She had another busy week. She went to two events at other galleries, and the opening of a major show at MOMA, which was very exciting. She met a photographer at the museum event. His name was Clay Washington, and much to her own surprise, when he asked her out to dinner, she accepted. She was trying to make an effort, and Avery was right, she couldn’t stay locked up on Charles Street forever. He took her to a Chinese restaurant on Mott Street and they had a good time. He was interesting to talk to. He had traveled extensively in Asia and lived in India and Pakistan for several years. He was intelligent and attractive, and she tried not to be put off by how different he was from Todd. Clay, the photographer, was much more like her. He would have qualified as bohemian to Todd. He was just new and different. He dropped her off at her house in a cab after dinner, and she didn’t invite him in. He promised to call her. She hadn’t been swept off her feet by him, but it had been a pleasant evening, and for now that was enough.

He called her three days later, as promised, and invited her to lunch. He came by the gallery, admired the show that was up, and was impressed when he realized her father was Henry Thayer. Everything about him seemed right, except that she wasn’t attracted to him, but maybe that would come in time. He kissed her on the lips after lunch at a restaurant called Bread, and she let him, but she felt nothing. She felt dead inside, or numb. Maybe Todd had taken her heart with him.

She tried to explain it to Marya in a quiet moment that night.

“It was so weird. I felt like I was cheating on Todd.”

“It takes time to disengage from someone. It was a long time ago, but I was engaged to someone else before I met my husband. He was killed in a boating accident. I didn’t look at anyone else for two years. I just couldn’t. I even thought about going into a convent.” She smiled as she said it. “I was very young. And then I met John and fell madly in love, and I came alive again, more so than ever. We got married a year later. Give yourself time. And even because someone is a good person, that doesn’t make him right for you. You’ll know it when you find it. Maybe you and the photographer can be just friends.” It sounded like a better idea to Francesca, and she was grateful for Marya’s wisdom and perspective. She was sure that she was right.

The next time Clay called her, she told him she was busy. She was planning to go to an art auction at Christie’s and had thought of asking him, but realized she didn’t want to. So she went alone. It was easier than going out with the wrong man. She had a fairly decent time talking to assorted people after the auction, which had been lively, and was just leaving when she saw a familiar form in the distance. She recognized the way he walked and moved, and she saw him lean over and talk to someone as her heart took a leap. It was Todd, talking to a very pretty young woman. She had her arm linked into his, and he was smiling as he spoke to her, just the way he had looked in the beginning with her. Francesca wanted to drop to the floor and hide or crawl out of the room before he saw her. She felt like she was spying on him. She wasn’t, but she was mesmerized by what she saw, and she felt her heart sink to her feet. She was unable to feel anything for another man, and he was with this very pretty woman, looking completely enamored. There were tears in her eyes as she ran out of the gallery and lunged into a cab, and gave the driver her address on Charles Street. She cried all the way home, and wanted to hide when she got in. She didn’t want to see anyone. She just wanted to climb into bed and die.

It was a wake-up call for her. She was mourning a man with whom she had been profoundly unhappy for a year, a man she had loved but who was wrong for her. They had been wrong for each other, even if they loved each other. They had broken up, he had moved on, and she was still hanging on to something-memories, the ghost of him, the relationship they wanted and couldn’t pull off. His reaction was much healthier. He was living his life-she wasn’t. She suddenly felt as though someone had thrown cold water on her. She wondered if he was in love with the girl she’d seen him with, but whether he was or not was irrelevant. He no longer belonged to her, and never would again, nor should he. She didn’t want the agony they’d shared in the end any more than he did. The message of that night was clear: she had to move on. It was over.

She still didn’t want Clay Washington, the photographer she had met at MOMA, but somewhere out there was a man for her, and she had the right to find him. No matter how sweet it had been for a while, Todd wasn’t it. She was going to have to find her dream somewhere else. Maybe he had already found it. But whether or not he had, she knew she had to start living again, and not just between the gallery and 44 Charles Street. She needed a new life and a broader world. But seeing him with another woman had definitely smarted. It had been excruciatingly painful. She thought about it for a long time that night, and was haunted by the look on his face when he turned to the woman he was with. She was still shaken by it when she went downstairs the next morning and sat at the kitchen table, staring into space. She didn’t even hear Chris come in.

