When Jack came back to the apartment after having lunch with a friend, and doing some errands after their trip, Kate was in her home office with the door closed, writing. He had gone as close as he could to all three bomb sites, to observe the damage. It was overwhelming to see what a small group of crazed anarchists had done to their own people and country. And it had brought tears to his eyes too. He wanted to tell Kate what he’d seen but found the door to her office closed and, when he looked inside, she was sitting at her computer with an intense expression. She looked up when she heard him come in. He was about to sit down in a comfortable battered leather chair, but she held up a hand.
“I’m writing. I’ll be out in a few minutes.” He retreated quietly, poured himself a drink, and sat down, remembering the images of the devastated buildings, thinking about all the lives that had been lost or irreparably damaged. He waited for Kate to join him, but minutes turned to hours, and he fell asleep on the couch with the TV on after his second drink.
Kate found him there at nine o’clock when she finally emerged, shocked to realize how late it was. But what she wanted to write had taken off like an express train and she’d lost all track of time. She sat down across from where Jack lay. A few minutes later, he woke up on his own. He looked disoriented for a minute, and then sat up and smiled.
“I’m really sorry. I had an idea today, and I got lost in the story,” she told him.
“Your book?” he asked.
“A new one. About a woman who makes a journey to find herself, and all the things that happen to her along the way.” It was interwoven with her motivations to meet her father, and the discoveries her journey had spawned in her. She wanted to get it down on paper while the feelings were fresh. “Are you hungry? I’m sorry it got so late.” She wanted to go back and write some more after dinner, but didn’t say that. It was after nine by then, and she was in full creative mode. She liked writing at night.
“I could eat something. What do we have?” he said as he stretched. He had slept for three hours, with the help of two glasses of scotch. He had waited for her to make dinner or order takeout. He never took the initiative to cook for them or for himself. He expected it to appear, like a baby bird waiting for its mother to bring home the worms.
“I went to the grocery store after I saw my mother today, but I didn’t buy much. Some cold chicken, lettuce, the usual, nothing special. We can have cold chicken and a salad, if you want,” she suggested. She had forgotten all about dinner while she was writing. She didn’t like to cook.
“Sounds great,” he said, and followed her into the kitchen. She glanced at him a few times while she got the meal together. She wished he had more energy about life, a deeper hunger, a greater passion. He was easy to get along with because he was neutral in his view of life. He waited for life to happen, and went along with what she did, but he never initiated anything. He was like the old expression “pushing a rope”. He was bendable and flexible, with no strength or resistance of his own. It made him easy to live with, but not exciting. He took what life doled out to him, without taking a hand in it himself.
“How was your mother?” he asked her politely when they sat down to eat.
“She’s okay. It must have been incredibly traumatic to be here that night. I saw the Empire State Building from her terrace. It’s devastating.”
“I saw it today, and went to the other sites too. It’s unbelievable.” He was quiet for a minute, thinking about it.
“We talked a little bit about Felicity getting engaged last week. It’s ridiculous. She’s much too young. He’s already been married and knows what he’s getting into at his age. He has a child, and wants more. I can’t see her having a baby anytime soon, or giving up her modeling career.”
“Do you think he wants her to?” Jack looked surprised. It hadn’t occurred to him.
“He will eventually, if they decide to have more kids. She can’t fly around the world all the time, doing photo shoots, with a bunch of kids and a husband at home. She’ll never see them. At twenty-three, she has no idea what real life looks like.” She paused then, took a breath, and decided to leap in. “What are you thinking about us these days?” she said to him, trying to sound casual about it. But her younger sister getting engaged had woken her up to her own age, and the reality that she and Jack had been drifting for four years. Things were no different from when he’d first moved in three years before. He was eking out a small living with freelance writing, tutoring jobs, and teaching the occasional workshop, and not having to pay rent or expenses living with her. He seemed to have no plan to do anything else. He was comfortable as he was, and the status quo in their relationship suited him.
