“Early September, I think.”

I opened the door and let the cool air in.

“Good night.”

The door clicked shut behind me, and I stood on the porch with the bag in my hand while the porch light buzzed and went quiet.

The lake was a lie I had told badly.

I drove downtown instead, radio off, and parked in the ramp under the apartment building on Water Street.

Barbara was in the lobby with a paper bag of groceries and a ring of keys.