“And she’s a sweetheart, so be nice.” She picks up my limp hand, waving it hello at him. “And this is Wesley Koehler, Violet’s groundskeeper.” Wesley Koehler. Wesley Koehler, Wesley Koehler, Wesley Koehler. It’s a foreign language. It’s inconceivable. He doesn’t look like a Wesley Koehler at all—he looks like a Jack McBride: deeply romantic, musically inclined, with a keen interest in real estate. Charismatic, charming. Avid traveler, surfer, and environmental activist. Has a real way with the ladies. There’s no such thing as a Jack McBride, I remind myself.
