I notice Grace has slipped out at some point during Jack’s narrative; odd, since usually neither one leaves the other during their side of the story, unless Bree requires some attention, but even then they come back quickly. Jack seems to read my thoughts. “Grace still has a hard time with it all.” He chews his lip for a second, staring out the window beyond me. “She doesn’t like to talk about Dianne. Not jealousy, I don’t think,” he adds quickly, as if wanting to defend Grace’s character. He shrugs. “The reality of it is still hard to bear.”

I nod. “Understandable, certainly.”

I watch him as he stares out the window behind me, his face blank. I sit silently, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t say anything until Grace reappears holding a tray of snacks that she sets on the coffee table between us. Jack watches her as she moves about the room, and I study them both for signs of strain or discomfort now that the root of so many of their problems had finally been broached, but Grace refills drinks, arranges food and plates, and then bends to kiss Jack gently on the cheek before taking her seat in the chair next to his. She seems fine, and I see a look of relief flicker across Jack’s face as she jumps back into the conversation.

GRACE

THERE’S NOTHING QUITE as daunting or exciting as an apartment full of cardboard boxes waiting to be emptied. The first step is always hooking up the stereo, since unpacking can’t be done without decent unpacking music. My preference has always been Aerosmith. After that, I usually employ the whatever-is-closest method: whatever box is at your feet is the one you empty next. It didn’t take long that early December morning before I was completely wrapped up in the job, singing along with Steven and the boys and dancing my way around the mess.

I unpacked for six solid hours, fueled only by adrenaline and the continental breakfast I’d had at the hotel, before realizing, one, I was starving, and two, I was in my own place in Cali-freaking-fornia! I forced the second thought out of my head long enough to order delivery and find my plates and silverware, but it came back as soon as the pizza guy was gone.