It was late. Robin had gotten dressed and left about 1:00 a.m., giving me a kiss and a pat. He’d left a note on my coffeepot to tell me that he’d talk to me later. He’d signed it, “Love, your Robin.” I had to wait awhile before I had my coffee that morning. Something I’d eaten the day before, or maybe just the volume of the food, had made me a little queasy. When I had a piece of toast, I felt much better, and by the time nine o’clock rolled around, I figured Melinda would be up and dressed and safely into her morning. I poured some kibble into Madeleine’s bowl while I waited for Melinda to pick up the phone. I wondered why Madeleine didn’t come in, and realized I hadn’t seen her the evening before, either. But that wasn’t especially significant. I often missed her little visits to her food bowl. Melinda had had a good time at her parents’ home, she reported. She’d seen her brother and her sister, and their children had played with her children. She sounded as though she hadn’t been ready for that little reunion to end.
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