"Clearly, I'm not the best judge of these things," I said. "I thought my husband and I had it all."

Billy picked up his fork. "Maybe you did."

"I don't know. Looking back, he was kind of immature, and maybe a little bit too idealistic."

"Ha. I can remember saying I'd starve before I went into the family business. A few years later, spending my day with bikes was looking pretty good."

I swallowed a bite of perfectly cooked mustard-coated salmon. It felt good to have someone to talk to. I fished a slice of lemon out of my water with a spoon and squeezed it against the side of my gla.s.s. "I'm not sure what he's doing since he came back. It's a tough economy, so my guess is he grabbed the first job he found that would give him a steady paycheck. I think eventually most of us get to that point. If you ever told me I'd end up answering phone calls for a travel agency and teaching cooking cla.s.ses at a community center, I never would have believed you."

28.

BILLY HELD THE TRUCK DOOR OPEN FOR ME AND PUT HIS hand under my elbow. "Can you make it?" he asked.

I turned to face him and stepped up with the heel of my good foot to sit sideways on the edge of the long leather seat. I took a moment to bend and straighten my knee a few times. "It actually feels pretty good," I said.

"RICE right away usually does it," Billy said.

"Huh?" I said.

"Rest, ice, compression, and elevation."

"Wow," I said. "You really know your stuff."

He shrugged. "I've logged a lot of long, hard hours in the bike biz."

I opened my eyes wide. "Right," I said. "Late morning bike rides, leisurely lunches in courtyard cafes...Sounds like the life to me."

He grinned. "Especially if you factor out getting up at four-thirty so I could finish what I had to do first. But, yeah, it's a nice life, no question about that."

He looked at his watch, then held out his wrist to me. "How're you doing for time?"

"Fine," I said. "I'll beat the bus with minutes to spare." I put my hand on his forearm. "Thanks for the great lunch. And company."

We looked at each other. He leaned down to kiss me on the cheek.

I turned my head.

"s.h.i.t," I said when we finished kissing. I wasn't sure if I meant s.h.i.t that I couldn't keep kissing Billy all day or s.h.i.t that I could feel my life getting complicated.

"Don't blame me," he said. He traced one finger along my cheek, then reached down and lifted my legs into the truck. It was a chivalrous gesture somehow, maybe a suggestion of being carried over some distant threshold.

I hoped he was busy enough closing my door that he didn't hear me sigh.

Billy was quiet as we drove along the pretty, tree-lined streets. I was quiet, too, because I was concentrating on trying not to think. I mean, what was the point? What ever happened would happen, and in the meantime, the best thing to do was to stay in the moment. Or maybe to drift back just a little, to the moment before the moment, so I could relive that kiss. If only I could freeze time right there, knowing I could go back and push Play again whenever I was ready.

As we turned onto my street, I saw Seth's car in my driveway. My heart started beating like crazy. I was pretty sure I actually gulped.

My mind raced, trying to catch up with my heart. I wondered if I could get away with asking Billy to stop and drop me off right here. Maybe I could say I needed to walk off my lunch, or give my knee a post-RICE workout.

It was a really short street. "Um," I said.

Billy pulled into my driveway. Seth was leaning over my new railings. He looked up. He was holding a paintbrush and a can of paint.

Billy put the truck into park.

"Wow," I said. "What a coincidence. My ex-"

Billy opened the truck door.

"It's okay," I said quickly. "I can let myself out."

He pushed the door open and climbed out. Seth placed the brush in the paint can and put it down on the ground. He wiped his hands on his jeans. I closed my eyes.

When I opened them, Billy and Seth were shaking hands. Then they went in for a guy hug, still holding the handshake but coming together for a quick mutual pat on the back. The shake made sense, but the guy hug seemed awfully civilized, given the circ.u.mstances.

But wait.

What were the circ.u.mstances? For all Billy knew, Seth was just the painter. I mean, how many guys go right up and hug the painter?

There didn't seem to be a choice, so I opened my door and climbed out. My knee didn't really hurt anymore, but I had to fight the urge to limp anyway, like a wild animal who knows that if it acts injured, it might stand a better chance of surviving an attack.

Seth turned to me with a big smile on his face. Billy's face was a little bit harder to read.

"What a small world," Seth said.

"How small?" I said.

"You know that go-between I was telling you about?" Billy said.

I looked at Seth. I looked at Billy.

"No," I said.

"Yeah," Seth said. "Isn't it great? I've started consulting for a few companies, including one of the fair trade companies I dealt with from West Africa, but wow, the chance to go to j.a.pan again is pretty amazing. How do you two know each other anyway?"

