“And I was thinking maybe I’d begin a new project instead of that coffee-table book. Maybe it would have to do with that church in Bedford-Stuyvesant. Really create a community center there, bring in some great artists. I’m sure I could get Julian Schnabel and Eric Fischl involved. Also I’d like to redecorate Barry’s studios in New Jersey. I just…” Her voice trailed off.

“What is it?’

“Remember Judy Tremont?”

“Of course,” the therapist said quickly.

“Yumbo, right?” Samantha laughed. “Well, she once said that the Upper East Side is like a happy village. And I think everyone in that village is so happy getting to the next stop, the next apartment, the next school, the next benefit, the next purse that I feel sort of disoriented because for once in my life I don’t want to get anywhere. I think I might be the only person who feels contented with the status quo. And that’s I guess the thing that drives me so crazy about Charlie. I feel like he just wants to pull me back down into this world of tired dinner parties and being on an endless treadmill to the next get.”

“What’s a get?”

“Oh. That’s what Barry calls the next thing you gotta get.” She smiled at the recollection. “I wish I didn’t have to see Charlie.”

“Do you?” the therapist asked.

Samantha hadn’t realized that almost a year had gone by since September 11 when she agreed to meet Charlie for lunch at Three Guys restaurant on Seventy-fifth and Madison. During their marriage, Charlie would go to Three Guys every Sunday for blueberry pancakes and sausage and afterward bring Samantha an egg white omelet with mozzarella and bacon “to go.” She always joked that the mozzarella and bacon made up for her desperately missing the yolk.

“You look good.” Charlie smiled as he cut into his pancakes while Samantha sat with a cup of coffee.

“You sure I can’t get you an omelet?”

“No, no. Coffee’s fine.”

“Thanks for meeting me.” He nodded awkwardly.

“How are things?”

“How are things? How are things?” Charlie muttered twice. “Well, there was a flurry of activity about Serena Curtis, who died from a reaction to a chemical peel at Alice Ringer’s office.”

“Yes, I heard about that.”

“But that seems to have died down. And there’s a new laser peel that claims to offer the benefits of a mini face-lift.”

“Maybe I should try it.”

“You don’t need it.” Charlie looked at her. “What else can I tell you? I’m teaching again this fall.”

“That’s good, you like that.”

“And I’ve seen Jil.” His mouth was going dry.

“I heard he’s in love.” Samantha poured cream into her still-untouched coffee.

“Really? He didn’t tell me. Is it with Francesca Weissman?” Charlie asked.