Sometimes Harrison seemed like an old man, crooked and worn out. He was cranky at the end of workdays, loosening his tie and watching the evening news. They probably shouldn’t have moved in together so soon, but rent in New York was insane and both of their leases were up and they were spending almost every night together anyway. It seemed like a good idea. Now Isabel a couldn’t imagine how they would ever get out of it even if they wanted to.

“Do you ever hate Ken?” Isabel a had asked her friend Mary a couple of weeks ago. They were getting manicures on a Wednesday night after work and the question just came out. Ken was Mary’s new boyfriend, a nice guy who made al of their friends comment, “Oh, there he is. That’s what she’s been waiting for,” as if finding your perfect match was a guarantee as long as you were patient enough.

Mary raised her eyebrows and looked closely at a nail she’d just smudged.

“Hate him?” she asked.

“Yeah. Hate him,” Isabel a said. “The other night I looked at Harrison and I just … I don’t know.”

“I don’t know if I ever hate him,” Mary said. “But he sure bugs the living fuck out of me sometimes.”

That night they al went to the North End for Italian food. They ate pasta and drank less wine than they had the night before, and Brinkley, Coco, and Harrison al exchanged information about people they’d gone to school with.

“Cathleen’s pregnant again,” Coco said. “But she’s not real y tel ing anyone yet, so don’t say anything.”

Coco always knew the best gossip, and almost everything she said was fol owed by a disclaimer that she wasn’t supposed to repeat it. The first time Isabel a had met Coco was at a wedding of Brinkley and Harrison’s friend Tom. Coco spent most of the reception sharing bits of information with Isabel a. The bride had cheated on the groom in col ege with another friend, Dave, who hadn’t been invited to the wedding, and also one of the bridesmaids had been in love with the groom since freshman year!

Isabel a took these confidences to mean that Coco real y liked her, that she wanted to be friends, and she was flattered by the attention. But after a few more encounters, Isabel a realized there was nothing special about her. Coco just couldn’t keep a secret.

Back at their house, Coco put out cookies and poured everyone some wine. The baby was wide awake, and lay on the floor on a pink blanket with a mobile of stuffed farm animals above her. She babbled at them like she was tel ing a story.

“You have a lot to say tonight, don’t you?” Coco asked the baby.

“Just like her mother,” Harrison said, and they al laughed.

For some reason this made Isabel a feel left out, like she was crashing a reunion. She sat on the floor next to the baby, pretending to be so interested in Elizabeth that she didn’t care about the conversation around her. The three of them were stil trading information about people from col ege, but they had moved on to peripheral friends, people Isabel a had never even met.

“Dorothea got laid off!” Coco almost yel ed this one, so happy that she’d remembered it. She tucked her legs underneath her, gearing up to tel the whole story. “She was just about to be promoted too, or that’s what she thought. And she was looking at places to buy in the city when they cal ed her in. Can you believe it?” She took a sip of wine for dramatic effect. “She’s pretty embarrassed about it, so don’t broadcast it or anything.

She had to move back in with her parents on Long Island. Can you imagine? Ugh,” Coco shuddered.

Isabel a actual y could imagine it and she wondered if she was the only one. Her life, as it was, felt very thin, very transportable. If she were to lose her job, moving back in with her parents might be exactly what she’d do. She wasn’t married to Harrison, and they didn’t have a child. She could just sel her bed and couch and pack up and move home to her parents’ house, easy as pie.

This wasn’t normal, she didn’t think. But was Coco more normal? They were almost the same age and Coco had started a whole other life with babies, and golden retrievers, and picnic baskets. It was a life that felt miles away for Isabel a.

Isabel a sat cross-legged in front of the baby and started tickling her toes. “This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home …,” she began quietly. Elizabeth’s eyes grew very round and she looked serious. “This little piggy ate roast beef, and this little piggy had none.” Elizabeth was almost completely stil , her eyes fixed on Isabel a. “And this little piggy went weee weee weee, al the way home!” Isabel a finished and tickled the baby up her legs onto her stomach. Elizabeth looked frightened for a moment and then started to laugh and snort.

“You’re so good with her,” Coco said. Isabel a was offended that she sounded surprised.

“Isabel a has a lot of nieces and nephews,” Harrison said, not unkindly, though it made Isabel a feel like an awkward teenager who they were trying to praise and include. She excused herself shortly after and went upstairs to bed. The three of them stayed up late talking and it felt lonely to listen to their voices from another room.

Isabel a didn’t sleep wel that night and was up and dressed, sitting by her packed bag, before Harrison was even out of the shower. Coco had bagels and muffins and coffee ready, so they sat down to eat, and Isabel a was sure that this weekend was never going to end. She sipped her coffee, wanting the good-byes and hugs and promises to visit soon to be over already. Harrison was slow to gather his things and lingered at the table. Isabel a thought she might stand up and scream.

Final y they were on their way. Isabel a wanted to drive by Boston Col ege, maybe stop in the bookstore to buy a sweatshirt. The car windows were down and the wind blowing in was such perfect fal wind that it made Isabel a happy. She put her hand outside and felt the crispness mixed with leftover summer.

“Did you have fun?” Harrison asked her, looking sideways and reaching over to put his hand on her thigh. “I’m sorry if it wasn’t exactly what you wanted to do.”

“Would you ever want to move to Boston?” she asked.

“No,” he said. He looked over at her again. “Why? Is that something you think you want to do?”

She felt immediate relief and shook her head no. She smiled at him.

“It’s a nice place to visit, a great city for col ege, but I can’t picture living here again,” he said. “It’s like a fake city, you know?”

She laughed a little, thril ed that he’d said just what she was thinking. Isabel a had flipped back and forth on Harrison so many times this weekend that she’d lost track of where she was. What did that mean, exactly? She thought it couldn’t be good.

She took his hand and kissed it, then held it in her lap. “It was great,” she said. “Real y fun.” He smiled and looked back out at the road.

“That baby’s pretty cute, right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, and took back his hand to turn the wheel.

As they pul ed up to the campus, Isabel a felt the same way she had when she’d returned each fal . Her stomach dropped with excitement and her throat tingled. She started looking around as though she was going to see someone she knew. Groups of girls were walking to the dining hal in pajama pants and messy ponytails. They were laughing and screaming, and Isabel a wanted to join them and eat bacon and eggs while they talked about the night before. What happened? Isabel a wanted to know. Who made out? Were there any boys there you liked?

Isabel a and Harrison walked around holding hands, and Isabel a pointed out the dorms she’d lived in and different buildings to Harrison. He was bored, she knew, and she didn’t care.

“Isn’t it pretty here?” she asked. “Isn’t it prettier than Tufts? It’s real y the prettiest campus I’ve ever seen.”

Final y he laughed and put his arm around her shoulders. “You might be a little biased, don’t you think?” he asked. He was talking to her in his aren’t you cute voice, which he used to use a lot more at the beginning of their relationship. He hadn’t used it much recently and Isabel a wasn’t sure if this was normal or not.

Isabel a had realized a couple of weeks ago that this was the longest relationship she had ever had. She was now twenty-nine. She could no longer compare this to crazy Wil from col ege or Ben the Stoner. Now this had turned into her “real relationship,” the one she would have to compare every other relationship to. Or not compare it to, if it was the one that would last.