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Bunny thought of Konrad and her drunken night on the beach; he had talked about Libya. She thought of Sofie’s jeremiad. She could never have shown her this document. Bunny understood, logically, that Sofie was right about everything. But it was impossible to reconcile Sofie’s prognostications with …

“Anyway, sorry,” said Sofie brightly, understanding that the evening’s festivities had taken a direct hit. “I’m a journalist; these are the stories I think about; it’s hard to leave work at home.” She picked up her drink, and each man was forced to reveal whether he would act like a dick in the fac…

Sofie laughed again. “I’m sorry, but this is such an American tragedy! You work for the oil complex so you can have health insurance and a place to live!”

“Well, not exactly destitute,” John said pedantically. This was true, monetarily speaking. The judge or arbitrator had taken the attorney’s tallying up of what Maryellen would have earned in twenty-six years of TWA salaries had she not moved every one to four years in support of Ted’s career, while…

Bunny was surprised at this. Obama was heroic to her, a symbol of the victory of good over evil. And he had gotten Osama bin Laden, whatever that was worth—although after the disasters of Iraq and Afghanistan, it did seem a little beside the point. Frank Turnbridge had said, “Finally, something goo…