Answered prayers

Dare to believe in…

a cognizant original v5 release october 21 2010

DANIELLE STEEL“Steel pulls out all the emotional stops …. She delivers.”—Publishers Weekly“Steel is one of the best!”—Los Angeles Times“The world's most popular author tells a good, well- paced story and explores some important issues Steel affirm[s] life while admitting its turbulence, melodramas, and misfiring passions.”—Booklist“Danielle Steel writes boldly and with practical vividness about tragedy—both national and personal… with insight and power.”—Nashville Banner“There is a smooth reading style to her writings which makes it easy to forget the time and to keep flipping the pages.”—The Pittsburgh Press“One of the things that keeps Danielle Steel fresh is her bent for timely story lines … the combination of Steel's comprehensive research and her skill at creating credible characters makes for a gripping read.”—The Star-Ledger (Newark)“What counts for the reader is the ring of authenticity.”—San Francisco Chronicle“Steel knows how to wring the emotion out of the briefest scene.”—People“Ms. Steel excels at pacing her narrative, which races forward, mirroring the frenetic lives chronicled; men and women swept up in bewildering change, seeking solutions to problems never before faced.”—Nashville Banner“Danielle Steel has again uplifted her readers while skillfully communicating some of life's bittersweet verities. Who could ask for a finer gift than that?”—The Philadelphia Inquirer

PRAISE FOR THE RECENT NOVELS OF

DANIELLE STEELANSWERED PRAYERS“Smooth plotting.”—Publishers Weekly“Steel's fans will be waiting for this one”—Booklist“Answered Prayers may be an answer to yours.”—Times Record News (Wichita Falls, Texas)DATING GAME“A cheerful story full of colorful dating scenarios … you can't stop devouring it.”—Chicago TribuneSUNSET IN ST. TROPEZ“Steel's skillful character development shines.”—The Star-Ledger (Newark)“Entertaining and suspenseful…”—The Kansas City StarTHE KISS“Steel pulls through with skillful plotting, steeping a gentle brew that will once again gratify her legions of fans.”—Publishers WeeklyLEAP OF FAITH“STEEL IS A SKILLED STORYTELLER. [Her] tale provides entertainment and imparts important lessons.”—BooklistLONE EAGLE“THE NOVEL IS BRIGHTLY PACED, and the World War II setting provides plenty of contextual drama.”—PeopleA MAIN SELECTION OF THE LITERARY GUILD

AND THE DOUBLED AY BOOK CLUB

Also by Danielle Steel

JOHNNY ANGEL JEWELS DATING GAME NO GREATER LOVE SUNSET IN ST. TROPEZ HEARTBEAT THE COTTAGE MESSAGE FROM NAM THE KISS DADDY LEAP OF FAITH STAR LONE EAGLE ZOYA JOURNEY KALEIDOSCOPE THE HOUSE ON FINE THINGS HOPE STREET WANDERLUST THE WEDDING SECRETS IRRESISTIBLE FORCES FAMILY ALBUM GRANNY DAN FULL CIRCLE BITTERSWEET CHANGES MIRROR IMAGE THURSTON HOUSE HIS BRIGHT LIGHT: CROSSINGS THE STORY OF NICK TRAINA ONCE IN A LIFETIME THE KLONE AND I A PERFECT STRANGER THE LONG ROAD HOME REMEMBRANCE THE GHOST PALOMINO SPECIAL DELIVERY LOVE: POEMS THE RANCH THE RING SILENT HONOR LOVING MALICE TO LOVE AGAIN FIVE DAYS IN PARIS SUMMER'S END LIGHTNING SEASON OF PASSION WINGS THE PROMISE THE GIFT NOW AND FOREVER ACCIDENT PASSION'S PROMISE VANISHED GOING HOME MIXED BLESSINGS

To my very wonderful children,

who are the answers to my prayers,

Beatrix, Trevor, Todd, Samantha,

Victoria, Vanessa, Maxx, and Zara,

and Nick who was not only the answer

to my prayers, but has my prayers now,

and my heart, as he always will.

I love you all, with all my heart and soul.

with all my love,

Mom/d.s.

1

FAITH MADISON LOOKED SMALL AND SERIOUS AND STYLish, as she set the table, tossed a salad, and glanced into the oven at the dinner she'd prepared. She was wearing a well-cut black suit, and at forty-seven, she was still as slim as she had been when she married Alex Madison twenty-six years ago. She looked like a Degas ballerina, with her green eyes, and her long straight blond hair, which she had knotted into a sleek bun. She sighed, and sat down quietly in one of the kitchen chairs.

The small elegant brownstone townhouse on East Seventy-fourth Street in New York was deadly quiet, and she could hear the clock ticking, as she waited for Alex to come home. She closed her eyes for a minute, thinking of where she had been that afternoon. And as she opened them again, she could hear the front door open and close. There was no other sound, no footstep on the hall carpet, no shout of “hello” as he walked in. He always came in that way. He locked the door behind him, set down his briefcase, hung his coat up in the closet, and glanced at his mail. In time, he would come looking for her. He would check her small study, and then glance into the kitchen to see if she was there.

Alex Madison was fifty-two years old. They had met when she was in college, at Barnard, and he was in business school at Columbia. Things had been different then. He had been enchanted by Faith's open easy ways, her warmth, her energy, her joy. He had always been quiet and reserved, and cautious with his words. They married as soon as she graduated, and he got his MBA. He had been an investment banker ever since. She had worked as a junior editor at Vogue for a year after graduating, and loved it, and then stopped when she went to law school for a year. She dropped out when her first child was born. Eloise had just turned twenty-four and had moved to London in early September. She was working at Christie's, and learning a lot about antiques. Faith's other daughter, Zoe, at eighteen, was a freshman at Brown. After twenty-four years of full-time mothering, Faith had been out of a job for the past two months. The girls were gone—and she and Alex were suddenly alone.

“Hi, how was it?” Alex asked as he walked into the kitchen looking tired. He barely glanced at her and sat down. He'd been working hard on two IPOs. It didn't even occur to him to touch her or to hug her. Most of the time, he spoke to her from across the room. He didn't do it out of malice, but it had been years since he'd come home from the office and given her a hug. She had no idea when he'd stopped. She'd been so busy with their daughters that she didn't notice, until one day she realized that he didn't touch her when he came home anymore. She was always doing homework with the girls, or bathing one of them, when he came home at night. But it had been a long, long time since he'd been affectionate with her. Longer than either of them knew or cared to remember. There was a chasm between them now that they had both long since accepted, and she felt as though she were looking at him from a great distance as she poured him a glass of wine.

“It was all right. Sad,” she said, as he glanced at the paper, and she took the chicken out of the oven. He preferred fish, but she hadn't had time to buy any on the way home. “He looked so small.” She was speaking of her stepfather, Charles Armstrong. He had died two days before, at the age of eighty-four. The rosary had been that day, and the casket had been open so Charles could be “viewed” by family and friends.

“He was old, Faith. He'd been sick for a long time.” As though that not only explained it, but dismissed it. Alex did that. He dismissed things. Just as for years now, he had dismissed her. She felt lately as though she had served her purpose, done her job, and been dispensed with, not only by her children, but by her husband as well. The girls had their own lives now that they'd left home. And Alex lived in a world that didn't include her, except on rare occasions, when he expected her to entertain clients, or go to a dinner party with him. The rest of the time, he expected her to amuse herself.

She saw women friends sometimes in the daytime, but most of her old friends still had children at home and were pressed for time. In the past several months, since Zoe left for college, Faith had been spending most of her time alone, trying to figure out what to do with the rest of her life.

And Alex had a full life of his own. It seemed eons since she and Alex had sat for hours at dinner and chatted about the things that were important to them. It had been years since they had gone for long walks on the weekend, or gone to movies and held hands. She could barely remember what that had been like with Alex. He seldom touched her, and rarely spoke. And yet, she knew he loved her, or at least she thought so, but he seemed to have almost no need to communicate with her. It was all shorthand and staccato words, silence suited him better, as it did now, as she set his dinner down in front of him, and brushed away a stray lock of blond hair. He seemed not to notice her at all, and was engrossed in something he was reading in the paper. It took him a long time to answer when she spoke again.

“Are you coming tomorrow?” she asked gently. Her stepfather's funeral was the next day. He shook his head as he glanced up at her.

“I can't. I'm going to Chicago. Meetings with Uni-pam.” He had been having trouble with an important account. Business took precedence over all else, and had for a long time. He had become a very successful man. It had bought them the townhouse, and their daughters' educations, an unexpected amount of ease and luxury that Faith hadn't expected to enjoy But there were other things that would have meant more to her. Comfort, laughter, warmth. She felt as though she never laughed anymore, and hadn't in a long time, except when she was with the girls. It wasn't that Alex treated her badly. It was more that he didn't treat her at all. He had other things on his mind, and he didn't hesitate to make that clear to her. Even his lengthy silences told her that he would rather think than talk to her.

“It would be nice if you were there,” Faith said cautiously, as she sat down across the table from him. He was a handsome man, and had always been. At fifty-two, he had grown distinguished as well, with a full head of gray hair. He had piercing blue eyes, and an athletic build. One of his partners had died suddenly of a heart attack two years before, and Alex had been careful about diet and exercise since then. Which was why he preferred fish to anything else, and was pushing the chicken she had cooked around his plate. She hadn't had time to be creative. She had been at the funeral parlor with her stepsister, Allison, all afternoon, while people came by to pay their respects. The two women hadn't seen each other since Faith's mother's funeral the year before, and not for ten years before that. Allison hadn't come to her brother Jack's funeral two years before Faith's mother's. There had been too many funerals in recent years. Her mother, Jack, now Charles. Too many people had disappeared. And although she and her stepfather had never been close, she had respected him nonetheless, and it saddened her to think of his being gone. It felt as though all the familiar landmarks were fading from her life.

“I have to be at the meeting in Chicago tomorrow,” Alex said, looking intently into his plate. He was only picking at the chicken, but he hadn't bothered to complain.

“Other people go to funerals,” Faith said quietly. There was nothing strident about Faith. She didn't argue with him, didn't fight. She rarely disagreed with him. There was no point anyway. Alex had a way of removing himself. He did what he wanted, usually without asking or consulting her, and had for years. He operated like a separate entity from her most of the time, and what motivated him was business and the demands it put on him, not what Faith wanted him to do. She knew how he worked and what he thought. It was hard to get behind the walls he put up around himself. She was never entirely sure if it was a defense, or simply what made him comfortable. It had been different when they were young, but it had been this way for years. Being married to him was a lonely place, but she was used to it. She only felt it more now because the girls were gone. They had provided all the warmth she needed for years. It was their absence she felt now, more than his. And she seemed to have drifted away from many of her friends. Time and life and marriage and kids had somehow gotten in the way.

Zoe had left for Brown two months before. She seemed happy there, and had yet to come home for a weekend, although Providence was close enough. But she was busy with her friends, her life, her activities at school. Just as Eloise was happy in London, with her job. Faith had been feeling for a while that they all had fuller lives than she, and she had been wrestling with trying to decide what to do with her own. She had thought of getting a job, but had no idea what kind of work she could do. It had been twenty-five years since she'd worked at Vogue, before Eloise was born. She had also thought about going back to law school, and had mentioned it to Alex a couple of times. He thought the idea was ridiculous, at her age, and dismissed it out of hand.

“At your age, Faith? You don't start law school again at forty-seven. You'd be nearly fifty before you graduated and passed the bar.” He said it with a look of utter contempt, and although she still thought of it from time to time she didn't mention it to him. Alex thought she should continue doing charity work, as she had for years, and going to lunch with her friends. All of which had begun to seem meaningless to Faith, particularly now with the girls away. She wanted something with more substance to fill her life, but she had yet to find a plan that seemed sensible to her, and one she could convince her husband would be worthwhile.

“No one is going to miss me at Charles's funeral,” Alex said conclusively, as Faith cleared his plate, and offered him some ice cream, which he declined. He was careful about his weight, and was very trim and in good shape. He played squash several times a week, and tennis on weekends, when the weather in New York allowed. They had rented a weekend house in Connecticut when the girls were small, but they hadn't done that in years. Alex liked to be able to go in to the office, if he needed to, on the weekends.

She wanted to tell him that she would miss him at her stepfather's funeral the next day. But she knew there was no point. Once he made up his mind, one way or another, he could not be swayed. It never occurred to him that she might need him there. And it wasn't the nature of their relationship for her to portray herself that way. She was capable, and well able to take care of herself. She had never leaned heavily on him, even when their children were small. She made good decisions, and was sure of herself. She had been the perfect wife for him. She never “whined,” as he put it. And she didn't now. But she was disappointed that he didn't want to be there for her. Disappointment had become a way of life for Faith now. Alex was almost never there when she needed him. He was responsible, respectable, intelligent, provided well for them. And the emotional side of him had vanished into thin air years before. They had wound up with the same relationship his parents had. When she had met them, she had been shocked by how cold they were, and unable to express affection for each other. His father had been particularly remote, just exactly the way Alex had become in time, although Faith had never pointed out to him how similar to his father he was. Alex wasn't demonstrative, and in fact it made him uncomfortable when others were, particularly Zoe and Faith. Their constant displays of affection always made him uneasy, and even more distant and critical of them.

Of the two girls, Zoe was the most like her, warm, affectionate, good-natured, with a sense of mischief about her, reminiscent of Faith when she was young. She was a terrific student, and a bright girl. But it was Eloise who was closer to her father, they had a kind of silent bond that was more comfortable for him. She was quieter than her sister, and always had been, and like Alex, she was often far more critical of Faith, and outspoken about it. Perhaps because he was. Zoe was always quick to come to her mother's defense, and to stand by her. She had wanted to come to Charles's funeral, although she wasn't close to him. He had never had any real interest in the girls. But as it turned out, she had midterm exams, and couldn't get away. And there was no reason for Eloise to come all the way from London for her step-grandfather's funeral, after he had never given her the time of day. Faith didn't expect it of them, but it would have been nice if Alex could have made the effort to be there.

Faith didn't mention it to him again. As she did with a lot of other things, she let it go. She knew she wouldn't win the argument. As far as he was concerned, she was perfectly capable of going alone. And he knew, just as his daughters did, that Faith and her stepfather had never been close. His loss was more symbolic to her. And what Faith didn't verbalize to him was that it was more painful because it reminded her acutely of the others who had gone before. Her mother, her brother, Jack, whose death had devastated Faith when his plane went down on the way to Martha's Vineyard three years before. He was forty-six years old at the time, had been an excellent pilot, and the engine had caught fire. The plane had exploded in midair, and it was a shock she had only just recently begun to recover from. She and Jack had always been soulmates and best friends. He had been her sole emotional support, and a source of comfort for her throughout her childhood and adult life. He was always forgiving, never critical, and fiercely loyal. They were two years apart, and growing up, their mother had always said they had been like twins. Particularly when their father died suddenly of a heart attack when Faith was ten and Jack twelve.

Faith's relationship with her father had been difficult, nightmarish in fact. It was something she never talked about, and which had taken her a good part of her adult life to resolve. She had worked on it with a therapist, and made her peace with her past as best she could. Her earliest memories were of her father molesting her. He had been sexually inappropriate and abusive with her starting when she was four or five. She had never dared to tell her mother about it, and her father had threatened to kill her and her brother if she told. Her deep love for her brother had kept her silent until Jack had discovered it when he was eleven and she was nine, and he and his father had had a huge fight over it. And he had told Jack the same thing, that he would kill Faith if either of them told. He had been a very sick man. It had been so traumatic for both of them that they had never talked about it again until both of them were grown, and she was in therapy, but it had formed an unseverable bond between them, a love born of compassion, and a deep sadness in each of them that it had happened at all. Jack had been tormented by the fact that he hadn't been able to shield Faith from the nightmare their father had inflicted on her physically and emotionally. It tore Jack apart, knowing what was happening and that he was helpless to turn the tides. But he was only a child. And a year after he had discovered it, their father died.

Years later, Faith had tried to tell their mother about it when she was in therapy, but her mother's denial mechanisms had been insuperable. She refused to listen, believe, or hear, and insisted repeatedly that what Faith was saying was a vicious lie, created to malign her father and hurt them all. As Faith had feared all her life, her mother blamed her and retreated into her own fantasies and denial. She insisted that Faith's father had been a kind and loving man, who adored his family and revered his wife. She had somehow managed to canonize him in the years since he had died. It left Faith with nowhere to go with her memories, except to Jack, as usual. He had gone to the therapist with her, and dredged up painful memories for both of them. Faith had sat and sobbed in his arms for hours.

But in the end, Jack's love and support had helped her put old ghosts to rest. Her memory of her father was of a monster who had violated the innocence and sanctity of her life as a child. And it took Jack years to get over the fact that he couldn't keep it from happening to her. It was a painful bond they shared, and a wound they both fought valiantly to heal. And Faith had finally made her peace with it, in great part thanks to Jack.

But the scars had taken a toll nonetheless. Both of them had sought out difficult relationships, with people who were cold and critical of them. They managed to match their mother's coldness in their mates, and found spouses who blamed them for anything that went awry. Jack's wife was neurotic and difficult, and left him several times, for reasons that no one could understand. And Alex had kept Faith at arm's length for years, while blaming her for whatever problems came along. Their choices were something she and Jack had discussed often, and although they both understood what they'd done eventually, neither of them had ever been able to turn it around. It was as though they had chosen situations that reproduced many of their childhood miseries, so that this time they could win them over and make the outcome different, but they had chosen people who couldn't be won, and the outcome in each case was as disappointing as their childhood had been, though less traumatic at least. Jack handled it by being a peacemaker and tolerating almost anything his wife dished out, including frequent abandonment, so as not to anger her or risk losing her. And Faith had done much the same thing. She rarely if ever argued with Alex, seldom challenged him. The lessons her father had taught her ran deep. She knew in her heart of hearts that she was to blame for everything. It was her sin, not his, and somehow her fault. Her father had convinced her of it. And as awful as it had been, his final punishment had been to abandon both of them when he died. Faith had somehow sensed, or feared, that she was to blame for that too, and it made her careful not to do anything in her marriage that would make Alex leave her. In some part of her, she had spent a lifetime trying to be the perfect little girl, to atone for the sins no one but her brother knew about. She had thought about telling Alex the truth about her childhood over the years, but never did. At some deep, unconscious level, she was afraid that if he knew what her father had done to her, he wouldn't love her anymore.

And in recent years, she wondered if Alex ever had. Perhaps he loved her in his own way, but it was a love based on her doing as he said and not rocking the boat. She had sensed early on that he couldn't have borne hearing the truth about what her father had done to her. Her dark secret remained with Jack and his was the only unconditional love she'd ever known. It was mutual between them. She loved him totally and unconditionally, as he did her, which made it even harder for her when he died. His death was an almost unbearable loss for her, particularly in light of everything she didn't have at home.

