“Then stay. I'll put some shoes on and we'll go to ‘21.’“

“Like this?” She looked down at her plaid skirt and loafers and wool socks, but she shook her head. “I have to go home anyway. I haven't seen my mother in four months.”

“I keep forgetting rituals like that.” His voice was flat, and he looked even handsomer than he had before, but nothing stirred in Tana's heart for him, only the friendship that had continued to grow since they first met, nothing more than that, and she was sure that he had nothing other than platonic feelings for her as well.

She turned to look at him now, as she picked her raincoat up off the chair. “Don't you ever see your father at all, Harry?” Her voice was soft and her eyes were sad for him. She knew how alone he was. He had spent the holidays alone, he said he always did, or with friends, or in empty houses or hotels, and he only mentioned his father in the context of bad jokes about his women and his friends and his gallivanting here and there.

“I see him once in a while. We run into each other about once or twice a year. Usually here, or in the South of France.” It sounded very grand, but Tana easily sensed how lonely Harry was. It was why he had opened up so much to her. There was something inside him which was dying to reach out and be loved. And there was something like that in her too. A part of her which had only had Jean and had wanted more, a father, sisters and brothers, a family … something more than just a lonely woman who spent her life waiting for a man who didn't appreciate her. And Harry didn't even have that. Tana hated his father, just thinking about him.

“What's he like?”

Harry shrugged again. “Good-looking, I guess. At least that's what the women say … smart … cold.…” He looked Tana square in the eye. “He killed my mother, what do you think he's like?” Something shrivelled up in her as she watched her friend's eyes, and she didn't know what to say. She was sorry that she had asked, but Harry put an arm around her shoulders as he walked her to the door. “Don't let it upset you, Tan. It happened a long time ago.” But she was sad for him. There was something so lonely about him, and he was so funny and decent and nice, it wasn't fair … and he was also spoiled and self-indulgent and mischievous. He had put on a British accent for the first room service waiter who'd come up, and pretended to the second one that he was French, and afterwards he and Tana were convulsed. She wondered if he always behaved like that and suspected that he did. And as she took the bus back uptown, she suddenly didn't mind the depressing little apartment she shared with Jean. Better that than the lavish, chilly decor of the Winslow suite at the Hotel Pierre. The rooms were large, and everything was chrome and glass and white, predictably expensive, there were two huge fabulous white fur rugs on the floor and there were priceless paintings and objects everywhere, but that's all there was. There was no one there when he arrived from school, and there wouldn't be that night or the next. There was only Harry, with an icebox filled with booze and Cokes, a wardrobe of expensive clothes, and a TV.

“Hi … I'm home … !” She called out as she got in and Jean came running to her, and held her tight with a look of delight.

“Oh baby, you look so good!” It made her think of Harry again, and all that he didn't have, in spite of his trusts, and his houses, and his fancy name … he didn't have this. And somehow Tana wanted to make it up to him. Jean was looking at her now and there was such obvious pleasure in her eyes that it actually felt good to be home. “I saw your bags. Where did you go?”

“I went to see a friend downtown. I didn't think you'd be home for a while.”

“I left work early, in case you'd come in.”

“I'm sorry, Mom.”

“Who did you go to see?” Jean always liked to know what she did, who she saw. But Tana wasn't as used to the questions anymore, and she hesitated for just a moment before she smiled.

“I went to see Harry Winslow at the Pierre. I don't know if you remember him.”

“Of course I do.” Jean's eyes lit up. “Is he in town?”

“He has an apartment here.” Tana's voice was quiet, and there were mixed reviews in Jean's eyes. It was good that he was mature enough, and solvent enough, to have his own place, but also dangerous at the same time.

“Were you alone with him?” Jean looked concerned.

This time Tana laughed. “Sure. We shared a hamburger and watched TV. All perfectly harmless, Mom.”

“Still … I don't think you should.” She watched Tana's eyes, as the pretty blonde's face began to tense.

“He's my friend, Mom.”

“He's still a young man, and you never know what could happen in a situation like that.”

“Yes, I do.” Her eyes were instantly hard. She knew only too well. Only it had happened at precious Billy Durning's house, in his own father's bedroom, with a hundred kids right downstairs. “I know who I can trust.”

“You're too young to be able to judge things like that, Tan.”

