She’d had a hope that the new neighbor, Suzanne, would start coming by with her little boy for playdates, but Suzanne had practically had an allergic reaction when she came over last Tuesday. She’d gasped—actually gasped—when she saw their television, and Kaye could tell it wasn’t in awe, the way Grant had when she gave him a tour. He’d said “Wow” about a hundred times, and “You gotta be kidding me!” He counted the bathrooms out loud and they had to go around the house a second time for confirmation: yep, there were six of them. He seemed super nice, but Suzanne was a little stuck up, frankly.

“How many video-game systems does Jakey have?” she’d said, eyeing the game cabinet with something like fear.

“Oh, you know boys!” Kaye had said. Who knew how many systems he had? Did people count things like that? Suzanne left after a scant half hour, never having touched the fudge or the coffee Kaye had put out.

Maybe Kaye had laughed too much. Or chattered more than her fair share. She couldn’t help that she was a happy person. She’d always been a happy person, cheering up friends, cheering up her father, keeping busy, busy, busy. She and her girlfriends had practically run Lindy’s old school, organizing talent night, the spring fair, field day—you name it. Up here, the women did things differently. Multicultural night at Willard Park Elementary? How were you supposed to contribute when you didn’t have a culture? “Do you think I’m not serious enough for her?” she’d asked Nick, who’d said, “Let it go, babe,” as if Suzanne were a fish too small to keep.

With no kids or husband to see to, no housekeeper to chat with—she and Carmen always ate lunch together, which was sort of like having a paid friend—no piles to clear or online shopping to do, Kaye was free for the moment. Free to indulge in the pastime she’d meant to keep as just that—a little something to do while the kids were occupied. Now that Jakey was in first grade she couldn’t keep him home from school just for company anymore. She’d just do it for an hour, to get it out of her system.

She wandered down the basement steps, slipping past the wine cellar, past the lounge and the gym to her room. It was her own room. She’d begged for it when Nick was allotting purposes for the rooms in the house.

“Promise never to go in,” she’d told him, her finger to her smiling lips, her eyelashes batting.

“Why would I?” he’d said.