“Oh, Albert.” Judy took her husband’s arm. “The girls love your reading. They went absolutely nuts for Bleak House.”

“Good for you! My girls would think Bleak House was a reality show on MTV.” Charlie kissed both of Judy’s cheeks. “Wonderful being with you.”

Judy leaned in to kiss Samantha while the cigarette was still in her mouth. “So I’ll tell Adrienne Rodman we’re on for her party.”

“Oh yes.” Samantha took another puff. “Absolutely.”

“Darling, careful with your hair.” Albert touched his wife’s shoulders before her blunt cut went up in smoke.

“Oh Albert, you really need to meditate!” She swatted his hand and they walked out toward the lobby.

“I liked him. He’s a decent man. But she never stops.” Charlie picked up a handful of nuts after the Tremonts left.

Samantha puffed her cigarette. “At least she’s lively.”

“Lively? She’s a reason to live alone on a mountaintop in Tibet.”

“I bet she becomes your patient.” She blew her smoke teasingly toward him.

“Darling, you really shouldn’t be smoking in here,” Charlie immediately changed the subject.

“Why not?”

“Because if you don’t take care of yourself the Judy Tremonts will take over your world.”

“Stop it, Charlie, I sort of like her.”

“What?” Charlie almost coughed out a cashew.

“She’s amusing. She believes our lives have a purpose.”

“She’s ridiculous.”

“Why? Because she said I’m an artist?”

“Honey, she just wants a dinner invitation.”

“At least she wants something.”

“Did you catch the nail polish?”

“You’ve become a terrible snob, Charlie.” She began to take another drag.

The waiter approached them. “Madame, there’s no smoking permitted anywhere in the building. Can I ask you to step outside?”

“No, you can’t!” Samantha got up and began to walk out of the room. Charlie dutifully paid the bill and followed her.

“Darling.” Samantha turned to him while the light reflected in her blue almond-shaped eyes. “I’m going to raid the newsstand. I feel like reading something a little lighter than The Last of the Mohicans tonight. Want to come?”

“No thanks.” Charlie put his hand on her cheek. “I think I’ll take a breath of fresh air and meet you upstairs.”

Charlie watched her as she walked down the steps. She was wearing five-inch heels and tight white linen pants with her panty line invitingly peeking through. If she hadn’t been his wife he would have spent his entire vacation trying to meet her.

When Samantha was finally out of sight, Charlie headed toward the oceanfront. Having been raised in the landlocked heartland, Charlie had had a long romance with the sea. Charlie had no idea how long he stayed on the veranda overlooking the ocean that night. As the whitecaps of the waves hit against the cement, he kept remembering the faces of the people he treated in the emergency room after 9/11. Charlie also had a secret. He resented that the Paul Rodmans of the world were not affected by 9/11. The captains of industry, the men with yachts and private planes, were mostly not in their offices at 8:57 when those planes hit. So it was the workers, the elevator men, the bond traders, the caterers, whose faces and hands Charlie tried to save. He never touched a man like Paul Rodman that day and Charlie couldn’t forget it. But he would never tell his wife or his mother-in-law. It just was something he remembered as he watched the waves come in.