Marino wanted to talk. He did not want to be with the guys or alone. He wanted to be with me, but he would never admit that. In all the years I had known him, his feelings for me were a confession he could not make, no matter how obvious they might be.

"I can't compete with a poker game," I said to him as I fastened my shoulder harness, "but I was going to make lasagne tonight. And it doesn't look like Lucy's going to get in. So if-"

"It don't look like driving back after midnight would be a smart thing," he cut me off as snow swirled across the tarmac in small white storms.

"I've got a guest room," I went on.

He looked at his watch, and decided it was a good time to smoke.

"In fact, driving back now isn't even a good idea," I stated. "And it looks like we need to talk."

"Yeah, well, you're probably right," he said.

What neither of us counted on as he slowly followed me to Sandbridge was that when we arrived, smoke would be drifting up from the chimney. Lucy's vintage green Suburban was parked in the drive and blanketed with snow, so I knew she had been here for a while.

"I don't understand," I said to Marino as we slammed car doors shut. "I called three times."

"Maybe I'd better leave." He stood by his Ford, not sure what to do.

"That's ridiculous. Come on. We'll figure out something. There is a couch. Besides, Lucy will be thrilled to see you.

"You got your diving shit?" he said.

"In the trunk."

We got it out together and carried it up to Dr. Mant's house, which looked even smaller and more forlorn in the weather. At the back was a screened-in porch, and we went in that way and deposited my gear on the wooden floor.

Lucy opened the door leading into the kitchen, and we were enveloped by the aroma of tomatoes and garlic. She looked baffled as she stared at Marino and the dive equipment.