Changes

The twins were both obviously disappointed that she wasn't coming home, Jessica more than Val, but they both said they'd see her the following night, and then turned the phone over to Raquel, who waited until they left the room before she made comment.

“Boy, he must be somethin' else!”

“Who?” Mel's face looked blank as Peter watched.

“The new boyfriend in New York.”

“What boyfriend?” But now she was blushing. “Raquel, you're oversexed. How are the girls?”

“They're okay. Val has a new boyfriend she met on the beach yesterday, and I think there's someone who's interested in Jessica, but she doesn't look too excited.”

Mel smiled. “Sounds like everything there is normal. How's the weather?”

“Gorgeous. I look like a Jamaican.” The two women laughed and Mel closed her eyes, thinking of the Vineyard. She wished that she and Peter were there, and not stuck in New York on a Saturday in July. She knew that, even mountain lover that he was, he would love it.

“See you tomorrow, Raquel. And I'll be in and out of the house here if you need me.”

“We won't.”

“Thanks.” It was always so comforting to know that the girls were in good hands, and as she hung up she smiled to herself, trying to imagine that exchange with Peter's housekeeper, Mrs. Hahn. It was beyond even Mel's imagination, and she laughed as she told him.

“You like your housekeeper a lot, don't you?” he asked.

Mel nodded. “I'm damn grateful to her for all she's done. She's an ornery old bitch at times, but she loves those kids, and she even loves me.”

“That's not hard to do.” He kissed Mel full on the mouth and sat back to look at her. She handled her children differently than he did, spoke to her help in a way he never would, and her life seemed to run remarkably smoothly. For a minute, he asked himself if he would only disrupt it, and she saw the look in his eyes as she got up and stretched. They had had a wonderful morning, and it was like an extra gift, since they hadn't expected to be together, which made them appreciate the time even more.

“What were you thinking then, Peter?” She was always curious about his thoughts, and always intrigued by what he told her.

“I was thinking how well organized your life is, and how long it's all been running on the same track. I was wondering if I'm more of a disruption than an asset.”

“What do you think?” She sprawled on the chaise longue in her room, naked, and he found himself longing for her again. It was amazing how constantly his body hungered for her.

“I think I can't think straight when I see you without your clothes on.”

“Neither can I.” She grinned and beckoned to him with one finger, as he approached and lay down on the chaise beside her, and a moment later he rolled slowly over her, pulling her long thin figure on top of his body.

“I' m crazy about you, Mel.”

She could hardly breathe she wanted him again so badly. “M e too …” And then they made love again, and forgot their troubles and guilts and responsibilities, and even their children.

It was one thirty before they had showered and gotten dressed and Melanie looked like a contented cat as they strolled out of the house into the hot sunshine. “We sure are lazy.”

“Why not? We both work so damned hard, I can't remember ever having a weekend like this.” He smiled down at her and she laughed.

“Neither can I. Or I'd be too tired to work.”

“Good. Maybe I need to keep you too tired to work, so you don't think of that fancy job of yours all the time.”

She was surprised at his comment. “D o I do that?” She wasn't aware of thinking of work all the time, and wondered what he meant by it.

“Not really. But there's a certain awareness that you have another life, not just your kids and your house, and a husband.”

“Ah.” Understanding was beginning to dawn. “You mean I'm not just a housewife. Do you mind that?”

“No.” He shook his head slowly, thinking about it, as they wandered down Lexington Avenue with no particular destination in mind. It was just a hot, sunny day, and they were happy to be together.” I don't mind. And I'm very impressed by what you do, and I respect who you are. But it's different than if you were just…"H e looked for the words and smiled down at her. “An ordinary mortal.”

“Bullshit. What's different about it?”

“You couldn't just leave for Europe with me for six months, could you?”

“No, my contract wouldn't exactly melt into thin air, not without a hefty lawsuit. But you couldn't do that either.”

“That's different. I'm a man.”

“Oh, Peter!” She hooted. “You are a rotten chauvinist.” “Yes”—he looked down at her proudly—“I am. But I still respect your job. So long as you stay as feminine as you are and can manage all the womanly stuff too.”

“What does that mean?” She was suddenly vastly amused by him. From anyone else it might have annoyed her, but it didn't from him. “You mean like wax floors and bake cheesecake?”

“No, be a good mother, have babies, care about the man in your life, without putting your work first. I was always happy that Anne didn't work because it meant she was there for me. It would bother me if the woman I loved weren't.”

“No one's there all the time, Peter. No woman and no man. But if you care enough about someone you can juggle things most of the time, so you're there when they really need you. It's a question of good organization, and a sense of priorities. I've been there for the girls most of the time, in fact almost always.”

“I know you have.” He had sensed that about her from the first. “But you haven't wanted to be there for a man.”

“No, I haven't.” She was honest with him.

“And now?” He looked worried as he asked the question, like a little boy who was afraid he wouldn't find his mommy.

“What are you asking me, Peter?” There was a sudden silence between them. There was a potential which they both sensed, which still frightened them both, but Peter was bravest about pointing to it, and now he suddenly wanted to know where Mel stood, but he didn't want to scare her off. Maybe it was too soon to be asking these questions. She sensed his concern and leaned toward him. “Don't worry so much.”

“I just wonder what all this means to you sometimes.”

“The same thing it means to you. Something beautiful and wonderful that's never happened to me before. And if you want to know where it's going, I can't tell you.”

He nodded. “I know. And that bothers me too. It's like in surgery, I don't like to wing it, I like to know where I'm going, what's the next step.” He smiled at her. “I'm a planner, Mel.”

“So am I. But you can't plan these things.” And as she smiled at him, the mood lightened between them.

“Why not?” He was teasing now and she grinned. “What do you want, a contract from me?”

“Sure. A contract for that gorgeous body of yours anytime I want it.”

They held hands and swung their arms, and Mel looked at him happily. “I'm so glad you stayed for the weekend.”

“So am I.”

They went to Central Park then, and wandered around until five and then walked up Fifth Avenue to the Stanhope Hotel and had a drink at the outdoor café. And then they walked the few blocks back to her house again, ready to sequester themselves again in her comfortable little house. They lay on the bed and made love, and sat watching the sunset at eight o'clock, and then they showered and went to Elaine's for dinner. The place was mobbed and Mel knew half the people there, even though most of the people she knew left town for the weekend in summer. One instantly sensed how much a part of her life this was; the celebrities whom she knew and who knew her, the recognition, and the whole electricity of New York seemed to suit her. There was a milieu like that in L.A. too but it had never been a part of his life. He was too busy with his own doings, his family, and his patients.

“So, Doctor, what do you think of New York?” They were walking arm in arm down Second Avenue, back toward her house.

“I think you love it, and it loves you.”

“I think you're right.” She smiled happily. “But I happen to love you too.”

“Even though I'm not a talk show host, or a politician or a writer?”

“You're better than all that, Peter. You're real.”

He smiled at the compliment. “Thank you. But so are they.”

“It's not the same thing with them. They only touch half my life, Peter. There's another part they never come near. I've never really found anyone who understood both halves of my life before. My family life and my professional life are both important to me, and they're so diametrically different.”

