As I write, Lauren and the children are flying to London from Boston. She could have chosen Los Angeles, but did not. By way of thanks, as it were, I will go to Heathrow to welcome them back. There will be much hugging and kissing. There will be much crying, too. I can see everything quite clearly, as if in a dream. But this is precisely where my foresight suddenly abandons me.

Addendum (November 4, 2000)

To my surprise, Dorian and Maya did not run up to me when they saw me at Heathrow. Clinging to Lauren, they kept repeating: “Mom, what’s dad doing here?” They were smiling at me, though. And so was Lauren.