Answered prayers

She wrote an e-mail to Brad after that, telling him that Alex had not stood in her way. It was the best she could have gotten from him. It wasn't in his nature to lend more support than that, or recant on what he'd said. And it was good enough for her. He didn't have to be jubilant about it, just not demand that she withdraw or forbid her to go.

She made dinner for Alex after that. He never mentioned her plans again, or asked her about them. He was quiet that night, read his papers at the dinner table, and mentioned before he left the table that he was going to Los Angeles that week. He was leaving on Tuesday and would be gone for four days. He didn't tell her much about the trip, but assured her that he'd be back on Saturday, in time to attend a Christmas party they went to every year. Faith didn't question him, she just acknowledged what he'd said. She didn't want to rock the boat, and spoil the progress she'd made. She was in her study that night when an e-mail came in from Brad.

“I was playing tennis when your e-mail came in. Sorry, Fred. Bravo!! What did you do to him? What did you have to give up in order to get what you want, or would I rather not know? In any case, I'm happy for you!! Great news!! Can't wait to see you this week. I'll be in on Wednesday night, and out again Friday afternoon. Can you make dinner Wednesday night? I might be able to do Thursday night too. Won't know till I see the final schedule for the conference. I'll let you know as soon as I do. I'll call as soon as I get to the hotel. My flight gets in at five. I should be at the hotel after six. See you soon. Congrats again! I'm proud of you, Fred. Love, Brad.” He was always warm and supportive, and she couldn't wait to see him. It had worked out perfectly that Alex was going to be away. She wasn't hiding seeing Brad from him, but it would have been harder to be flexible about time to spend with Brad, if Alex had been in town. His trip to L.A. had been perfectly timed.

She was madly busy for the next few days, and let the benefit committee know that she would only be available to work until mid-January, and after that, she would have to quit. They were understanding about it, and she spent a day in their offices. And another day Christmas shopping. Zoe was coming home that weekend, right after Brad left. It was going to be a hectic week. And she was planning to buy the Christmas tree with her. She wasn't sure yet when Ellie was coming home. She had been vague so far about dates. And on Tuesday night, she called home. It was nearly midnight for Faith, and early morning for her, before she went to work.

“Hi, sweetheart, what a nice surprise.” Faith hadn't told her yet about getting into school. She'd been saving it till Ellie got home.

“I hope I didn't wake you up,” Eloise said cautiously.

“Nope. I was just finishing our Christmas cards.” She'd gotten a great photograph of the four of them the previous summer, on a sailboat off Cape Cod, and had used it as their Christmas card. She sent photographs of them every year, but it was getting harder and harder to get them all together. She was grateful she had this one. “When are you coming home?”

There was a brief pause. “I… uh …” Faith's heart sank as she heard the words. “I wanted to talk to you about something. I didn't know how you'd feel. I've been invited to go skiing in Saint Moritz.” Anxiety and guilt dripped from her voice. Faith knew her daughter well.

“That sounds like fun. Pretty fancy doings. Anyone I know?”

“Geoff's parents rent a chalet there every year, and he invited me to go.” Geoffrey was the boy she'd been dating for three months. Faith didn't think it was serious, at least Ellie hadn't said it was, but he sounded like fun, and they were having a good time.

“Sounds like I'm going to have to fly over and meet him one of these days. Is this serious, El?” Faith asked pointedly, and Eloise laughed.

“Now, Mom … going skiing with him doth not a marriage make.”

“That's good news. For now at least.” She was young, and it was still too soon. But Eloise was sensible, both girls were, and she wasn't likely to fall head over heels after three months, although you never knew, Faith reminded herself. It was certainly the most serious involvement she'd had in a while. “When did you have in mind?”

There was another pause. “I… ah … well, actually, he invited me from the twenty-first to New Year's Day.” It was out.

“Christmas?” Faith sounded stunned. “You wouldn't come home?”

“I don't really have enough time. We can only take that week off, and the weekends on either end. We're closed that week, so if I come home, I'd miss out on skiing with him. I couldn't go. I sort of thought… I was hoping maybe you wouldn't mind … I feel kind of mean doing it, but I'd really love to go.” It would be the first time that both girls wouldn't be home for the holidays.

“Gee, sweetheart, I was really looking forward to your coming home. It won't feel like Christmas if it's just the three of us. Do you think you could come home a little earlier, and maybe go to Saint Moritz on the twenty-sixth?” She was clutching at straws, but it brought tears to her eyes to think of her not coming home. It felt like a tremendous blow to Faith.

“I can't get the time off,” Eloise said, sounding stressed. “It's okay if you won't let me, Mom… I understand. …” But she sounded upset at the thought. It was obvious that she wanted to go to Saint Moritz with Geoff, rather than come home. And now Faith felt like a monster if she didn't agree.

“Can I think about it for a couple of days? Dad just left for L.A. this morning, but I'd like to talk to him.”

“I already did,” Eloise blurted out, and Faith was shocked again. Alex hadn't said a word to her. There was always complicity between those two. They were allies against everyone else.

“You did? What did he say?”

“He said it was fine with him.” That really upset Faith. He had given her permission, without even discussing it with Faith. It seemed a mean thing to do, particularly knowing how much Ellie coming home for Christmas meant to her mother. It also made her the bad guy if she said no.

“I guess there isn't much for me to say,” Faith said, feeling sadder than she allowed herself to sound. “I'd like you to come home, and we've been looking forward to it. But I don't want to keep you from doing something fun. It's really up to you, sweetheart.”

“I'd like to go,” Ellie said honestly, and Faith felt it like a physical blow.

“Okay, I understand. But I don't want you doing this every year. I want Christmas to be sacred for all of us. I want both of you to plan on coming home. You get a pass this year, but plan on being here for Christmas next year, no matter what. If need be, you can bring Geoff, if he's still around.”

“Don't worry about that, Mom,” Eloise said, sounding relieved. “And thanks … I've got to run.” She was off the phone seconds later, and Faith sat in her study feeling crushed, as tears rolled down her cheeks.

She was losing them, there was no denying it. They had grown up. And it could only get worse. Boyfriends, husbands, jobs, friends, trips. A thousand things were going to come into their lives now to sweep them away from her. And the thought of not having Ellie home for Christmas nearly broke her heart. What was more upsetting was that Alex had endorsed the plan, and never told Faith what he'd done. It had undermined her, and put her in an awkward spot. And as she turned off the light in her study and went upstairs to bed, she wondered how she was going to get Ellie's Christmas presents to her, there was barely enough time. She just hoped that Zoe didn't get any ideas when she heard. Faith couldn't help wondering if the dissent between the two girls over the Thanksgiving holiday had spurred Eloise not to come home. It was hard to say. Or maybe it was just life. It was what she had to expect now. But the change was painful for her. Perhaps for Faith most of all.

It was only as she turned off the light that she remembered Brad was coming the next day. She had been looking forward to it, but Eloise's call had put a damper on everything for her. It would be good to see him of course, and he always reminded her of her brother Jack. But his visit was no substitute for Eloise coming home for Christmas. There was no substitute for that, and nothing to soothe her sense of loss. Her heart felt like a bowling ball as she climbed into bed.

8

FAITH WAS THINKING OF CALLING ZOE THE NEXT MORNing to tell her Ellie's plans. And then she decided not to after all. Zoe was studying for exams that week, and selfishly Faith didn't want to give her any ideas. There was no question in her mind that she wanted Zoe home. She didn't want her deciding to go skiing in Vermont, or go to the West Coast with friends—since she was still eighteen and Faith could still control what she did. Christmas was Christmas, and she wanted her home. She decided to tell her about Ellie going to Saint Moritz later in the week, unless for some reason the girls spoke to each other first. But they seldom called each other. The time difference complicated things, and they lived in very separate worlds. Faith was still upset, however, that Ellie had called her father first, and that he had endorsed her plans without discussing it with Faith. It made her feel shut out, and as though they were in collusion with each other, which to some extent they were. It was the nature of their relationship and who they were. They were both quiet and secretive, and somewhat uncommunicative, and as Faith thought about it, she realized that she had forgotten to tell Ellie she had confirmed the two classes at NYU. But she had been so bowled over by her plans not to come home, that it had slipped Faith's mind. Maybe Alex had told her, although Faith doubted it. He wouldn't have considered it a piece of good news. And if he had said anything, Faith was sure that Ellie would have commented, even if only to disapprove. She was very definitely Daddy's girl, and had just proved it once again.

For the rest of the day, Faith was busy with errands and things she had to do. She bought paper to wrap their gifts, groceries, and a list of things Zoe had asked her to pick up before she got home. Faith was home by four, and in the bathtub when Brad called. She smiled as soon as she heard his voice. It was the way she used to feel when she heard from Jack.

“Hi, Fred. I'm at the hotel. I just got in. What do we have planned?”

“Nothing I know of. I'm all yours. Alex is in L.A. It worked out perfectly. Do you want me to fix you dinner?” She had bought a few extra things in case he wanted her to, but he laughed.

“What kind of big brother would I be if I didn't take my kid sister out for a decent meal? How about dinner in SoHo or something like that? Or would you rather stay uptown?”

“Anything you like.” She smiled delightedly. It was good just to hear his voice. “All I want is to see you.”

“I'll figure something out. I'll pick you up at seven-thirty There's an Italian place I used to love in the East Village. I'll ask the concierge what he thinks.”

“I can't wait to see you.” She was smiling when she hung up, and she realized that the prospect of seeing him took some of the sting out of Ellie's defection. The thought of the four of them not being together for Christmas had really upset her. And she realized that Brad was going through the same thing, or worse, with both his boys in Zambia. It was depressing. Gone the days of putting out cookies and milk for Santa and hanging stockings by the chimney. Celebrating Christmas without either or both of her children was a daunting prospect.

But she had put Ellie out of her mind again when Brad rang the door at seven-thirty She was wearing black slacks and a black cashmere sweater and a big red cashmere coat, and high-heeled black suede boots. Her shimmering blond hair was pulled back in a neat pony-tail and she was wearing big gold earrings.

“Wow, Fred! You look like one of Santa's helpers!” He put his arms around her and gave her an enormous hug, and lifted her off the ground as he did it. It was the same thing he had done when they were children. And when he set her down, he took a step back to look at her, and smiled with pleasure. “You look terrific. All the boys in law school are going to fall in love with you.”

“Hardly. I'm old enough to be their mother.” He looked terrific to her too. He had a slight tan from playing tennis in California, which made his eyes seem more green, and his dark hair looked thick and well groomed. He was lucky, time had not touched his hairline. And his body looked powerful and muscular even in the suit and coat he was wearing.

“You don't look like anyone's mother, Fred. Are you ready for dinner? I got a reservation at a place the concierge recommended. He thought you'd like it.”

“I don't care if we eat hot dogs in the subway. I'm just glad to see you,” she said, as she locked the front door. He had a cab waiting for them, and he took her hand as he led her across the sidewalk. He was in great spirits, and happy to see her.

She settled next to him in the cab, and they chatted on the way downtown. They were having dinner in SoHo. She told him about Ellie's call the day before, and her own disappointment over it.

“It sucks, doesn't it?” he said honestly. “I hated Thanksgiving without Dylan and Jason. It was our first holiday without them. And Christmas won't be much better. Pam has planned a new form of torture. A dinner on Christmas Day for a hundred. With luck, I'll be in jail, visiting a client. I don't care where the boys are next year, I'm going to see them. I should have done that this year. Maybe you should all go to Saint Moritz and surprise Eloise.” Faith laughed at the prospect.

“I bet she'd love that, and so would the boyfriend. At least we'll have Zoe. I haven't told her yet, I didn't want her getting any bright ideas like her sister.” But Zoe was younger. At eighteen, Faith could insist that she come home. At Eloise's age, it was harder to do, particularly if she had the approval of her father. “She called Alex before she called me, and apparently he told her it was fine with him. I didn't want to be the heavy, so I agreed. He never even told me.” Her complaints about Alex weren't new to Brad. She'd been sharing them with him for the past two months. He thought she was getting a raw deal from him, and always had, but he had been cautious so far in how he voiced it. He didn't want to offend her. But his point of view was very much what Jack's had been, and her brother had always been outspoken about how much he disliked Alex.

“It's amazing how kids play games, isn't it? And our mates along with them. Pam told them not to worry about coming home from college for Christmas one year, because she wanted to go on a cruise without them. She didn't even tell me till she'd bought the tickets, and by then they had other plans. I was seasick for two weeks on the cruise from hell, and I told her the next time she did that, I'd divorce her.” But from what Faith could see, she was still doing what she wanted. “The boys were ecstatic. They went home with a friend from Las Vegas, and spent the holidays with a couple of showgirls. They still talk about it as their favorite Christmas.” He grinned and she laughed along with him. Just seeing him and being with him reminded her in a nice way of her brother. It was the best Christmas gift of all being able to see him, and not just send e-mails. He had been remarkably devoted for the past two months, and this time neither of them had any intention of losing touch with the other. They had come to rely on their constant communication, by phone and e-mail.

They chatted easily on the way to the restaurant. He talked about his latest cases that had come in, and as they drove past NYU, he reminded her optimistically that she would be there soon, at the law school, and she smiled. It was easy just being with him, and talking about things. She admitted to him how hurt she had been when Ellie said she wasn't coming home.

“It's hard, Fred,” he said, looking gently at her, “we have to be pretty thick-skinned. It's not easy watching them grow up and go away. I can't believe how much I've missed my boys this year. But it's their job to try their wings, and ours to let them fly away. Tough stuff, I know,” he said, taking her hand. They held hands comfortably until they reached the restaurant. And she was startled by how cozy it was. It was an adorable little Italian place. The waiter gave them a table in a quiet corner, and she and Brad settled in. She dropped her coat over the back of the chair, in case she got cold. And Brad couldn't help noticing again how pretty she was. “I forget what you look like sometimes,” he teased. “When I get your e-mails, you're ten years old again in my head, or at the most fourteen. And then suddenly, when I see you, you're all grown up.”

“It's funny. It happens to me too. In my mind's eye, you're always about fourteen and I'm twelve. Remember the time we put the frog in Jack's bed?” She laughed just thinking of it, and so did Brad.

“Yes, I do. He damn near killed me for it. He put a snake in mine the next time I came over, as revenge. I hated those corn snakes of his.”

“Me too.” They ordered dinner then, and a half bottle of white wine. It was the perfect place to have come, it was quiet and pretty, and peaceful just sitting there with him. And with Alex away, they had all the time in the world.

“So what do you think will happen now, when you start classes in January?” In both their minds, the LSAT prep class didn't really count, although it was hard work. Brad asked with curiosity, after they finished their salad, and waited for the main course, “Do you think Alex will get used to it, or go berserk?” He didn't know about the LSAT class she'd been taking so couldn't object.

“I think he'll complain. But the truth is, we hardly see each other. We barely speak. He comes in, eats dinner, goes to bed. And a couple of days a week he goes on business trips. He wants a lot less attention from me than he thinks,” she said practically. She had it all worked out in her head.

“And what about you?” Brad asked pointedly. “What do you want from him, Fred?” It was the kind of question Jack used to ask her, and that she seldom asked herself. Faith was a woman who made few demands, and admitted to few needs. She had taken care of herself emotionally for a long time, just as she had as a child, with the exception of Jack's support.

“I don't need much,” she said quietly, lowering her eyes and looking down at her hands. “I have everything I want,” she said, glancing back up at him.

“I didn't mean materially, I mean what do you need from him to make your life work?” It was a question he had recently asked himself.

“My life works the way it is. Besides, Alex isn't someone who's open to meeting other people's needs.” He was shut down, and had always been. It was something she had accepted about him for a long time.

“How nice for him, if he can get away with it. Who's there for you, Fred?” The question was blunt and to the point, as Faith shrugged. For a variety of reasons, she had isolated herself in recent years. She had needed time to grieve Jack's death. And she had focused all her emotional energies on the girls in their last years at home. Alex hadn't enjoyed socializing with her much in recent years. He was consumed by his work. And particularly since Jack's death, she had drifted away from her friends. She had become very solitary, which made her all the more grateful for Brad's friendship now. It was easier to let him in because he was part of her childhood and had been so close to Jack. In some ways, she had not yet recovered from her brother's death.

“All I really need are my kids. They're always there for me.” She had reduced her needs to that, and it was all that mattered now.

“Really? It doesn't sound like Ellie's on that team, if she's going to Saint Moritz over the holidays. She's meeting her own needs, although that's standard behavior for one's kids.” He was blunt about what he saw, and it bothered him that Eloise was so kind to her father, and so hard on Faith.

“She's young,” Faith said rapidly, willing to make excuses for her, as she was for everyone else, and always had been. Where others around her were critical, Faith always made an affort to excuse and forgive. She was generous to a fault.

“The truth is that most of the time anyway, our kids aren't there for us. It's not their job to be. They're too busy putting together their own lives,” Brad said philosophically. “But it kind of makes you wonder sometimes who's there for us, if anyone. It's great if you have a big family, brothers and sisters, a supportive spouse. But if not, who does that leave? It's not a trick question, by the way. I don't know the answer to it myself. I was thinking about it on the plane on the way here. Pam is so busy with her own life, and her own concerns, I'm not sure if I needed her, she'd be there. That's a hell of a realization to make. I had to go to the hospital for a checkup recently, just ordinary stuff, but they asked for the name of who to call in an emergency. I put down my secretary's name after I thought about it. Because I figured if they called Pam, she wouldn't take the call. It was kind of a wake-up call for me.”

“What are you going to do about it?” she asked, as they set down a big juicy steak in front of him, and grilled sole in front of Faith.

“Absolutely nothing,” he said honestly. “But occasionally, it does me good to face reality. I used to have a lot of illusions about what marriage should be. And the truth is, it never was. Not ours in any case, and not my parents'. They hated each other for years until they got divorced. They did a lot of ugly stuff to each other when they did, and they hardly talked for years afterward. I never wanted to have a marriage like that, and I don't. Pam and I don't hate each other, thank God, I'm not sure what we feel for each other anymore, if anything. We're friends, I guess, or something like that. Or maybe just strangers who live at the same address.” It was a painful admission to make, but he had resigned himself to it years before, just as Faith had made her peace with the way Alex treated her, and how little he involved himself in her daily life. But she hoped that he would be there for her if she ever got sick. But failing that, he offered very little in terms of daily involvement and support. He was more interested in his own life, and had been for a long time. She couldn't even remember when it had gotten that way, or how different it had been before. Probably not much. She had just been busy with the girls, and hadn't had time to observe how absent he was. Even when his body was there, his heart and mind were not.

“You know,” Faith said thoughtfully, “it's more of a statement about us than about them. Their needs are being met, or they are living out their fantasies about marriage, or their histories. Neither of them seems to need much from us, or wants to be particularly involved. We see it differently, and want more, I guess, but we're willing to accept the little they mete out. What do you suppose that says about us?”

“I used to think it made me a good guy. Lately, I'm not so sure. I think it's more about cowardice and maintaining the status quo than about much else. I don't want to make waves. I don't want to fight with her. I never want a divorce. I want to finish my life the way I started it, on the same path, with the same house, the same wife, the same job I have now. I think I hate change, because of the way I grew up. My parents were constantly threatening each other, one was always about to move out. I grew up worrying about what was going to happen, and then finally it did. I don't want to live like that now. I don't want any surprises like that.”

“Neither do I,” Faith said with a comfortable sigh. It was nice talking about it with him. She used to do it with Jack, but there had been no one to fill that role since he died.

