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this morning. You said at breakfast that it was going to be a hot day, and I said, let’s get Ruth to look after the baby and you and I and Judith and Paul will go down to the beach . . . You couldn’t possibly have forgotten.”
    â€œNo.” He couldn’t possibly, but he had. He re­membered Elaine mentioning Ruth, but after that his mind had wandered because the name Ruth had reminded him of the name Ruby.
    Elaine was watching him, not reproachfully as she had at first, but with careful intensity like a cat about to pounce.
    â€œI hate to mention this, Gordon, but everyone has noticed how absent-minded you’ve become lately.”
    â€œI’ve been working pretty hard.”
    â€œHard work or not, you still have ears. You heard me talking about going to the beach this afternoon.”
    â€œYes, I suppose I did.”
    â€œBut you didn’t care.”
    He put his hand in his pocket. The dentures felt cold and smooth to the touch, not like real teeth, which were warm and often a little rough. The owner of the dentures needed them by tomorrow morning. Elaine needed to go to the beach. It was up to Gordon to decide whose need was the more urgent.
    He said, “I didn’t really promise that I’d have the afternoon free, Elaine.”
    â€œYou implied a promise.”
    â€œI’d like to go to the beach as much as you, perhaps more.”
    â€œI’m not concerned with myself. It’s the children. You know how much they enjoy the water.”
    â€œI know how much they don’t.”
    â€œI beg your pardon?”
    â€œNothing.”
    He was sorry he’d spoken, even though it was the truth.Like Elaine, both of the children were afraid of the water, and yet the beach seemed to hold an intense fascination for all three of them. Elaine would sit staring uneasily at the waves and wonder aloud about the tides and complain about the sand fleas. Paul would wander off by himself to pick up a group of strangers who would be very amused at first by his antics, then bored by his demands for at­tention, and finally exhausted and unkind. Judith, the seven-year-old, had a subtler approach to self-satisfaction. She would dig vast holes in the sand, large as graves, some of them, and here she would sit and eat her way through the contents of the picnic basket. A day at the beach, which always seemed so much fun for other families, was often a nightmare for the Fosters. Neither Gordon nor Elaine knew why this was so, but in self-defense each blamed the other.
    â€œI don’t care about myself,” Elaine said. “I’m used to disappointments, all kinds, all sizes.”
    â€œI guess you are.”
    â€œIt’s the children I’m thinking of . . . Other families go places together, even the Harrisons, and he’s a real doctor. I saw them at the horse show, the night you worked late.”
    Gordon rubbed his eyes, knowing what was coming, yet feeling utterly powerless to stop it.
    â€œYou work late so often recently.”
    â€œI have to.”
    â€œIf your practice is really that good, perhaps it’s time to hire an assistant.”
    â€œI couldn’t make ends meet if I did.”
    â€œThey’re not meeting too well right now.”
    â€œWell, I’m doing my best.”
    â€œYes. Yes, I really believe you are, Gordon.”
    She sounded so sincere and kindly that he turned to look at her in surprise. She was a tall woman, nearly as tall as he. Her self-assured manner, her air of owning the world, had been one of the first things about her that he had noticed and admired. As the years passed Gordon had come to realize that it was not an air or a manner; Elaine really did own her world, and she allowed him to live in a little corner of it at a rent that he found it nearly impossible to pay.
    â€œThe trouble with some people’s best,” Elaine said, “is that it isn’t good enough.”
    â€œNothing will