Although it’s close to Labor Day, there is no hint of fall in the air. No streaks of red in the trees, no breeze stirring the leaves. The temperature in these last days of August has been ferociously high, even for Manhattan. Every day dawns steamy, and by nighttime a haze of heat blocks out the moon. Summer will never end — this is what Abby is thinking on one of these sweltering August evenings, a Sunday, as she walks home from the Gourmet Fair grocery with Gideon, who owns the cafe across the street from her apartment and lives around the corner. This summer, she’s thinking, will go on for the rest of my life.