“We pay a high price for it though,” Brad commented as he finished his steak, and set his knife and fork down on his plate. Faith had only eaten half of her fish, but she had a small appetite, which was reflected by her tiny figure. “You sacrifice a lot when you compromise, especially when you're willing to let someone else set the terms. I guess I must figure it's worth it, or I wouldn't do it. The price of peace.” He was remarkably honest, and she admired him for it. He knew what he had given up, and he seemed comfortable with it. In its own way, his was not unlike her life. Except Alex was a little more dictatorial with her than Pam was with Brad. They seemed to have solved it by going their separate ways. She and Alex still shared a life, at least most of the time, even if they didn't communicate much, or share their thoughts. She hadn't confided in him in years.

“It's lonely sometimes,” Faith said softly, as though afraid to say the words. It was something she seldom even admitted to herself, but felt safe saying to him now. She felt safe with him, and always had.

“Yes, it is,” he agreed, and took her hand in his again. It was wonderful being with her. “Do you miss Jack as much as I do, Fred?” he asked after a long moment, and she nodded and looked into his eyes, hers were brimming with tears.

“Yes, I do, especially at this time of year. I don't know why. I miss him all the time. Christmas shouldn't be different from any other time, but somehow it is.”

“I don't miss Debbie though,” Brad commented honestly, and Faith laughed.

“God, no. She was such a bitch. Talk about sacrificing everything for peace. I'll never know why Jack put up with her. She was awful to him. I don't know how many times she left him, or threatened to. She'd have driven me insane. At least Alex goes his own way, and does his own thing, and it sounds like Pam does too. Debbie was constantly in his face.”

“He was crazy about her though,” Brad reminded her. “I couldn't figure it out myself. I think it's one of the reasons he and I saw less and less of each other. She hated me, and I wasn't too fond of her. It kind of got in the way with me and Jack.”

“You know, she walked away without ever looking back,” Faith explained as she sat back in her chair against the red coat, which looked like a giant flower engulfing her. “Her lawyer let us know she was getting remarried and moving away. She never called. She never wrote. I never heard from her again.”

“That stinks,” Brad said, and Faith agreed.

“Much as I dislike her, I wish Jack had had kids with her, or with someone at least. It would be so wonderful to have his children now. This way, there's nothing left… just the memories … and not much else,” Faith said, fighting back tears again, as Brad squeezed her hand.

“We have each other, Fred. That's what he left us. All the good times we shared, all those memories, all those years when we were kids.” She nodded in answer, and for a moment couldn't speak.

They had cappuccino after dinner, and decided to skip dessert. And Faith was surprised when Brad looked straight at her. “Do you suppose there are any good marriages, Fred? I wonder sometimes. When I look around at the people we know, I don't think there's a single one of them who has something I'd want. It sounds cynical, but I'm beginning to think no one's dreams ever come true. We all kid ourselves about what we're getting when we start out, and how it'll turn out, and in the end, we all end up like you and I. Making compromises that cost us a hell of a lot, and being grateful for our kids and old friends to get us by.”

“That's a sad way to look at it, Brad. I like to think that somebody out there is happy. I have friends who are. At least I think they are. I can't say I'm not. I just don't have what I thought I would with Alex. It's different, that's all.” And she didn't say it to him, but her faith sustained her, and added another dimension to her life. She had always been very devout, as was Jack. Brad had always admired them both for that, and envied them their faith.

“I think you're kidding yourself, Fred. We wouldn't be e-mailing each other for old times' sake, if we had what we want in our marriages. Our kids wouldn't be the hub of our lives to the extent that they are. We might even be happy when they finally grow up and go away. What do you think you have with Alex, Fred? What would you say, honestly? I think I had a friend and a business associate in Pam, and now that we don't work together we're just friends, if that. We're roommates, and not much more.” Listening to him, it sounded sad to her, but he seemed comfortable with it. He was remarkably honest, both with her and himself. He had few illusions left, and no dreams.

“I think Alex and I are friends,” she said thoughtfully, though he thought she was being overly generous, from all he'd heard from her. But she didn't delude herself that they were still in love. They were not, but they had been once. Or at least, she had been in love with him. She was no longer sure how much emotion Alex was capable of. Probably less than she had once hoped. “We support each other. No, that's wrong,” she corrected herself, “I support him. And he provides for me. He's a good father to the girls, he's responsible. He's a decent human being.” She was struggling to find more, and having trouble coming up with words to describe what he was to her. He was solid, she could count on him. But he didn't give her much emotionally, and hadn't in years.

“See what I mean? It's not exactly what you thought marriage would be, is it, Fred? When I take a good look, I see the same thing. But just like you, I wouldn't change it. I don't think there would be much point. I think the conclusion I've come to is that you get what you get, and you make the best of it. But the truth is, it leaves a lot of holes in your life to fill. You fill it with kids, with friends, with work, with dreams, with fantasies, with regrets, with whatever works. But no matter what you fill it with, or how hard you try to kid yourself, the holes are still there.”

“That's a tough way to look at it,” Faith said, a little shaken by what he'd said, but she couldn't disagree.

“I'd rather be honest with myself. When I wasn't, I was desperately unhappy, and constantly trying to make my relationship with Pam into something it could never be, and her into someone she never was. Once I accepted what it was, and wasn't, and who she was in my life, and who she could never be, I think I finally made my peace with all of it.”

“Is there someone else in your life?” she asked openly. It was a question she would have asked Jack, but there had never been for him. He had been too obsessed with Debbie to ever cheat on her, although she had cheated on him, and he had been devastated by it when he found out. But no matter what she did to him, he had always taken her back. Faith had always felt that her brother had taken forgiveness and loyalty to an insane degree, where his wife was concerned at least. But it was also what she'd loved in him.

“There was someone else once,” Brad answered as candidly as her brother would have. “I think Pam suspected it, but she never made an issue of it. I don't think she wanted to know. But those things can't go anywhere. They frustrate everyone if you want to stay in your marriage, which I did, and still do. People get hurt. I never felt right about it, and I never did it again. It's easier this way.” He seemed at peace with his situation as it was.

“Would you divorce Pam if you fell in love with someone else?” Faith asked, curious about him now. What he had said over dinner fascinated her, and he was equally intrigued by her, and what made her tick, now that she was an adult, what compromises she had made, in comparison to his own.

“Never,” he said, looking absolutely convinced. “When I married Pam, I meant what I said. For better or worse. Until death do us part. I'm not going to make the same mistakes my parents made. I owe it to my kids, and even now that they're grown up, relatively, they don't need all the misery of parents who hate each other, won't speak to each other, and destroy everything they ever built. I just wouldn't divorce her. And I'm not going to fall in love with anyone else. I wouldn't let that happen again.”

“Neither would I,” Faith said quietly, although she had had no opportunities, but she wouldn't have taken them if she had. For religious reasons if nothing else. But mostly out of respect for her marriage. “I feel the same way about it you do,” she concurred. “All you do is trade one set of problems for another. There are no perfect lives.”

“We're a sorry pair, the two of us,” he laughed, as he paid the check, and then he looked at her seriously. “I'm glad we found each other again, Fred. You're like a gift in my life. You suddenly make it all worthwhile … like a gold coin you thought you lost years ago, and find in the back of a drawer, and not only is it as beautiful as it once was, but you discover it's become even more valuable than it used to be. I love talking to you, and e-mailing you, and getting e-mails from you. You really brighten my days.”

She smiled at him, grateful for what he said. And she felt the same way about him. “It's your fault I'm going back to school. When I'm doing homework at three A.M., I'll blame you,” she teased.

“When you pass the bar, you can leave Alex and come and work for me.”

“Now that would make his worst nightmares come true!” She laughed, and they left the restaurant arm in arm. It was after eleven o'clock by then, and he had to get up early the next day.

“Have you got time to see me tomorrow?” he asked, as they walked down Prince Street, and he hailed a cab.

“Sure. Alex is in L.A. until the end of the week. And Zoe isn't due till the weekend. I'm a free woman, and I've finished my Christmas shopping,” she said proudly, as he made a face.

“I haven't even started mine. I have to do it when I go home.” In his case, it meant a quick stop at Tiffany for Pam. She loved jewelry, and she usually told him exactly what she wanted and had seen recently, to make it easy for him. And it was too complicated to send anything to the boys. He was going to bring them gifts when he went to visit them in the spring. And other than that, he wanted to buy a watch for his secretary, and could do that at Tiffany too. His shopping was of the male variety, done in one or two stores, in under an hour, on Christmas Eve. “Do you want to have dinner again tomorrow night? I think there's a dinner for the conference, but I can duck out of it. Why don't I pick you up at six o'clock? I'll talk to the concierge again and see what he recommends. I thought tonight was pretty good.”

“I thought it was great. My fish was perfect, and I loved the wine.” She hadn't even finished one glass, and Brad laughed at what she said.

“You still eat like a bird, Fred. It's a wonder you don't starve to death.” But she had always been like that, even when they were teenagers. Half the time, she just nibbled invisible quantities of food, and then she'd surprise everyone by eating two hot dogs and a banana split. She had loved banana splits when she was a kid.

He put an arm around her in the cab, and she cuddled up next to him comfortably on the ride home. It was cozy, and she felt safe just being with him. He nourished a deep inner part of her that had been hungry ever since Jack's death. It was a part of her that Alex had never fed.

He got out of the cab and told the driver to wait when they reached her house, and he watched while she turned off the alarm and let herself into the neat little brownstone house.

“I'll see you tomorrow night. I'll call before I come, and let you know what we're doing. Do you want to go someplace fancy?” He would have taken her anywhere she wanted, but she was quick to shake her head.

“I loved tonight. I don't care if we do pizza, or pasta, or burritos. I just want to hang out with you,” she said, and he gave her another hug as she beamed. The evening had been everything she wanted it to be.

“See you tomorrow!” he called out the window, as he drove away in the cab, with a wave, and she closed the door and locked it. And as she walked up the stairs to her bedroom in her big red coat, she had a sense of peace that she hadn't had in years.

9

BRAD PICKED HER UP, AS PROMISED, AT SIX O'CLOCK THE next night. All he had told her was that they were going for a simple dinner, and to dress warm, which she had. She wore a big down coat, and a green turtleneck sweater the same color as her eyes, black velvet pants, and fur-trimmed boots. It had gotten cold that day.

“So where are we going?” she asked when he picked her up. He had given the driver the address before she got in.

“You'll see,” he said mysteriously.

They stopped at Saks Fifth Avenue, and walked across the street, and she realized then that they were going to Rockefeller Center, to eat dinner, and watch the people skate around the rink. They sat at a table right in front of the big picture window, and it was fun watching people twirl and do pirouettes and do camel spins, and others stagger around and fall down. Everyone looked like they were having fun, and there were lots of kids among the adults.

“Remember when the three of us used to go skating in Central Park?” Faith asked with eyes full of happy memories and a broad smile. He had thought of taking her there, but decided on this instead. He thought the Wollman Rink in the park would have reminded her too much of Jack, as it would him. They had had so many adventures together, and he had loved them all. Being kids in New York then had been fun. They had lived on the Upper East Side, in a real neighborhood just north of Yorkville, and he and Jack had gone to the same school.

“Obviously I remember,” he said with a superior expression. “That's why we're here. I thought maybe after dinner, we'd take a spin. Or a spill as the case may be. I haven't skated in about twenty years. They don't ice-skate much in California.” The three of them had gone skating as kids at least once or twice a week. Jack had even been on the hockey team at school.

“You mean skate? Here?” She looked surprised and amused, but she loved the idea. “That would be fun!”

“I'm glad you think so too. You can pick me up when I fall flat on my ass.”

“Don't count on it. I haven't skated since we were kids.” She had taken the girls skating frequently when they were small, but sat on the sidelines and watched.

“Good. Then we're evenly matched.”

They ordered dinner, and Faith realized she was rushing through it so they could get to the ice. He had timed it perfectly. They had a six-thirty reservation, and finished punctually at eight o'clock, just in time for the next session. They went into the locker room to rent skates, while a man on the Zamboni was cleaning the ice. And by the time they had the skates on, the session had begun.

Faith ventured out gingerly onto the ice before Brad. She felt unsteady at first, and wondered if it had been too long. But by the time she had gone around the rink twice, she was surprised by how confident she was beginning to feel. Brad was skating alongside her by then, unsteadily initially, but like her, he found his sea legs faster than he thought. They had both been fairly decent skaters once upon a time. And within half an hour, they were skating around the rink happily hand in hand, and having a great time.

“I can't believe I can still do this,” Faith said, feeling surprisingly competent, with bright pink cheeks and her hair flying in the wind, as she looked up at Brad. She was glad she had brought gloves with her, after his warning to dress warm. She had had no idea what he had in mind, and wondered if he wanted to go for a long walk, or something equally sedate. She had never anticipated this, but was thrilled he'd thought of it. It was like a time warp into their past.

“You're still pretty good, Fred.” He had no sooner said it than she took a spill on the ice, but he gave her a hand up as they both laughed, and took off again.

Two hours later, they were both exhausted, but delighted with what they'd done. They turned in the skates with regret, but Brad admitted that if he had stayed on his skates for another hour, he might have died.

“I must be getting old,” he complained unconvincingly, but he didn't fool Faith. “I'm going to ache from head to foot tomorrow.”

“Me too, but it was worth every minute of it,” she smiled. She hadn't had as much fun since she was a child. It had been a terrific idea. “God, do you remember all those times we went skating with all your friends, and you guys let me tag along. You were always trying to chase girls, and I was always screwing it up for both of you. I used to do it to you on purpose, because I had such a big crush on you. I was about twelve or thirteen.”

“So how come I didn't marry you instead of Pam? Dumb, I guess,” he teased. There was no romantic overtone between them and hadn't been since they were kids in their early teens.

“I think I got over the crush when I was fourteen,” she laughed. It had actually been sixteen, when he went to college and she discovered other boys. But until then, for about eight years, she had thought the sun rose and set on Brad. And now that they had found each other again, she still did.

They walked slowly up toward Fifth Avenue, glowing from the cold, and feeling the exercise, but they were both relaxed and at peace. And as they stood on the corner, looking for a cab, Faith looked up at St. Patrick's Cathedral and had an idea.

“Do you want to go in and light a candle for Jack?” she asked solemnly, and the look in her eyes nearly broke his heart. She lit candles for him at mass several times a week.

“Sure.” He hadn't been to church in years, although he had gone to church with her and Jack and their mother when they were all kids. He was Episcopalian, but he liked the pomp and ceremony of the Catholic Church, and had taken communion with them once or twice to see what it was like in a Catholic church, and was surprised to find it was no different than in his. The Catholic Church had always seemed more mysterious and impressive to him. And Jack dared him to go to confession once, and he was surprised by how kind the priest had been.

There was a lot about Catholicism that had always appealed to him, although he had drifted away from his own church too in recent years. Faith still went to church regularly, but Alex wasn't religious, and resisted it energetically, and she had never been able to sell it to her kids. It was something she did on her own, but she had gone more frequently ever since her brother died. Instead of once or twice, she now went several times a week. It gave her a sense of communion with him, and of peace. It was the only way she had found consolation from his death. Brad didn't say anything as he followed her across the street to the church.

It was just after ten o'clock, and the doors were still open. There were beautiful Christmas decorations and poinsettias everywhere, and the church was spectacularly lit. It was an impressive sight, as they walked in, and just stood there, looking around.

There were altars to individual saints all along the sides, and banks of candles in front of them, and the main altar stood at the end of the central aisle, straight ahead. She made the sign of the cross, and side by side, they walked to the front of the church. It was almost as though she could feel Jack walking with them.

They slipped quietly into a pew, and sat there for a while, and she knelt and prayed, for Jack and her mother, and Charles, and her daughters finally, and then, still on her knees, she turned to smile at Brad. He had never seen her look more beautiful. It was almost as though there were an aura of peace around her, and a look of great tenderness in her eyes.

“I feel him here, with us,” she whispered. They both knew who she was talking about, and Brad nodded, with tears in his eyes, and then knelt next to her.

“Me too.” And then he bowed his head and closed his eyes.

It was just like the old days, skating together, and going to church. The only one missing was Jack, but it didn't really seem as though he was.

It was a while before they both looked up, and then walked past the main altar, to the smaller ones in honor of the saints. Faith genuflected down to one knee as they crossed the center of the church. And he followed her to the altar of Saint Jude. He had always been her favorite saint.

She slipped a five-dollar bill into the slot, lit a candle for Jack, and then held the burning stick toward Brad so he could light one himself. It had always seemed magical to him, as though something as powerful as that could only result in good things, and they stood side by side for a moment, thinking of her brother, in silent prayer. And then he took her hand, and they walked slowly away. They stopped just before they left the church, and Faith dipped her fingers in the holy water, made the sign of the cross, and smiled up at him.

“Thank you for coming here with me,” she whispered. She'd been to church earlier that week, but it meant more to her now, because he was here, as though their combined prayers were more powerful, as though it meant more to pray for Jack with him.

Brad was silent as he followed her outside, deeply moved. It had been years since he'd been to church, and he was surprised by how much it had just meant to him, or maybe it was just going with her, and the memories it stirred, of the three of them.

“Do you still have your rosary?” he asked, as they walked down the steps of St. Patrick's hand in hand. He felt even closer to her than he had in a long time, as though she were his sister now too, his blood, and not simply his friend.

“Yes.”

“Do you still say them?” He had always been fascinated by it when she was a young girl. He liked the rituals and the pageantry. Jack used to tease him about it and say he should convert and become a priest.

“Sometimes. More in the last few years, because of Jack. Sometimes I just stop in at church and pray for him.” Brad nodded, not wanting to ask her why, or just what exactly she thought it did. For him, it was enough that she wanted to, and that it made sense to her. It always had. She had even said once or twice as a little girl that she wanted to be a nun. But Jack hated the idea and told her to forget about it. And as time went on, and she grew up, she was far more interested in having babies and getting married, which seemed healthier to him.

“Do you and Pam ever go to church?” she asked as they stood on Fifth Avenue. It was time to take her home, but he hated to leave.

He smiled at her question. “Pam is a confirmed atheist, or agnostic, I'm never sure which. She firmly believes there is no God.” He said it simply, without judging her. It was just who she was, and what she believed. His own beliefs had always been a little vague as to their form, but he did believe in God.

“How sad,” Faith said, and Brad smiled down at her. There was something so pure about Faith sometimes, he loved that in her, and had when she was a little girl. “What about the boys?”

“I don't think they're sure, or care much either way. I haven't exactly taken their religious life in hand. I just figured they'd do what they want one day. I haven't been in church in years. Do you and Alex go to church?”

“He's Episcopalian like you, and never goes. I don't think he's an atheist. He just hates going to church and thinks it's a waste of time. He thinks it's something women do. And the girls never want to go, except to light a candle for someone once in a while.”

“I always thought that was magical, when we were kids. Like making a wish. I always believed all prayers were answered. I think your mother told me that they were.” She had been a deeply religious woman, which had gotten her through a lot of her unhappiness being married to Charles in the early years, and her first husband before that, although she never admitted to being unhappy in either case. There had been a lot of secrets and denial in Faith's family in those days.

“I used to think all prayers were answered too,” Faith said sadly. Other people's, if not her own.

“And now?” Brad looked at her intently.

“Sometimes I'm not so sure.”

