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to the sheriff? To her mom? She didn’t want to have to start worrying about her mother again.
    She was glad Rich was in their life. He was almost as good as a dad. Maybe he would be her dad one day. She wondered if he and her mom were ever going to get married. They had been going out forever. She was already too old to be a flower girl. Maybe her mom would let her be a maid of honor. That would be totally cool.
    Her eyes were closing. She could hear her mother’s footsteps coming up the stairs, but her eyelids were too heavy to lift up again. Her breathing had gone into the deep zone, slow and even. Her mother patted the sheets and then leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.
    Meg floated away on top of smooth white water.
     
    Claire looked up from the book she was reading, a new Irish novel called My Dream of You— very romantic and with a heroine who was turning fifty. How refreshing to read about an older woman who was still sexual. She thought she had heard something outside the window, but when she checked, she didn’t see anything.
    When she had talked to Rich earlier, he hadn’t been sure when he would come over. He was playing poker with the guys, but they didn’t usually go too late. These were older guys who had responsibilities in the morning. She thought of getting undressed and climbing into the bed to wait for him, but it was so pleasant out on the front porch. She had all the windows open and the night air flowed in the house, humid and soft. All the sounds of summer surrounded her.
    Claire was a little worried about her relationship with Rich. She had been getting the feeling that he wanted to change it. She suspected that he was going to want to get more serious, and she wanted to head him off.
    Suddenly the headlights of his truck bounced down the driveway. Earlier than she expected. How nice. She heard the engine being turned off. She set her book down.
    As she stepped outside to greet Rich, the gentleness of the air hit her. Balmy nights were rare enough in Wisconsin that she felt like staying up and enjoying it. She walked up to the truck.
    Rich opened the door and swung down. “Hey, good-looking,” he said.
    “You sound lucky. You bring me any money?”
    “You bet. I’m the big winner.”
    “How much?”
    “Twenty-four dollars.”
    She stepped in closer and they kissed. She could tell from his kiss that he was feeling good about himself.
    They broke apart for a moment and looked up at the sky together. Other than the porch light, it was dark outside. The moon wasn’t out and the sky was sprayed with the Milky Way, but it gave off little light. She put an arm around his neck and pulled his face to hers again. They kissed a longer kiss—deep and thrilling.
    She could feel that he wanted her. The way he was pressed up against her left little to the imagination. He started to lead her toward the house.
    “Let’s stay outside,” she whispered in his ear.
    He pulled back enough so he could see her face. “Really? Outside?”
    She could feel his resistance. Rich liked everything in its place, and she knew he thought the place for lovemaking was in the privacy of one of their bedrooms. Usually she agreed with that. But not tonight. She felt as if the idea had been under her thoughts all night long, that the warm summer air had been seducing her—and now lucky Rich had walked right into it. “We could do it behind the roses.”
    He looked around, checking to see if anyone was walking down the road. There were no lights on in the closest neighbor’s house. The town was quiet and dark.
    “No one will see us. Everyone’s sleeping,” she reassured him. “Besides, it’s not against the law.”
    “Indecent exposure?”
    “We’ll be hidden.”
    “Let me get a blanket out of the truck.”
    She patted his butt as he turned back to the truck. “You must have been a good Boy Scout. Always prepared.”
    She watched as he grabbed the blanket from the backseat. He turned and wrapped an arm