We slid around each other in the kitchen, nobody saying much, until Sally asked me if I wanted to meet her and Evan for a late dinner downtown. I said thanks, but I thought I’d go over to see Norris after school, and we’d probably be eating out ourselves. I don’t think I was nasty about it, just casual.

Sally was casual, too. She said, “Maybe you ought to call him tomorrow. He just got in from Chicago last night, so he’s likely to be pretty beat today.” She and Norris don’t see each other much, but they talk on the phone a lot, partly because of me, partly because in the music world everybody knows everybody anyway, and everybody’s going to have to work with everybody sooner or later. They get along all right.

“I just have some stuff I want to ask him,” I said. “Like could I keep on going to the same school if I was living with him? Just stuff.” Okay, I was being deliberately nasty, I know, I can’t lie in my own book. And yes, I still do things like that, only not so much now, not since Tamsin. I honestly don’t think I do it so much anymore.

Sally turned and faced me. She drew in her breath to say something, and then she caught it and said something really else, you could tell. She said, “If you change your mind about dinner, we’ll be at the Cuban place on Houston, Casa Pepe. Probably around eight-thirty.”

“Well, we might float by,” I said. “You never know.” Sally just nodded, and reminded me to lock up, which she always did and I always did, and then she took off. I hung around as long as I could, hoping Mister Cat would show up before I had to catch the bus, but he didn’t. So I finally had to close the window, which I always hated, because then he’d have to be out all day. Mister Cat didn’t mind. Mister Cat’s too cool to mind.