“I'm going to marry Bobby Manning tomorrow at City Hall,” she said.

“Why him, Rose?” Her mother was almost crying now. “You could have any man you want.”

“I am going to wear a street dress, and there won't be a Mass, or a wedding party, or a veil and a gown. And it won't matter. Bobby and I love each other. And we are going to be happy for the rest of our lives.”

Chapter 27 - New York 2008

DARKNESS DESCENDED OUTSIDE George's living room, now that it was lit only by the Victorian streetlight. George polished off his drink and said, “So Bobby and Rose got married. They moved into a huge apartment on Fifth Avenue, and thanks to Rose they became the high-glam New York power couple of the sixties and early seventies. Anyone who was doing anything important in New York knew them. I remember one party Rose threw when the guest list included Walter Cronkite, Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, Norman Mailer, Lennie Bernstein, Kitty Carlisle Hart, and Gloria Steinem. Hell, the mayor came to their house.”

“But was my mother happy? Because that wasn't the message I got when I was a kid.”

“That I don't know about.” George shrugged. “I wasn't close to Rose; no one really was. Whatever she felt she kept to herself during those years.”

“And my father?”

George's face lit up. “Ah, Bobby. I wish you'd known your father.”

“You liked him.”

“I admired the hell out of him. He was a giant, but he never acted like it. The man had nothing but hits, back to back, but he'd always say, ‘Ain't I a lucky guy? I'm working on Broadway!’ like he just couldn't believe it.” George paused, and Carrie could tell he was being careful. “Rose was a great woman—everyone says so. But your dad wasn't exactly chopped liver, baby.”

“But was he happy being married to mother?”

“Bobby was happy when he was working, and he worked most of the time.” George stood up. “I need to take the girls out for a potty break.” He pointed to the three dogs now lined up in front of the door. “Want to come with?” Carrie nodded and the next few minutes were spent putting tiny leashes—all heavily decorated with rhinestones—on the Yorkies, and walking them to the elevator.

“Do you know why my mother and Lu stopped speaking to each other?” Carrie asked when they were down on Fifty-seventh Street.

George shook his head. “It was weird. And I always thought whatever went on between them was the reason why Lu retired.”

“Did you ask her about it?”