a private pad a short distance from the main residence just after noon.
The children climbed out one by one.
I followed.
Parker and Miles wore dark wool coats.
Audrey had chosen a cream winter coat, while Willa insisted on wearing the dusty-rose coat she had picked herself.
The front door opened before we reached the steps.
Eleanor Ashby appeared first.
My former mother-in-law.
She looked almost exactly as I remembered her, only older.
Perfect hair.
Elegant clothes.
The unmistakable posture of a woman accustomed to rooms adjusting themselves around