“No, I'm not.” Tan's face was like a rock. Billy Durning's raping her had changed her whole life. She knew everything about things like that, and if she sensed any threat from Harry at all, she would never have gone to his hotel, or stayed. But she knew instinctively that he was her friend and she would come to no harm at his hands, unlike her mother's lover's son. “Harry and I are just friends.”

“You're being naive. There's no such thing between boys and girls, Tan. Men and women can't be friends.”

Tana's eyes opened wide. She couldn't believe her mother was saying those words. “How can you say a thing like that, Mom?”

“Because it's true. And if he's inviting you to his hotel, he has something else in mind, whether you recognize it or not. Maybe he's just biding his time.” And then she smiled. “Do you think he could be serious about you, Tan?”

“Serious?” Tana looked as though she were about to explode. “Serious? I just told you, all we are is friends.”

“And I told you I didn't believe that.” There was something almost insinuating about her smile. “You know, Tan, he would be quite a catch.”

But it was too much for Tana to stand. She jumped to her feet, and looked down at her mother with scorn. “You make him sound like a fish, for chrissake. I don't want a ‘catch.’ I don't want to get married. I don't want to get laid. All I want is to have some friends and go to school. Can you understand that?” There were tears in her eyes, mirrored by those in Jean's.

“Why do you have to get so violent about everything? You never used to be like that, Tan.” Jean's voice sounded so sad that it tore at Tana's heart, but she couldn't help how she felt or what she said anymore.

“You never used to push me all the time.”

“When do I push?” She looked shocked. “I don't even see you anymore. I've seen you twice in six months. That's pushing?”

“That coming out party was pushing, and what you just said about Harry is pushing, and talking about catches, and settling down, and getting married is pushing. For chrissake, Mom, I'm eighteen years old!”

“And you're almost nineteen. And then what? When are you going to think about it, Tan?”

“I don't know, Mom. Maybe never, how's that? Maybe I'll never get married. So what? If I'm happy, who cares?”

“I care. I want to see you married to a nice man with nice children in a nice house.…” Jean was crying openly now, it was what she had always wanted for herself … yet, she was alone … with a couple of nights a week with a man she loved, and a daughter who was almost gone … She bent her head and sobbed, as Tana came to her and hugged her close.

“Come on, Mom, stop … I know you want the best for me … but just let me work things out for myself.”

Her mother looked at her with big, sad, dark eyes. “Do you realize who Harry Winslow is?”

Tana's voice was soft. “Yes. He's my friend.”

“His father is one of the richest men in the United States. He even makes Arthur Durning look poor.” Arthur Durning. The measuring stick for everything in Jean's life.

“So what?”

“Do you realize what kind of life you could have with him?”

Tana looked sad for her, and she suddenly felt sad for herself. Her mother was missing the point, and probably had all her life. But by the same token, Jean had given her so much. And Tana felt as though she owed her a lot now. But in spite of that, she hardly saw Jean during the entire two weeks she was in New York. She ran around with Harry almost every day, although she didn't admit it to Jean. She was still furious at what her mother had said. Do you realize who he is? As though that made a difference to her. She wondered how many people felt that way about him. It seemed a hideous thought, to be evaluated because of his last name.

Cautiously, she even asked Harry about it one day, when they were having a picnic in Central Park. “Doesn't that bug you, Harry? I mean people wanting to get to know you because of who you are?” The thought still horrified her, but he only shrugged and munched his apple as he lay on the grass.

“That's just the way people are, I guess. It gives them some kind of a thrill. I used to see people do that to my father all the time.”

“Doesn't it get to him?”

“I don't really think he cares.” Harry smiled at her. “He's so insensitive, I don't think he actually feels anything at all.” Tana watched Harry's eyes.

“Is he really that bad?”

“Worse.”

“Then how come you're so nice?”

He laughed. “Just lucky, I guess. Or maybe it's my mother's genes.”

“Do you still remember her?” It was the first time she had asked him that, and he looked away from her.

“Sometimes … a little bit … I don't know, Tan.” He looked back at her again. “Sometimes, when I was a kid, I'd pretend to my friends that she was alive, that she was out shopping or whatever when they came over to play. I didn't want to be different from the rest of them. But they always found out. Their mothers would tell them or something when they went home, and then they'd think I was weird, but I didn't give a damn. It felt nice to be normal just for a few hours. I'd just talk about her like she was out … or upstairs…” Tan saw tears stand out in his eyes, and then he looked at her almost viciously. “Pretty dumb, huh, to be hung up on a mother you never even knew?”