Eventually Vicki wiped her eyes and climbed back into her own chair.

"I'm sorry," she said. "This is obviously still a sore subject with me. Pat's listened to me rant about it on enough nights when she wanted to be sleeping."

She looked across the table, her eyes still red. "Jan, I envy you. You've never had a mother, so you don't miss it, not the same way you miss something that you did have, something that was taken away from you suddenly and against your will.

"Yes, she's difficult and crazy and unhappy, but . . . our life together was good. Maybe it wasn't settled and suburban and stable, but when the fuck have I ever cared about settled and suburban and stable? Look where I ended up.

"We made a pact, she and I, when I turned ten, that we'd stick together no matter what, and that we'd make all our decisions together. I would have stuck with that, but she didn't, she broke both halves of the agreement."

She stood up. "This doesn't affect how I feel about you, Jan, but it doesn't affect how I feel about her either."

She walked out.

"She's upset," Pat said. "Otherwise she would have asked about her father. Do you know who her father is?"

Jan Sleet nodded. "Yes, the same as mine. His name is Vincent Stiglianese. He's a college professor in Italy. That's the other reason I had to talk to her about this now, because he's coming for a visit. But I can't tell you why, that's a secret."

Marshall leaned over the table toward Pat. "Don't worry," he whispered loudly, "I'll tell you sometime when she's not around." He hooked a thumb at his employer.

Next Chapter: A Visit to Perry