Justine’s father had a passion for dinner parties. He and Behida hosted them all the time. There was always loud talk over the table and lots of wine flowing, and Justine’s small father would hold forth one paragraph at a time, pointing the tip of his tongue out of his mouth to reset, then launch on another paragraph, expounding on French film, or maybe Swedish or Finnish film. He owned a small art house cinema, and film was the great passion of his life. Justine was sat beside Joseph at the dinner. They talked about photography, mostly. He was a photographer as well as a writer. He was earnest and respectful. That was when he asked for her mailing address, which she found quaint. And two days later the postcard arrived, with the offer to listen.

A few weeks after the disaster at Hal’s mother’s house, Justine found the postcard at the bottom of her bag, covered in crumbs. She called Joseph and they went out for lunch, took a subway up to MoMA, drifted past some artwork, walked sixty blocks down to the Lower East Side and toured the Tenement Museum, then had falafel for dinner on a bench. The date lasted eight hours. Joseph was deeply interested in Justine. She found herself opening up to him, telling him all about Elliot, the sadness she felt at the fading of that big relationship, the confusion of thinking she had been in love with Hal and then realizing she had been mistaken. She talked about her work, how grateful she was to get fashion jobs, even as she wondered if she should be doing more political work. Joseph listened as no one had ever listened to her before. Often, his eyes were trained on the ground as she spoke, as if he were visualizing her words, and he nodded slowly. Days later, when he showed her his work on his computer, she was relieved and intimidated. He was really good. He shot still lifes of fruit, vases, sometimes a dead bird—classic themes with an eerie quality. Shot on black-and-white film, the images were overexposed, silvery; the presence of dead animals and skulls hinted at a gothic core. A few days later, she went to his apartment. That’s where Justine met Joseph’s massive cat, Sweeney, and spent some quality time on the floor.

Soon, the three-month lease with Elliot was up. They both sobbed, and they were both relieved. Elliot moved in with his brother temporarily and Justine walked around Little Italy till she found a man sweeping outside a building. She asked him if he knew of any apartments around there; he took a good look at her, showed her a place upstairs, and she wrote out a check.