“I’ve never been good at languages.” The breeze floated through the open window, taking the edge off the heat.
“I’m talking about men. You understand men.”
Matilda burst out laughing. “Fictional men. I understand my characters, but that’s because I’m the one who made them up. And I hope I understand Chase, at least most of the time.”
Chase had been the one who had led Fliss into the house, and he’d hovered close to Matilda and the baby until she’d gently shoed him off to do some work. The look he and Matilda had shared had made it clear to Fliss that they’d forgotten she was even in the room.
Once again she’d found herself envying their close connection. “Do you tell Chase everything?”
“Yes. It’s what makes it so good. I don’t have to hide who I am from him, he knows and loves me anyway.” Matilda settled the baby more comfortably. “So what is it you need me to translate? Body language or a situation?”
“You told me the other day that you think through the reasons people act the way they do. So that’s what I want to know. The reason.” She’d been thinking about it all night. Her brain had gone around and around until she’d felt dizzy with thinking. And still she couldn’t make sense of it. She’d spent a decade thinking things were a certain way, and now that they were different she didn’t recognize what she was looking at. “I need to understand why Seth is behaving the way he is.”
“I’m going to need a little more information.”
“It’s the first time I’ve seen him in ten years—”
“As yourself.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve seen him as Harriet.”
Fliss sent her a look. “Are you going to keep interrupting?”
“Sorry.”
“He invited me to dinner. Why do that? Why go to the trouble of dinner for what might have been the most awkward encounter of the decade?”
“That’s why you’re so distracted.” Matilda nodded, as if Fliss had just shared something momentous. “I’m guessing it was because he didn’t want to rush it. Dinner ensures that you have time to say what needs to be said. He took you to a restaurant? What type of restaurant? Romantic, or neutral territory?”
“It wasn’t a restaurant. He invited me to his home. He cooked.”
“I love a man who can cook.” Matilda tucked the blanket around the baby. “And cooking for you at home is more personal than a restaurant. Intimate.”
“That makes no sense. Why would he want it to be personal and intimate?”
“Perhaps he thought it was better for your relationship to spend time together without anyone else around.”
“What relationship? This is why I’m confused. Our relationship was over ten years ago, and even when it was running hot we didn’t do dinners.” But they’d done romantic moonlight walks on the beach. And they’d done other things, too. Things she couldn’t stop thinking about.
“So what did you do first time around? How did you spend your time?”
Fliss looked at the baby. “She’s too young to hear it.”
“Right.” Matilda laughed. “I get the picture. It was more hormones than head or heart.”
There had been heart, Fliss thought. On her side, at least. There had been so much heart she’d found it difficult to pick herself up afterward. But that wasn’t something she shared.
“Last night he cooked, then we had a walk on the beach and talked.”
“Seems straightforward. So which part of that needs deciphering?”
“The things he said weren’t the things I expected him to say.”
Matilda looked at her. “If you’re expecting some input from me, you’re going to have to give me more.”
“I assumed he was mad at me. I mean, he should have been mad at me.”