“That bad, huh?” he said, teasing her, as he started a pot of coffee. No one else was up yet.

“Hm?… What?… sorry…” She looked ragged and exhausted. She had slept badly and looked it.

“You look hungover,” he said honestly, and handed her a mug of coffee a few minutes later. They were developing a casual camaraderie as roommates.

“Just haunted by the ghost of Christmas past. I saw my old boyfriend last night, with a new woman. I guess it shook me up more than it should have. It was a reality check for me.”

“Who sets the rules for that? About how long things take,” Chris said as he sat down across from her. “Who decides how upset you’re going to get? If it shook you up, so be it. You have a right to your feelings. That’s a pretty upsetting thing to see.” She had the impression he’d been there, from what he said, but she didn’t ask him. She was grateful for his kind words and thanked him as Marya walked in, looking bright and cheerful as usual. She always seemed to be in a good mood. It was a sharp contrast to the way Francesca was feeling, as she reached for the computer that was sitting on the table. Chris never touched it, Marya had no idea how to use it, and the one who used it most of the time was Eileen, who still didn’t have her own.

Francesca had just turned it on when it sprang to life, and the next thing she knew, there was an incredible scene on the screen. Two women having sex with three men, and the intricate combinations were stunning as they all watched in disbelief, and Francesca realized what had happened. Eileen had been watching porn, probably with her new boyfriend, and Francesca had never even imagined the things they were doing, as she finally came to life and switched it off, still looking shocked. Chris was laughing loudly, and Marya gave a little giggle. They were all adults, Francesca knew they shouldn’t have been horrified, but it was pretty amazing to see it. Chris looked vastly amused, although he didn’t look like the type to watch porn, but he thought the incongruity of it on their breakfast table was very funny.

“I guess Little Bo Peep is not quite as innocent as she looks,” he commented. He thought it was harmless, and it didn’t bother him, although he wouldn’t have thought it so funny if Ian had been in the room. That would have upset him deeply.

“I’ll ask her not to watch that stuff on the house computer,” Francesca said quietly, thinking of Ian too. He liked playing with the computer and was good at it. She didn’t want him happening on any scenes like that, and she didn’t want to see them either. She liked Eileen, but she felt like a house mother in a college dorm a lot of the time. Some of the men Eileen went out with looked worrisome to Francesca. But Eileen breezed right through it, went out with them a few times, and then moved on to the next one. The one she was seeing for the moment seemed like a good guy, and he had lasted longer than the others, but some of the previous ones had seemed unsuitable and downright crude. Eileen didn’t always notice the difference. She was a small-town girl in the big city, excited by everything.

Chris was still chuckling over the porn incident when he went back upstairs to work. And Francesca mentioned to Eileen discreetly that evening not to watch things like that on the house computer, in case Ian came across it on the weekends.

“Oh, I would never do that!” Eileen said, looking horrified. “We just watched it because we thought it was funny. I guess I forgot to turn it off when we went to bed. I had kind of a lot to drink last night. I’m really sorry, Francesca.” She looked so contrite and like such an innocent child as she said it that Francesca felt sorry for her. It made her suddenly grateful that she didn’t have children. She hated telling anyone what to do, or scolding them for their behavior. It wasn’t her place to tell Eileen how to behave. But she didn’t want porn on the kitchen computer. Eileen hugged her after she apologized, and Francesca sighed as she watched her bound up the stairs. Francesca was beginning to feel like her older sister, and wasn’t sure she wanted the role. But Eileen’s sweetness was hard to resist.

Chris was still chuckling about it the next night when he, Francesca, and Marya ate dinner in the kitchen. Marya had made them a wonderful roast beef, with vegetables and Yorkshire pudding. Eileen was out on a date with her new friend. “Maybe we should buy them porn DVDs instead,” he teased. He was in a good mood and chatted more than usual as they reached dessert. Marya had shared one of her better wines with them, and it had been a delicious meal.