It had been difficult for both of them when her mother married Charles when Faith was twelve and Jack fourteen. Faith had been suspicious of him, and fully expected him to do the same things her father had. Instead, he ignored her entirely, which was a mercy for her. He was not a man who was comfortable with women or girls. Even his own daughter was a stranger to him. He was a military man, and he was hard on Jack, but he was at least able to demonstrate some affection for him. All he did for Faith was sign her report cards and complain about her grades, which he seemed to think was expected of him. It was his only role. Beyond that, Faith didn't exist for him, but that was comfortable for her. She was amazed when he didn't initiate sexual practices with her, she had expected them, and was stunned when he showed no interest in her. The relief she felt made up for the coldness Charles always exhibited to her, and everyone else. That was at least a familiar style to her.

Charles had won Jack over eventually by doing manly things with him, but he had never paid any attention to Faith simply because she was a girl. She had scarcely existed for him. It was Jack who had been her only male role model, her only sane bond to the masculine world. And unlike their mother and Charles, Jack had been affectionate and loving and happy and warm, just as Faith had been then. The woman he married was much as their mother had always been, distant and unemotional and cold. She seemed unable to warm up to him. They had separated several times, and in a fifteen-year marriage they never had children, because Debbie couldn't stand the idea of them. Faith could never understand the attraction he'd had for her. But he had been devoted to her, in spite of their difficulties, always made excuses for her personality, and saw things in her no one else did. She had stood stone-faced at his funeral, and shed not a tear. And six months after his death, Debbie had remarried and moved to Palm Beach. Faith hadn't heard from her since. Not even a Christmas card. In a sense, she was yet another loss, however little Faith had cared for her. She was a surviving piece of Jack in a way, but had disappeared.

In truth, Faith had no one now, except Alex and her two girls. She felt as though her own world were growing smaller and smaller these days. The people she had known and loved, or even cared about, were leaving one by one. If nothing else, they had been familiar to her, like Charles. And in the end his sanity and wholesome-ness, even if cool and aloof, proved to be a safe place for her. And now they were all gone. Her parents, Jack, and now Charles. It made Alex and the girls even more precious and important to her.

She dreaded Charles's funeral the next day. She knew it would remind her of Jack's funeral, if nothing else, and that in itself would be hard enough. She was thinking about it as she walked past the study where Alex liked to read at night. He was poring over some papers and didn't look up at her as she paused in the doorway. He had a way of isolating himself, of letting people know he didn't want to be touched or disturbed. It made him unreachable even as he sat across a room from her. The vast distance that had grown between them over the years couldn't be bridged. Like glaciers, they had moved imperceptibly, each of them moving slowly away from the other, and now all they could do was look at each other from the distance and wave. There was no way to get close to him anymore. Alex had successfully isolated himself, while living under the same roof with her. And she had long since given up. She simply accepted it, and went about her life. But the emptiness that she felt now that her daughters were gone was overpowering. She still hadn't found a way to fill the void, and wondered if she ever would, as she watched Alex put his papers away without saying a word to her, and then she moved silently toward the stairs.

He followed her to their bedroom half an hour later. She was already in bed, reading a book Zoe had recommended to her. It was an amusing novel, and she was smiling to herself as he walked into the room. He looked tired, but he had done most of the reading he needed to do for his meeting in Chicago the next day. He glanced at her, and went to change, and a few minutes later, he slipped into bed next to her. It was as though there were an invisible barricade down the middle of their bed. It was a Maginot Line neither of them crossed, except in dire necessity, once every few weeks, or even once a month. Making love was always one of the few times when she felt closer to him, but even that was ephemeral. It was more like a reminder of what they had once shared before they had gone their separate ways, than anything they shared now. Their lovemaking was brief and perfunctory, though pleasant at times. It was a reflection of their reality, not the realization of the dreams they had once shared. It simply was what it was, and nothing more. Remarkably, due to good therapy, she had no sexual problems, despite her father's early travesties. But due to the lack of communication and warmth between her and Alex, their lack of sexuality was sometimes a relief to her.

And tonight, as he got into bed, Alex rolled over on his side and turned away from her. It was a signal that he wanted nothing more from her that night. They had had dinner together, he told her where he was going the next day. He knew where she would be. And she knew from his schedule that she was going to a business dinner with him the following night, after the funeral. It was all they needed to know about each other, and were able to share. If she needed something more, some gesture of closeness or affection in her life, she would have to get it from the girls, and she knew that. It was what still made her miss Jack all the more. With the marriages they each had respectively, they had needed each other, for coziness and solace and warmth.

Faith had loved her brother desperately, and she thought it would kill her when he died. It hadn't, but a part of her had wandered like a lost soul since that day, as though it had lost its home. She couldn't tell her daughters or anyone else the kinds of things she had shared with Jack, and always had. There had never been anyone else like him in her life. He had never disappointed her, or failed to be there for her. He had never forgotten to make her laugh, or tell her how much he loved her, and she had done the same for him. He had been the sunshine in her life, the heart, the life preserver she had clung to at times. And now with Alex snoring softly next to her, and her daughters having moved away, Faith quietly turned off the light, and felt silently adrift in a lonely sea.

2

ALEX HAD ALREADY LEFT FOR CHICAGO WHEN FAITH woke up with the alarm at eight o'clock the next day. The funeral was at eleven, and she had promised to pick up her stepsister in the limousine. Allison was fourteen years older than Faith, and at sixty-one, she seemed a thousand years old to her. She had children who were nearly Faith's age. The oldest of them was forty, and Faith scarcely knew them. They all lived in Canada, in the north of Quebec. Allison had never had any particular bond to her stepmother, nor to Faith. She was already married and had children herself when her father and Faith's mother had married. And her stepsiblings, Faith and Jack, were of no great interest to her.

Allison and her father weren't close, for the same reason he hadn't been close to Faith. Charles Armstrong had no particular use for girls. He'd been a graduate of West Point, and career army. He'd been forty-nine when he married Faith's mother, and recently retired. And he had treated his stepchildren like West Point cadets. He inspected their rooms, gave them orders, meted out punishments, and had left Jack out in the rain all night once for failing a test at school. Faith had let him in her window and hidden him under her bed, and in the morning they had splashed water on him so his clothes would be wet, and he'd sneaked back outside when the sun came up. Charles hadn't caught on to it, but there would have been hell to pay if he had.

Their mother had never intervened on their behalf, just as she hadn't in their previous life. She avoided confrontation at all costs. All she wanted was a peaceful life. She'd had a difficult, emotionally barren first marriage. And two years of dire financial problems when her husband died and left her drowning in debt. She was grateful that Charles had rescued her, and was willing to take care of her and Jack and Faith. She didn't care that Charles seldom spoke to her, except to bark orders at her. All he seemed to want from her was that she was there and cleaned his house. And all he wanted from Faith and Jack was for them to follow orders, get good grades, and keep out of sight. It had helped set the stage for both of them to marry people who were as removed and unemotional as Charles and their mother had been, and Faith's father before that.

Faith and Jack had talked a lot about it the year before he died, when he and his wife had separated yet again. He and Faith had both been aware of the parallels in the relationships they had. They had married cool, aloof people, who were neither affectionate nor warm. Although Alex had seemed affectionate at first. But he had cooled rapidly by the time Eloise was born. And it had been a progressive cooling process after that, it was just the way he was. Faith no longer resented it, but accepted him as he was.

Alex was also far more sophisticated than Charles had been. Charles had been more of a rugged man's man, a West Point man to the bitter end. But in some ways, over the years, Alex had begun to remind her of Charles. Her mother had been long suffering. It was her defense to keep the world at bay. She managed to convey that life had disappointed her, without saying it in words, and yet she did what was expected of her, and had been married to Charles for thirty-four years when she died. She never seemed happy to Jack or Faith. It was not a marriage Faith would have wanted, and yet in an odd way, it was the one Faith herself had now. She wondered why she hadn't seen that when she and Alex married. And Debbie, Jack's wife, was just as cold to him.

Their history was what had made Faith determined to be overtly affectionate with Zoe and Eloise. She had gone to great efforts to go overboard the other way, and with Alex as well at first. But he had made it clear over the years that affection was something that not only made him uncomfortable, but that he didn't need from her. He needed an orderly life, a great career, a handsome house, and a wife who was there for him, doing what he expected her to do, while he conquered the business world. But he didn't want the little frills and flourishes and warmth Faith would have liked to offer him. So instead, all the love that came bubbling out of her, she lavished on her brother and her girls.

The limousine was waiting outside the house, when Faith left at ten-fifteen. She was wearing a black dress and coat, black stockings and high-heeled black leather pumps. Her blond hair was swept back in the same bun she had worn the day before, and the only jewelry she wore was the pair of pearl earrings that had been her mother's and that Charles had given her. Faith looked sedate and subdued and dignified, and beautiful, and despite what she wore, she looked younger than her years. There was something open and kind about her face, and she had an easy smile and gentle ways. When she wore blue jeans and her hair down, she still looked almost as young as her girls. Whatever sorrows she had had in recent years had not appeared on her face, and as she slipped onto the backseat of the limousine, she was thinking of Jack. He would somehow have managed to be irreverent, even about this somber day. He would have made it easier for her, and found some subtle levity or absurdity that he would have whispered to her. Just thinking of it, as they drove to Allison's hotel, made her smile in spite of herself. He had been full of mischief right up to his untimely and unexpected end.

Jack had been an attorney in a Wall Street law firm, and had been much loved by his colleagues and friends. Only Alex had found him undignified and had issues with him. The two men were at opposite poles on every subject, and Jack had found his brother-in-law tedious, although he rarely said as much, out of deference to her. He knew there was no point discussing it, Faith didn't like his wife either, and talking about it just made it more awkward for him. Their spouses were a taboo subject most of the time, except when they themselves chose to bring it up. And Jack was wise enough to offer as little criticism as possible, out of his deep love for her.

Allison and her husband were waiting outside the hotel when Faith stopped to pick them up. They looked like solid, decent older people. They had run a large prosperous farm in Canada for forty years. They had three sons nearly Faith's age who helped them run it, but hadn't come to the funeral, and a daughter who had stayed home because she was ill. Allison and her husband Bertrand seemed uncomfortable with Faith. She was sleek and citified, and although Allison had known her since she was a child, they had scarcely seen each other once adults, and their lives were centered in different worlds.

They inquired about Alex, and she explained that he had to fly to Chicago for the day. Allison nodded, she had only met him a few times, and he was like someone from another planet to her. They had been of no interest to him, and he had made no effort to talk to them when they met, and again when he saw them at Faith's mother's funeral. He knew that Allison meant little to Faith. They were virtually strangers to each other after being related for more than three decades, and Faith couldn't help wondering as they drove to the church if they would ever see each other again after today. She had no real attachment to her, and knowing that increased her sense of loss again. Allison was yet another person who was about to slip away from her. Her entire life seemed to be a peeling-off process. No one was entering her life anymore, everyone was exiting. Jack, her mother, Charles, her daughters in their own way … now Allison … she had begun to feel in recent months as though everything in her life now was about loss. And Charles's death, however timely and appropriate at eighty-four, seemed like yet another blow. Another departure. Another person moving away from her, abandoning her.

She and Allison and Bertrand said little to each other on the way to church. Allison seemed quiet and composed. She and her father rarely saw each other, and had never been close. She told Faith she wanted to invite people to come back to the hotel afterward, if there was anyone she wanted to include. She had taken over a large sitting room, and ordered a buffet, which Faith thought was a nice touch, and thoughtful of her when she offered it. It would be nice for their parents' friends.

“I'm not sure how many people I'll know,” Faith said honestly.

The obituary they'd given to the newspaper had said where the funeral was, and she had called a number of her parents' friends. But many of their old friends were gone, or in convalescent homes. Charles and her mother had lived in Connecticut for many years, and had had a number of friends there, but after her mother's death, Faith had moved Charles into town, to a care facility, and he had been ill for most of the past year. His death had come as no surprise to any of them. But it was hard to say how many people would come to his funeral service. Faith suspected that attendance would be pretty thin. They were going to the cemetery immediately after the funeral, to bury him. And she and Allison agreed that more than likely by one-thirty they'd be back at the hotel. They anticipated greeting people at the hotel for the remainder of the afternoon, and Allison and Bertrand were flying back to Canada at eight o'clock that night. Faith and Alex were going to a business dinner, which would be a good diversion after a depressing afternoon.

All three of them were surprised, as they entered a side door of the church, how many people had actually come and were already sitting in the pews. Charles had been a respected member of the community in the small town in Connecticut where they had lived. Surprisingly, Faith always felt, people had been fond of him, they thought him decent and upstanding, and even interesting. He had been stationed in some exotic places in his youth, and often had tales to tell, although he didn't share much of that with his wife or stepchildren. But people beyond his immediate circle had always thought well of Charles. He was not nearly as chilly to them, and made considerably more effort with them, which had always seemed odd to Faith. Particularly since he and her mother hardly ever seemed to exchange more than a few words, and she could never understand what her mother had seen in him, other than that he had been a solid citizen, and at one time a nice-looking man. But as far as Faith was concerned, her stepfather had been utterly without charisma or charm.

The service began punctually at eleven o'clock. Faith and Allison had chosen the music the day before, and the casket stood a few feet from them, under a large spray of white flowers. Faith had used her own florist for the flowers in the church, and offered to pay for it, and Allison was relieved. The service was a simple one, he had been Presbyterian, although Faith's mother was Catholic, and they had been married in the Catholic Church. But neither of them had been staunch about their faith, although Faith was, and Jack had been as well. They had often gone to mass together right up until the time he died.

The sermon was brief and impersonal, as seemed appropriate. Charles wasn't the kind of man about whom one would wax poetic or tell anecdotes. The minister listed his accomplishments, talked about his West Point background, his military career, and referred to Allison and Faith. He got confused, and assumed they were both Charles's daughters, but Allison didn't seem to mind. Everyone sang “Amazing Grace” at the end, and as they did, Faith felt tears begin to slide down her cheeks. For some reason, she had just had a vision of Charles when he was young, one time when they were children and he had taken them to a lake, and was trying to teach Jack to fish. Jack had had big bright eyes, and had looked lovingly at Charles for one of the rare times he did, when Charles wasn't berating them, and all she could see in her mind's eye, was Charles standing over Jack, showing him how to hold the pole, and Jack grinning from ear to ear…. It made her miss Jack far more than Charles, as she closed her eyes, and could almost feel the August sunshine from that day on her face. It made her heart ache thinking back to that time. It was all gone now, part of a lifetime of memories.

She couldn't stop the tears as they continued to slide down her face, and a sob caught in her throat, as the pallbearers from the funeral home slowly rolled the casket away, just as they had Jack's three years before. His friends had been his pallbearers, and he'd had so many of them. There had been hundreds of people at his funeral, and for Faith, the memory was only a vague blur. She had been so distraught that day that she could hardly remember it, which was merciful. But as she watched Charles's casket roll slowly down the aisle, it brought back agonizing memories for her, particularly as she followed Allison and Bertrand down the aisle. They stopped in the vestibule as the pallbearers took the casket to the hearse, and Charles's three surviving relatives waited to shake hands with friends.

They were halfway through the hundred or so mourners who had come, when Faith heard a voice behind her that was so familiar, all she could do was stare. She had been shaking the hand of a woman who had been one of her mother's friends, and before she could turn, he said a single word.

“Fred.” It brought a smile to her face in spite of the circumstances, and she was beaming as she turned. There was only one person in the world who had called her that, other than Jack. In fact, he had created it, and Jack had adopted it. It had been her nickname for all of her growing-up years. He had always said Faith was a stupid name for a girl, so he had called her Fred.

Faith turned with a broad smile and looked at him, unable to believe that he was there. He hadn't changed a bit in years, although he was the same age as Jack, and two years older than she. At forty-nine, Brad Patterson still looked like a kid when he grinned. He had green eyes the same color as hers, a long lanky body that had always been too thin, but seemed more reasonably so now. She had always told him he had legs like a spider when they were kids. He had a smile that stretched across his face irresistibly, a cleft chin, and a shock of dark hair that had not yet begun to go gray. Brad had been her brother's very best friend from the time he was ten. Faith had been eight the first time she had laid eyes on him, and he had painted her blond hair green for St. Patrick's Day. She, Jack, and Brad had thought it a terrific idea, although her mother had been considerably less amused.

Brad had come up with a million plots and pranks over the years, he and Jack had gotten into everything, and been inseparable for a dozen years. They had gone to Penn State together, and only separated finally when they both went off to law school. Brad had gone to Boalt at Berkeley, and Jack to Duke. Brad had fallen in love with a girl out there, and eventually stayed on the West Coast, and then somehow real life intervened. He married and had kids, he had twin sons roughly the same age as Eloise. And as time went by, Jack flew out to see him once every couple of years. But Brad stopped coming east. It had been years since Faith had seen him when he came to her brother's funeral. They had both been devastated and spent hours talking to each other about him, as though by telling everything they remembered about Jack they could bring him back to them. Brad had come back to the house with her, and met Zoe and Eloise. The girls had been fifteen and twenty-one then. Alex hadn't been terribly impressed by him, he thought him too West Coast, as he put it, and was dismissive of him, mostly because he was Jack's friend. But Faith didn't care, all she wanted to do was cling to him. She and Brad had exchanged letters for a year, and lost touch again finally. His own life seemed to devour him. She hadn't seen him since Jack's funeral, and hadn't heard from him in nearly two years. She was stunned to see him standing there, at Charles's memorial, and couldn't imagine how he had come to be there.

“What are you doing here?” The smile they exchanged could have lit up the entire church.

“I was in town for a conference, and saw the obituary in the paper yesterday. I thought it would be a decent thing to come.” He smiled at her just as he had nearly forty years before. He still looked like a boy to her, and in her heart he always would be, no matter how old he got. Their youth was all she saw. He was one of the three musketeers she and Jack had formed with him. And she smiled up at him, grateful that he had come. It made it easier for her suddenly, and made her feel as though Jack was also in their midst. “And I knew I'd see you here. You look great, Fred.”

He had teased her mercilessly as a kid, and she had had a crush on him when she was about thirteen. But by the time he left for college three years later, she had gotten over it, and was dating boys her own age. But he had remained one of her best friends. It saddened her that they had lost contact finally, but it was hard to maintain their friendship over distance and time. All they had was history, and the enormous affection she still felt for him. They both treasured endless memories of the years they had shared growing up.

She invited him to the hotel afterward, and he nodded, his eyes seeming to drink her in. He looked as moved to see her as she was to see him.

“I'll be there,” he said reassuringly. He had seen her crying as she sang “Amazing Grace,” as he had as well. He couldn't hear the hymn anymore without thinking of Jack's funeral three years before. It had been one of the darkest days of his life.

“It was nice of you to come,” she said, smiling up at him, as people on the receiving line moved around them to shake hands with Allison and Bertrand.

“Charlie was a nice old guy,” Brad said benevolently. He had some fond memories of him, fonder than Faith's. But he and Jack had done things with him Faith had never had the chance to do, like deer hunting, and fishing at the lake. He had been good about things like that, and it would never have dawned on him to include Faith. “Besides,” Brad added, “I wanted to see you. How are your girls?” he asked, and she smiled again.

“Great. But gone unfortunately. Eloise is in London, and Zoe is a freshman at Brown. How are the twins?”

