“But—” She thought it was ridiculous to make the rules of their life together about his future divorce.

He kissed her. “I’ll be right back.”

When Samantha got out at the Sherry, she didn’t stop to watch Barry’s car pull away. She knew she had him as long as she never seemed to really need him. She also knew that by the end of the summer she’d make their moving in together seem like his idea.

Samantha smiled broadly at her new doorman. “Good evening.”

Being with Barry had made her feel she was no longer going around in circles. She had been a perfectly crafted set piece. But now she was a player.

“It’s crazy. I think the world is falling apart, and for some reason I am finally getting it together,” Samantha spoke rapidly to her therapist.

“Then I assume things are going well.” The therapist leaned forward.

“I think so. I mean, everything’s temporarily up in the air and we’ve got to deal with his kids and his wife and do all that stuff right. But I know I made the right choice, even if Charlie does call me crying all the time.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Charlie is a very decent man. But that’s not love, that’s, I don’t know—I guess doing the right thing, being like my mother, afraid to feel any passion or something. I mean, in some way I blame Charlie for my never really accomplishing anything.”

“You feel he got in the way?”

“Charlie’s just too accommodating. He was so eager to please me that I forgot I needed to please myself.”

“And Barry is different?”

“Oh, Barry, yes! Want to hear something funny?”

“Sure.”

“Barry is a Republican.”

“What’s so funny about that?”

“No one in the movie business is a Republican.”

“Well, Ronald Reagan.”

“Yes, and Arnold Schwarzenegger and Rupert Murdoch. I mean Barry’s pro-choice and pro-gay, but he also says only an asshole would wait for the United Nations’ permission before we bomb a country that’s against us.”

“And Charlie wouldn’t say that?”

“Oh my God no! Charlie, in his heart, believes in love thy neighbor, just like my mother. In fact, if Charlie had been born rich and a woman, he would be my mother.” Samantha took a sip of coffee. “All I know is I was drowning. Now I know what I want.”

“And what is it that you want?”

“I want to get on with my life with Barry. I want us to move in together, and I hope to get married. I even thought the other day maybe we would adopt some kids from Rwanda or China. Now I sound like my mother.”

“You’ve wanted a child for a long time.”