“Yeah.” Margaret frowned. “I’ve seen a bit of it firsthand.” She had already told her friend about her niece and her frustration at not being able to find out more. The bartender and doorman at the Daisy had had no idea who Margaret was inquiring about; the LAPD operator told her to call back when she had something resembling actual information; Itchy Meyer at MGM wouldn’t take her calls. Sheryl Ann said she would think about a way to help, but she hadn’t had any ideas.

Margaret adjusted the AM dial, as if changing the station would have an impact on eradicating the evil it carried.

Former Vice President Richard Nixon, running for governor and participating in a March of Dimes parade, has been caught in the storm riding in the back of a convertible and wearing nothing but a summer suit…

The women laughed, familiar with Nixon’s awkwardness and his run of bad luck.

“Poor Dick,” said Sheryl Ann, switching to a music station and landing on “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” and a cascade of a-weema-wehs. “He has a storm cloud over his head. Like what’s his name in Li’l Abner.”

“Joe Btfsplk.”

“Yeah, him.”

“Speaking of storms, the weather must have followed me and Charlie,” said Margaret.

Days before, back in New York, Margaret had been overjoyed to be home with Lucy and Dwight and taking a break from the frenetic pace of their temporary California life. Even Christmas with two young children felt calm by comparison, though it was a calm interrupted far too soon. Charlie had been explaining to Lucy over breakfast that taxidermists had nothing to do with paying taxes when the phone started ringing.

“I thought you pay them and then the man gives you a stuffed bear,” Lucy said, delighting her father.

“Daddy, Daddy,” said Dwight, coming from the bathroom where Margaret had been brushing his hair. He ran up to his father and hugged him as Charlie tried to reach the ringing phone.

“I’ll get it,” Margaret said.

“Daddy, what’s up?” Dwight asked, performing one of their daily routines.

“What’s up is…your grandma’s going to take you to the Bronx Zoo today!” Charlie said.

“Daddy, what’s down?”

“Stock market’s been going down for a while,” Charlie said. “The Kennedy slide.”

“And what’s—what’s right, Daddy?”

“You’re what’s right, Dwight. You and your sister are what’s right with the world!”

“And Daddy, Daddy, what’s left?” Dwight asked, beaming with pride.

“Only thing that’s left is for me to give you a big hug,” Charlie said.

They did this every morning and it was Charlie’s favorite part of the day.

“Charlie.” Margaret poked her head into the dining nook off the kitchen. “It’s Addington White. He says it’s important.”