Page 39 of The New Couple in 5B

The name is familiar; it probably popped up a couple of times on my initial search for information. “That would be amazing,” I say. “There’s nothing like a living source.”

The spine is loose and the pages whispery thin. Flipping through I see blueprints and line drawings, that it’s arranged by neighborhood. It reminds me that I am on well-trod ground. There are lots of books about New York buildings and their colorful histories. A whisper of self-doubt.Isthere a story here? Something that hasn’t been told?

“I’ll have Andy arrange a lunch.”

“Your trusty assistant. That’s very posh of you, dear Max. Have your people call my people.”

“That’s how I roll now.SeniorEditor.” He presses out both lapels of his nicely tailored jacket. He so looks the part of fancy New York publishing star with his tortoiseshell glasses, and clean-shaven face, his carefully styled hair.

He’s in line for executive editor of his imprint now that his boss has moved up the ladder. He’ll get it; I have no doubt. He’s young but great at his job, and it does seem like things always go his way.

“So—what are you going to do?” asks Max as we fork fight for the last bit of tiramisu. He loses. “Are you going home to confront your weird doorman?”

“No,” I say, tapping my phone for the time. “I’m going to meet Dana.”

A disapproving frown wrinkles his brow. “Uh—is that a good idea?”

No. Probably not. But I still have her voice ringing in my head. Now there’s this strange event of Abi not putting the box in the trunk, and to be honest, my inner divining rod is vibrating. Something’s going on, and what true-crime writer isn’t going to chase that down? Meanwhile, whatdoesDana know about my husband? Something from their past? Something about the apartment?

“Well,” says Max when I don’t answer. He takes the napkin from his lap and folds it neatly, placing it on the table. “You’re not going alone.”

“Don’t you have a job?”

“No,” he says. “I work in publishing. I’m going home to edit for the rest of the day.”

He puts air quotes around the wordedit.

“Ah, I see how it goes.”

He picks up the tab, and I thank him for lunch. I don’t protest as he shoulders his bag, holds the door for me and we head out to hail a cab. It will be good to have some company, especially someone as steady as Max, someone with both feet planted firmly in the real world.

Before too long we’re headed uptown to the address Dana texted.

Again, I consider and decide against calling Chad. He doesn’t need the distraction. But maybe the truth is I don’t want him to talk me out of it. And I have Dana’s warning in my head.

Max is texting on his phone as the driver pulls onto the West Side Highway and I watch the city recede in the rearview mirror.

eleven

Willa

1963

We leave the theater, and the air has grown cold, a stiff, frigid wind whipping up the avenue. The Paramount Theater is grand, too grand for the movies but the perfect venue forCleopatrawith the stunning Elizabeth Taylor. I’m still swooning from the colors and the costumes, her raw power, as Paul and I walk up Broadway, arm in arm. What’s it like, I wonder, to be a star like Elizabeth Taylor, the eyes of the world on you in adoration?

“Wasn’t it marvelous?” I say, pushing into Paul, who has been quiet tonight. He’s struggling with his novel, and it always puts him in bad spirits. The writer is a fragile creature, prone to moods. He probably barely saw the film unfold, working through his own narrative issues.

“That’sthe kind of story I should be writing,” he says. “Something sweeping and historical, iconic.”

He would have said that about anything wonderful we saw—if it was horror, or science fiction. “That’s where the money is, in great epics.”

“You’re a wonderful writer,” I remind him. “A huge success. And we can only write the stories that belong to us—isn’t that what you always say?”

He lifts an eyebrow at me, then laughs and kisses my head.

“You’re right, of course. What would I do without you?”

“You’ll never have to find out.”