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Chapter 91

They were not there yet. After finishing at Tom and Eileen’s, Kate and Simon reversed the miles taken by Eileen years ago when she drove to Tom’s house in Chappaqua after she broke up with Simon.

They brought some desserts with them and when they were in the cavernous living room drinking cognac to settle their stomachs and chocolate cake to satisfy a sweet urge, sitting on the sofa next to one another, they talked. Simon had put on, as he usually did at night, Beethoven. His violin concerto this time, though not too loud.

Both changed from what they had worn to Eileen and Tom’s. He was in gray sweatpants and a long-sleeve polo shirt and she in pajama bottoms and a Yale t-shirt. Their legs were on the coffee table, between their cognac snifters. The cake—a single, large slice—was on Simon’s lap.

“You realize they expected us to tell them we were engaged don’t you?”

Simon took a bite of the cake.

“I know. Have you given it thought?”

“Wait,” Kate said, “isn’t that your job?”