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Tess. Can I help you?”
    “Tess, it’s Blair.”
    I am utterly amazed to hear her voice. She has never called me at work before, not even during a time of crisis, which is usually when she calls. And it doesn’t sound like her. Blair and I talk to each by phone other every other month or so, but always at home and always on the weekend. She and her husband Brad and twin girls live in St. Louis, a day’s drive away. Sometimes Brad’s business will bring him to Chicago and she will call me if she comes with him so that we can get together for lunch. But I am struggling to remember when was the last time we did that. Has it been a year? I can remember the last phone call, however. It was two months ago, in February. She was lamenting her depressing lack of true friends. She was tired of cocktail parties and Mah Jongg lunches and country club weekends. I didn’t know what to say to her. What do you say to someone who has justrealized money, even a lot of it, can’t buy good friends? Then she told me she felt like she and Brad were drifting apart, that it seemed like her marriage had lost its momentum. I’d always known Brad’s money couldn’t buy a happy marriage either, but I did not say this. I’d told her maybe they should see a counselor. As if I know anything at all about marriage.
    In any case, her calling me at work in the middle of the day is not like her. It occurs to me maybe she and Brad are in Chicago and she wants to get together.
    “Blair! What’s up?” I say.
    “I called your apartment,” she is saying. “Simon gave… Simon gave me this number. He said you wouldn’t mind…”
    But Blair’s voice fades away before she finishes her sentence.
    “Blair?”
    I hear a choked-back sob on the other end.
    “Blair. Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
    “Tess, Brad collapsed while jogging this morning,” she says. “They’re thinking he had a heart attack. He’s… he’s in a coma.”
    I am stunned. Brad’s only in his thirties. “Blair, I am so sorry,” I manage to say. It doesn’t seem possible that he could have had a heart attack this young.
    “The doctors say it was bad,” Blair’s voice is thick with distress. “They… they aren’t sure he’s going to pull through. They…”
    Another sob cuts her short.
    I hardly know what to say. Antonia is looking at me. So are the two women she is helping.
    “Blair, do you want me come?” I say.
    That’s it. That’s all I can think of to say. I am astounded that that is all she wants to hear.
    “Could you?” she says, her voice not much more than a squeak. “Could you really?”
    “Well… of course,” I stammer, wondering what in the world makes me think my presence will make things easier for her.
    “I… I can’t leave the hospital, but I’m sure I can find someone to pick you up at the airport. I’ll pay for the ticket,” Blair says through her tears.
    “You don’t have to worry about that—” But she interrupts me.
    “No, you must let me. I want to.”
    I can tell it’s important to her that she is in control of at least one little thing this day.
    “Okay, okay,” I suddenly remember her twin daughters. “Blair, where are the girls?”
    There is a momentary pause. Blair seems not to have heard me.
    “Blair?”
    “They’re with Brad’s sister,” Blair finally says. “Can you come today, Tess? I don’t care how much the plane ticket costs. I will pay for it. Can you come today?”
    “Yes, I will,” I answer, but I feel anything but confident. “I need to hang up now, Blair, so I can make some arrangements, okay? I’ll try and get there this evening sometime.”
    “Okay,” Blair whispers. “You still have my cell phone number?”
    “I’ve got it at home,” I assure her.
    “Okay. Call me when you land and I’ll find someone to come get you.”
    “Blair, I’ll just get a rental car at the airport. I’ll call you from the rental agency, okay? You can tell me how to get to the hospital.”
    “All