JANA EAGERLY reached for hugs and kisses as Scott arrived at her house one Saturday in September. She had liked the sophisticated décor and spectacular view of the city at Scott's penthouse, but she felt more at ease in her own little home and was happy that Scott seemed satisfied for them to meet here. He was holding his usual bottle of wine.

"Hi, darling. How are you today?" he inquired, automatically reaching down to pat Barney, who wiggled with pleasure.

"So, so good." She snuggled in for a minute before turning to put the wine in the kitchen.

"Mom called today. She wonders what you think about her missing the last chemo. She doesn't want to do it."

"Well, there's no science to the program. We have no empirical evidence that we should be doing it the way we are. But with each passing year, the survival rate for our program improves a bit. It's up to her, of course, but if it were me, I'd be getting all the treatment I could."

"Yes, I agree. I think she knows that too. She's just sharing her angst."

"Angst? That's a fancy word for my girl," he teased.

In a voice thick with emotion, he said, "Sweetest, I have something to ask you."

Jana sat on the couch. She expected Scott to sit beside her, but instead, he knelt down on the floor. Barney immediately came over to sniff and find out what was going on.