“God, it’s good to be out,” Gia said. “How much longer are we going to be under house arrest?”

To make the house look empty, Jack had advised Gia to stay inside and out of sight for the long weekend.

“We should be able to loosen up tomorrow.”

She looked at him. “That means things come to a head tonight, I take it?”

“If all goes according to plan.”

“Hey, look!” Vicky said, pointing. “More sailors.”

Sure enough, a trio of young men of various shades—they looked like teenagers, and maybe they were—dressed in bell-bottomed whites and Dixie cup caps strolled their way from the direction of St. Pat’s. As usual, the fleet was in for Memorial Day Weekend and white uniforms abounded.

“They’re cute,” Gia said. “But how do they get their whites so white?”

“Why don’t you ask them?” Jack said.

Vicky put a hand on her out-thrust hip as they passed and said, “Hi-ya, sailor!”

The guys all but fell off the curb laughing, and Jack bit the insides of both cheeks to keep from doing the same. Gia turned scarlet and found something interesting atop the Saks building.

“What?” Vicky said, looking at her mother as the still-chortling sailors moved on.

“Where on earth did you hear that?”

“I saw it on MTV.”

“There you go,” Jack said, finally trusting himself to speak. “The root of the decline of Western civilization, such as it is.”

“Well, young lady,” Gia said, taking her by the hand and leading her across the street, “I think we’re going to monitor your TV habits a little more closely from now on.” She glanced back at Jack. “By the way, where are we going?”

“Let’s try Broadway. Maybe they’ve got a parade there.”

“You know,” Gia said, taking his arm as they walked along, “I love the city on holiday weekends.”

“You mean half-empty?”

She nodded. “It’s like we’ve got the place almost to ourselves.” She stretched out her arms and did a quick turn. “Look at that. I didn’t hit anybody.” She took his arm again. “I feel sorry for all these sailors. Of all times to get a leave in New York—one of the two big weekends a year when almost all the girls have left town for the beaches.”

“I saw them checking you out pretty well as they passed.”

“Don’t be silly. I could be their mother.”

“They weren’t just looking—ogling is more like it. And I can’t say as I blame them, what with those long stems sticking so far out of those shorts.”

“Oh, pshaw.”

“Pshaw? Did you actually say, ‘Pshaw’?”

“Pshaw, and piffle,” Gia said.

But Jack could see she was pleased she’d been ogled, and even more pleased that he’d noticed. But then he was always on watch around the two women in his life.

They came to Broadway. The deco front of the Brill Building gleamed in the sun across the street from them, but no parade flowed between.

Sharing a couple of oversize pretzels from a pushcart, the three of them wandered farther west. Jack slowed as they passed a defunct dance club in the midst of renovation. A sign on the double-doored entry proclaimed it THE FUTURE HOME OF NEW YORK CITY’S MOST EXCLUSIVE NIGHTCLUB—BELGRAVY.