She shrugged. “If you say so. That makes this… what… a semi-anniversary?”

“Yeah. I tried not to dwell on it, but the date got stuck in my mind and I felt we should commemorate it.”

“You’re a strange guy, Jeery.”

“Only figured that out now?”

“This isn’t a ploy to win your way back into my good books, is it?” she asked suspiciously.

“You mean get you drunk, harp on about the good old days and hope it leads to your place and a roll in the hay?” She nodded. “Absolutely.” I raised my glass of mineral water and clinked it against hers. “Drink up — a couple more of these and we’ll be flying.”

“To flying,” she smirked.

We lingered over dessert, reviewing the past six months. We’d been separated nearly two years by the time of the divorce, so it wasn’t as if we were raw from the rift. I’d straightened myself out and Ellen had forgiven me long before one of her colleagues drew the final legal line between us.

“Find a woman yet?” Ellen asked as the meal drew to a close.

“No one could replace you,” I said, giving her the doe-eyed treatment. She tossed her napkin at me.

“Seriously.”

I thought of Nic and smiled. “I’ve been getting some action. Nothing meaningful. You?”

She sighed. “The only men who chase me these days are married, middle-aged lawyers who think I’m easy because I’m a divorcée. It’s becoming a struggle just to get laid.”

The waiter brought the bill and I settled up, trying not to stare at the figure at the bottom. Ellen offered to go halves but I waved her money away. I hadn’t treated her much the last few years of our marriage. I owed her a meal or two.

“Where are you off to now?” she asked.

“Back to the apartment.”

“Ali still working downstairs?” I nodded. “Tell him I’ll be by one of these days for a bagel.” As newlyweds we’d lived in the apartment block that I’d returned to following the dissolution of our marriage. We’d shared some good times there, poor as we’d been.