“Terrific. They're spending a year in Africa, chasing lions around. They graduated from UCLA in June and took off right after that. I want to go see them one of these days, but I haven't had time.” Faith knew he had gone out on his own a few years before. He was doing some sort of community legal defense work, working with minors convicted of felonies. Jack had told her about it just before he died, and she and Brad had talked about it at the funeral. But she didn't have time to ask him about work now, Allison was signaling to her that they had to leave for the cemetery. Faith nodded and looked back at Brad.

“I've got to go…. Will you come to the hotel afterward? The Waldorf.” She looked like a kid again as she reminded him, and he smiled. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and give her a hug. Something in her eyes told him she'd seen hard times. He wasn't sure if it was Jack or something else, but there was something powerful and sad in her eyes that tugged at his heart, like when she was a kid and she looked sad. He had always felt protective of her and still did.

“I'll be there.” Faith nodded, and two people came between them and offered their condolences as they shook her hand.

Brad signaled good-bye to her, and then drifted off. He had some errands to do before he went to the hotel. He didn't come to New York often, and he wanted to stop at a few favorite haunts, and go to a couple of the shops he liked. He would have preferred to go to the cemetery with her, to offer his support, but he didn't want to intrude. He knew it would be hard for her, because of Jack. Funerals and cemeteries were all too familiar to her now. And he realized as he watched her get into the limousine and drive off behind the hearse that he hadn't seen her husband with her. He wondered if something had happened between them—if they'd split up—and if that was the sadness he'd seen in her eyes. He and Jack had talked about it after Faith had married, neither of them had been enthused about Alex. He had always seemed distant and cold to them, even then, but Faith had insisted to Jack he was a great guy and warmer than he looked. And Brad was no longer close enough to her now to ask how things were. But he found it odd that Alex wasn't there.

The brief interlude at the cemetery was perfunctory and grim. The minister read several psalms, and Allison said a few words, while her husband stood silently by. And then each of them left a rose on Charles's casket, and walked away quietly. They had agreed not to stay while it was lowered into the ground. It would have been too sad. Only a handful of people had come, and half an hour later, they were on their way back to the city again. It was a brilliantly sunny October day, and Faith was grateful at least that it hadn't rained. It had poured the day they'd buried Jack, which made it that much worse. Not that sunshine would have helped. Nothing would. It was without question the most agonizing day of her life.

Burying Charles was different for her. It was quiet and sad. It made her think of her mother, the marriage they'd had, and the childhood she and Jack had spent with them. Based on her experience with her own father, Faith had been afraid of Charles at first, when her mother had married him. She wasn't sure what to expect. But she had been relieved to find early on that he had no sexual interest in her, although he had been unyielding and stern. He had often shouted at them. The first time he'd done it, she had cried, and Jack had held her hand. Her mother had said nothing to Charles in their defense. She had never wanted to make waves, and hadn't stuck up for them, which seemed like a betrayal to Faith. All her mother had wanted was for everything to work, no matter what it took, whether she had to sacrifice herself or Faith or Jack. She deferred to Charles about everything, even her own kids. It was Jack who had always protected Faith. He had been her hero all his life until the day he died. It made her think of Brad again, and how pleased she was that he had come. Seeing him at the hotel was something to look forward to, as she tried to turn her thoughts away from painful memories. There were far too many of them.

The car pulled up outside the hotel, and Faith and Allison agreed to let it go then. Faith could either walk or take a taxi home, and Allison and Bertrand were going to take a cab to the airport at six o'clock. All they had left to do now as part of Charles's funeral was spend a few hours with his friends. As they walked into the hotel, Allison was still holding the folded flag they had taken off his casket at the cemetery. It made her look like a war widow, Faith thought, as they walked across the lobby, and took the elevator upstairs.

The room Allison had rented for the afternoon was simple and elegant. There was a grand piano in one corner, and a buffet covered with sandwiches, cookies, and cakes. There was coffee, and a waiter offering people drinks and wine. What she had provided to eat was basic but adequate, and the first people began to arrive almost as soon as Faith hung up her coat. And she was relieved to see that Brad was the third one there.

She just stood and smiled at him for a minute as he crossed the room to her. It made her think of how gangly he had been as a kid. He had always towered over her, and when she was really young, he used to throw her in the air, or push her on the swing. He had always been part of the furniture of her childhood and teenage years.

“How did it go?” he asked her, as a waiter handed him a glass of white wine and he took a sip.

“Okay. I don't do funerals anymore, if I can help it. But I couldn't avoid this. I hate cemeteries,” she said, with a fleeting frown, and they both knew why.

“Yeah, I don't like them much myself. Where's Alex, by the way?” Their eyes met and held, he was asking her more than just that, and she sighed and then smiled.

“He had to go to Chicago to see clients. He'll be back tonight.” There was nothing critical in her tone, but Brad thought he should have been there, for her. It annoyed him on her behalf that he wasn't, but he was also glad. It gave him time alone with her, to talk and catch up. It had been far too long since they'd talked.

“That's too bad. That he's in Chicago, I mean. How's everything else?” He perched on the arm of a chair, and was almost the same height as Faith as she stood and they talked.

“Okay, I guess. It's weird having both of the girls gone. I don't know what to do with myself. I keep saying I'll go to work, but I don't have any marketable skills. I was thinking of going back to law school, but Alex thinks I'm nuts. He says I'm too old to go back to school, or pass the bar.”

“At your age? Lots of people do. Why wouldn't you?”

“He says by the time I pass the bar, no one will hire me anyway.” Just hearing her say it annoyed Brad. He had never liked Alex anyway.

“That's nonsense. You'd make a great lawyer, Fred. I think you should.” She smiled in answer, and didn't try to explain to him how impossible it would be to convince Alex of that. He was a stubborn man.

“Alex thinks I should just stay home and relax, take bridge lessons, or something like that.” It sounded deadly to her, and Brad agreed. As he looked at her, he was remembering her long blond hair when she was a kid, and wished he could pull the pins out of her bun, for old times' sake. He had always loved her hair.

“You'd be bored to death. I think school is definitely the right idea. You ought to look into it.” It was exactly what Jack would have said, and it sparked her enthusiasm again, as a fresh group of people walked in, and she went to greet them. She recognized several faces, and thanked them for coming, and a little while later, she came back to Brad.

“So what's Pam doing these days? Are you working together at all anymore?” They were both attorneys, and had met at law school, although Pam had been a year ahead of him. Jack had gone to their wedding and been best man, but Faith had only met her once. Pam had seemed hard and more than a little daunting to her, but smart certainly. Brad had definitely met his match in Pam.

“Hell, no,” Brad grinned. “She's still working in her father's firm. He keeps threatening to retire, but he's seventy-nine and hasn't yet, so I don't know if he ever will. She's a litigator and she thinks I'm insane for what I do.”

“Why?” What he did had sounded both interesting and noble to Faith. According to what he'd said the last time they met, he was defending a wide assortment of kids accused of some fairly major crimes.

“No money, for one thing. Most of the time I'm court appointed, the rest of the time I don't get paid, or not enough, according to her. I work days, nights, and weekends. She thinks I gave up a cushy job in her father's firm to hang around in county jail with a bunch of kids who are allegedly unsalvageable. The nice thing is that some of them actually do turn their lives around, if they get a break. It's interesting work. And it works better for me. You can come and clerk for me one summer if you go to law school,” he teased. “You'd have to work for free of course, or you could pay me, that would work.” They both laughed as they wandered to the buffet, and Allison introduced them to a couple Faith had never met. The crowd had begun to thin by midafternoon, but Allison thought they should stay till five out of courtesy, in case others arrived late. It gave Faith a chance to spend more time catching up with Brad.

“So what else, Fred?” Brad teased as they sat down again, after eating egg salad sandwiches with watercress, some strawberries, and petits fours. “Any misdemeanors? Felonies? Parking violations? Affairs? You can confess to me, I'm bound by confidentiality,” he said, and she laughed. He realized as he sat with her, how much he had missed seeing her in the last several years. It was so easy to drift apart with distance and time and busy lives, his at least. And yet the moment they were together, it was as though nothing had changed. And if anything, Jack's absence brought them closer together and provided a tighter bond. “So, what's the deal?” he pressed.

“No deal,” she said, crossing her legs, as they faced each other. He was still an incredibly handsome man, she realized, as she looked at him. All the girls had always been crazy about him, although it was always Jack who had gotten the best girls. He had had irresistible charm, and in some ways, Brad was shy. Faith had always loved that about him. “You'll be very disappointed. No misdemeanors or felonies. I lead a pretty boring life. That's why I want to go back to school. I've been out of a job since Zoe left for Brown. Alex is busy all the time. Ellie's gone too. That's about it. I do some charity work from time to time, organizing fundraisers. I can do that in my sleep.”

“What about affairs, Fred? You've been married for a hell of a long time. Don't tell me you've behaved all this time!” He'd done the same thing to her when they were kids. He'd always wormed all her secrets out of her, with his big brotherly way, and then teased her about them afterward. But this time she truly had nothing to tell.

“I told you. I lead a very boring life. And no, I've never had an affair. I don't think I'd have the guts, too complicated, besides, I've never seen anyone I want. I've just kept busy with the girls. It sounds embarrassingly dull, doesn't it?” She laughed and he grinned, his green eyes locked on her.

“You must still be madly in love with Alex then,” he said, and she looked away thoughtfully and then back at him. It was odd, all the same intimacy was still there between them, even after all these years. She trusted him, who he was now, and all he'd ever been to her. And he was standing in for Jack in a way. In some ways, at certain times, she had been even closer to Brad than to her brother. She and Brad were very similar. Jack had always been more outgoing than either of them, and more outrageous at times. She and Brad had always had a lot in common. And she had told him things in the past that she hadn't even told Jack.

“No,” she said honestly, “I'm not in love with him. Not ‘madly,’ as you put it. I love him, he's a good person, a good father, a good man. We're good friends. Actually, I'm not sure what we are anymore. I think his work is his first love, and he doesn't need anyone close to him, he never has. We live in the same house, share children, go out together to business dinners, and see friends occasionally. Most of the time, we go about our own lives. We don't have much to say to each other anymore.” He realized then that that was the sadness he had seen in her eyes.

“That sounds lonely, Fred,” he said quietly, although his own life was no better than hers. He and Pam had scarcely been more than acquaintances for years. Things hadn't been going well between them when he went out on his own professionally, and she had yet to forgive him for leaving her father's firm. She viewed it as an abandonment, and a betrayal of sorts. She had taken it personally, and couldn't see that what he was doing was better for him. It was diametrically opposed to everything she wanted and believed, for either of them. Making money, lots of it, was far more important to her.

“It is lonely sometimes.” She didn't want to tell him it was lonely all the time. It didn't seem fair to Alex to say that, and it sounded pitiful to admit that to Brad. “He's a very solitary person, and we have different needs. I love people, being with the kids, I used to love seeing friends, going to movies, hanging out together on weekends. We kind of lost all that. Alex can't see the point in doing anything unless it's related to his work.” Even his golf games were with clients, or people he wanted to get to know, and do business with eventually.

“God,” Brad said, running a hand through his hair and sitting back in his chair, with an agitated look. He hated to think of her living that way. She deserved so much more, which was what Jack had always said, and Brad agreed. “He sounds like Pam. All she cares about is how much money we make. And frankly,” he smiled at Faith sheepishly, “Scarlett, I don't give a damn. I mean sure, I wouldn't want to see us starving to death. But that's not going to happen. She makes a fortune at her father's firm, she has some very, very major clients. And he's going to leave the whole shebang to her when he retires, or dies, whichever comes first. We have more than enough put away. We have a great house. Terrific kids. What the hell more could we want? How much more do we need to make? The beauty of it is that I can afford to do what I want, I don't have to gouge clients, or do boring tax work for them. I love what I do, that means a lot to me. I think Pam is embarrassed by it, because I'm not making the kind of money she thinks I should. And in the end, who gives a damn except Uncle Sam on April fifteenth? We've got more than enough to leave the kids, and we live very comfortably. I figured it was time for me to give back. Someone should.”

“It makes sense to me,” Faith said thoughtfully. It sounded like he'd made the right decision, for himself at least. But it also sounded as though it had created a big rift between them.

“For Pam, it's all about status and prestige, who you know, what other people think, what clubs you belong to, what parties you get invited to. I don't know, maybe I am getting old, or weird, but I'd rather sit in a jail cell talking to some kid than go to a boring black-tie dinner and sit next to some old bag who doesn't work and doesn't have a goddamn thing to say.” He looked heated as he talked about it, and Faith smiled at him.

“I think that's me you're talking about. I think that's the best argument I've heard for going back to school.”

“Maybe it is,” he said honestly. “I don't know. I just knew I had to do something better with my life than estate planning, or listening to people whine about their taxes, and try to help them preserve their fortunes for their kids, who need to get out and make a living anyway, and probably never will. I think I might have killed someone if I'd stayed.” He had hated the years he'd worked at her father's firm and longed to get out.

“I get so bored with nothing to do all day,” Faith confessed. “I feel like I'm wasting my life. The girls have their own lives, Alex has his work. I don't know what to do with myself now that I'm not taking care of them. All I have to do is show up and cook dinner at night. I can only go to so many museums, and have lunch with so many friends.”

“You definitely should go back to school,” he sounded firm. “Unless you want to go back to work.”

“And do what? I haven't worked since before Ellie was born, and I was really only a glorified gofer then. You can do that at twenty-two, you can't at my age. It doesn't make sense. The trouble is I'm not sure what does anymore. But Alex is going to have apoplexy if I go back to school.”

“Maybe it threatens him,” Brad volunteered, as Faith thought about it. “Maybe he likes knowing you have nothing to do and are dependent on him. I think that was part of it with Pam. I think she liked knowing I worked for them. It made me feel claustrophobic as hell. I'd much rather screw up and go down the tubes on my own.”

“I'm sure that won't happen,” Faith said reassuringly. “It sounds like you're doing fine, or at least you're doing the right thing. And it doesn't sound like the money is really an issue for either of you.” It was a nice position to be in.

“The money is a major issue to her. It's how she measures herself, by her success, and the money she brings in. I don't think that in the end that's what counts. When I die, I want to know I made a difference to someone, that I changed a life or two, that I saved a kid, and kept them from destroying their lives. I can't tell myself that by saving tax dollars for people who have too much money anyway.”

“I think Alex and Pam may be twins.” Faith smiled at him. She had always loved his values and views, even when they were kids. And she was sorry when Allison reminded her that they had to give up the room at five o'clock, and she was leaving for the airport at six.

“I think it went off pretty well,” she said to Faith. They all looked tired, but a lot of Charles's old friends had come by, and it had been an afternoon of affection and respect.

“You did a lovely job,” Faith said, wondering suddenly if they would ever see each other again, and although they had never even been friends, thinking about that saddened her. “Charles would have been pleased.”

“I think he would,” Allison said, as both women got their coats, and Bertrand signed the check. He had insisted that they wanted to pay for it. Faith had paid for the flowers at the church, which had come to almost the same amount.

Brad walked to the elevator with them. Allison and Bertrand were going upstairs to pick up their things. And Faith had to go down to the lobby to get a cab.

“When do you leave?” Faith asked Brad as they waited for the elevator with Allison and Bertrand.

“Tomorrow morning,” he said as the up elevator arrived and Faith and Allison embraced, while Bertrand held the door for them.

“Take care of yourself, Faith,” Allison said. She appreciated everything Faith had done for the past two days. They both had the same sense that their paths might not cross again.

“I will, you too. Call me sometime.” They were the words of people who had nothing to talk about, but who shared a sliver of history.

They got in the elevator and Faith waved as the doors closed, and she turned to Brad after they had, with tears in her eyes. “I'm so tired of losing people … of saying good-bye … and people who leave my life and never come back.” He nodded and took her hand in his as their elevator came, and they rode in silence on the way down.

“Are you in a rush to get home?” he asked as they crossed the lobby to the Park Avenue doors.

“Not terribly. We're going out tonight, but not till eight o'clock. I have time.”

“Do you want to have a drink somewhere?” he asked even though they had just spent the entire afternoon eating and drinking in the room upstairs.

“What about walking me home?” It was twenty-four blocks, a decent walk, and she wanted some air. Brad liked the idea, and they went through the revolving door and headed north up Park Avenue arm in arm.

They were quiet for a little while, and then both spoke at the same time.

“What are you going to do now, Fred?”

“What are you working on when you go back?”

They laughed and he answered first. “I'm trying to get a kid acquitted who accidentally shot his best friend. Possibly not so accidentally as it so happens. They were both in love with the same girl. He's sixteen, and charged with attempted murder in the first degree. It's a tough case, and he's a nice kid.” It was routine stuff for him.

“I can't compete with that,” she said, as they walked in easy stride side by side, in spite of his long legs. He was remembering how to adjust his steps to hers. They had gone on a lot of walks together in the old days. “Actually, I'm not doing a thing.”

“Yes, you are,” he said easily, and she looked surprised. “You're going to call Columbia and NYU and whatever other school appeals to you, and get the catalogs and registration forms for the law schools. You'll have to find out about the exams you have to take. You have a lot to do.”

“You've got my work cut out for me, don't you?” She looked amused, but she had to admit, she liked the idea, and so did he.

“I'm going to call you next week and find out how much progress you've made. And if you've dropped the ball, I'm going to raise hell with you. You've got to get off your ass, Fred. It's time.” He had walked back into her life as a stand-in older brother. Just like the old days. She didn't disagree with what he was saying to her, but she still didn't know how to sell Alex on it, or if she could. And she also didn't know if she was brave enough to defy Alex entirely. That didn't seem like a good idea, and challenging him had always frightened her. Some lingering memory of her father's criticisms and betrayals of her had always made her hesitant about standing up to men. At some deep, hidden level, she suspected she was afraid. The only men who'd never frightened her were Jack, and of course Brad.

“Do you have e-mail, by the way?” He was matter of fact as he asked, as they moved into the Sixties. It was getting dark, and Park Avenue was brightly lit, as people went home from work.

“Yes, I do. I just bought a laptop so I could e-mail Zoe. I'm getting pretty good.”

“What's your address?”

“FaithMom@aol.com.”

“You should change it to Fred,” he said, smiling down at her. “I'll write to you when I get back to San Francisco.”

“I'd like that, Brad,” she said, it would be nice to stay in touch with him this time. She hoped they would both make the effort. If he had time. His life was far busier than hers. “Thank you for being there today. You made it a lot easier for me.”

“I had some good times with Charlie a long time ago. I figured I owed it to him.” She still had trouble thinking of Charles in that context, but clearly he had been a lot more interested in Jack and Brad than he had ever been in her, or Allison. “And I wanted to see you.” His voice became gentler as they walked along, they were halfway to her house. “How are you doing without him?” They both knew who he meant, he was talking about her brother.

“Not so great sometimes,” she said, looking at the pavement as they walked, and thinking of him. He had been such an extraordinary person. There had never been anyone else like him, and never would be in her life again. “Other times, better. It's weird, sometimes I'm fine about him for months, and then all of a sudden, it hits me. Maybe it will always be like that.” She had spent a lot of time alone, wrestling with her grief, since he died. That had been another thing that had isolated her from friends. Grief was a solitary thing. And she had often gone to church alone, to pray for him. It was comforting. She had tried to talk to Alex about how much she missed her brother, but it made him uncomfortable, and it was awkward discussing it with him. He didn't like hearing about it. She had gone to see a psychic once, who had “channeled” Jack, and Alex had had an absolute fit when she told him, and forbade her to ever do it again or discuss it with him. He said it was a sick thing to do, and the psychic had taken advantage of her. But actually, Faith had liked it. She had gone back two more times, and never told Alex. And as they walked, she told Brad about it. He wasn't convinced of its veracity either, but saw no harm in it if it made her feel better. There seemed to be nothing wrong with it, to him.

