It was a long day after that, and she had to cancel several meetings. It was too hard to get around, and she sent her assistant to two job sites. Katie called to check on her and was very solicitous. And Annie finally gave up and went home early at four o’clock with two shopping bags full of work. She saw Tom on the news that night, after she took a pain pill and had a nap. And Tom looked back to normal on screen, other than the cast on his arm. His shirt cuff was rolled up, and he couldn’t wear a jacket. But he was in good spirits and looked good on the news.

*  *  *

Tom was waiting at the table for her when Annie walked into the restaurant the next day. She was getting more proficient with the crutches, but he walked to the door to help her anyway.

“We look like we’ve been in a train wreck together,” he said as he walked her to the table. “Thanks for meeting me for lunch. I enjoyed talking to you the other day.” They sat down, and they both ordered iced tea. She said that if she had wine she’d fall on her crutches, and he said he never drank at lunchtime.

After they ordered lunch, Tom smiled at her and got right to the point. “I never asked you the other night. I assume you’re not married,” he commented hopefully, and she smiled. No one had come to the hospital for either of them, and they had each guessed that the other was single. But he wanted to confirm it.

“No, I’m not. And you?” Annie smiled at him.

“Divorced. I was married for eight years. I’ve been divorced for five. My kind of work isn’t conducive to happy marriages. I was traveling most of the time and away for a long time sometimes. We finally figured out that it wasn’t going to work, and she married someone else. We’re on fairly decent terms. She has two kids now. I never had time for that either, and that was a big deal to her. I don’t blame her. I just didn’t want to have kids when I was never there, and now it’s a little late.” He didn’t seem upset about it. “You’re divorced?” At her age, and with her looks, he presumed she had to be and was surprised when she shook her head.

“I’ve never been married,” she said simply. He was so direct and straightforward that she didn’t feel like a loser when she said it to him. It was just a fact.

“So no kids,” he said. He wanted to get the details out of the way, but she shook her head and then nodded in answer to his question, and he looked confused.

“No, I don’t have kids, and yes, I do. My sister and her husband died sixteen years ago, when their plane crashed. I inherited their three children. They were five, eight, and twelve at the time. They’re grown up now, or they tell me they are. Sometimes I’m not so sure. Liz is twenty-eight and an editor at Vogue, Ted is in law school at NYU, he’s twenty-four, and Kate is an artist, she’s twenty-one and she goes to Pratt. Or she did until this week. She’s just decided to take a semester off, and I’m seriously pissed about it. So that’s my story,” she said, smiling at him, as he looked at her, impressed by what she had just told him.

“No, that’s their story,” he said quietly. “What’s yours?”

“They’re my story,” she said honestly. “Inheriting a ready-made family when you’re fresh out of architecture school is a full-time job. I was twenty-six when they came to live with me. It took me a while to figure out how to do it. But I got the hang of it eventually.”

“And now?” He was suddenly curious about her. He had suspected none of this the other night. But they had exchanged no personal information. They were too busy hurting.

“Just when I got good at it, they grew up. Katie just moved back in, but she’s been living in the dorm for three years. I hate this part. I have to sit back and watch them lead their own lives and do all the crazy stuff that kids do, like drop out of school. I really miss them.”

“I’ll bet you do after all those years taking care of them. Is that why you never married?”

“Probably … I don’t know … I never really had time. I was too busy with them and fulfilling a promise to my sister, that if anything ever happened to them, I’d take the kids. So I did. It’s been wonderful. I never regretted it for a minute. They’ve been an incredible gift in my life.” It had been a fair trade. Her youth for theirs.

“That’s quite a story,” he said with a look of admiration. “It sounds like you wound up with empty nest syndrome without ever having kids of your own. That’s not fair. But I guess it met any need you may have had to have children. Do you still want your own?” He was curious about her. She was full of surprises and seemed content with her life. She wasn’t one of those desperate, unhappy women who felt that they’d missed the boat and were scrambling to fix it. And he liked that about her. She wasn’t looking for a savior or a rescuer. She seemed very whole to him and at peace with herself.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged easily. “I never had time to think about having kids of my own. I was too busy. It would have been nice if my life had worked out that way, but it didn’t. It went in a different direction. I got three great kids anyway.” She smiled at him across the table.