“What do you mean?” He looked blank at her question. “What am I supposed to think? I’m very happy, Kate. Things always go smoothly with us.” Because she never complained or expected anything from him. They were like old married people, or roommates with occasional sex thrown in, and it had become more occasional with the passing years. She made no demands on him on any front, mostly because she was never sure what she wanted herself, so it felt safest not to move at all. Meeting her father had changed something and subtly turned the dial. Kate wanted more out of life than just existing or drifting. She wanted to live life, to write a book and actually finish it, or give it up, or get a job, or get married to the right man, and have a child one day. At thirty-seven it was worth thinking about, and worth taking a more active role in her own life. Jack was passive about everything. He didn’t want to make waves and risk what he had, and Kate was a great deal for him. “Is something wrong?” he asked her. He knew she was jealous of her sister and suspected that Felicity getting engaged had set her off. He wanted to duck and cover in the meantime.
“No, but sometimes it’s good to know where we’re headed, and not just let the ship drift with no direction.”
“We have direction. You want to write a book, and it looks like you’re getting started on it in earnest. That’s huge!”
“I want more than a book to show for my life, Jack. That would be great, but it’s not enough. I’m thirty-seven. Do we want to get married? And have kids? Or have kids and not get married? What’s our plan? What do you see on the horizon for us?” She had never put it to him that bluntly, but she felt braver ever since the trip to Africa. Seeing her father had freed her to move forward, she felt more grown-up and adult, with needs of her own.
“Why do we need a plan? You know my income doesn’t allow me to consider marriage, for the moment, and if I take a job, it will interfere with my freelance work, and stifle my writing. You’ve never been keen on marriage, you told me so yourself, right in the beginning. And I’m almost too old for kids now. I’m forty-two, and I can’t see myself chasing a kid with a ball at fifty. Why is marriage so important?”
“Maybe because I’m getting older, and I don’t want to make choices by not making them and regretting it one day. It’s true, I never have been sure about marriage, but maybe I feel differently about it now. If I want to have kids, I need to think about it one of these days. You can always change your mind later about having kids. As a woman, I can’t. I’ve always hated the image of a biological clock ticking loudly, like a time bomb waiting to go off, but maybe it’s more real than I want to believe. I guess I want to know what you’re thinking about us, before I wake up another four years from now and nothing has changed, and still not knowing what I want.”
Jack was pensive for a moment and looked at Kate. “I love you. Isn’t that enough?”
“I don’t know,” she said clearly, without apology. “Maybe not, after four years.”
“We’ve only lived together for three,” he pointed out, silently hating Felicity for upsetting the apple cart for him, by getting engaged at twenty-three. “What about if we get engaged?” he suggested, with what he thought was a stroke of genius. “That would make us more official,” or seem that way, Kate thought.
“Will I be introducing you as my fiancé when I’m ninety?” she said, only half joking, but it did seem like an improvement of sorts. “I guess we could do that. It would make things more real. Would you want to plan a wedding and the whole deal?” She felt odd forcing the issue, and what he had said wasn’t entirely reassuring, although it did mean he was planning for a future with her, if that was what she wanted. Everything always seemed so vague with him, like chasing mercury across the floor, or a greased marble egg, as her grandfather used to say.
“Why don’t we just enjoy being engaged first? We don’t have to rush into planning anything yet. I wouldn’t want a big wedding anyway. Would you? I’m sure Felicity and Blake will go crazy with that. That’s not my style or yours. I’d be very happy with just a small ceremony at the church near us in Vermont, and our families there.” He didn’t have a lot of friends, and he and Kate had a small social circle, mainly made up of other would-be writers they had met at the workshops they attended in the summer. “I wouldn’t want a big wedding,” he said again, and she nodded. She’d never really thought about it before, and the picture he painted was very restrained, but she had to admit, it suited both them and the way they lived. “Does that make you feel better?” he said, as he leaned over and kissed her, and she smiled at him.
“I guess it does.” It was some kind of forward movement, and commitment, which was what she was seeking. Progress, without which their relationship had begun to seem stale. Nothing ever changed. He hadn’t mentioned any major career plans, and she knew he didn’t have any. The status quo on that front suited him too, with him having minor jobs, and Kate paying for everything. It worked well for him, and she could afford it.
“So, we’re engaged now,” he said firmly, as though they had reached a major decision. She wasn’t sure they had, but at least she knew that he’d marry her eventually, if that was what she wanted. He had seemed equally happy without any formal commitment, but he made it clear that he was amenable to marriage at some later date, with a very small Vermont wedding. It didn’t feel like a proposal, and it certainly wasn’t romantic, but he apparently intended to spend the future with her.
