“No, it’s not that, it’s...”

 “Shhh,” he said, putting a finger to her lips. “I’m with you. We don’t want to complicate our friendship.”

 “Right,” she said, because she was at a loss as to how to explain herself. If she’d ever wanted to be kissed, it was now. And if she ever wanted a certain person to kiss her, it was him. But it wasn’t friendship with him she feared complicating. It was hurting him just by being in his life. She couldn’t bear the thought of being Adam’s problem.

 That’s when he smiled, looked at his watch and said, “I’ve stayed way too late.”

 “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Not at all. I hope we’ll do this again very soon. Very soon.”

 “We will.”

 Then he was gone.

 * * *

 After having a conversation with Penny, Emma made some plans for her little bungalow. She was on a mission. She had very little time before starting her new job and she put it to good use. First of all, she bought a couple of cans of paint—a pale yellow, a pale blue and a nice supply of extra-light tan, a kind of heavy cream color. She wasn’t exactly overconfident but she did feel she could spend a little on renewing her digs since she was absolutely determined she’d be able to keep her job indefinitely. As long as she stayed out of Riley’s way.

 She painted her bathroom to match the towels she’d brought with her. One wall in her tiny living room became yellow and the alternating walls the tan so light it was off-white. She was all over the small towns in Sonoma County on Saturday, haunting the garage sales, and found colorful throw pillows, a decorative blanket to cover the sofa back, small wicker shelves she could stack her bathroom towels on, a beautiful basket she could fill with fruit or gourds for the small table, a couple of bronze picture frames and a framed print for the bedroom wall. It was a Matisse and the frame was excellent. She found wood trays she loved and could use to serve wine and cheese because now she knew she’d have guests sometimes. She also found some beautiful wineglasses and dessert plates she didn’t need but couldn’t resist. And a distressed white denim jacket called out to her. “I gained weight,” the lady who was selling it told her. “It’s hardly been worn.”

 “Well, you look amazing and I lucked into a great jacket,” Emma told her. So the woman threw in a navy blue scarf, a thin, soft knit that was almost pashmina quality.

 The weather was perfect for walking the old-fashioned, tree-lined neighborhoods. Children still played in the street around here; there were a lot of front porches on old brick two-stories and people were out raking leaves, watching kids, chatting over fences. It was sunny, low sixties, and grocers put their late fruits and vegetables outside in large racks. She couldn’t resist apples, zucchini, tomatoes, a couple of peppers, a fistful of green beans and a few onions. One of the things she had missed most in New York were the vegetable stands along the roads, owned and operated by the farmers who grew the stuff—it was as if you could taste the sunshine and hard work.

 When she went home, she was pleased to see her little bungalow already had a newer, more cheerful look, more like the old Emma. She went back to the hardware store. She painted her little table bright yellow, one of the chairs bright blue and one Irish green.

 It looked a bit like a summer house, she thought.

 She invited Lyle to an antipasto and wine dinner so she could show off her new-old house, including the framed picture of Emma, Lyle and Riley, cutting up at a pep rally in high school.

 “This is interesting,” he said, picking it up. “Does this bode well?”

 “I was saving this for our toast, but I can tell you now. Riley gave me a job in her company.”

 “Ah,” Lyle said. “So at least one of you is open to reconciliation.”

 “Oh, don’t get too excited. She was very cool, very professional and made it clear I wouldn’t be getting any special treatment. We’re not going to be friends. It’s a job, that’s all. But I’m very grateful. She’ll be paying me almost twice per hour what I’ve earned since I’ve been back. Plus benefits.”

 Thanksgiving, possibly the last holiday she’d have off for a long time, was such a pleasure, such a breath of fresh air after the holidays she’d had the past several years, she wished it would never end. She not only bought wine for the meal at Penny’s and had Lyle create a lovely centerpiece, she also spent the entire morning helping Penny clean the house, prepare the turkey and other food and appoint the table. It was so companionable, so stress-free.

 “I wish I’d had a daughter,” Penny said as they worked in the kitchen together.

 “Do you have any children?” Emma asked.

 “No,” she said. “Bruce and I had a happy marriage, but we weren’t blessed.”

 “When did he pass away?”

 “Oh, it’s been over twenty years now. It was awful hard at first, having no kids, you know...”

 “I’m so sorry, Penny,” she said. “You must miss him so much.”

 “Sometimes. But then I get ready for a celebration like this and I forget I was once married for thirty-five years and hardly did anything without him. We’re all widows, in a way...”

 “In a way?” Emma asked.

 “Well, Susan is divorced from her second husband, a long while ago, but her first is now dying, hanging on by a thread, the old bastard. She never did get really free of him. Dorothy is divorced and her ex-husband finally kicked. Ew, he was a son of a bitch. Marilyn lost her darling husband a few years ago. They hadn’t been married too long. Married late, had a good decade together. She’s pulled it together pretty well. Not a one of us ever got a daughter. The injustice...”