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I picked up the phone and called Fran’s office. She had not come in to work, someone told me, nor had she called in. I tried her at home and the phone rang for a while before I gave up on it.

I decided it was just as well. Conversations with Fran had been difficult enough lately, even when I had good news. But I had to talk to someone, so I called Steve Adel. Of course you remember Steve, old college buddy and best friend in all the world. Best man at our wedding, you recall. Best man again, when I married Fran. He’s still in photography, has a loft of his own on Centre Street. He wasn’t around, though, and I sat there trying to think of someone else to call, and the phone rang, and although you might think I’d have known better, I answered it.

A collect call from Richmond, Virginia. There is only one person who calls me collect, and only one person I know in Richmond. Both of those people are you, Lisa. I accepted the call on behalf of Whitestone Publications—it was all I could do to compensate them for not having made use of my expense account. And there you were, as you perhaps remember.

You may remember the conversation as well, but I’m going to reproduce it here just for the sake of continuity.

LISA: Sweetie, it’s good to talk to you.

LARRY: You’ve eloped.

LISA: No, honey—

LARRY: You’ve moved up the wedding, though.

LISA: (Giggles deep in her throat. There was a time, you know, when I loved the sound of that giggle. There was also a time when I wanted to be a fireman when I grew up.) No, just the opposite, lover. Last night Wally and I called the whole thing off. No wedding bells for Lisa.

LARRY: No wedding bells.

LISA: ’Fraid not. Oh, it just wouldn’t have worked out, honey. Just no way. He’s a sweet guy and I do love him some, but as far as marriage goes, no, it just couldn’t have worked out for us.

LARRY: You don’t want to jump to such an important decision, Lisa.

LISA: Oh, be sure I gave it mucho thought, honey.

LARRY: I see.

LISA: But there is no way to make it work. Oh, we’re fine in bed, lover, but that’s just not enough to build a marriage around. As far as that goes, you and I were good in bed, Larry. I can still say that you were one of the best lovers I’ve ever had.

LARRY: I don’t know how to thank you.

LISA: Of course we were both a good deal younger then. You’ve probably learned a lot more since those days. God knows I have.

LARRY: I can imagine.

LISA: Can you? But as far as marriage goes, I think it can go without me. Honestly, darling, there are times when I think I’ll stay single for the rest of my life. So I’m afraid those alimony checks won’t stop next month after all, sugar. As a matter of fact—

LARRY: I was fired today.

LISA: Fired?

LARRY: Today. The magazine ceased publication, so they let me go. So as far as the checks are concerned—

LISA: Oh, I’m sure you’ll be able to keep them coming.

LARRY: You are, eh?

LISA: I have confidence in you. But this does change things, doesn’t it? You see, Daddy has been after me to increase the checks. He says with the way inflation is going, and the increase in the cost of living…

(I missed a lot of what followed there, Lisa. When you quote your father you talk the same legal bullshit he talks. But the gist of it seemed to be that the old bastard wanted you to petition the court for an increase of a third in your alimony payments.)

LISA: (Cont’d.) But of course this changes things. I still consider myself your friend, lovie, and what are friends for if not to be understanding in times of stress?

LARRY: Times of stress.

LISA: So we’ll just let it stand at $850 a month until you get things straightened out. I just hope you won’t be unemployed for too very long.

LARRY: So do I, actually.

LISA: Oh, just incidentally, I didn’t get this month’s check yet. I suppose it’s in the mail?

LARRY: You know how the mails are.

LISA: But I suppose it’ll get here within a day or two, don’t you think?

LARRY: You’ll get your money.

LISA: I’m sure I will,