“I miss him too, Fred,” he said gently. Brad was a gentle person. “It's so odd thinking that he's gone. I still can't believe it. I go to call him sometimes, I reach for the phone, when something funny happens, or I'm upset, or bothered about something, or need advice … and then I remember. It doesn't seem possible. How does someone like Jack just disappear? He's the kind of guy who should have lived forever. Do you ever hear from Debbie?” For reasons of her own, she had also vanished. She had maintained no contact whatsoever with Jack's family. Faith didn't even know where she was now, other than in the vicinity of Palm Beach. Or at least that was where she'd gone when she left, and then vanished.

“I never hear from her,” Faith answered. “I don't know that I ever will again. I think she knows I never liked her, although I tried for Jack's sake. She really jerked him around.” She had threatened to leave him regularly, separated from him repeatedly, and never appreciated what a terrific person he was. It had irked Faith constantly, although Jack had defended Debbie staunchly to Faith for all the years that they were married. “I always thought their relationship was sick. I don't know why he put up with it. She hardly said two words to me at the funeral, she left town two weeks later without saying good-bye, and Jack's lawyer told me that she had remarried. She used the insurance money to buy a house, and then married some guy. I think Jack got a raw deal from her.”

“I always thought so too. I think it's too bad they never had kids.”

“She probably wouldn't have let me see them anyway,” Faith said unhappily, and then looked up at Brad again. It was so nice talking to him about Jack, and life, and old times. “Are you really going to e-mail me?” she asked, looking young again, and he wanted to tell her to take down her hair so she'd look like the Fred he had always loved. She was the little sister he had never had, and had always been. And in some ways, she still seemed like a kid to him, and he felt protective of her.

“I told you I would.” He put his arm around her again and held her close as they walked. She was almost home.

“You won't drift away again? I miss you when I don't hear from you. There's no one left from my childhood anymore, except you.”

“You'll hear from me, Fred. I promise. But I want you to look into schools too. The world needs more lawyers like you.” They both laughed at that. And a few minutes later, they were standing outside her house. It looked elegant and respectable, with freshly painted black trim against the brick, and a narrow clipped hedge out front.

“Thank you for coming today, Brad. It's weird to say, but it actually ended up being a nice day. It's a funny thing to say about a funeral,” but it had meant a lot to her to spend time with him. She was happier than she had been in a long time. She felt comfortable and at peace, and safe, and loved, almost the way she had been as a little girl, when she was hanging out with him and Jack. They were the only thing about her childhood that she had loved.

“I think Charlie would have enjoyed himself if he'd been there. I'm glad I went. It's been a long time since you and I talked. Take care of yourself. I worry about you.” He looked down at her with concern, and she looked up at him with a brave smile.

“I'll be fine. Have a safe trip back to California, and don't work too hard.”

“That's the part I like best,” he admitted to her. Other than his sons, it was the only thing that really meant something to him in his life. He didn't have a lot of common ground left with Pam, and was no longer sure he ever had.

Brad gave her a big hug then, and hailed a cab, and she watched him get in and drive away. He rolled down the window just before they turned the corner, and gave her a last wave. Faith wasn't entirely sure she would hear from him again. He had drifted out of her life several times. After law school, and again after Jack's funeral. But at least they had shared this one lovely day. And in an odd way, it had been like sharing a visit not only with him, but with Jack. She was still smiling to herself when she turned the key and walked into the house.

She could hear Alex moving around upstairs. She hung up her coat, and walked slowly up the stairs, thinking of Brad.

“How was it?” Alex asked her, as she walked into their bedroom, and she looked at him with a smile.

“Nice. Everything went fine. Allison rented a room at the Waldorf, and a lot of people came by afterward. A lot of his friends, and my mom's. And Brad Patterson, I hadn't seen him since … in a long time.”

“Who's that?” Alex looked distracted. The television was on and he'd been watching the news. He was standing in his boxer shorts and socks, buttoning a freshly starched white shirt. And as he talked to her, he knotted his tie.

“He's a friend of Jack's. His best friend, in fact. We grew up together. You met him at Jack's funeral. He lives in San Francisco. You probably don't remember him.” There had been so many people there, and Alex never paid close attention to details like that, or people who were of no use to him. Brad would have fit into that category for him.

“No, I don't. Will you be ready in time?” He looked concerned. It was an important evening for him. It was a dinner party given by one of the senior partners of the firm, for a new client they had just signed. And he didn't want to be late. But Faith seldom was.

“I'll be ready in half an hour. I'll take a quick bath, and do my hair. How was Chicago?”

“Tiresome. But necessary. It went all right.” He didn't ask her anything about the funeral, but she wasn't surprised. Once he knew he wasn't going, he had swept it from his mind.

She walked into the bathroom then, and as promised, emerged half an hour later, wearing a black silk cocktail dress and a string of pearls, with her makeup on, and her hair combed straight down her back. She looked more like one of his daughters than his wife. They both had Faith's blond hair. Alex looked her over appraisingly and nodded, and didn't say anything. It would have been nice to hear him say she looked beautiful, but he hadn't done that in a long time.

They left the house five minutes later, and hailed a cab. The dinner party was ten blocks down Park Avenue, and Alex didn't say anything to Faith as they rode downtown. She didn't notice. Her mind was a million miles away. She was thinking about Brad. It had been so nice talking to him all afternoon. She hadn't confided in anyone that way in such a long time. Not since the last time she had talked to him, when Jack had died. It made her feel suddenly as though someone was interested in her life, her worries, her fears, the things that mattered to her. She had found in him the family she had been longing for and felt she had lost in the past few years. It reminded her of something she forgot at times these days, that someone cared about her, and she was loved.

3

ALEX WENT BACK TO CHICAGO THE FOLLOWING WEEK, and surprisingly he actually made an effort to spend some time with Faith over the weekend when he got back. They went for a walk in Central Park on Saturday and then had an early dinner at a nearby restaurant on Sunday night. Alex spent the day in the office on Sunday, but it had been a surprise when he offered to take her out after she got back from church. He rarely spent time with her on weekends anymore, and she was touched that he had. He was planning to be in Chicago again the following week.

Faith called Zoe on Monday night, and asked if she had some spare time. Faith had been missing her a lot, and suggested she come up to visit, and Zoe was thrilled. She and her mother had always been close. She suggested that Faith come to Providence on Tuesday night. She wanted to stay at the hotel with Faith, although she had two roommates she liked. And Faith was smiling when she hung up and booked a room.

On Tuesday night, Faith got off the plane, took a cab into Providence, and checked into the hotel. Zoe arrived half an hour later, with a small overnight bag, and the two looked more like sisters than mother and daughter as they chatted and laughed and hugged, and sprawled out comfortably in the cozy room. They went out to dinner that night, and Faith told her about Charles's funeral, and seeing Brad. She had told both her daughters endless stories about growing up with him and Jack, and Zoe could see easily how happy it had made her to see her old friend.

“I talked to him about going back to school,” Faith told her over dessert. She and Zoe had talked about it before Zoe left for Brown, and she thought it an excellent idea. But she hadn't heard anything about it since, and was glad to hear that her mother hadn't abandoned the possibility. She knew that she needed something to do with her life.

“I think it's a great idea, Mom,” Zoe encouraged her. She knew how lonely her mother had been ever since she and Ellie had left home. “Have you done anything about it yet?”

“I thought I'd get some catalogs, and check into the tests I'd have to take. I'd have to prepare for the LSAT. I'm not even sure I could pass, let alone get into law school.” She looked nervous about it, but excited as well, and Zoe was thrilled. Faith looked happier and more animated than Zoe had seen her look in months. “I could take some general law courses at the NYU School of Continuing Education, and a prep course for the LSAT, which I'd need. I haven't decided yet, but it would be fun, and a lot more interesting than the bridge lessons Dad thinks I should take.” She smiled ruefully at Zoe.

“Good for you, Mom.” And then the pretty blonde, who was the image of her mother, frowned. She knew all the obstacles Faith would have to face. And Faith did too. “Have you told Dad?”

“Not yet. We talked about it a while back. He wasn't too pleased.” It was a modest understatement of the facts, as Zoe knew.

“There's a surprise. Not. The Iceman doesn't like the idea of you being independent, Mom. He just wants you to sit around the house, waiting to take care of him.”

“That's not a nice thing to say about your father,” Faith said loyally, but they both knew it was true. “He actually suggested I do some more charity work. He likes it when I keep busy.”

“As long as it's not something that threatens him.” She was surprisingly astute. “And you've done enough charity work. You've taken care of all of us, now you need to do something for you.” Zoe was always quick to champion her mother's cause, and she and her father had had a running battle for years. She said openly that all her father cared about was his work. As far as she was concerned, her father had been a nonparticipant in their family for most of her life. She was well aware that her mother had always been there for them. She and her older sister had heated arguments over it. Eloise had always hotly defended their dad, although she loved her mother too. But Zoe spoke openly about how emotionally unavailable their father was, and she thought that their mother had gotten a raw deal. “I really want you to do it, Mom. I'm going to bug you till you do.”

“You and Brad,” Faith smiled. “What if I don't do well on the test? I may not even be able to get in. You have more faith in me than I do in myself. We'll see.” And she still had to talk to Alex about it. That was key.

“Those are just excuses, Mom. You'll get in. I think you'd make a great lawyer. And don't let Dad talk you out of it. If you make up your mind, there's nothing he can do to stop you. He'll just have to adjust to it.”

“Maybe I should let you discuss it with him,” Faith teased. But she was grateful for the vote of confidence and the support. Zoe had always been her staunchest supporter in the family.

Faith asked her about school then, her classes, and her friends. They were the last people to leave the restaurant, and went back to the hotel and talked for hours. And that night, they slept together in the king-size bed and Faith smiled at Zoe as she drifted off to sleep, thinking how lucky she was. Her daughters had been the greatest gift Alex had given her. And she was hoping to go to London to see Eloise soon. She had promised to come home for Thanksgiving, and Faith was thinking of going over for a few days after that. She had nothing but time on her hands. But that would change if she actually went back to school.

Zoe left the next morning at nine o'clock. They had just enough time for scrambled eggs and English muffins and a pot of tea, before Zoe gave her mother a hug and a kiss and dashed off. And at ten o'clock Faith was on her way back to the airport, lost in her own thoughts. On the way home from the airport, she asked the driver to take her to NYU. She went to the law school, and got an armload of flyers and catalogs, and some information about the tests she had to take, and then she stopped at the School of Continuing Education and got their brochures too. And she called Columbia when she got home.

She spread out the information she'd gotten on her desk, and sat staring at it with a look of awe. It was one thing to get the catalogs and another to get into the school, and she still had no idea how to convince Alex to agree. Zoe thought she should present him with a fait accompli, but Faith thought that was inconsiderate and rude. He had a voice in the matter too. It was a big commitment for her to make, particularly if she went to law school next fall. She would have homework and exams, and hours of studying to do. She wouldn't be as available as she had been, and she knew it would be a big adjustment for him. She was still thinking about it when she glanced at her computer and saw that she had mail. She assumed it was from Zoe, clicked on the mailbox, and was surprised and pleased to see that it was from Brad.

“Hello, Fred. How are you? What's new? Do you have the catalogs yet? If not, get off your ass right now and head out the door. I don't want to hear from you till you've done your research. No time to waste. Maybe you can start taking classes in January. Hurry up!

“Otherwise, how's by you? It was good to see you last week. You look better than ever. Is your hair still as long as it used to be? I'll be happy to paint it green anytime you feel the need, St. Paddy's day or not. Pink for Valentine? Red and green for Christmas? I thought the green looked pretty good, if memory serves.

“Have been swamped since I got back. Working on the case I told you about. The poor kid is scared to death. I have to get this one off. No small feat. What kind of law interests you by the way? I think you'd be great as a children's advocate, unless you want to go for the big bucks of course. In that case, you should talk to Pam. Corporate law is interesting, though not my cup of tea, but maybe yours.

“Have to get back to work…. Off to school with you. Take care. Keep me posted. Love, Brad.”

Faith sat smiling as she stared at the screen, and hit the reply button immediately. She was very proud of herself that she already had the NYU catalogs on her desk and could report that to him. She felt like a kid as she typed her message to him.

“Hi, Brad, just got back from Providence. Had a great time with Zoe last night, dinner, chatter, lots of giggles and hugs. She seconded your idea. I stopped at NYU on the way home—you'd better be proud of me!!—and picked up the catalogs, thousands of them, and all the info I need. Called Columbia and asked for theirs. Not sure if I should apply to more schools. In any case, I've held up my end. Will read the catalogs carefully this week. Alex is in Chicago. I still have to tell him. I'm not sure how he'll react, or actually I am. He'll go through the roof. He may put his foot down, and then what? Not worth starting World War III over my law career. That may be the end of it. We'll see.

“I like your idea about children's advocacy. Sounds good at least. Not sure what it entails. But I have always had a soft spot for kids. That's putting the cart before the horse at this point. First, Alex. Then exams, applications … will I get in??? What if I don't??? Feels like high school again.” She had suffered the agonies of the damned with Zoe the year before, while she waited to hear from her first-choice colleges. Brown had been her favorite among all of them, and she was thrilled when she got in. Alex had wanted her to go to Princeton, Harvard, or Yale, and was crushed when she turned down all three of them to go to Brown. He had gone to Princeton and wanted her to go there, but Zoe was adamant, although her father called Brown a “hippie school.” Zoe just laughed at him. It had been “everyone's first choice,” according to her.

“Otherwise, nothing new here.” She continued her e-mail to Brad. “No news from Eloise. I assume she's fine. She loves London. I want to go over and visit her, while I have the time. I'm going to be seriously tied down if I start school.” Just talking to him and Zoe about it, the plan was becoming real. “If you come to New York again, give me a call. In the meantime, this is fun. Send me another e-mail when you have time. I know how busy you are, so don't worry about it. Anytime will do. Much love, Fred.” She smiled again as she signed her name.

And she was rifling through one of the catalogs when her computer spoke up and told her “You've got mail” again. She smiled and clicked on the icon again. He must have been sitting at his desk when her e-mail arrived, because he had already answered her.

“Good girl! Now read the catalogs, and sign up for some classes at Continuing Ed next term. It can't hurt and will get you in the mood. And screw Alex. Fred, he cannot make your decisions for you. He has no right to stop you, if this is really what you want to do, and I think it is. He'll get used to it. If you had a job, you'd be busy and tied down too. You can't just sit there, wandering around the house, waiting for him to come home so you can wait on him. You need a life too! He has his. Now it's time for yours! Have to run. More soon. Sign up. Be good. Love, Brad.”

It was fun hearing from him, and writing to him. She deleted their exchange, particularly the “screw Alex,” which sounded like something Jack would have said to her. She spent the rest of the afternoon reading the catalogs. But she didn't say anything about it to Alex when he called her from Chicago that night. Something as delicate as suggesting that she go back to school had to be handled face-to-face. And when he came home on Friday night, he looked drained.

Faith had to be registered with the law school data assembly service by December first. Her law school applications were due on February first. Their answer would come in April. She had filled out the forms to sign up for two general law classes in January and an LSAT prep crash course that started very soon and lasted eight weeks, in time to take the LSAT after Christmas. But she had not yet sent the forms in. She really wanted to talk to Alex first. And he was in no mood to do anything but eat and go to bed when he got home. He went to the office on Saturday, and stayed until late that night. It was Sunday before she felt she could broach the subject with him. He was reading the Sunday Times, and the football game was on, droning away on the TV, as she brought him a cup of soup and a sandwich. He didn't look up from the paper, or say anything to her, as she sat across from him, nervously thumbing through the Book Review and the Sunday Times magazine.

“I saw Zoe this week,” she began, as he turned the sound up on the TV. “She looks great and she loves it there,” Faith went on, trying to make herself heard.

He answered without looking at her. “I know, you said. How are her grades?”

“Fine, I guess. She has midterms soon.”

“I hope she's doing the work, and not just playing up there.” She had always been an outstanding student, and Faith wasn't worried about her. She was looking for an opening to discuss her own education with him, but it wasn't easy between the television and the newspaper. He seemed mesmerized by both, and he had a stack of reading next to him. She was going to have to jump in at some point, he wasn't going to turn his attention to her unless she forced him to. She waited another five minutes, and then did.

“I want to discuss something with you,” Faith said cautiously. She could feel her palms sweat, and hoped he would be reasonable. It wasn't easy to talk to him sometimes, and she was beginning to wonder if she should wait, when he finally focused on her, and took a long sip of the soup.

“Good soup.”

“Thanks. I was talking to Zoe about NYU.” She took the leap, and felt as though she were diving into cement. She could see why Zoe called him what she did. He seemed like an iceman at times, even to her. Faith told herself that it wasn't that he didn't care about them, it was that he had more important things on his mind. It was what she had always told herself, and the girls. Alex wasn't easily approachable, for any of them, except maybe Eloise, who seemed to have a knack with him. But it was up to Faith to convince him now. No one else was going to do it.

“Is she thinking of transferring?” He looked shocked. “I thought you said she was enjoying it. I told her she should have gone to Princeton or Yale.”

“No,” Faith said quietly. “It isn't about her. It's about me.”

“What about you?” He looked blank. And suddenly she could see Brad and Zoe standing over her, and telling her what she had to do.

“I'd like to take some classes at NYU.” It was like dropping a bomb on him, Faith knew.

“What kind of classes?” He looked instantly suspicious of her.

“Some general law classes at the School of Continuing Education. They sound very interesting,” she added, feeling nervous. He was staring at her, and he looked anything but pleased.

“That's ridiculous, Faith. You don't need to study law. What would you do with it? Why don't you take a class at the museum, that would be much more interesting for you.” He was trying to head her off before she said her piece. But she knew she had to forge ahead. All she could do now was pray that he'd agree. The nature of their marriage had been such that, for twenty-six years he had had veto power over everything she did. And it was too late to change that now. It had started out as mutual agreement about many things, and over the years it had become clear to everyone that Alex ran a dictatorship. Ultimately, he had the final say, and made the rules. Because of her own psychological history, she had accepted it that way.

“I've taken a lot of classes at the Met, Alex. I want to do something more interesting.” She had just pulled the pin on a hand grenade. All she had to do now was throw it at him.

“And then? What's the point of that, Faith?” He knew the answer before she answered him, but he wanted to hear it from her.

“I want to apply to law school for the fall.” She said it with quiet strength and no apology, as she held her breath.

“That's absurd. We've had this conversation before. A woman your age can't go to law school, Faith. No one will hire you when you graduate. You'll be too old.”

“I'd like to do it anyway. I think it would be fascinating. And maybe someone would hire me. I'm not that old, after all,” she said, doggedly pursuing the goal she had finally set for herself, no matter what he thought.

