Worst Fears Realized

okay. As far as decorating goes, I think we should buy a bed and some other necessities in the city, then furnish the place from the shops and antique shops around here. There are a lot of them.”
    “Sounds good to me.”
    “Something else.”
    “What?”
    “I’m worried about your show. I know it would be difficult, but do you think you could cancel, or at least, postpone it?”
    “Are youinsane ? Bergman has sent out a thousand invitations, at the very least.”
    “I drove past the gallery yesterday; it’s very exposed, opening right onto Madison Avenue. I’d feel better if it were on a side street.”
    “Stone,” she said, “understand me clearly: I amnot going to have my life ruled by some maniac who wants to harm us. I’ll tell you a story: I lived in London at the height of the IRA bombings a while back. I washaving dinner with my parents at a little restaurant in Chelsea, when someone set off a car bomb next door. We all hit the floor, of course, but when the smoke had cleared, my father ordered another cup of coffee to replace the one that had blown away, and he sat there and finished it. ‘Never,’ he said, ‘neverlet people like that cause you to alter your existence in the slightest.’ Since that time, I never have, and I never will. I wouldn’t have left my friends’ apartment if I hadn’t been so anxious to get into bed with you.”
    “Well, that was an awfully good reason,” Stone said.
    “So you understand that I will not cancel my show.”
    “I understand. I hope you understand that I’m going to do whatever I can to make it as safe a show as possible.”
    “I’ll be happy to introduce you to Bergman; the two of you can discuss that.”
    “I’ll be happy to meet him.”
    They reached the inn and went upstairs to dress for dinner.
    “It was an awfully nice day,” Sarah said, as she ran her bath.
    “I suppose there are worse ways to see a place than with a real-estate agent who knows her stuff.”
    She got into the tub. “Join me?”
    “You betcha.” He climbed into the tub with her, but his mind was on the Bergman Gallery.

23
    MR. AND MRS. HOWARD MENZIES ARRIVEDat their Park Avenue apartment building for the first time and got out of a taxi. Mrs. Menzies was an attractive woman in her early fifties, dressed in a Chanel suit and very good shoes, her graying hair carefully coifed. Mr. Menzies was perhaps two or three years older than his new wife and was dressed in a gray, pin-striped suit that was, though of good quality, a little out of fashion.
    “Oh, I’m so nervous,” Mrs. Menzies said. “I hope you’re going to like it.”
    “My dear,” Mr. Menzies replied, “put your mind at rest. I have the utmost confidence in your taste and judgment.”
    The doorman greeted Mrs. Menzies warmly.
    “Oh, Jeff,” she said, “I want you to meet Mr. Menzies; he was abroad when we bought the apartment, and he’s seeing it today for the first time.”

    “How do you do, Mr. Menzies,” Jeff said, shaking hands. “I’m sure you’re going to love the building.”
    “I’m sure I will, too, Jeff,” Mr. Menzies replied, rewarding the doorman with a smile.
    “Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you,” Jeff said.
    “Darling,” Mrs. Menzies half whispered, “Jeff has beenvery helpful with our moving in.”
    “Thank you so much for helping my wife, Jeff,” Mr. Menzies said warmly, slipping a hundred-dollar bill into the doorman’s hand.
    They took the elevator to a high floor and got out. Mrs. Menzies slipped a key into her husband’s hand. “You open the door,” she said nervously.
    “Of course, my dear.” Menzies unlocked the door, pushed it open, and allowed his wife to precede him into the apartment. He was immediately struck by the warmth, comfort, and beauty that his wife had brought to the decorating of the apartment. He followed her from room to room, admiring what she had chosen and occasionally spotting an old, familiar piece of furniture or a picture that he had chosen years before. The apartment was only six rooms, but perfect for a childless, middle-aged couple. They had views across Park Avenue to the park and down the avenue. “It must be beautiful at Christmas,” he said, “with all the trees lining the avenue.”
    “I’m told it is,” she replied. “We’ll have to wait a few months to find out.”
    He took both her hands in his. “My dear, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for the way you have put the place