"No."

"Si." I pointed to the picture. "The park, the zoo, and Mr. Jimmy. The kid even gave me some tips for redecorating."

"Did you sleep with Mom yet?"

"Were you doing shots before work again? I just told you that we didn't sleep together. She's a pre-fab."

"But you like her."

"Yeah, I do, kinda. I mean, I always did." I leaned back. "She has a different type of thing going. A sincerity... a genuine nature... an honesty... some shit like that."

"D-Man, she's a pre-fab. Be careful or you'll be Mr. Pre-Fab. Okay?"

"Got it covered. Don't worry. It was just refreshing to have a little change. Like going to Colonial Williamsburg for the weekend or something."

Billie looked at the picture. "What's the kid's name?"

"Her name is Spring. Everybody loves her."

"Even Mr. Jimmy?"

"Especially Mr. Jimmy."

"So is this a charity thing or what?"

I took my feet off my desk. Charity? No. I really like them ...Diane and the kid. "I don't think so."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"Hey, speaking of seeing and/or believing," I said, "I had din-din with Waverly Saturday."

"Yeah?"

Billie sat back in the chair. I knew she had as much interest in the Waverly gig as I did especially after talking about him Friday.

"Yep. Him and the little missus."

"Chicken-pot-pie for three?"

"Angelo's."

"Yummy. Ouch, but yummy."

"He confirmed Mr. Toady's wild ride for sometime next year. So you can't have my office just yet."

"Don't want it. The windows are too small." She made a flitting motion with her hand. "Double-dutch?"

"Yeah, right."

"Eighteen-year-old Macallan?"

"Only one. Had to keep my wits about me and there was the '97 Barolo to go with the meal. It was interesting especially their going out of their way to make sure I understood how much they valued family."

"Did you tell him that you'd taken out a lease on a family just the night before?"

"I left that part out. But it's good to know more about the culture at Waverly. And if it doesn't work out for me, maybe you can start working on your romantic endurance."

She cringed. "I'm not sure any job is that important. Maybe I can hire someone to play my husband at the family picnic. You're always looking to make a couple of extra bucks, right, D-Man?"

"You couldn't afford me. "

"Yeah, you're probably right. Happy Hour tomorrow? The Bud Team is in town and I hear they have an Anti-DUI contract coming up for renewal...?"

"Better not."

"Corner table at Chuck E. Cheese?"

"Nah, Mr. Jimmy's coming over to teach me how to cook hot dogs."

Billie laughed, blew me a kiss, and headed back to her office.

I looked at the picture of Diane, Spring and Mr. Jimmy. A pre-fab? Not for me. No way.

I pulled a freebie frame from my gratuity drawer and removed the default happy beach couple. Mr. Jimmy would look better in the frame, and so would Diane's smile. I put the picture in the drawer. This was just a little temporary fun. In the meantime, Laurel would have to wait a few more days. At least I hoped she would. I closed the drawer.

For the rest of the day, I tried to work while considering what everyone had said. I had those plates spinning this time: Waverly and Mason, Laurel and Diane, and even Mr. Jimmy. I have always prided myself on having a sharp memory, able to recall names and numbers without writing them down. I can remember where people stand in arguments, or who was the last one to pick up the bar tab. But with so many plates spinning at once, it looked like a few were beginning to wobble.

Not used to starting my day so early, by the time three o'clock came around, I headed out. It wasn't my style showing your face late in the office was pretty much a prerequisite but I needed to pick up some essentials for the good of my apartment.

When I got back, Diane and Spring were on the floor playing with an imaginary something. Spring took a swig of juice from her sippy cup and pointed at the tube under my arm.

"What?" I said, pretending not to understand.

She pointed again. "What's that?"

"What?"

"That!"

"Oh, this." I removed the tube and set a small brown bag on the kitchen island. "These go together... a present for all of us."

I unrolled a three-foot roll of white paper. "You can draw on this, Spring. It should fit perfectly beneath the chair rail."

"That's so sweet, Dylan," Diane said, adding her gorgeous smile. "What do you tell Dylan?"

"More juice please?" She giggled.

"Try again..."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Spring. But there's more." I removed two boxes of organic mac and cheese and a box of crayons from inside the bag. "There are 128 different colors."

Spring took the crayons and removed a blue, a red, a yellow and an orange one.

I could have bought the 8-pack. "No, look, there's," I started to remove crayons at random, "cotton candy, and outer space, and wisteria and even eggplant."

"Spring prefers blue and yellow," Diane said, putting her hand on my back. "Thanks, Dylan." She kissed my cheek then picked up a box of macaroni to check the nutrition label. "I suppose I could add something to this."

Spring took her crayons, while Diane and I put some sheets of paper up in the living room. I then sat on the couch, imagining the masterworks that would soon emerge on the walls without requiring me to repaint.

