“Lu came to New Haven when she could, but she didn't make it every Sunday like Mama wanted—not even close. And I'm not going to tell you she spent a lot of time with Rose during those years, because she didn't. But Mama was to blame for part of that. She never would take Rose to New York to see Lu. She didn't like show business, and that was Lu's life. Mama said she didn't want the baby exposed to it. She wouldn't even go to the Shubert Theater in New Haven when one of Lu's shows was trying out before it went to New York. Lu had to come to Mama's house—that was how Mama saw it. Lu never said a word about any of it; she just kept on paying the freight.” Paulie pulled off his dark glasses. The sun had set and the sky was an eerie yellow-gray blending into the gray ocean. Soon it would be dark and the stars would come out. “Things went along like that until Rose was thirteen,” Uncle Paulie said. “Then Mama died. And Rose had to go live with Lu.”

Carrie pictured a bereaved thirteen-year-old girl showing up on the doorstep of the woman who hadn't wanted her. “That must have been rough,” she said. “Poor Mother.”

“I don't think it was easy for either of them,” said Uncle Paulie. “But I wasn't there.”

“What have you heard?”

“You know, there is one person who could tell you …”

“Uncle Paulie, I can't call my grandmother.”

“I know. You gotta be a good daughter.” He did another of his mournful, reproachful sighs. The man could lay on a hell of a guilt trip. “If I think of anyone else who could help you, I'll let you know,” he said.

Uncle Paulie walked Carrie to the parking lot. He helped her into her car as if she were made of fine porcelain, and kissed her hand. Chivalry is alive and well and living in my family, Carrie thought as she started the car. Then she realized how good the words my family felt. And there was one person in the whole world she wanted to—had to—tell about it. Well, two people. Zoe, of course, because Zoe would be waiting by the phone. But even more than Zoe, she wanted to tell Howie. Because he would get it, totally and completely. The way he always had gotten everything. Before she'd let him go. For his own good.

She turned out of the driveway of Seaview Manor, formerly known as the Villa Veneto, and began the drive back to Manhattan from New Haven, making the journey her grandmother had made so many years ago. Howie would get the symbolism of that too.