“Yep. Just checking.” I take another drink. “How long will it take us to get back?”

“About forty-five minutes.”

“We should probably head out soon.”

“Okay,” he says.

We finish our drinks and I tell him I need to use the restroom. On the way into the gas station I drop our empty cans in the recycle bin near the door. When I come back out, Daniel is standing beside the bike with his helmet on. I walk toward him, taking my hair out of its high ponytail and gathering it into a knot down low. Daniel holds my helmet in his hands, but instead of handing it over he puts it on me, tucking my hair into it and reaching under my chin to buckle the strap.

“I can do that myself, you know.”

“I know,” he says, and then he slides down my visor until it clicks into place. Once we’re on the bike I put my hands on his waist and he starts the engine. He turns around and even though his voice is a bit muffled, I can understand him when he says, “Hold on tight.”

When the ride is over Daniel pulls into the driveway and parks the bike next to the garage. I climb off and remove my helmet. “What time is it?” he asks, flipping up his visor so I can hear him.

“Time for me to get going. I have to meet the bus in less than an hour, and I have a couple of errands to run on the way home.” It’s convenient having a cut-off time. It takes the decision out of my hands. I have no choice but to go.

He puts down the kickstand, climbs off the bike, and unbuckles his helmet, setting it on the ground next to mine. There’s an expression on his face I’ve never seen before, and I swear his eyes look different, like the pupils are darker than usual.

Daniel follows me to my car. Pausing with my hand on the door, I turn to say good-bye, leaning up against the car, never completely sure what to say. And never sure about what he’s thinking. “Thanks for the ride,” I say, smiling at him. “It was a great way to spend the day.”

He’s not smiling. He’s staring at me and it looks as if he’s studying my mouth, but then he looks away for a moment. He turns back to me and says, “Come again tomorrow?”

I’ve already come once this week, but I meet his gaze and say, “Yes.”

 • • •

Elisa and I take the kids to the park after school. The temperature may be atypical, but the leaves are changing right on schedule and their red and yellow colors blaze like fiery sunsets as we make our way through the tree-lined streets, trailing slightly behind the kids. Once we arrive we settle ourselves at a picnic table and watch them scatter, eager to hit the monkey bars and play on the swings.

“This weather is absolutely gorgeous,” I exclaim. We’ve surely surpassed the forecasted high of eighty, and I turn my face to the sun, closing my eyes and letting the rays warm my skin. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. Jordan rushes over and hands me her stuffed kitty. “Will you hold this for me, Mommy?”

I smile and cradle the kitty on my lap. “Of course.”

“How long can we stay at the park?” she asks. No matter how long we stay, Jordan always wants to stay longer. The park is her favorite place and she usually has to be coerced to leave. “We’ll stay until dinnertime, if you want.”

“And then we’ll go to McDonald’s?” she asks, smiling brightly as though this fantastic idea has just occurred to her even though it’s probably been percolating in the back of her mind since she got off the school bus.

“Sure,” I say. What the hell. It will make her and Josh’s day.

“Yay!” She scampers off, announcing the good news to her brother, joining him and Travis near the slide.

“You’re in a good mood,” Elisa says. She twists the cap off a bottle of water and takes a drink. “You’ve been smiling for the last half hour.”

I’m still feeling relaxed from the motorcycle ride with Daniel. “It’s been a good day,” I answer truthfully.

“It’s so great to see you like this,” Elisa continues. “I know it’s hard with Chris out of town all the time, but you seem so much happier. I knew things would get better.” She smiles brightly, satisfied that everything has worked out okay. Elisa’s eternal optimism is one of the things I love about her the most, but she’s way off in her assessment.

I take a deep breath and say, “I spent the day with Daniel Rush.”

Her forehead creases as she mentally filters through the names in her head and her eyes widen. “The ridiculously good-looking cop?” she asks.

“Yes. It wasn’t the first time, either.”

“Oh, Claire. Are you serious?” She looks so disappointed in me.

“It’s not what you think,” I say. “We’re just friends.”

Her relief upon hearing this clarification is evident in her expression. I can almost see the tension drain out of her when she realizes I’m not having an affair with Daniel. “Okay,” she says, nodding as if she’s analyzing the information. “How did this happen?”

I tell her about finishing the logo project and how Daniel kept in touch. I tell her about the flat tire and the phone calls and texts. “Didn’t Travis tell you he stopped by when the boys had their lemonade stand?”

“He just said he got stickers and tattoos when he was at your house. I assumed you gave them to him.”

“No, Daniel did.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Not long. Since mid-August.”

She’s silent, and I mistake it for disapproval. “I would never cheat on Chris,” I say, clutching Jordan’s kitty tighter and examining it so I have something to do with my hands and don’t have to look at her. “I still love him. I just don’t feel very connected to him right now.”

“I’ve known you for five years, Claire.” She turns to me and I finally meet her gaze. Her expression is a mixture of caring and understanding. “I know you know right from wrong. I also know that the last year has been hard on you and Chris. But he loves you, too. I truly believe that.”

“Sometimes I wonder,” I say. “I was thinking about it the other day, and worrying that maybe Chris and I got married too young, before we really knew each other well enough. This is the first real test of our marriage and we’re failing. What if our current problems have nothing to do with him being out of work? And now being gone all the time? Maybe he’s not in love with me anymore.” I rest my head in my hands, massaging my temples. If this is true, I’m not sure that there’s anything I can do to fix it. “But you and Skip got married young, younger than us even. And look at you. You’re so happy.”

Elisa snorts. “Let me tell you a story about me and Skip. Because things weren’t always so great between us.”

This admission surprises me, because I’ve never seen two people who are more in love. I forget sometimes that I didn’t know Elisa and Bridget and Julia until we became neighbors. We’re friends—genuine friends—but that’s due more to our physical location, our proximity to each other, than anything else. I know about their present, but I wasn’t there for their pasts. I turn toward Elisa, eager to hear what she has to say.

“I started dating Skip in college, you know that part already.”

“Yes.” Elisa was a sophomore at Baylor when she met Skip in a bar on an otherwise boring Thursday, on her way home from studying at the library with her sorority sisters.

“He was the quintessential big man on campus: handsome, personable, and a star quarterback who also made pretty good grades. Everyone expected big things from him and he delivered every time. I fell in love with him, and I fell hard. He did, too. But dating a football player, especially one as revered as Skip, didn’t come without challenges. Girls threw themselves at him constantly, and his ego was out of control. I was only twenty, and I had a jealous side that reared its ugly head frequently, especially if I’d had too much to drink.”

I have a hard time picturing Elisa—the epitome of Southern charm and grace—as a jealous, beer-swilling co-ed.