“On Park Avenue?” Samantha thought the call was surreal.

“That’s what he said,” Frankie answered.

“What was he doing on the subway in the middle of the night?”

“I really can’t say. He called me when he needed help.”

“Well, thank you for telling me.” Samantha pursed her lips. “Charlie is so self-destructive. Does anyone know?”

“No, I took care of it,” Frankie continued.

“Frankie, I think you should know that my circumstances have obviously changed. Of course I want to do what’s right for Charlie.”

Frankie sat back in her chair. “I see.”

“Would you mind staying with him till I get there? I’ll be home to tell him later this morning. It was very kind of you to make the effort and call me here. I really appreciate it. Good-bye.”

“Good-bye.” Frankie hung up and was momentarily unable to go back to Charlie in the examining room.

Frankie began to line up the empirical data. For some reason, she had remet Samantha Acton, and now she was bringing Charlie home so Samantha could tell him how their circumstances had changed. The one clear conclusion Frankie could draw was that for all her achievements, she had become an aide-de-camp to this court. But what was unclear to Frankie was why it meant so much to her to land this completely unenviable role.

Frankie asked her young associate to cover for her at the hospital, and brought Charlie home to Fifth Avenue.

“Where’s Samantha?” he asked when they got to the apartment.

“She told me she wants you to sleep. She didn’t want to disturb you.”

“She’s not much of a nurse. She must be out shopping. She likes to buy me things whenever I’m sick.”

“That’s probably it.” Frankie walked Charlie into his bedroom. “Get some sleep. I’ll be in the living room till she comes.”

“Francesca, you don’t have to do this for me.”

“You’re my patient.”

Charlie looked up. “Do you always make house calls?”

Frankie smiled. “Only for Adrienne Strong-Rodman and people I truly admire.”

“I love it when you’re mean.”

“Go to bed.” She kissed his forehead and left the room.

Frankie sat in the living room and watched Central Park as the morning life of the city found its inimitable pace.

At 11 a.m. the door swung open and Samantha, still in her Supremes gown, walked in.

“Frankie, thank God you’re here.” She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror. “I can’t believe what I look like. I’m like a teenager who’s sneaking back into the dorm after staying out all night. Where’s Charlie?”

“He’s inside sleeping. I think he will be fine.”

Samantha embraced her. “Thank you, Frankie. Charlie and I are both so lucky to have found you again.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

·CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE·

Clarice