"As appealing as you'd be as a house husband--" Joan thinks about it for several heartbeats, then shakes her head. "You would be miserable and so would I. After three weeks of puttering around, you'd have rearranged everything in the kitchen and medicine cabinets and I'd be indicted for manslaughter."

She's smiling, but her breath releases as a low sigh. "We need something meaningful to do here or we're going to lose our minds." The words come rushing out before she can stop them: "I'm thinking of going overt on the island."