“Because of Jack?” he asked softly, looking into her eyes in the crisp December night, as their breath shot out plumes of frost in the cold air. She nodded in answer. “You know, it's funny. I'm not religious. I never have been. I never really went to church, except with you two and your mom, when we were kids. But I still believe what she told me, about all prayers being answered.”

Faith looked sober as she pondered what he'd said. “I wish I were as sure.” Life was no longer as simple as it had seemed then. Even in the worst moments of her life, she had relied on her faith.

“I still think they are.” There was a lump in his throat as he said it, and she couldn't tell if the tears in his eyes were from the cold or something else. “And I think Jack would think so too.”

Faith didn't answer him, she only nodded. She tucked a hand in his arm then, and they walked slowly up Fifth Avenue, not saying a word.

10

BRAD LEFT NEW YORK ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON, THE DAY after they'd gone skating. He called her in the morning to tell her how stiff and achy he was, and how he could hardly get out of bed in his hotel. But he had never had a better time. He wanted to stop by the house and say good-bye to her, but as it turned out, he didn't have time, and had to rush to make his plane. He called her from the airport instead.

“I wanted to give you a hug and wish you a Merry Christmas, Fred,” he said sadly. He was disappointed not to see her one last time. “I had such a good time last night. The best ever. We'll have to do it again the next time I come to town,” but he had no plans. And he seldom came to New York anymore, except for conferences like the one he'd attended. When he worked for his father-in-law's firm, he had come all the time.

“I had a great time too,” she said, feeling nostalgic. It had been so wonderful seeing him, and now that he was going back to California, it was like saying good-bye to part of Jack again. “I'm glad we went to St. Patrick's.”

“So am I. Maybe I'll go light a candle for him sometime in San Francisco. I believe in that. It still seems special.”

“I know,” she nodded. “I'll light one for you at midnight mass on Christmas Eve. Usually I can get Zoe to come to that with me.” It made Brad think he should do that instead of Pam's Christmas dinner. But on Christmas Eve they didn't do much. They usually had dinner at her father's, and then came home and went to bed. With the boys away, they had decided not to have a Christmas tree that year.

“When is Zoe coming home?” He had forgotten, but he knew it was in the next few days. And Alex was due home the next day. Brad had come into the house the night before for a few minutes, when he dropped her off. And Faith had shown him the study where she kept her computer and wrote him e-mails. It was a small cozy room full of photographs and what she called sentimental debris. But he liked seeing where she wrote to him. He could visualize her that way.

“Zoe will be home tonight,” she answered him, when he called from the airport. “Things will get crazy after that. Kids in and out of the house at all hours, clothes everywhere, and pizzas delivered in the middle of the night.”

“I really miss that these days,” he said, sounding sad. He would have liked to see her again. “I'll call you over the weekend. I'll be in the office both days. Take care of yourself, Fred.”

“You too. And thanks for two wonderful evenings. I loved it.”

“So did I.” They announced his plane then, and he had to go. “Light a candle for me the next time you go to church. I can always use some extra help.”

“I'll do that. Have a good flight,” she said as he hurried off the phone, and then she sat, thinking of him. It was so odd having him back in her life, and wonderful. It was a real gift. Seeing him had been the best of all possible Christmas presents, except if Ellie had come home. She still had to tell Zoe her sister was going to Switzerland for the holidays. But all she could think of now was the time she had just spent with Brad, and what it had meant to her. Their conversation over both dinners had been meaningful, and she had loved skating with him. It was amazing how easily they still opened up to each other, just like the old days, only better, because they were wiser now. It was so comfortable talking to him. In some ways, he was even easier to talk to than Jack had been. They had always disagreed about things like their mother's marriage, Faith had seen her as lonely and unhappy all her life, while Jack thought Charlie was a decent guy and his sister was too critical of him. And they had never seen eye to eye about their respective mates. She hadn't liked Debbie, and he had hated Alex. But there were no loyalties at issue with Brad, and they saw most things the same way, from the same side. It made her sad to realize how much he had compromised in his marriage. And she felt sorry for him. Pam sounded like the wrong woman for him, but it was obvious that he was entrenched for life. It was noble of him, but seemed misguided somehow, to her at least. But he might have said the same thing about Alex. Neither of them were easy marriages or mates, but they were whom and what they had chosen, and had decided to stand by. She respected him for it, and at the same time, pitied him.

She sent him an e-mail that night, thanking him for the dinners, and the skating. And just as she sent it, Zoe walked in, with four suitcases, her tennis racket, a camera bag, and her computer under one arm. She dumped it all in the front hall and walked into the kitchen. She was pouring herself a glass of milk as her mother walked in.

“Welcome home.” Faith put her arms around her and gave her a warm hug, and offered to make her something to eat, but she said she'd had a sandwich in the airport on the way home. She helped herself to some ice cream, and sat down on the kitchen table with a grin, as Faith smiled at her.

“This is a sight for sore eyes. It sure is good to have you here.” She was home for three weeks, and Faith was thrilled.

“Feels good to be here too,” she grinned, polishing off the vanilla ice cream. “When's Ellie coming home?” she asked as Faith's face clouded visibly.

“She's not. She's going to Switzerland, to Saint Moritz, to ski with Geoff and his family.”

“Are you serious?” Zoe looked stunned. “Is she going to marry him?” It was the only reason she could think of for Eloise not to come home, meeting her in-laws, or staying in Europe to get engaged.

“Not that I know of. She just wanted to do it for the fun of it.”

“And you let her, Mom?” Zoe couldn't get over it. The holidays were important to Faith, and Zoe couldn't imagine her mother letting her older sister off the hook that easily, but Faith wouldn't have, if Alex hadn't said she could.

“She called Dad first apparently, and he told her it was all right with him. So I let her get away with it this time, but I told her next year is mandatory. So don't get any ideas.” Faith wagged a finger at her, and Zoe grinned.

“Don't worry, Mom. I'm not going anywhere. But it'll be weird not having her here.” Zoe looked sad suddenly. It was hard to imagine Christmas without her sister, even if they didn't always get along with each other. It was going to seem very strange, and a little sad.

“I know it will,” Faith agreed. “You get to be an only child for three weeks.” Zoe's face brightened at that.

“Actually, that sounds pretty good. Where's Dad, by the way?”

“Flying home from California. He'll be back in a few hours.” He had called from the airport to say he was coming home a day early, and said he was bone tired.

“I just wondered,” Zoe said as she picked up the phone. Half an hour later, she was in her room, unpacking and dropping clothes all over the floor, her computer was set up, the front doorbell rang three times, and her best friends from high school had arrived. A pizza followed suit an hour later, and by the time Alex came home, there was loud music playing, the girls were laughing, and Zoe said they were going out. Utter chaos reigned, and Faith looked ecstatic, as Alex walked into their bedroom with a groan.

“We've been taken over by Martians,” he complained. “The pizza delivery boy was going out as I came in. There was someone else delivering Chinese food, Zoe just borrowed a hundred dollars, and there are about two hundred girls in her room. I'd nearly forgotten what it's like when she's home. How long is her Christmas break?” He looked exhausted and desperate, and Faith had just turned off Zoe's tub before it overflowed. But she loved the life Zoe brought to the house. It made Faith feel alive again just having her there.

“She'll be home for three weeks. How was your trip?”

“Exhausting. But peaceful by comparison. Do you think we could ask her to turn down the music, or should I just wear earplugs for the next three weeks? Was it always like this?” He looked overwhelmed.

“Yes. That's why I'm so bored when they're not here.” And then she looked at him, as he set down his briefcase, and collapsed in a chair.

“You didn't tell me you talked to Eloise about not coming home for Christmas.” She tried to keep accusation out of her tone, but it was obvious nonetheless that she wasn't pleased. And she hadn't talked to him all week while he was in L.A. He had never called, nor had she.

“I must have forgotten to mention it,” he said, looking vague.

“You could have said something to me before you agreed to let her do it. It put me on the spot when she called.”

“Is she coming home?” He didn't look so much guilty as concerned. Another body in the house at this point would have driven him insane. He'd forgotten what the girls were like when they were home.

“No, she's not. She told me you had told her she could stay over there. It didn't leave me much room to tell her she couldn't go to Saint Moritz, without looking like a real shit. So I said she could.”

“It'll be fun for her,” he said, taking off his shoes.

“I told her she can't do it again. I want the girls home for Christmas every year, no matter what, and if we don't set the precedent now, they never will. There will always be something more tempting than coming home.”

“She'll be fine,” he said, placating her.

“I know she will. But I'll miss her anyway,” Faith said, as the music in Zoe's room went up several decibels, and they heard a door slam.

“I won't,” Alex said honestly. “Besides, they didn't get along over Thanksgiving anyway. I figured it might do them good to be apart for a while.”

“It might have done them more good to see each other and make up,” Faith said stubbornly. She believed in the closeness of families and all that that entailed. And as she listened to him, she was reminded of all that she and Brad had said for the past two days. There were times when she and Alex were at opposite poles. In fact, most of the time.

“Do you suppose you can get Zoe to turn her music down? I'm going to go nuts if she keeps this up for three weeks,” he said, looking miserable, as he went to take a shower.

“Do you want dinner?” Faith asked over the din, as he paused in the bathroom doorway with an anguished expression.

“I ate on the plane. I just want to go to bed. Those kids will probably be up all night.”

“She said they're going out. I'll ask her to keep the noise down.”

“Thanks,” he said, and closed the door. There had been no kiss, no hug, no affectionate greeting. He had simply walked into the room and begun to complain about the noise. She couldn't blame him for reacting to the disruption, but it would have been nice if he'd had something to say to her after being away for three days.

She stopped in to see Zoe and her friends a few minutes later and asked them to try to hold down the noise. There were two pizza boxes sitting open on her bed, while two of the girls ate pizza and watched TV, and Zoe dried her hair. And there was an assortment of Chinese food waiting in the kitchen downstairs. Zoe had come home at full steam.

“Your father's going to bed in a little while, Zoe,” Faith said quietly. “Maybe you guys could tone it down a little bit.”

“We're going out soon, Mom,” Zoe shouted over the hair dryer. “Three of my friends are coming over in a few minutes, we'll eat something here, and then we'll go out.”

“Don't forget to turn off the TV and the stereo when you go downstairs.”

“I promise.” She did as she said, but when they finally thundered downstairs, Faith found Zoe's curling iron and her hot rollers blazing on the bathroom sink, and she had forgotten to empty the tub. It was useless to point it out to her. She always forgot anyway. She had also left two candles burning in the room, which worried Faith. She was always afraid they would burn down the house. Candles were a constant battle between them, and Zoe always accused her of being paranoid.

“Did they go out?” Alex asked hopefully, as Faith walked back into their room. He was in bed with a book, in pajamas, with freshly shampooed hair.

“No, but they will soon.” She didn't tell him about the candles and the curling iron. She knew he would be frantic too. At Zoe's age, there were times when she had the body of a woman, and the mind of a child.

When Faith went downstairs to check on them, they were eating Chinese food out of the boxes, and laughing hysterically. There were seven of them by then. And for an instant, she was almost relieved that Ellie hadn't come home to add her chaos to theirs, although she would have enjoyed it anyway. But Alex wouldn't have. “I thought we'd go buy the Christmas tree tomorrow,” Faith said over the others' heads.

“I can't, Mom. I'm getting my hair cut tomorrow, and I have to see my friends.” It was a tradition Faith loved sharing with her. But things were very different these days. Their traditions seemed to be vanishing in thin air. “I'm sorry. Can we do it next week?” Christmas was only nine days away.

“Do you want to do it on Sunday?” Faith asked hopefully.

“I can't. I'm going to a party in Connecticut.” “If I buy it, will you decorate it with me?” “I promise,” Zoe said, as she gave her a hug, and the doorbell rang again. Four more girls arrived, and it was another half hour before they all left. Zoe promised to be home at a decent hour, but didn't say when. And Faith stayed in the kitchen to clean up the mess. She didn't want to complain about it on Zoe's first night home. It was easier to do it herself, and it didn't take long. And when she went back upstairs to see Alex, he was sound asleep. She turned off the light, and went back downstairs to her study. The house seemed suddenly peaceful and quiet, and she smiled to herself. In spite of the noise and the mess, she loved having Zoe home. This was the life she had reveled in for twenty-four years, and it was nice having it back again, even if only for a few weeks.

She sent an e-mail to Brad, although she knew he was still on the plane. He was probably almost back in San Francisco by then. It was the second e-mail she'd sent him that day.

“Dear Brad,” she began, “well, chaos reigns. Music to my ears. Hair dryers, curling irons, pizzas arriving, Chinese food, giggling girls, rap music, stereos, TV, ice cream oozing down the counter to the kitchen floor. Zoe's home. And out again, with her friends. Alex came home from California in the midst of it all, and went to bed. He's asleep. She's out. I'm enjoying the onslaught, and by the time she leaves, I'll be off to school myself. How are you? Hope you had a good trip. It was wonderful seeing you again. I loved skating and both our dinners, and going to St. Patrick's with you. Come back soon. I miss you already. Interesting too to share our views on marriage and relationships, compromises, and the way things turn out in the end. We never used to talk about stuff like that when we were kids. Can't remember what we used to talk about. I think we just laughed a lot. I used to talk about this stuff a lot with Jack. Funny what we've ended up with, isn't it? Not the way it was supposed to work, but just the way it is. As long as the kids are around, I don't really mind. It's harder when they're away. Then you are more aware of what you've got, and what you don't.

“I wanted to buy the tree with Zoe tomorrow. She can spare me an hour in three weeks. We might have to put the tree up for Easter this year. Guess I'll buy it by myself. It's okay. As long as she's here. This house is like a tomb when she's gone.

“Don't work too hard this weekend. Talk to you soon. Love, Fred.”

She sat at her desk for a couple of hours, answering correspondence after that. And at midnight in New York, she had an e-mail from Brad.

“Hi… just got home. Turned my computer on, to write to you, and there you were. Send me some of that noise. I have the other side of that coin, bicycle pumps and skateboards in the front hall, single tennis shoes floating all over the house. Incredible racket from conflicting stereos and TVs, and my underwear always disappears. How can they wear all my shorts and take all my socks? Cars parked on the sidewalk outside the house. A cluster of young males devouring everything in the fridge. I miss it all. I wish mine were home too. Enjoy every minute of it! I enjoyed every minute with you, Fred. What a gift to have found you again, after all these years. I'm sorry I lost you three years ago. I promise it won't happen this time. You're too good to be true. Why didn't I snatch you up and keep you when you were fourteen? I was pursuing girls with big boobs and no brains in those days. The bigger the better. Jack would have killed me anyway. Better this way. I love you as a friend, little sister. Thank you for bringing so much sunshine into my life. If your mom were still alive, I'd go thank her for everything you are. Probably no thanks to her. You just are who you are. I'm going to go fall into bed. Wish I were there to decorate the tree with you. Give Zoe a hug from her mom's oldest friend. Don't kiss Alex for me, he wouldn't understand. And take care of you, Fred. Only nine more days till Christmas. Eight till I shop. Love, Brad.”

Faith smiled to herself as she read it, and then finally went upstairs to read in bed. She wanted to wait up until Zoe came home, which she did at two o'clock. And Faith went to kiss her goodnight. She looked happy and excited to see her friends, and her best girlfriend from high school had come home to spend the night with her, which was fine with Faith.

“See you in the morning, girls,” Faith said as she closed the door, and then opened it again. “No candles, please. I'd like to try not to burn the house down before Christmas, if we can manage it. Okay by you?”

“Okay, Mom,” Zoe looked amused. “Goodnight.”

Alex was snoring when she slipped into bed beside him, and she turned to look at him as she turned off the light. She could never have had the discussions she'd had with Brad that week, not with Alex, he wouldn't have seen the point of it. And he would never have waxed poetic over the lovable chaos of his children in the house. He wouldn't have skated with her, or gone to St. Patrick's with her to light a candle for Jack. Why was it that one could do things like that with friends, and never with the men in one's life? Alex was solid and serious and reliable, and they had been married forever. But he would have dismissed her out of hand if she had tried to talk to him about the sacrifices one made in marriage, or the compromises one had to make. He would never have understood, and wouldn't have wanted to. She and Alex talked about other things, like children, and business, and his latest trip, or something she'd heard in the news. But she couldn't have shared her philosophies with him, or the dreams of her heart. That was just the way it was. There was no point musing about it, or regretting what she didn't have. And now she could talk to Brad. Just as he had said about her, he was a gift in her life.

She turned the light off then, and five minutes later she was asleep. And when she woke up the next morning, Alex was gone. He had gone to seek refuge in the office and catch up on his work. Faith was getting out of the bathtub and reaching for a towel, when Zoe walked in.

“Wow, Mom! Where'd you get that bruise?” Zoe looked shocked, and Faith looked down in surprise. She hadn't even noticed it. There was a long black and blue mark on her hip.

“What? … Oh … that… I must have gotten it skating the other night,” she said, drying herself off. Although the bruise looked impressive, it was barely sore.

“You went skating? Since when do you skate?” Zoe looked surprised.

“Since I was about five. And not in a long time. Don't you remember? I used to take you skating when you were little, in the park.” Jack had even gone with them once or twice. But Zoe had probably been too young to remember.

“Yeah, I guess,” Zoe said vaguely. She had been more interested in ballet, and horses after that. “So who did you go skating with?” She couldn't imagine her skating alone. That seemed weird.

“An old friend of Uncle Jack's. We grew up together. He came to New York for a couple of days, and we went skating for old times' sake. It was fun.”

“What's he like?” Zoe looked interested, as her mother got dressed and they chatted. It was all part of what Faith loved about having her at home. It was company for her.

“He's a nice man. He reminds me a lot of Uncle Jack. We've been sending each other e-mails for the past two months. I ran into him at Papa Charles's funeral. He lives in San Francisco, and is a criminal defense attorney for kids. Heavy stuff. Felonies, that kind of thing. You met him at Uncle Jack's funeral but you probably don't remember him.” The girls had met a lot of people that day, and they'd all been upset. Zoe looked amused.

“Do you have a crush on him, Mom? You look so cute when you talk about him.”

“Don't be silly. I've known him all my life.”

“Weirder things have happened. Does he have a crush on you?”

“Nope. We're just good friends. Kind of like sister and brother. We talk about a lot of stuff, and have a lot of the same ideas. Probably because we grew up together. I guess that helps.”

“Is he married?” Zoe was intrigued by him. It sounded exotic to her. She couldn't remember her mother ever having a close male friend, although she knew some married women did. She also didn't think her mother had affairs, even though she thought her father wasn't nice to her. Zoe thought it would have served him right, and maybe been good for Faith. She was open to all possibilities, far more so than Faith.

“Yes, he's married. He has two sons, twins. They're working in Africa for the year. They're about Ellie's age.”

“Maybe she'd like to meet them sometime. Are they cute?” He had shown her a photograph, and they looked just like him.

“I think so.”

“Then they're probably not cute,” Zoe said, and walked back to her own room.

It seemed odd to Faith that Zoe was so intrigued by Brad. And a little while later, Zoe left to get a haircut, and Faith went out to buy the tree. She bought a tall wide one that would look nice in the living room, and they delivered it that afternoon. She was decorating it when Alex came home, and he stood watching her for a moment, and then sat down, as though the project didn't involve him. She was up on a ladder, hanging brightly colored balls on the top branches. She'd struggled with the lights for an hour before that.

“Want to help?” she asked hopefully. Zoe was nowhere in sight, and hadn't come home yet.

