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“Yep, it’s way better,” then cleaned them on the tail of his shirt.
    “You’ll scratch them,” Sarah said.
    “Only the finest Old Navy fabric,” David said.
    “I gave you handkerchiefs for your birthday. What did you do with them?”
    David couldn’t answer that one. Presumably, they were somewhere in his dresser, under the pajamas he never wore, or the old track jerseys he had retired. But he liked having Sarah ask, probably as much as she liked nagging.
    When Sarah finally told Emme it was time for bed, David helped her up off the sofa. Sarah had always been tall and slender, like her brother, but it was like raising a wraith now. She hugged David with frail arms. “We never asked about your work,” she said. “Weren’t you giving a lecture soon?”
    “Yep, and it went fine.”
    “Oh, I wish I could have come,” she said.
    “Next time,” he said, though the very thought of having family there made him more nervous than ever.
    “What was it about?”
    “We got a new copy of Dante, very old and very beautiful. I talked about that.” He never went into much detail about his work; he knew that Sarah was proud of his accomplishments, and that was enough. While he had always been the dreamer, the scholar, she had been the practical one. She hadn’t had much choice.
    “I’ll drive you back,” Gary said, stretching his arms above his head and rising from his armchair. “You’ll freeze to death waiting for the El.”
    “I’ll be okay,” David said, though he suspected Gary wanted the chance to talk in private; he often used these car trips to confide in David about what was really happening with Sarah.
    They got into his Lexus SUV, with all the trimmings, and even though David knew the car was politically incorrect—a flashy gas guzzler—he had to admit the ride was great and the heated seat was mighty comfortable. Gary had once explained that he needed to lease a new one every year or two because he shuttled clients around in it, and a real-estate broker who looked like he was down on his luck soon would be.
    “You ever going to spring for another car?” Gary joshed as they headed south on Sheridan Road. It was a running joke that David had no wheels.
    “Maybe,” David said. “Especially since it looks like I might get a promotion.”
    “Really? To what?”
    “Director of Acquisitions.” David seldom liked to discuss such things until they were in the bag, but he knew that Gary would mention it to Sarah, and maybe it would give her a little pleasure. And after the warm reception for the lecture, he felt that Dr. Armbruster, who had hinted about it already, might come across at last.
    “So you’ll be swimming in dough!” Gary said.
    “Yeah, right. Just as soon as I pay off my loans. And my rent, by the way, just went up.”
    “I guess it helped to have that girlfriend of yours split it with you,” Gary said, fumbling to remove a packet of Dentyne from the console between the seats. “You want one?”
    “No thanks,” David said. He knew that what Gary really wanted was a cigarette, but he had given up smoking the day Sarah had been diagnosed. Now he tried to make do with gum and Nicorette. “Linda was usually broke, anyway.”
    “But not anymore?”
    It was a sore spot for David, but he knew Gary meant no harm by asking. “No, not anymore. She’s going out with a hedge-fund guy.”
    Gary whistled and nodded. “I know your sister never liked her all that much.” He flipped on the windshield wipers to clear some snow. “But if you don’t mind my saying so, she was superhot.”
    “Thanks for reminding me.”
    “Don’t mention it.”
    They drove in companionable silence for a few miles, listening to a jazz CD Gary put on. As they passed the Calvary cemetery, David said, “When we were kids, Sarah always used to hold her breath when we passed a cemetery.”
    “That’s funny. She says you’re the one who used to do that.”
    “I guess we did a lot of things