Duma Key

"Does that happen often?" Kamen asked, and at the same moment Kathi asked, "So how's divorce treating you, Edgar?" They looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing.

I understood what they were laughing at - Edgar's Elvis moment - but to me it just seemed weird. The rooms of the Scoto began to look a little like chambers in an undersea grotto, and I realized I could paint it that way: undersea rooms with paintings on their walls, paintings that were being looked at by schooling peoplefish while Neptune's Trio burbled "Octopus's Garden."

Far too weird. I wanted Wireman and Jack - also not here yet - but even more, I wanted my people. Illy most of all. If I had them, maybe this would start to feel like reality again. I glanced toward the door.

"If you're looking for Pam and the girls, I expect they'll be right along," Kamen said. "Melinda had a problem with her dress and went up to change at the last minute."

Melinda, I thought. Of course, it would be Mel -

And that was when I saw them, threading their way through the crowd of artistic gawkers, looking very northern and out of place amid the tans. Tom Riley and William Bozeman III - the immortal Bozie - paced behind them in dark suits. They stopped to look at three of the early sketches, which Dario had set up near the door in a triptych. It was Ilse who saw me first. She cried " DADDY! " and then cut through the crowd like a PT boat with her sister just behind her. Lin was tugging a tall young man in her wake. Pam waved, and also started toward me.

I left Kamen, Kathi, and the Slobotniks, Angel still holding my drink. Someone began, "Pardon me, Mr. Freemantle, I wonder if I could ask-" but I paid no attention. In that moment all I could see was Ilse's glowing face and joyous eyes.

We met in front of the sign reading THE SCOTO GALLERY PRESENTS "THE VIEW FROM DUMA," PAINTINGS AND SKETCHES BY EDGAR FREEMANTLE. I was aware that she was wearing a powder-blue dress I had never seen before, and that with her hair up and what seemed like a swan's length of neck showing, she looked startlingly adult. I was aware of an immense, almost overpowering love for her, and gratitude that she felt the same for me - it was in her eyes. Then I was holding her.

A moment later, Melinda was there with her young man standing behind her (and above her - he was one long, tall helicopter). I didn't have an arm for her and her sister both, but she had one for me; she grabbed me and kissed the side of my face. " Bonsoir, Dad, congratulations!"

Then Pam was in front of me, the woman I had called a quitting birch not so long ago. She was wearing a dark blue pants suit, a light blue silk blouse, and a string of pearls. Sensible earrings. Sensible but good-looking low heels. Full Minnesota if ever I had seen it. She was obviously frightened to death by all the people and the strange environment, but there was a hopeful smile on her face just the same. Pam had been many things in the course of our marriage, but hopeless was never one of them.

"Edgar?" Pam asked in a small voice. "Are we still friends?"

"You better believe it," I said. I only kissed her briefly, but hugged her as thoroughly as a one-armed man can do it. Ilse was holding onto me on one side; Melinda had the other, squeezing hard enough to hurt my ribs, but I didn't care. As if from a great distance, I heard the room erupt in spontaneous applause.

"You look good," Pam whispered in my ear. "No, you look wonderful. I'm not sure I would have known you on the street."

I stepped back a little, looking at her. "You look pretty fine yourself."

She laughed, blushing, a stranger with whom I had once spent my nights. "Make-up covers a multitude of sins."

"Daddy, this is Ric Doussault," Melinda said.

" Bonsoir and congratulations, Monsieur Freemantle," Ric said. He was holding a plain white box. He now held it out. "From Linnie and me. Un cadeau. The gift?"

I knew what un cadeau was, of course; the real revelation was the exotic lilt his accent gave to my daughter's nickname. It made me understand in a way nothing else could that she was now more his than mine.