Across the room, Marah found something. Kate could tell by the sudden quiet. She jumped up and went over to the chair by the fire-place.

Johnny’s chair.

Don’t think about that, she told herself. He’d be back any day to sit there again and read the paper after work.

She bent down and picked up her curious daughter, who looked up at her through huge, bright brown eyes and started to babble. Kate couldn’t help smiling at how earnestly Marah was trying to communicate, and as always, her daughter’s obvious joy lifted her spirits. “Hey, Munchkin what have you got there?” She carried her back toward the sofa, turning off the TV as she passed it. Enough was enough. She turned on the radio instead. It was tuned to an oldies channel, which always made her shake her head. To her mind the seventies weren’t that distant. The Eagles were singing “Desperado.”

Kate let the music take her back to an easier time. Holding her daughter close, she danced in the living room, singing along. Marah giggled and bounced in her arms, which made Kate laugh for the first time in days. She kissed her daughter’s plump cheek, nuzzled her velvety neck, and tickled her until she screamed happily.

They were having so much fun Kate didn’t register instantly that the phone was ringing. When she did hear it, she ran for the radio, turned it down, and answered.

“Mrs. John Ryan?” The connection was scratchy. Clearly long-distance. Only in dire need.

She froze, tightened her hold on Marah, who squirmed in her arms. “This is she.”

“This is Lenny Golliher. I’m a friend of your husband’s. I’m over here in Baghdad with him. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Mrs. Ryan, there was a bombing yesterday . . .”

The maître d’ showed Edna to her regular table, and Tully followed along behind, trying not to gape at all the power brokers and celebrities who were here today for lunch. Clearly 21 was one of the places to be seen in Manhattan. Edna stopped at nearly every table to say hi to someone and she introduced them all to Tully, saying, “Here’s a girl you should keep your eye on.”

By the time they took their seats, Tully felt as if she were floating. She couldn’t wait to call Kate and tell her she’d met John Kennedy, Jr.

She knew the value of what had just happened. Edna had just given her the gift of recognition. “Why me?” she asked when their waiter left.

Edna lit up her cigarette and leaned back. Nodding at someone across the room, she seemed not to have heard the question. Tully was about to ask it again when Edna said quietly, “You remind me of me. That surprises you, I see.”

“Flatters me.”