Her pregnancy the next year had raised another issue.

They were happy in the apartment on Park. When they married, Maggie had done a little redecoration, and they’d had fun buying some new furniture together. The third year of their marriage, after he’d been awarded a handsome bonus, his Christmas present to her had been the money to install a new kitchen. That had been a big deal.

Maggie had made one other small improvement to the apartment. She’d opened a closet one day and found in there a carefully wrapped parcel that looked like a picture of some kind. Asked what it was, Gorham had confessed to his shame that it was the only gift he’d failed to deliver for Charlie, after his father’s death. “And so much time has passed now that I’m embarrassed to give it to the rightful owner,” he said.

“Can I see what it is?” she’d asked.

“I suppose so.”

“My God, Gorham,” Maggie exclaimed when she’d unwrapped the parcel, “it’s a Robert Motherwell drawing. This thing is really valuable.”

“I hardly know what to do about it,” he admitted.

“Well, I’m putting it on the wall until you make up your mind.” And there, adding a special elegance to their living room, it had remained ever since.

Now they were starting a family, however, they’d have to consider moving to a larger place. They could manage in the six-room with one child, who would have the second bedroom, but if another child came along, then they’d really need more space. They liked the building, so they decided to wait for a while to see if a larger apartment became available. With their two salaries, they could certainly finance a mortgage and the higher maintenance.

Taken all together, therefore, Gorham and Maggie had a very happy marriage. Only one thing had suffered, and they both felt it. Their friends. How long was it now since they’d had Maggie’s brother come to supper? Three months at least. It was nobody’s fault, there just never seemed to be any time. And what about Juan? They hadn’t seen him for more than a year.

What made it worse was that Juan was having a bad time. Mayor Koch had done well by the city below Ninety-sixth Street, but not so well for the districts like Harlem, El Barrio and the South Bronx. Some people reckoned he didn’t care that much. Others pointed out that, when the problems were so huge, even Koch couldn’t do everything at once. Either way, Juan had been able to make very little progress. “Things in El Barrio are getting steadily worse, not better,” he’d told them. He was so discouraged that he was thinking of taking a job in one of the big utilities, where at least he could use his business skills.

As soon as the baby was born, Gorham promised himself, he’d make it an occasion to call Juan and have him and Janet to supper.