For her part, Mary was angry. Kathleen Nelson wasn’t one iota improved from the horror she was on that Thanksgiving long ago. Much as she told everyone that she had forgiven them, part of the scar remained painful and, she admitted, always would. She was marrying Betty in three days. Why had she agreed with this insanity, to reopen the wound and now have salt rubbed in it? Mary simply got up, nodded to Tom, and only Tom, and was gone. And when she saw that Eileen was waiting across 47th Street from the restaurant she dodged a taxi and walked to her.