“Looks like you have it in control,” he said, and then disappeared. He hated decorating the tree. She always did it with the kids, but those days seemed to be over. The kids no longer had time, or the interest in doing it themselves. It took her another hour, and then she stood back and looked at her work with pleasure. The tree looked beautiful, and festive. She put on a CD of Christmas carols, and went to look for something on her desk. And when she did, she saw that she had mail. She hadn't checked her computer all day.

“Hi, Fred. Depressing day. Had to share it with someone. Got a call from a couple, saw them a little while ago. Their fifteen-year-old daughter is accused of killing their six-year-old son. From all I can gather, she is mentally ill, though not obviously so, but clearly she is. She may be tried as a result, though I think I can get a sanity hearing for her. She'll probably go to an institution for the criminally insane. Tragedy for them. They're destroyed. Some Christmas gift. The pictures of the little boy broke my heart. I'm going to see the girl tonight. She's being evaluated now. Some days I don't love my job. Can't do much to fix this one, or to help them, except pretty technical stuff. Sorry to bum you out. Hope you're having a decent day. Better than mine. Did you get the tree? I'll bet it looks beautiful. And you too. I liked your red coat. Did I tell you that? You look great in red. And on skates. More soon. Love, Brad.”

He sounded so down, she answered him immediately.

“I'm so sorry about the case. Sounds terrible. The ultimate nightmare, it will be like losing both kids for them. How awful for all concerned. I'm really sorry that landed in your lap. All is fine here. The tree is up. Looks pretty good. Zoe escaped all day. A six-hour haircut spared her tree-decorating duty. She'll be home any minute, I'm sure. Have to start dinner. Just wanted to say hi. I looked so good on skates, I now have a bruise from my hip to my knee. Zoe was horrified. Told her where I'd been and with whom. She was impressed. Hope you meet her again next time. Take care. Try to cheer up. Love, Fred.”

Zoe walked in as she was sending it. Her hair looked great, and she'd had her makeup and nails done too.

“Wow, don't you look glamorous.” Faith smiled at her, still sitting in her desk chair.

“Who are you writing to?” Zoe looked curious, and beautiful, and with her makeup done, she looked surprisingly like Faith as a young girl.

“Brad. The friend I told you about,” Faith said easily, and Zoe grinned.

“Mom, are you in love with him?” Zoe looked serious, and Faith shook her head.

“Certainly not. We're just friends.”

“Are you having an affair with him?” She was determined to make more of it than it was, but she was intrigued by it.

“Of course not. He's a friend. That's it.”

“I think you're in love with him, Mom,” Zoe said with a dogged look. “You should see your eyes when you talk about him. They sparkle and light up and dance.”

“You've been smoking crack again, Zoe Madison,” her mother teased.

“Nope. I think I'm right. You're in love.”

“And you are the silliest person I know,” Faith laughed.

“Does Dad know? About him, I mean.”

“I think I mentioned him to your father. He wasn't particularly interested. He doesn't have the wild imagination you do, thank God. Nor does Brad, fortunately. I had a crush on him when I was a kid, and I got over it when I was about fourteen. That was about a hundred years ago. So, no, I'm not in love.”

“Maybe you should be,” Zoe said seriously. “You're pretty miserable with Dad.” Zoe said it matter-of-factly and Faith looked horrified.

“I am not! That's a terrible thing to say.”

“Well, it's true. He never talks to you. He isn't nice to you. He never even kisses you, or gives you a hug.”

“Your father isn't demonstrative in front of other people,” Faith defended him.

“So what do you do? Wake him up when he's asleep three hours before you go to bed every night? Mom, I'm not stupid. And look at how he talks to you. You deserve better than that.” Zoe was sincere, and Faith was shocked. It horrified her that her daughter had observed all of those things, and had come to the conclusions she had, at eighteen. But none of that made her in love with Brad. But it distressed her that Zoe had such a dismal view of their marriage, and worse yet, it was close to the mark. But it hurt hearing it summed up that way. It disposed of their marriage like so much trash. Obviously, in Zoe's eyes, and even in Faith's sometimes, their marriage was not a success. But Faith had ways of looking at it that made it seem tolerable, and better than it was.

“What you're saying isn't true, Zoe. Daddy and I are happy together. We understand each other. This is comfortable for us.”

“No,” Zoe denied what her mother had said. She knew better and so did Faith, but she was not willing to admit the truth, either to Zoe or herself, except maybe to Brad. “He's comfortable, you're not. How can you be comfortable with someone who puts you down all the time and won't listen to you? You're better than that, Mom. All you ever do is make it work for him. Maybe one of these days you'll find someone who's nice to you, and leave him. I wish you would. For your sake. Ellie would have a fit, but she'd get over it. And I'd be happy for you.” She had it all wrapped up, and all the loose ends tied, much to her mother's dismay.

“Zoe!” Faith put her arms around her and held her tight. “How can you say all those things about your father?” She was horrified, at Zoe's perceptions, if nothing else.

“Because I love you, and I want you to be happy, Mom. And you're not. I'm glad you're going to school. Maybe you'll meet someone there.” She seemed hell-bent on Faith finding a new man.

“Zoe, I don't want to meet anyone. I'm married. I love your father. I'm not going anywhere.”

“Then you should. Maybe this guy Brad.” She was determined to pair her mother off with someone else, and Faith was appalled by the idea.

“No, not Brad,” she corrected her quickly, “he's like a brother to me.”

“Then what do you talk about in your e-mails?” She was still curious about him.

“Just stuff. You and Ellie, his kids, his job, my going to school. My brother Jack. His wife, your dad.”

“Sounds pretty good. What's he look like? How old is he?”

“He's tall, green eyes, black hair, cleft chin. Forty-nine.”

“Is he cute?”

“Yeah. I guess he is. I don't think of him that way, he's like family,” but what she had just said wasn't entirely true. She had noticed this time, and at Charles's funeral, how handsome he was. But she didn't want to admit that to Zoe, or she'd go berserk, and come to the wrong conclusions.

“Do you have a picture of him?”

“No, I don't.”

“See, you just did it again!” Zoe looked victorious suddenly.

“Did what?”

“Your eyes sparkled when you talked about him. I was right. You're in love.”

“Zoe Madison, stop behaving like a nut.”

“You'll see. I'm right. Maybe you don't even know it yet. But you are.”

“I have known him for thirty-nine years. It's a little late to fall for him now.”

“It's never too late. Maybe he'll leave his wife.”

“Maybe you should stop getting crazy ideas, and relax.”

And with that, Alex walked downstairs and stuck his head in, with a disgruntled look. “Haven't you started dinner yet, Faith? I'm starving. It's nearly seven o'clock.”

“I'm sorry, Alex. I'll start right now. I'll do something quick.” He nodded and disappeared to his own study and closed the door, as Zoe glared at her mother. She hated the way he talked to her.

“Why don't you tell him to get a slave?”

“Zoe!”

“Why doesn't he cook dinner, or take you out? He could take you somewhere.”

“He works hard. He's tired. He was gone all week. He was in the office all day today.”

“And you did the tree. You cleaned up my room, thank you, by the way. You made me breakfast, you're cooking him dinner. You don't exactly sit around eating bonbons and watching TV.” Faith laughed at the image, and Zoe followed her into the kitchen with an irritated look.

“Are you eating here?” Faith asked as she checked the fridge. She had steaks for all of them.

“No, I'm going out. I think you should too.” Alex looked like he was in no mood to take her anywhere, and Faith didn't mind cooking for him. She'd been doing it for twenty-six years, and no matter how unfair Zoe thought that was, Faith had no problem with it. “Why doesn't he take you to the movies?” She was right, they hadn't been in months, and seldom went, not more than a few times a year. But Alex didn't like going to the movies, and he was tired most of the time when he came home.

“You're worrying too much. First you think I'm having an affair, then you think Dad doesn't take me out enough. Why don't you think about something else?” She was organizing dinner while she spoke.

“I think you should have an affair with Brad,” Zoe whispered to her, and then gave her a hug and went upstairs. Faith shook her head as she put the steaks under the grill, and smiled to herself, looking amused. Zoe was a great kid. And it was a totally insane idea.

11

THE WEEKEND FLEW PAST WITH ZOE AND HER FRIENDS flitting in and out of the house. Faith cooked meals for them, paid for pizzas and cabs, changed beds and washed towels, helped pick out clothes and French-braided hair, and waited up at night for her to come home. She was relieved when Zoe took a train to the party in Connecticut, instead of driving, and that night Zoe came home at three A.M.

Faith felt as though she were running interference, because in the chaos and the noise and the mess, Alex got increasingly nervous, and he and Zoe were constantly at each other's throats. He hated her music and her language, the boys who dropped by, the mess they all left, and the way her friends dressed. He thought they looked like homeless people, and the music they listened to was obscene, which in fact, some of it was. But Faith was used to it, and tolerant of all the fashions and foibles of eighteen-year-olds. More than once during the Christmas vacation, Zoe declared her mother “extremely cool.”

Ellie called from Saint Moritz on Monday night, and Zoe was out, but Faith was relieved to know that all was well. She was having a fabulous time skiing, had met lots of people, and she said that Geoffrey's family was being extremely nice to her. She sounded happy, but much to Faith's relief, not madly in love. Listening to her talk about everything she was doing, Faith decided that maybe Alex had been right, and it had been worth making the sacrifice of letting her stay over there. She was having an exceptionally good time, more so than she would have had in New York.

“You were right,” Faith said to him graciously that night over dinner. “She's having a ball.”

“I usually am right,” he said without hesitation. “I'm right about your going to school too. It's going to be a colossal mistake.” Faith didn't want to discuss it with him. She didn't want to have a fight with him, but he didn't back off as he looked at her. “Have you come to your senses about that yet, Faith?” She didn't know why he'd brought it up now, but it made her feel anxious. She was taking the LSAT in a little over a week, and still felt guilty, concealing it from him.

“No, Alex, I haven't. I'm starting in three weeks.” She had paid the tuition out of her own money. Her mother left her a little when she died the year before. All of Jack's had gone to his widow, and he'd left his insurance money to her as well. She had taken it all with her when she'd disappeared. She'd left a box of his favorite possessions for Faith, and taken the rest.

“You'll regret it,” Alex continued, as Faith tried valiantly to change the subject, and failed. “You may even flunk the first term.”

“I really don't want to discuss this with you,” she said bluntly, finally, and he stopped talking to her for the rest of the meal. And afterward, he went upstairs to read. She was discouraged about it while she did the dishes, and after she finished clearing up, she sent Brad an e-mail.

“For heaven's sake,” he said when he answered only minutes later, as usual he was at his desk, when the signal came that he had mail. “What is he talking about? You had better grades in school than Jack and I did. You graduated Barnard magna cum laude. Doesn't he know who you are? I flunked the bar the first time I tried to pass it. I'll lay you odds you pass it the first time. Why doesn't he get off your back? Just tell him to fuck off the next time he says it,” Brad said, sounding irritated. “I believe in you, Fred. Now you believe in you too. Love, Brad.”

“I guess he's still mad about my going back to school,” Faith replied. “I was hoping he'd be over that by now.” It reminded her of all the things Zoe had said. She hadn't told Brad that Zoe had accused her of being in love with him, and thought she should be, if she wasn't yet. She wasn't sure he'd have been amused. And it was as far from the truth as you could get. She loved him as a friend, just as he loved her. But it was hard for a girl Zoe's age to understand. The beauties of platonic friendship. At her age, it was all about sex.

“I'm tired of Alex picking on you,” Brad said when he responded again. “How can you live with that without getting worn down?”

“I'm used to it. He doesn't mean it. That's just the way he is,” she defended Alex in her next e-mail.

But at Brad's end, things weren't all smooth sailing these days either. The holidays seemed to bring out the worst in everyone. Particularly Pam. She was going from one party to another, and she wanted Brad to go with her, and he was too busy in the office, nor did he care about the social events she loved. He had long since told her that he'd prefer she went with one of her friends. But at certain times of year, she insisted that he go with her. Particularly during the opening of the social season in September, and at Christmas. Pam was going to cocktails and dinners and dances, benefits and openings and holiday parties. He couldn't begin to keep her social calendar straight, nor did he want to. He was doing things that were far more important to him. He had a short trial the week before Christmas, which ruled out everything else for him. But it created enormous tension between them. Pam was not amused.

“For God's sake, can't you get your paralegals to do the prep work? Do you have to do everything yourself?” He had just told her he couldn't go out again that night. He had been in the office till two A.M. the night before—it was an escape for him—one he loved.

“I can't leave this kind of work in the hands of someone else, Pam, and you know that.”

“Why not? I do. I go to court too. My paralegals and my assistant do half the work.”

“You're not trying to get kids off from murder charges. There's a difference. There are lives in the balance here.”

“As a matter of fact, you're right, Brad. Ours. I'm sick and tired of your never being around.” She was fuming, as she paced in front of him in a blue sequined evening gown. She looked stately and beautiful, and the look in her eyes would have terrified most men, but not Brad. He was used to her, and her tantrums. They no longer impressed him as they once had. Although they were fearsome to watch at times.

“I thought we came to an understanding about this years ago,” he said, looking exasperated.

“You said you'd come to at least some of the events, if they were important to me.”

“But not when I'm preparing a trial. I can't. Simple as that.” He refused to be intimidated by her. She had been doing it, or trying to, for a long time.

“Why the hell not? What about your little bleeding-heart girlfriend? Doesn't she expect you to go out with her once in a while?” Brad was shocked by what she'd just said, and narrowed his eyes at her.

“What was that? What are you talking about?” He looked mystified.

“I saw one of your e-mails to her the other day, about what a gentle soul she is, and something about going to church with her. Since when have you been religious? What is she? A nun?”

“More important, what are you, Pam? What are you doing snooping through my computer? That's a pretty lousy thing to do.”

“You left it open while you were out in the garage. So what's that about?”

“She's an old friend from my childhood. Her brother was my best friend. Jack. This is his sister, Faith. And we're friends. Nothing more than that. I don't owe you any apologies or explanations. I had dinner with her in New York, and yes, I went to church with her.”

“How pathetic. Are you sleeping with her?” Pam spat at him. They hadn't made love in years, and scenes like this were why, as far as Brad was concerned. And he was certain that Pam had cheated on him several times over the years. He was smart enough not to ask, and he no longer cared.

“No, I'm not sleeping with her, if it's any of your business. I don't ask about your life.” They had stopped sleeping with each other by tacit agreement. He just wasn't in love with her anymore. It was like making love to a machine. Pam was all about ambition and drive. After a while, Brad felt as though he were making love to a computer, or his desk. He just couldn't anymore. He preferred to be celibate than to make love to her, although she was convinced that he had affairs. As sexual as he had been with her in the beginning, it was inconceivable to her that he hadn't had sex for years. It was one of those sacrifices he had made, that he and Faith had talked about, although he hadn't explained that aspect of his life to her, and didn't intend to. It wasn't appropriate information to exchange.

But Pam looked shocked by what he had just said. Something in his eyes made her stop and stare. “Are you in love with her?”

“Of course not. She's a friend. Nothing more. I've known her since she was a little kid.”

“If you're not sleeping with her, and you went to church with her, then I'll bet my ass you're in love with her, Brad.”

“Does it have to be one or the other? Can't we just be friends? And that doesn't explain what you were doing in my computer. I don't go through yours.”

“I'm sorry. I just happened to see it. Your letter was on the screen.” He wondered if he had said anything unpleasant about her, though he suspected not since Pam hadn't commented on that. “She must be somewhat pathetic if she spends her life in church.”

“What she does is none of your goddamn business. Now, let's get back to the point here. I have to work. I'm not going out. And frankly, after all this bullshit, I wouldn't go anywhere with you anyway. So find yourself some other poor slob to push around. You know plenty of guys. Find one who wants to take you to parties every night. I don't.” And with that, he slammed out of the room, and went back to his study. He had come home to get something to eat and pick up a file. He sat down at his desk for a few minutes and found that he was shaking. He felt violated by Pam reading his e-mails, and talking about Faith the way she had. Faith had nothing to do with her, and he had done nothing wrong. He was outraged that Pam would accuse him of sleeping with Faith or even suggest that he was in love with her. It was nothing of the sort, for either of them. They had enjoyed the sacred bond of friendship for nearly forty years. Something that Pam knew nothing about. There was nothing sacred to her.

He stormed back to the office half an hour later, with a severe case of indigestion and a headache. No one on the planet could make him angrier than Pam. She had a knack for driving him out of his mind. She was stubborn and unreasonable and aggressive. And if he let her, she could argue with him for hours. He was still upset when he got back to his office, and finally decided to call Faith and see if she was home.

As it so happened, Alex was out at a business dinner, and she was home alone. She was pleased and surprised to hear him, and he calmed down almost instantly the minute he heard her voice.

“I'm sorry to bother you,” he apologized, and she could hear that he was stressed.

“Are you okay?” She sounded worried about him, and he smiled. She was everything Pam wasn't. She was gentle, sensitive, cautious, thoughtful, generous of spirit, and nurturing in every possible way.

“I'm just tired. And grumpy,” he explained. “I've had a bad day. How was yours?” He felt guilty for burdening her, particularly about Pam. But it was nice having her shoulder to cry on. He hadn't had that kind of support and comfort in years, if ever. And for the past two months, she had been there for him unfailingly.

“It was fine. Alex and Zoe are out, though not together. And I was actually enjoying a quiet evening at home. I'm running the Motel 6 here. I just keep washing towels and changing beds, and blowing out candles, hoping the house doesn't burn down. But it's nice to have her home. Tell me about your bad day. What was that about?”

“I lost a motion at a hearing this morning, and I really needed it to get a continuance on a trial. I'm not ready, and I need to round up more witnesses, or this kid is going to get screwed. My secretary is out sick, which is driving me crazy. And I went home for an hour, to have some dinner, and had a fight with Pam. No big deal. Just a lot of little shit.”

“What was the fight about?” Faith always listened to him, and she did it well.

“She wants me to go to ten thousand goddamn parties. She goes to two or three a night, and I just don't have the time or the desire to play prince consort. She knows I hate that stuff, and once we get there, she disappears anyway. My only purpose is for her to make an entrance. I don't have time for that bullshit, Faith. I'm constantly in trial, or preparing one. And these kids need me to do it right.”

“Did she back down?” Faith asked calmly, and he took a breath and slowed down. He had gotten all wound up, telling her about the argument with Pam.

“Eventually,” he said, and then he got annoyed again. He had been debating about telling Faith, and saw no reason why not. He had nothing to hide. “She read one of my e-mails the other day, which really makes me mad.”

“I don't blame you.” Faith hated that kind of intrusion too. She was a very private person and didn't even like her kids reading her e-mails, particularly from Brad.

“Apparently, it was one of the ones to you. I think it was thanking you for the time you spent with me in New York. There was nothing particularly inappropriate about it, it just annoyed the hell out of me.” And then he laughed, “And she said I was in love with you. She's a little off the mark.”

Faith smiled as he said it. “Zoe said the same thing to me the other day. Or at least she asked me. She wanted to know if we were having an affair.”

“What did you say?”

“That we weren't. She was very disappointed, and said she thought we should. She said I deserve it, and so does Alex, after the way he treats me. I thought that was an interesting statement coming from her.”

“She's right. He doesn't do a damn thing for you, Faith. He never seems to take you to dinner or a movie.

