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Solomon comes to mind.
    â€œHe’s not used to country life.” Okay, that’s closer, but to what?
    â€œHe’ll go to the warehouse with me now and then, but we’ll have plenty of time for everything else.” He releases her hand but his eyes remain steady on her.
    â€œLet me think,” she says, but thinking is impossible. Bobby’s fingers are cuffing her wrist like she’s his prisoner. It’s clear what he wants. And yet . . .
    â€œMom? Listen. If I don’t like it I’ll come home. But Mom . . . listen? I’m going to love it. Sailing? Where can we go sailing here?”
    Her son’s excitement is infectious. She glances at Mark. He’s been reliable, consistent, even devoted, she’d say. He has a good effect on Bobby. On her, too. The last months have been positive for the three of them. Isn’t that enough to hold on to for seven weeks?
    â€¢ • •
    Bobby’s face is still glowing in her head when she arrives at the diner. He was so eager to get on the plane, his hug and kiss so quick. It was all she could do not to grab him before he disappeared past security.
    Dina is having an early lunch at the counter, as usual. “You let him take Bobby for the summer. A stranger? I don’t care if you slept with him. I don’t care how much they like each other.” Mila, who never keeps a thought to herself, promptly starts talking about those priests: You know, the kindest men on the planet. Who would have guessed! Her friends’ words fire her imagination. Rosalyn slips an arm around her. “Listen, trust yourself. You know the guy, don’t you?”
    â€œOf course,” she shoots back. “Mark isn’t a stranger. I know where he lives, where he was born, his upbringing, where he went to school, his past jobs, what he wants for this new business.”
    â€œSo?” Rosalyn says, “What more do you want? Unless . . . something in you isn’t sitting right.”
    â€œThat’s not the point. The man hasn’t passed the test of time,” Dina says.
    â€œIt’d be different if you went with him, but that’s expensive,” Mila offers.
    â€œHey,” Murray calls from the kitchen. “What is this?”
    â€¢ • •
    The lunchtime crowd is heavy, demanding. She won’t miss it when she starts her new hours. She moves fast from table to counter to kitchen, all the time listening for the ring of her cell phone in her pocket. He’s only been gone a few hours, but her nerves are shot and her friends’ warnings are corrosive. She tries to put their words aside, but it’s no use. She apologizes twice for giving the wrong check to a customer. She hurries the hours. Bobby will call as soon as they land. When the phone rings she runs out to the parking lot even though Murray is watching. Bobby’s voice sounds so near. He’s at the Denver airport; elated, he says they’re leaving early the next morning for a few days of camping. The two of them alone in the mountains. That spooks her too.
    â€¢ • •
    Two days later, she finds herself at the Port Authority bus terminal, ticket in hand, a small travel bag over her shoulder, her adrenaline pumping. Dina, Mila, and finally Rosalyn, too, agreed that she had to do this or never sleep again. She weaves her way past food kiosks, panhandlers, and vendors to the Cruiser Line gate. Murray’s displeasure follows her. She told him she’d only be gone several days; it was family business. “Who would you know west of Long Island?” Yeah, she said, that far.
    â€¢ • •
    The bus plows through the night. Occasional headlights streak the darkness. The wide aisle is now littered with paper bags, candy wrappers; an empty soda can rolls desolately past her feet. No one sits beside her and she’s grateful. A talker would have shattered whatever is holding her together.
    She keeps glancing at his