman and was content to run a household. She thought about telling him what she did, then decided she didn’t need to make a point with this man. He seemed nice enough.

“Cartoons?” he said, and nodded. His expression grew wistful. “Our grandson loves cartoons.” Daniel had another pull on his beer. “Although we don’t see him too much. And he’s in his teens now, anyway.” There was a sadness in his eyes.

“So you obviously have grown children.”

“Two. Son and a daughter. Son lives in Milwaukee. Him and his wife don’t have kids. Daughter’s in New Haven, mostly raising her boy alone. She got divorced a while back and her husband’s not on the scene much.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Oh well, what can you do? You bring them into the world, you raise them, then send them off on their own. Just wish they visited more. Offered to look after Thatcher—that’s our grandson—a few times over the years so his mother could get away, but she’s not been inclined to take us up on it.”

So there was something going on there, Annie felt, but she didn’t guess what, and wasn’t sure she even wanted to know.

Another few seconds of silence. Finally, Daniel said, “You might have noticed I didn’t really want to step inside.”

She had, but didn’t say anything.