“That's beside the point. Do you have any idea how much work is involved? You're going to be locked in this house studying for the next three years. And then what? You get a job and work fourteen hours a day? You won't be able to travel, you'll never be able to go out at night. You'll be telling me that we can't entertain or go anywhere because you have exams. If that was what you wanted to do, you should have thought of it before the girls were born. You could have finished law school when you started, but you didn't. It's too late now. You just have to face it.”

“It's not too late. The girls are gone, Alex. I have nothing to do. And I can juggle my schedule and studying so we can still go out at night. We never travel together anymore, except for a few weeks in the summer, and I can get away then. I promise you, I'll do my best to manage it so it won't interfere with you.” She looked imploringly at him, to no avail.

“That's impossible!” he exploded finally. “There's no point being married if you're going to be locked up for the next three years. You might as well go to jail, or medical school! I can't believe how unreasonable you are. How can you even suggest a thing like that? What's wrong with you?”

“I'm bored to death,” she said quietly. “You have your work and your life, Alex,” she said, quoting Brad. “I'd like mine too. My old friends either have jobs or kids still at home. They're all busy, and I don't want to take bridge lessons, or do charity work, or take courses at the Met. I want to do something real. And I've already done a year of law school. If they give me credit for it, it might knock off a year.”

“It's too late for all that,” he growled at her, slamming his empty soup mug down next to him. He seemed to be visibly threatened by what she had proposed. Perhaps he realized it meant that she would have a life of her own, and he would have less control.

“It's not too late. I'm forty-seven years old. I'll be fifty when I pass the bar.”

“if you pass the bar. It's not easy to pass, you know.” He was implying that she wasn't capable of it, which was another form of control. The implications of what he'd said weren't lost on her. But she forced herself to stay calm. She knew it was the only way she would win.

“Alex, this is important to me.” The way she said it silenced him, but not for long.

“I'll think about it, Faith. But I think this is a harebrained scheme.” He looked immensely irritated then, and turned the sound on the television up so loud that there was no way to talk to him. But at least she had told him what she wanted to do, and she knew that now she had to let him think about it. What he decided in the end was another matter. But she could argue about that with him then. And Zoe was planning to talk to him about it too. She wanted to give her mother a hand convincing him, since it was so important to her that Alex agree. She felt she needed his approval before she could allow herself to do what she wanted to.

Faith retreated quietly into her study, and clicked on her e-mail.

“Bulletin from Hiroshima,” she began her e-mail to Brad. “I dropped the bomb. I told Alex. He's furious. He doesn't think I'll get into school, pass the exams, or the bar. Says it's a complete waste of time, and major inconvenience to him. I'm not winning any popularity contests here. And I don't think he'll agree. I'd still like to do it, but really can't if he's opposed to it, that wouldn't be fair to him. I am married after all, and he has a right to expect something from me. Alex says that I'll be too busy studying to go out at night, or travel with him, which is actually a pretty reasonable point, particularly once I start law school. It's a constant grind. Anyway we'll see. I may be signing up for bridge lessons after all. More soon. Hope all is well with you. Love, Fred.”

She checked her computer that afternoon, but there was no answer from him until late that night. Alex hadn't spoken to her all afternoon, and they had eaten dinner in icy silence. And shortly afterward, he'd gone to bed without saying a word. He was leaving the house at four A.M. to fly to Miami, for meetings he had scheduled there for two days. Faith had crossed the line, as far as he was concerned, and it was clear to her how angry he was. He was punishing her.

It was nearly midnight in New York when Brad's e-mail came in. “Dear Fred, Never mind what's fair to him. What about what's fair to you? This is not the Dark Ages … or is it??? He reminds me of Pam, and all her arguments when I decided to go out on my own. You have the right to pursue your dream. It's not fair of him to stand in your way. I understand his concerns, but I am convinced that you could handle it well. And although he won't admit it, I'm sure he is too. It probably threatens him. So don't give in! Don't give up. As your self-appointed older brother, I forbid you to take bridge lessons. Go to school, like a good girl!!! Hang tough.

“I'm in the office, working late. We have a hearing tomorrow on a new case. A fifteen-year-old accused of raping an eight-year-old girl. I hate cases like this. Court appointed. Seems like a decent kid, but he clearly has some serious problems. Heavy-duty abuse at home.

Kids do what they learn and what's been done to them. I'll call you sometime this week, and we can talk about how things are going there.

“Talk to you soon. Love, Brad.”

He was right of course. Faith knew it. But it was easy for him to say, and harder for her to live with. She was married to Alex after all, and he was still visibly angry at her when he woke up the next day at three A.M. for his trip. Faith got up, as she always did when he left town, and made him coffee and toast. But due to the hour and their conversation the day before, he said not a word and glowered at her before he left at four. They didn't have time to discuss her academic plans again, but he had made it obvious that he considered it an act of war. She was upset about it all morning, and called Brad in the office that afternoon. It was nice to hear his voice. He had just come back from court.

“I'm glad you called me,” he said, trying not to sound distracted. There were a thousand things going on, but he was concerned about her, and wanted to give her support. “I've been worried about you all day.”

“Given what you have on your plate, I feel guilty for even calling you.” But she was suddenly very grateful to have him back in her life. It was the kind of call she would have made to Jack. She wanted to bounce her thoughts and feelings off him, and hear what he had to say.

“He's being totally unreasonable, Fred. You know it as well as I do. How have you let him get away with this for all these years? You're not his slave for chrissake, he doesn't own you. You're married to him. He has to hear what you want too.”

“No one's told him that yet,” Faith said, smiling ruefully as she listened to Brad.

“Then you should. I don't know another woman who would put up with that from him. Pam would kill me if I told her what to do. We have some pretty rotten arguments, and we fought for months when I left her father's firm, but she still respected my right to do what I needed to do. She didn't like it, but she knew that in the end she had to suck it up and live with it. You can't let him tell you what to do.”

“He always has. That's what he expects,” she said, embarrassed by the admission.

“Then move him into this century, Fred. That's your job here. He may consider it bad news, but slavery is dead.”

“Not for him,” and then she felt instantly guilty for what she'd said. “I shouldn't say that. He's just used to running things at the office, and he expects to do the same at home.”

“Listen, I would like to be King of California, or maybe even President of the United States, if it weren't such a rotten job, but that's not likely to happen, in either case. We'd all like to run the world if we had the chance. But we can't just run each other. What kind of life are you going to have if you don't do this? What are you going to do for the next forty years? Stay home and watch TV?”

“I think that's what he has in mind.” She sounded discouraged, she knew Brad was right. But he didn't know Alex. He would make her life miserable if she didn't do what he said. He always did.

“He can't do that to you. You can't let him. And I won't let you. I think I came to Charlie's funeral for a reason. I think Jack sent me to you to kick your ass.”

“Now there's an appealing prospect,” she said, laughing. “Maybe you're right.”

“What would Jack say if you told him about this?” Brad asked. It was an interesting question, and he knew the answer before she said the words.

“He'd be mad as hell. He hated Alex. And Alex didn't think much of him. They were always at each other's throats.”

“For good reason, if this is what Alex did to you when Jack was alive. You didn't answer my question. What would Jack say?” He wanted her to think about it. He knew her brother would hold more sway than he.

“He'd tell me the same thing you did. Go to school.”

“I rest my case.”

“You don't have to live with Alex.”

“Maybe neither should you. If he can't behave like a civilized, decent human being, he doesn't deserve you. And I think Jack would have said that too.”

“Probably. But look at who he lived with. Debbie made Alex look easy to live with. She was a lot more unreasonable than he.”

“Look, all I want is for you to be happy. You didn't look happy to me when I saw you. You look bored and sad, and lonely. If this is what you want, go for it. More than anything, you need a dream. We all do. This is mine out here. I've never been happier in my life than since I opened this office.” The only trouble was he still had to go home at night, but he didn't say that to Faith. If he could have slept at the office, to avoid Pam, he would. Things had reached an almost intolerable level of late. He and Pam were what the English called “chalk and cheese.” It was not a good combination, but his parents had had an ugly divorce when he was in his teens, and he did not want to do the same thing. So he had made his peace with his differences with Pam. It was Pam who was nipping at his heels these days, complaining about everything he did, and arguing with him about the fact that he was never at home. And she was right. He didn't want to be. But he had no intention of leaving her, and knew he never would. It was simpler this way.

“Do I look as bad as that?” Faith sounded distressed. “I'm not that unhappy, Brad. We just have differences about some things.”

“And he's never there. You said so yourself. He didn't even come to Charlie's funeral with you. What's that all about?” He knew more than anyone about marital stress.

“I told you, he had to be in Chicago. He had meetings at Unipam.”

“So what? They could have waited a day. Charlie was only going to get buried once. You could have used the support.”

“It was okay … and you were there.”

“I'm glad I was. And listen, I can't criticize your marriage. My own is nothing to brag about either. All I'm saying is that if he's not there for you a lot of the time, he owes you one. He can't have it both ways. He can't do his own thing most of the time, and still expect you to sit home waiting for him. If he has a life, then you should have one too.”

“He doesn't see it that way.” She sounded discouraged.

“He will, if you refuse to give in. I promise. You have to stick up for yourself.”

“It's not that easy,” she said sadly. Alex had a will of iron, and he was going to torture her till she gave up, just as he had before.

“I know it's hard, Fred. But it's worthwhile. You have no choice. If you don't stick to your guns on this, your life will be miserable, and then you will feel old, and depressed. I think your mental health and well-being are at stake.”

“You make it sound like life and death,” she smiled as she sat in her small study and thought of him. He was a terrific friend.

“In some ways it is. I want you to really think about it.”

“I will.” What he had said to her made sense, she just didn't know how she was going to convince Alex. But maybe Brad was right, maybe with enough energy and conviction, she could. It was worth a try at least. “How's everything with you?”

“Busy. Crazy. I've got half a dozen new cases, big ones. We're up to our ears in shit.”

“Lucky you. It sounds like fun,” she said enviously.

“It is.” They chatted for a few more minutes, and then he had to get off, but he promised to e-mail her or call her soon, and she knew he would. He had been so amazingly helpful in these last two weeks. He had given her focus and perspective and strength, as well as love and support. It was an unbeatable combination and she was grateful to him. And more than that, he had strengthened her resolve to tackle Alex—and win.

4

WHEN ALEX CAME HOME FROM MIAMI, HE WAS IN A dreadful mood. Faith knew enough not to question him about it. Obviously, the meetings had not gone well. She cooked dinner for him in silence, and as soon as he finished his last mouthful, he got up, went upstairs, showered, and went to bed. He hadn't said a single word to her while they ate. And it was only the next morning at breakfast that he asked her how she was.

“Fine,” she said, pouring him a cup of coffee. She had made him oatmeal, berries, and muffins, and he seemed in a slightly better mood. “Tough trip?” He nodded, but did not volunteer any details. He was like that. When things didn't go the way he wanted, he never had much to say. And if they were going well, she could see it by his demeanor, but he kept the news to himself.

“I talked to Eloise in London,” Faith offered, as he read The Wall Street Journal. He didn't seem to hear what she said, and it was a full five minutes later when he spoke from behind the paper.

“How was she?”

“Fine.” Faith was used to his style, and knew what he was asking. “She's coming home for Thanksgiving, for the long weekend.”

“Good.” He put the paper down then, and stood up, as he glanced first at his watch, and then at his wife. “I don't have time to discuss it with you now, Faith. But I wanted to let you know that I've given a lot of thought to what we discussed.”

“About what?”

“Your pipe dream about law school. I want you to know now, clearly, that I will not agree. You'll have to find something else to do.” He didn't wait for her to comment but turned on his heel and walked out of the room. And the way he did it instantly infuriated her. In the past, she would have been crushed. But this time, for some reason, she was outraged, and she followed after him into the hall. He was putting on his raincoat, it was pouring outside.

“You can't just dismiss me like that, Alex. And it's not a pipe dream. It's a reasonable thing I want to do. I'm willing to put the work into it, and to make it work for us too.”

He looked at her with an icy stare that had quelled her for years. “I'm not. I'm not going to live with a full-time student, and all the stress and nonsense that entails. You're my wife, Faith. You have an obligation to hold up your end of the deal.”

“So do you,” she shot back. “This isn't fair. Why can't you respect me as a person, and realize that I need something in my life, something intelligent to do, now that the girls are gone?”

“See a psychiatrist if you're having trouble adjusting to the girls leaving home. Don't go off half-cocked trying to recapture your youth. The truth is you can't.”

“You act like I'm a hundred years old. I'm not.”

“I'm well aware of your age, Faith. You're not a kid, don't act like one. You're not a child. This whole project is childish and immature. Act like an adult. Your daughters are gone. You're married. You have responsibilities to me. You can't fulfill them if you're in school.” It was all about him. It always was.

“What are you worried about? That I can't handle an occasional dinner party because I'm in school? I'm not going to the moon for heaven's sake. I'll be here. I told you, I can make it work.” She sounded desperate and was near tears. He had never before been quite as unreasonable as this. But she had never challenged him to this extent.

“You have no idea what you're talking about, Faith. Law school is all-consuming. You won't have time for anything else. And I have a voice in that.”

“Don't I?” she asked, as tears burned her eyes.

“Not in this case. That's the end of it, as far as I'm concerned. Find something else to do.” And with that, before she could say another word, he opened the front door and stepped out into the rain, as Faith stood staring at him. The Iceman. Zoe was right.

Alex closed the door firmly behind him, and Faith went back to the cozy wood-paneled kitchen and sat down. Their breakfast dishes were still on the table, and all she could do was cry. Great, long, wracking sobs. She felt as though she had been put in jail. He acted as though he owned her, as though what she felt and wanted were of absolutely no consequence to him. She had never felt as powerless in her life. And she was still crying when she finally stood up and put the dishes in the dishwasher, and went upstairs to their room.

She stood for a long time, looking out the window at the rain. She was monumentally depressed. And when Brad e-mailed her that afternoon, she didn't answer. She felt as though she had failed him too. He expected so much of her, but he didn't know Alex. No one did. Not like this. Other people thought him reasonable and intelligent and thoughtful. No one but Faith and his children knew how ice cold he was, or could be. He had to have everything his way. Zoe had had countless arguments like this with him, and had eventually given up discussing anything with him. She had shut him out. Only Eloise seemed able to reason with him. He regarded their world as his freedom, and Faith felt like his slave. Brad was right.

Faith was depressed for the next two days, and they barely spoke to each other at breakfast and dinner. And finally, two days after Alex had issued his ultimatum, Brad sent her another e-mail.

“Hey, are you okay? You've gone very quiet. Something wrong? I'm worried about you. Let me know you're alive. Love, Brad.”

With a long sigh, she began typing on the keyboard, but there wasn't much to say.

“Lost the war. Alex told me that law school is out of the question. In his view, it conflicts with my responsibilities to him. He hasn't spoken to me all week. He laid down the law and that was it. And now I'm depressed. Besides, it has rained here all week. I'm miserable and feel like shit. Eating worms, I guess. Now what am I going to do for the rest of my life? Love, Fred.”

His answer came back almost instantly. He was at his desk when her e-mail came in. And as soon as he read it, he was profoundly upset. He thought about calling her, but decided to e-mail instead.

“This sounds bad. Hang in, Fred. You're depressed because you feel like you lost control of your life. For good reason. You have. I'm not telling you what to do, only you can decide. But if you let him do this to you, give you orders and ultimatums, you're going to be depressed. Very. Do you feel like you can do something to take some of the power back? Whatever feels comfortable to you. You decide what and how much. But you have to do something. You can't be treated like a child. Or worse, a thing. He has to respect your needs too. And if he can't, you have to. High price to pay if you don't. I know, I've been there. It feels very high risk to challenge that, particularly with people like him and Pam. But if you don't, you lose you. Bad place to be.

“Figure out what you need to do to feel a little more in control, or a lot more if you prefer, and then hold your nose and jump. It's worth it. I'll hold your hand as best I can. Now get out your umbrella and go for a walk. Sounds like you need some air. I'm here if you need me. And if you kill him, I'll defend you. Justifiable homicide for sure. Open and shut. Love, Brad.”

She smiled as she read it, and deleted it so no one would ever see what he wrote. The part about killing Alex might upset the girls, to say the least. And then she decided to take his advice. She put boots on, and a slicker, and left the house. He was right, she needed air, and it gave her time to think. She walked down Lexington Avenue and back up Fifth, along the park. She didn't realize it while she was walking, but she was gone for two hours, and it did her a world of good. He was absolutely right. She had to take back some kind of power. Alex was treating her as though he owned her, as though she were an object he had bought. And she was no longer willing to let him do that. It was a huge change for her. She had hoped he would be reasonable and agree, but since he hadn't, she knew now what she wanted to do. She was going to send in the forms for Continuing Ed and the LSAT prep. It was a start at least. She could decide later what she wanted to do about law school. But this way, she'd have a choice. The LSAT prep course was to begin the next week, and he didn't need to know. She still had three months to reason with Alex, take her LSAT, fill out her applications, and make up her own mind. Applying to law school would give her options, and just making the decision to go to Continuing Ed classes gave her a sense of control.

She mailed the forms that afternoon. As they dropped into the mailbox, she stood there in the pouring rain and smiled. There was a knot of angst in her stomach, but at the same time she had a lighter heart, and clearer head. She knew she had done the right thing. She ran back to the house and called Brad. He answered his inside line.

“I did it!” she said exuberantly, and he knew instantly who it was. She felt like a kid who had just won the spelling bee at school. First prize.

“What did you do?” he asked with a smile, as he leaned back in his chair, and tipped it on two legs.

“You were right. First, I went for a walk in the rain. A long walk. And then I came home, grabbed the forms, and sent them off. I just dropped them in the mailbox on the corner and I feel great. The LSAT prep class starts next week. I'm not going to say anything to Alex, I'll just go.” She felt dishonest but powerful and much more in control.

“At least I did something to take back the power. I feel human again.” She was amazed at how fast her actions had brought her relief from the crushing depression she'd been in.

“I'm glad, Fred. I was worried about you. You sounded pretty bad.” Worse than that in fact. “And I'm so proud of you!”

“I felt like shit, and have for days. How are you, by the way? I'm sorry all I did was talk about me. I've been a mess all week.”

“No wonder. His little speech was not exactly designed to make you feel great. I know, I went through it with Pam when I left her father's firm. Threats, ultimatums, guilt, accusations—I thought she'd leave me if I quit. But in the end, I knew I had to take the risk. If I didn't, I would have lost respect for myself, and my life would have gone right down the tubes.”

“You're braver than I am,” she said, impressed by what he'd done. Pam sounded like a piece of work, and was.

“You're doing okay. Give yourself an A plus for today. I'm really proud of you, Fred.”

“Thank you, I'm proud of me too. If you hadn't said what you did, I'd still be sitting here in tears.” He hated to think of her that way, and was glad if he had helped. “Thank you, Brad.” She hadn't done anything conclusive yet to defy Alex, but she was spreading her wings a little bit. Just enough to revive her self-respect.

“You're welcome,” he said gently. She made him feel useful and important. It was a good feeling, and made him feel closer to her.

“How's work?” She sounded cheerful and interested again, and felt alive.