It sounds like all he does is work, and sleep and complain … like me,” he suddenly laughed at the portrait he'd painted. “I guess Pam should be having one too, except in her case, she probably is.”

“Are you serious?” Faith sounded horrified. He hadn't told her they no longer slept with each other. There were some things he didn't say, even to Faith.

“I don't ask. I figure it's none of my business anymore.” It was all he wanted to say on the subject, but she understood what he was saying, and was surprised. He didn't look like the sort to give that up, but one never knew what happened behind other people's closed doors. “In any case, what I do is none of her business. And I don't want her casting aspersions on you.” He felt protective of Faith, and didn't tell her about Pam's comment about their going to church. He knew it would have offended her, and he was right. “I'm sorry to call and complain, Fred. As I said, I'm just tired. And she made me mad as hell.” It was nice having someone to vent with, and they talked for a while, before he went back to his preparations for the trial. And she was happy to have talked to him, so he could let off steam. As always, they both felt better when they hung up. She went upstairs to take a bath and get ready for bed. And he sat at his desk for a few minutes, staring into space and thinking of her.

It struck him odd that Pam had accused him of sleeping with her, and Zoe had asked her mother the same thing. Odder still that they had each suggested they were in love with each other. As he had said to Pam, it wasn't even an option, for either of them. All they had ever been was friends, since the beginning. And the fact that he enjoyed her company now didn't change anything. She was the same person in his life now that she had been as a little girl, when he was helping her climb trees, and painting her braids green. Or was she? It suddenly made him think of how much she meant to him, and how he had come to depend on her in the past two months. And as he thought of it, he got a vision of her skating next to him at Rockefeller Center, and lighting a candle at the altar of Saint Jude in St. Patrick's Cathedral… he had never seen a more beautiful face in his life. She was luminous as she stood there praying. And suddenly he wondered if Pam was right… and if she wasn't, perhaps she should be. And then with a tired smile, he shook his head. He was imagining things. He wasn't in love with her. No matter how beautiful she had been as a child, or was now, she was his friend, nothing more.

And in New York, Faith was thinking the same thing as she sat in the bathtub, asking herself the same questions. And she came to the same conclusion as Brad. They were being foolish, both Pam and Zoe. She and Brad weren't in love with each other, Faith reassured herself. They were friends, more than that, they were like brother and sister. It was all they wanted, all they needed from each other. Just friendship. Besides, if it had been more than that, it would have spoiled everything. And Faith wanted to avoid that at all costs.

12

THE MORNING AFTER BRAD'S ARGUMENT WITH PAM, HE was on his way to work. He drove past St. Mary's Cathedral on Gough, and had a sudden idea. He had an appointment at nine o'clock and didn't have time to stop, so he gave his secretary a note when he got to the office, and she promised to get the information for him. She slipped him a piece of paper with an address an hour later, when he was on the phone talking to the district attorney's office, and he signaled thanks and nodded his head. He went out to do the errand at eleven o'clock. It took him longer than he thought, but he was back by one.

He wrote Faith a note, and had a small box on his desk, and asked his secretary to Federal Express it to New York. At least he had one gift done. All he had to do now was go to Tiffany and take care of the rest, and he was planning to do that the following afternoon.

Faith and her family's plans for Christmas were very traditional. They were having an informal dinner together on Christmas Eve. Faith usually went to midnight mass by herself, or with Zoe, if she could talk her into it, and they had a more formal dinner the next day, on Christmas night. They opened presents on Christmas morning, and spent the day hanging around the house. The day had been more exciting when the girls were young, but it was still a day that was important to all of them.

They talked to Ellie in Switzerland on the morning of Christmas Eve. It was dinnertime for her, and she sounded emotional when she heard them all on the phone. It was her first time spending Christmas away from them, and it was harder than she'd thought it would be, although everyone in Saint Moritz had been wonderful to her.

“We miss you, sweetheart,” Faith said when it was her turn to talk to her.

“Why don't you come to London after New Year's, Mom?” Eloise asked, sounding very young, and homesick for her family.

“I can't, sweetheart. I'm starting school. I'll have to wait now till I get a break. Or maybe you can come home for a long weekend.”

“I didn't know you'd actually decided to go.” She sounded disappointed, which confirmed Alex's objections to her plans, that it would interfere with him and their family. There had been no time to tell her since she'd signed up. Their last conversation had been all about her going to Switzerland with Geoff and his family for the holidays, and Faith had forgotten about her own news.

“I start classes in two weeks,” Faith said, expecting to be congratulated, but Ellie sounded upset.

“That's such a mean thing to do to Dad.” She sounded disapproving, and Faith was hurt by what she said. And it was hard to talk about it with Alex standing next to her. She knew Zoe would be upset by her sister's reaction too. It wasn't very generous to Faith.

“We talked about it, and I think he's made his peace with it,” Faith said calmly. She didn't want Christmas to be as disrupted by her plans as Thanksgiving had been, and she wanted to get off the subject as soon as she could. “More importantly, how are you, sweetheart? Are you having fun?”

“I miss you all so much. It's nice, but I'm homesick for all of you. More than I thought I would be. We're going to a big party tonight, and we're going tobogganing afterward. It's kind of scary, but it looks like fun.”

“Be careful,” her mother warned. “Don't do anything silly!” She worried about her, almost as much as she had when she was a child. No matter how old the girls were, it was still her job. She passed the phone on to Zoe then, and the two sisters talked for a long time. Faith was relieved that they seemed to have made peace. And Zoe had said that she missed her several times. Alex was the last to talk to her, and he had very little to say, but it was obvious from the tone of his voice and his choice of words how close he felt to her. It was a bittersweet moment for all of them when he finally hung up.

“It's so weird not having her here,” Zoe said, looking sad. And then she turned to her mother. “Can I go to London to visit her the next time I have a break?”

“That would be wonderful,” Faith smiled at her younger daughter, “and if I have a break then, I'll come with you. Otherwise, you can go alone, and I'll go when I can.”

“It's ridiculous for you to be bound by ‘breaks,’ Faith. You should be able to visit your daughter whenever you want. That's exactly what I meant,” Alex said, and then walked off. And Faith said nothing in response. She just hoped she could juggle all the balls she needed to, to make her home life and her school schedule work. It was going to be a challenge for her.

The three of them had dinner together that night, as planned. Faith cooked duck for them, with a recipe she'd gotten from a friend. It was a delicious meal, and afterward Zoe went out. Alex lingered at the table for a while, and made an attempt to talk to her, but neither of them had much to say. The lines of communication had been down between them for so long that it was hard to reestablish them on command.

“Are you going to church tonight?” Alex asked offhandedly, as Faith put out the candles and started putting things away.

“I thought I'd go to midnight mass,” just as she always did. “Would you like to come?” He never did, but she always offered it to him. Zoe had said she would meet her at the church if she could. And Faith didn't press the point with her. She was going to St. Ignatius on Park Avenue.

“No, thanks,” Alex declined her offer, and went upstairs to read. Even on Christmas Eve, there was very little spark between them these days.

Faith was puttering around her study at eleven o'clock, getting ready to leave for church, when the phone rang, and she was surprised to hear Brad. It was eight o'clock for him.

“Merry Christmas, Fred.” He sounded friendly and warm, but she thought a little sad too. It was a hard time for everyone, a time to remember what you once had, hoped you would, and all your lost dreams.

“Thanks, Brad. The same to you.”

“Did you get my present?” They hadn't talked in several days, and their e-mails had been short and quick. It was a busy time for both of them.

“I did,” she smiled. It was a small box wrapped in Christmas wrap, and it was sitting on her desk. It had come in a Federal Express envelope, and she'd been saving it for Christmas Day. She had sent him a set of antique leather legal books that were beautifully bound. “It's sitting right here. I'm saving it till tomorrow.”

“That's why I called,” he sounded pleased. “I wanted to be sure you opened it tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Why don't you open it now?” He sounded excited and she laughed in anticipation.

“I love presents. This is fun. Did you get mine?” she asked as she took the paper off carefully and sat looking at the small flat white box. She couldn't imagine what was inside. Nothing about it gave the contents away.

“I'm saving it for tomorrow too. But I wanted you to have yours tonight. Go ahead, open it, Fred.” She carefully lifted the lid on the box, and gave a short gasp at what she saw. They were beautiful antique rosary beads he had gotten in a religious store. The Hail Marys were beautiful old citrines, and the Our Fathers and the crucifix at the end of them were cabochon emeralds, and there were tiny rubies on the tips of the cross. They looked as though they had been handled and loved for a long time. She had never seen any as beautiful, and he had been pleased with what he'd found, and hoped they would mean a lot to her.

“The woman said they're Italian, and they're about a hundred years old. She said they'd been blessed. I wanted you to have them for church tonight, Fred,” he said in a soft voice, and there were tears in her eyes. It took her a long time to say anything. “Fred? … Fred? … Are you there?”

“I don't know what to say. They're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Thank you with all my heart. I'm going to use them tonight. I'll say a rosary for you,” she smiled. There was a wonderful old-fashioned quality to her, in spite of the way she looked. She had solid values, and a passion for her family, a deep respect for her church. She had grown up to be even better than he ever thought she would. “I'll light a candle for you too. And for Jack.”

“Maybe I'll light one for you.”

“Are you going to church?” She sounded surprised. She didn't think he did.

“I thought I might. I've got nothing else to do. We're having dinner with a few friends in a little while, and Pam's father is here. But by eleven o'clock, we'll be all through. I thought it would be nice to go.” He was thinking of going to St. Dominic's, a beautiful old Gothic church, with a shrine to Saint Jude, which he knew was her favorite saint. He had asked the woman in the religious store about where to go, when he bought the rosary for Faith. “There's a church nearby with a shrine to Saint Jude. If I go, I'll light a candle for you there.”

“I can't believe you sent me these,” she said, looking at the rosary again. It had a wonderful smooth feel in her hand, and all the settings were yellow gold. There was a little satin pouch to put it in, to protect it in her purse. She had never seen one as beautiful in her life. “I guess my old wooden ones can be retired,” she said. It was a gift that meant the world to her.

They talked for a few minutes. All he'd been able to do was leave a message for the boys. There was no direct line to the game preserve where they lived. And they obviously hadn't been able to get a line at the post office, because they hadn't called home. It made the holiday even harder for him, not to mention the tension that existed between him and Pam. He felt like a stranger in his own house these days. As always, she had invited people to dinner whom he didn't know well, and her father had a way of monopolizing the conversation and making it all about him.

“I'm glad you're not working tonight,” Faith said, holding the rosary beads in her hand. It made her feel closer to him.

“I figured I'd better stick around and make some points, before I start an all-out war.” There was no purpose in doing that, and Faith agreed. And she knew that the next day they were having a huge dinner, in black tie again. “I think Pam must have been married to a concert musician in another life, a conductor maybe, she always wants everyone in black tie, if not white. It's not exactly my cup of tea.” He was happiest in old cords and jeans with turtleneck sweaters and hiking boots, although he looked handsome in a suit too, as she'd seen in New York. “I'll think about you tonight when you're at church.”

“I'll have your beautiful rosary in my hand the whole time, and I'll be thinking of you.” There was a warm bond between them that scarcely needed words.

She glanced at her watch a few minutes later, and told him she had to leave for church, or she wouldn't get a seat. The midnight mass was popular, and the church was usually filled. And she knew Brad had to join his family and guests for dinner anyway.

“Thank you again for the beautiful gift. It's going to be my very best one.”

“Merry Christmas, Fred … I'm glad you like it… thank you for everything you've given me in the past two months. You've been the best gift of all.”

“You too,” she said softly, and a moment later, they hung up. She went to say good-bye to Alex, but he was asleep in a chair, with a book. And a few minutes later, she walked out the front door, wearing her big red coat, and hailed a cab.

And in San Francisco, Brad made an effort to talk to everyone in the room. He was wearing a blazer and slacks, as was his father-in-law. Christmas Eve was always informal at their house, although all the men wore ties. And Pam was wearing red silk pajamas, and high-heeled gold sandals. She looked festive and beautiful and statuesque. She was a handsome woman, but every time Brad looked at her he saw who she had become. She was tougher and harder and stronger than he would ever have dreamed. He had bought her a narrow gold and diamond necklace with a matching bracelet and ring, and he knew it was the kind of thing she would wear a lot. But he was far more excited about the rosary beads he had sent Faith. They had more meaning to him. And to her.

They were seated at the table in the dining room by the time the mass started in New York. They were having a traditional English meal, with roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, and plum pudding and hard sauce for dessert. But he was distracted as they started eating, and his father-in-law toasted everyone with Napa Valley wine. All he could think of was Faith on her knees in church, as she had been at St. Patrick's when she'd gone with him.

“You seem a little out of it tonight,” Pam said when they finally got up. “Are you okay?”

“Just thinking about a case,” he said, looking vague, and she met his eyes.

“Or your friend in New York?” She knew him better than he thought. “Did you send her an e-mail tonight?” she queried. She looked like a huntress going after her prey, and he shook his head. He hadn't e-mailed her, he had called her instead.

“Don't make more of that than it is, Pam. It is what it is. She's an old friend.”

“I know you better than that. You're a hopeless romantic, Brad. That's just the sort of thing you'd fall head over heels into, especially if it's a hopeless case.”

“Don't be silly.” He tried to brush her off, but what she said sounded right. He had been a hopeless romantic years before, when he met Pam. But she had stamped it out of him long since, or so he thought. He didn't believe what she was saying about his feelings for Faith. He was smarter than that. And Pam was just being territorial and defending her turf. She wanted to make it clear that she still owned him, whether she wanted him or not, or he her.

Their guests all left around eleven o'clock, and Pam's father had a car and driver pick him up. He didn't like to drive at night anymore. And as Pam and Brad walked upstairs, Brad looked at his watch.

“Do you have a hot date?” she teased. She was on his case a lot these days, although he had noticed her flirting with several men that night. She didn't hesitate to do that in front of him, or even kiss them on the mouth. She did whatever she liked, no matter what she said to him about Faith.

“Actually,” he said casually, “I was thinking of going to church.”

“Oh my God. You don't have a mistress. You've lost your mind. Why on earth would you do that?”

“I think it's a nice thing,” he said calmly, trying not to be annoyed by what she said.

“If you get religious on me, Brad, I want a divorce. Another woman, I can handle. A religious freak, I can't. That would really be too much.” He had to smile to himself, wondering what she would think if she knew he had sent rosary beads to Faith. That was about as religious as it got, but he had known how meaningful it would be to her, and was thrilled it had been.

“It's a nice tradition, and I miss the boys,” he said honestly. It had been a lonely holiday for him. They were the only allies he normally had in his own house.

The dinner with her father and friends had been painful for him, but he had been a good sport. He always was.

“I miss them too, but I'm not running to church. There must be other ways to deal with it,” she said, as she kicked off her shoes, and dropped her earrings on her dressing table.

“To each his own, I guess,” he said, left their bedroom, and walked downstairs. He didn't need her approval to go to church. “I'll be back in an hour,” he called up to her as he put on his coat, and she came out of their bedroom barefoot and half dressed with a grin.

“Give me a little warning if you're planning to become a priest.”

“Don't worry, I will.” He smiled up at her. “No danger yet. It's just mass on Christmas Eve. I think I'm safe. Merry Christmas, by the way.” He stood looking up at her for a long moment, feeling sad, wishing he still felt more for her, but he hadn't in a long time, and neither had she.

“Thanks, Brad. You too,” she said, and disappeared.

He took his Jeep out of the garage, and drove to St. Dominic's at Steiner and Bush. It was a large beautiful old Gothic church, and as he walked up the steps, he could see a cluster of tall pine trees on either side of the main altar, banks of poinsettias, and the church was mostly candle-lit. The shrine to Saint Jude was off to the right, and there were rows of candles there as well. He decided to go there first, and he lit candles for Faith and Jack, and he knelt for a moment, thinking of her, and his old friend. He didn't know what prayers he should say or even how, all he did was think of them, and wish them well. And he was grateful that some unseen force had brought Faith back into his life.

He took a seat in a pew toward the rear of the church, and was impressed by the beauty and pomp and ceremony of the midnight mass. And when they sang “Silent Night” toward the end, there were tears rolling slowly down his cheeks. He wasn't sure why, or whom they were for, or even what he was crying about. All he knew was that he was deeply moved. And when he went home that night, he felt lighter than he had in years. It was an odd sense of peace and joy and ease. He smiled as he drove home, and for an odd moment, he felt as though Jack were riding in the car with him.

13

ON CHRISTMAS MORNING, FAITH AND ZOE AND ALEX exchanged their gifts. Zoe had bought her mother a terrific leather backpack to use at school, and a long wool scarf so she'd look like one of the kids. And Alex had bought Faith a pretty gold bracelet at Cartier. She had given him a new suit, and some shirts and ties. And she'd given Zoe tiny diamond studs for her ears. All their gifts to each other were a great success. And their Christmas dinner was peaceful and uneventful, although they all admitted they missed Eloise. Faith had cooked a turkey, with her famous stuffing that they all loved, but somehow three at the dining table seemed a little sparse. They tried to call Eloise, but she was out when they called, and by the end of the day, Faith was feeling a little sad. She didn't like the idea that her family was shrinking, even for a year, although Ellie had promised that she'd be home for the holidays next year. And Brad called her right after they finished dinner, to thank her for her handsome gift. She answered the phone in the kitchen, while she was cleaning up. Alex and Zoe were sitting in the living room, drinking coffee, and talking, and admiring the tree. It was a rare civilized moment between them and Faith was relieved. She thought it might be Eloise when she answered the phone, and was surprised to hear Brad.

“Thank you for my wonderful books. They're incredible. They're going to be the best-looking thing in my office, Fred. Thank you so much.” He had been very proud of them when he unwrapped them, and very touched. And he had been careful to open them when he was by himself, to avoid unnecessary comment from Pam.

“They're not as beautiful as my rosary beads,” she said happily. It had been hard to find the right gift for him. She didn't want to give him anything too personal, and everything else she'd looked at seemed wrong. The books seemed to strike the right note between them. They were special and valuable, but not too intimate, almost like a symbol of what existed between them, although she had known him long enough to be outrageous if she chose, but she thought she had better not.

“I went to church last night,” he volunteered. “At St. Dominic's, and I lit candles for you and Jack at the altar of Saint Jude. He's your guy, right?”

“He's my guy,” she smiled. “That's really nice. Who'd you go with?” He had told her Pam was an atheist, and she couldn't imagine that she had gone too.

“I went by myself. What about you?” But in truth, he felt as though he had gone with her and Jack. He had felt their presence with him during the entire mass.

“Zoe met me at church. It was nice, just the two of us. We walked home afterward, and it started to snow. The perfect Christmas Eve.”

“How was Christmas dinner?”

“It was okay. It's kind of small with just the three of us. I'll be happier when Ellie's home next year. What about you?”

“The entire state of California is coming to dinner in black tie in two hours. I can hardly wait. It's so intimate and meaningful. Really kind of touches your heart to see a hundred near-strangers stampeding through your living room, shoving hors d'oeuvres down their throats and guzzling champagne. It really reminds you of the true meaning of Christmas. It's a shame you're not here.” She laughed at the description, and couldn't even begin to imagine it. As quiet as their Christmas had been, his seemed even worse. “Pam has a real knack for creating intimate gatherings that make people feel special for being here,” he teased, wishing he could be there with her, although that certainly would have been awkward and hard to explain, even to her.