By Thursday night, I'd blown off a cocktail party with the P.R. elite for an organic peanut butter and raspberry preserve sandwich. I didn't ask why, but it tasted better than it sounded. I even drank milk from a sippy cup. I didn't feel a moment's remorse over missing the party. Over the years, I had attended these events as ambition dictated, loitering with the same faces and smiling and kissing the same chapped asses. Coming home to Diane and the kid felt less superficial, and I kind of enjoyed it. The last few days had surprised me. With the exception of postponing a Laurel rendezvous, I had been content with how things were progressing.

We were sitting at the dinner table when I received the bad news.

"Dylan, guess what?"

"Spring won a scholarship to the Paris Young Artists Club?"

Spring looked confused, then separated the two halves of her sandwich.

"No. I got a job!"

"That's great." I could only imagine what she'd been able to drum up in this economy. Maybe an internship with a token stipend? It was fine. Diane and Spring could stay here as long as they needed to.

"Remember Mr. Barnes?"

"The upstairs Mr. Barnes?"

"Yes, from the elevator. You're looking at the new Deputy Director of Marketing for Barnes, Inc."

"No way."

"Yes."

I'm sure the shock showed on my face, but I think I recovered fairly quickly. "Congratulations, Diane. We need to celebrate!" I stood up to get a bottle of wine. "I believe I have just the thing to bring out the delicate citrus nuances of the jelly."

Spring scraped the slice of peanut butter bread against her teeth.

"Dylan," she said, laughing. "There's more. Barnes, Inc. has their own daycare. It's part of their benefit package. Apparently, Mr. Barnes really loves children. I could just tell he liked children. Spring can start as soon as I do, and I can check in on her as often as I want."

I poured the white wine into recently purchased plastic wine glasses, having learned the hard way about glasses and red wine with a kid around. In just a few days, I had three fewer wine glasses and two new purple stains in the grout.

"There's more. Mr. Barnes owns a building over on Walker and he has an apartment available. It isn't huge and there isn't a view, but it's close, furnished and I can move in this Saturday."

According to my plan, this was exactly what I had wanted and when I wanted it. I wanted to spend some time with Diane, get her in, get her out, and get back to normal.

"So if Mason, Brand and Partners needs to talk with Barnes, Inc. you'd better go through me first."

I laughed, but I was having a bit of trouble processing everything. "That's wonderful, Diane. I know you want to get started on your new life, and well, this is a great new start. Wow, Barnes, Inc. It's amazing. You're amazing."

She smiled. "I ran into Mr. Barnes a couple of days ago on the elevator. We got to talking and he asked me what I did and why I moved. Before I knew it, he was offering me a job."

This kind of thing just didn't happen, especially now. Except it seemed to happen with stunning regularity to Diane and Spring. I thought back again on my time in Chicago with Diane. She was unquestionably a dynamo in her office. I would have hired her in a second. And those nights we spent together had a breathless quality to them. I was never sure what was going to happen next. After I got back to the City, I even spent a few minutes wondering what would have happened between us had my gig in Chicago run longer.

We clinked the plastic glasses together.

"I found out this afternoon about everything. It's like winning the lottery!"

Diane held out her glass to clink again, but I reached to hug her, sending wine to the tile. At least this time, it wouldn't stain. Her hair fell across my cheek and left a tingly sensation that I was beginning to enjoy.

"What's the matter?" she said, looking at me when I pulled back.

"Nothing. I'm very happy for you...and Spring. "

Sipping avidly at her third cup of milk through a curly straw, Spring just stared at me. I grabbed some paper towel and blotted up the spilled wine.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Diane said. "You seem a little weird all of a sudden."

The act of cleaning up the spill had given me a moment to refocus. "I'm not really sure why I feel this way, but it was nice to have someone, you and Spring, depending on me a little. I guess I'm going to miss you."

"Oh, Dylan." She hugged me. This was getting a little more intense than I could handle and I was looking for some way to change the mood. Fortunately, Spring took matters into her own hands. I heard her call for her mother and then the unmistakable sound of vomit spattering the tile.

"Whoa, where did that come from?" I exclaimed.

"It's all right. I just happens sometimes."

"For no reason?"

"It happens when she drinks too much."

"Yeah, been there. "

Diane smirked at me and then said to Spring, "This is why all that juice before dinner wasn't good for you. I knew I shouldn't have given you another cup of milk."

Spring looked contrite.

"It might have been the peanut butter," I suggested. "I noticed some weird consistency."

"That was the tofu."

I bit my lip before I could say anything.

"It's a good source of vitamin B and iron and mixes well in the peanut butter."

It had tasted pretty good.

Spring wiped her face with a towel. Blanched just moments earlier, her cheeks had returned to full rosiness. She was obviously fine.