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the prospect of Alex staying in our house suddenly not as daunting as it had been before.
    “Anne,” Alex said after a pause, “you are a goddess among women.”
    “So I’m told.”
    “Seriously. Tell me what you want me to bring you from Europe.”
    The shift in conversation surprised me. “I don’t want anything!”
    “Chocolate? Sausage? Treacle? What? I might have a hard time smuggling heroin or pot or prostitutes from Amsterdam, though. You’d better keep it legal.”
    “Really, Alex, you don’t have to bring me anything.”
    “Of course I do. If you don’t tell me what you want, I’ll just ask Jamie.”
    “I’d say treacle,” I told him. “But I’m not sure what it is…does it come from a well?”
    He chuckled. “It’s molasses. It comes in a jar.”
    “Bring me that.”
    “Ah, a woman who likes to live on the wild side. No wonder Jamie married you.”
    “There’s more than one reason,” I said.
    I realized I’d been standing still, chatting, for several minutes. Alex had so engaged me I hadn’t felt the need to multitask. I looked again to the kitchen, but James had disappeared. I heard the mumble of television from the den.
    “I was sorry I couldn’t make the wedding. I heard it was a blast.”
    “Did you? From James?”
    A silly question. From who else would he have heard it? Except James had never mentioned he’d been in touch with Alex. James had spoken frequently about his best friend from junior high school, though on the subject of their falling-out he’d been rather more vague. He had other friends…but we were getting married, and I have a habit of trying to make things better. I’d been the one to add Alex’s name to the guest list, uncertain even if the address I found in James’s outdated address book was the right one. I figured whatever had happened between them might be repaired with a little outreach. When he’d sent regrets, I wasn’t surprised, but at least we’d made the attempt. Apparently it had worked better than I’d known.
    “Yeah.”
    “It was a very nice wedding,” I said. “It was too bad you couldn’t make it, but now you’ll get to come for a long visit, instead.”
    “He sent me pictures. You both look very happy.”
    “He sent you…pictures? Of our wedding?” I looked at the fireplace mantel, where a framed photo of us still rested even after six years. I always wondered how long it was acceptable to display wedding photos. I guessed at least until baby photos came along to replace them.
    “Yeah.”
    That surprised me, too. I’d sent photos to a few of my friends who hadn’t been able to attend, but…well, we were women. Chicks did stuff like that, giggled over pictures and sent chatty e-mails.
    “Well….” I trailed off, awkward. “When are you coming in?”
    “I have a few details to work out with the airline. I’ll let Jamie know.”
    “Sure. Do you want me to get him for you?”
    “I’ll e-mail him.”
    “Okay. I’ll tell him.”
    “Well, Anne, it’s almost two in the morning here. I’m going to go to bed. I’ll talk to you soon.”
    “Goodbye, Alex—” He’d already disconnected, leaving me to stare at the phone, a bit taken aback.
    There was nothing odd, not really, about his being in touch with James. Men’s friendships were different from women’s. My husband never told me about talking to Alex, but that didn’t mean he was keeping it a secret. It just meant he hadn’t thought enough of it to share. In fact, I should be happy they’d resolved their differences. It would be nice to meet James’s dear friend, Alex, the rascal. The ragged one who ran round and round the rugged rock. The one who promised me treats from Wonderland. The one who called my husband, Jamie, not James.
    The one James had only ever spoken of in past tense.

    Mary’s phone beeped for the fourth time in half an hour, but this time she only glanced at it before shoving it deep into her purse. “So how long is he staying?”
    “I