“Maybe you can just give in to it, and have some fun, and not expect it to be anything more than it is,” she suggested, trying to be helpful.

“That's kind of what I do. That, and a lot of white wine. These gatherings are a little tough to stomach if you don't drink.” She had noticed he drank very little when they had dinner, so she could hardly imagine him getting drunk, even in self-defense. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Going to bed.”

“Lucky you. I'll call you tomorrow, or send you an e-mail.” He was going back to work the next day, and he was relieved that he was. He had had enough of the holidays, without the boys they meant nothing to him.

“Merry Christmas, Brad. Have a nice time tonight. You may be pleasantly surprised.”

“Maybe so,” he said, sounding vague, and thinking of her.

They hung up, and she cleaned up the kitchen, and as she was finishing Zoe came in, and asked for some money to go to the movies with her friends.

“Just take what you need out of my purse,” she said as she dried her hands, and hung up the apron she had worn over a black silk dress and a string of pearls. She had worn her blond hair in a French twist, and looked like a young Grace Kelly when she did. She pointed to the handbag she had left on one of the kitchen chairs the night before, when she came home from church. Zoe fished around for a minute, and then looked up at her.

“What are these?” She was holding the rosary beads from Brad. They had fallen out of the little satin pouch and were loose in her purse.

“They're rosary beads,” Faith said matter-of-factly She'd had them in her hands at mass the night before, but Zoe hadn't noticed them.

“I've never seen them before. Where'd you get them, Mom?” Zoe was curious. As though she had a sixth sense.

“They were a Christmas present from a friend.”

“A friend?” Zoe made a face, it sounded like an odd story to her, and then she understood. “Omigod, don't tell me that guy you grew up with sent you rosary beads, Mom?”

“It's not exactly a shocking gift. It seems pretty respectable to me.”

“Yeah, if the guy is in love with you. No one else would even know to send you something that would mean that much to you … and they look expensive too.”

“They're antiques, and you have a twisted mind. The poor guy tried to send me something religious and respectable, and eminently appropriate for Christmas, and you interpret it as a sign that he's in love with me. I love you, Zoe, but you're sick.” Faith smiled innocently at her.

“I am not. I'm right. You'll see. Actually, that's a pretty cool gift.” Zoe looked impressed.

“Yes, it is. But do you suppose that you could readjust your thinking to accept the idea that I'm married, I love your father, and no one else is in love with me? That might be a wholesome twist.”

“Maybe, but it's not true. This guy is crazy about you, Mom. Look at that, those are emeralds and rubies on that rosary, even if they are little ones. He must be a pretty cool guy.”

“He is, and a good friend. I hope you meet him again one day.”

“Me too.” She put the rosary beads back in her mother's bag, and helped herself to twenty dollars, for the movies with her friends.

“I'll cash a check tomorrow and give you some money. And by the way,” she came over to give her daughter a hug, “I love my backpack and scarf. I'm going to be the coolest kid in school.”

“Yes, you are, Mom. And all the boys are going to fall in love with you.”

Faith rolled her eyes. “You're obsessed.” The whole concept of Brad falling in love with her seemed silly to Faith. And offensive in a way. It disregarded the gift of his friendship and made it seem less than it was, and it was very important to her. She had no sense that he was in love with her, nor she with him. They were just very, very good friends, whether Zoe believed that or not.

Zoe went out a few minutes later, and Faith went to sit with Alex next to the tree. He was sipping a glass of port, and relaxing, lost in his own thoughts.

“Thank you for the nice dinner,” he said to Faith generously.

“Thank you for a beautiful bracelet,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek, but as always, he didn't respond. As far as Alex was concerned, displays of affection belonged in bed, at their appointed hour, and nowhere else. Anywhere else, they embarrassed him. And they no longer happened in bed very often either anymore.

“I'm glad you like it,” he looked pleased. “I love my suits, and shirts, and ties. You have terrific taste. You always pick out better things than I could pick out for myself.” It was a nice compliment, and they had a nice time sitting by the fire. He said he had had a nice chat with Zoe before she went out, which they both knew was rare.

Alex and Faith spent a surprisingly pleasant evening together, and they went upstairs after a while. It hadn't been an exciting Christmas for any of them, but it had been a pleasant day. They watched television for a while, and Alex had been thinking of making love to her, but he fell asleep in front of the TV, and she smiled at him. They had such an odd life. They weren't old, either of them, but they led a life of old people. Sometimes she felt now as though her whole life lay behind her, and not ahead.

It was the same feeling Brad had when he went to bed that night. It had been an exhausting evening for him, playing host to a hundred people he didn't give a damn about, and playing consort to Pam, in her endless social ambitions and endeavors. He couldn't even begin to imagine spending the rest of his life doing it, and yet he knew he would. It was what he had signed on for twenty-five years before, and where, whatever it cost him, he was going to stay. But living it was harder and more depressing than he had ever dreamed.

14

FAITH TOOK THE DREADED LSAT IN THE WEEK BETWEEN Christmas and New Year's. It was as hard as she had feared, and she had no idea how she'd done. In the pit of her stomach, she was afraid that she had done miserably, and Brad tried to reassure her when she called him afterward. He was the only person in her life who knew she had taken it. She didn't even tell Zoe where she'd gone. But at least it was behind her now. Another hurdle crossed. And all she could do now was hope she'd gotten a decent score.

Zoe left for Brown on New Year's Day. She was starting school the next day, and she hated to leave. She had had fun with her friends over the holidays, and she always hated leaving her mother, although Faith had reason to be excited herself. She was starting school the next day.

Alex was painfully silent at dinner after Zoe left, and Faith knew why. He was still annoyed with her for going back to school. Zoe had made a big fuss over her before she left, and Faith had her backpack and her school supplies ready for the next day. They were in her study, all ready and waiting on a chair. She went downstairs to check everything again before she went to bed. She hadn't been this excited since she was a little girl.

She'd had an e-mail from Brad that day, wishing her good luck and telling her how brilliantly she was going to do. She wasn't sure of that, but she was really excited to be going back to school. She knew it would be hard, but she was finally doing what she wanted to do.

She was up at dawn the next day, and dressed by eight o'clock, when she made breakfast for Alex. He left at eight-thirty, as he always did, and he said not a word to her. He wanted to be sure she knew he still disapproved. It was hardly a secret to her, or to anyone in the house. He simply glowered at her, and closed the front door.

She made herself another cup of coffee, and kept looking at the clock. She was going to leave at nine, and take a cab downtown. She didn't have to sign in until nine-thirty And she was just picking up her backpack, and getting ready to leave, when her laptop came alive and told her she had mail. She clicked it twice, and was surprised to see it was from Brad. It wasn't even six A.M. for him.

“Play nice in the sandbox, and have a great day! Be a good girl, and call me when you get home. Love, Brad.” It was sweet of him. She hit the reply button quickly, and set down her backpack again to answer him.

“Thank you. You're up very early! Not just for me, I hope! I'll call you…. Pray that the other kids aren't mean to me. I'm scared. But excited too. Have a nice day. Love, Fred.” It was Zoe who had always been scared that the kids would be mean to her at school, and they never were. Faith was more afraid that she wouldn't do well in the classes she was taking. It had been a long time since she'd been at school.

She hurried out of the house then, and took a cab to NYU. It was confusing when she arrived, but she had a sheaf of papers telling her what to do, and where to go. They were remarkably clear and accurate, and she found her first classroom with surprising ease. And the class was even better than she thought. It was called “The Judicial Process.” It was fascinating, and the professor was interesting and challenging. She was exhilarated by the time they stopped for lunch, and she had another class that afternoon on constitutional law. She was going to school two days a week. She knew it would help her for law school in the fall, and the first one seemed like a terrific class to her.

She was exhausted when she finally headed home that afternoon, but it was the most interesting day she'd had in years. The professor of her Judicial Process class was a woman, and about Faith's age. She would have loved to stop and chat with her, but she felt shy about it, and she knew she had to get home after her Constitutional Law class. It would be four o'clock by the time she got back to the house, and she couldn't dally at school.

She set her backpack down as she came in the front door, and was already thinking of the assignments they'd been given. They were both challenging and would take time. The phone started to ring almost as soon as she walked in. She was still wearing her coat. It was Zoe.

“How was it? Do you like it, Mom?”

“I love it! It's even better than I thought.” She was happy and excited, and Zoe was irrepressibly proud of her. They talked for half an hour, and finally Faith said she had to go. She still had to organize dinner for Alex, and she wasn't sure what she had in the house. But as soon as she hung up, the phone rang again. This time, it was Brad.

“I can't stand the suspense, did you like it?” was his opening line, and she smiled.

“I loved it. I have great professors, it seems like the people in my classes are intelligent. The time flew by, and the homework is terrifying, but I think I can handle it.” She let out a little squeak of excitement and he grinned. “I really love it! I just got home.”

“You're going to do great!” he said, thrilled for her. It was exactly what he had hoped for for her.

“Thank you for your e-mail this morning.” He didn't tell her he had set his alarm at five-thirty so he could send her off in style. “I was scared to death.”

“I figured you were. That's why I didn't call. I didn't want to give you an opportunity to fall apart, so I sent the e-mail.”

“That was smart.”

“I'm so pleased for you. Is the homework tough?”

“Sounds like it, but I think I can handle it, as long as I don't get buried in outside stuff, like dinners I have to do for Alex. That'll be hard.”

“Good thing you're not married to Pam.” They had had another huge bash on New Year's Eve. Faith and Alex had stayed home and watched TV, as they always did. And Brad said he envied them. “So what's next?”

“I work my ass off, and hopefully get into law school for the fall.” Alex was still having a fit over it, but she was slowly forging ahead, and feeling more confident after her first day of school. “I'm going to apply pretty soon.”

“Where?”

“Columbia, NYU, Fordham, New York Law School, and Brooklyn Law. I don't have a lot of geographical choice, it has to be in New York.”

“Too bad you can't come out here,” Brad said with a smile.

“Alex would be thrilled. He'd really love that. A wife who comes home from school for vacations. Although sometimes, I wonder if he'd notice if I were gone. Maybe I can hire a stand-in to do my job,” whatever that was these days, mostly it involved dinner, breakfast, the occasional dinner party, and as little conversation as possible, and once in a great, great while, making love. It was hardly a full-time job anymore.

“I would love to hire one to do mine,” Brad laughed. “He could do all the black-tie dinners, and opera and symphony openings. Boy, would I love that!” They both laughed, and Faith looked at her watch.

“I'd better get organized, or Alex will have a fit when he gets home. Whatever goes wrong from now on, will be because I'm in school. I have to be on extra-good behavior now. Perfect dinners, everything on time, dinner parties worthy of Julia Child and Martha Stewart, I can't screw up now.” She had been thinking of making him a special dinner that night, to prove that she could juggle it all, but she no longer had the time or the desire.

“That's a lot of pressure on you,” Brad said sympathetically. “Maybe you don't have to prove quite so much to him. It's not like you've done something really terrible,” he said pointedly.

“In his eyes, I did. I'll send you an e-mail later. I've got to figure out what I'm doing for dinner. And then I have to do my homework.”

“You're a good kid,” he smiled.

“You too. Thanks, Brad.” She hung up hastily, checked the fridge, and decided to run out and buy something Alex really liked.

By the time he got home, she had stuffed sole in the oven, she was making asparagus with hollandaise, and a wonderful rice pilaf from a recipe by Julia Child. And she served it all impeccably, proud of herself for pulling it all together in record time. Alex made no comment about it, ate his dinner quietly, and did not ask her how school had gone. Faith was more than a little stunned.

“Do you like the fish?” she asked, angling for a compliment from him. She thought it was one of her best. “It's a new recipe I found.” She felt like Susie Home-maker making the perfect dinner for him, and still managing to go to school, even if it was the first day.

“It's fine,” he said without expression.

“How's the hollandaise?” She knew it was just the way he liked it, and the asparagus was just right.

“A little thick,” he commented, and then she realized that she didn't have a chance. Whether he liked the dinner or not, he had no intention of telling her, and she felt anger rise up in her like a head of steam. But she said nothing, and afterward just cleaned up after the meal, without saying another word to him. It had been a lousy thing for him to do. He was not going to concede anything, which seemed like ridiculously childish behavior to her. Now that she was back in school, he could make the best of it, and deal with it. But apparently, he had no intention of making it easy for her. And as she put the dishes in the dishwasher, and he disappeared, she was enraged. She stormed into her study and took out her schoolbooks as soon as she was through. And she sat there until one o'clock doing the two assignments she'd been given. She was finished by the time she went to bed, and had finally gotten over being angry at Alex. And now she had no work to do the next day. She had everything in control.

He didn't speak to her at breakfast the next morning either, and she was irritated with him.

“It's all right, Alex, I'm not going to school today. You can talk to me. You don't have to punish me till tomorrow.” More than she realized, she was still furious with him for the way he had treated her the night before.

“I don't know what you're talking about, Faith. That's a ridiculous thing to say.”

“It's a ridiculous way to behave. We're adults. You don't like the fact that I'm going to school, okay. But I'm trying to make it the best it can be for you. You don't have to make it impossible for this to work. You're punishing yourself as much as you are me.”

“You did this, Faith. You know how I feel about it. If you don't like my reaction, you can withdraw from school.” Simple as that, as far as he was concerned.

“Is that what this is? Blackmail? You're hardly going to speak to me, and make life miserable until I quit school?” He didn't answer her, and her voice was raised. It wasn't how he liked to begin his day. Nor did she. “I guess that's one way to handle it. Not very mature, to say the least. Do you think you can give me a chance on this? And at least see how it works before you start punishing me? I've only been there one day. I mean, how bad could it be?”

“Bad enough. You shouldn't have signed up in the first place. The whole idea is absurd.”

“So is your attitude,” she blazed at him, which was rare for her. They were off to a very bad start to her school career. And law school would be even worse. But that was his whole point. He wanted to stop her before she got that far. But she wasn't going to give in that easily. If anything, it strengthened her resolve.

“I think your behavior is deplorable,” Alex said to her icily, as he picked up The Wall Street Journal, and walked out of the kitchen. He hadn't touched his food, and neither had she. It was a great harbinger of what was to come in the months ahead.

She e-mailed Brad about it that afternoon. He answered her that night. He'd been in court until five o'clock.

“Dear Fred, sorry it took me so long to answer. Long day, minor victory for one of my kids. Listening to you talk about Alex drives me insane. He is living in the Dark Ages. How the hell does he get away with this stuff? We should send him to boot camp with Pam. She'd shape him up in a week. He's just going to have to suck it up and get over it. You can't give up your life for him. It's just so wrong for you to do that.

“Can you concentrate on school with him pulling all that shit? You'll have to try. Just do the best you can. You can't be perfect all the time, no one is. Just do your best. But know that there will be screw-ups, and exams, and nights you can't get dinner on the table and do your homework. Like it or not, he has to live with it. If you drop the ball now, or give in, you'll regret it forever. I know Jack would have said the same thing. He would be so thrilled about your going back to law school. He always thought you should. Said you had more natural talent for it than he. Did he ever tell you that? He told me many times, especially while we were in law school, and he kept thinking he'd flunk out. Hang in, Freddy baby… you're gonna win! Love, Brad.” He always made her feel so much better, and she was grateful for his encouragement. She needed it desperately, and Alex continued to make her life miserable for the next month.

Faith was juggling homework assignments, minor quizzes, taking care of the house, cooking for Alex. And Zoe and Brad were keeping her afloat. It was eminently “doable,” and she knew it. She could manage both marriage and school. She had even managed to complete her law school applications. And much to her amazement, her LSAT scores had been in the highest range possible. She was hoping that her scores would compensate for the fact that she hadn't worked or gone to school for the past twenty-five years. And her current grades were straight A's.

The hard part was being iced out by Alex, and the grim atmosphere he created at home. He was overwhelmed by his own resentment for her going back to school. And all it did was get worse as the weeks rolled along. And in early February, she ran into a real crunch. They announced in her Judicial Process class that they were going on a field trip to Washington for four days. It wasn't required, but it was strongly recommended, and the professor advised her to go. There was a paper due afterward, for extra points toward her final grade. She talked to both Brad and Zoe about it, and they both thought she should take the trip. The problem, of course, was Alex. Faith hadn't even had the courage to tell him about it. She wanted to make up her own mind first, before he put pressure on her not to go, which she suspected he would.

It was the week before the field trip when she finally told him what it entailed. He was entirely silent when she explained it to him at the end of dinner. She had had a stomachache all through the meal, waiting to talk to him. As usual, they had eaten without saying a single word. Ever since she'd gone back to school, he made no pretense of maintaining good relations with her. He had become more and more blatant about shutting her out.

“So that's the deal,” she summed up. “I'll be in Washington for four days. I can leave you frozen dinners, and I don't know what your travel schedule looks like these days. Are you going anywhere next week?” She hoped he was, so her absence wouldn't create a crisis with him. That would simplify everything.

“No, I'm not,” he said bluntly, staring at her as though she had just said she'd been arrested for armed robbery and was going to jail. “I can't believe what you're doing. You're masquerading as a student, when you have responsibilities here.”

“Alex, be reasonable. Our children are grown up and gone. We're adults. What do I do here? Nothing. I cook dinner for you at night. I have nothing else to do all day. I was dying of boredom before I went back to school.” His charade had gotten more ridiculous every day. It was all about his ego and controlling her. He wanted to know that he could make her do what he wanted. But he had pushed it too far, even for her.

“I'm sorry you're so bored being married to me, Faith.”

“I didn't say that. I just don't have a lot to do anymore. You know that. It's not a secret. You wanted me to take bridge lessons and take classes at the museum. This makes more sense.”

“Not to me.”

“What about Washington?” she said, cutting to the chase. He had said it all before, and she was tired of listening to it, and lying in the dirt on her face at his feet, apologizing to him. It was getting old, to her, if not to him.

“Do what you want.”

“What does that mean?” She wanted to know from him how high a price she would have to pay. How angry would it make him, how severely would she be punished? She would probably go anyway, she had decided, but she wanted a glimpse at the price tag before she did.

“It means that you do what you want in any case. Go ahead and do it, at your own risk and peril.” It was a thinly veiled threat, and as usual, it pushed a button with her.

“I'm so tired of this, Alex. I haven't committed a crime, for God's sake. I haven't been unfaithful to you. I haven't abandoned you, or our children. Why the hell do you have to act as though I did?”

“You're insane,” he said with a look of disgust as he stood up, and prepared to leave the room.

“If I am, you're making me that way.”

“Don't blame me if you don't like the consequences of your actions.”

“Okay, I won't,” she said firmly. “I'm going to Washington. I'll be gone for four days. You can call me if you need me. And I'll leave you all the food you can eat.”

“Don't bother, I'll eat out,” he said through clenched teeth.

“You don't have to. I'll leave you dinners for four days. Then you have a choice if you want to eat in or out.” He didn't say another word, just turned on his heel and walked out.

She didn't even e-mail Brad or Zoe about it. The scene had been so humiliating and frustrating, she didn't want to tell anyone. She was dealing with it herself. And the morning she left, she said good-bye to him, and he didn't answer her. He just continued reading his newspaper and acted as though she didn't exist. If it was designed to make her feel guilty, it had the opposite effect. It just made her angry, and relieved to be out of the house. She felt as though she'd just been let out of jail when she walked out with her backpack, one small duffel, and her computer in its case over her arm. She was taking it with her, to work on, and so she could communicate easily with Zoe and Brad. But it felt great to leave.

