“Why don’t we go to Palm Beach this year?” Albert said one night after Trina, the night housekeeper, had cleared away dinner.

Judy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Rich Jewish girls from Great Neck who moved to Manhattan and sent their children to Temple Emanuel Nursery School went to Palm Beach.

“That’s where Serena Bernstein goes. That’s where Natalia Zeckendorf goes. We can’t do that!” Judy gasped.

“But it makes a lot of sense, dear. Just think about it. Palm Beach is the new Southampton. And it’s not the right year to leave the country.” Albert looked at his wife.

After a minute Judy revised her thinking. Actually Palm Beach was coming back. Anyone with serious money and a private plane had at least four homes now—city, country, summer, and winter. The winter choice for the A-list snowbirds was between sandy beaches in the south or powdery slopes in the west. Since their house in Aspen wouldn’t be ready for at least another year, Albert was right. Given the world, Palm Beach made sense this year.

“Absolutely. Palm Beach. We can stay at The Breakers. And if we have to fly commercial, it’s just two and a half hours.” She took his hand.

“I think we can hitch a ride with Paul Rodman on their plane.” Albert looked up for his wife’s approval.

Judy was not overwhelmingly sexual but she felt a tingling in her toes. “I love you,” she said as she kissed him on the cheek. A private plane made dealing with the entire entourage—children, nannies, suitcases—plus her security anxiety just so much easier.

Since 9/11 Judy had made a few obvious changes in her life. First of all she never let her nannies take her children in taxis anymore. Any turbaned driver talking on a cell phone could be a terrorist. She kept a supply of iodine pills in her home plus gas masks for the entire family and their pets. Every day she carried a Fendi emergency kit in her purse neatly packed with Cipro and folding flat shoes. In Judy’s personal safe she kept $50,000 in cash just in case they had to make a quick getaway. And perhaps the biggest change was she always wore her good jewelry in the event she’d have to trade it for easy passage off Manhattan.

“The Rodmans’ plane. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. Albert, you are a genius!” She kissed him again.

“I’m so glad you agree, honey.” He patted her knee and got up to go to his study.

On her first day at The Breakers Judy made an appointment for an hour-and-a-half European facial followed by a full-body wrap. Her sons had gone to Miami ostensibly to play tennis and Albert had taken the girls to the croquet court. He could happily spend hours demonstrating for them and other guests his idiosyncratic sport.

Walking through the lobby with its ornate gold vaulted ceiling reminiscent of a Medici villa, Judy had a sense of well-being she had missed all fall. As she stopped to study a pair of pink ostrich sandals in the window of Giorgio’s lobby shop, Judy felt the tension literally slipping out of her body. She whistled along to the Magic Flute Muzak as she walked through the corridor to the spa.