“No serious guys?”

“Not in a long time. I was too busy for that too.” She didn’t apologize for it or even seem to regret it.

“Wow … I feel like I’m having lunch with Mother Teresa,” Tom said, grinning at her. And she was a lot prettier than Mother Teresa.

“No, I’m just a woman with a full plate. Three kids and a career. I don’t know how most women juggle all that and a husband.”

“They don’t. That’s why most marriages end up in the divorce courts. It sounds like you and I are married to our jobs, and in your case, your sister’s kids too.”

“That about sums it up. And now I have to learn to let go of them. That’s a lot harder than it looks.” And for the first time in sixteen years, her life felt empty as a result.

“So I’m told,” he said, totally intrigued by her. They talked about his work then, and his travels, his time in the Middle East, the architecture they both loved. They talked about art and politics. They never stopped talking until the end of lunch, and they had both had a great time with each other. “I’m beginning to think it was a blessing breaking my arm,” he said with a broad smile as he looked at her. “If I hadn’t, I’d never have met you.” It was a nice way to look at it, and she was flattered. “Do you suppose we could do lunch again sometime?” he asked, looking hopeful, and she nodded.

“I’d like that.” She said it simply, thinking that he’d be an interesting friend to have.

“I’ll call you,” he promised, but she didn’t think much of it. Lots of men had said that to her over the years and never called her. And maybe he had a girlfriend. She hadn’t asked him that. The fact that he wasn’t married didn’t mean he was free. Anything was possible. She wasn’t counting on hearing from him again, although she liked him. But he was a celebrity, and his life could have been fuller or more complicated than he admitted. She knew that about men too. She’d been on lots of first dates in the last twenty years. And never heard from the guys again.

He helped her into a cab after lunch, and she went back to her office. Ted called her and said that he had talked to Kate and she was adamant about not going back to school until next semester. She was determined to work in the tattoo parlor. He was very annoyed at her and had told her so himself. Katie didn’t care. She had made up her mind.

Two days later Liz came home from Paris, and she got nowhere with Kate either. She wanted to spend time with her younger sister, but she was too busy. Three days after Liz got back, she had to go out to L.A. for a story. She was doing a piece on the important jewelry of big stars of days gone by. She had tracked down more than a dozen important pieces and their new owners. And they had moved up the shooting date on her while she was in Paris. She hardly had time to unpack and switch bags. Jean-Louis was coming back to New York the day she left. He had stayed in Paris for a couple of days to see Damien, and he was planning to be back in New York when Lizzie returned from California.

Liz told Annie that they had had a wonderful time together in Paris, and his son was the sweetest little boy. He was no trouble at all. Lizzie was still sorry for Damien that they were sending him away to live with his grandmother, which was easier for his parents, but not necessarily best for him. Lizzie had her doubts about it, but she didn’t feel comfortable being too emphatic about it to Jean-Louis. It was his son after all, not hers. If Damien had been hers, she would never have parted with him, which was why she didn’t want kids yet. She didn’t have time for them, and she was smart enough to know it.

Liz stopped by at the apartment before she flew to L.A., and she felt bad to see Annie struggling on crutches, although Annie was better at it than she’d been in the beginning. But she was tired and still hurting and worried about Kate. Liz promised to try and talk to her sister again after L.A.

Paul helped Katie move out of the dorm that weekend. They brought all her stuff back and put it in her room in Annie’s apartment, and then they went out to meet friends and go to a movie. Paul was around constantly now, which worried Annie too. No matter how nice he was, Annie was still concerned about their seemingly serious relationship and its potential impact on them.

They were all busy and had their own lives. Annie was busy with her projects, Katie was either at work or with Paul, Ted had become a mystery man, rarely in evidence, and Liz was still in California. And on Sunday, Annie decided she needed a break and went to a farmers’ market she liked in Tompkins Square Park in the East Village. There were fresh fruits and vegetables, homemade jams, and canned goods. It was hard to negotiate with her ankle, but she managed with a string bag in each hand as she held her crutches. She was talking to a Mennonite woman in a lace cap about her homemade preserves, when Annie looked up and found herself face-to-face with Ted on the other side of the same stand.