As late in the spring as it was, the weather that evening was ghastly. The sole benefit of it being that it further dropped attendance at the World’s Fair. It had been a simple matter of a phone call to arrange their reservation in a private corner of the Turf Trylon Cafe, one with a spectacular view of the rain-drenched Perisphere glittering in the fairground’s illumination, the Trylon’s spire towering just beyond it. Their trip to Los Angeles apparently had broken Evelyn of the annoying tendency to first search the menu by price, then by foods that appealed to her. Pleased with that development, Andrew studied her as she skimmed the dinner options while they waited for their cocktails to arrive. “Did you see something that appealed to you?” Her misty blue eyes lifted to his and Evelyn replied mildly, “Whatever you like will be fine.” Leaning forward on his elbo

Andrew watched Evelyn’s retreating figure, clinging to the last possible glimpse of her before she was swallowed by the flowing foot traffic on the New York sidewalks. He’d done an abominable job with his gratitude. Doubtless, as Evelyn had assured him, his children—he would have everything he’d need to care for them. In a day and a few short words, she’d soothed his wounded pride and panic, given him back his sense of control and accomplishment. And he’d tried to pay her for it. As if the making of a man—of a father— was a skill one could purchase. At least she’d enjoyed herself with the children. That was more than he could say of the last twenty-four hours with him. Andrew’s chest felt tight. Where had he gone wrong? He couldn’t set them back on the right path if he didn’t understand how they’d strayed from it. Peter poked his head out of the car door. “Father

“Peter,” Evelyn called, pausing with Sarah at her side. Trailing behind Andrew, they made their way beneath the Bulova clock through the Corona gate off 111th Street, and into the Transportation zone of the World’s Fair. “You have to keep up.”Pivoting sharply, Andrew’s keen eyes scanned the crowd, landing on his wayward child and with quick strides, he made his way to him, taking the wide-eyed boy by the hand. “Evelyn is absolutely right. The fairgrounds are far too big for you to get lost. You must stay with her. If you can’t do that, we all go home. Do you understand?”“Yes Father.”Removing his money clip from his inside jacket pocket, Andrew stopped their little group at the Avenue of Transportation before the Chrysler pavilion. He raised a finger, hailing a pedal cart. “I’ll be at the Administration building in my office working should you need anything,” he advised unnecessarily—they’d already worked out the logistics this morning on the drive over. On the pretense of catching u

At a knock at the door, Evelyn turned, and opening it, let a pajamaed Lily into her apartment.“Evie!” Her best friend’s voice was brimming with a strange mix of disapproval and panic. “What on earth!? You haven’t even washed!”With a folded towel, Evelyn mildly lifted the lid on the percolator, checking the color of the coffee. It was done, but she left the gas burner on beneath it for another minute, brewing it stronger. Lily was entirely too bright and chipper for this early in the morning. Particularly considering how poorly she herself had slept the last couple nights after witnessing that fiercely hostile altercation between Andrew and Charlotte James.Recognizing Evelyn needed far more help than usual today, Lily butted in at the stove. “Why don’t you sit down?” With an uncharacteristic kitchen efficiency mostly born of excitement, she worked her way through the artfully packed cabinets. Coffee mugs, counter. Pour. Boiler pan, sink, tap on. Teaspoon from the drawer, sugar from t

Abandoned, Evelyn tread the path to the subway moodily and even more quickly than she did normally with Lily—she hated to ride the subway alone. So much so in fact that she’d plan to walk rather than take it when she knew she’d have no other option besides go alone. What’s more, in the sweltering summer heat made worse by an uncharacteristic and lingering heatwave, it was miserable as well as somewhat frightening and disheartening—hot, sticky, the air close and heavy and reeking of the discomfort of all the overwarm bodies pressed together inside it. Boarding the train, she took a handloop as she and Lily usually did, flinching and turning the opposite direction when another passenger lifted his arm for the loop next to hers, and the pungent scent of him diffused into the air near her face. Around her, the train surged forward, the noisy rhythmic clacking along the tracks and the stifling temperature lulling her into drowsiness.