A Hand-Written LetterKate and Simon spoke several times during the week. She confessed to having dated a couple of others but that, well, they did not work out. Simon was unsure how to take this bit of intel but figured that she would not be on the phone with him and would not be so anxious about getting together with him if those dates had gone anywhere. Thus he was more than happy to go into the City on Saturday. Fall had arrived. They would have lunch and play things by ear.
Plans changed, though, on Wednesday. Kate’s roots were getting more established in New York, and she feared, or at least was concerned, that California was no longer part of her. She regretted being in touch with only a few people there. Just her sister Lizzie and Lizzie’s family and three or four friends from Mill