They went to bed that night and didn’t make love. Nothing more was said about the engagement, and he said he had a headache as she got into bed. She wasn’t entirely sure if he had just humored her, or if he actually wanted to marry her, or saw it as an obligation of some kind to maintain the status quo of their living arrangement. By the time she fell asleep, she had a headache too.
Kate spoke to her mother the next day, and mentioned their plans to her. “Jack and I got engaged last night,” she said, sounding blasé about it, and Kezia was surprised.
“You did? So I’m going to be planning two weddings now?” The thought of it was daunting, if they both wanted real weddings, and it was obvious that Felicity and Blake did. They were all excited, and Felicity was already talking about the dress, and which designers’ collections she wanted to look at. She wanted Kezia to come with her. They were talking about two or three hundred people at the wedding, maybe even four hundred. Blake had a huge number of friends and acquaintances. Felicity had friends from school, from work, from all her travel, photographers she was fond of, the editors of Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar. The list was going to be endless. Kezia was already nervous about it, and now Kate wanted to get married too. Kezia was suspicious about how their engagement had happened. She was sure that Kate’s sudden willingness to marry was in competition with her sister. In that sense, Kezia wasn’t surprised at all. “How did that come about?” she questioned Kate.
“We were talking about it last night, and Jack wanted to get engaged,” Kate said calmly. She didn’t say that it had been a compromise position, as a slow prelude to marriage, or a proper proposal, which it wasn’t.
“When are you thinking of doing the wedding?” Kezia asked, feeling panicked. Organizing two weddings at once was going to be an enormous undertaking, and she had no one to help her. She didn’t have an assistant in New York. She had one in San Francisco when she lived there, because she had a social life, and served on several boards. She didn’t need anyone in New York, until now. She wondered if she should hire one for the weddings.
“We’re not in a hurry, and Jack doesn’t want a big wedding,” Kate said, and immediately calmed her mother’s fears. Kezia’s voice had suddenly gone high and squeaky at Kate’s announcement.
“Is that what you want?” Kezia asked her. “Usually, it’s the bride who decides what kind of wedding she wants, and most men go along with it, even if it’s not their vision. Do you want a small wedding?” She was defending Kate’s interests. She didn’t sound excited about the engagement.
“I don’t mind. He wants to do it in Vermont.” It sounded sad to Kezia, but she didn’t comment. It followed the lifestyle Kate had adopted for the past four years, and the bohemian, would-be writers’ groups she and Jack met at writing workshops. It didn’t sound exciting to Kezia, but she reminded herself that it wasn’t her wedding. She still believed that the plan had been provoked by Kate’s competitiveness with her sister, more than any profound desire to marry. And Kate didn’t sound excited to be marrying Jack.
“Did he give you a ring?” Kezia inquired, although she didn’t expect him to compete with Blake on that score. The ring Blake had given Felicity was unnecessarily large. Kate wouldn’t expect something like that, and Jack wouldn’t be able to afford it.
As her mother asked, Kate woke up to the fact that they hadn’t even thought about it, and Kate knew Jack didn’t have the money to pay for even a modest ring and she didn’t want to buy one for herself.
“Not yet,” she said to Kezia. “I’m sure he will. He’s not much of a shopper, and he knows nothing about jewelry.”
“Maybe he can get a pretty antique ring. They’re usually much less expensive. I’m sure he’ll figure it out. Well, best wishes, darling,” she said with a sigh. “Now I have two brides. Should we start shopping for a dress?”
“I don’t even know when yet, or what time of year. Let’s wait,” Kate said.
“Felicity is thinking next spring, May or June, which seems a long way away, but it’s less than a year from now, and the time will fly. We have to figure out a venue. I think the Frick museum would be nice.”
“It’ll cost you a fortune, Mom. They require extra security to protect the art. Someone I know got married there. Her father was in shock. I forget how much it was, but it was a lot.”
“We’ll see when we start looking at venues. It would certainly be beautiful, it’s a lovely setting, right out of a movie set, and very elegant.” It suited the couple. After the conversation, Kate realized that her lucky little sister had done it again. She always won. She had the star father, now she’d have the star husband, and their mother would give her a spectacular wedding. And Kate would seem like the poor cousin again, this time with a tiny wedding in Vermont, while Felicity made the big splash that suited who she was.