More than half the members of her class were going on the field trip. They met at La Guardia and caught a shuttle to Reagan National Airport in Washington, D.C. They were staying in a small hotel on Massachusetts Avenue that was full of foreign students and minor businessmen from overseas. Just being there seemed exciting to Faith, and late that afternoon, after spending time at the Smithsonian and the Library of Congress, she was thrilled she had come. And she already had an idea for the paper she was going to write when she got home. She started making notes for it in her hotel room that night, and plugged in her computer to work for a while, after they had dinner in an Indian restaurant. She had spent an hour talking to the professor, it was the woman she liked so much, and she got into a fascinating discussion with some of her fellow students about the Constitution and the validity of the laws it upheld. It led to a heated battle about the First Amendment, and by the time Faith got to her room, she was exhilarated and inspired. She was typing rapidly on the computer, when it signaled her that she had an e-mail. It was from Brad.

“Hi, Fred … so how's the Judicial Process? Have you done away with it yet? Having fun? I love D.C. Had a girlfriend there when I went to college, she was the daughter of the French ambassador. Used to visit her there, never had so much fun in my life. Tried to fix Jack up with her sister, but he was so outrageous, he scared her to death. So what are you up to? Nice people? Good prof?

“All is well here. Busy days. Trial next week. My secretary informs me it's Valentine's Day next week. The day when you remember someone you love, and realize they've forgotten you, or something like that. Flowers and chocolates. Hay fever and cavities. I seem to be losing my spirit of romance. I would take Pam out to dinner, except she would probably bring two hundred friends and insist I wear black tie. I figure I'll work, and tell her I forgot. She'll probably forget too. I'm rambling. Back to work. Keep in touch. If you run for president, let me know. You'll get my vote for sure. More soon. Love, Brad.”

She loved hearing from him. He always made her laugh, or at least smile. And his blurb about Valentine's Day reminded her that she wanted to send candy to the girls. She was sure Alex wouldn't mention the day to her, he never did. They were hardly in Valentine mode anymore, particularly lately. The day no longer meant much to her.

The rest of the trip to Washington was fascinating, and continued at a brisk pace. They went to museums, libraries, universities, gathering data and information to illustrate their course. And it was only on the last morning that they ran into a major snag. They still had a final day to complete, and a last night. But the teacher got an emergency call, her mother had been taken to the hospital. She'd had a stroke and was not expected to live. She got the call on her cell phone, and was understandably upset and said she had to leave. She urged the others to complete the day and remaining night. They weren't due to go home until the following afternoon. It was Friday morning by then anyway. And they weren't due back in New York until late Saturday. But by the time she made the announcement, Faith realized that she had completed all she had to do. She had more than enough for her paper, and more than half the group decided to go home. Without their leader to direct them, they rapidly lost steam. Some of them decided to stay without her, but Faith was among the group that opted to leave at noon. It also allowed her to spend the whole weekend with Alex, which she hoped would redeem her after being gone for three days. He hadn't called her once, or returned her daily calls, since she left.

She picked up her things at the hotel, and took a cab to National with five of her classmates. They caught a shuttle home, and were back in New York at two. It was perfect. She could get home, organize her papers, and cook him a nice dinner as a peace offering. She stopped at the market on the way home, and let herself into the house shortly after three. She was carrying two bags of groceries and set them down in the kitchen, along with all her other bags and belongings. She felt like she had been gone for weeks. And as she looked around the kitchen, she was surprised to see that it was admirably neat. She wondered if he had eaten out every night after all. And as she set the bags down on the floor, she noticed a pair of shoes under a chair. They were high-heeled black satin pumps, and she didn't own any like them. But more surprising, as she picked one up and looked at it closely, was that it was several sizes larger than hers. Her heart began to pound when she saw it, and with a sick feeling in her stomach, she walked upstairs.

The bed in their bedroom had been hastily made, with the bedspread thrown over the unmade bed. And when she pulled it back, she almost instantly spotted a black lace brassiere, and as she looked down, there was a matching pair of thong underwear, seemingly hastily discarded on the floor. She was suddenly overwhelmed by a sick feeling, and sat down on the bed, feeling faint. This couldn't be happening to her. There was no way to explain it, except for the obvious. This wasn't a house-guest, or a daughter, or anyone she could explain to herself. Alex had had a woman in the house while she was gone. And when she walked into her bathroom, there were cosmetics all over her dressing table, of a brand she didn't wear, and there was long black hair in the sink. There was no way she could paint a prettier picture for herself as she saw another pair of shoes, and a sweater hanging on the towel rack. And all she could do, as she looked at two dresses and three unfamiliar suits in her closet, was cry. It hadn't even been a one-night stand. Whoever the woman was who was staying with Alex, she had obviously moved in for the entire four days.

And then with a sudden feeling of terror, she realized that they would be coming back that night, maybe even that afternoon.

Without even thinking clearly, she ran down the stairs, after throwing the bedspread over the bed the way it had been, and leaving everything else undisturbed. And she was careful to turn off the lights. She ran back into the kitchen, grabbed all her bags, including the two bags of groceries she'd purchased, and left the house. She dropped the two bags of groceries into a trash can on the street, and hailed a cab, with no idea whatsoever where to go. There was no friend she wanted to confess this nightmare to, no place to take refuge, and with no idea what else to do, she asked the driver to take her to the Carlyle Hotel two blocks away, and sat in the backseat and cried.

“That's all?” The driver looked at her, confused. It was so close, she could have walked.

“Yes, yes,” she said, in total disarray, “just go.” She was terrified that she would run into Alex and the woman as they came home. But the worst of all was that it was her home too. He had defiled their home, and their bed. All she could think of as they drove up Madison was the sight of the brassiere and the thong. And all she wanted was to die. It was the ultimate payback for her trip to Washington, if that was what he had intended. But what she also realized as they stopped at the hotel, and the doorman opened the door for her, was that this couldn't have been a new woman to Alex. He wouldn't have moved a stranger into the house for four days. He must have been having an affair with her for a while. Faith felt sick as the doorman asked her if she was checking in, and she said yes.

She didn't want to confront Alex and make a scene. She was going to stay at the hotel, and go home Saturday afternoon, as planned, which meant that Alex and the woman, whoever she was, were going to be cozily ensconced in her house. All she wanted was to check into the Carlyle and throw up.

She asked for a room, and was lucky they had one, since she had no reservation, and told them she would be there for one night, or at most for the weekend. They signed her in, handed her a key, and a bellman carried her Washington gear upstairs. She was clutching her computer as though it were the Sierra Madre treasure, and her last link to the real world. But she didn't plug it in when she got upstairs. She just sat on the bed, sobbing, and it was dark outside by the time she stopped. She didn't even know what time it was. And when she glanced at the clock, she saw it was six o'clock. She couldn't even call Zoe to tell her. She didn't think it was fair to turn her against Alex. She had to sort this out for herself. It just didn't seem possible. But it was obvious to her now that he was having an affair. After all his coldness to her, all his fury and accusations over her going back to school, all the icy unkindness he had showered on her for so long, all the distance, all the silence, all the indifference to her as a woman, he was sleeping with someone else. And the worst part was that she was more devastated than angry. She was beginning to wonder if she should have stayed and confronted them both, but she didn't feel up to it, and she needed time to gather her wits.

It was eight o'clock in New York when she called Brad. She was going to discuss it with him calmly. She wanted his brotherly advice, just as she would have called Jack if he were alive. And she knew from Brad that Pam had had several affairs, and he had strayed once. She expected him to be calmer and more worldly about it than she was, and maybe he would tell her not to get upset. But as soon as she heard his voice, she started crying again, and couldn't even form words. She just sobbed uncontrollably into the phone, and for a minute he didn't know who it was. It wasn't unusual for him to get hysterical calls from potential clients, or their parents, and for a second he thought it was one of those, and then realized with horror that it was Faith.

“Fred? … shit… oh my God, what is it? … come on, baby … talk to me … tell me what it is….” He was afraid that something might have happened to one of her kids. “Fred, sweetheart… please … try to calm down … take a breath … tell me what happened … are you hurt? … are you okay? … where are you?” He was getting more desperate by the second, and she hadn't made sense yet.

“I'm in New York,” she croaked, and then dissolved into sobs again.

“Come on now, try to tell me what happened. Are you hurt?”

“No … but I wish I were dead….” She sounded like a little girl, and all he could envision was the little eight-year-old he had known and loved, with blond braids and no teeth, when they first met.

“Are the kids okay?” That was his worst fear for her, it was what all parents feared most. He prayed that wasn't it.

“Yes … I think so … it's not them… it's Alex …,” she said, still crying, but she could get the words out now, and Brad was relieved by what he had heard so far, except for the fact that she was so desperately upset. He wondered if Alex had had an accident, or maybe a heart attack, and had died.

“Is he hurt?”

“No, I am. He's a total shit.” Brad suddenly realized they must have had a fight, and it wasn't as bad as he had feared. But it must have been a lulu, for her to be in the state she was in. He had never heard her like that. He wondered if he had beaten her up. If so, Brad thought in anticipatory fury, he was going to nail him himself.

“I thought you were in Washington. What are you doing in New York?” He knew she wasn't due back till the next day.

“The professor's mother got sick, and she had to leave. So I came home early.” She was still crying, but coherent enough to talk to him at least. He was panicked over her.

“Then what?” He was anxious to hear.

“I went home.”

“Did you have a fight with him?” Brad waved his secretary away from his desk. She was signaling that he had three calls waiting, but he didn't care. He wanted to talk to Faith, without interruptions. Everyone else would have to wait, or go to hell. His priority was Faith.

“No, the house was empty.” Suddenly, real panic overtook him. Maybe she'd run into an intruder, and been raped.

“What happened, for God's sake? Fred, you have to tell me.” She was driving him insane. He couldn't help her if he didn't know what had put her in the state she was in.

“He had a woman there,” she said, and blew her nose in a wad of Kleenex from the box next to the bed.

“She was in the house when you came home?” Brad was stunned. Alex didn't sound like the type, from what she'd said.

“No, her clothes were. There were shoes in the kitchen, her clothes in my closet, her stuff all over my bathroom, and her underwear in the bed. He's been sleeping with her!” It certainly sounded like it to Brad. There weren't many ways to explain what she'd seen. “It was disgusting … there was a thong …” She dissolved into tears again, and he couldn't help but smile in sympathy for her. Poor kid.

“Poor baby. I wish I were there. Where are you, by the way?” She had obviously gone somewhere to call. He couldn't imagine she was sitting in the house, waiting for them to come home.

“I'm at the Carlyle. I took a room for the weekend. I don't know what to do. Do you think I should go home and throw her out?”

“I don't think that's such a great idea. First, you need to calm down. And then you need to figure out what you want to do. Do you want to divorce him? Leave him? Do you even want to tell him you know? If you don't, maybe it'll just blow over.” That was what he had always done with Pam, in the interest of saving their marriage. But she had been smart enough not to bring them home. If nothing else, he thought what Alex had done was just plain dumb.

“What if he's serious about her?” Faith sounded distraught.

“Then you have a major problem.” But they both knew she did anyway. Their marriage had been unhappy for years, and Alex had just severed the last thread, along with any respect she'd ever had for him. He had broken her heart with the thong. She felt like she'd been hit by a bus. And then Brad had a thought. “Do you want me to fly in? We can hash this out before you go home. I can take the red-eye tonight if you want, and come back tomorrow night.”

“No … it's okay … I have to figure this out… what am I going to do?” She wondered what Jack would have said, but she had the feeling that whatever it was, Brad would say pretty much the same thing. They were very much alike in their views.

“I think you really have to figure out what you want before you confront him. This is your show now, Fred. You've got the ace here.” She hadn't thought of it that way, but she wasn't convinced.

“Maybe not. Not if he's in love with her.”

“And if he isn't? Do you want to stay married to him? Can you forgive him for this? A lot of people do, so don't be embarrassed if you want to just forget about it. These things blow over eventually. Most of the time at least. It's usually just a passing thing.” He hated what Alex did to her anyway, but he was trying to be fair to her, and not get her more worked up than she was. Other people had forgiven their spouses for affairs before. He had Pam, and she him. It all depended on Faith's point of view.

“How could he do this to me?” She was having a typical reaction for anyone in the situation she was in.

“Stupid probably. Bored. His ego needed a boost, he was feeling old. All the same dumb reasons everyone else has for doing that kind of stuff. Most of the time, it's not true love. Just true lust.”

“Great. He doesn't even look at me anymore, and he is sleeping with some woman in a thong. She has long black hair,” she said, remembering the hair in the sink, and Brad smiled, and wished he could give her a hug. She needed one desperately. “Maybe she's really young.”

“I can guarantee you one thing, sweetheart. You're more beautiful than she is. And it doesn't matter if she has a beard and wears a toupee. He's probably just having some fun while you're away.”

“Meanwhile, he acts like I committed a felony because I went back to school. And I've been eating shit for a month to make it up to him, and scraping around on my hands and knees. Maybe this is his idea of revenge.”

“I'm almost sure it has nothing to do with you. It's about him. Screw him. Let's worry about you. What do you say you wash your face and order a cup of tea from room service, or maybe a drink? I'll call you back in half an hour, and we'll try to figure this out. All I want to help you decide is what you want to do. What I think is irrelevant here.”

“But what do you think?” she wanted to know.

“What do I think?” he said, trying to stay calm. “I think he's a complete son of a bitch, and a pathetic little prick, but not just because of this. He drags you around by the hair constantly, in one way or another, he freezes you out, you're lonely all the time, and now he does a dumb thing like this. Personally, I think he should be shot. But if you want to stay married to him, I support you a hundred percent. Because I don't love him, you do, and I'm not married to him.” He respected her marriage, and her desire to stay in it, as much as his own. Although he wished she had left Alex years before, for her sake.

“I'm not sure what I feel for him anymore. Right now, I hate him, and I feel humiliated and stupid and unloved. I don't know if I love him or not. I just thought I'd always be married to him, now I'm not so sure.” A door was opening that seriously frightened her, and she felt desperately insecure.

“Well, don't make any rash decisions until you figure that out. I'll call you back in half an hour.” He had eleven urgent phone messages waiting for him by then. He answered seven of them, asked his secretary to take care of the others. It was six o'clock for him by then, and fortunately he knew Pam was going out with friends.

Faith had ordered a pot of tea, and had splashed cold water on her face by the time he called her back half an hour later. But she had no idea what she was going to do about Alex, and just thinking about him in their house that night with the woman in the thong made her feel sick.

“How are you doing?” he asked sympathetically.

“I don't know. I feel weird.” And she sounded it. Like she was disconnected, and tired.

“What kind of weird?” He was suddenly worried she might have taken some pills, or done something else to herself. But she was more sensible than that.

“Just weird. Disillusioned, betrayed, screwed over. Numb. Sad.” She couldn't think of any other adjectives, but he was relieved.

“Oh, that kind of weird, that's fine. You should. I've been thinking about this, Fred. I think you should probably tell him what you know. If you don't, it'll just poison you. Let him figure out how to clean this up. But don't do anything you don't want to do. I'm just telling you what I think.”

“I think you may be right. I don't even know how to tell him what I saw.”

“That's the easy part. He knows. This isn't news to him, just to you.”

“I guess that's true.”

“The news flash here is that you know. Of course you can call him tonight, and give him a heart attack, and tell him you're watching the house. That ought to give him a little jolt,” he said evilly.

“He's not answering the phone.” She had tried all week.

“Well, that's smart at least. He'll probably be pretty hostile when you tell him you know, whenever you do. Guys don't like to get caught flat out, and one way or another, he'll try to make it your fault.”

“How?”

“You've been neglecting him, you don't love him anymore. He thought you were having an affair, although it's not likely he'll accuse you of that.” She was squeaky clean, and he figured Alex knew it too. “Maybe he'll say it's because you went back to school. Whatever it is, he'll try to lay it on you to absolve himself.”

“Do you suppose he's serious about this girl?” Faith sounded panicked at the thought, as though she was afraid he would throw her out of their house. She couldn't even imagine what she'd do. But Brad knew that couldn't happen to her. If anyone had to leave the house, it would be him.

“That's hard to say. Probably not. My guess is she's just a piece of ass. Sorry to be so blunt. She could even be a hooker.”

“I can't imagine him doing that, Brad.” But the underwear certainly looked like it, although lots of people wore underwear like that these days. Even Faith's kids. “I don't think that's his style, a hooker, I mean.”

“You never know. I hate to think of you sitting in that room, worrying about it all night. I don't suppose you'll get much sleep.”

“Maybe I'll get up in the morning and go to church. I have your rosary beads with me.” She was going to need more than rosary beads now. She was going to need a cool head, and maybe a good lawyer. Brad just wished he were there.

“You need to think this out quietly, Fred. Just figure out what you want before you make any moves.”

“I think I want to know what's going on, who she is, what she means to him. I want to know the truth.”

“If he'll give it to you. He doesn't strike me as the type. I think he'll do everything he can to accuse you, and then shut you out to protect himself.” Brad knew the species well. He had seen a lot in his years, among clients and friends and associates, and he had made some mistakes himself, though none as foolish as this.

“I think you're right,” Faith agreed. “Thank you for listening to me. I'm sorry I'm such a mess.” But she sounded a lot better than she had when she first called. He thought someone had died.

“You scared me to death. I thought something had happened to you, or one of the girls. This is pretty lousy stuff, but at least everyone's alive.”

“I'm not sure I am,” she said, sounding depressed.

“You will be once you sort this out.” It was after seven o'clock in San Francisco, and after ten in New York by then. “I think you should take a bath and go to bed. I'm going to go right home. If you need me, call. You can call at any hour. I'm here for you, Fred. I just wish there were more I could do.”

“You did everything you could. You did what Jack would have done. All you can do is talk to me, and you did. I have to figure this out for myself,” she said, sounding terminally sad.

“You will, Fred. I know you'll do the right thing.”

“What am I going to tell the girls if we break up over this? I don't think they should ever know.”

“Why not? You didn't do it. He did. He has to face the consequences of a very stupid move. It's not your job to keep it a secret for him. You don't owe him that, Fred.”

“Zoe will hate him for this.” And Ellie would find some excuse.

“She hates him anyway,” Brad said practically, “and I'm not so sure she's wrong. He hasn't been much of a father to her, nor much of a husband to you, from what I can see.”

“It hasn't been great,” Faith admitted, “but it's just the way it is.” It brought his mind back to the conversation they'd had the night they had dinner, about the compromises one made to stay married, when things didn't turn out the way you'd hoped. He wondered if it was going to be worth it to her to stay married to Alex in the end. At any price, to keep the peace. He hoped not, but he didn't want to influence her. He had no right, since he had done pretty much the same thing. He'd been turning a blind eye to Pam's affairs for years. It was easier that way, for him at least. But he thought Faith deserved a better break. And he probably did too, but he preferred not to rock the boat, and maintain the status quo.

“You sound beat. Try to get some sleep.” He was sure she wouldn't close her eyes all night, and so was she. But he thought she should try. “Why don't you call down for a massage? They probably have somebody who could come up even at this hour.”

“I'll just take a bath.” She wasn't used to pampering herself. Only everyone else. It had been that way for years.

“Call me at home, if you want. I'll be home in ten minutes.”

“Thanks, Brad … I love you, big brother….” She really did.

“I love you too, kiddo. We'll get you out of this mess … one way or another. It'll sort itself out. You'll see.”

