to　various　people　who　were　already　in　Paris。　I　fielded　them
  listlessly；　uneventfully；　until　I　went　to　gather　my　things　and　try
  to　sneak　out　for　the　night　before　the　phone　rang　again。　It　wasn’t
  until　I　was　climbing　exhaustedly　into　my　coat　that　I　caught　a
  glimpse　of　the　note　that　I’d　stuck　to　my　monitor　just　so　this　very
  thing　wouldn’t　happen：　CALL　A；　3：30P。M。　TODAY。　My　head　felt　like　it
  was　swimming；　my　contacts　had　long　before　dried　to　tiny；　hard　shards
  covering　my　eyes；　and　at　this　point　my　head　started　to　throb。　No
  sharp　pains；　just　that　nebulous；　dull　kind　of　ache　where　you　can’t
  pinpoint　the　center　but　you　know　it　will　build　and　build　in　a　slow；
  burning　intensity　until　you　either　manage　to　pass　out　or　your　head
  just　explodes。　In　the　frenzy　of　all　the　calls　that　had　produced　such
  anxiety；　such　panic；　from　across　an　ocean；　I　had　forgotten　to　take
  the　thirty　seconds　out　of　my　day　and　call　Alex　when　he’d　asked　me
  to。　Simply　up　and　forgotten　to　do　something　so　simple　for　someone
  who　never　seemed　to　need　anything　from　me。
  I　sat　down　in　the　now　darkened　and　silent　office　and　picked　up　the
  phone　that　was　still　a　little　wet　from　my　sweaty　hands　during
  Miranda’s　last　call　a　few　minutes　earlier。　His　Home　line　rang　and
  rang　until　the　machine　picked　up；　but　he　answered　on　the　first　ring
  when　I　tried　his　Cell　Phone。
  “Hi；”　he　said；　knowing　it　was　me　from　the　caller　ID。　“How　was　your
  day？”
  “Whatever；　usual。　Alex；　I’m　so　sorry　I　didn’t　call　you　at
  three…thirty。　I　can’t　even　get　into　it—it’s　just　that　things　were　so
  crazy　here；　she　just　kept　calling　and—”
  “Hey；　forget　it。　Not　a　big　deal。　Listen；　now’s　not　really　a　great
  time　for　me。　Can　I　call　you　tomorrow？”　He　sounded　distracted；　his
  voice　taking　on　that　faraway　quality　of　someone　talking　from　an
  international　payphone　on　the　beach　of　a　tiny　village　across　the
  world。
  “Um；　sure。　But　is　everything　OK？　Will　you　just　quickly　tell　me　what
  you　wanted　to　talk　about　before？　I’ve　been　really　worried　that
  everything’s　not　OK。”
  He　was　quiet　for　a　moment　and　then　said；　“Yeah；　well　it　doesn’t　seem
  like　you　were　all　that　worried。　I　ask　you　one　time　to　call　me　at　a
  time　that’s　convenient　for　me—not　to　mention　that　your　boss　isn’t
  even　in　the　country　right　now—and　you　can’t　manage　to　do　that　until
  six　hours　after　the　fact。　Not　really　a　sign　of　someone　who’s
  genuinely　concerned；　you　know？”　He　stated　all　of　this　with　no
  sarcasm；　no　disapproval；　just　a　simple　summary　of　the　facts。
  I　was　twisting　the　phone　cord　around　my　finger　until　it　cut　off　the
  circulation　entirely；　making　the　knuckle　bulge　out　and　the　tip　turn
  white；　there　was　also　a　brief；　metallic　taste　of　blood　in　my　mouth；
  the　first　realization　that　I　had　been　gnawing　on　the　inside　of　my
  bottom　lip。
  “Alex；　it’s　not　that　I　forgot　to　call；”　I　lied　openly；　trying　to
  extricate　myself　from　his　nonaccusatory　accusation。　“I　simply　didn’t
  have　a　single　second　free；　and　since　it　sounded　like　something
  serious；　I　didn’t　want　to　call　just　to　have　to　hang　up　again。　I
  mean；　she　must　have　called　me　two　dozen　times　just　this　afternoon；
  and　each　one　is　an　absolute　emergency。　Emily　took　off　at　five　and
  left　me　all　alone　with　that　phone；　and　Miranda　just　didn’t　stop。　She
  just　kept　calling　and　calling　and　calling；　and　every　time　I　went　to
  call　you；　it’d　be　her　again　on　the　other　line。　I；　uh；　you　know？”
  My　rapid…fire　list　of　excuses　sounded　pathetic　even　to　me；　but　I
  couldn’t　stop。　He　knew　I　had　just　forgotten；　and　so　did　I。　Not
  because　I　didn’t　care　or　wasn’t　concerned；　but　because　all　things
  non…Miranda　somehow　ceased　to　be　relevant　the　moment　I　arrived　at
  work。　In　some　ways　I　still　didn’t　understand　and　certainly　couldn’t
  explain—never　mind　ask　anyone　else　to　understand—how　the　outside
  world　just　melted　into　nonexistence；　that　the　only　thing　remaining
  when　everything　else　vanished　wasRunway　。　It　was　especially
  difficult　to　explain　this　phenomenon　when　it　was　the　single　thing　in
  my　life　I　despised。　And　yet；　it　was　the　only　one　that　mattered。
  “Listen；　I　have　to　get　back　to　Joey。　He　has　two　friends　over　and
  they’ve　probably　torn　apart　the　entire　house　by　this　point。”
  “Joey？　Does　that　mean　you’re　in　Larchmont？　You　don’t　usually　watch
