Lu nodded. “He asked if he could go to my place in the country. ‘Just for a couple of days, Lu,’ he said. ‘That's all.’ I told him he could have the place with my blessing. Hell, I wanted that show so badly, I would have offered him a kidney if he'd said he needed it.” She took another nut out of the bowl, cracked it, and stuffed another fig. “I'll never understand what was going through his mind that weekend, why he did what he did. Bobby was careless, but he wasn't cruel. He'd never deliberately hurt Rose before. Although I had the feeling in those last few months that he was angry with her about something …” She trailed off and looked down at her hands. After a second she looked up again. “I'll always wonder if I should have seen it coming. If I hadn't wanted the role in his show so badly, I think I might have.”

Chapter 33 - New York 1974

ROSE SAT AT her desk, trying to compose a letter that would beg for money without sounding like begging. “Rose,” said Bobby's voice behind her. But he couldn't be home this early. He was supposed to go to her mother's house in the country to work over the weekend, but he wasn't leaving until five. She hadn't even packed his bag yet. So unless he wasn't feeling well… She whirled around.

“Are you all right?” she demanded. “Are you having pains? Do you have your pills?”

“Forget the damn pills!” he said. “I need to …” He stopped and started again. “We have to talk.”

And of course she should have known what was coming. But after all the years of fearing this moment, and anticipating it, when it actually arrived, she didn't see it. “Are you leaving early?” she asked him. “I'll go get your suitcase.” And she started for the door.

“Rose!” he called her back. “I have to tell you … I want to …Oh, Christ, there's no good way to do this. I'm in love, Rose. I'm in love with Sandy.”

There was a wind roaring in Rose's ears. For a second she couldn't imagine who he was talking about. Then she forced herself to focus. Sandy. Carrie's nanny. Bobby was saying he was in love with a quiet little girl with mousy brown hair that was usually pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes were …blue? Or were they brown? She'd worked for them for two years and Rose couldn't remember the color of her eyes.

“I'm in love with Sandy,” Bobby repeated stupidly.

It was stupid because he couldn't be in love with a girl whose eyes you couldn't remember. “She isn't even pretty!” Rose blurted out.

It was the wrong thing to say—not that there was any right thing to say at this moment. Bobby looked like she'd just defiled a loved one's grave. “Sandy is sweet and good and loyal—”

“So is a golden retriever.”