"I know."
"How do you know?"
"Kostas told me. This morning. She had a laugh she saved for when Vittorio was not in the room. He said it was bigger. He said she had it saved for me."
The table is quiet. Even Sofia is quiet.
Alessandro raises his glass.
"To Mom."
Matteo raises his. Valentina. Luca. Serafina. Clara. Nadia. Me. Sofia raises her water glass.
"To Mom."
We drink.
The empty chair is the empty chair. The laugh has come home.
Nadiaand I are on the terrace when it is dark.
The penthouse is lit behind us. Through the glass, I can see Alessandro at the table with Sofia on his lap. Clara in the kitchen. Matteo and Luca are arguing about a soccer team.
The terrace is cool. The city is lit. The Brooklyn Bridge to the south. The FDR has a string of lights along the river.
I have my arm around Nadia. She is leaning against me.
"You did it."
"What?"
"You made him laugh. On a Sunday."
I look at her.
I had not thought of it that way. I think of it now. I think of her in Kostas's study three weeks ago, before I came through the door. Saying out loud to a dying man:I am going to make him laugh in a kitchen that has more than a Chemex in it. I am going to make him laugh on a Sunday with people I have not yet introduced him to.
I kiss her. Full and slow. The kiss of a man who has just realized the woman beside him has been making deals with the universe on his behalf, and the universe has been paying, and he is going to spend the rest of his life paying her back.
She kisses me back.
I turn her in my arms so she is facing the city with me. I put my chin on her head. We look out at the FDR.
"Stay."
"Always."
We stand on the terrace until Clara opens the door and tells us that dessert is ready.
We go inside.
24
EPILOGUE: NADIA
Sunday. Six weeks later.
The drive out to Long Island is one I have made a thousand times in ten years as the consigliera. Today, it is the drive I am doing as the woman he asked to stay.
