“He was small.” D couldn’t remember exactly where she was and had to review the room, her hands, the view from the window to get herself back. “And he talked a lot. Incessant, that’s what my mother called him.”

“This guy just left me seven texts.” E selected ‘all’ and punched delete. “He couldn’t drive, didn’t have his driver’s license. We were driving up to Lake George, and I left him in my car, in front of a liquor store. I was gone for less than two minutes. When I came out, there’s a cop writing a ticket, and this guy is just sitting in the car, pretending he doesn’t see anything.”

“Seven messages. Who does that?”

“He could have said something to the cop. Right?”

“Just leave one message. One.”

The sun was low across the water, making the world look like it had drowned. “I asked him to talk to someone for me, to introduce me to a client. He wouldn’t do it.”

“I am so done with crap like this.”

“And then he got into Jesus.”

“Is that why you dumped him?”

“We never went out.”

“Un-friended him then.”

She wanted to get up but couldn’t work up the desire.