oriental as Miranda was willing to go as a cook. Ichiko's native Japanese cuisine appalled her. It was just Miranda, Cordelia, Ichiko, and Veronica. "Most everybody you knew was already gone," Miranda said. "Melanie is a translator for the UN, if you can believe it. Adrienne is doing shop windows at Bergdorf's. Everyone has decent jobs, and they all sent Christmas cards. We still get two or three calls a week from clients who hadn't gotten the word."
"They need me to help with the rent now," Cordelia said. Miranda said, "We have all the money we need, and you know it."
Cordelia shrugged. Her hair was cut short now, very businesslike. "Let me pretend I'm useful. I've got money to burn, now that I'm a producer. Everybody in GF&G moved up after Bob was killed."
Veronica tried not to let her guilt show. She turned to Ichiko. "Have you told Fortunato? About shutting down the business?"
"I wrote him and told him. I got no answer. I write him every so often, but it's always the same. The letters don't come back, but there is never an answer either." Behind the bitterness, Veronica saw how tired Ichiko was. The business was the only thing that had kept her going all these years. Veronica wondered how long she would last without it.
Miranda talked about Linda and Orlando. The marriage, it seemed, was on the rocks. "Pray God," Miranda said. "Mama!" Veronica said, shocked.
"You were right about him," Miranda said. "He's a good-for-nothing. She's better off without him."
"Give her my love, okay? I really want to see her."
"Maybe you should see her. I think she would like that." It was a thought. It would be good to see the old neighborhood again. Good to patch things up with Linda, to be friends with her. She had another helping of turkey. "What about Jerry?" she asked. "Do you ever hear from him?"
Ichiko and Miranda exchanged a look.
"Mama? What is it? What aren't you telling me?" Miranda looked at her empty plate. "Did Jerry ever tell you about ... his, uh, special ability?"
Veronica thought she had seen most of Jerry's abilities, and they were pretty average. "What are you talking about?"
"I was afraid of that."
"Mama, don't keep this from me."
"It's just, with things the way they are these days, you don't want to talk about it ... see, baby, Jerry is an ace."
"You're kidding. Jerry? He never said anything to me." But of course he wouldn't have. Jerry wanted her to love him for himself, as he'd told her more than once.
"Last winter, around the same time as ... as that business with Hannah, he was here." Miranda flushed, obviously sorry that she'd mentioned Hannah's name. "Some of those Shadow Fist people were here, threatening us. He ... I don't know exactly how he did it, but he's got this ability to change the way he looks. Everything about the way he looks. He turned himself into Fortunato. He made his skin dark, and he got all skinny and even-you know. The thing with the forehead."
Veronica couldn't get over it. Jerry an ace. Of course she was one, too, but she didn't dwell on it. As long as she didn't use her power, she couldn't say for sure that it was still there.
"We haven't seen him since," Cordelia said. "I think maybe he gave up on you."
Dessert was fried bananas in honey. Afterward, they gathered around the tiny bonsai pine in what had once been the waiting room. Miranda had bought Veronica a beautiful silk blouse that was now two sizes too small, even if Veronica still wore such things. Cordelia gave her earrings that she couldn't wear since she'd let the holes in her earlobes close. "They can put clips on them," Cordelia said awkwardly. Ichiko gave her a delicate china saki jug and bowls. Veronica didn't mention that she had given up drinking as well. Veronica had bought books for all three of them in a fit of idealism and repressed anger: The Marx-Engels Reader, The Women's Room, The Feminist Encyclopedia. There was a moment, when all the presents were opened, when Veronica was sure she was going to cry. Then Miranda said, "Some Christmas, huh?" and started to laugh. Then they were all laughing, arms around each other, huddled on the floor, laughing until they did cry, after all.
And as Veronica had feared, Ichiko hadn't lasted, dying on the last day of February. And Jerry, it seemed, hadn't given up on her, after all.