“As crazy as ever. We go into trial for the kid accused of first degree next week. I have a lot to prepare.”

“Think you'll win?”

“I hope so. He's counting on it. Me too. It's going to be tough. He's a good kid, he deserves a break on this. It wasn't premeditated, but the minute you put guns in kids' hands, anyone's hands in fact, shit happens and someone gets hurt. That's just the way it works. Anyway, don't get me started on that. So what do you do now, Fred? I hope you're not planning to tell Alex you sent the forms in.”

“Not yet,” she said honestly. She hated lying to him about the LSAT prep course. She was just going to disappear every morning for three hours, and he'd never know. He rarely called in the daytime, except to talk to her about a change of plans. And she'd be home by lunchtime every day. “There's no point fighting with him yet. We'll just drive each other insane. Maybe the LSAT will be too hard for me anyway. I'll see how I feel after I take the class.”

“You'll do fine,” he said, and meant it. She was one of the brightest women he knew, and she'd always done well in school, and had gotten into law school before.

But they both knew she'd have to face the music with Alex eventually, and there was no doubt in Brad's mind she would be accepted at law school. And then she'd have to decide. She couldn't believe how much better she felt since she sent in the forms to her classes. It had totally turned her depression around. She no longer felt powerless and defenseless.

“You did the right thing, Fred,” he said gently. “I'd better get back to work,” he said regretfully. “I'd rather talk to you, but duty calls.”

“Thanks, Brad. I'll talk to you soon,” she promised. She puttered around the house for the rest of the afternoon and was in surprisingly good spirits when Alex came home from the office. She was singing in the kitchen while she cooked dinner.

Alex commented on it as soon as he walked into the kitchen.

“You're in a good mood. What did you do today?” he asked cautiously, as she smiled at him. He had expected more of the same tension they had had between them that morning. And instead, she seemed relaxed and sunny.

“Nothing much. I went for a long walk, and did a few errands,” she said vaguely. She hated lying to him, but felt she had no choice.

“It rained all day,” he said, looking suspicious, as though he didn't believe her.

“I know, I had a great walk in the rain,” she said, as she put their dinner on the table. She didn't tell him about the conversation with Brad. There was no reason to. He had become her secret friend, and champion of her causes, just as he had been when they were children. It was harmless. And Alex wouldn't have been interested anyway. He never had any interest in her friends, unless their husbands were important. Her women friends were of no interest to him. Nor would Brad be, since he was only a childhood friend of Jack's.

Alex made no further inquiries into the cause of her good humor. Instead, he ate quietly, and she asked him how Unipam was doing. He seemed pleased that she had asked him, and gave her a brief summary of their progress. It was one of those rare nights when they actually talked to each other. And by the end of the evening, she actually felt closer to him, and had forgiven him for his attitude about her going to law school. She still had hopes of convincing him in the next few months. They went to bed early that night, and predictably when he opened up to her a little, she found herself snuggling up to him. They made love and it was, as always, somewhat perfunctory and not particularly creative, but it was comfortable and satisfying and familiar. It would have proven to him, had he thought about it, what a difference it made when he was warmer to her. And with a little more effort, they might have actually enjoyed each other. But their relationship wasn't something he thought about a great deal, and never had. Their marriage was just something he took for granted, just as he did Faith.

Faith started the LSAT prep class on Monday, and it was exciting and unnerving at the same time. There was an incredible amount of material to absorb. She couldn't imagine how she would pull it off in eight weeks. And every day, after the class she was back home by one.

The ensuing weeks before Thanksgiving passed without incident between her and Alex. She was being particularly careful not to irritate him, and he was pleased, and convinced she had seen the light. She had, but not the one he thought. And he was busy too. Alex flew to Boston and Atlanta, and made another quick trip to Chicago. Faith was occupied with her class. The two others she'd signed up for didn't start till January. And she was organizing Thanksgiving, and excited about seeing Eloise and Zoe. She talked to Brad once or twice, and he sent her infrequent e-mails. He was up to his ears in his trial, and she scarcely heard from him, until it was over, two days before Thanksgiving. And much to her delight, and his relief, his client was acquitted of first-degree murder. He was charged with manslaughter, and given three years' probation, and credit for time served in county jail for seven months before his trial. It was a major victory for Brad.

“That was a close one,” he admitted to her in his first call after the verdict. “The jury was out for six days. The poor kid's mother was practically hysterical, and he was scared to death. So was I actually. It was hard to tell which way they'd go. There were a lot of very good arguments for both sides. All's well that ends well. They're going to have a very nice Thanksgiving,” he said, sounding relieved. “What about you?”

“The girls are coming home tomorrow. I can't wait to see them. We're just having dinner here, the four of us.” They had no extended family. Alex's parents had died years before, and now her family was gone too.

“What are you doing, Brad?” she asked, happy to hear him. She hadn't heard from him in several days.

And talking to him had become a habit in the last month, one she cherished. It was hard to believe he had disappeared from her life for so many years. It was like finding a long-lost brother, and she loved talking to him. He gave her sound advice, and an enormous sense of well-being. He was high on her list of things to be grateful for that Thanksgiving, along with her kids.

“Pam is giving an enormous dinner,” Brad said, sounding tired, in answer to her question. It had been a grueling two weeks for him, during the trial, and waiting for the verdict, not to mention the hours of preparation that had gone into it before that. “I think she's got thirty or forty people coming. I lost track a while back. She invited a number of people from her office. Her father will be here of course, her stepmother, their children, some old friends. And a couple of people I've never met before, probably from her boards and committees. Pam loves having a lot of people around.”

“What about you?” Faith asked softly. She had the kind of voice that always soothed him. She was one of those people who always brought peace and offered comfort. There was a motherly quality about her that had always touched him, and at the same time a naive feminine side that made her seem younger than she was.

“Honestly? I'd rather spend it quietly with a few people I really love. But Pam would feel cheated if she couldn't turn it into a big event. That's just the way she is. I've got work to do in the office in the morning anyway. I have a lot to catch up on after being buried in the trial.”

“On Thanksgiving? Can't you take the weekend off? You sound exhausted.”

He smiled. “I am, Fred. Bone tired. But there are other kids counting on me. I can't let their cases slide for the holiday. I can use the time to get caught up.”

“What about the boys? Are they coming home?”

“It's too far to come. Jason and Dylan are staying in Zambia. I can't blame them. I'm going to try and get over there to see them after the first of the year, if I can. It must be terrific. They just love it. Have you ever been?”

“No. Alex has. He went on a safari with a bunch of friends a few years back, and I wanted to go with him. But none of the other wives went. I took a trip to Bermuda with the girls instead.”

“That's a little more civilized,” Brad smiled. “What time will you be celebrating Thanksgiving?” he asked, yawning. She wasn't boring him, he was just blind tired after the trial. The letdown was always enormous. All he wanted to do was go home, take a shower, and crawl into bed. But he had wanted to call her first, and celebrate the victory with her. Oddly enough, these days he found himself worried about her, if they didn't talk or e-mail every couple of days.

“We usually have dinner in the middle of the afternoon, around three o'clock. It's kind of a weird hour, but the girls like it. And at five or six o'clock, we can go to a movie, or they can go out with their friends. What about you?”

“Dinner is at seven. We'll eat around eight. I'll call you before I leave the office. You'll probably be through by then, before I go home, rev up the engines, and meet Pam's friends.” He made it sound like he was a stranger in his own house, and these days, sometimes he was. “How's school going, by the way?” She had e-mailed him about it several times and it sounded as though she was being challenged and having a good time.

“Great. But scary as hell. I haven't concentrated this hard in years.” And whenever Alex wasn't around, she was studying at home.

“I'm proud of you, Fred,” he repeated as he often did, and he was.

They hung up a few minutes later. Faith tidied up the girls' rooms that night, and put vases of fresh flowers in them. She wanted everything perfect for their homecoming, and she felt happy and relaxed when she went back to her own room. She started to say something to Alex, and then realized he'd fallen asleep with a book in his hands. She laid it gently on the night table next to the bed, turned off his light. He looked peaceful and handsome as he lay there, and she couldn't help wondering why he was so rigid sometimes, and so hard on her and the girls. And then suddenly she thought of Charles Armstrong. In some ways, Alex's views weren't so different from his. He had enormous expectations of his children, he wanted them to work hard, get good grades, and be successful. It was what Charles had demanded of Jack when he was young, although he expected far less of her, because she was “only” a girl. Alex had the same old-fashioned ideas, although he had modified them somewhat because he had daughters instead of sons, and he expected as much of them as he would have of sons. But he treated Faith in very much the same way that Charles had treated her mother, as though she didn't exist some of the time, and wouldn't understand what he did with his days, as though she were somehow less competent than he was. It was a subtle form of devaluation that irked her when she was a child. It had bothered her that her mother had let Charles treat her that way. And now Faith realized that she had done the same thing. She let Alex put her down, and criticize her, belittle her, and ignore her. Letting him forbid her to go to law school was something her mother would have done. And as she got into bed next to him, as he snored softly, she vowed not to let him do the same thing to her. The tides had slowly started to turn.

She couldn't help wondering if she had married Alex because he was like Charles. His silence and distance were familiar to her, although they hadn't been as noticeable in the beginning. But something about him must have struck a chord with her. What frightened her now was that she had become her mother, which was precisely who she didn't want to be. The main difference was that her mother had whined and complained and grown bitter, and eventually long-suffering. It was the last thing Faith wanted to happen to her. Her mother had seemed helpless in the face of Charles's domineering ways, which was an example Faith didn't want to set for her daughters. She wanted to model dignity and integrity and strength for them. But it had been a battle for her. One that Alex didn't want her to win. It had been a silent war between them for many years. The Iceman, as Zoe called him. The sad thing was that he wasn't entirely, there was a warm core in there somewhere, that Faith had known and loved in the beginning of their marriage. But the warm core had gotten covered with layers of ice over the years. It was hard to get to it anymore, and she only caught a glimpse of it occasionally.

As she drifted off to sleep that night, she hoped it would be a nice Thanksgiving. There was no reason for it not to be, especially with the girls there. She felt useful suddenly, being with them again. They needed her, or at least they used to, and they would now, if only for a few days. Just knowing they would be home made her feel happy, safe, and loved. It saddened her to realize that Alex no longer made her feel that way. The only joy she had left was her girls.

5

IT STARTLED FAITH TO SEE THAT BOTH ELOISE AND ZOE had grown into independent young women in the brief months since they had been away. Eloise had left for London in September, and Zoe for Brown in August, and both had changed dramatically in a remarkably brief time. Eloise suddenly looked stylish and sophisticated. She'd lost some weight and bought a new wardrobe in little shops in London, and she was crazy about her job. She had met lots of new people, and had a new boyfriend, a young Englishman who also worked at Christie's. And although she was happy to see how she was thriving, Faith felt a pang as she realized how empty her nest really was. And that it was going to stay that way. Eloise was talking about staying in London for two or three years, if not longer, and maybe taking a job in Paris or Florence after that. She loved what she was learning and the people she worked with. All was well in her world.

And Zoe absolutely loved Brown. It was everything she had hoped it would be. She had designed a curriculum for herself in fine arts, with a minor in economics. She wanted to run an art gallery eventually, or start a service to buy art for important collectors. She already had her goals in her sights, even at eighteen.

Faith was reveling in the excitement of having them both home. The house seemed full of noise and laughter again, doors were banging, the girls were running up and down the stairs, and she heard them in the kitchen late that night. Alex was already asleep by then. He and Eloise had had a long quiet talk in his den, while Faith and Zoe had chatted in her room. Faith tiptoed quietly down the stairs to join the girls.

“Hi, Mom.” Zoe looked up at her with a grin. She was sitting on the counter eating ice cream out of the container with a spoon, while Eloise was sprawled in a chair, sipping a cup of tea.

“It sure is good to see you guys here,” Faith smiled at them. “This house is like a tomb without you.” Zoe offered her a spoonful of ice cream, and she took it and then kissed Zoe's long blond hair, which hung to her waist. Eloise had just cut hers short, and it looked well on her.

“What are you both doing this weekend?” she asked as she sat at the table with Eloise, and smiled at her. She was a beautiful girl, taller than her younger sister, though not by much. They both had Alex's height and his long, lanky looks, their mother's perfect figure, and faces like cameos. They had both been asked to model at various times, but neither had ever been interested in it, much to Faith's relief. She thought that a frightening world, full of people who would have exploited them, and dangers in the form of men and drugs. She was well aware that she had been lucky with both girls.

“I'm seeing all my friends,” Zoe said delightedly, “everyone's home from school.”

“Me too,” her older sister said. “There's a bunch of people I want to see.” Although some of her friends had taken jobs in other cities, or had gone to graduate school, many of them were still in New York. She had worked for Christie's for two years in New York before they'd transferred her. It seemed the perfect job for her.

“I wish you could both stay longer,” Faith said wistfully. “It's so nice to have you home. I don't know what to do with myself without you.”

“You should get a job, Mom,” Ellie said practically, and Faith didn't volunteer that she was back in school, and preparing to take the LSAT in a few weeks. By then, Zoe had gotten on the phone with one of her friends, and didn't hear what either of them said.

“I might one of these days,” her mother said offhandedly. “Daddy thinks I should do charity work or learn to play bridge.”

“That would be nice,” Eloise said, sipping her tea, not wanting to contradict what her father said. She usually agreed with him, on principle. She always had. She thought the sun rose and set on him. And in contrast, Zoe criticized nearly everything he said and did. She felt he had never been there for her, whereas Ellie thought him the perfect father. She was far more critical of Faith, and had battled ferociously with her during her teen years, unlike Zoe, who had been easy for Faith, and still was. Although they looked very similar, the girls had totally different personalities and points of view about everything.

The three of them sat in the kitchen for an hour, chatting about nothing in particular, and then finally Faith put the dishes in the sink, turned off the lights, and they went upstairs to their respective rooms. Faith got into bed next to Alex and she slept like a child that night, knowing that her girls were home. And she got up at the crack of dawn the next day, to make the dressing and put the turkey in the oven and get everything ready before the others came downstairs.

They had a late breakfast, and sat reading the paper in their pajamas, as Faith checked on the turkey, and set the table in the dining room. Zoe offered to help, and Ellie sat talking to her father. There was an easy, convivial atmosphere that they all enjoyed. And even Alex looked pleased to spend time with them. It was noon before they all went back upstairs to dress. They usually congregated in the living room at two o'clock on Thanksgiving Day, and ate at three.

And when the girls came back downstairs, dressed and made up, and looking very pretty, they sat next to their father and watched the football game with him. Ellie was a huge football fan, and told him she'd been to some rugby games with friends, but it just wasn't the same thing. Zoe went to help Faith in the kitchen then, and by three o'clock, the candles were lit, the table looked beautiful, and they were ready to sit down for the meal. They ate neither lunch nor dinner on that day usually. Instead, they picked at leftovers late at night, which was almost a tradition with them, after eating the enormous meal Faith prepared. It was a traditional Thanksgiving feast and looked like something in a magazine. The turkey was a golden honey brown, and there were sweet potatoes with marshmallows, spinach, peas, mashed potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce, chestnut puree, and pumpkin and apple pies for dessert. It was everyone's favorite meal of the year.

Faith said grace, as she always did, Alex carved the turkey, and everyone chatted animatedly. It saddened Faith a little thinking of years gone by when Jack and Debbie had been with them, and Charles and her mother. It was odd to think that they were all gone, and only the immediate family was left, but she tried not to think of it as she and Alex chatted with the girls. They talked about everything from business to politics to school. And they were already eating dessert when Alex looked at Faith and commented to his daughters with a derisive look that their mother had been thinking of going back to school. He said it as though it were something very foolish she'd been considering, and more than anything, he looked amused.

“She came to her senses fortunately. She had some crazy idea about going to law school, until I pointed out she's a little old for that. We'd have been eating peanut butter sandwiches for Thanksgiving next year, while she studied for exams,” he said, and Ellie laughed, while Faith looked hurt, and Zoe glared at him. It was the kind of thing he did, and she hated. She detested it when he put her mother down, which he did frequently.

“I don't think it's a crazy idea, Dad,” Zoe said bluntly, staring right across the table at him with a determined look. She wanted to put her arms around her mother and protect her from him. It made her furious to hear him diminish her. He had often done it to Zoe too. “I think it's a great idea.” She turned to her mother then, who was looking upset. “I hope you're still planning to follow through on it, Mom.” They had talked about it several times, and she wanted her father to know that she approved of the plan, and he looked annoyed as soon as Zoe spoke up, which meant nothing to her. She wasn't afraid of him. She had her own ideas.

“We'll see, sweetheart. Daddy thinks I wouldn't be able to do what I need to for him, although I think I could. We'll talk about it again sometime,” she said, trying to move the conversation along, as Alex looked pointedly across the table at her.

“There's nothing to talk about, Faith. We resolved that some time ago. I thought we agreed.” She didn't know what to say to him. She didn't want to lie to him, nor start a war with him on Thanksgiving, when the girls were home. And she wasn't ready to tell him she was already taking a class at NYU's School of Continuing Education, studying to take the LSAT in December. It was the wrong place and time to discuss it with him, but he seemed to want to make an issue of it in front of the girls, to drive the point home that he had the final say in it. But Zoe quickly took the bait, even before Faith could respond to him.

“I think Mom should go to law school. All she does is sit here and wait for you to come home, Dad. That's not a life for her. And you travel a lot anyway. Why shouldn't she be a lawyer if that's what she wants to do?” Faith was touched that she'd stuck up for her, but she wanted to get them off the topic as soon as possible before it turned into an argument, which it inevitably would.

“She's too old to be a lawyer,” Alex said stubbornly. “And she has a job. A full-time job. She's my wife. That should be enough for her. And I think she knows it is.” Alex looked sternly from Zoe to Faith, and Ellie stared at the remains of her dessert, not wanting to enter the discussion if possible. She thought her mother should get a part-time job or do volunteer work. Law school sounded a little too demanding to her too.

“Alex, why don't we discuss this when the girls aren't here,” Faith said, looking pained. She didn't want an argument to spoil the little time they had together, particularly on Thanksgiving. But he looked pointedly at her, and his voice rose a decibel.

“That subject is closed, Faith. I was just telling the girls what you'd been considering. But it's ridiculous, you know that. It's not an option, I just thought they'd be amused to know you'd thought of it.” The way he said it humiliated her, and she rose to the bait in spite of herself, and snapped at him.

“It's not ‘ridiculous,’ Alex. I'm serious about it. And I think it's a damn good idea,” she said, and he looked stunned, as Ellie began to look seriously uncomfortable. She hated it when her parents disagreed. And Zoe looked furious on her mother's behalf. She looked like a volcano about to erupt when her older sister intervened.

“I think it would be a lot for you to take on, Mom. My friends who are in law school all hate it, they're drowning in work, and can hardly keep up. Dad's right. You'd have a tough time being here for him.” It seemed a reasonable argument against it to her, but it brought Zoe out with eyes that flashed at her.

“Then maybe that's a sacrifice Dad would have to make, for her sake for once. There's a novel idea.” She glanced from Ellie to him, and Faith felt panicked at the turn the meal was taking. She looked at Zoe appreciatively, but tried to turn the tides before they all drowned in them.