Before they hung up, Kezia had invited her to dinner, with Jack. She said she wanted to introduce her and Felicity to some new people she’d met in the building. She said they were all very interesting. She wanted to do it that week, maybe on the weekend. Kate said they were free, and she was curious about who her mother was going to invite. She had only lived there for two weeks, but a lot had happened. She wondered if Jack would go with her. He didn’t like heights, but he liked meeting important people, which would probably override his fears.
The papers were full these days of the background stories of the seven surviving men who had carried out the terrorist attack in New York, and were part of the group of anarchists who had done a legendary amount of damage and killed thousands of their fellow Americans, supposedly to support a better way of life than the one they had, which was hard to listen to, and even harder to believe. And they had survived, while thirty-eight of their cohorts and their leader had died in their capture. They considered Filo Banks a martyr to their cause. Kezia still couldn’t believe that the entire event had been created, built, and delivered by fellow Americans. They had each been assigned federal prosecutors. It had taken massive amounts of security at their arraignment to keep anyone from attacking them when they came in and out of court. They were easily the most hated people in the country at the moment, and the federal prosecutors’ office was well aware that, without the help of their extremely vocal informant, previously a member of the Enforcers himself, they would never have been able to identify them. Had Filo Banks not betrayed and banished him, he would never have talked and would have remained one of them. Instead, he had come forward, exposed their plan and their future plans in Washington, D.C. He had gotten even with Banks.
The police and the guards in federal jail were also aware that any time the surviving seven men were exposed in any way, they were more than likely to be shot and killed. Just not on my watch, the federal prosecutor admitted to the police commissioner, Homeland Security, and the FBI. He didn’t want to lose any more men than had already been lost to defend sick, vicious criminals like the Enforcers. The youngest of them, the nineteen-year-old computer genius, was one of the survivors. His brother had died. They all had rap sheets an arm long with burglaries, assaults, kidnapping, one with murder, others with drug-related charges, all manner of violence, involving firearms and explosives, and they had served in the military before turning to a life of crime. They were being held in confinement two to a cell in a maximum-security section of the federal jail in Washington, D.C., for interrogation and were due to be returned to New York, where they would ultimately be tried. Their lawyers were requesting a change of venue for the trial, claiming that there was nowhere in the state of New York, or the country, where they would be able to get a fair trial. The judge had not granted the change of venue at the arraignment. Everyone was talking about them, and the trial was set currently for the following May. There would doubtless be many continuances by the time it actually went to trial. If they were found guilty or pleaded, it was a death sentence trial. The charges were “causing death by using a weapon of mass destruction.” In fact, no punishment would be adequate for what they had done and the lives they had taken, and the people they had severely maimed and injured and would survive. Many of the victims were still critically injured and dying.
When Kezia called Felicity to invite her to dinner with Blake, she mentioned Kate’s engagement, and that she and Jack were coming too.
“That’s weird,” Felicity said when her mother told her about the engagement. “She always says she doesn’t know if she wants to get married, or if she wants kids. And now she gets engaged as soon as I do. When’s the wedding?”
“They haven’t set the date, and they want a small family wedding in Vermont.”
“That doesn’t sound like much fun,” Felicity commented.
“It’s what Jack wants.” Kezia was worried about both her daughters. One seemed to be marrying too young to a man with a jet-set life, a marriage which could turn out not to be solid, and the other one was marrying a man no one liked, and Kezia wasn’t even sure how much Kate loved him. They never seemed like a warm, affectionate couple to her. Kate never seemed to be passionate about him. She was comfortable, which didn’t seem like enough to Kezia. She thought Felicity had a better chance for success with Blake, despite her age, than Kate with Jack. But they had to make their own choices, and Kezia hoped they were the right ones. She had strong reservations about Jack. “What about dinner?” she asked Felicity. “Can you make it?”
“Sure, Mom, it sounds like fun. We don’t have any plans yet. And I’m moving out to the Hamptons soon. Blake is going to try working from out there, and only coming into the city a couple of times a week.” It sounded heavenly to Kezia. She confirmed the date with Felicity and hung up a minute later.
The others were easy to reach. Louise answered her phone and said she was free and delighted to come. Paige was equally so, and said Greg was still in town. After that, Kezia called Sam. She hadn’t seen him in two days, and suspected he was very busy again now that the lockdown was over.
