"Will anyone be joining you?'

"I'm not sure. Probably not."

"I ask because I have an extra pair of pajamas now."

Damn, he recognizes me! It's been five years but he hasn't forgotten us. Well, I suppose he doesn't get many guests, and he "remembers" Teddy Roosevelt staying here.

"Thank you, but we won't be needing them."

"Very well. The same room?"

"Um, have you fixed the ceiling?"

"Of course! It's been five years."

"Then that will be fine, thank you."

I go to the room and set down my bag. I sink wearily into the chair. I can't sit on either bed, not yet.

I know it was foolish to come here, foolishness piled upon foolishness. But just because Tony broke his promises, spoken and unspoken, is no reason for me to. And after all, weren't Ingrid & Anthony supposed to be separate from us?

While he stood there in my home office, his face blank as a stone, I tried to be mature, I tried to be honest, I tried to be fair. I did not invoke Ingrid, I did not tell him how he'd betrayed her as well as me. I'm sure he knew that. And he did it anyway.

I still don't know Kathleen very well. I can't tell you what the attraction is. Yes, she's pretty and she's sexy and she's bright and she's hard-working. But different women he's dated over the years have been one or more of those things. Hell, Frankie was all of those things and even more, although I suppose Kathleen doesn't mind drinking beer out of the bottle either.

What is the mysterious hold Kathleen has over Tony? In the entire time he's lived in Connecticut, and probably not since Marie, he has never dated a woman more than a couple weeks. (I don't count Tanya. I think she was what Mother would call an eff-buddy. Well, Mother wouldn't say "eff.")

I was so blind when it began. I even invited his study group over the next day! I sat drinking coffee in the kitchen with Kathleen while we waited for Tony and the others to get there. I thought nothing of her questions about Tony. I thought we were just making conversation. I tried not to gush about how wonderful he is. Was? No, he's still wonderful. He's all those things I told her: a hard worker, the best housekeeper imaginable, a born teacher and coach, a loyal friend.

Yes, I still believe on some level that he's loyal. And he's still a friend. I want to salvage that, and forget the rest.

So what am I doing here? I guess I'm not ready for Ingrid to give up Anthony, even though I'm sure he won't show up this time. Or will he?

I remind myself he has a girlfriend. This tryst would be cheating, even if we try to pretend, as always, that it has nothing to do with our real lives. But then Tony cheated on Angela, didn't he?

Or did Anthony cheat on Ingrid? Was he Ingrid's Anthony with Kathleen? It was his penis, but was it everything else that I love about him?

When he first told me, I was startled and hurt, but I was willing to put it aside, to move on. I didn't understand why he had to have a one-night stand when the gap between "anniversaries" would be so short this time. But, really, it was no worse than any of the other times he slept with other women post-first-reunion-with-Ingrid.

Yes, I wish he could've resisted, particularly since we had only two more months to wait. But OK, a one-night stand. One night and it was over. Well, he probably told himself that about Ingrid, too.

When I asked him if it was over with Kathleen, he said he didn't know. What did that mean? If he had said, "No, I think I'm falling for her," well, it would've hurt terribly, but at least I would've known where I stood. He didn't know. How could he not know?

Was he waiting for me to fight for him, to beg him to come back to me? Well, Ingrid will plead for sex when she's in the mood, but only because she knows that Anthony just likes to be coaxed as much as she does sometimes. And why should I beg for Tony, why should I humiliate myself like that? And was (is?) Tony, a man who could so lightly throw away all that we had, was he worth fighting for?

I don't mean to say "good riddance." I loved Tony. I still love him. I love him so much that I want him to be happy, even if that means letting him go. I told him that maybe this is just part of our journey, this time of exploration with others. I didn't believe it then but I hoped to when the pain died away enough.

So I've dated since That Night. I keep it casual with Peter. Not casual sex, I can't do that (even Ingrid never slept with a stranger after all), but casual dating. Dining, dancing, kissing. The way I used to date in the pre-tryst days.

Yes, I got infatuated with Christopher, but I couldn't be entirely swept away. I couldn't allow that. Not now.

So let's say Tony and/or Anthony walks through that door. Let's say he decides he has to keep this promise. What would it mean? Would Ingrid still be his "woman on the side," but with Kathleen rather than Angela as the person he spends the rest of the year with? Or would he break up with Kathleen, for Ingrid's sake if not Angela's?

Or would Tony be himself, needing to explain to his best friend, somewhere far away from the house we've shared for six years? (We did not celebrate that anniversary last month.)