“Yeah. Maybe so,” she said, sounding wiped out. But she didn't sound convinced, and neither was he. Alex was the unpredictable element in the piece. It was hard to know how he was going to react if Faith confronted him. Badly, Brad suspected as he drove home. He would have liked to give him a swift kick in the ass for what he had just done to Faith. It would have been one for the home team.

15

FAITH TOSSED AND TURNED ALL NIGHT, SHE FINALLY dozed off around four o'clock, and woke again at six. She got up, and watched the sun come up. It was a beautiful sunny day, and she had never felt worse. All she could think of was Alex and the woman with the long black hair sound asleep in their bed. She wasn't sure she would ever be able to sleep in it again.

She ordered a pot of black coffee at seven o'clock and put on a sweater and a pair of jeans. She went to the seven-thirty mass at St. Jean Baptiste on Lexington Avenue, and she held Brad's rosary beads in her hands, but she couldn't concentrate enough to say the prayers. She just knelt and stared into space. And when the mass ended, she walked back to the hotel. She didn't know what to do with herself all day. She wasn't due home till four or five, and she was afraid to go for a walk or leave the hotel, because she might run into them.

Brad called her when he got up. It was eleven o'clock for Faith, and he was worried about her, but she sounded all right. She said she was going to play it by ear when she got home. She just had to see how she felt, which Brad thought was reasonable.

“Just don't take any shit from him,” he reminded her, and for the first time since the day before, she smiled.

“I won't. I promise.”

“Call me when you can.” He was going out to play tennis with a friend, and he had promised to do an errand with Pam. She wanted a new stereo system for the living room, and he had said he would look at some with her. But he was carrying his cell phone, and told Faith to use it if she called the house and he was out. He was entirely available to her, and he didn't give a damn what comments Pam made. It was easy enough to explain to her, although he didn't think he would. He had nothing to feel guilty about, and neither did Faith. Their friendship was entirely clean, and completely pure. Unlike some of Pam's. He thought Pam might even feel sorry for Faith if she knew. She hated it when women were taken advantage of, or abused, and she would have told her just how to let Alex have it right between the eyes, better even than Brad could. But he was doing his best on her behalf.

Faith languished in her room all day, and at five o'clock, she called the bellman to carry her bags, and had the doorman call her a cab. She had too much stuff with her to walk the two blocks to the house. She let herself in with a shaking hand as she turned the key. The lights were on in the hall, and there was no sign of Alex. She assumed he was upstairs. She put her bags down in the hall, and walked slowly up to their room. The bed was made, and everything looked impeccable. She figured he must have made the bed himself. She wondered if he had had the decency to change the sheets, but she didn't look. He was sitting in his favorite chair by their bedroom fireplace, reading a book. He was the portrait of innocence itself. And he didn't even have the grace to look up at her, as she stood watching him. And for an instant, she felt a wave of disgust and hatred and hurt wash over her. She had to fight back tears.

“You're late,” he said, without looking up, and she couldn't believe his nerve. She didn't answer him, and he finally glanced up at her. She hadn't moved since she walked in. “How was the trip?”

She didn't answer his question, but proffered one of her own. “How was your week?” He could read nothing on her face, nor she on his.

“Long. Difficult. We had a lot of work.”

“That's nice,” she said, and sat down across from him. And as she did, she knew that she couldn't go on with the charade. She had to tell him the truth, as she knew it, whether or not he did.

“What did you do in Washington?” He could see something in her eyes, but he didn't know what it was. He kept talking to her while he tried to figure it out.

“What did you do in New York?”

“I told you,” he said, sounding irritated, “I worked. What do you think I did?” He was about to go back to his book, but stopped short at what she said.

“I'm not sure. I came home yesterday, Alex. We finished earlier than planned.”

“What do you mean you came home yesterday?” He looked stunned. But he made no admission of guilt.

“The professor's mother got sick and she had to leave, so some of us came home. I got in at two o'clock. I stopped to buy groceries, I thought I'd make something you really liked, and I came home. You know, kind of like Goldilocks … who's been sleeping in my bed? Whoever she is, she has fairly big feet, long black hair, and wears a thong.” His face went pale, but he said not a word for a long beat.

“Where've you been since yesterday?” he said accusingly, trying to turn the tables on her. Brad had warned her about that, so she was prepared. She wasn't buying it.

“I went to the Carlyle as soon as I figured out what you were doing here. I thought I'd spare us both the embarrassment of making a scene in front of her. What's happening, Alex? Who is she? How long has this been going on?” Her eyes never left his, and he had never seen her that way.

“That's irrelevant.” If he could have denied her existence entirely, Faith suspected, he would have. But there was no chance of that with everything she had seen. “If you weren't jaunting around pretending to be a kid, going to school, things like this wouldn't happen.” It was exactly what Brad had predicted he would do. He was trying to blame her for what he'd done.

“Does that mean when you go on business trips, you expect me to screw around, and it's your fault? That's pretty much the same thing.”

“Don't be ridiculous. I have to work for a living. You didn't have to go back to school.”

“And you think that gives you license to cheat on me? Wow, that's certainly one way to look at it.”

“I told you you were taking a risk when you went back to school.”

“I didn't realize your cheating on me was the risk you meant. We're playing for high stakes here, aren't we?” She was furious but she still didn't know what she wanted from him, or what the outcome would be. Neither of them was backing off and he was still trying to blame her. And as she looked at him, he got out of his chair and paced around the room.

“This is all your fault, Faith,” he accused without batting an eye. She couldn't believe her ears. “If you hadn't been such a damn fool about going back to school, this would never have happened. You threw our marriage out the window the day you did.”

“No.” Faith had white heat in her eyes and faced off with him. “You threw it out the day you brought that bitch into my bed. How dare you do such a thing!”

“How dare you speak to me that way! I won't tolerate that from you, Faith.” He was trying to fight fire with fire.

“You won't tolerate it? How do you think I felt when I came home and found her underwear in my bed and her hair in my sink?” There was very little he could say to that, but Faith wasn't prepared for what he said next. But he wasn't willing to let Faith have the upper hand.

“I'm moving out,” he said, and then walked into his bathroom and slammed the door. She could hear him slamming and banging in his dressing room, and twenty minutes later, as she sat on a chair looking stunned, he was carrying a valise. She didn't say a word to him. She couldn't even think of what to say.

“Where are you going?” She looked devastated. This was a nightmare come true. And suddenly she was wondering if it was her fault, if she had been too hard on him, if she was to blame because she'd gone to school. She didn't know which end was up anymore.

“I'm going to a hotel for the time being. You can call me at my office if you want to speak with me.” She wanted to tell him that her lawyers would, but she didn't want to jump the gun, just to have the last word. She didn't even know if she needed a lawyer yet, and she didn't want to ask him if she did.

“Are you in love with her, Alex?” Faith asked pathetically. She knew she'd hate to hear it from him if he was, but she wanted to know.

“It's none of your goddamn business whether or not I am,” he said viciously. Not once since she'd confronted him had he apologized to her.

“I think I have a right to know. Who is she?” Faith sounded calmer than she had. There was so much she wanted to know.

“You lost your rights in this marriage, Faith, when you put our marriage on the back burner and went back to school.” It was a ridiculous thing to say, and even Faith knew that. He was being spiteful, irrational, and cruel.

“Are you telling me this is the first time you've been unfaithful to me, and it's all because of me?”

“I'm not saying anything. You'll hear from me when I've decided what I want to do.” It was incredible, he was threatening her. He had turned the tables on her. And he was walking out. But she was the one who had been wronged, and that much was clear to her.

She didn't say another word as he clattered down the stairs, banging his bag along the wall, and a moment later, she heard the front door slam. She knew nothing more than she had when she got home. All she knew was what she had seen in her bedroom the day before, and nothing more. He wasn't about to enlighten her. She walked around the house aimlessly for a while, looking stunned. Half an hour later, she called Brad.

“How're you doing, Fred?” he asked sympathetically. She didn't sound good to him, but she wasn't sobbing this time. Her voice sounded very small.

“He moved out.”

“Are you kidding?”

“He said it was all my fault, because I went back to school, and it's none of my business who she is, or what she means to him.”

“I told you he'd blame you.” But Brad hadn't expected him to move out. He had been cornered like a rat, and it was the only defense he could use. Escape. It was a shabby thing to do, and he said as much to Faith. “I'd like to tell you you'll be better off, but I'm sure you don't feel that way right now.”

“We've been married for twenty-six years. I'm beginning to wonder if I even know who he is.”

“You probably used to, Fred. Things change. We don't always notice it, or want to acknowledge it.” The truth was, he was right. Alex had closed the door on her emotionally years before. She had chosen not to notice it, and to just live with things that way. But sooner or later, what she had ignored had come home to roost. And then she had another frightening thought.

“What am I going to tell the kids?”

“Why say anything, for the next few days at least? They won't know for a while, unless he tells them, and he probably won't. Let the dust settle. He may come back when he calms down. Getting found out may have forced him into a position he doesn't want to take. He may just slip back in if he doesn't lose too much face.”

“Do you think he will?” Faith sounded hopeful, which nearly broke Brad's heart. He didn't want her being buried alive with a man who treated her the way Alex did. If only on behalf of Jack, he wanted better for her. She deserved so much more than Alex gave.

“He might. Just try to relax. And maybe you should call an attorney tomorrow, just to protect yourself. I'll see if I can find you someone in New York. I'll call some friends who do family law out here and see who they recommend. I'm so sorry, Fred. You don't deserve this. And it's not your fault. I hope you know that.”

“I'm not sure what I believe.” She wasn't sure yet how she felt. More than anything she felt dead.

She moved into Zoe's room that night. She couldn't bear the thought of sleeping in her own bed, whether he had changed the sheets or not. Brad called to check on her late that night, and Pam commented when he got off the phone. She hadn't seen him look that upset in a long time. Not since one of their kids had been seriously sick.

“What was that all about?” She had just come in from dinner with friends, and he had stayed home, allegedly to do some work. But she knew perfectly well that he just hadn't wanted to go out with her and her friends.

“A friend in distress.”

“It must be pretty bad for you to look like that. Anyone I know?”

“No, it's okay. Marital problems.” Pam wondered if it was Faith, but she decided not to ask. Brad looked too upset for her to question him. She was smart about things like that, and she backed off.

And by noon the next day, Brad had e-mailed her the name of an attorney in New York. Faith called him and left a message, and was relieved when he called her back. She explained what had happened, and the attorney asked her if she wanted to hire a private investigator to see if they could find out who the woman was. And much to her own surprise, she said yes.

She felt like she was swimming underwater for the next few days. She went to school, talked to Brad. She hadn't heard a word from Alex, and the attorney called her back on Friday. She was stunned to hear that he knew who the woman was. She was twenty-nine years old, divorced, had a child, and was a receptionist at the investment banking firm where Alex worked. According to some of the secretaries who knew her there, she had moved to New York from Atlanta the year before, and she and Alex had been involved for the past ten months. Ten months. It had nothing to do with her going to school. He had been cheating on her for nearly a year. And just listening to the attorney, Faith felt sick.

She made an appointment to come to his office the following week, but she still had no idea what to do. She didn't know if she should divorce him, or ask him to come back. They hadn't talked all week. She didn't even know how serious he was about the girl. And not knowing what else to do, she called Alex at the office that afternoon. And was relieved when he took her call. She was afraid he wouldn't even do that, but he sounded anything but pleasant when he heard her voice.

“Do you want to get together and talk?” Faith suggested, trying not to sound as angry as she felt. What the lawyer had told her that morning had knocked her off her feet. But so did Alex's response.

“There's nothing to say, Faith,” he said bluntly, and tears sprang to her eyes again. She had spent a week crying on and off. It was almost the way she had felt when Jack died, only that was worse. But in its own way, this was like a death too. It was about loss, of faith, of hope, of dreams, of trust, and maybe even their marriage.

“We can't just walk away from this, Alex. We have to at least talk.” She tried to sound calmer than she felt, so she wouldn't frighten him off.

“I have nothing to say to you,” he said, as though he still felt it was all her fault. And she took a breath, and a leap that would have horrified Zoe and Brad. But it was all she could think of to do. In the face of his endless criticisms, she always felt as though she should make the effort and the sacrifice, no matter how unfair or unwarranted. It was her childhood haunting her again, trying to be the perfect little girl, and never quite measuring up anyway.

“What if I give up school?” It was the ultimate sacrifice, but she wanted to save her marriage. It was too much to give up without at least trying to salvage it. And if that was the issue for him, then maybe she had no choice. She didn't want to trade a law degree for a marriage of twenty-six years.

“It's too late for that,” he answered in a strangled voice, and Faith felt the room reel.

“Are you serious? Do you want to marry this girl?” It was the only reason she could think of for his not coming back. She had been a good wife to him. Her only “mistake,” if he wanted to call it that, was going back to school.

“It's not about this girl, Faith. It's about you.”

“Why? What did I do?” Tears were rolling relentlessly down her cheeks.

“Our marriage has been dead for years. And I feel dead when I'm with you.” She felt his words like a physical blow, they were so cruel. “I'm fifty-two years old. I want a better life. We're all through. The kids are grown up. They don't need us together anymore. You want to go to law school. I want a life too.” He made it sound like he had been planning this for years. And she had walked right into his trap when she went back to school. What he was saying to her was like ripping out her heart. She had stayed with him out of loyalty, and respect for their marriage. And all he was doing was waiting for a second chance, without her.

“I never realized you felt like that,” she said, in a choked voice.

“Well, I do. We both deserve more than this.” He was right, but Faith would have never grabbed for the brass ring, at his expense. She had had every intention of staying with him, no matter how difficult it was. He had none of that loyalty to her. “I've already called a lawyer. You'd better find one too.” She didn't tell him she already had. This whole disaster was moving with the speed of sound, and if nothing else, she wanted to slow it down. She thought he was making a colossal mistake.

“What are we going to tell the girls?” She could only imagine the spin he was going to put on it. It was going to be all her fault. And she had no intention of telling them the sordid story about the girl. It was too humiliating, but would have explained everything. And she was sure that, like her father, Ellie would blame her.

“We'll have to figure that out,” Alex answered her. “Get a lawyer, Faith. I want a divorce.”

“Oh my God.” She couldn't believe she was hearing those words. “How can you do this, Alex? Didn't our marriage mean anything to you?”

“No more than it did to you when you decided to stop being my wife and become a lawyer.”

“How can you compare the two?” She suddenly understood the appeal of the girl in the thong. She was twenty-three years younger than Alex, and a receptionist. She didn't have a major career. He could control her, and he had lost some of his hold on Faith. He couldn't forgive her for that.

“I don't have to justify anything to you, Faith. You brought this on yourself.” Part of her believed him and the rest of her wanted to scream, it was so unfair, and a moment later he hung up. He didn't even tell her where he was staying, and she suddenly wondered if he was living with the girl. Anything was possible now. Faith felt as though she had lost her entire world in a single week, and she was crying softly when she heard the front door slam. She jumped, and couldn't imagine who it was, until she heard Zoe's voice.

“Hi, I'm home!” She had come home as a surprise, and Faith didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to explain Alex's absence, and she wasn't ready to tell her about the divorce. She hadn't even absorbed it yet herself.

Faith quickly wiped her eyes and hurried into the hall with a wide smile. But she had a wild-eyed look, and she hadn't combed her hair all day. And there were deep circles under her eyes, from not sleeping all week.

“Hi, Mom,” Zoe said, as she dropped her bag on the floor of the front hall and then took a closer look at her mother, with worried eyes. “Are you sick?”

“I had some kind of stomach flu, and I've been feeling rotten all week.”

“That's too bad,” Zoe said sympathetically, “you sound like you have a cold too.”

“I do.” Faith was quick to agree. The truth was that she looked as bad as she felt. And it was going to be agony trying to keep the truth from Zoe over the weekend, but she was also relieved that she was there. It gave her something to hold on to, and to anchor her reality to. Her entire life had begun to feel surreal.

“Where's Dad?” Zoe asked, as she checked the refrigerator. There was hardly any food. Faith hadn't shopped or eaten all week.

“He's out of town. He's in Florida.” It was the first place that came to mind, and Zoe nodded. The story was plausible to her. Her father went away a lot.

“We need groceries. Sorry I didn't call. I thought it would be fun to surprise you, Mom. I'm sorry you've been sick.” She turned to her mother with a smile.

“I'll be fine.” Zoe nodded, and didn't think much of it, and then was surprised to see her mother's nightgown in her room and her bed unmade when they went upstairs.

“Who's been sleeping in my room?” She looked startled as she saw her unmade bed.

“I didn't want to keep your father up with my cold, so I slept in here. Sorry, sweetheart, I'll make the bed right away.”

“I thought you said Dad was away.” Zoe looked suspicious. It was obvious that something was wrong, and she wondered if her parents had had a fight.

“He is. But he only left today. I was going to move back to our room tonight.” But the big pretty yellow room all done in flowered chintz looked like a hellhole to her now. She couldn't imagine sleeping in it again.

“How come he left over the weekend?” That was unusual for him.

“I think he was afraid he wouldn't get in. They're expecting a big snowstorm in Chicago at the end of the week. He was going to a very important meeting, so he left early to be sure he'd get in.”

“Mom.” Zoe sat down on the edge of her bed and pulled her mother down next to her. In all her eighteen years, she had never seen her mother in such distress or so confused. Not even when her brother's plane had crashed. Zoe had been fifteen years old then and remembered it well. Her mother looked dazed and in total disarray. “You said he went to Florida. Mom, what's happening? What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” she insisted, as she started to cry. It had been the week from hell, and she was falling apart. And she didn't want to tell Zoe anything yet.

“Tell me the truth, Mom. Where's Dad?”

She knew she had to say something, if not the whole truth. “We had a little fight. It's nothing. I'm just upset, that's all. It's not a big deal.” But it was, and she knew she'd have to tell Zoe the truth at some point. She hated lying to her. “Okay, we had a big fight. A very big fight,” Faith admitted, blowing her nose, as Zoe kept an arm firmly around her. Her sympathies always lay with Faith.

“How big?”

“Very big. He walked out.”

“He left?” Zoe looked shocked, and was suddenly glad she'd come home. Her mother was a total mess. “He walked out?”

“Yes.” She had to fight to hold back sobs.

“Why?”

“It's too complicated to explain. I really don't want to tell you about that part. You have to trust me on that.” Zoe decided to respect her mother's boundaries, for the time being at least.

“Did he blame you?”

“Of course,” Faith said, blowing her nose again. “Who else can he blame? Certainly not himself.”

“Is he coming back?” Faith started to say yes, and then stopped and shook her head as she cried more.

“Holy shit. He's not? Are you sure?” Zoe looked stunned.

“He just told me he wants a divorce.” Zoe was suddenly not just her daughter, but her best friend. And she was afraid to burden her, but Zoe seemed to be holding up a lot better than her mother was. “When did all this happen?” “A week ago. I'm sorry I'm such a mess.” “What a bastard he is,” Zoe said about her father. It confirmed everything she'd thought of him for years, and then she looked at her mother again. “Does Ellie know?” “No one does. I just talked to him half an hour ago. He moved out on Saturday, and he just told me he wants a divorce. He says he has a right to a life too, and he feels dead being married to me.” “What a shit!”

“Don't talk about your father that way.” “Why not? He is. When were you going to tell us?” “I don't know. This is all pretty new. I've just been sitting here crying all week.”