“Alex, would you mind something other than just sitting around and eating? Maybe a drive? I’ve been so cooped up. Driving helps me unwind.”

“Me, too.” How many hundreds of miles, since Robin had left, had I put on the Seville? “We could take a spin up the coast to Malibu.”

My favorite drive. All those night cruises along the Pacific with Robin-shut up.

“Perfect,” she said. “If we get hungry, there are plenty of places to stop. See you at seven.”

“Want me to meet you somewhere?”

“No, pick me up at my house.”

I got there at 7:02. Before I reached the door, she opened it, stepped out onto the front path, and met me halfway, setting off the motion-sensing light. She had on a sleeveless, black cotton dress, no stockings, low-heeled black sandals. No diamonds, just a thin, gold choker that accentuated the length and whiteness of her neck. Her hair was clipped back in a ponytail. It made her look younger, tentative.

“I need to explain about last night,” she said, talking fast, sounding breathless. “The truth is, the early patient was scheduled at nine-thirty. I had plenty of time, didn’t need to kibosh everything. I was- let’s call a spade a spade: I was nervous. Being with you made me very, very nervous, Alex.”

“I-”

“It wasn’t you.” Her shoulders rose and fell. Her laugh was quick, just short of brittle, as she took my arm and ushered me into her house. Standing with her back to the door, she said, “If my patients could see me now. I’m a big-deal expert at helping others make transitions, but I am having the hardest time.”

She shook her head. “Transitions. Now I’m being presumptuous-”

“Hey,” I said. “The first time we went out I changed shirts three times.”

She stared up at me. I touched her chin and raised it. She removed my hand.

“Saying the right thing,” she said. “With people like us, you never know if it’s the training.”

“Occupational hazard,” I said.