"Circa fourteen seventy." "Oh my God, Andy!" she said, cradling it in both hands, adoring it. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen!" "It's named "Andyst was he said. "For him, I guess." Smiling, she tiptoed to kiss his cheek. "Oh thank you, darling, thank you!" She kissed Andy della Robbia- lightly, very lightly. "My handsome angel Andy!" she said to it. "I adore you! I could eat you up!" She gave it another feather-kiss. Sunday brunch was the first chance they had to be together. At the airport, he had come out of the VIP pass door with two elderly men. They seemed to be in an ongoing discussion, so after a hug and two handshakes outside the limo-one with a Chinese, one with a Frenchman-and a little eye language with Andy, she had ridden back to the city the way she had ridden out, up front with Joe. They listened to tapes of fifties big- band music, chatted about the musicians, and admired the billboards that had begun going up December first- Andy beaming at them over the lines of copy: Here in New York we're lighting our candles at 7 p.m.