“You seem to manage both.”

She smiled, and nodded. “It's not always easy though.”

“What is?” He was suddenly thinking of his daughter's reaction to his staying in New York, and he suspected that she'd make him pay for it when she saw him again. She always did.

But Mel looked at him then with a smile and they turned west on Eighty-first Street, and went back to her house to lie in bed and talk until two in the morning.

The next morning, they had brunch at the Tavern-on-the-Green, and then they went down to Greenwich Village for a street fair. There wasn't a great deal to do in New York in the summertime, but neither of them seemed to care. They just wanted to be together, and they walked for hours, talking of their pasts, their lives, their work, their children, themselves. It was as though each couldn't get enough of the other, and at five o'clock they regretfully went back to Mel's house, and made love for a last time. At seven o'clock they took a cab to the airport. And suddenly the time moved all too quickly. It seemed only moments later when they had to say good-bye and they clung to each other at the gate for their final moments.

“I'm going to miss you so much.” He looked down at her, infinitely glad he had come to New York. He sensed that it had changed the course of his whole life and he wasn't even afraid anymore. He put a finger under her chin and tipped her face up to his. “You promise, you're coming to Aspen?”

She smiled and fought back the tears she felt welling up in her throat. “We'll be there.” But she still didn't know how she'd tell the twins.

“You'd better.” He held her close and kissed her one last time before boarding the plane with a wave, and as he left, Mel felt as though he had taken her heart with him.

It was a long lonely trip back to Martha's Vineyard that night and she didn't arrive at the house in Chilmark until after midnight, and everyone was asleep. She was relieved that they were. She didn't want to talk to a soul in the world except Peter Hallam, and he was still on a plane heading west to Los Angeles.

Mel sat for a long time on the porch of the house that night, listening to the sound of the ocean, and feeling the gentle breeze on her face. There was a wonderful, peaceful feeling just being there, and she was sorry he hadn't been able to be there with her. But for now, it was just as well. They had needed to be alone. And being in Aspen with his children and hers was going to be enough of a challenge. She still hadn't decided when or how to tell the girls, but she decided the next morning at breakfast that it would be best to give them all the time she could to get used to the idea. They had never left the Vineyard in the middle of the summer before, and she knew they would find it strange. More than that, they would find it suspicious.

“Aspen?” Jessica stared at her in amazement. “Why would we be going to Aspen?”

Mel attempted to look nonchalant, but she could feel her heart beating faster. Partly because they were putting her on the spot, and partly because she was about to tell a lie. “Because it's a very exciting invitation, and we've never been there.” Raquel snorted as she went back to the kitchen for the maple syrup, and Val looked at her mother in horror.

“But we can't leave. Everything's happening here, and we don't know anybody in Aspen.”

Mel looked at the youngest twin calmly. She would be easier to convince than her sister. “Relax, Val, they have boys in Aspen too.”

“But that's different. And we know everyone here!” She looked as though she were going to cry, but Mel held firm.

“I just think it's an opportunity we shouldn't miss.” Or did she mean “I”? She felt guilty for what they didn't know.

“Why?” Jessica was watching her every move. “What's in Aspen?”

“Nothing … I mean … oh, for chrissake, Jess, stop acting like the official investigative team. It's a fabulous place, the mountains are wonderful, there are loads of kids and things to do, pack trips, horses, hiking, fishing …”

“Blyearghk!” Valerie interrupted with disgust. “I hate all that stuff.”

“It'll do you good.”

But this time Jessica intervened, ever practical. “But that means we'll miss part of the summer here. And we rented the house for both months.”

“We'll only be gone for two weeks. You'll still have six weeks here.”

“I just don't understand it.” Jessica left the table in obvious annoyance and Val burst into tears and hurried to her room.

“I won't go! It's the best summer I've ever had, and you're trying to wreck it!”

“I am not trying to—” But the door slammed before she could finish, and she looked at Raquel in obvious irritation as she cleared the table.

“It must be serious.” She shook her head wisely and Mel got up with a groan of aggravation.

“Oh, for chrissake, Raquel.”

“All right, all right. Don't tell me. But wait and see, six months from now you gonna get married. I never seen you leave the Vineyard before.”

“This will be a fabulous trip.” She was trying to convince them all, including herself, and wishing it were a little bit easier.

“I know. And what about me? Do I have to go too?” She didn't look any more thrilled than the girls.

“Why don't you take your vacation then instead of waiting until the end of the summer?”

“Sounds good to me.”

At least that was one worry behind her. Val didn't come out of her room for two hours, and then emerged, red-eyed and red-nosed, to meet her friends on the beach, and she was obviously not speaking to her mother. Jessica came to find Mel alone on the porch half an hour later, answering some letters. She sat down on the steps near Mel's feet, and waited until her mother looked up from what she was writing.

“How come we're going to Aspen, Mom?” She looked Mel straight in the eyes and it was difficult not to tell her the truth … because I've fallen in love with this man and he goes there in the summer.

“I thought it might be a nice change for us, Jess.” But she didn't quite look Jessica in the eyes, and didn't see how carefully she was watching her mother.

“Is there another reason?”

“Like what?” She was stalling for time, her pen poised over her paper.

“I don't know. I just don't understand why you'd want to go to Aspen.”

“We were invited by friends.” At least it was a half-truth, but this was turning out to be as difficult as Mel had feared, and if Peter thought his group was going to be any easier, he was crazy.

“What friends?” Jessica looked at her more intently, and Mel took a deep breath. There was no point lying to her, she'd find out soon enough.

“A man named Peter Hallam and his family.”

Jessica looked shocked. “The doctor you interviewed in California?” Mel nodded. “Why would he invite us to Aspen?”

“Because we're both alone with our children, and he was very nice to interview and we got to be friends. He has three children more or less your ages.”

“So what?” Jessica sounded even more suspicious now.

“So it might be fun.”

“For whom?” Touché. She was outraged now, and Mel felt suddenly exhausted. Maybe it was stupid to push to go to Aspen.

“Look, Jess, I just don't want to argue about this with you. We're going and that's it!”

“What is this?” She stood up with her hands on her hips, glaring at her mother. “A dictatorship or a democracy?”

“Call it what you like. We're going to Aspen in three weeks. I hope you'll enjoy it, if not, call it two lost weeks out of a very long, pleasant summer. I might remind you that you're going to have one hell of a nice time here, get to do everything you want for almost two months, and you and Val are having quite an elaborate birthday party next week. I don't think you have much to complain about.” But apparently Jessica did, as she stomped off in a huff without saying another word to her mother.

And things didn't improve much in the next two weeks despite the clambake on the beach for seventy-five kids for Jessie and Val's sixteenth birthday. It was a wonderful party and everyone had a great time, which made them even more resentful that they had to leave the following week. And by then, Mel was sick to death of hearing them complain about it.

“What about you, love?” She lay on her bed talking to Peter one night. They were still talking to each other twice a day, and dying to see each other, in spite of the children.

“I haven't told them yet. There's time.”

“Are you kidding? We're meeting you next week.” She sounded aghast. She had taken two weeks of abuse from the twins, and he hadn't even started dealing with it at his end.

