In the next moment they were all on their feet, embracing, including Fitz, who’d been sitting in the sole chair in the room, grinning woozily over the rim of his own gin and tonic. Even Corey, who was propped up on the counter by the sink, digging into a bag of potato chips, seemed animated—this was new, this was different, and it had the distinct flavor of Mexico.

Ken—he looked better than ever, in a pair of tight white chinos and a navy shirt open at the neck so you could see the gold cross he’d taken to wearing in Mexico, in memoriam, he said, of a dead religion—squeezed her so hard he took the breath out of her. “Did you hear the news?” he chimed, leaning back from her as if they were dancing and he was about to execute a double dip and twirl her under one arm.

“News?” she repeated, gazing round at the grinning faces, everybody grinning, even Corey.

“We’re celebrating tonight,” Ken said. “We’re all going out, my treat.”

“Yay!” Corey crowed, jumping down from the counter. “Pizza. Let’s go for pizza!”

“What is it?” she asked. “What are you talking about? Don’t keep me in suspense—”

“It’s Tim,” Ken said, but before he could say more, Fanchon slipped an arm around her waist and said, “Tim has a new place, a new house—for us all!”

A new house? She was trying to get a grasp on the news, ready to commit—more than ready—and trying to fight back a wave of anxiety, because would Fitz allow it, would Fitz see how untenable their life was the way it was presently construed, even if they were to go ahead and take their things out of storage and move into the old lady’s apartment? Would he see how much she needed this, needed Ken and Fanchon and Alice, needed Tim—and that he himself needed them too? “Where?” she asked. “Where is it?”

Nobody answered her, but she could feel their spirits soaring.

“Will it be—?” And here she looked to Fitz, who just smiled and lifted his glass to her. She looked round her giddily, everybody smiling, smiling, as if she were a child all over again and this were her birthday and the cake just about to be brought in, aglow with candles. “I mean, will it be big enough—I mean, for all of us?”

Ken shrugged, gave her his secret look that this time was meant to be public and publically appreciated. “It’s a little place,” he said. “Only sixty-four rooms.”