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on?”
    The warmth and sincerity in her voice made James feel ashamed of his churlishness. He rubbed at the spots on his hand with a napkin and then took her hand in his own and squeezed it. “Yes, we can move on. That’s what this dinner was supposed to be about. Thanks for reminding me of that.”
    “That’s settled, then!” Murphy pushed her plate away with her free hand, her eyes twinkling with delight. “Oh, I wish we could do something fun together this weekend, but I’ve got to go to the historical society’s benefit dinner on Friday and the cat show on Saturday. Feel like hanging out with me at either one of those fun-filled events?”
    James shook his head. “I’m giving the twins a day off Friday so I can spy on the high school kids, and on Saturday, I promised to drive Pop to New Market so he can watch one of Milla’s cooking classes. He wants to do a painting of the students making pastry dough, so he’d like to covertly study them while they work.” James slurped the remains of his painfully sweet tea. “This is a big step for him—visiting Milla instead of her coming to our place.”
    Draining her unsweetened tea, Murphy sat back in her chair. “What a cute couple. Do you think they’ll get married?”
    Having wondered the same thing recently, James nodded. “I think they will. It’s the way folks their age do things. They date for a bit and then they get married. They don’t really dither around.”
    “That’s the way things are supposed to go for couples of all ages,” Murphy grumbled.
    James sensed that they were entering a risky conversation topic, so he steered the discussion back to his father and Milla. “If they decide to wed, I’ll be really happy for them both. They’re both widowers and they seem really comfortable with one another.”
    Murphy stood and tossed a wad of soiled napkins on the vinyl tablecloth. James sensed that the subject of marriage had soured Murphy’s mood, but he didn’t feel inclined to find out why. Glancing at Blue, who had a trickle of drool running out the side of his mouth, Murphy shook her head. “You might be happy for them,” she said, “but it’d be a big change for you.”
    “Why?” James said, holding open the door for Murphy.
    Looking at him as though he were a complete simpleton, Murphy blurted, “Because you’d finally have to move out of your boyhood room!”

    On Friday, temperatures soared into the nineties and the humidity pressed down on the Shenandoah Valley like a heavy hand. The library overflowed with patrons all day, but especially during the hours of eleven and two, when the temperature peaked and the sun threatened to scorch the hair right off of people’s scalps.
    James was aware that almost half of the patrons reading in upholstered chairs or waiting for an opportunity to use one of the computers for the forty-five minute maximum were at the library because it was air-conditioned. The elderly were especially susceptible to the hot weather and had arrived at the library in droves, blatantly disregarding the No Food or Drink sign posted on the front door. Bearing thermoses of sun tea or homemade lemonade and plastic baggies of sandwiches, potato chips, and cookies, they gathered in groups at the wooden tables and played bridge or chatted over stories in the newspaper.
    James didn’t have the heart to remonstrate them, even when they scattered crumbs on the carpet or raised their voices above the expected whisper. Besides, all of the older patrons adored the Fitzgerald twins and plied them with baked goods and hard candies until the boys swore that they had more adoptive grandparents than they could keep track of. And even though the twins devoured every morsel of food that crossed their paths, they remained as thin and lanky as ever. In their absence that Friday, James found himself laden with fresh oatmeal cookies, cranberry scones, and cheese biscuits.
    “Well, I am going to be here until nine,” he said, happily