“He told me with absolute authority that you wouldn’t be here. Do you know that?”

“That’s Dad.

“I almost wish I could love your sister,” Win said. “She looks like you, except she’s taller and her hair is straighter. She’s less moody than you, and pretty good company, too. But even if she weren’t seventeen years old, I couldn’t. She is not you.

“But back to what you should tell Natty,” he said. “You may tell her that I feel bad if she misunderstood what my feelings were for her. I understand how she may have been misled. Though I never thought of her as anything but a friend, I loved her in her sister’s place for three years. I was eager to see her above anyone else because I wanted to hear all her sister’s news.

“You may tell her that I was already aware, even before I got on the train to Niskayuna, that there was very little chance of her sister and me getting back together. I know that her sister is too stubborn and probably won’t ever forgive me for not supporting her when the club was opening. I know her sister sees impediments that don’t exist, like the fact that she has been through some physical traumas. I wish her sister knew how much I admired her, how much I regret not standing by her, how much I could love her still if someday, when she is feeling herself again, she might let me. You may tell her that when it comes to her sister, I have not much in the way of self- preservation instincts or dignity. She could marry ten other men, and it wouldn’t matter.”

“You shouldn’t wait for me, Win. I can’t right now. I wish I could, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

I did not expect him to smile at me, but that is what he did. He smiled at me and he wiped a tear from my cheek. “I thought you might say that. So here’s the deal and it’s a very simple one. I will love you forever. And in return, you can decide if you want to do anything with that love at some point down the road. But know there is no other girl for me but you. Not your sister. Or anyone else. My lot is to be the boy who loves Anya Balanchine. I made the wrong choice once upon a time and I think I’ve paid for it.” He took my chin in his hand. “And the good thing about my not being your boyfriend or your husband is that you don’t get to tell me what to do,” he said. “So I will wait, because I would rather wait for you than waste my time with someone who isn’t you. And I will focus on the long game. As they say in baseball, losing game one and even game two is no reason to give up on the whole series. When you’re ready, if you’re ever ready, give me the word.”

I looked at the peaches dying on the orchard ground. I watched the sun as it set. I saw the river streaming past. I heard him breathing, softly, and felt my own heart beating, beating. The world became still, and I tried to picture myself in the future. In the future, I was strong and I could run again and I was alone. “What’s the word?” I said softly. “In case I am ever ready. You know I’m not good with these things. What do I say?”

“I’ll make it easy for you, then. All you have to do is tell me to walk you home.”

* * *

As the planning for his mayoral campaign had kept him in the city, Mr. Delacroix had been around only intermittently that summer. He came back the day before Natty and I were to leave to help Win’s mother close up the house. I had gone to pick a bag of apples to bring back to the city, and I was taking them into the house when I saw him crossing the lawn toward me.

“You’re looking awfully robust,” he said. “I am feeling pleased with myself for having sent you here.”

“You are always pleased with yourself,” I said.

We went to sit on the deck. He took out the chess set and arranged it on the table.

“Win is gone, I see,” he said.

“Yes.”

“My plan was a complete failure, then?”

I didn’t reply.

“Well, I cannot be blamed. I’ve never tried to play matchmaker before.”

“What a strange man you are. You break something up only to try to put it back together years later.”

“I love my son,” Mr. Delacroix said. “I suspected he hadn’t quite gotten over you, and so I tried to contrive a meeting. I thought your heart might be open to a reunion and that such a reunion might lead to a spot of joy for you. You have had a hard time these years, and it pleased me to imagine that you might be happy for a time. And, as I am not a perfect man, I did not mind the thought of perhaps a little redemption for me.”

I moved my castle. “I don’t know how you ever thought that would work. No one likes being set up by his father. Even if I was gullible enough to believe your lies, Win knew what you were up to from the beginning.”

He positioned his king away from my queen.

I was about to move my queen closer but then I stopped. “Honestly, a few days in August? You might have run the plan by me. If this were business, I’d fire you. I don’t like being set up.”

“Point taken. I am good at plotting, but it is easier to deal with pawns and politicians than human hearts, I am afraid. I see right through you. You are stalling for time. Move, Anya.”

I left my queen where she was and used my pawn to block his other bishop.

“It was a nice plan,” I said, “but I think I am too different from when I was in high school.”

“I don’t know about that,” he said.

I decided to change the subject. “When I get back to the city, I’ve been thinking about looking into producing a line of Dark Room cacao ‘candy’ bars. A bar that people could take home instead of eating at the club. Cacao for shut-ins like myself. There’s still money to be made in chocolate bars, I’d say.”

“It’s an interesting notion.” He advanced his queen and then he looked at me. “Anya, I have something I need to say to you. I imagine you already know what it is. The mayoral campaign means that I will have to step down from the Dark Room. I can help you hire a different lawyer—”

“No, it’s fine,” I said coldly. “I will look for one as soon as I am back in the city.”

“I can make recommendations—”

“I am capable of finding a lawyer, Mr. Delacroix. I found you, didn’t I? I have known lawyers my whole life. The kind of life I’ve led has made me an expert in such arrangements.”

“Anya, are you angry at me? You must have known this day would come.”

The truth was, I had grown very attached to him. I would miss him, but it was too hard to say. I had worked steadfastly to never need anyone my whole life.

“We will see each other,” he said. “I’d even hoped you would be involved in the campaign.”

“Why would you want someone like me involved?” I asked. Yes, I was pouting.

“Listen, stop being foolish, Anya. If there’s anything you ever need, I will provide it, assuming it’s within my ability to do so. Do you know what I’m saying?”

“Good luck, colleague,” I said. I got up and left. I was not very fast though, and he might have caught up with me if he’d wanted to.

I was almost to my room, which I would soon surrender to summer, to the past. As I set my hand on the knob, I wondered what was wrong with me that I could not say to him, Thank you and good luck with the campaign.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t go this way,” Mr. Delacroix said. “I know exactly what you are thinking. I know you so well. I know exactly what thoughts turn behind that opaque visage of yours. You have been abandoned so many times. You think if our business relationship ends, that we will not be in each other’s lives anymore. But we will. You are my friend. You are as dear to me as my own flesh and blood, and as improbable as this is, I love you like my daughter. So good luck, colleague, if that’s what it must be,” he said. He hugged me hard. “And please be well.”

* * *

The next day, Natty and I went to the train station.

“I’m still so embarrassed,” she said. I had conveyed Win’s message, leaving out the parts where he said he still loved me.

“Don’t be,” I said. “I’m sure he understands.”

“Do you love him?” she asked me after a while. “I know you said you didn’t, but do you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I couldn’t sleep last night. The more I thought about it, the more I started to realize that what I had thought was his love for me was, in fact, love for you. And my face grew hot and I started to sweat and I was so mortified I wanted to physically leave my body. I started to think of the day I told him how worried I was about you not eating—you are still scrawny—but that it was hard to deal with you because you are stoic, and you won’t ask

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