“You have to be casual about these things.” He sounded extremely nonchalant and Mel thought he was crazy.

“Peter, you've got to give them time to adjust to the idea that we're meeting you there, or else they're going to be awfully surprised and probably very angry.”

“They'll be fine. Now tell me about you.” She told him about what she'd been doing, and he reported on the technique he had tried in surgery that morning. Marie was doing extremely well, despite a minor setback and she was due to leave the hospital in a few days, later than expected but in high spirits.

“I can't wait to see you, love.”

“Me too.” He smiled at the thought, and they chatted on for a little while. But he wasn't smiling when he faced Pam four days later.

“What do you mean we've invited friends to Aspen this year?” She looked livid as she faced him across the dinner table. He had told Mark the night before, just casually, as he was going out, and Mark had looked surprised but he hadn't had time to discuss it. And he was going to tell Matthew after he told Pam. But Pam looked as though she were about to go through the roof as she looked at her father. “What friends?”

“A family I thought you'd enjoy.” He could feel sweat drip slowly down his sides, and was annoyed with himself for it. Why did he let her make him so nervous? “There are two girls almost your age.” He was stalling, and they both knew it but he was terrified to tell her it was Mel. What if she went off the deep end again?

“How old?”

“Sixteen.” He looked hopeful, but his hopes were quickly dashed.

“They're probably creeps and they'll snub me because I'm younger than they are.”

“I doubt that.”

“I won't go.”

“Pam … for heaven's sake …”

“I'll stay here with Mrs. Hahn.” She seemed as movable as granite.

“She's taking her vacation.”

“Then I'll go with her. I won't go to Aspen with you unless you get rid of these people. Who are they anyway?”

“Mel Adams and her twins.” It had to be said, and Pain's eyes opened wide.

“Her? I won't go!” Something about the way she said it finally got to him, and before he could stop himself, he slammed a fist into the dining table.

“You'll do what I tell you, do you understand? And if I say you're going to Aspen, that's exactly what you'll do! Is that clear?” But she said not a single word in answer; she took her empty plate and threw it against the wall, and it shattered in a dozen pieces on the floor, while she flew from the room and he watched her. If Anne had been alive, she would have forced her to come back and clean up the mess, but he didn't have the heart to do that to her. She was a child without a mother. Instead, he sat in the dining room, staring at his plate, and then a few moments later, he left the room and closed himself in his den. It took him half an hour to get up the courage to call Mel. He just needed to hear her voice, but he didn't tell her anything of what had happened.

The next morning, Pam did not come down to breakfast and Matthew quizzed him with a look of interest. He had returned from his grandmother's house the night before after dinner.

“Who's coming to Aspen with us, Dad?”

With a belligerent air, Peter looked him straight in the eye. “Miss Adams. The lady who had dinner with us here one night, and her two daughters.” He sat braced for war since that was what he'd met in the first round, but Matthew's face exploded with joy at the news.

“She is! Wow! When is she coming?”

Peter relaxed in his chair with a smile and looked at his youngest child in relief. Thank God one of them was decent about it. He still hadn't heard from Mark, but maybe he would behave as strangely as Pam, although that was unlikely. Mark was too involved in his own life these days to be much trouble. “She's meeting us in Aspen, Matt. All three of them are.”

“Wow! Why doesn't she come here and we can fly there together?”

“Fly where?” Mark entered the room with a sleepy scowl. He had been out late the night before and had to get to work in a hurry now, but he was starving. He had already asked Mrs. Hahn for fried eggs, bacon, toast, orange juice, and coffee.

“We were talking about Aspen.” Peter looked defensively at Mark, and waited for the now-expected explosion. “He was thinking that Mel Adams and her daughters should meet us here.” There was no immediate reaction and he turned back to Matt. “But they're coming from the East and it's easier for them to fly to Denver and then Aspen.”

“Are they cute?”

“Who?” Peter looked blank. He couldn't keep up with them all these days and he was still unnerved by Pam's reaction the night before. She had yet to emerge from her room, and the door had been locked when he tried it the night before and there had been no answer when he called her name. He decided to leave her alone to cool off for a day. He'd talk to her tonight after he came home from the office.

“Are her daughters cute?” Mark looked at his father as though he were extremely stupid, and Peter sat back in his chair and laughed, just as Mark's gargantuan repast arrived.

“Good God, who's all that for?”

“Me. Well, are they?”

“Are they what? Oh … oh … sorry … I don't know. I assume so. She's a good-looking woman, her daughters must be too.”

“Hmmm …” Mark was torn between attending to his breakfast and discussing the prospects of Mel's daughters. “I hope they're not dogs.”

“You're a jerk.” Matt looked at him in disgust. “They're probably gorgeous.”

And with that, Peter stood up with a grin. “And on that note, gentlemen, I bid you good morning. If you see your sister, give her my love. I'll see you all tonight. Mark, will you be home?”

He nodded, gobbling half a piece of toast, one eye on the clock, worried about being even later for work. “I think so, Dad.”

“Don't forget to tell Mrs. Hahn your plans.”

“I won't.” With that, Peter left them and went to the hospital to do rounds. They weren't doing any surgeries that morning. Another special meeting had been called to discuss techniques, among them Peter's newest which he explained in great detail to Mel later that afternoon when he called her. And when he had finished, he decided to be honest with her about Pam's reaction.

“She'll be all right. I think it's just very threatening to her.”

“Do you still want us to come?”

“Are you kidding?” He sounded horrified that she would even ask. “I wouldn't even consider going without you. What about your brood? Are they adjusting?”

“Grudgingly.”

The “casual” reception he had hoped for had vanished into thin air. Mel had been right, about Pam at least. “Matt is thrilled. And I'm afraid that Mark is already contemplating the twins with a somewhat eager eye. But he's harmless.”

“Don't tell me that!” Mel laughed. “Wait till you see Val!”

“She can't be as exotic as all that.” Mel was always talking about the girl's voluptuous figure and sex-kitten allure. But she was probably viewing the child with a far-from-objective eye, as the girl's mother.

“Peter.” Mel's voice was firm. “Valerie is not exotic. She's just downright sexy. You'd better start putting saltpeter in Mark's food right now.”

“Poor kid. I think he's still a virgin, and working his ass off to change his status. He turns eighteen next month, starts college in September, and the last thing he wants is to be a virgin.”

“Well, tell him to practice on someone other than my daughter.”

“That's a deal, as long as I can practice on her mother.” They both laughed then, and they were both looking forward to Aspen, in spite of their children.

“Think we'll survive it, Peter?”

“I have not a single doubt, my love. We're all going to have a great time.”

“You think Pam will be okay?”

“I'm certain of it. And the fact is we have to think of ourselves too. I love you, Mel.” She responded in kind and they hung up at last.

But his diagnosis seemed to be a trifle optimistic as they boarded the plane to Denver from LAX a few days later.

“Come on, sourpuss, it's time to board.” Marie found Pam unbearable when she sulked as she had been for days. She wasn't even speaking to their father. “You're going to make it a great vacation for all of us, aren't you?”

“Up yours.” She spoke to her older brother in a tone that would have curled anyone's hair, and Marie looked as though he would have liked to hit her.

