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mine?”
    “Yours was easy. Trust me.”
    Melody motioned toward Ben. “He’s grown since the last time I saw him.”
    “Almost an inch,” she said, thinking it was nice of Melody to notice. Ben had always been small for his age, the kid always positioned on the left side, front row, of the class picture, half a head shorter than the child seated next to him. Zach, Melody’s son, was just the opposite: right-hand side, in the back, always the tallest in class.
    “I heard a rumor that Ben isn’t playing soccer this fall,” Melody commented.
    “He wants to try something different.”
    “Like what?”
    “He wants to learn to play the violin. He’s going to take lessons with Mrs. Hastings.”
    “She’s still teaching? She must be at least ninety.”
    “But she’s got patience to teach a beginner. Or at least that’s what she told me. And Ben likes her a lot. That’s the main thing.”
    “Good for him,” Melody said. “I’ll bet he’ll be great at it. But Zach’s going to be bummed.”
    “They wouldn’t be on the same team. Zach is going to play for the select team, right?”
    “If he makes it.”
    “He will.”
    And he would. Zach was one of those naturally confident, competitive kids who matured early and ran rings around other, less talented players on the field. Like Ben. Even now, running around the yard with his Super Soaker, Ben couldn’t keep up with him. Though good-hearted and sweet, Ben wasn’t much of an athlete, a fact that endlessly infuriated her ex-husband. Last year, her ex had stood on the sidelines of soccer games with a scowl on his face, which was another reason Ben didn’t want to play.
    “Is David going to help coach again?”
    David was Melody’s husband and one of two pediatricians in town. “He hasn’t decided yet. Since Hoskins left, he’s been on call a lot more. He hates it, but what can he do? They’ve been trying to recruit another doctor, but it’s been hard. Not everyone wants to work in a small town, especially with the nearest hospital in Wilmington forty-five minutes away. Makes for much longer days. Half the time he doesn’t get home until almost eight. Sometimes it’s even later than that.”
    Beth heard the worry in Melody’s voice, and she figured her friend was thinking about the affair David had confessed to last winter. Beth knew enough not to comment on it. She’d decided when she’d first heard the whispers that they would talk about it only if Melody wanted to. And if not? That was fine, too. It was none of her business.
    “How about you, though? Have you been seeing anyone?”
    Beth grimaced. “No. Not since Adam.”
    “Whatever happened with that?”
    “I have no idea.”
    Melody shook her head. “I can’t say that I envy you. I never liked dating.”
    “Yeah, but at least you were good at it. I’m terrible.”
    “You’re exaggerating.”
    “I’m not. But it’s not that big of a deal. I’m not sure I even have the energy for it anymore. Wearing thongs, shaving my legs, flirting, pretending to get along with his friends. The whole thing seems like a lot of effort.”
    Melody wrinkled her nose. “You don’t shave your legs?”
    “Of course I shave my legs,” she said. Then, lowering her voice, “Most of the time, anyway.” She sat up straighter. “But you get the point. Dating is hard. Especially for someone my age.”
    “Oh, please. You’re not even thirty, and you’re a knockout.”
    Beth had heard that for as long as she could remember, and she wasn’t immune to the fact that men—even married men—often craned their necks when she walked past them. In her first three years teaching, she’d had only one parent-teacher conference with a father who came alone. In every other instance, it was the mother who attended the conference. She remembered wondering aloud about it to Nana a few years back, and Nana had said, “They don’t want you alone with the hubbies because you’re as pretty as a tickled