Kate sat in her office at The Bean. Though still on maternity leave, she had popped in to tally the time sheets and do payroll. On the desk in front of her lay the Tulane Alumni Association's invitation to Luke's lecture and book signing. Unbeknownst to Richard, she had dug it out of the kitchen trash. She wasn't sure why she hadn't told him. Perhaps because she had known he wouldn't understand, that he would react with unreasonable and unsubstantiated jealousy, that he would claim Luke's friendship didn't matter to him and try to intimidate her into letting it die.

But Luke's friendship did matter to her. She missed it. She missed him. She wanted the opportunity to patch things up. She wanted the opportunity to tell him how sorry she was for…everything.

She reached for the phone, thought better of it and drew her hand back. She had already called him three times, had already left three messages, the last pleading with him to meet with her and Richard when he came to town.

He'd returned none of them.

His silence was her answer. Luke didn't want her friendship. He didn't need it, or her, anymore. He didn't want her in his life, he had made that clear.

Let it go, she told herself. Let him go.

She pushed away from her desk, and crossed to Emma, asleep in her car carrier in the corner. Kate smiled, feeling lucky-not to have to choose between a job and motherhood, not to have to leave her child every day. She would have hated that, would have hated missing her smiles, her many firsts, seconds and thirds.

The way Richard did.

She thought of Richard. Since their argument over leftover pizza and Emma a couple of weeks ago, he had been away in the evenings much more than usual. But when he'd been home, to her great relief, he had doted on Emma. He seemed to finally be taking pleasure in his daughter, in being a father.

Becoming parents had been a huge adjustment for them both. Stressful. Anxiety producing. She shook her head. Even wonderful life changes caused stress. She knew that. The problem was, she'd had her eyes focused for so long on the dream of becoming a mother, the ramifications of the actual event had blindsided her.

Kate returned to her desk and the waiting time sheets. Her gaze fell once again on the invitation. As it did, her thoughts returned to Luke. Would he enjoy being a father? she wondered. She knew from the bio on his books that he was still single. Had he ever wanted to marry? Did he long to be a parent, to share his life with children, as she and Richard had?

Fat chance, she decided, smiling to herself. A big success now, brushing elbows with Hollywood, no doubt the last thing he wanted was a wife and kids. He was probably dating some twenty-year-old starlet, for heaven's sake.

"Kate?"

She lifted her gaze. Marilyn stood grinning in the doorway. "What's up?"

"Not a thing. While we were in a lull, I thought I'd come and chat. I've missed having you around."

"Come on in." Kate smiled and pushed aside the time sheets. "I wasn't getting much done anyway."

"I saw that." Marilyn made herself comfortable in the chair in front of Kate's desk. "You looked like you were a million miles away."

"I confess, I am a little preoccupied." Kate glanced down at Luke's invitation, then back up at the other woman. "Have you ever lost a really good friend? Someone whose friendship was important to you? Really important?"

"Yeah, I suppose. I had a couple really good girlfriends in high school. We were as close as sisters. But we drifted apart after graduation."

"Do you miss them?"

"Not them, no. But I do miss what we had."

"Ever thought of calling them, of getting together again?"

"We actually did. We met and had lunch." One corner of Marilyn's mouth lifted in a rueful smile. "It wasn't the same. We didn't have anything in common anymore." She shrugged. "We kind of sat there, wishing we had something to say. Struggling to find some common ground to latch on to."

"Did you ever find anything?"

"The past. That's all there was." Marilyn met Kate's eyes. "Why the trip down Memory Lane?"

"An old friend," she said, picking up the invitation and handing it to Marilyn. "He's going to be in town, and I'd love to see him."

"You know Luke Dallas? The Luke Dallas?" She tipped her head, studying his press photo. "He's so cute."

"We went to Tulane together. He, Richard and I were really good friends. The best of friends."

She handed the invitation back. "So, what's the problem?"

"We had a fight right before graduation and haven't spoken since." Kate sighed. "I don't know if it's becoming a parent or what, but it's been gnawing at me lately. I want to try to repair the rift. I need to."

"And since he's going to be in New Orleans, you see it as the perfect opportunity."

"I do. He, obviously, feels differently. I've left three messages, he hasn't returned one of them."

Marilyn said nothing for a long moment. She sat, eyebrows drawn together in thought. Finally, she met Kate's eyes. "If this is that important to you, why are you asking his permission?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've got an invitation. It's a free country. Just go."

"You mean, just show up at the signing?"

"Why not? Force a confrontation. Get right in his face and make him listen to you."

"But what if he-"

"Blows you off?" she supplied. "Sends you on your way?"

"Yes." Kate clasped her hands together, feeling like a kid instead of a grown woman with a child. "I'd hate that. It'd be so…humiliating."

"At least you'd know you tried. At least you could say you did all you could to repair the friendship." Marilyn stood and started toward the door. When she reached it, she stopped and looked back at Kate. "Think about it. After all, what do you have to lose?"

She had nothing to lose, Kate decided, and the following Saturday morning, after Richard left for his golf game, she got herself and Emma dressed and off to Luke's signing. Forty minutes later she was back home, juggling a squirming Emma in her arms as she fumbled to fit her house key into the front door lock. She finally did, opened the door and stepped inside.

Emma squealed in delight, and Kate made a sound of exasperation. "Why today, you little stinker? Are you deliberately trying to make me miss the signing?"

The infant beamed at her in response, and Kate shook her head and hurried to her bedroom. That morning, in anticipation of seeing Luke for the first time in more than ten years, she had taken extra care with her appearance. She had chosen a chamois-colored linen jacket and trousers and a short-sleeved silk shirt.

She had been halfway across the Causeway when Emma had thrown up. Not any old puke, but a major, bypass the bib, all over her clothes, upchuck. Always prepared for this not unusual occurrence, Kate carried an extra set of clothes for Emma everywhere she went. She had swung into one of the crossovers, and gone around to change Emma.

One small problem. She hadn't brought another set of clothes for herself and just as she had gotten Emma looking picture perfect again, her daughter had decided once was not enough and had decorated the front of Kate's blouse.

She'd had two choices: go to the book signing wearing a blouse with baby puke stains decorating the front or turn back.

So, here she was.

Kate reached the bedroom and laid Emma on the bed. The infant smiled and waved her arms and legs in delight. "Oh sure, now you're happy, troublemaker."

Emma's response was her rendition of a laugh, a kind of low hum followed by a popping sound.

Kate couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, so we're going to be late. Big deal. Less time waiting in line."