She managed to get through the rest of her day without focusing too much on the looming issue with Grant. Tina loved work and often threw herself into it for that reason: it kept her from thinking too much.

When it was time to close up the shop, she was thinking about what she would have for dinner. She stopped at the Blue Crab cafe and got a sandwich that she ate on the walk home. There was still about an hour until Grant would be here, so she changed, put on her favorite calming music and mixed up a pitcher of iced tea. She was sitting on a stool in her kitchen, sipping at it, watching the ice dissolve when finally there was a knock at her door. Tina steeled herself and padded to the front door of her bungalow in her bare feet and opened the door.

Grant was there, looking worse for wear. Tina suddenly realized that she didn’t want to talk to him or hear his explanation, but there was nothing else to do but let him inside. Trying to send him away would only provoke a tiresome scene, and Tina didn’t have it in her to go through that. Rather than step back to let him in, Tina thought better of it and joined him on the small porch. She sat down on the whitewashed rocking chair and Grant just stood there, looking like a miserable little boy with his hands shoved in his pockets. She didn’t speak, just waited for him to say something.

“It’s not what you think, Tina.”

There was a pause and Tina said, “Go on,” and found she didn’t care about what he was about to say. She just wanted to get it over with.

“It happened – me and Shelly happened – it was just once.” Grant’s eyes met hers, his manner that of a puppy that had just been kicked by a merciless boot. The confident charmer was gone. She knew Grant to be a lot of things but she had never seen him quite like this.

“Tell me the truth, Grant. If you can. Was it really only once?”