They walked quickly the block to the Capitol Tea Room, where Harry often ate his lunch. He exchanged greetings with several of the patrons and servers as they walked in, then helped Anne off with her coat, appreciating again the slim curves of her body. Today she wore a russet-brown wool skirt and a creamy sweater. He hung up their coats and hats, and then guided her to a vacant booth toward the back. It was a younger crowd this time of day on Saturday, and he imagined every pair of eyes in the joint following her, the boys with desire, girls with envy. When they sat down across from each other in the booth, he was glad to see that her eyes did not wander from his; he couldn’t resist reaching out to rest his hand over hers on the table. He wished they were alone.

After they had finished lunch—burgers, fries, and Cokes—they walked out arm in arm and determined (at his suggestion) that they would go to a movie.

More than once during lunch he’d lost the train of conversation in the curl of her hair, the curve of her ear, the quiver of her smile. She made him feel like a kid again, awkward and unsure, so he figured he might as well take her to the movies, where he’d perfected the yawn-and-stretch move about twenty-five years earlier. Feeling so jittery was ridiculous for a man his age; he imagined that once he really kissed her—no more of this timid fooling around—he would be restored to his old, jaded self again. This peculiar effervescence that he felt when he was near her was almost unbearable; he hadn’t felt such a thing in decades.

He didn’t figure it could last long, at his age.

But he half hoped it would.

“Do you know what’s playing?” she asked, holding her hat against the wind as they hurried along.

He laughed, feeling caught in his adolescent plan. “No,” he admitted. “But we can try the Palace or the Beacon, there’s bound to be something good.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I was just wondering. Let’s go to the Palace.”

“That’s fine with me,” Harry said. Just then, he felt her steps slow, and her weight dragged at his elbow. He turned toward her.

“Look,” she breathed.

What had caused her to slow her steps was a display in the window of Thomas Jewelers. A poster showed a handsome young man preening in a suit; behind him were a plane, a tank, a ship with rows of indistinct soldiers and sailors disembarking. In the lower corner was a pretty young woman with an expectant look on her face. JUST GET HOME? barked the caption. GIVE HER A RING TO SHOW HER YOU NEVER WAVERED! In front of the poster were laid out more than two dozen sparkling diamond rings on an artistically draped American flag.