We went out to dinner with a friend, and I asked Maria if she believed me when I said I was on her computer to download some Christmas music from ITunes. “No,” she said, “not for a minute.” Okay, I thought, well that didn’t really fly, so I said, smoothly, then what on earth did she think I was doing fiddling with her computer? “I can’t imagine,” she said.

Okay, so I shifted gears again and we got to talking about her plans for making potholders and fiberart next year, and that is very much where her head is. We talked about spending a few days wandering around Brooklyn. I told her I didn’t think we should bring any computers or cameras, and she lit up at that, saying it would be good and restful for both of us. All we had to concentrate on was being with my daughter Emma, hanging out together, finding some good restaurants, walking through Brooklyn neighborhoods, reading the very good books we have.

So it stands here. She knows I’m up to something, but not what. She said, walking to the restaurant, “you know, you don’t need to buy me any presents,” and I said, “sure, I know that.” And then she just looked at me. I think she knows I’m doing something but has no inkling of what. I’ll keep talking about art and Brooklyn. I’ll slip the gift into my luggage, which has some compartments she will not go into. And as I don’t need her computer or passwords anymore, I’m betting she will forget about it. I learned as a reporter that if you convince yourself of something, other people will believe it.