“I think Daddy and I have to settle this on our own. But thank you, sweetheart. We don't have to decide this right now,” she said, the eternal peacemaker, although her heart was pounding at what he'd said to her.

“We already did, Faith. The subject is closed.”

“Then you shouldn't have brought it up,” Faith said sensibly. “I wouldn't have. And no, actually, it's not closed. I sent the forms in for two classes at NYU's School of Continuing Education. I start in January.” She didn't tell him she was taking the LSAT so she could apply to law school if she wanted to, and to see how she would do. But she could have kicked herself for saying even as much as she had. She didn't want to start a war with him and ruin Thanksgiving for the girls, but he had been so condescending and humiliating that she couldn't resist letting him know that he didn't have total control. But she instantly regretted it, as he slammed a fist down on the table, which made all the silver and crystal jump, and both girls. They were stunned by his vehemence, as was Faith. And whether she wanted it or not the war had started again. This was a power war with him, and he did not intend to lose.

“Withdraw them, Faith. Call the school. There's no point doing that. You are not going to law school, and that's final. I won't tolerate it!” She only wanted to take the classes to prepare herself for law school in the fall and get back into the rhythm of school. Besides, it was a more intelligent pursuit than lunches or shopping with her friends.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Zoe shouted at him, as her father stood up, looking enraged.

“How dare you speak to me that way!” he shouted back at her, as tears filled Faith's eyes. She didn't want this to happen. She wanted everything to be perfect for them while they were there. And she felt as though this was all her fault, since they were arguing over her.

“Zoe, please!” Faith said gently, trying to calm her, but Alex was furious over what she'd said to him. It was the culmination of a lot of old battles between them. Zoe was always critical of him, and had been since she was a little girl. But this was the most outspoken she had ever been to him. She couldn't stand the way he spoke to and about their mother. And Faith had a hard time defending herself. Years of being criticized and dominated as a child had taken a toll.

“No, Mom,” Zoe said, turning to her, her own eyes brimming with tears, “I don't know how you can let him talk to you that way. It makes me sick. And if you won't tell him to stop, I will.” And then she turned to Alex, trembling with rage. “You're so goddamn disrespectful of her, you always are. How can you treat her that way? Can't you treat her like a human being, after everything she does for you, for all of us? When does she get her turn, to be treated with respect? And if she wants to go to law school, why the hell not? Frankly, I'd rather eat hot dogs next year, and know that she was happy.”

Ellie piped up then, looking superior and irritated, as Faith wished she had a magic wand to make them all behave. “You always spoil everything,” she said to her younger sister. “You're always picking on Dad.”

“For chrissake, look at the way he treats our mother! Is that all right with you? Do you think that's what she deserves? Dad's not a saint, you know, El. He's just a man, and he treats Mom like shit.”

“Stop it!” Faith shouted at them. They were all behaving abominably, and worse yet, they were doing it on her behalf. The meal was over by then, but it was ending on an ugly note that none of them would ever forget, and all because Alex had mentioned that Faith wanted to go to law school. She was furious with herself too for snapping at him and setting a tone that had been picked up by the girls. She felt she should have known better, and was devastated to have been the cause of a situation that had upset everyone. And without saying another word, Alex stormed out of the room, marched into his study, and slammed the door.

“Now look what you've done!” Ellie shouted at her mother and sister. “You've ruined everything for Dad.”

“Bullshit!” Zoe shouted back at her. “You're always protecting him, but he started this. He put Mom down in front of all of us. How much fun is that for her?”

“You shouldn't have told him you sent the forms in for school,” Eloise reproached her mother. “You knew it would upset him. Why did you tell him that?” She was in tears too.

“Because I was upset,” Faith said apologetically, wanting them both to calm down. She hated it when they fought, particularly over her—and she always felt guilty when they did. “I was going to tell him eventually anyway, if I decided to go. I haven't made my mind up yet.” She was torn between wanting to take a stand, and not wanting to upset them. She could still decide not to take the classes, or even the LSAT in a few weeks.

“You'd better go, Mom,” Zoe railed at her. “I'll never forgive you, or Dad, if you don't. It's what you want to do, and you have as much right as we do, or Dad does, to do what you want.”

“Not if it upsets your father that much, and creates this much havoc between the two of you.” Faith looked heartbroken. Why did something so reasonable for her have to come at such a high price for everyone else?

“He'll get over it,” Zoe said, glaring angrily at Eloise. She hated it when her sister stood up for their father, when he was wrong. Ellie always defended him, no matter what, which seemed unreasonable to her. “Mom has to have a life too,” she said, as Ellie disappeared from the dining room. She was going to console her dad.

Faith was clearing the table then, with tears running down her cheeks. “I hate it when you girls fight,” she said miserably, as Zoe put an arm around her and held her tight as Faith juggled the plates distractedly.

“I hate it when he treats you like shit, Mom. And he always does. He does it just to torture you in front of us.”

“He doesn't torture me,” Faith said as she put the plates down and gave Zoe a hug. “But thank you for defending me. It's not a good idea if it gets everyone upset. That's just the way he is,” Faith said, forgiving him more easily than Zoe ever would. She had years of scores to settle with him, which would take her a lifetime to resolve. Faith hated that too, but she could never convince Zoe otherwise. Alex had been too hard on her for too long.

“He's arrogant and inconsiderate, and supercilious and disrespectful and cold,” Zoe said, reeling off what she felt were his main faults, as Ellie walked back into the room. Her father had told her he wanted to be alone.

“And you're a bitch!” Eloise said from across the room.

“Girls! Stop it!” Faith shouted at them, and then gathered up the plates and left the dining room. It was a nightmarish end to what was supposed to be a wonderful afternoon. Zoe followed her into the kitchen then, and Ellie went upstairs to call her friends. Faith was crushed over what a disaster the afternoon had been.

“Mom, I hate to desert you and go out,” Zoe said apologetically. “I was supposed to meet some kids at six o'clock.” It was nearly that by then.

“It's all right, sweetheart. I don't suppose we're going to get all this sorted out tonight. I hope everyone will calm down by tomorrow.”

“He'll be the same then, Mom. That's who he is.”

“He's still your father, and I don't care how much you disagree with him, you have to show him respect.”

“He has to earn it first,” Zoe said, unwilling to relent. She had strong principles, and integrity, and the only respect she felt was for Faith. Her father had lost hers years before.

She kissed her mother, and ten minutes later, she left. And a few minutes after that, Eloise came downstairs carrying her coat and purse. She had made a date with friends, and she was anxious to get out. The atmosphere in the house was leaden after the explosion at the end of the meal.

“I'm sorry things got so difficult,” Faith said sadly to her. She had wanted it all to be so perfect for them. She hadn't counted on the argument that she had caused.

“That's okay, Mom,” Ellie said unconvincingly She still looked upset. They all did.

“I shouldn't have reacted to what your father said,” Faith said apologetically. She didn't say, as Zoe would have, that he shouldn't have goaded her by saying it. It had been a gesture of disrespect, whether Eloise admitted it or not. “It'll be all right.”

“Yeah, I know…. I hope you don't go to school, Mom. It will upset Dad so much.” And what about me, Faith wanted to scream. What kind of life will I have if I don't? No life at all.

“We'll work it out. Don't worry about it. Just go out tonight and have some fun. What time do you think you'll be home?”

“I don't know, Mom.” She smiled. She was twenty-four years old, and she'd been living on her own in an apartment in London. She wasn't used to having her mother checking on her anymore. “Late. Don't wait up.”

“I just wanted to know what time I should start worrying.” She smiled. “Sometimes I forget how old you

“Just go to bed. I'll be fine.” Zoe had said she'd be back by ten. And she worried about both girls when they were out. They were beautiful, and more vulnerable than they thought.

Eloise left a few minutes later, and Faith spent the next hour clearing the table and cleaning up the kitchen. The leftovers were put away, the counters were clean, the dining room table looked pristine again, and the dishwasher was going full force.

It was after seven when she turned off the lights and knocked on Alex's study door. There was no answer for a long time, but she knew that he was there. In the end, she cracked the door open and peeked in. He was sitting in a chair, reading a book, and glanced up at her with a frown.

“May I come in?” She was respectful of him, and his space, and spoke to him from across the room.

“Why? There's nothing to say.”

“I think there is. I'm sorry things got out of hand. I got upset by what you said.”

“You already agreed to give up the idea of law school, Faith. You went back on your word. And there's no point in your taking classes this spring. I assume they're law classes you signed up for?” She nodded and he looked sullen, angry, and cold. And she felt the same icy wind of disapproval she'd had from the men in her life since she was a child. But this time, she was determined to handle it differently.

“We didn't agree. You ordered me to do what you told me to.” She sat down in a chair across from his. It was a small, cozy wood-paneled room, with a leather couch, and two large leather chairs, and a fireplace Alex often lit on winter nights, but not tonight. He hadn't been in the mood. “Alex, this is important to me. I need a new purpose in my life, a reason to live, something to focus on, now that the girls are gone.” She wanted to make him understand how much this meant to her, and hoped that then he would agree.

“You have a purpose. You're married to me. You're my wife.” It was the only role he could see her in, and he had no intention of changing that now. It suited him, whether or not it was enough for her.

“I need more than that. You're a busy man. You have a life. I don't.”

“That's a sad statement about our marriage,” he said, looking glum. Her appeals were falling on deaf ears.

“Maybe it is,” she said quietly. “Maybe it's a sadder statement about me. I need a purpose in life, a bigger one than I've got. Let's face it, I've been a full-time mother for twenty-four years, and I'm out of a job. That's tough.”

“That's life. All women face that when their kids go away to college.”

“A lot of them have jobs and careers. I want to be one of them. And all I can tell you is that I'll do my best not to let it interfere with you.” She was pleading with him, but he showed no sign that he'd relent.

“Things are going to come to a bad pass with us, Faith, if you don't back off.”

“Don't threaten me, Alex. That's not fair. I wouldn't do this to you. If this was important to you, I'd try and support you as best I could.”

“It's important to me that you not go to school.” They were each deadlocked where they were, and Faith had no idea how to resolve it with him, or get what she wanted. She hated to give up. There seemed to be so much at stake suddenly, not just whether or not she went to school. This was about respect and self-esteem, and a new life she wanted desperately, but their old life was far more comfortable for him.

“Can we shelve this for now?” She didn't know what else to do. All she could hope was that time would soften him, when he got used to the idea.

“I'm not going to discuss it with you again,” he said, and then startled her by what he said next. “Do what you want, Faith. I suppose you will anyway. But don't expect my support. I'm a hundred percent opposed to your going back to school. I just want you to be clear on that. Do it at your own risk.”

“What does that mean?” His veiled threat frightened her, just as it was intended to.

“What I said.” She wondered if he would punish her in some way if she went back to school. But in her heart of hearts, she knew it was worth the risk. It was something she knew she had to do. No matter what. For once in her life, she was going to do something just for her.

“Do you want to come upstairs?” she asked him gently, grateful that he had backed off, even a little bit, although there had been an implied threat. Maybe this was the best he could do, and she was grateful that it wasn't worse. It could have been.

“No, I don't,” he said, lowering his eyes to his book again and shutting her out, as he always did.

She got up quietly and left. She touched his shoulder as she went, and he did not respond. He felt like a statue when she touched him, and he said not a word. She went upstairs to take a bath, and then sat in her own small study, while she waited for Zoe to come home. She checked her e-mail, but there was no word from Brad.

Thanksgiving had been difficult certainly, and she'd won a victory. But at a high price. But at least, she consoled herself in the silence of the house, she'd won this round when he told her to do what she wanted. For once in her life, she intended to, and strengthened her resolve to proceed. It was going to be a brave new world for Faith. In truth, it already was.

6

BRAD STAYED IN THE OFFICE UNTIL FIVE O'CLOCK ON Thanksgiving Day. The boys were in Africa, and Pam told him she was playing golf with friends. Their friends were coming at six o'clock, and they weren't going to eat dinner till seven or eight. She had invited forty people, at least half of whom he didn't know. And he didn't even bother to object. There was no point. Pam did what she wanted to. The only difference his objections made was that she prepared better arguments to convince him. But in the end, perhaps because of lack of energy on his part, Pam prevailed. He preferred to save his energy for bigger things, like his work.

He got a lot of paperwork done, and caught up on a number of things. And in a sentimental moment, he wrote a long letter to his sons, telling them how proud of them he was, and that he was grateful for them. They were both terrific boys. He admired their spunk in going to Africa for a year. They were working on a game preserve, tending to injured animals, and assisting animals that were somehow in trouble in the wild. And in their spare time they had volunteered at a church in the village. Dylan was teaching kids and their parents how to read, and Jason was digging trenches for a new sewer system. Their letters so far had been full of enthusiasm and excitement for everything they'd done and seen. It was an unforgettable experience for them. They were going to be there until July, and he had promised himself and Pam that he was going to take some time off from work, and visit them for a couple of weeks. But so far, he hadn't had the time. And neither had Pam. She was far less enthusiastic than Brad about going to Africa. She was terrified of diseases, accidents on a trip like that, and bugs. Her idea of adventure travel was flying to L.A. and staying with friends in Bel-Air.

She and Brad had done some traveling over the years, but never to exotic places, usually to Europe, or somewhere in the States. They stayed in luxurious hotels, and ate at three- and four-star restaurants. Pam loved going to spas, when she had the time, and playing golf with business associates, or clients she was trying to woo to the firm. Almost everything Pam did was geared toward advancing herself somehow, either socially or professionally. She rarely did anything just for the fun of it. She always had a plan. And was totally unlike Brad. He had no social ambitions, no desire to run the world, no need for enormous amounts of money, and the only real passion he had was for his work. The rest went over his head. Pam teased him about it sometimes, and had tried to show him the ropes to greed and success. They were lessons that, much to her chagrin, he had refused to learn. And since he'd gone out on his own, and left the firm, she'd given up. Most of the time, nearly always in fact, they each did their own thing, which was a relief for Brad. The work she put into her social and business life exhausted him. He didn't give a damn about showing off, being in the papers, or impressing people in her world.

Brad sealed his letter to his sons, and told them he sent them his love. They had only called a few times in the past four months. There were no phones on the game preserve, only radios that connected to nearby farms, and the local town. In order to call home, they had to go into town, and wait for hours at the post office for a phone and an outside line. It sounded like being on another planet to him. But at least they wrote occasionally, and so did he. Pam kept sending them care packages with vitamins and insect repellent, purchased by her secretary, and so far, all but two of the packages had been stolen or lost. Somewhere in Zambia there were postal workers or customs officers who were taking her vitamins, and no longer plagued by bugs. But he figured the boys were fine.

He thought of calling Faith before he left the office, but when he glanced at his watch, he realized that they were probably about to sit down and eat. It was a real bonus for him to have found her again. She was a piece of his childhood, his history, a memory of a happy time for him. Things had gotten complicated for him after college. His parents had gotten divorced, and he had always felt that the acrimoniousness of the divorce had killed them both. His mother had died of breast cancer at forty-three, after being obsessed with the things Brad's father had done to her, and his father had had a heart attack two years afterward. They had become and remained bitter, angry people whose only interest had been doing each other harm. His father had refused to attend his ex-wife's funeral, as a final slight to her, and in the end the only one it had hurt was Brad. He had vowed to himself that he would never marry. And when he met Pam, and dated her, she had had a hard time convincing him to get married. And when she finally did, after issuing a tough ultimatum to him, he was equally determined never to get divorced. He didn't want his sons to feel the same anguish he had, watching his parents' pitched battle to destroy each other. When he said “for better or worse” when he married Pam, he had meant every word of it. He knew then that no matter what happened later on, he was married to her for life.

It made him philosophical when their paths slowly began to go separate ways, and she disappointed him again and again. He knew he was a disappointment to her as well. He wasn't ambitious enough in her eyes, or interested in the same things. By the time the boys finished college, or even when they started it, Pam and Brad had no shared interests at all, and few friends they both liked. Brad's values were entirely different from hers, and the only joy they still shared was their sons.

Brad turned off the lights in the office, and got into the Jeep he used for work. He had a Mercedes parked in the garage at home, but he seldom used it anymore. It was the wrong signal to send out for a court-appointed attorney, or one doing mostly pro bono work, defending indigent kids accused of violent crimes. The Mercedes embarrassed him, and he'd been thinking of selling it, although Pam had just bought herself a Rolls. The difference in their cars seemed symbolic, to him at least, of their differences in all else.

He didn't delude himself that he was happy with her. He hadn't had any illusions about his marriage in a long time, but he was entirely clear that he wasn't going to do anything about it, and never would. And that was comfortable for Pam too. He suspected she had brief affairs from time to time, and he had gotten involved with a married secretary for two years. But eventually she'd gotten divorced and wanted a deeper involvement with him. He had never misled her about his plans, and they parted ways and she quit on good terms. And she had since married someone else. Brad hadn't been involved with anyone since, and that had been three years before. He would have been lonely, if he'd thought about it, but he didn't allow himself to. He simply accepted what was, and stayed submerged in work.

But talking to Faith had added another dimension to his life in the past two months. He had no romantic notions about her, on the contrary, she was sacred to him, and he cherished the friendship they had. She seemed to understand him perfectly, shared many of the same points of view, and her own loneliness allowed her to reach out to him in ways that others wouldn't have dared. And in his head, she was still like a little sister to him, and that made him interact with her in a totally chaste way. He loved what he felt for her, and what they said to each other. He loved helping her, and being there for her. He was determined to do everything he could to encourage her to go back to school, and he hoped she would. He felt as though he was of some use to her, and that made him feel good. She was, in every sense of the word, his friend.

Brad drove into the driveway just after six o'clock. He had intended to get home by five and get changed, but it had taken him longer than he thought to wrap up. He knew it wouldn't take him more than a few minutes to shower and change, and he was startled to find, when he let himself into the house, that they already had guests. They were standing in the front hall in black tie, and looked surprised when he walked in, in jeans and a sweatshirt.

Pam introduced him to a dozen people he had never met, and he disappeared to their room. They still shared a room, and a bed, although they hadn't made love in five years. It didn't bother him anymore, he had sublimated all his sexual urges into other things. And the only thing that had just startled him about the people he'd met was that they were in black tie. He had completely forgotten that Pam had made Thanksgiving a formal event this year, which seemed ridiculous to him. Thanksgiving, to Brad, was about families and people you cared deeply about, sitting around a table, or near a blazing fire. It only meant something if you shared it with people you loved, or good friends, not strangers in tuxedos and evening gowns, standing around, drinking champagne. But he had promised Pam he'd play the game, and he felt he owed it to her to try. He avoided most of her social events, either intentionally, or because he couldn't get away from work. So there were certain events he appeared at religiously, Thanksgiving, her Christmas party, the opening of the opera and the ballet every year, and the symphony if she couldn't find anyone else to go with her. He always encouraged her to try. He was in the living room half an hour later, in his tuxedo, looking handsome and well groomed, and to anyone who knew him well, bored to death. He was talking to her father about two new clients they'd acquired. They were major corporate entities, and had been a real coup for Pam, as her father said. He was inordinately proud of her. She had learned everything from him, her business acumen, her legal skills, her values, her ambitions, and her ability to get what she wanted in almost any circumstance, whether right or wrong. Pam was not a woman one could easily say no to, or who accepted being turned down. She was easily the most determined woman Brad had ever met. He had learned not to lock horns with her, whenever possible, and when necessary to avoid being stampeded by her, he just stepped aside. It worked better for him that way, and had allowed their marriage to survive. His love for her had been a casualty to the way she treated him, but even after his feelings for her had died, he made every effort to keep the outer shell of their marriage intact. The inside, the soul of it, had long since died.

