But the dot suddenly emerged through the snow as a full pink figure heading straight for her. As they collided, Samantha slammed the body away. She watched as the pink figure veered off sharply, disappearing into the all-encompassing white.

Samantha continued down the slope and felt she had regained her path. She smiled with renewed confidence. “I just saved my life.”

Samantha walked back into the Little Nell late in the afternoon and took off her goggles for the first time that day.

“How’d it go today?” the doorman asked her.

“Fantastic.” She smiled.

As she approached the elevators, Samantha noticed a flurry of activity in the lobby.

“Did you hear about Judy Tremont?” The athletic mother with the brood of five children was talking to a friend. “Skied right into a tree.”

“It was an accident of course,” the friend immediately reassured the children.

The memory of that pink figure brushing up against her and the insurmountable joy of heaving it away began pounding in Samantha’s head.

Samantha closed her eyes and saw the tiny pink dot transform into a pink-lipsticked face splattered in the snow. The pink Bogner jacket was frosted flat like a cartoon or a dream.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

·CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX·

Charlie

When Charlie started dating Samantha he trained himself to always order first for his dinner companion and wait before mentioning his preference. In fact, the first time Charlie met Samantha’s father for dinner at La Grenouille he made a mental note that the old man not only ordered first for his wife and his daughter before getting to himself, but was never truly engaged and therefore everybody always thought they had a great time with him.

“What’s your pleasure, Francesca?” Charlie asked Frankie as they looked over the menus in a booth at Shun Lee West. They had just been to see an evening performance of The Nutcracker at the City Ballet. The performance was dedicated to Jennifer Rose.

“I don’t know. What do you want?” Frankie smiled at him.

“I want pig’s feet, Francesca.” He took her hand. “But only if they’re raw. How ’bout you?”

She laughed. “Raw feet is good. But I like them a little salty.”

Charlie squeezed her fingers. He enjoyed his evenings with Frankie. There was something about her earnestness that was very grounding for him. Nothing crazy would happen with Frankie.

“I’m going to force you to choose something. Anything.”

“Egg drop soup,” she answered.

“The answer is no,” he replied without a moment’s hesitation. “The next thing I know you’ll want chow mein.”