It is as if she, too, is trapped by ice, Elizabeth says. A wall of ice, she says. And where is Pete? Slotnik says. Ben? She has been seeing Slotnik for a very long time. Once even, Slotnik came to dinner. It was entirely against protocol but there she was at the front door. Screw protocol, she had said. She ate roast chicken and admired the wood floors, the ones that dated back to Lincoln’s presidency.
I’m holding his hand, Elizabeth says. In this one we’re all holding hands.