Ryan was explaining that the one time he’d been to Jeffers’ great-uncle’s home, it had been impromptu: Their freshman year, in the delirium of just finishing exams, turning in their final papers, they’d decided, having barely slept, they’d get in the car and go — a road trip to Vermont, to this old lake house Jeffers loved so much. “Did you two even tell the great-uncle you were coming?” Helena asked, turning up the heat. They were traveling a winding rural road, occasionally passing a house or small farm. In the dark, the sudden snowfall was a mist over the landscape. “I think Jeffers called him first, but I remember him saying regardless it’d be okay. He had a standing invitation and his great-uncle was lonely. He’d welcome our company.” Ryan put on the windshield wipers. “We showed up with a bottle of the great-uncle’s favorite scotch. He was thin, with jug ears and this shy smile. He ushered us in, and we immediately had a drink on the back porch, a toast to our first year in college. “Every morning, we went fishing out in a rowboat. It had to be morning, something about when the trout were feeding. Jeffers and his uncle were so focused. We were quiet, still, except when reeling in fish. In the afternoons, we sat on the porch and read, and drank more scotch. The great-uncle cooked the fish for dinner — dredged in flour and fried in butter. He liked the radio to be playing, baseball games in the background. “He was lonely, as Jeffers had said. He was in his early sixties. His wife had passed away a few years before — something unexpected, awful. I think she’d drowned. Jeffers had warned me that he’d want us to tell him everything about school. And that last night, as we were washing dishes, he said he wished we could stay longer. I thought he was going to start crying, poor old guy.” “What was his name?” “We’ll have to ask Jeffers when he arrives.” Ryan shook his head. “I remember the Red Sox were winning. He was handing me dishes to dry and he was blinking really quickly.” “That’s a sad story,” Helena said. “Or it has a sad ending.” “We stayed a week, and mainly it was a blast. I told him about you, you know.” He gave her a quick…