“Thank you.”

“Maybe you’re losing your touch.”

“Susan-”

“Or were you being faithful to Samantha?”

That sounded like a loaded question, so I explained, “Elizabeth, as you might imagine, is very upset about her mother. We spent the whole day going through Ethel’s papers and personal property, and by the end of the day she was emotionally drained, and she drank too much wine and went to bed early. I slept on the couch. End of story.”

“All right. I’m sorry.” She inquired, “Do you have any third-party witnesses to those events?”

I was about to lose my patience, but when I looked at her, I saw she was smiling, so I, too, smiled, and she put down her glass and hugged me. She said, “I don’t want to be jealous.”

Could’ve fooled me. I put my glass on the counter, and we hugged and kissed.

She said, “Let’s call Edward and Carolyn.”

She seemed excited about that, and I realized that I was, too. I said, “You make the call.”

She went to the wall phone, dialed, and said, “I’m trying Carolyn on her cell phone first.”

Carolyn answered, and they chatted for a few seconds, and from what I could gather, Carolyn was at Sunday brunch with friends. Susan said to her, “I’d like to speak to you in private for a moment. Yes, all right.” Susan covered the phone and said to me, “I want you to tell her.” Carolyn came back on the line, and Susan said, “Your father wants to speak to you.”

That must have confused Carolyn because Susan added, “No, he’s right here.” She handed me the phone, and I said to my daughter, “How are you, sweetheart?”

She replied, “Great. So… how are you?”

“Also great.” I could hear street noises in the background, and I asked, “Where are you?”

“In front of Petrossian.” She added, “I’m with friends here.”

I didn’t think assistant district attorneys made that much money, so maybe the Stanhope trust was paying for the champagne and caviar. I joked, “I hope this is an expense account brunch.”

“I have a date, Dad.”

“Oh…” I still couldn’t think of my little girl with a man, especially one who plied her with caviar and champagne. I joked again, “Then get seconds on the Beluga.”

She ignored that and asked, “So… what’s happening?”

Good question. I glanced at Susan, who decided to put the phone on speaker, and I said, “Well… I’m here at your mother’s house…”

“I know.”

“And… well, Cari, we’ve decided to get back together-” I heard a squeal, and I thought she’d gotten hit by a bus or something, then she squealed again and said, “Oh my God! Oh, Dad, that’s wonderful! Oh, I’m sooo happy. Mom! Mom!”

Susan took the phone from me, turned it off speaker, and began a rapid-fire conversation with her daughter, punctuated by unintelligible squeaks and squeals.

I figured my speaking part was finished, so I moved off and freshened my orange juice with vodka. I heard Susan say, “John, that’s enough,” then she turned her attention back to Carolyn.

After a few minutes of coded girl talk, Susan put the phone back on speaker and said, “We’ll let you get back to your friends. Call me when you have a moment. Your father wants to say goodbye.”

I called across the kitchen, “Bye, Cari! Love you!”

“Bye, Dad! I love you!”

Susan signed off and said to me, “She’s so happy for us, John. Isn’t this wonderful?”

“It is.” I said, “She has a date.”

“I told her we were going to call Edward now, and she said she’ll call him tonight.”

“Who is this guy?”

“He’s our son. Edward.”

“No, I mean her date.”

“Oh… I don’t know. She broke up with Cliff, and now she’s dating again. But she’s not serious about anyone.”

“Petrossian for a two-hundred-dollar brunch sounds serious.” I speculated, “Maybe this has something to do with her concern about world hunger.”

Susan ignored me and suggested, “You call Edward.”

I glanced at the clock and observed, “It’s only ten A.M. in L.A. He’s probably sleeping.”

She took the phone, dialed, and said, “I’m trying his apartment.” After a few rings, someone answered, and Susan said, “Hello, this is Mrs. Sutter, Edward’s mother. Is he there?” She listened again and said, “Tell him it’s important. I’ll hold. Thank you.” She informed me, “He’s in the shower.”

“Who was that?”

“A young lady without the good manners to give me her name, nor the social skills to say that Edward was indisposed.”

“Maybe that’s what she said. Indisposed. And you heard ‘in de shower.’”

“Very funny.”

Susan, I recalled, had always been a little more critical of her son’s choice of girlfriends than she’d been of Carolyn’s choice of boyfriends. I usually had the opposite reaction to their significant others. I’m sure Freud could explain that if I wrote to him. Dear Sigmund-

Susan said to me, “I hope I didn’t alarm him.”

I replied, “You probably sent that girl bursting into the shower.”

“John, please.” Susan put the phone close to her ear and said, “Good morning, sweetheart. No, everything is fine. I just wanted to share some good news with you. Hold on. Someone wants to say hello.”

She handed me the phone, and I, using his old nickname, said, “Hello, Skipper.”

“Dad!”

“Sorry to pull you out of the shower-”

“No problem. What’s up?”

“Who answered the phone?”

“Oh… that was Stacy. She’s… we’re going to the beach.”

“Terrific. Which one?”

“Probably Malibu. Hey, Dad, you have to come out here.”

“I plan to. But I guess I’ll see you here soon for a less happy occasion.”

“Yeah… how’s she doing?”

“Not too well. I saw her a few days ago, and I think it will be soon.”

“That’s really sad.” He asked me, “So, how are you doing back in New York?”

“Terrific. Good to be back.”

“How’s the weather there?”

“Perfect.” It didn’t seem to occur to Edward that there was anything unusual about his mother and me calling him together, and he seemed to have forgotten that it was about something important. Edward actually has a genius IQ, though most people wouldn’t guess that, and he’s been a little spacey since I can remember, so I couldn’t blame that on California, much as I’d like to.

I could see that Susan was getting a bit impatient, so I said to Edward, “Well, Skipper, you’re probably wondering why we called.”

“Yeah… is everything okay?”

Susan put the phone on speaker and said, “I’m on the line, sweetheart. Your father and I have some very good news.”

“Great.”

I guess it was my turn to speak, so I said in a happy tone, “Your mother and I are getting married.”

“Huh?”

“Married. Again. Remarried.”

There was a silence, then Edward asked, “You mean…? To each other?”

Susan chirped in, “Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Oh… yeah. Wow. Awesome.” Then I think he got it, and said, “Oh, wow.” He expounded on that. “Hey, are you kidding?”

Susan and I replied in unison, “No,” and Susan said to him, “We called Cari and she’s just thrilled. She’ll call you tonight.”

“Great. Hey. I’m…” And then something odd happened, and I could actually hear that he was choking up. I had a little lump in my throat, too, and I saw that Susan had tears in her eyes.

I said to him, “We’re going to let you get going, Skipper. Have fun at the beach. See you soon.”

“Yeah… see you…”

Susan was dabbing her eyes with a tissue, and suggested to Edward, “Don’t make too many plans for when you get in. This is family time. We’re having dinner together.”

“Yeah? Oh. Okay. Sure. Good.”

Susan continued her briefing. “I’ll call and e-mail you as soon as we know something. You need to take the first available flight to New York. It doesn’t have to be direct or nonstop. And don’t forget to ask about first or business class if coach is sold out. Edward? Are you listening?”

Edward had actually stopped listening about ten years ago, but he replied, “Okay, Mom.”