WITH the kids at her parents’ and dinner under their belts, Rob and Penny strolled barefoot along the beach. Conscious that romance was appreciated on such occasions, Rob volunteered a memory: the first time he knew he loved her. He recalled a group picnic at Scarborough Beach, the way the afternoon sun kissed her perfect complexion and teasingly shot through her linen shirt, and her leading him away from the group to the seclusion of the dunes. ‘Jesus Christ, Rob! That wasn’t even me!’ she said, withdrawing. His redundant ‘Are you sure?’ was lost in the crashing of the waves.