When Violet and Zach got home after their first night out since becoming parents, her breasts were full because she hadn’t nursed Charlotte, still sleeping, for several hours. 

She pulled up her sweater and offered Zach one of her now-dripping breasts. 

“I want to but I can’t.” 

“Just try it.” 

“She’s going to wake up any minute.”  

“It’ll be fine.” 

“I’d feel like I was taking it away from her.”  

“It doesn’t work that way… you know what? Forget it.” 

He’d always been cautious—her only boyfriend who (like her) covered his ears when an ambulance or firetruck went by. After a long affair with a married man, in her mid-thirties she’d married Zach, who she cared about but wasn’t in love with. An orthodontist in his early thirties, he was in love with her and wanted children too. When she got pregnant almost right away, they became closer. And now, with Charlotte, she felt even closer to him, although she could tell already that her fantasy about how having a child would somehow loosen him up, wasn’t going to happen. 

When Charlotte was two months old they hired a nanny. Violet was still on partial leave from her job as a book agent, but working from home was distracting. And then an acquaintance who was living abroad but didn’t want to sublet her small Manhattan apartment, decided to rent (for a small fee) to someone who wouldn’t live there but would water her plants and keep an eye on things. Violet was ambivalent about being across town from Charlotte, but she liked that she could walk through Central Park to get there.  

She’d try to go for a few hours a few days a week; she’d read manuscripts and call clients. There was a Starbucks around the corner, and she was ordering coffee-to-go when she saw Dan (she couldn’t remember his last name) —a comedian she’d seen at a school fundraiser. The show had been close to her due date, but she and Zach had gone as a favor to friends who had a child at the school. The comic who was supposed to perform had cancelled, and Dan, who no one seemed to have heard of, was the substitute. 

Maybe mid-forties, he was pale with dark hair and a dark stubble. Black tee shirt and jeans. Slight paunch. His jokes—about Republicans; his ex-wife; suburban New Jersey, where he still lived; and dating—were weak (although Violet liked the ones about how the deaf should live near airports; and how if Martians came to earth, they’d feel sorry for all the poor people whose lawns didn’t have any pretty dandelions). 

The audience was polite (apparently his now-grown daughter had gone to the school), but subdued.  

Towards the end he said it was his birthday.  

Sparse applause. 

“I can’t believe how old I am.” 

Silence. 

Violet felt bad for him. 

“But I’ve had some good hotdogs.”  

A few laughs. 

“Of course Amazon will handle my cremation.” 

Weak laughter. 

And that was it. 

When Dan passed Zach and Violet’s table on his way out she smiled, and he smiled vaguely back. 

Then Charlotte was born and Violet’s life became exciting and exhausting. 

And now here she was, in her red coat that still just barely buttoned, passing his table on her way out of Starbucks. She thought he wasn’t unattractive—better looking than she remembered. 

When she smiled at him he looked confused. 

“I was at that PTO fundraiser.” She immediately regretted bringing up what must be a painful memory. 

“That was my first full show. And you’ll be happy to know that stand-up’s not my day job.” 

He did something with websites and also made house calls to rich people with computer problems.  

“I’m giving myself six months—five months now—with comedy.” 

He was divorced. His daughter, Rachel, was in college. He clearly adored her. 

Violet told him about Charlotte and using the apartment as a part-time office. She didn’t mention Zach, and Dan didn’t ask.  

“Actually, could you do me a favor? Can I try out some new material on you? It won’t take long.” 

Annoyed with herself for talking to him in the first place, she sat down, leaving on her coat. 

She thought several of his jokes—like how some condoms have rulers printed on them—were funny, but for some reason she couldn’t laugh. Since he was looking right at her, it was awkward.  

If he was hurt, he didn’t show it. 

“I especially liked the one about the condoms. I really think you’re funny, but for some reason I can’t laugh.” 

“Good to know.”  

Should she add something like, “I’m not an easy laugh” (which wasn’t true)? 

But that sounded… sexual.  

She stood up and practically fled to Emily’s apartment. The last thing she’d wanted was to make him feel bad. In fact, there was something about him that made her want to make him happy. 

*

Emily’s apartment was on the small side and, although it was only early October, tended to be cold. There was a small desk, but Violet usually worked at the kitchen table and turned on the oven for warmth. After her encounter with Dan she tried to read a few submissions, but she felt restless. She emailed a few clients and left. 

Later she nursed Charlotte, who was starting to be less interested. 

