entrance　toward　him　on　a　pair　of　black　Prada　pumps。

Nate　nodded。　Did　he　know　this　lady？

“Well；　aren’t　you　handsome；”　she　mused；　smiling　broadly　as　if　they’d　met　at　a　charity　event　and　not　outside　a　funeral。

“Thanks；”　Nate　grunted。　He　was　used　to　women　of　all　ages　menting　on　his　looks。　It　was　just　a　fact　of　his　life；　like　the　fact　he　liked　to　sail　and　was　naturally　good　at　lacrosse。

Hey；　it’s　not　bragging　if　it’s　true。

“You　know；　Charles　never　had　a　son。　I　see　why　he　took　a　shine　to　you。　I’m　his　sister；　Nan。　He　and　I　had　our　differences；　but　I　won’t　speak　ill　of　the　dead；”　she　clucked　as　she　reached　into　her　ivory…colored　Chanel　purse。　“This　is　for　you；”　she　said；　thrusting　a　thick；　ivory…colored　envelope　in　his　hand。　“And；　of　course；　you’re　invited　to　the　small　luncheon　I’m　having　for　friends。　It’s　at　my　apartment。　Shall　I　give　you　the　address？”　she　asked　expectantly。

“I’m　afraid—I　can’t　attend；”　Nate　said　haltingly；　hoping　he　wasn’t　being　rude。　All　he　wanted　to　do　was　go　home；　curl　up　in　his　bed；　and　shut　the　world　out。　He　wondered　if　he　had　any　pot　knotted　in　a　black　dress　sock　stuffed　in　the　back　of　his　top　drawer。　He　hadn’t　wanted　to　smoke　in　ages；　but　right　now　he　wanted　to　enter　a　deep　pot…induced　haze　and　never　e　out。

Nan　gazed　at　Nate　quizzically。　Deep　crinkles　appeared　around　the　edges　of　her　blue　eyes；　eyes　that　if　he　looked　at　from　a　certain　angle；　reminded　him　of　Chips’s。　“Of　course。　Good　luck；　son；”　she　added　as　she　tottered　away　on　her　high　heels。

“Thanks。”　Nate　regarded　the　wrinkled　cream…colored　envelope　quizzically。　A　wet　snowflake　landed　on　the　envelope；　smearing　the　N　in　his　name。　Now　it　looked　more　like　Fate。

“Ready　to　get　out　of　here？”　he　asked　Chuck　as　he　marched　down　the　wide　stone　ste