“Yes, it’s a good time.”

I can’t remember the reason for those first calls: activity suggestions, maybe directions to the Children’s Museum, it didn’t matter. The conversations were brief and, individually, no big deal. For weeks I’d wanted to be this kind of girlfriend to Anna Brody—her confidante, advice giver, favorite friend—and how unfortunate that when she finally showed an interest, I no longer had the time. Still, it wasn’t until the fourth call that day that I might have sounded impatient with her.

“Me again,” Anna said. “Is it still a good time?”

“Yes. Well, actually, I’m kind of busy . . .”

In the background, I could hear Sophie crying.

“Well, then,” Anna said quickly, “I was just wondering if your boys could come over for a playdate.”

“Ask Tim. That’s his domain.”

“I thought I should ask you first.”

“No need. Just give him a call.”

“Oh,” she said after an odd pause, “I just didn’t want you to feel left out.”

“Don’t worry about me feeling left out.” Truthfully, for me, feeling left out was a new and welcome feeling. Then I noticed Bruno standing in my office doorway, looking concerned.

“I have to go,” I said to Anna.

I hung up the phone and laughed, but not for funny reasons.

“Kate, I couldn’t help overhearing . . .”

“What?”

“Your mention of feeling left out.”

“Oh, please,” I said. “Don’t worry, it’s not about work. It’s this new mother in our neighborhood. She’s a strange one. She wants permission to call my husband to arrange a playdate . . .”

“Maybe she’s just sensitive to your situation.”

“What situation? That I get to have a career? Is it terrible of me to enjoy working? Because I love coming here. I love dressing up. I even love the parts of my job I’m not supposed to enjoy. The crowded ride on the subway. Even the lack of mission . . .”

“Do you think we suffer from a lack of mission?”

“Well, yes, I did. Up until yesterday I didn’t quite know what we’re doing here. And even that was okay. I trust you, but I was beginning to doubt Louis. Now that we’re about to have actual money to give away, I admit it, I’m giddy! About all that we can do. And that we get to do it together. But mostly, what I’m saying is that for one day my friend Anna should have real people’s problems.”

I explained about the staff, the eighteen-room house, the rich, handsome husband.

Noticing the clock, I went to the hall closet and slipped on my coat. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter, Bruno, because you and I . . .”

“Yes?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “We’re about to change the world.”

TIM

KATE HAD GONE TO WORK EARLY, THE BOYS WERE GRUMPY, AND I WAS IN A BAD WAY when the dreaded phone call came from my mentor, Dr. Jamison Lamson of St. Bernard’s College in Queens.

“Where is it?” he said. Meaning: my dissertation.