42.
Where is Perry this time?” asked Gwen as she settled down on Celeste’s couch with her knitting.
Gwen had been babysitting for the boys since they were babies. She was a grandmother of twelve, with an enviably firm manner and a little stash of gold-wrapped chocolate coins in her handbag, which wouldn’t be necessary tonight, as the boys were already sound asleep.
“Geneva,” said Celeste. “Or, wait, is it Genova? I can’t remember. He’ll still be in the air right now. He left this morning.”
Gwen studied her in a fascinated sort of way. “He leads an exotic life, doesn’t he?”
“Yes,” said Celeste. “I guess he does. I shouldn’t be very late. It’s a new book club, so I’m not sure—”
“Depends on the book!” said Gwen. “My book club just did the most interesting book. Now, what was it called? It was about . . . Now, what was it about? Nobody really liked it all that much, to be honest, but my friend Pip, she likes to serve a dish that sort of complements the book, so she made this marvelous fish curry, although it was quite spicy, so we were all a little, you know, Pip!” Gwen waved both hands in front of her mouth to indicate spiciness.
The only problem with Gwen was that it was sometimes hard to get away. Perry could do it charmingly, but Celeste found it awkward.
“Well, I’d better be off.” Celeste leaned down to pick up her phone, which was on the coffee table in front of Gwen.
“That’s a nasty bruise!” said Gwen. “What have you done to yourself?”
Celeste pulled the sleeve of her silk shirt farther down her wrist.
“Tennis injury,” she said. “My doubles partner and I both went for the same shot.”
“Ow!” said Gwen. She looked up at Celeste steadily. There was silence for a moment.
“Well,” said Celeste. “As I said, the boys shouldn’t wake—”
“It might be time to find another tennis partner,” said Gwen. There was a no-nonsense edge to her voice. The one Celeste had heard her use to astonishing effect when the boys were fighting.
“Well. It was my fault too,” said Celeste.
“I bet it wasn’t.” Gwen held Celeste’s eyes. It occurred to Celeste that in all the years she’d known Gwen, there had never been mention of a husband. Gwen seemed so completely self-contained, so chatty and busy, with all her talk of her friends and grandchildren; the idea of a husband seemed superfluous.
“I’d better go,” said Celeste.