Walked through downtown.
Bought Evan a book.
Clare called into meetings from Dean's truck while he worked on a farmer's transmission.
Dean watched her switch between soft laughter and precise authority.
She watched him solve mechanical problems with patience he rarely extended to himself.
On the fourth evening, they were alone.
Evan stayed with Megan.
Clare and Dean walked beside Lake Emerald.
Cold wind moved across the water.
Clare wore Dean's work jacket because she had underestimated Vermont.
It swallowed her.
He liked seeing her in it too much.
She caught him staring.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're bad at nothing."
Dean looked toward lake.
Clare stepped in front of him.
"Are you going to kiss me?"
He stared.
"You really haven't changed."
"I waited four days."
"A lifetime."
"Exactly."
Dean touched her face.
His thumb moved along her cheek.
Clare's expression softened.
"Tell me to stop."
He shook his head.
"I can't."
Then he kissed her.
It was not like the almost-kiss by the car.
It was not nostalgic.
That surprised both of them.
Nine years should have made it feel unfamiliar.
Instead, the first second was recognition and everything after was new.
Clare put both hands against his chest.
Dean pulled her closer.
Cold wind.
Water.
Leaves beneath their shoes.
Her mouth warm against his.
When they separated, both were breathing differently.
Clare smiled.
"Still know how."
Dean laughed quietly.
"Apparently."
She kissed him again.
Slower.
Then rested her forehead against his.
"That was a bad idea."
"Yes."
"Again?"
"Probably."
They did.
Later, sitting inside Dean's truck with the heater running, Clare looked at him.
"What happens when I go back to Boston?"
Dean had been avoiding that.
"Your project is in Vermont."
"For six months."
"So?"
"My office is Boston."
"Two hours."
"Three."
"Depends how you drive."
She smiled.
"What about you?"
"I'm here."
"Evan's school."
"Here."
"Your work."
"Here."
Clare looked through windshield.
"I'm not asking you to move."
"Good."
"Dean."
He looked.
"I'm telling you I don't know how to do this."
He smiled faintly.
"Neither do I."
"Long distance?"
"Partly."
"Single father."
"Yes."
"Widower."
"Still."
"First love."
"Unfortunately."
She hit his arm.
He caught her hand.
"One day at a time."
Clare stared.
"You hate plans now?"
"No."
"I learned plans lie."
She laughed.
"That's depressing."
"Practical."
He kissed her knuckles.
"Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"We see what tomorrow looks like."
Clare nodded.
"Okay."
That became their rule.
Tomorrow.
Not forever.
Not destiny.
Tomorrow.
The first problem came two weeks later.
Clare missed Evan's school science night.
She had promised.
A city hearing in Boston ran four hours late.
She called.
Dean did not answer.
She called Evan.
No answer.
By the time she reached Dean that evening, he was home.
"Hi."