Her mother came for dinner, and Zach put Charlotte, in her bouncy chair, right on the table. Most of their conversation was about how spectacular she was. But after Violet tried to nurse her again and she kept turning her head away, Violet and Zach had a fight (right in front of her mother) because he worried that Charlotte wasn’t getting enough milk. Her mother didn’t say anything, but Violet could tell she agreed with him. And then later, when Violet mentioned Emily’s apartment, her mother kept asking why she couldn’t just stay home and work in her bedroom. She acted as if, Violet thought, she was using Emily’s apartment to have an affair. 

*

Violet and Charlotte joined a Mommy and Me group and for a few weeks Violet mainly went to the apartment to water the plants. But on New Year’s Day she resolved to catch up on her work: Zach could take Charlotte, now weaned, for a visit to Violet’s mother. (It would be their first outing alone together, and Zach was nervous but excited.) Violet would work at Emily’s in case for some reason they had to come back early. 

The Starbucks around the corner was about to close. There were chairs on top of the empty tables, and a few people, including Dan, were in line. Violet hadn’t seen him since she hadn’t laughed at his jokes, but now he’d seen her.  

After he got his coffee he waited beside her while she got hers. They made small talk about being Jewish at Christmas-time. She wished he’d go. Taking off her hat, she ran her fingers through her dark curls. 

“Hat head!” she muttered. 

“I had a girlfriend who had curls like yours. I used to think of them as Botticelli rotini.” 

Violet liked that. 

He followed her out.  

An ambulance drove by, and as she covered her ears, Dan was saying something.  

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” 

This had to be the most awkward relationship she’d ever had. 

“Can I use your bathroom?” 

Walking by the doorman with Dan also felt awkward. 

When he came out of the bathroom she reluctantly invited him to sit down and finish his coffee. She kept on her coat and so did he. A smoke alarm chirped from the apartment next door. 

They talked about feeling guilty for not supporting the independent coffee shop a few blocks away. She debated asking him to take a quick look at her sticking computer keys—she could still use them, but it was getting harder. The smoke alarm would stop, then a few minutes later start again. Maybe she should just go home and take a nap. 

Chirp. Chirp. Chirp. 

She and Dan rang the neighbor’s bell, but no one was home. They tried another neighbor who said the alarm had been going since the night before. The people who lived there were away for the holidays, as was the super.  

Violet and Dan went back to the apartment, took off their coats and drank their cold coffee. She thought of offering to reheat it, but that would prolong everything. 

Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.  

It was getting annoying. Maybe she’d wait for him to go, and then take a cab to her mother’s. 

She finished her coffee, but Dan was taking his time.  

He could probably fix her computer in a few minutes… actually, he should just go. 

Dan stood up. So did she. 

“Well, happy New Year,” he said. 

“Good luck with your comedy.” 

She yawned. 

“Sorry. Last night Zach, my husband, and I got a sitter and we went out to dinner. When we got back we didn’t make it to midnight—with the baby, we’re not used to staying up late anymore.” 

She wasn’t going to ask how he’d spent New Year’s Eve. There was something lonely about him. 

Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.  

He mentioned a restaurant he liked in the neighborhood. 

“Whenever I go there,” he said, “I always order a side of gluten.” 

She laughed. 

He grinned. 

She was pleased. A perfect ending. 

Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.  

Dan put his arms around her. 

She was surprised; then not surprised. 

Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.  

He kissed her. 

She’d never done anything like this and she knew she’d regret it. And how could she do it to Charlotte? And Zac? He’d never betray her. But she knew she was going to have sex with Dan. 

Afterwards she felt so guilty that she started shaking. 

“Are you okay?” 

She ran her fingers through her curls. 

“This can never ever happen again.”  

He didn’t argue. 

At the door he kissed the top of her head and left. 

*

Violet was still shaky during dinner, but Zach, excited after his successful outing with Charlotte, didn’t notice. Later, when Violet was emptying the wastebaskets, she saw that he’d put recyclables in with the regular garbage. 

“Why can’t you ever remember?” She showed him what he’d done.  

“I forgot.” 

It was particularly irritating because in other ways he was so meticulous. 

“It’s… disrespectful. Not only to me, but to… society.”  

She asked herself, Do you hear yourself? but she was too angry to let it go. 

“Okay. I get it,” he said. 

“Actually, you don’t.” 

They had one of their worst fights and went to bed without speaking. 