“How’ve you been?” He sounded happy to hear her. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve been busy. Catching up with my girls. Both of them are getting married. They just got engaged. Apparently, it’s contagious.” She had wondered if it would be, given Kate’s long-standing jealousy of her sister.
She invited him to dinner, and he accepted too and sounded pleased. He had missed their nightly conversations on the terrace, and so had Kezia. Once her daughters got back to New York, she had spoken to them on the phone every day, and she still had a lot to do relating to her move and everything that would be arriving. All other life had stopped entirely right after the attack, during the lockdown, and was moving again now.
She realized that it was odd that she missed someone she barely knew, but the days they had spent together had been so intense and emotional, particularly the night of the attacks, that it felt strange when they went back to their own lives. He said he had just read a novel he liked and was exploring the possibility of buying the rights to it for a movie. What he did sounded a great deal more interesting than what she’d been doing. Ever since the attacks, she’d been considering the refresher course in current nursing practices and techniques she’d need if she wanted to start nursing again. It had been gnawing at her. He asked her if she’d done anything about checking out classes. He had been vastly impressed by her nursing abilities the night of the attacks.
“I haven’t had time, I’m still busy with the move. But I’m wondering if I’ve been out of it for too long. Maybe my nursing days are over.” She had certainly thought they were, but now she wasn’t so sure following her volunteer work after the attacks. Maybe it was just the drama and emotions that made her think she should go back to nursing.
“It’s never too late to do something you love,” he said, and she smiled. She liked his practical philosophies and his straightforward way of thinking. If you loved something, you should do it. She wondered if it really was as simple as that. “Thank you for inviting me to dinner.” She could easily imagine that, as a major star, he was invited to countless exciting events much more enticing than a simple dinner on her terrace.
“I wanted you to meet my girls. Louise is coming too, and Greg and Paige.” She was less excited about Greg coming than seeing Paige again. She had sounded happy to come.
“I’m looking forward to it,” he said, and she smiled.
The night of the dinner, Kezia wore white linen slacks and a matching tunic. Her blonde hair was long down her back, and she had a tan from the days she and Sam had spent on the terrace together, when the city was shut down. She wore small diamond studs, which sparkled on her ears. Sam was the first to arrive and rang the doorbell like a proper guest, and Kezia smiled when she saw him.
“You could have come the back way, you know, by the terrace.” He returned her smile and followed her into the nearly empty living room.
“I didn’t want to shock your daughters, or presume anything.” The doorbell rang shortly after, while Sam opened a bottle of wine for her. She’d had summer food sent in from a great restaurant. There was lobster salad and sushi, and an assortment of cold meals, and cold pasta salads, set up on a buffet table in the dining room, and she had enough chairs so they could all sit on the terrace. She had kept it very informal, but she knew the food would be good. There was French red and white wine.
She opened the door to Louise while Sam removed the cork to let the red wine breathe. Kezia had said dinner was casual, and Louise had worn white jeans and a white T-shirt, which was a change from her usual black skirts and jeans. Greg and Paige arrived a few minutes later. They were all happy to see each other, and the latest news about the terrorists who had attacked New York took up the first minutes of the conversation. The city was badly scarred and would be for a long time, and everyone was shocked by the men who had done it. Young Americans killing their own in the name of anarchy. Some of them heroes of the war in Iraq.
Felicity was the first of Kezia’s daughters to arrive, with Blake. They were a breath of fresh air, like a summer breeze. Felicity looked spectacular in a short white summer dress, and she gravitated toward Sam with ease, and chatted with him about his latest film. He recognized her face from magazine covers, and they had a lively conversation about the book he had just read and wanted to buy. She had read it and loved it too, and Blake knew who Greg was and enjoyed talking to him, while Paige and Louise had a quiet conversation, and Kezia circulated in their midst making sure they all had wine. They were helping themselves, which Kezia had preferred to having waiters serving them. She answered the door when Kate and Jack arrived. Kate looked pretty in a pale blue sundress with her dark hair swept up in a loose bun. Jack was quick to interrupt Felicity’s conversation with Sam and tried to dominate it immediately. He was so impressed by the guests, he paid no attention to the view or the fact that he was on the sixtieth floor. Sam was polite and went to help Kezia in order to escape him. He picked up one of the bottles of wine to do refills on the terrace.
