Joe reeled around the apartment and then e-mailed back, "Congratulations! I'll be there. More congratulations. Love, Dad." He pulled an electric broom from the back of his closet and began pushing it back and forth across the carpet. Jackson was a good fellow. Kate was happy. He had never met Jackson's parents. He was going to have to be respectable. Where was San Juan Island, anyway? Reservations? The last dust crumb had disappeared into the electric broom when Joe stopped pacing. He put the vacuum cleaner away and decided that the sensible thing to do was to take a walk. The phone rang. "Hi, Joe." "Uh, hey there." It was Alison. "I enjoyed dinner last night." "So did I." "Joe, would you come exploring with me? I'm going to rent a car and see some of the island." "Well, sure," he said, "but I've got a lot to do." "Me, too. It will be fun, Joe. I'm thinking about the end of the week, maybe Friday or Saturday." "Saturday would be good," he said, pushing it ahead. "I'll pick you up at ten. How do I get to your place?" He gave directions and then suggested that she meet him at Tops instead. "That way I can get some writing done early, and it won't matter if you get held up." "Tops--near the Ilikai?" "Yes." "O.K. Ten o'clock. Joe, have you written down the story about the girl and the cat burglar?" "No." "It's your responsibility,"Alison said. "Mmm. My daughter's getting married! I just heard." "Wonderful! You can tell me all about it, Saturday. What kind of car do you like to drive?" "Something heavy . . . with a machine gun." "Oh, Joe." "If they're out of those, get the kind with the bumper tires lashed around." "O.K.--if they have them," she said. "See you Saturday." Joe put a new notebook in his back pocket, and left for the second walk of the day. He found the San Juan Islands in an atlas at the main library. They were small, off the northernmost coast of Washington. He strolled to the Columbia Inn and ate a Reuben sandwich. It would be good to see everyone and to meet Jackson's family. All he had to do was show up in shape and not drink too much. He would buy an outfit that could travel in the Filson bag. A camera. The Edgewater, he thought. Stay there Thursday, stay on the island Friday and Saturday nights, and then go back to the Edgewater on Sunday--that would break up the trip. He made a list, and then he began to write about Mike and the little girl. The message light was blinking when he got home. "Joe, are you there?" It was Mo. "No? I'm afraid lunch will have to wait. My sister has talked me into going on a retreat with her. I'm going to combine the trip with work, and then we're both going to Vermont for my parents' fiftieth wedding anniversary. I won't be back until Labor Day." She paused. "Maybe we can get together then. Bye." Damn. Joe had been hoping that she would be a buffer against Alison's attention. He made tea, sat at the computer, and began to enter the cat burglar story.