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Blake.”
    Livia gave the Escort a bit of gas as the engine turned over.
    She watched as Blake silently mouthed, my Blake.
    When she glanced in the rearview mirror, he was standing in the middle of the road. Her red taillights blazed over his skin. He looked like he was on fire.

3
    Serendipitous Rendezvous
    L IVIA’S F ATHER B EGAN H ER evening with the first of two conversations she didn’t feel like having. He spent an ungodly amount of time expressing his disdain for vibrating phones, specifically Livia’s, which had delayed their contact at the train station.
    Then Livia finally talked to Chris. She started by delivering a small white lie about a rundown battery to explain her latest refusal to answer her cell phone.
    “Hey, Livia. You had me scared shitless. I thought I was going to have to run all around Manhattan looking for you.”
    Chris’s concern seemed unusual. He hadn’t made any effort past his phone to sustain their relationship in weeks. She covered her lips with her hand and remembered Blake’s soft touch. Betrayal.
    Livia prided herself on loyalty, and her heart wasn’t feeling loyal to Chris.
    “My grandma had a mild stroke last night.” Chris’s voice cracked on the word “stroke.”
    Livia groaned internally. This was the one time Chris needed her in all the years they’d been dating?
    “Chris, I’m so sorry. I know how much you love her.”
    Everyone loved Chris’s Grandma. She insisted on being called Mrs. Grandma, even by people she’d just met.
    “What can I do to help?” Livia asked.
    Chris hemmed and hawed for a few minutes before he finally got around to his request. “Well, she comes home tomorrow night, and I’d really love for her to have a nice meal. My mom will be cleaning at Grandma’s, but her cooking isn’t exactly a special treat.”
    Livia agreed with Chris there. His mother implemented “The Magic Pot”—a plug-in electric fry pan—and an alarming selection of ingredients far too often for anyone else’s tastes. They decided to meet at Mrs. Grandma’s at six o’clock to make dinner. Then, as if the medical incident had burst the dam of his memories, Chris proceeded to regale Livia with all his favorite stories about his grandmother. It was kind of sweet at first, but then Livia realized the explanations were becoming more and more about him and less about Mrs. Grandma. Her eyes were heavy long before he decided it was time to stop talking.
    The moment Livia’s eyes opened the next morning, her brain said, So little train time , and she sprang into action. She’d wanted to arrive even earlier this morning to make up for the quick exit she’d have to make this evening, but after staying up late listening to Chris, she’d overslept.
    Livia had twenty minutes to wait for her train when she arrived at the station, but she still ran all the way to the platform. It was another cloudless day, so Blake was predictably in his self-imposed shadow cave.
    He was sitting this time and kept his head tilted down as he peered up at her. It looked just like an image from a fashion magazine. Blake was so handsome—Livia couldn’t believe the other women on the platform weren’t taking cell phone pictures of him.
    He’s still invisible.
    This time Livia had packed a small picnic blanket. She quickly spread it out and opened the cooler for Blake.
    “Good morning, Livia,” he said, looking at her oddly.
    “Sorry! Hi. Good morning, Blake.” She was so rushed she forgot the simple greeting.
    “You look tired. Did you sleep well?” Blake ignored his sandwich.
    “No, I didn’t. I was on the phone with Chris most of last night.” Livia was busy fixing Blake’s napkin, but when she glanced again at his face she saw such hurt there.
    “His grandma had a mild stroke. I won’t be able to stay long this evening. I’ve got to make her welcome-home-from-the-hospital dinner.” She motioned to his still-hot breakfast.
    “Livia, you’re too kind. I’ll take this