“Thank you for helping.” She smiled at him. He looked happy and as though he was having a good time.
“Your daughters are gorgeous, and fun to talk to. Felicity and I are both crazy about the book I told you about. She’s a terrific young woman. What’s her fiancé like? Do you approve?” he asked in an undertone.
“Yes, but she’s too young to get married,” Kezia said in a low voice no one could overhear.
“That’s a very impressive sparkler on her left hand. I’d say he’s very serious about her.” Kezia nodded agreement.
“I wish he’d waited,” she commented.
Sam made a point of talking to Kate after he refilled people’s wine glasses, and found her interesting to talk to about her recent trip to Mozambique. He’d been on location to make a film there years before. He loved the people and the place. The conversation was lively all through dinner, and Louise had them laughing about a shoot she’d done recently with a famously irreverent but brilliant playwright. Despite the dark specter of the Empire State Building in the distance, they managed to talk about a multitude of subjects, and not the July Fourth attack for the entire evening. The subject finally came up again at the end of the night, when Sam mentioned that he and Kezia had volunteered at Hudson Yards together, and she had been amazing.
Both her daughters looked shocked when he said it.
“You went down there?” Kate said to her mother, and Kezia nodded.
“They put out a call for volunteers on the news channels, particularly medical, and I still have my license. We were both there all night.” Sam didn’t explain that he had carried body bags for hours, but he and Kezia exchanged a glance, thinking of it.
“You didn’t tell us you did that,” Kate said quietly, stunned by her mother.
Everyone stayed late and enjoyed the evening, and Sam left politely just before the others, down to the lobby and back up in his private elevator. Kezia talked to her daughters for a few more minutes and both of them said how much they liked him.
“You have to bring him out to Southampton, Mom,” Felicity said. “He’s really a nice guy. He just acts like a regular person.”
He and Kate had talked about writing and her trip to Africa. Blake thought Louise was fascinating. The atmosphere had been warm and lively all night, and the girls thanked their mother when they left. After they were gone, Kezia wandered out to the terrace with her glass of wine, sat down on one of the deck chairs, and relaxed. The dinner had been a big success. It was the first time she had entertained in her new home. She was lying there thinking about it when Sam’s voice came through the hedge divider.
“Everybody gone?” he asked, and she laughed.
“Yes, come on over.” He squeezed through and came and sat down in the chair next to her.
“That was a great evening. Your daughters are terrific. And Blake is a very enterprising guy. He’s crazy about your daughter.”
“I know, she’s crazy about him too. Unfortunately, Jack isn’t a prize, and now Kate’s engaged to him.”
“They don’t seem as close as the other two,” he said, trying to be moderate in his comment.
“I don’t know why Kate hangs on to him, and now she’s going to marry him. He’s so full of himself. He drives me crazy.” Sam didn’t think Kate seemed enamored with Jack either. They had ignored each other for most of the evening, and there had been no visible signs of affection, whereas Blake and Felicity held hands and he kissed her several times.
“Maybe she won’t go through with it,” Sam commented.
“I hope not,” Kezia said, and they lay looking up at the stars together, quiet for a few minutes.
“That’s the best part of the evening.” He smiled at her. “Being able to talk about it afterward.” She smiled at him. She and Andrew had done that too. “I’ve missed that. Audrey used to fill me in on all the gossip of the evening after the guests left.”
“It was a nice group tonight,” Kezia said happily.
“Your daughters added all the youth and spice to it. Kate says she’s writing a book.”
“She’s been doing that for years. Maybe this time she’ll finish it.”
“I told her she should call my agent. They have a literary section. If she’s serious about it, she needs an agent.” It touched Kezia that he had done that. They sat together for half an hour and then he got up to go back to his apartment. He looked sorry to leave when he said good night. “Would you have dinner with me on Friday?” he asked her hesitantly.
“I’d love that,” she said, and he looked pleased, kissed her on the cheek, and then left, through the hedge, back to his apartment.
She left all the dishes and glasses for the cleaning crew the next day, undressed, and got into bed. She was thinking of Sam, and what a nice evening it had been, and doing the recap with him afterward. She loved talking to him and was looking forward to Friday night. In his apartment, Sam was smiling too. It was exactly the kind of night he enjoyed, a small gathering of good friends. Kezia was rapidly becoming his best friend, and he liked her daughters.