And knowing that Daniel wasn’t sulking in a corner made me feel better, too.

I looked into Nathan’s closet. Maybe this weekend, I’d start cleaning things out. Before I could turn maudlin, I shut the door and lay down on the bed and surprised myself by falling asleep.

* * *

A few hours later, Ainsley and I walked into the Center. Greta came over, hugged me, shook hands with Ainsley, who was unabashedly looking for teardrop ex-cons, then led us through the crowd to the photography exhibit.

Pierre was there. “Ah, Kate, my love, my love! So good to see you! This one is mine, just sayin’. In case you like it best.”

“Pierre, shoo,” Greta said with a laugh.

“I would’ve guessed this was yours, though,” I added. It was a picture of a naked woman.

“Ten bucks if you pick it as the winner,” he said, then melted back into the crowd.

“So just mark down your top three,” Greta said, “and we’ll announce it, and then the auction will start, okay? I better go press some flesh. Take your time. Just not too much time.” She flashed a smile and went back to schmoozing.

Ainsley and I walked slowly down the line, and I told her what I was looking for. There were the usual marks of the amateur—poor composition, negative space used the wrong way, not enough color saturation, bad lighting.

But what I loved was the subject material. All of the fifteen or so pictures were taken outside, even Pierre’s naked woman. All of them showed heart, whether it was the picture of the homeless man and his dog, or the little kid drinking from a water fountain. These men had suffered while in prison, as many of them richly deserved. Hopefully, they’d learned some things, too. The value of freedom, the beauty of an ordinary day.

“This is the winner,” I told Ainsley, stopping at the second-to-last photo. It was of a little girl with big brown eyes, laughing as a pigeon fluttered up toward her. “See how much life and movement there is? The bird’s wings, the girl’s braids flying up, her hands, the way he caught her in midjump.”

“It makes me happy to look at it,” Ainsley said.

“Exactly. A lot of emotion here.”

“You’re so cool, Kate. You should start teaching here again.”

“I think I will,” I said. Even if it was a bit of a haul, it was worth it. I marked down my choices for first, second and third (Pierre’s) and sealed the envelope.

“Making a celebrity appearance?” came a voice. Paige.

“Hello,” I said. As always, she looked fantastic.

She scrunched up her face in an approximation of a smile. “So nice of you to grace us with your presence.”

“You’re welcome. You remember my sister, of course.”

Paige didn’t spare her a glance. “I met someone,” she said. “It’s pretty serious. I’d love for you to meet him.”

No How have you been, no I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch. I glanced at my sister, who just rolled her eyes. “Yeah...no. We’re not friends anymore, Paige.”

She exhaled in disbelief. “Why? Because I’m finally happy? You only liked me when I was a loser?”

“What about when I was happy?” I asked. “I seem to remember you telling me to fuck off when I got engaged. I seem to remember that you didn’t email or call me even once after my husband died. Now I’m supposed to throw confetti because you finally found someone to put up with you? No, thanks.”

Her mouth hung open.

“Hear, hear,” said my sister. “For the record, I always thought you were a bitch, too.”

She whirled and stomped off, and I had to admit, it felt pretty great. Ainsley and I grinned at each other for a second.

Then Daniel was there. “Hey, gorgeous,” he said, hugging me. He smelled very clean, very Ivory soapish. “Hi, Ainsley,” he added, letting me go to kiss her cheek. He looked back at me. “Did you finally tell her off?” he asked, nodding in the direction Paige had gone.

“I did,” I said. “And it felt great.”

“I love her shoes,” Ainsley said. “I hate her, but those are some killer shoes. I bet you two have some talking to do, so I’ll just slip discreetly away,” Ainsley murmured.

“No, no, that’s not necessary,” I said. “How are you, Daniel? How’s the family?”

“They’re good,” he said. “Want to see pictures?” He pulled out his phone and started sliding his finger across the screen. “Here’s Lizzie. You know she booked a runway show? My mom is freaking out, but the money, holy shit. College is not going to be a problem, let’s put it that way.” He slid to the next one. “And here’s the baby, Maisy. She smiled the other day. Cutest thing in the world. Here’s the demon child. She’s my favorite, of course.” He looked up from the phone and grinned.

We were normal again. The knowledge made my chest loosen with relief.

“Hey, come on down the hall and see the porch swing,” he said. “You, too, Ains. It’s really nice. The students have been helping. It’s sort of a class project. We still have to put on some more varnish, but it’ll be ready. When’s the party again?”

“Two weeks from tonight,” I said.

We left the gym and went down the hall to the wood shop. Ainsley pressed a glass of wine into my hand. “Thanks,” I said, taking a sip.

Oh, God, it was horribly off. I forced myself to swallow it. “There’s something wrong with this,” I said. “Don’t drink it.”

“There is?” she asked. She took my glass and sniffed. Frowned at me and took a sip. “Seems fine to me.”

“It’s really bad.”

“It’s not Chateau Lafite, but it’s not horrible,” she said.

Daniel took a sip, too. “No, it’s fine.” They looked at me, puzzled. “Anyway, here we go, ladies. After you.”

He opened the door of the shop, and the sharp smell of polyurethane hit me hard. There was the swing, dangling from two chains. It was made of narrow strips of a honey-colored wood and curved beautifully, the shape modern but classic.

Nathan would have approved.

“Go ahead, sit on it, girls,” he said. Ainsley and I scootched up, and it glided gently, back and forth, back and forth.

Then I bolted. Ran to the sink in the corner and puked. God! What the heck? I retched again, my whole body convulsing.

“Kate, are you okay?” Ainsley asked, handing me some paper towels. Daniel stood there, too, rubbing my back.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I hardly ever throw up.” I rinsed my mouth, my stomach still quivering, and took the paper towels.

Straightened up.

Ainsley was looking at me with her mouth half-open.

The fatigue. The sleepiness. The bloodhound sense of smell.

And now puking.

“Oh. Oh, no. Nope,” I stammered. “No. It’s not... Nope.”

Daniel covered his mouth with a big hand.

“No,” I whispered.

“Oops,” Daniel said.

“No!” I barked. “No, it’s...it’s—I can’t... Oh, God.”

“Okay, okay,” Ainsley said, holding out her hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Let’s get out of here. Daniel, do you live nearby?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Oh, shit. Holy crap. My God. But we used... Oh, God.”