“Come on, you two.” Peter was wearing chino slacks, a plaid shirt, and a red sweater over his shoulders, carrying a small backpack. He had everyone's boarding passes in one hand, and he was holding on to Matt's hand with the other. Matthew was in such high spirits that he amply made up for Pam, who found a seat by herself across the aisle when they boarded. The three men sat three abreast, with Matthew on the window so he could look out, and Peter on the aisle so he could keep an eye on Pam, but she turned her face away, and looked out the window for the first half of the flight and then she read a book until lunch was served, but she did no more than pick at her food before the tray was picked up again. Peter concealed his worry. Later, when Peter broke out the candy he had brought for the kids, he passed some to her too, but she declined it without looking at him.

“She's really being an ass, Dad.” Mark said it sotto voce to his father before they landed in Denver.

“She'll be all right. Mel's girls will distract her. She's probably just feeling threatened because she won't be the queen bee for a while. She's used to being the only girl around the three of us, and here come three new ones. It's bound to be a bit of a jolt at first.”

“She just likes getting her way. She has ever since Mom died.” He looked reproachfully at their father. “Mom would never have let her get away with this.”

“Maybe not.” But even that reproach hurt Peter. He tried so damn hard, and why did they always think Anne had done it all better?

But then Matthew reclaimed his attention as they landed, and they had to run to change planes, and catch the flight to Aspen. It was a short bumpy ride over the mountains and they made a spectacular landing, dipping in between the mountains to the tiny airport filled with Lear jets and small private planes. Aspen was a magnet to the very rich, and also to a more varied, interesting crowd. There seemed to be everything there, all kinds of people, which was one of the reasons why Peter liked it. It was one of the many traditions he had shared with Anne, that he still kept up now, because they had shared happy times during their holidays there, in winter and summer.

“We're here!” He said it with joy in his voice and the four of them disembarked and rented a car at the airport, to go to a condo much like the one they had rented for the past five years. It seemed time for a new one this time, and even Pam seemed more excited as they approached town. As usual, nothing had changed, including the spectacular view of the mountains. And they had just enough time to settle in and unpack, and go to the supermarket for some food, before Peter had to go to the airport to meet Mel's plane. He looked around the group unpacking the food before he left and made one of his seemingly “casual” offers. “Anyone want to come?”

“I'll come.” Mark was quick to drop what he was doing, and put his Topsiders on his bare feet. He was wearing khaki shorts and a red T-shirt, and with his deep tan from L.A. and his hair bleached from the sun, even Peter had to notice that the boy was strikingly handsome. Mel's twins would melt, and if they didn't, there was something wrong with them, he grinned to himself, proud of his oldest son.

“Me too!” Matt piped up, grabbing his favorite space gun.

“Do you need that thing?” Peter glanced at the gun, it made a noise that drove him crazy.

“Sure, we might be invaded by creatures from outer space.”

“They're coming in on the next flight,” Pam said pointedly and Peter glared.

“That's enough! In fact”—he looked angrily at Pam—“I think you should come too. We're a family, and we do things together.”

“How touching.” She stood firmly in the kitchen. “I think I'll stay.”

“Come on, asshole.” Mark pushed her toward the door and she pushed him back and Peter roared.

“God damn it! I want you to behave now!” Pam seemed suddenly mollified by the roar from her father, and the four of them drove to the airport in silence, as Peter worried about what Pam would say to Mel and her daughters. But as he saw Mel step off the plane, all he could think of was how much he loved her and how desperately he wanted to pull her into his arms. But they had to remain in control in front of the kids. She came toward him, with her red hair tied in a loose knot, a straw hat shielding her eyes, and a pretty cream-colored linen dress and sandals. “It's good to see you, Mel.” He took her hand as the children watched, and she kissed his cheek lightly and turned at once to his children. It took every ounce of self-restraint she had not to kiss him full on the mouth.

“Hi, Pam, it's nice to see you again.” She lightly touched her shoulder and bent to kiss Matt, who threw his arms around her neck, and then at last she turned to say hello to Mark, but he was staring intently at a young woman behind her. “Let me introduce my daughters to you. This is Jessica.” It was easy to see that they were mother and daughter from the red hair, but it was Valerie who had riveted Mark's attention. “And this is Valerie.”

Both girls said hello quietly, and Mel introduced them both to Peter, as he had to fight not to burst into laughter. His oldest son looked as though he were going to fall into a dead faint at Val's feet, and as he and Mel went to gather their bags he looked at her with a grin and shook his head.

“You were right. I'm not even sure that saltpeter would have made a difference.” The girl had a voluptuous quality that almost defied description, even more so because she appeared so fresh and naive. “You ought to keep her off the streets, Mel.”

“I try, love, I try.” She turned to him then. “How are you? Did the trip go okay?”

“Fine.”

“How's Pam?” She glanced at her out of the corner of her eye and saw that Jessie was talking to her, as Matt stared up at Jess in blatant adoration. “I'd say some of the dynamics are going to work out okay.” Val and Mark were talking animatedly and Pam seemed to be answering Jess, as Jessica took Matt's small hand in her own, and admired the space gun between spurts of conversation with his sister. “They're all good kids, that should help.”

“So is their mother.”

“I love you.” She mouthed silently to him, with her back turned to the children, and he longed to take her in his arms.

“I love you too.” He said it close to her ear, and a porter helped them with their bags. It was a good thing they had a station wagon. With seven of them and the Adamses' bags, the car was crammed to the gills on the way back to the condo. And everyone seemed to be talking at once, even Pam seemed to be slowly coming out of her shell, with Jessica devoting her attention to her.

She didn't even seem to object as vehemently as Peter had feared when he explained the sleeping arrangements. Pam, Jess, and Val would share the room with two sets of bunk beds. It was cramped, but the girls didn't seem to mind it. Pam was actually laughing by then, as Jessica teased her about something. And the two boys shared a room with twin beds, and Peter and Mel each took the two smallest rooms, which both had one single bed. Usually, Peter's children had their own rooms, but this year it had taken a little creative arranging to fit them all in and manage separate bedrooms for himself and Mel, but that was crucial on this first trip with the children.

“Everybody all set?”

“We're fine.” Valerie was quick to answer, looking admiringly at Peter, and later she whispered to her mother. “He's cute,” as Mel laughed. Unfortunately, she also clearly thought his son was. But Mel had already warned her that another romance would only complicate everyone's life for the next two weeks. And Val had dutifully agreed on the flight to Denver, but by the time they were all cooking dinner that night, and she and Mark were in charge of the salad and the baked potatoes, Mel was beginning to lose hope of dashing a potential romance. She only hoped they'd get good and tired of each other in the next two weeks. Val wasn't known for the length of her romances, as Jessica said to Pam with a laugh as they sat near the fire, after she had helped Pam put Matthew to bed. She seemed sensitive to Pam's threatened feelings.

