Maria thought about raising the subject herself, but quickly decided against it. Like Dave, she wanted to shield the president from care, not give him additional burdens. She felt sure this was the right decision, though she could not help feeling sorry, and even hurt, that she was not able to talk to him about something so important.

She had feared that sex might be painful after the procedure. However, when Dave had asked her to go to the residence last night, she had been so reluctant to decline the invitation that she had decided to take the risk; and it had been fine—wonderful, in fact.

“I’d better move,” the president said. “I’m going to church this morning.”

He was about to get up when the bedside phone rang. He picked it up. “Good morning, Mac,” he said.

Maria guessed he was talking to McGeorge Bundy, the national security adviser. She jumped out of bed and went to the bathroom.

Kennedy often took calls in bed in the morning. Maria assumed that the people who phoned either did not know or did not care whether he had company. She saved the president embarrassment by making herself scarce during such conversations, just in case they were top secret.

She peeped out of the door in time to see him hang up the phone. “Great news!” he said. “Moscow Radio announced that Khrushchev is dismantling the Cuban missiles and sending them back to the USSR.”

Maria had to restrain herself from shouting for joy. It was over!

“I feel like a new man,” said the president.

She threw her arms around him and kissed him. “You saved the world, Johnny,” she said.

He looked reflective. After a minute he said: “Yeah, I guess I did.”

• • •

Tanya was standing on her balcony, leaning on the wrought-iron parapet, breathing deeply of the damp Havana morning air, when Paz’s Buick pulled up below, completely blocking the narrow street. He jumped out of the car, looked up, saw her, and yelled: “You betrayed me!”

“What?” She was astonished. “How?”

“You know.”

He was a passionate and mercurial character, but she had never seen him this angry, and she was glad he had not come up the stairs to the apartment. However, she was baffled as to the reason for his rage. “I’ve told no secrets, and I haven’t slept with another man,” she said. “So I’m sure I haven’t betrayed you.”

“Then why are they dismantling the missile launchers?”

“Are they?” If that was so, the crisis was over. “Are you sure?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

“I’m not pretending anything. But if it’s true, we’re saved.” Out of the corner of her eye she noticed neighbors opening windows and doors, to watch the row with unabashed curiosity. She ignored them. “Why are you angry?”

“Because Khrushchev made a deal with the yanquis—and never even discussed it with Castro!”

The neighbors made disapproving noises.

“Of course I didn’t know,” she said with annoyance. “Do you imagine Khrushchev talks to me about such things?”