*

Violet tried working in her bedroom when the nanny was there, but she was so distracted that after a few days she went back to Emily’s apartment. She didn’t stop at Starbucks, but Dan, who must have been sitting by the window, ran out. 

“How are you?” he asked her. 

“Fine.” 

It started to drizzle. 

He was wearing a tee shirt. 

“You must be cold.” She rubbed her arms as if she were cold. 

“I’m fine.” 

“How’s the comedy?” 

“I’m working on it. How’s the baby?” 

“Good.” 

The rain was really coming down. 

“Well….” she said. 

“Take care.” 

“You take care.” 

She went up to Emily’s apartment and just sat there until the doorman rang to say Dan was downstairs, and she said he could come up. 

*

He’d bring coffee for both of them and they’d talk about their week. She wouldn’t say much about Zach. Sometimes Dan mentioned his daughter Rachel or complained about his real job. At some point they’d make love. After briefly falling asleep afterwards they’d dress and move to the sofa. It seemed as if he was always preparing for a show or doing a (usually gloomy) post-mortem on his performance. 

Occasionally he’d blurt out something like, “A good job for the deaf would be teaching music to elementary school children,” and she’d laugh.  

He loved to make her laugh. 

They kept forgetting to have him look at her computer.  

One day he mentioned that he suffered from depression. 

“But you always seem so happy when I see you.” 

“That’s because I’m seeing you.” 

After he left she’d worry that Zach would find out and sue for custody of Charlotte. She worried that before she knew it, her leave would be over. Soon Charlotte would be a year old. She and Dan (who hoped to eventually remarry) had agreed that when she went back to work full-time, that would be it for them. 

*

Nights after she’d been with Dan she’d try to make up for the work she hadn’t done at Emily’s. Sometimes, taking a break, she’d stream one of the stand-up comics Dan had recommended. 

One night she watched someone so funny she couldn’t believe she’d never heard of him.  

After a while Zach came by and stood in the doorway. 

“Do you want to watch with me?” she asked reluctantly, pausing it. 

“No.” 

But he kept standing there. 

It was all she could do not to tell him to either sit down or leave. 

She was about to go back to the show, when he left. 

Later, undressing for bed, he said that when he’d heard another man make her laugh, he felt jealous.  

*

On Dan’s birthday, instead of taking Charlotte to their Mommy and Me group Violet took her on the train to New Jersey. The brakes were squeaky and every time they stopped, Violet covered Charlotte’s ears until Charlotte would frown and push her hands away.  

Seeing Dan waiting for them on the platform in his black tee shirt and jeans, Violet realized that even when she went back to work, she wasn’t going to stop seeing him. And even if he met someone else, Violet was pretty sure he’d still want her in his life.  

Although Charlotte had recently developed a fear of strangers, she liked Dan right away.  

*

He ran around making faces and noises like a lunatic.  

Charlotte laughed and laughed. 

His apartment, full of furniture his ex hadn’t wanted, was on the dark side, but nicer than he’d described it. 

He told Violet a new joke from his series about Martians coming to earth.  

She loved all his jokes about Martians coming to earth. 

As she put Charlotte down for her nap in the room where Rachel stayed when she visited, she felt a pang: she’d brought her child to her lover’s apartment! 

Dan wanted to have sex, but Violet couldn’t do it with Charlotte so close by. 

They decided to eat lunch. 

He’d bought a quiche at the local co-op, but hadn’t heated it enough. 

“I can put it back in the oven,” he kept saying, but they ate it anyway. 

He’d made a salad that was pretty good. 

“I brought you a birthday present.”  

Violet took out a fancy box with a maroon robe.  

He tried it on over his tee shirt and jeans. 

“It’s so soft. I never had such a nice robe.” 

Violet didn’t say that she didn’t particularly like the way he looked in it. 

She’d brought a small cake, a candle, and champagne. 

“I guess I never told you I don’t like champagne,” he said, “but I have some wine.” 

She felt sad because she knew so little about him; and because before long, Emily would be back in her apartment. 

While he was getting the wine, she idly picked up the salad dressing bottle and saw that it had long expired. That made her sad, too. 

She wasn’t going to ask him if they could return the robe and choose another. For one thing, no matter how much time they had together, it never seemed to be enough. He hadn’t even gotten around to fixing her computer. They kept meaning to have her at least show him the problem, but then somehow it would be time for him to leave. Periodically one of them would tease about how he still hadn’t even taken a look at her computer. It was one of their jokes.