“I don't think Mark has uncrossed his eyes since you two got here.” Peter grinned, appreciating the efforts of the older twin to put his daughter at ease. She seemed like a very special girl, and he remembered much of what Mel had said about her. It was funny to see them now after hearing so much about them, but they were very much as Mel had described, especially Val, whom one could almost imagine as a centerfold in Playboy, instead of a junior in high school. But there was a pleasing innocence about the girl, despite her spectacular body. “I hear you're interested in going to med school, Jess.” Her eyes lit up at his question and Pam looked bored.

“How disgusting.”

“I know.” She looked placatingly at Pam. “Everyone thinks that. I want to be a gynecologist or a pediatrician.”

“They're both good specialties, but very demanding.”

“I want to be a model,” Pam assumed an aloof stance and Jess smiled.

“I wish I could be, but I don't have your looks.” It was not true, but Jessica genuinely believed it. She had lived too long in Val's shadow.

“You can be anything you choose to, Jess.” Mel was sitting by the fire, relaxed, and happy just to be near Peter again. It seemed a thousand years since she had last seen him.

“Anyone for a walk?” Mark bounded into the room with the suggestion, and after working on them all for a while, the whole group agreed, except Matt who was sound asleep in his bed.

“Will he be all right here alone?” Mel looked concerned, and Peter nodded with a smile.

“He'll be fine. He sleeps like a rock. Mountain air does that to him. Anne always said …” He stopped, visibly pale. Mel felt a tremor up her spine. It was odd to be following in Anne's footsteps, to be here with her children now that his wife was no longer alive. She wondered if that was part of Pam's reaction, and made a point of trying to talk to her as they wandered in the cool mountain air, but Pam seemed much more interested in chatting with Jessie, and they walked in three comfortable pairs for about half an hour, Val and Mark, Jessie and Pam, and Melanie and Peter.

“See? It all worked out fine, didn't it?” He sounded supercilious and Mel laughed.

“Don't count your chickens yet. We just got here.”

“Don't be silly. What could happen now?”

She pretended to shield her head from the wrath of the gods, and then glanced at Peter. “Are you kidding? Anything. Let's just hope there are no murders, broken bones, or unwanted pregnancies after this little adventure.”

“Such an optimist you are.” And with that he pulled her behind a tree and kissed her quickly, unseen by the children, and they giggled softly as they began walking again. It felt so good just to be together again, and there was something nice about seeing their children together, no matter what horrors Mel predicted.

They returned at last to the condo, happy, relaxed, tired from their trip and from settling in, and everyone went to their assigned rooms, apparently without problem. Each room had its own bath, so there was no massive lineup to brush teeth, and Mel could hear the girls giggling in their room after the lights were turned out. And she was dying to tiptoe down the hall to Peter, but she didn't think it was wise. Not yet. Not with the children so close. And just as she lay in bed, thinking of their time together in New York, she saw her door open and a shadow cross the room, and she sat up in bed in surprise, just as he slipped beneath her covers.

“Peter!” She was startled to see him.

“How do you know?” He was smiling in the dark and she put her arms around his neck and kissed him.

“You shouldn't… what if the children …”

“Never mind the children … the girls are too busy thinking we don't hear them, and Mark is probably as dead to the world as Matt by now … it's time for us now, kiddo.” He put his arms around her and let his hand slip beneath her nightgown as she fought not to make a sound. “God, how I've missed you.”

But Mel said not a single word, and what she showed him told him that she had missed him too. Their bodies blended in exquisite pleasure for hours, and then, reluctantly, he left her. She tiptoed to the door to kiss him good night and watched him pad softly down the hall. And there was no sound from the children's rooms. They were all sound asleep, and she couldn't remember ever being so happy. She tiptoed back to her bed, which still bore the sweet smell of their passion, and drifted off to sleep, holding her pillow.

CHAPTER 21

The next day they went on a five-mile hike, and picnicked on the way. They stopped beside a small stream, and went wading and Matt caught a snake for Mark, which sent all three of the girls screaming back to Peter and Mel, who laughed at them. But eventually Matthew let the snake go, and they continued their hike until the late afternoon, when they went back to the condo for a swim in the pool, and the kids cavorted like old friends, but Mel noticed that whenever Jessica wasn't talking to Pam, Pam was watching her with Peter.

“They make a nice group, don't they, Mel?”

There was no denying that. A handsome one too. They were all beautiful children, but there was still that unhappy light in Pam's eyes, particularly whenever she saw Mel with her father. Mel was particularly grateful to Jessie for keeping her distracted. And of course Valerie and Mark had been inseparable since breakfast that morning. “They do make a nice group.” Mel agreed with a tired smile. “But one that bears watching.”

“There you go again. What are you worrying about now?” He was amused by her reactions. She seemed to be ever watchful over their joint brood, but he liked that about her too. He could easily see that she was a wonderful mother.

“I'm not worried about anything. But I'm keeping an eye on things.” She grinned, and Peter glanced at Val and Mark.

“I think they're harmless. All that energy and young flesh, but fortunately neither of them is quite sure what to do about it all yet. Next year we might not be as lucky.”

“Oh, Christ”—Mel rolled her eyes—“I hope that's not true. I wish I had married that child off when she was twelve. I don't think I can stand watching her for another four or five years.”

“I don't think you really have to. She's an awfully nice girl.”

Mel nodded, but she looked cautious. “But much too trusting. She's an entirely different character than Jessie.”

He nodded in agreement. He had seen that already. “Pam seems to be very fond of Jess.”

“She's good with younger kids.”

“I know.” He smiled happily, it was the happiest he had been in two years. “Matt adores her.” And then he lowered his voice and bent near Mel's ear. “And I adore you. Do you suppose we could stay here forever?”

“I'd love it.” But that wasn't entirely true either. She missed their time alone in New York. Here, she was not free to be herself. She had to keep an eye on the children, and she wasn't afraid to put her foot down when she had to. She let the four older ones go to the movies that night, while she and Peter stayed home with Matt, but when Mark and Val wanted to go out alone after they'd brought Jessie and Pam home, Mel vetoed the idea without question. “It wouldn't be nice to the others, you two. We're here as a group.” And there were other reasons, which she didn't want to go into. Reasons why she kept a close vigil on every day, as they went for walks, and rode horses, and had picnics in fields full of flowers. There was something so natural and sensual about it all, in their tight T-shirts, and short shorts, and skimpy bathing suits, with the fresh mountain air, and the constant proximity in the condo. She had never seen Val quite so taken with any boy, and it worried her more than she admitted to Peter. She said something to Jess about it when they were alone one day, and Jessie had noticed it too.

“You think she's okay, Mom?” There was a strong bond between the twins, and Jessica always worried about her sister.

“I do. But I think she bears watching.”

“Do you think she …” Jessie felt uncomfortable accusing her sister to her mother.” I don't think she'd …”

Mel smiled.” I don't think she would either, but I think it's easy to get carried away in fields of wild flowers, with snow on the mountains, or at night if you're alone. I think Mark is more intense than a lot of the boys she's used to. And I just want to be sure that she doesn't do anything foolish. I don't really think she would though, Jess.”

“She's not saying much to me this time, Mom,” and that was very unusual for Val. Usually she told Jess everything that happened in her life, particularly what concerned boys. But about Mark she was strangely quiet.

“Maybe she thinks it's more serious than it is. First love.” Mel smiled again.

