In December, I agreed to have dinner at the Tideglass.
I made the agreement with myself first: I would stay for one hour, I would not let anyone decide what my presence meant, and I would leave if I felt myself slipping into old habits.
Diane greeted me with a hug. "Thank you for coming."
"I wanted to."
She looked pleased but didn't say anything about how glad she was that Jonah and I were talking again.
Jonah had set the table in the back room. There were three places, not two. Diane sat at the far end. The crab was already cooked, and a bowl of lemons stood in the center.
Jonah held up a cracker. "Do you want me to get you started?"
"No, thanks."
"Right."
He looked a little hurt, but he picked up his own plate.
We talked about the restaurant's winter hours and my work on the th
