with your Dad. That way we can both brag about you. Incredible, isn't

she?" Drew began as Emma turned away.

She very nearly felt incredible. She'd never expected so many people,

or much interest in her work. There was a little voice that asked her

if she really thought they'd come to see her work, or her father and his

mates. She did her best to ignore it.

She did see P.M. It was obvious he was no longer running away from Lady

Annabelle. In fact, he seemed to be having the time of his life. She

was dressed in emerald-green leather and snakeskin boots dyed

canary-yellow. Her frizzy red hair shot out like shock waves. And

after a ten-minute conversation, Emma realized the woman was completely

and totally in love.

It was nice, Emma decided. P.M. deserved that kind of devotion. That

kind of, well, tin.

People came and went, but more came to linger. Runyun was very cleverly

playing a Devastation retrospective through the speakers. She saw, with

some astonishment, the discreet blue sticker beneath more than a dozen

of her prints. Sold, she thought.

Trapped in a corner by a pretentious little man who wanted to discuss

form and texture, she spotted Marianne. "Excuse me," she began. But

before she could make her escape, her old roommate was bearing down on

her.

"Here's the star of the evening." She gave Emma a big, whopping kiss.

"You," she said and pulled Emma toward her and into a cloud of Chanel,

"have done it. A long way from Saint Catherine's, pal."

"Yeah." Emma squeezed her eyes tight. It had taken only that to make it

all seem real at last.

"Look who I found."

"Bev!" Emma moved out of Marianne's arms, and into Bev's. "I didn't

think you'd be able to make it."

"I wouldn't have missed it for anything."

"We walked in together and I recognized her," Marianne explained. "We've

been having a marvelous time complimenting you while we shoved through

the crowd. This is wild." She s.n.a.t.c.hed one of the few remaining canap6s

from the table. "You know that shot of me in the loft, wearing a paint

smock and rugby socks? Some gorgeous man just bought it. I'm going to

go see if he'd like a chance at the real thing."

"It's no trouble seeing why you love her," Bev commented as Marianne

maneuvered through the groups of people. "So, how does it feel?"

"Incredible. Tfrrifying." She pressed a hand to her jumpy stomach, but

it wasn't nerves as much as excitement now. "I've been trying to get

back to the ladies' room for an hour to have a good cry. I'm so glad

you're here." Then she saw Brian, standing a few feet away. "Dad's here.

Will you speak to him?"

Bev had to turn her head only inches to see him. She twisted her

evening bag over and over in her hand. After all these years, she

thought, it was still there. Everything she'd felt was still there.

"Of course." She said it lightly. It was safe here, in a crowd. On

Emma's night. At least they could share their pleasure for Emma.

He walked toward them. Could it be as difficult for him, Bev wondered,