“I’ve wondered what would happen if I ever saw you again, if you just walked back into my life again, or if we met on the street. I didn’t look...for you because I didn’t know your name.”“Robert”, he said. “Hi, Robert”, she said, and stepped across toward him, holding out her hand, “it’s nice to meet you.” And then the most extraordinary thing happened. A thing that Robert had never expected, had not seen coming, and had never even fantasized about, after learning of the pregnancy. She. Gasp, an American wine in London? I hand you a glass, then take mine. Still holding hands, we raise the glasses to toast this romance, then we turn to face Jeanne and raise our glasses to this beautiful Madonna. We sip. Not bad. But good because this night is good. The air is not cool, not hot. Just right. We kick off our shoes. The room darkens as we drink, and walk around the bare room, looking at Degas’ self-portrait as an old man. The poor soul, cursed with failing sight, he drew with. More

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