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offering comforting memories and the illusion that life was slow, without any purpose other than its own. There was a healing strength here that even Van couldn’t fully describe, and she kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.
    Van and Jean spent lovely, lazy time on Van’s front porch, listening to the Beach Boys and watching boats off in the distance ambling up and down the bay. They took turns bringing the booze or the iced tea (or both), depending on their mood that day. More importantly, neither ever failed to bring game or conversation. Just as they had predicted when they met, they became fast friends. It felt as if they had always been, and they could tell each other anything. Jean was a good listener, and even when she couldn’t give advice she made Van laugh about her troubles. Van was laughing for the first time in years. Jean was a newfound ray of sunshine.
    “I met the most interesting man on the boardwalk today.” Van tried not to look directly at Jean, because she knew that since the divorce Jean had pretty much sworn off anything that smacked of romance. The moment Van said it she regretted it.
    “What did he look like?”
    Van felt suddenly flustered. “I don’t know. Like a man … pants, a little stubble on the face, a callus or two …” She sank further down in her chair. “Jean, I should have known you’d be so superficial! I, uh, is that the best you can do?”
    Jean locked her in her gaze and sucked her upper lip in. “Not once in all the time I’ve known you have you discussed a man with me—any man. With the exception of Charlie, of course, and he doesn’t count. Men are not big on my list anymore, but there must have been something special about him for you to bring him up. Come on; come to Mama. How hot was he?”
    Van gave her the most condescending look that she could manage, and then proceeded to melt under Jean’s scorching gaze. “He was so hot, ” she wailed, hiding her red face in the crook of her arm.
    “I knew it, knew it. Bingo!” Jean crowed, and giggled like a schoolgirl. She tried to pull Van’s arm away from her face, all but tumbling them both onto the deck. Van had no hope of retreating from this physical assault, and she, too, began to giggle.
    “Spill, before I have to go check the boardwalk for him myself,” Jean demanded.
    “Okay, okay, let me catch my breath,” said Van. “It wasn’t so much that he was hot. Don’t get me wrong; he was good looking. But mostly, I was just so incredibly drawn to him. Can you believe it? I was actually flirting with him.”
    “Jeesh! You are a woman, remember, and a damn fine-looking one at that! Did he ask for your number? When are you going out? I want to know everything, starting with ‘Hello, beautiful.’”
    “Stop being a lunatic and slow down, Jean. He’s coming back into town later this week, and he said he’d give me a call. It’s nothing more exciting than that. Even then, I’ll believe it when it happens. Wait! He gave me …” Van pulled the pen he gave her out of her pocket. “… this . See, I didn’t make him up. He really does exist!”
    Jean took the pen and flipped it over to read the inscription. “Hector Young and Associates. We should look this up and see if he’s on the level.”
    Van burst out laughing. “What do you think he’s going to do: rob me of my virtue and steal my inheritance?”
    “Not while I’m here. He could be a serial killer, or something worse. Just leave it to Mama. I’ll look him up and get back to you. Nobody gets through Mama Jean.”
    “Jean, you’re letting your imagination run away with you. What could possibly be worse than a serial killer?”
    Jean reached out and grabbed her arm. “Seriously, Van, stop laughing at me. It’s been a while since you’ve been in the market. Don’t jump in too fast. Go slow and don’t overcommit. Think it through a little bit. If he seems too good to be true, he probably is. The devil’s in the details.”
    Van