“Trust me.”

“Hey, no offense intended, but I remember snaggled teeth, tangled hair, weak chins, and bodies shaped like sausages. What happened?”

“All it took was countless beauty products and seven thousand dollars in braces.”

“Not Dr. Staehlings, by any chance?”

“Dr. White,” he said.

“Well, they look fantastic,” I said. “They must be happy to have Camilla home.”

“Ha! They hate it. She’s all over them. No phone calls after six P.M. No boys coming to the house. Curfew’s at nine.”

“Doesn’t sound bad to me. So what’s your parental game plan?”

“I don’t need a game plan. I treat ’em like adults. All it takes is common sense. She doesn’t have a clue what they’re about.”

I checked my watch and made a face. “Wow. Eight forty-five. With a nine o’clock curfew, shouldn’t they be heading home?”

“This is my night out with them. She’s got Banner.”

I said, “Fun. Just like being divorced. Which of you pays child support?”

“Don’t make jokes.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be flippant,” I said. “So what happens now?”

“I expect we’ll work it out. Change is tough.” The glum expression was back after the few brief moments of animation.

“Jonah, how long has this been going on? Five years? Ten? As long as you buy into the program, why would anything change?”

“You’re missing the point. My parents were divorced. I wouldn’t wish that on any kid.”

I didn’t think I’d missed the point at all, but there was no arguing with the man. I glanced at the door just as Henry came in. “Henry’s here. I’ll catch you later. Good luck.”

“Good seeing you,” he said.

“You too.”

I eased out of the booth, relieved at the excuse. There’s nothing as aggravating as watching someone else make a hash of life. Jonah had all the cards and he refused to play the hand. What was Camilla’s hold on him? I hadn’t seen her for years, and then only at a distance. The woman had to be a bombshell. Why had he put up with her? He was good-hearted, handsome, steady, responsible, even-tempered. I’d dallied with the man myself on a couple of the occasions when Camilla had gone off to “find herself.” It hadn’t taken me long to figure out that Jonah was never going to set himself free. He knew better, but unhappiness was apparently preferable to taking risks.

I crossed to Henry’s table, taking my wineglass with me. “How was class?” I asked as I sat down.

He made a face; tongue out, eyes crossed. “I left early. It’s not that gray water’s boring, but the subject does have its limits. How are things with you?”

“Nothing much to report.”

“There’s your friend Ruthie.”

I followed his gaze and spotted Ruthie coming in the door. I waved and she wound her way among the empty tables. Ruthie was in her midsixties, tall and thin, with a lean face, a high forehead, and gray-brown hair she wore in a braid down her back. Her jeans, sweatshirt, and running shoes seemed incongruous on someone who seemed innately elegant.