44 Charles Street by Danielle Steel Page A

at the gallery at ten, before they opened, so they would have time to look at paintings in the racks without being disturbed. “I hate to say it, but I have to go, Mom.”
    “That’s all right, dear,” her mother said, planted firmly in her chair with no intention of moving. “I can stay and chat with Marya. I still have time before my appointment.”
    Marya nodded at Francesca reassuringly, who was looking panicked, and then Marya turned to Thalia. “Countess, would you like another cup of coffee?” She said it as though she were calling her Your Highness, and Thalia smiled.
    “Please call me Thalia. I wouldn’t want the young people calling me that, but there’s no reason for you to use my title.” She had decided they were equals, in stature as well as age. “You know, I have two of your cookbooks. I particularly like your recipe for hollandaise. It’s so easy, even I can do it.”
    “Thank you, Thalia,” Marya said, beaming, and handed her another plate of croissants.
    “I hate to leave you, Mom,” Francesca said uncomfortably, but it was more that she didn’t trust her. She had no idea what she’d say to Marya, or how she would behave. And she didn’t want to offend Marya, who looked totally at ease with her mother.
    “Don’t be silly, dear. I’ll call you later.” Thalia had stopped complaining about the other tenants, and Francesca really had to leave. The client she was meeting had been referred to her by a satisfied client. She had never met him before, and she didn’t want to be late.
    Francesca gave a last anxious glance at Marya as she left, and hurried up the stairs to get her purse, and a moment later, she was hurrying down the street, thinking about her mother. She was sure she was going to get an earful about all of them at some point, except maybe Marya, whom her mother seemed to like.
    At that very moment, the two older women were bonding in the kitchen. Marya was amused by her, but it didn’t show. She could hold her own with people like the countess, and had with people who were infinitely worse.
    “You have no idea how I worry about her, especially with this insane arrangement,” Thalia was confiding to Marya. “She should have married Todd instead of buying real estate with him. He would have had to pay her a decent alimony, and she’d own the house free and clear. Living with all these people is just a crazy thing to do.” Thalia looked distressed, and Marya was very calm.
    “It seems to be working out very well. Chris is respectable, he seems well educated, and his son is very sweet. And I think the little girl upstairs is just young and a little silly. She’s fresh out of school. She’s all excited about being in the city and meeting men. She’ll calm down.”
    “Her friend looks like he’s fresh out of prison,” Thalia said, near tears. For the next hour, Marya reassured her, and by the time Thalia left to see her new skin doctor, she was feeling better. Marya sat in the kitchen for a few minutes, smiling to herself after she left. The Countess di San Giovane was definitely a handful. She couldn’t help wondering how Francesca had managed to be so normal and down to earth with a mother like that. But more than anything, Thalia seemed foolish to her, and most of what they’d talked about was her desperation about finding a man and getting married again. She had confessed shamelessly that without a husband, she didn’t even feel like a woman. Her entire identity was wrapped up in who she was married to. And without that she felt like no one at all. She was the exact opposite of Marya, who was self-respecting, confident, knew exactly who she was, and didn’t depend on anyone for her identity. The two women were as different as black and white. And in Francesca’s opinion, her mother’s obvious obsession with finding another husband had been scaring men away for years.
    And at the gallery, Francesca had taken out nearly every painting she had in the racks. She