“Just so she doesn't do anything stupid.”

“She won't.” Mel looked confident in both her own vigil and her daughter's wisdom. “What about Pam? How do you think she is, Jess?” She trusted her daughter's judgment almost more than anyone else's, except now maybe Peter's, and he was hardly objective about his only daughter.

“I don't think she's a really happy kid, to say the least. We've talked about a lot of stuff, and she opens up a lot sometimes, and other times she's all locked up. I think she really misses her mother. Maybe more than the others. Mark is older, and Matthew was pretty little when she died, but Pam feels ripped off. She gets angry at her father sometimes about it.”

“Is that what she said, Jess?” Mel's voice was soft and filled with concern.

“More or less. I think mostly she's just confused. It's not an easy age, Mom.” Jessica looked older and wiser than her years as she spoke and Mel was touched by it.

“I know. And you've been nice to her. Thank you, Jess.”

“I like her.” She said it honestly. “She's a real bright kid. A little screwed up sometimes, but smart as hell. I invited her to come and see us in New York sometime, and she said yes.” Mel looked surprised. “Would you mind that?”

“Not at all. All the Hallams are welcome anytime they'd like.”

Jess fell silent for a moment and then looked at her mother. “What's happening with you and Dr. Hallam, Mom?”

“Not much. We're good friends.” But she felt as though Jessica already knew much more. “I like him, Jess.”

“A lot?” Jessica searched Mel's eyes, and she knew she had to be honest with the child.

“Yes.”

“Are you in love with him?”

Mel held her breath. What did those words mean? What did Jess want to know? The truth, Mel told herself. Only that. She had to tell her the truth. “Yes, I think I am.” Jessica looked as though she had received a physical blow.

“Oh.”

“Are you surprised?”

“Sort of yes and sort of no. I suspected it before, but I wasn't sure. It's different when you actually hear someone else say it.” And then she sighed and looked at Mel. “I like him.”

“I'm glad.”

“Do you think you two will get married?”

But this time Mel shook her head. “No, I don't.”

“Why not?”

“Because our lives are too far apart. I can't quit my job and move to L.A. and he can't move to New York. And we both have too much keeping us where we are.”

“That's sad.” Jessica searched her eyes. “If you lived in the same town, do you think you'd get married?”

“I don't know. It can't be an issue for us. So it's nice to enjoy whatever time we have.” Mel reached out and touched her daughter's hand. “I love you, Jess.”

She smiled. “I love you too, Mom. And I'm glad we came after all. I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time before.”

“That's okay. I'm glad it all worked out.”

“Am I interrupting anything?” Peter wandered into the room and saw them both, and the two of them holding hands, but Mel shook her head.

“We just had a nice talk.”

“That's nice.” He seemed pleased and smiled at Jess. “Where's everyone else?”

“I don't know.” It was about five o'clock and Mel had just come back from the store when she started talking to Jess. She assumed the other kids were at the pool, as they had been at that hour, every day for the past week.

“Val and Mark took a walk with Matt.”

“They did?” Mel was surprised. “Then where's Pam?”

“In our room, asleep. She had a headache this afternoon. I thought you knew.” But Mel still looked surprised, and Peter patted her arm.

“Mark will take good care of Val and Matt. Don't worry about them, Mel.” But when they weren't back at seven o'clock, Mel was seriously concerned, and Peter didn't look as confident as he had before.

He stopped in to see Jess and Pam in their room. “D o you know where they went?” Jessica shook her head and Pam looked blank.

“I was asleep when they left.”

He nodded and went back to Mel. It was still light outside but he wanted to have a look around. “I'll be back in a little while.” But when he didn't come back in an hour either, Mel was as frightened as the girls.

“What do you suppose happened, Mom?” Jessica whispered. Pam was sitting white-faced in their room.

“I don't know, love. Peter will find them.” But on the hillsides behind the house, he was wandering aimlessly, having abandoned the trails, calling out their names. And it was dark when he found Val and Mark at last, scratched and frightened and alone.

“Where's Matt?” He spoke directly to his son, with fear and tension in his voice, as he noticed that Val's face was covered with tears and scratches.

Mark looked as though he were about to cry too. “We don't know.”

“When did you see him last?” Peter felt his jaw go tense.

“About two or three hours ago. We were just walking along and then all of a sudden we turned around, and he wasn't there.” Val began to cry incoherently giving her version of the tale, and Peter saw that Mark was still holding her hand and he began to suspect what had happened and why they had lost track of Matthew.

“Were you two making out?” He was blunt with the words, which only made Val cry more, and sheepishly Mark hung his head, but not before his father's hand cracked across his face. “You little sonofabitch, you had a responsibility to your brother if you took him out with you!”

“I know, Dad.” Tears began to slide down his face now, but the next hour of their search yielded nothing more, and Peter led them back to the trail they had left, and back to the condo far down the mountainside. They had to call the sheriff and begin the search for Matthew. He found Mel pale-faced with the girls, and when he returned with only Val and Mark, the three girls burst into tears. He went quickly to the phone with Mel at his side, and the search party arrived in less than half an hour, with ropes and stretchers, a paramedic team, and enormous search lights.

“We'll take helicopters up tomorrow, if we don't find him tonight.” But Peter didn't want him out alone all night, and he was already terrified that the child might have fallen into a ravine, and broken a leg or worse. He could be unconscious somewhere. Peter left with the other men, and the girls stayed with Mel and Mark below. The youth was crying openly now, as Mel tried to reassure him, but there was no way of soothing the guilt he felt and Mel had managed to say almost nothing to Val. It was well after ten o'clock by now, and there was still no sight of the child, as suddenly Pam exploded at Val and shrieked at her.

“It's all your fault, you horny bitch, if you hadn't been out fucking Mark, my little brother wouldn't have gotten lost.” To which Val found no response, and she collapsed in Jessie's arms, sobbing hysterically, and it was only then that Mel heard a shout and a bleat of horns well up the mountainside; lights were flashed and it seemed moments later when the entire crew came down, victorious, with Matthew in their arms, and Peter Fighting back tears of relief as he waved at them.

“Is he all right?” Mel ran to Peter's side, and the tears escaped his eyes at last. He stood there for a long time, holding her, as he sobbed. Matthew was still a little ways behind in the arms of one of the sheriff's men. They had found him just outside a cave, frightened and cold and unharmed. He said he had wandered off by himself for a little while, and gotten lost. And he claimed to have seen a bear.

“Oh, Mel”—Peter couldn't let go of her— “I thought we'd lose him too.”

She nodded, tears pouring down her own face. “Thank God he's all right.” And then she saw him being carried into their midst again, filthy dirty, his face scratched and his clothes torn, and she could see that he had fallen a few times, but he looked very excited to be with the sheriffs men and he was wearing someone's hat. Mel scooped him into her arms and held him there. “You scared us to death, Matt.”

“I'm okay, Mel.” He looked suddenly very grown-up and brave.

