Hamilton would join them on Thursday, September 1st, and then bring Abush back to New York before flying with him to London, on Saturday night.
She had mentioned it in a text message, but was repelled when Hamilton carried her own plunger across town and into Gunn’s apartment.
Leaving the courtroom, she briefly embraced Gunn, who was weeping, and whispered, “I’m so sorry.” Hamilton later told me, “I did feel sorry for her. ’ ” Hamilton then cancelled her flight, reënrolled Abush in school, and hired a lawyer. Hamilton—an inquiry into whether Abush had two parents or one—began the following week, and was still running in the new year. ” Her life had been put on hold, and her possessions were stuck in a shipping warehouse in New Jersey.
The proceedings, which exhumed hundreds of e-mails of love and regret, became an intimate history of a New York romance and its aftermath: a study of what counts as splitting up, what counts as a family, and, in a quiet but stubborn subtext, whether the ability to pay for good dentistry enhances a legal claim to be something more than a godmother. “It’s as if you gave me the keys to your apartment and, suddenly, I’m saying, ‘The apartment is ,’ ” Hamilton told me, bleakly, last fall. Abush had returned to school; Hamilton couldn’t take him out of state without permission.
When her friend Valentina Rice hosted a farewell dinner for her, on August 30th, Hamilton was surrounded by expatriate British women with careers in the media and in fashion.
The guests ate blueberry polenta cake and said goodbye to someone they understood to be a single mother.