And how would Ingrid feel? Ingrid knows nothing about Kathleen, and she might not even care. As long as she gets her magical weekend, why should she care who gets the other fifty-one?

How tempting it would be to pretend that I know nothing of Kathleen! To let Tony back into my arms, into my body. But I can't, I can't. If he shows up, I'd want to throw things and scream. Or maybe cry, to not hold back my tears like I've tried to since That Night.

I want Tony to comfort me for what Tony did. How wonderful it would be if he really were two people. Anthony could hold me as I rant about Tony. Or if I were Ingrid, able to be with Anthony like always, happily ignorant of where his mouth, hands, and penis have been.

No, I don't know what he's done in bed with Kathleen. I do my best to not imagine it. And it doesn't matter as much as that I've lost all that I had with 363-days-a-year Tony.

Well, maybe not all of it. But things are tense between us in a completely different way. Oh, I know we couldn't have maintained the giddy, flirty tension indefinitely. But I hoped that someday it would dissipate, and we'd replace it with certainty, security. But we haven't even clearly "broken up," because we were never quite together.

Yet we're not quite apart either. We still live together, he still works for me. We still raise two children together, although the kids have made themselves as scarce as possible this summer. Jonathan said that, since he skipped seeing Michael last summer (Jamaica fell during that time), he owed him two months this year. And Sam at first claimed to be wrapped up in finding a summer job, and then ran off to New Mexico, to work at a dude ranch! I don't blame them for wanting to be away. If I could hide in this motel for two months, I would.

I think the last straw was Christopher, or rather Tony's ridiculous behavior about him. They never quite met, and Tony developed some insane jealousy about my mystery man. I think "obsession" was the term Ernie, our water man, used when he told me. (Of course he told me! He told Tony about my "affair" with an employee.) I couldn't decide if I was more annoyed or amused.

Tony even followed me and Christopher to a restaurant! I don't mean he took a neighboring table and said, "Angela, what a surprise!" I mean he snuck around the restaurant, trying to catch a glimpse of Christopher while trying to keep out of sight. And he dragged poor Kathleen along! I mean it, I actually felt sorry for her. I have no idea how serious they are, but if even a casual boyfriend took me on a date to a fancy restaurant and spent the whole time obsessing about his boss's date, well, I don't think I'd keep dating him. Either she's not as bright as I thought, or she's so crazy about Tony that she'll put up with all his crap.

And I? Am I so crazy about him that I'll put up with all his crap? That is the $64,000 question. And I don't know the answer. But maybe I'll know by the end of this weekend.

I fling myself on "my bed." Yes, they fixed the ceiling. Not very well. You can see where it collapsed. Or perhaps there has been more damage since. How much can you patch things up and pretend they're stronger than ever?

I glance over at the empty bed to my left. "Well, Anthony, what do you think?"

I imagine Anthony's reply: I don't know, Ingrid. From what you've told me, this guy always worried about losing you as a friend. And so he didn't sleep with you. And now he's lost you anyway.

"He hasn't lost me. But he lost much of what we had. And I've lost it, too. And it's not fair!" I begin sobbing.

Anthony's spirit comes over and sits on the bed. He strokes my hair. I know, Baby, you don't deserve that.

"Maybe I do! Maybe I'm not supposed to be loved."

Baby, you are. You more than anyone. If this guy can't give you all of himself, then maybe you'd better find someone else.

"But I want Tony! I want my Tony!"

He's not your Tony right now. Maybe someday he will be again. But you can't put your life on hold for him forever.

"So what do I do? Fire him? Kick him out? Never see him again?"

No, that would kill you. Probably him, too. Just stop thinking about the future for awhile. Definitely don't think about the past so much. Just think about the present.

"I hate the present!"

A warm ghostly chuckle. You have a successful business. You own your own home, a beautiful home. You have people who care about you. And Tony is one of them, even if he doesn't know how to show it.

I take what comfort I can from his words and touches, even though they only exist in my mind. Maybe Anthony only ever existed in my mind. Well, and Tony's mind. A grown-up game that he wearied of. It was fun while it lasted, and it lasted longer than you'd expect for a one-night stand founded on an adolescent kiss.

I can't help wondering what place Ingrid holds in Tony's mind now. He always seemed conflicted, wanting to banish her from our home and needing to invite her in. Maybe now she's returned to just the first girl he ever kissed. Maybe in time Anthony will just again mean my "first grown-up kiss."

But for now, I need to imagine him holding me, cuddling me, making love to me. Because I'm not quite ready to say goodbye.