“I'm glad.” She kissed his cheek and handed him to his father then, who thanked all of the sheriffs men, and at last they all went back inside and collapsed in the living room. Mark was hugging his little brother to his chest, and Valerie was still crying but she was smiling now as well, and even Pam had cried with relief, and now everyone fussed over him, and it was midnight before they all settled down, and Pam had apologized to Val, and Mark had sworn that they would never go off alone again. And as they all sat by the fire, finishing the hamburgers that Mel had made for them all, Peter addressed them.

“I want one thing clear right now. I think tonight has taught us all something.” He looked pointedly at Val and Mark, and then Matt, and then at Jessica and Pam. “We can all have a wonderful time while we're here. But you can't kid around, you can get lost in the woods, you can get bitten by snakes and God knows what. And I want you each to feel responsible for the rest of the group. From now on, I want to see all five of you together or not at all. If anyone goes somewhere, the rest of you go too. Is that clear?” He looked pointedly at his oldest son, who nodded his head with a look of agony. He had been so intent on getting his tongue into Val's mouth and his hand up her shorts, that he had entirely forgotten Matthew. And when they had caught their breath again, he was gone. “If I see anyone paired off here, they're going home that day, and I don't care who it is.” But they all knew he meant Val and Mark. “Now I want everyone to go to bed and get some sleep, it's been a tough night for everyone.” They were quick to disband and go to their rooms, but there was a new camaraderie between them now, Mel noticed that Val was closer to Jess again, and Pam to Mark, and even Pam to Val, and Matt was closer to everyone who had feared that he was lost for good. It had been a good lesson for them all, but a terror that Mel and Peter didn't need to go through.

“Christ, Mel, I thought I'd die out there on that hill with no goddamn sign of him.” He lay in her bed that night, thinking of it all again and she held him close against her and felt him tremble in her arms.

“It's all over, my love. He's safe, and it won't happen again.”

They didn't even make love that night. They held each other close, and Mel lay awake beside him for most of the night, watching him sleep until the sky lit up with the first light of dawn. She woke him gently then, and he went back to his own bed, and then she slept at last. But all she thought of all night was how much she loved him, and Pam, and Mark, and Matt, and how desperately she wanted nothing awful to happen to any of them again. It was the first time she had realized how much she loved them all, and how deeply they were lodged in her heart now. And when they all awoke the next day, they truly seemed like one family. The five children became inseparable from that moment on, and although Mel frequently saw Mark holding Val's hand, or looking into her eyes with that special glance that lit up her face, they never went off alone again and the remaining week slid by them much too quickly.

On their last night there, Peter took them all out, and they had a wonderful time, laughing and talking like old friends. To look at them one would never have known that they hadn't grown up under one roof, and no one would have believed the extent to which they had fought the trip at first. Peter smiled over at Mel several times. It had been a perfect vacation, despite that one ghastly night of looking for Matt, but even that seemed to be forgotten now.

They all sat by the fire until late that night, even Matt, who finally fell asleep on Jessica's lap, and she put him in his bed with Pam's help. And when they all parted at last that night, it was with regret to end their happy time, and Mel and Peter lay awake for hours that night, both of them sad to be leaving.

“I can't believe I'm leaving you again.” He was leaning on one elbow, looking down at her, after they'd made love.

“It can't be helped.” And then suddenly she had a thought, and she looked at him with a hopeful smile.

“Why don't you all spend the Labor Day weekend at Martha's Vineyard with us?”

“That's a hell of a long trip for three days, Mel.” He looked dubious, but he wanted to cling to any hope he could.

“Then stay a week.” Stay a month … stay a year …

“I can't.”

“But the kids could.” It seemed like a great idea to her. “Pam and Matt could. Mark will be through his job around then too. He could fly back for the weekend with you. The other two could come ahead.”

“It's a thought.” He smiled at her, not really thinking of the kids just then, but only of her. He wanted desperately to stay with her, but there was no way they could. “I love you so much, Mel.”

“I love you too.” And they lay back in each other's arms again and made love on and off until the dawn. They both looked depressed the next morning when they got up in their separate rooms. There would be no lovemaking again that night, no long walks in the woods or in fields of flowers. It was time to go home again. Back to reality, and clinging to him on the phone. But she brought up her idea for Labor Day and the kids cheered. “That does it then.” She looked victoriously at Peter and he laughed. He looked happy about the vacation too.

“All right. You win. We'll come.”

“Hurray!” You could hear their shouts halfway up the mountainside, and they chattered all the way from Aspen to Denver on the flight. The kids sat in one row straight across, and Peter and Mel sat alone for the last time. And in Denver, everybody cried, and Peter looked into Mel's eyes and whispered to her.

“I love you, Mel. Don't ever forget that.”

“Remember that I love you too.” The kids pretended not to watch, but Val and Mark smiled, and Pam turned away so as not to see, but she and Jessica were holding hands, which gave Pam some comfort. And Matt gave Mel a great big good-bye kiss.

“I love you, Mel!”

“I love you too.” She tore her eyes from his, and kissed each of the children, and told Pam, looking into her eyes. “Take good care of your dad.” She wanted to add “for me.”

“I will.” There was a new gentleness in Pam's voice, and they were all subdued as they went their separate ways and Matthew cried openly as his father led him to their plane.

“I want them to come with us.”

“You'll be seeing them again soon.”

“When?”

“In a few weeks, Matt.” Peter glanced at Mark then and saw a dreamy expression on his face. He wondered just how much had happened between him and Val but figured that it couldn't be much. And on the plane that left for Boston at the same time as the flight to L.A., Jessica and Val barely spoke, and Mel looked out the window seeing nothing there except a vision of Peter's face. Three weeks till Labor Day seemed endless to her, and then what? An endless year until Aspen again? It was madness they had inflicted on themselves, but Mel knew, as well as Peter did on the flight to L. A., that for them it was too late to turn back now.

CHAPTER 22

The weeks at Martha's Vineyard seemed to drag by for them all once they returned from Aspen. It was nothing like their time there in July, when they threw themselves wholeheartedly into the amusement of the summer. Instead, once they got back, Val seemed to spend all her time staring into space, and Mel spent most of hers on the phone, and Jessica teased them both.

“Boy, you two sure are a lot of fun.” Valerie almost killed herself getting to the mailbox every day to check for letters from Mark, and each time Mel left the house she would come back and casually ask, “Anyone call?” and both girls would laugh. Only Raquel seemed to treat it all like a serious illness that had descended on their home. She warned them all that in six months … they'd see! She never finished her warnings, but they sounded ominous to everyone, and Mel always listened to her with amusement.

“Now, Raquel, relax!”

“This time it's serious, Mrs. Mel.”

“Yes, it is. But serious and terminal aren't the same.”

Grant called too to say hello. He was madly in love with the weather girl on Channel 5, and there was also a cute little redheaded female jockey in White Plains, not to mention some staggeringly sexy Cuban girl. Mel teased him about it and told him to act his age, and she finally told him about Peter, or rather the girls did. And he sounded hurt when Mel got back on the phone.

“You couldn't have told me yourself? I thought we were friends.”

“We are, but I needed time to think this thing out.”

Grant sounded surprised. “Is it as serious as that?”

“It could be, but we haven't solved the problem of distance yet.”

“Distance?” And then suddenly, all the pieces fell into place. “You little minx, it's the heart surgeon on the West Coast, isn't it?”