  him　on　Wednesdays。　Is　everything　OK？”　I　was　hoping　to　steer　him　away
  from　the　blatantly　obvious　fact　that　I　had　gotten　too　wrapped　up　at
  work　for　six　straight　hours；　and　this　seemed　like　the　best　path。
  He’d　tell　me　how　his　mom　had　gotten　held　up　at　work　accidentally　or
  perhaps　had　to　go　see　Joey’s　teacher　for　conferences　that　night　when
  the　regular　babysitter　canceled。　He’d　never　plain　of　course—that
  just　wasn’t　his　style—but　he’d　at　least　tell　me　what　was　going　on。
  “Yeah；　yeah；　everything’s　fine。　My　mom　just　had　an　emergency　client
  meeting　tonight。　Andy；　I　can’t　really　talk　about　it　now。　I　was　just
  calling　before　with　some　good　news。　But　you　didn’t　call　me　back；”　he
  said　flatly。
  I　wrapped　the　phone　cord；　which　had　begun　to　slowly　unravel；　so
  tight　around　my　pointer　and　middle　fingers　that　they　began　to
  pulsate。　“I’m　sorry”　was　all　I　could　manage；　because　even　though　I
  knew　he　was　right；　that　I　was　insensitive　not　to　have　called；　I　was
  too　worn　out　to　present　a　huge　defense。　“Alex；　please。　Please　don’t
  punish　me　by　not　telling　me　something　good。　Do　you　know　how　long
  it’s　been　since　anyone　has　called　with　good　news？　Please。　Give　me
  that　at　least。”　I　knew　he’d　respond　to　my　rational　approach；　and　he
  did。
  “Look；　it’s　not　that　exciting。　I　just　went　ahead　and　made　all　the
  arrangements　for　us　to　go　back　for　our　first　Homeing　together。”
  “You　did？　Really？　We’re　going？”　I’d　brought　it　up　a　couple　times
  before　in　what　I’d　liked　to　believe　had　been　an　offhand　and　casual
  way；　but　in　a　decidedly　non…Alex　fashion　he’d　been　hedging　on
  mitting　to　our　going　together。　It　was　really　early　to　be　planning
  any　of　it；　but　the　hotels　and　restaurants　in　Providence　were　always
  full　months　ahead　of　time。　I’d　dropped　it　a　few　weeks　earlier；
  figuring　that　we　would　figure　something　out；　find　a　place　to　stay
  somewhere。　But　somehow；　of　course；　he’d　picked　up　on　just　how　badly
  I　wanted　to　go　with　him；　and　he’d　figured　out　everything。
  “Yeah；　it’s　done。　We　have　a　rental　car—a　Jeep；　actually—and　I
  reserved　a　room　at　the　Biltmore。”
  “At　the　Biltmore？　You’re　kidding？　You　got　a　room　there？　That’s
  amazing。”
  “Yeah；　well；　you’ve　always　talked　about　wanting　to　stay　there；　so　I
  figured　we　should　try　it。　I　even　made　a　reservation　for　brunch　on
  Sunday　at　Al　Forno　for　ten　people；　so　we　can　each　gather　up　the
  troops　and　have　everyone　in　one　place　at　one　time。”
  “No　way。　You　did　all　of　this　already？”
  “Sure。　I　thought　you’d　be　really　psyched。　That’s　why　I　was　really
  looking　forward　to　telling　you　about　it。　But　apparently　you　were　too
  busy　to　call　back。”
  “Alex；　I’m　thrilled。　I　can’t　even　tell　you　how　excited　I　am；　and　I
  can’t　believe　you　figured　everything　out　already。　I’m　really　sorry
  about　before；　but　I　can’t　wait　for　October。　We’re　going　to　have　the
  best　time；　thanks　to　you。”
  We　talked　for　another　couple　minutes。　By　the　time　I　hung　up；　he
  didn’t　sound　mad　anymore；　but　I　could　barely　move。　The　effort　to　win
  him　back；　to　find　the　right　words　not　only　to　convince　him　that　I
  hadn’t　overlooked　him　but　also　to　reassure　him　that　I　was
  appropriately　grateful　and　enthusiastic　had　drained　the　last
  reserves　of　my　energy。　I　don’t　remember　getting　into　the　car　or　the
  ride　Home　or　whether　or　not　I　said　hello　to　John　Fisher…Galliano　in
  the　lobby　of　my　building。　Besides　a　bone…deep　exhaustion　that　hurt
  so　much　it　almost　felt　good；　the　only　thing　I　remember　feeling　at
  all　was　relief　that　Lily’s　door　was　shut　and　no　light　peeked　out
  from　under　it。　I　thought　about　ordering　in　some　food；　but　the　mere
  thought　of　locating　a　menu　and　a　phone　was　too　overwhelming—another
  meal　that　simply　wasn’t　happening。
  Instead；　I　sat　on　the　crumbling　concrete　of　my　furnitureless　balcony
  and　leisurely　inhaled　a　cigarette。　Lacking　the　energy　to　actually
  blow　the　smoke　out；　I　let　it　seep　from　my　mouth　and　hang　in　the
  still　air　around　me。　At　some　point　I　heard　Lily’s　door　open；　her
  footsteps　shuffling　along　the　hallway；　but　I　quickly　turned　out　my
  lights　and　sat　in　the　darkened　silence。　There　had　just　been　fifteen
  straight　hours　of　talking；　and　I　could　talk　no　more。
  13
  “Hire　her；”　Miranda　had　decreed　when　she　met　Annabelle；　the　twelfth
  girl　I’d　interviewed　and　one　of　only　two　that　I’d