“I think I like you a lot better without Archie monopolizing your brain.”

“I think I like me better, too.”

We waited, reading magazines, checking e-mail, pacing until after noon. There was still no word on Momma. I went to the desk to ask.

“Let me check,” the attendant said and made a phone call. “Last name of the patient?”

“Jensen. Katherine Jensen.”

She repeated Momma’s name into the phone and was told to wait. A few minutes later she had our answer.

“They just took her in. They had an emergency and had to take the OR for that. So, they’re a little behind. Don’t worry. She’ll be fine.”

I wondered how many times a day she said, Don’t worry, she’ll be fine.

“Thanks.” I went back to Leslie. “They just took her in. Some emergency caused a slowdown. Anyway, how long is this supposed to take?”

“Less than an hour. Maybe a little longer.”

I looked at my watch. It was close to one.

“You want lunch?” I said.

“Sure. Let’s walk over to Melfi’s. New place. Food looks amazing.”

“Let’s go.”

Melfi’s had the feel of a clubby but super hip Italian trattoria that welcomed all comers. It was a neighborhood place but also a destination. The food was wonderful. Their wide variety of pasta was all made in house. But Leslie and I were feeling like pizza. We ordered a Mrs. Melfi’s Pie to share and salads with Italian dressing.

“Iced tea is fine for me,” I said when our waiter was ready to take our drink orders.

“Me, too,” Leslie said.

“Very good,” our waiter said and left.

“What do you think the odds are that Momma will wake up and be pissed that we’re not there?” I said.

“We can say we went out to get her something to eat,” Leslie said. “That will make her happy.”

“Great idea. Let’s take her something,” I said. “So, Leslie, what are you going to do about Char?”

She sighed a huge sigh and looked at me with so much sadness.

“I’m going to let her open her show, send her a big bouquet of flowers, and pray she does great. And in a few weeks, I’ll call her and tell her that I think it’s best if we dissolve our marriage and go our separate ways. That’s my plan.”

“I sort of figured that’s where you were headed. I mean, divorce is messy, but you’ve got to settle things so you can move on.”

“Exactly. And let me tell you, she doesn’t want to be burdened with a wife, or a wife in name only. She needs to spread her wings and fly.”

“So do you,” I said.