“I hope nothing I said made you feel that you should come,” she said quietly, still feeling uncomfortable seeing him in her apartment. She blamed herself if she had led him on or encouraged him, but she didn’t think she had.

“You sounded sad. And I missed you, though I’m not sure why,” he said honestly. “I had to come to New York at some point anyway, so I decided it might as well be now, before I finish my book and start the next one. I won’t want to come for months after that. And I was sad myself when Michael left this morning, earlier than planned. Don’t be mad. I’m not here to push you into anything.” She knew there had to be plenty of other women available to him, if he wanted them. She just didn’t understand what he wanted from her. She offered to share her sandwich with him and he smiled and shook his head. It had been an incredibly impulsive move for him to come, and she couldn’t decide if it was flattering or scary. Most likely both.

“I’m fine. I had a huge meal on the plane, but I’ll keep you company while you eat.” She felt silly eating a sandwich in front of him while he ate nothing, so she put it aside, and then he shared the soup and ice cream with her. By the time they got to the eggnog ice cream, he had her laughing at the stories he told, and she had started to relax, in spite of the startling visit from a man she scarcely knew. It was awkward seeing him sitting there, stretched out on the couch and totally at ease in her loft.

They were just finishing the ice cream when he asked her about the ballerina again. “Why do I feel as though that’s you?” It was particularly odd because the ballerina in the photographs was blond, and Hope’s hair was so dark. But there was a similarity between her and the young dancer, a kind of familiar look. She took a deep breath then, and told him what she hadn’t planned to share with him.

“That’s my daughter, Camille.” In answer to what she said, he looked stunned.

“You lied to me,” he said, looking hurt. “You said you didn’t have kids.”

“I don’t,” Hope said quietly. “She died three years ago, at nineteen.” He was silent for a long moment, and so was Hope.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, looking shaken as he reached out to touch her hand, and she looked deep into his eyes.

“It’s all right.” She told herself silently again, ‘That was then. This is now,’ as the monks had taught her in Tibet. “You learn to live with it after a while.”

“She was a beautiful girl,” he said, glancing at the photographs again and then back at Hope. “What happened?”

“She was in college, at Dartmouth, where my father taught when I was a child, although he was gone by then. She called me one morning, with the flu, and she sounded really sick. Her roommate took her to the infirmary, and they called me an hour later. She had meningitis. I talked to her and she sounded awful. I got in the car to go up to her from Boston, Paul came with me. She died half an hour before we arrived. There was nothing they could do to save her. It just happened that way.” There were tears rolling slowly down her cheeks as she said it, and she had a peaceful look on her face, as Finn watched her. He looked devastated by what she’d said. “She danced in the summers with the New York City Ballet. She had thought about not going to college and dancing instead, but she managed to do both. They were going to take her in as soon as she graduated, or before if she wanted. She was a wonderful dancer.” And then as an afterthought, she added, “We called her Mimi.” Hope’s voice was barely more than a whisper as she said it. “I miss her terribly. And her death destroyed her father. It was the last straw for him. He had already been sick for years, and drinking heavily in secret. He stayed drunk for three months when she died. One of his old colleagues at Harvard did an intervention on him, and he put himself in a hospital and dried up after that. But when he did, he decided that he couldn’t be married to me anymore. Maybe I reminded him too much of Mimi, and the loss. He sold his business, bought a boat, and left me. He said he didn’t want me sitting around waiting for him to die, that I deserved better than that. But the truth was too that losing Mimi was so devastating for both of us, that our marriage fell apart. We’re still good friends, but every time we see each other we think of her. He filed for divorce, and I left for India. We still love each other, but I guess we loved her more. After that, there wasn’t much left of our marriage. When Mimi died, we all did in a way. He’s not the person he was, and maybe I’m not either. It’s hard to come through something like that in one piece. So there it is,” she said sadly. “I didn’t want to tell you in London. I don’t usually tell people about her. It’s just too sad. My life is very different without her, to say the least. It’s all about my work now. There’s nothing else. I love what I do, that helps.”

“Oh my God,” Finn said, with tears in his own eyes. Hope could sense that he had been thinking about his own son while she told him the story of her daughter. “I can’t even imagine what that must be like. It would kill me.”