“Do you want me to introduce you to the people you don't know?” Pam asked generously as she came to stand next to Brad, and slipped a hand into her father's arm, and he turned to her and smiled.

“I'm fine. Your father and I were singing your praises. You've pulled off some major coups recently, from what he's telling me. You're doing a hell of a job.” She looked pleased with his praise. Brad tried to give her credit whenever he thought it was deserved, although he didn't have a great deal of respect for the arena she competed in. She rarely returned the favor to him, and most of the time dismissed what he did, however important it seemed to him, or the rest of the world. She was also disturbed by Brad's influence over their sons. She thought their altruistic leanings were of no consequence, and she had been trying for several years to convince them to go to law school, and join their grandfather's firm. It would have been a huge victory for her. But so far, neither of the boys had been swayed, much to Brad's relief.

She was a pretty woman, though not in an overtly feminine way. She was tall, athletic, with a strong, sinewy figure. She played a lot of tennis and golf, and was in great shape. And she had brown eyes, and hair as dark as Brad's. She looked more like his sister than his wife. And people had often said she looked like him.

Pam drifted away then from where Brad and her father were standing. And Brad made a minor effort before they sat down. He introduced himself to several people, and had two glasses of wine to make the evening more bearable for him. He spoke to a woman who played tennis with Pam. She ran an ad agency Brad had heard of, but as he listened to her, his mind began to wander, and he finally left her to join a small circle of lawyers standing near the bar. Brad knew almost all of them, and had worked with two of them at the firm. They were nice guys and the conversation was easy and familiar, unlike the two women he sat next to, when they were finally seated at the table. Both were extremely social, and were married to men Brad had heard about and never met. It was exhausting trying to keep the conversation moving. And after dinner he was relieved to slip away. The living room was full of sated, happy people, drinking brandy. And most of them looked like they were planning to stay all night. Pam was engaged in a heated debate at that point, over some recent tax law that was of no interest to him. And the kind of law he practiced was of even less interest to them.

Brad felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him, as he slipped into his study, turned on the light and closed the door. He took off his black satin bow tie and dropped it on the table, and then sat down in his desk chair and sighed. It had been an interminable evening, and all he could think of was how much he missed his boys. He longed for the kind of holidays they'd had when they were little, when Thanksgiving still had some meaning to him, and it wasn't an excuse to invite forty strangers to the house. Pam used every opportunity to fill the room with people who were useful to her, rather than those who had real meaning in their life. Although there were precious few of those left, and he and Pam no longer shared common friends. His were defense attorneys and public defenders, hers were socialites and social climbers, and heads of corporations she wanted to lure to the firm. Brad knew that no evening was complete for her, unless she felt she had made what she referred to as a “score.”

He glanced at his computer and wished that he could e-mail Jason and Dylan and wish them a happy Thanksgiving. Instead, he typed in Faith's e-mail address in New York. It was nearly two A.M. for her.

“Hi… are you still up? How was your Thanksgiving? You probably won't get this till the morning. I finally escaped. A total zoo. Forty people for dinner, in black tie. One can't help but be impressed by the absurdity, and emptiness, of spending Thanksgiving in black tie. I missed the boys. That's what holidays are all about. What about you? Peaceful and pleasant? You must be happy to have the girls home. I envy you. I'm working tomorrow. Two new kids in jail, and a third I think the county is referring to me. What happens to these kids way at the beginning? It would be nice if they didn't need me, and just had happy, ordinary lives, whatever that is. I felt so stupid tonight spending Thanksgiving with a bunch of strangers, all dressed up like waiters. Pam loved it. Wish I could say the same. Sorry to complain. Just tired, I guess. Talk to you soon. And happy Thanksgiving by the way. Love, Brad.”

He shuffled through some papers on his desk, not wanting to go back out amongst the guests. He was planning to sneak up the back stairs and go to bed. He had a long day the next day. And Pam was used to his leaving parties early. He always did it discreetly, so as not to disrupt the guests, or make them feel they had to leave. He was sure that Pam and many of the others would be there till long after midnight. But he was delighted not to be in their midst.

He was just turning off the lights in his study, when his computer told him he had mail. He clicked the button, and saw it was from Faith. He smiled and sat down.

“Hi… nice surprise … I'm still up. Your Thanksgiving sounds very fancy. We were just the four of us, but it wasn't easy. It started out okay, the bird was good, everyone liked the dinner. And we got in a huge fight at the end of it about my going to school. Zoe shouted at her father, Alex had a fit, the girls got into an argument. Everyone went to their separate corners, and then both girls went out with their friends, and Alex went to bed. Zoe is home, Ellie is still out. The girls are furious with each other, or were, and Alex wouldn't speak to me after dinner. It's my fault really. He was dismissive about my going to school, and I lost my temper and snapped at him. That set him off, so he said some fairly harsh things, and Zoe leaped to my defense. I shouldn't have reacted in the first place, and then everything would have been all right. I should know better. I'm an adult for heaven's sake. He just hit a nerve, I guess. In the end, he said I should do what I want, but the implication was that if I screw up, I'm up shit creek. It's a victory of sorts, but not at the expense of the girls getting along with each other. They have so little time together, and dinner was a mess in the end. I hope they patch things up before they leave. Why do things always get so complicated? What happened to nice peaceful family Thanksgivings among people who love each other, don't get mad at each other, and say nice things? At least the girls were here. I'm grateful for that. Sorry to whine. I was trying to wait up for Ellie so I could apologize to her, but it's two A.M. and I'm going to bed. Happy Thanksgiving to you too, big brother. Love, Fred.”

It made him happy to read it, and he felt sorry for her. It sounded like a tense afternoon. At least he and Pam hadn't argued for once. He knew better, and did his best to avoid making scenes.

He was quick to type in a response to Faith, in case she had not yet gone to bed. But knowing how quickly he normally responded, she had decided to wait up for a few more minutes to see if she heard from him again. And of course, she did. Their e-mails were like a candy dish they passed between them, and neither of them could resist responding instantly, if at all possible, when they got the other's mails.

“Dear Fred, Sounds like a tough day. I'm sorry. But a victory too, if Alex gave you tacit ‘permission’ (I hate to acknowledge or endorse that he has that power over you) to go back to school. That's actually good news. The silver lining in this one. Sorry about the girls. Hard on them too, if Alex puts them in that position. If you're anything like you used to be, when you were soothing Jack and me during our occasional arguments, you are the ultimate peacemaker, and I suspect you still are. You can't fix everything for everyone, Fred. It's okay for them to disagree sometimes, or even to defend you against him. The important thing was that you were all together, and you stood up for yourself. That's good for them to see, even if it caused some dissent among the troops. They'll get over it. Most important, I'm thrilled he gave you the green light for school, if only because now you'll feel less guilty about it, and can actually do it. I think you should go to NYU law school next year.

“By the way, I keep forgetting to tell you. I have to come to New York in a few weeks. Right before Christmas. It's a national conference for criminal defense attorneys, and I thought I might pick up some interesting stuff. I'll only be there for two days, and I'll be pretty busy. Hope you can spare me a minute for dinner or lunch.” What he was most grateful for this time was that they had maintained contact. In fact, they had formed a tighter bond than they had had for years. He was determined not to lose sight of her this time, for old times' sake, for Jack's, and for his. And she was grateful for it too. “I'll give you the dates and the schedule when I'm in the office,” he continued. “It'll be fun to see you. Hope the weather isn't too miserable by then. I can't afford to get snowed in. Hard enough to get away for two days. Goodnight, Fred, it's back to school for you!!”

She smiled when she read it, and jotted off a few more words to him. “Thanks for the encouragement. You make the day seem like less of a fiasco. I've been upset all night over it. Can't wait to see you when you're here. I'll try to fit you into my busy schedule,” she teased him. “I'll have my secretary let you know what day is good for me. Seriously, I'm entirely at your disposal. Just tell me when. Goodnight, have a good day tomorrow. Love, Fred.”

He read it, smiled, and turned off his computer. It had been a long day, a boring evening for him, and a sad one for her. But at least they had each other. That was something. The cherished gift of friendship and brotherly love between two old friends. As far as Brad was concerned, it was what Thanksgiving was all about, and he was grateful for her.

7

THE ATMOSPHERE WAS STILL STRAINED BETWEEN ZOE and Ellie when Zoe flew back to Brown on Sunday morning. They all had breakfast together, and the two girls appeared to be talking to each other, but Faith couldn't help but notice that the exchanges weren't warm. And she was especially sorry that they didn't have time to patch things up further before they left. Eloise was flying back to London that night. And Alex disappeared before lunchtime to spend the afternoon with a friend. He said good-bye to Eloise before he left.

“I'm sorry things got out of hand on Thanksgiving,” Faith apologized to her. She was especially upset about the rift between the girls.

“I still think Daddy's right, that you shouldn't go back to school. It'll be too stressful for you, and you won't have any time to spend with him.” She always thought of her father first.

“I need something better to do with my time than play bridge or have lunch with friends.” Faith continued to defend her ideas, but Ellie looked unconvinced.

And as she stood there, she looked tall and beautiful and cool. She looked a lot like Alex when he was younger. And she had that same distant, slightly removed demeanor. She had boundaries for people not to come closer, unless she invited them to. And in contrast, much like Faith, Zoe seemed to have none at all, or very few. And it struck Faith as she watched her, that somewhere in the middle of the two positions would have been good.

“It's going to upset him if you do it,” Ellie warned her, and Faith nodded.

“I'll do my best to see that doesn't happen. And if it does, I can always quit.” It wasn't a strong position to take, but she wanted to give herself room to move.

“I guess so,” Eloise said vaguely. “Maybe you shouldn't start in the first place.”

“I'm just taking a couple of classes,” Faith said, and smiled at her. “Law school's not a sure thing yet.” And she still had to get decent grades on the LSAT, or it would be irrelevant.

“Don't make any hasty decisions, Mom,” Eloise warned her as though Faith were the child and not the mother. “Try to think of Dad too.” All Faith wanted to do was remind her, when hadn't she? Everything she did with her life, and had, was in accommodation of him. But she realized that she didn't always let her daughters see that. It was something she did discreetly, as she planned her life around him. But she seemed to get no credit for it, from him, or the girls, Ellie at least. Zoe was far more cognizant of the sacrifices her mother made.

Eloise went to finish packing her suitcase, and Faith made her a sandwich and a cup of soup before she left. No matter how awkward the conversations had been, or how stressful their Thanksgiving dinner, she was thrilled that Ellie had come home, and thanked her for it before she left.

“I'll see you in a few weeks,” Faith said as she hugged her before she left. Ellie was planning to come home for Christmas, and had insisted her mother didn't need to come to the airport. She was perfectly capable of taking a cab to the airport by herself, and in fact preferred it that way. Alex would have preferred that too. Faith and Zoe liked companionship at all times. Eloise was very different from them.

The house was astonishingly silent once both girls were gone. It depressed Faith as she checked their rooms, stripped the beds, and washed the sheets. There was a cleaning person who came in three times a week, but as a motherly gesture, which still allowed her to take care of them, she preferred to do their rooms and laundry herself. It was all she could do for them. And as she wandered around the silent house, she was reminded of how empty her life was without them.

She was actually relieved to see Alex come home that night. He had spent the afternoon at a downtown maritime museum with a friend from Princeton who was asking him to be on the board. Alex said he had enjoyed himself, and he seemed slightly more pleased than usual to see Faith, which startled her. She wondered if he was lonely for the girls too. Their absence impacted everyone, even Zoe, who felt like an only child now when she came home, and didn't like it. But it was hardest of all for Faith.

Faith and Alex spent a quiet evening together. He told her about the maritime museum he'd visited, and the plans he had for that week. It was the longest conversation they'd had in months, and after their argument at the end of Thanksgiving dinner, and his vehemence about her not going to school, she was stunned. It also gave her a chance to share with him how lonely she was without the girls.

“You knew this would happen eventually,” he said sensibly, seemingly surprised that it bothered her as much as it did. It was hard for him to conceptualize that this had not only been her heart, but her job for twenty-four years. Had he lost his, he would have understood. “You have to find other things to do. Going back to school just seems so extreme to me. And so pointless, Faith. Most lawyers want to retire at your age, not start their careers.”

“It would open a lot of doors to me. Everything else seems so short-term, like a Band-Aid on a wound. This would be a whole new life. And who knows what I would actually do with it eventually. I'm not even sure of that myself.” He still seemed not to understand, but he wasn't taking it quite as personally, which was a relief. His talking to her about it made for a cozy evening for them, and took the edge off her missing the girls. It was one of those rare evenings that only happened to them once in a blue moon. And for the moment at least, he seemed to have forgiven her for wanting to go to school. Or had put his own hatred of the project on hold. For the time being at least. And his doing that created some much-needed and unexpected warmth between them.

For the next two weeks, Faith kept busy getting ready for Christmas. She bought presents for Alex and the girls. He took several trips, and they saw so little of each other that the topic of her going back to school didn't come up between them again. In the little she saw of him between business trips and after work at night, all he did was eat, say a few words to her, and go to bed. She was busy getting ready for the holidays, and had agreed to help organize a benefit for Sloan-Kettering for the spring. She had already told them she might only be able to help for the next few weeks. Once she started school in January, she wouldn't have time to continue working on it, but they said that worked for them. They were grateful for whatever time she could give.

She and Brad were still e-mailing regularly, but after Thanksgiving, their e-mails had been brief. He had two trials to prepare, and a bunch of new cases he had to evaluate. It was a crazy time for him. It was two weeks after Thanksgiving when she was eating a yogurt in her kitchen before going to a meeting at Sloan-Kettering, and opening her mail haphazardly. The confirmation of her two law classes at the School of Continuing Ed was there. One of them was Constitutional Law, and the other was a more general class on the law in a broader sense. It had sounded very abstract to Faith. But it was nice getting the confirmation, and made her plans seem more real. And she mentioned it to Brad when he called. He promised to take her out and buy her a bottle of champagne to celebrate when he came to town, and she sounded pleased.

“When are you coming?” She had almost forgotten about his trip. Between joining the benefit committee, Christmas shopping, and her LSAT class, the time had slipped away.

“A week from today. The fourteenth. I'll the sixteenth. I hope to hell you're free.” He'd given her the dates once before, but he hadn't been specific about when he'd be free to see her, and he wasn't sure yet. But one thing was sure, he wanted to spend as much time with her as he could.

“We don't have anything planned. I'll check with Alex. He's been pretty busy at the office. Maybe you and I can go out to dinner, or at least lunch.”

“You'd damn well better have time for me!” he warned.

“I will.” They chatted for a few more minutes about school, and she spent the next two days worrying about the LSAT exam she was going to take. She was praying she would do well. She always underestimated herself, and had for years. Alex didn't help in that area. He put her down without meaning to sometimes, and at other times, he did it intentionally.

“When are you going to tell Dad that you're definitely going to take classes in January?” Zoe asked and was worried for her when they spoke of it. She knew how important it was to her mother to get his approval of what she did. And she was afraid that if her father didn't relent, her mother might not do it after all, which Zoe thought would be disastrous and depressing for her. She was as anxious as Brad to see her mother get a new lease on life, and go back to school.

“I'll do it this weekend. I hope he's in a decent mood.”

“Me too,” Zoe said anxiously. “I'll keep my fingers crossed, Mom. Just take a deep breath, and do your best. And no matter what he says, you have to do the right thing. That's what you would tell me.”

“Yeah. I guess it is.” She didn't sound convinced.

The conversation, when it happened, was almost as difficult as Faith had feared. They hardly saw each other on Saturday. Alex worked in the office all day, trying to catch up on assorted projects he had to complete by the end of the year, and they went to a dinner party that night. They were late getting there, and he was exhausted when they got home, and went straight to bed, and fell asleep.

She finally forced herself to broach the subject with him on Sunday afternoon. He was reading some papers he had brought home from work, and was sitting next to the fireplace in the living room. Faith brought him a cup of tea and sat down at his feet.

“Alex,” she started cautiously. But she knew she had to jump in. He had to know what she was planning to do, and she didn't want to lie to him about it. Having it hang over her unresolved was making her feel sick. She knew what she wanted to do. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” He looked irritated by the interruption when he glanced at her.

“What's up?” He might as well have said “Make it quick.” He wasn't in the mood to talk.

She decided to make it brief. “I signed up for the two classes at NYU. I'm starting in January. And you know how much that means to me.” He knew she had sent the forms in earlier, but it was definite in her mind now that she would go. And she felt obliged to share that with him. There was an endless silence from Alex, as he looked down at her from where he sat. He said nothing for a long moment, and took a sip of the steaming tea. The pause seemed interminable to her. “I know you don't like the idea of my going back to school, but this isn't law school yet. We can see how this goes, and how manageable it is for us. I'm only taking two classes, and if we really can't handle it, we'll both have an idea by the end of the term. But, Alex … I really want to try. I'll do my best to make it a nonevent for you.” She felt she owed it to him to make him part of the decision, and allow him to acquiesce, if he would.

He looked at her long and hard, and he knew her well. He didn't want her going back to school, but he also knew that if he said no, at this point, it would have an impact on them. There was no avoiding that now.

“I don't want to give you my blessing on this,” he said finally, as she felt her stomach churn, “but I also don't want the responsibility of telling you that you can't. I think I'm going to have to leave this up to you, Faith. I think it's a foolish thing to do, and a genuinely bad idea. I don't see how you can make this a ‘nonevent’ for us. I think you're kidding yourself about that. If you do it right, it's going to impact your time, and your ability to spend time with me, or even the girls when they're home.” But she had thought of that, and thought it was worth the inconvenience to all of them for the next few years, and all she had to do, she told herself, was be organized about her study time.

“I'd like to try,” Faith said quietly, looking at him with imploring eyes. They would have melted any man's heart, but his. Alex was better defended than most, and was impervious to feminine wiles.

“Then do what you want. But even if you manage those two classes, which seems pointless to me, law school would be another story. It's a major event, and will demand all your time. Don't kid yourself about that. And I'm not going to put up with it,” he said ominously, and then went back to reading his papers. The subject was closed. He didn't comment further, or congratulate her for her plans. He had neither approved, nor denied. He had put the responsibility on her, and she grabbed what she got and ran. She was more than willing to take full responsibility for what she wanted to do, and make every possible effort to make it work. She quietly left the room, went to her study, and picked up the phone. She called Zoe in her dorm and told her that she was going back to school. There was victory in her voice.

“Did Dad say yes?” She sounded stunned.

“More or less. Not in so many words.” She sounded pleased. “He just said he wouldn't stop me, and he thinks it's a bad idea, but he left it up to me.” Zoe gave a war whoop of glee. She was thrilled. And so was Faith. It truly was a victory for her.