It was immature. It was beneath me. I did it anyway.

"I hate you both," I said. And then I limped my way into the house.

HERE'S THE THING ABOUT LIFE: men have all the breaks. I spend the last seven years trying to be a good mom, and where does it get me? Home. Home while my ex-husband, who was probably technically not even an ex, and my possible boyfriend-to-be go away together. Home with my daughter, who even though I loved her more than life itself, would spend the whole time they were off gallivanting around j.a.pan wishing her father was here and I wasn't.

What gave Seth the right to waltz right in, spend a little time with Anastasia and me, then abandon us again to jet off to j.a.pan? It was an easy answer: he was a p.e.n.i.s-carrying member of the official worldwide male club, and the perks meant he got all the travel I longed for.

I tried to picture Seth and Billy spending, what, ten days together? Bonding while sharing stories about me over a few drinks. I shivered at the thought. After comparing notes, they'd turn into best friends, and here I'd sit, odd woman out.

I must have dozed off after I finished crying, because a knock on the door jolted me awake.

"Mom?" Anastasia's voice said from the other side of the door.

"Hi, honey," I said in a fake cheery voice.

"Dad wants to know if you want to come out and have some dinner."

"No thanks," I said, as if this were a perfectly ordinary situation. "I had a late lunch."

There was silence on the other side of the door.

"I'm just going to read for a while, honey, and give you some time to hang out with your dad, okay?"

The doork.n.o.b turned. I wiggled into a sitting position and fluffed up my hair fast. I hoped my eyes weren't so puffy they'd scare Anastasia.

She poked her head in and reached up to adjust her pink headband. "You don't have a book," she said. "Or a magazine."

"I was just trying to decide what to read. How was school?"

"Okay. Matthew gave Mitch.e.l.l a black eye so we only got a short recess."

"Men," I said.

Anastasia reached for her headband again. "What?"

"Nothing." I pulled a pillow out from behind me and hugged it. "Sorry I didn't meet your bus today, honey."

"That's okay. Dad was there." Anastasia started disappearing back into the hallway.

"What's for dinner?" I asked, just to keep her there a little longer.

Her head came back in and her hazel eyes met mine.

"Sushi. Dad's going to j.a.pan, so we're practicing. He's going to bring me video games and some j.a.panese T-shirts. And next time he says I can go with him."

I patted the bed beside me. "Sit for a minute."

"I can't," Anastasia said. "I have to go check on my new hamster."

"What?" I said, but my daughter was already gone.

I followed her out to the kitchen. My entire body was getting stiffer by the minute, but I was too furious to care.

Seth was rolling rice, shredded carrots, and cuc.u.mber slices into rectangles of seaweed at my kitchen counter. "Hey," he said, without quite looking up.

"You bought her a hamster without discussing it with me first?" I said.

"He's allowed to do that," Anastasia said.

Seth kept rolling.

"Her name is Cammy," Anastasia said. "I'll take care of her. You won't have to do anything."

"She wanted a cat," Seth finally said. "This was a compromise."

I willed my stiff knees to bend and aimed my sore b.u.t.t at one of the kitchen chairs. "Sit," I said once I'd landed.

They sat.

I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Okay, here's the thing. From now on, any decision that impacts all three of us is first discussed by the two grown-ups in the family."

I looked at Seth. "That would be us."

"But-" Anastasia said.

"Wait," I said. "Any decision-cell phones, hamsters, dates, nose rings, tattoos..."

"I can get a tattoo?" Anastasia asked. "When?"

Seth started to open his mouth, but I was faster. "And then, if and only if the grown-ups agree, you'll be brought into the negotiations." I crossed my arms over my chest. "Shall we give it a test run?"

Seth and Anastasia looked like two peas in a pod when they shrugged.

I looked at Seth. "Tattoo. How would you feel about our daughter getting a tattoo?"

"Not a chance in France," Seth said.

"I agree," I said. "End of discussion."

"That's not fair," Anastasia said.

"Life's not fair," I said. "Try us again in a couple of years."

I looked at Seth. "I'd like you to move in for about a week to stay with our daughter so I can go somewhere."

"Okay," Seth said.

I turned to Anastasia. "How would you feel about that?"

"Good," Anastasia said.

"Great," I said. I pushed myself back up to a standing position. "I'll get back to you both with some dates."

As soon as I hobbled back to my bedroom, I picked up my cell phone and called my boss, Joni. "It's Jill," I said. "I'm just wondering. Is it too late to get in on that Costa Rica surfing trip?"