“It almost did,” she said, as he came to sit next to her on the couch and put an arm around her shoulders. Hope didn’t object. Feeling him close to her helped. She hated talking about it, and rarely did, although she looked at the photographs on the wall every night and thought about her all the time, still. “The time I spent in India helped. And in Tibet. I found a wonderful monastery in Ganden, and I had an extraordinary teacher. I think he helped me to accept it. One really has no other choice.”

“And your ex-husband? How is he about it now? Did he go back to drinking?”

“No, he’s still sober. He’s aged a lot in the last three years, and he’s a lot sicker, so it’s hard to tell if it’s Mimi or the disease. He’s as happy as he can be on his boat. I bought this loft when I came back from India, but I travel a lot, so I’m away much of the time. I don’t need a lot in my life. Nothing makes sense without Mimi. She was the center of our life, and once she was gone, we were both pretty lost.” The pain she had experienced showed in her work. She had a deep connection with human suffering that came out in the photographs she took.

“You’re not too old to marry again and have another child,” Finn said gently, unsure of what to say to comfort her. How did you comfort a woman who had lost her only child? What she had told him was so enormous that he had no idea how to help her. He was shocked by the story she had told him. Hope wiped her eyes, and smiled.

“Technically, I’m not too old, but it’s not very likely, and it doesn’t make much sense. I can’t see myself marrying again, and I haven’t dated since Paul and I divorced. I just haven’t met anyone that I wanted to go out with, and I wasn’t ready. We’ve only been divorced for two years, and she’s been gone for three. It was a lot to lose at the same time. And by the time I do find someone again, if I ever do, I will be too old. I’m forty-four now, I think my baby-making days are pretty much over, or will be soon. And it wouldn’t be the same.”

“No, of course not, but you have a lot of years ahead of you. You can’t spend them alone, or you shouldn’t. You’re a beautiful woman, Hope, you have a lot of life in you. You can’t close the door on all that now.”

“I don’t really think about it, to be honest. I try not to. I just wake up every morning and face the day. That’s a lot. And I put everything into my work.” It showed. And then, without a word, he put his arms around her and held her. He wanted to shield her from all the sorrows in her life. She was surprisingly comfortable in his peaceful embrace. No one had done that for years. She couldn’t even remember the last time. She was suddenly glad he had come. She hardly knew him, but his being there seemed like a gift.

Finn sat there holding her for a long time, and then she smiled up at him. It was nice just sitting with him and not talking. And then slowly he let go of her, and she went to make herself a cup of tea and pour him a glass of wine. He followed her into the kitchen, and helped himself to more of the eggnog ice cream. He offered her some, and she shook her head, and then wondered if he was hungry. It was really late for him, in fact it was the middle of the night in London.

“Do you want some eggs or something? It’s all I have.”

“I know this sounds crazy,” he said, looking sheepish. “But I’d love some Chinese food. I’m starving. Is there any place like that around here?” It was Christmas night and not much was open, but there was a Chinese restaurant nearby that stayed open very late. She offered to call them and they were open, but they didn’t deliver.

“Do you want to go?” she asked, and he nodded.

“Is that all right? If you’re tired, I can go alone, although I’d love it if you’d come.” She smiled at him, and he put an arm around her shoulders again. He felt as though something important had happened between them that night, and so did she.

They put their coats on a few minutes later and went out. It was nearly eleven o’clock by then, and it was freezing cold. They hurried along the street to where the Chinese restaurant was. It was still open, and there were a surprising number of people inside. It was bright and noisy and smelled of Chinese food, people were shouting in the kitchen, and Finn grinned as they sat down.

“This was exactly what I wanted.” He looked happy and relaxed and so did she.

Hope ordered for them since she knew their food, and it arrived a little while later, and they both dug in. She was surprised that she was as hungry as he was. They were like starving people as they ate almost everything, and talked of lighter subjects than they had all evening. Neither of them mentioned Mimi again, although she was on their minds. They both chatted as they ate their dinner, and everyone around them seemed to be in good spirits. For some, it was the perfect ending to a Christmas Day.