And Veronica’s funeral. She couldn’t bear to be near him; she only wanted to be near him. She was at a standoff with herself. “How long are you staying?” she asked him. “I don’t know,” he said. “How long are you staying?” “I don’t know,” she said. She was angry enough at Connie to threaten to leave right that second—but where on earth would she go? “Does anyone want lunch?” Connie asked brightly. He looked good, but this only vexed Meredith further. She couldn’t find her balance. There was so much she was dealing with already, and now Toby. Here, in person. He was wearing a green shirt and khaki shorts. His hair was the same, his face was the same but older, with lines and sun spots, but he was still a gorgeous golden lion of a man. Were they actually the same people who had kissed against the tree on Robinhood Road? Were they the same people who had made love in the Martin family library?
