Craig's smile faltered when the question occurred to him whether any of his and his wife's friends might be there in the audience. His goal certainly wasn't to humiliate anyone or hurt anyone's feelings. Yet he doubted he'd see any acquaintances, because he and his wife had never gone to the symphony, nor had any of their few friends, who were mostly overworked physicians like himself. Taking advantage of the city's cultural life hadn't been part of their particular suburban lifestyle, thanks to the hours a typical practice of medicine demanded.

Craig had been separated from Alexis now for six months, so it wasn't unreasonable to have a companion. He didn't think it was an age issue. As long as he was with an adult woman of a reasonable, post-college age, it shouldn't matter. After all, being seen out and about with a date was going to happen sooner or later, as active as he'd become. In addition to regular attendance at the symphony, he'd become a regular at a new gym, as well as at the theater, the ballet, and a number of other activities and social gatherings that normal educated people participated in in a world-class city. Since Alexis had consistently refused to go along with his new persona right from its inception, he now felt he was justified to accompany whomever he wanted. He wasn't going to be held back from becoming the person he aspired to be. He'd even joined the Museum of Fine Arts and was looking forward to exhibition openings, despite never having ever been to one. He'd had to sacrifice enjoying such cultural activities during the arduous and isolating effort of becoming a doctor – particularly, becoming the best doctor he could be – which meant that for ten years of his adult life, he was absent from the hospital only to sleep. And then once he'd finished his specialty training in internal medicine and hung out his proverbial shingle, he'd had even less time for personal pursuits of any kind, including, unfortunately, much family life.