She grinned like a little kid and giggled into the phone.

“You jerk. Now what are you going to do? You're here, he's there.”

“I haven't figured that out yet.”

“What's to figure out, Mel? You've done it again, found yourself the ‘Impossible Dream.’ Neither of you is going to quit your job for chrissake, and you're both anchored where you are. My friend, you've done it again. You're playing it safe.”

His words depressed her long after she got off the phone, and she spent days wondering if what he said was true. Was she really involved in just another impossible romance?

As if to validate her feelings she dialed Peter in California.

He was excited about Marie's progress, he had seen her that day and she was doing very well. And Mel found herself praying that no new transplant patient would come on the scene in the next week, or he wouldn't be able to fly east for the Labor Day weekend.

He reported that Pam and Matt were ready for the trip east, and Matthew was so excited he could hardly see straight.

“What about Pam?”

“She's more outwardly subdued than Matt, but she's just as excited as he is.”

“So are the girls. They can hardly wait until they get here.” They had made dozens of plans to include Pam, and Mel was going to take charge of Matthew. Even Raquel was excited about the prospective visits, although she pretended to complain about the extra work. And they had spent hours trying to work out the sleeping arrangements. They had finally decided that Mark would sleep on a sleeping bag on the living room couch. Pam would sleep on a rollaway bed in the twins' room, Matt would sleep in the twin bed in Raquel's, and when he came, Peter would have the guest room. It had taken some doing, but the house would accommodate them all.

When Pam and Matthew arrived, there was an aura of festivity throughout the whole house, and all the children went down on the beach as Mel watched them join the others they met there every day. The boy Val had discovered at the beginning of the summer no longer held an interest for her, and there were half a dozen madly in love with Jess, who wouldn't give any of them the time of day. One or two of them thought Pam a remarkably attractive girl, and no one could believe she was only fourteen. She was so tall and she looked so much older, and for the whole week, Mel was happy with her brood of four and reported to Peter twice a day.

“I wish you'd hurry up and get here.”

“So do I. And Mark is practically catatonic with anticipation.” But the night before they were due to leave L.A. the whole trip almost went down the drain. A young woman came in with rejection of the transplant that had been done four months before, and a severe infection. Mel heard the news with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she didn't press Peter about the trip, or urge him to leave the woman in the care of his very capable colleagues. And as it turned out, the poor woman died before morning. He called Mel about it very depressed the next day.

“There was nothing we could do.” But it always depressed him anyway.

“I'm sure there wasn't. It'll do you good to get away now.”

“I guess it will.” But it took some of the shine out of the trip for him, and he was quiet as he and Mark flew to Boston. But on the second leg of the trip, he seemed to revive and he and Mark chatted about Mel and her daughters.

“They're really nice, Dad.” Mark blushed as he tried to sound nonchalant, and Peter smiled at his son.

“I'm glad you think so, I think so too.” It was going to be wonderful to see her again, and suddenly it was all he could think of as the small plane landed on the narrow airstrip, and he hastened off the plane behind Mark, who was practically jet propelled, out the door, and down the rickety metal stairway, and then he came to a screeching halt in front of Val, not sure whether to shake hands or kiss her or just say hi. He stood there stumbling over his own feet and blushing furiously as Val did the same, and Peter pulled Mel into his arms with a ferocious grip and held her, and then he dutifully kissed Pam, and Jess and Val, and then Matt, and then Val and Mark headed toward the baggage claim together, and Peter saw Mark stealthily take her hand and he grinned at Mel.

“There they go again.”

She smiled, glancing at the two lovebirds far ahead. “At least here they can't get lost in the mountains.” But they seemed to go off in a sailboat much of the time over the Labor Day weekend, and Peter had to remind them again about the group rules he had insisted on in Aspen.

“The same rules apply here.”

“Oh, Dad.” It was Mark who objected, almost whining as he hadn't in years, but he wanted so much to be alone with Val. They had so much to tell each other. “We just want to talk.”

“Then do it with the others.”

“Yuck.” Pam rolled her eyes and held her nose. “You should hear the junk they say to each other.” But Mel had noticed that there was a fourteen-year-old boy from down the beach whom Pam had not found particularly “yucky.” Only Jess and Matthew seemed to have maintained their sanity by the end of the weekend. Jessica was already thinking ahead to the first day of school, and Matt was so happy with Mel and his father that he was no trouble at all. He had longed for that kind of security for years, without actually understanding what was missing. And Peter chuckled at Raquel, who obviously approved of him and spent a lot of time telling him how lucky he was to have Mel, how all she'd needed was a good man, and what she needed now was to get married. Mel was horrified when he told her as they lay on the beach on Sunday.

“Are you kidding? She said that?”

“She did. Maybe she's right. Maybe that is what you need. A good husband, to keep you barefoot and pregnant.” He seemed amused by it all, and even more so to watch the children living out their end-of-summer madness. He was keeping a good eye on Mark. He didn't want him getting out of line with Val, and he could see that their hormones were pumping furiously throughout the weekend. Peter turned back to Mel then, remembering what Raquel had said. “What do you say to that?”

“I'm sure the network would be thrilled.” She was amused at the suggestion, but didn't consider it a real threat. All she cared about right now was being with him for the weekend. She'd think about the future later, about what they would do about seeing each other again, and when. And then she remembered something else. “You just reminded me. I have to call my lawyer after the Labor Day weekend.”

“How come?”

“My contract is up in October, and I like getting started nice and early outlining what I want for the next one.” He admired the way she handled her work. In fact, there was a lot more than that he admired about her.

“You must be able to call your own shots by now.”

“To some extent. Not entirely. But anyway, I want to sit down with him sometime in the next couple of weeks and see what he thinks.”

Peter grinned, in a silly mood, the end-of-summer madness was beginning to touch them all. “Why don't you just quit?”

“And do what?” She didn't find the idea quite as funny as he did.

“Move to California.”

“And sell tacos on the beach?”

“No, this may come as a shock to you, but we have television there now too. We even have news.” He was smiling and she thought he had never looked more handsome.

“Do you? How intriguing.” But she didn't take the suggestion seriously for a moment until he reached out and touched her arm, and she saw that he was looking at her strangely.

“You know, you could do that.”

“What?” A chill ran down her spine despite the brilliant sunshine and hot weather.

“Quit and move to California. Someone would put you on the air there.”

She sat up very straight and stared down at him lying in the sand. “Do you have any idea how many years it took me to get where I am here at the network? Do you have even the remotest idea of what Buffalo was like at twenty below, or Chicago? I worked my ass off for this job, and I'm not giving it up now, so please don't joke about it, Peter. Ever.” She was still upset when she lay down in the sand beside him again. She didn't find the suggestion even remotely amusing. “Why don't you give up your practice and start fresh in New York?”

She saw that he was looking at her intently, and she was sorry her tone had been as sharp. He looked hurt. “I would if I could, Mel. I'd do anything to be near you.” And the accusation was that she wouldn't, which wasn't fair.

“Do you understand that it's no easier for me?” Her voice was gentler now. “Leaving New York would be a step down for me now, wherever I went.”

“Even to L.A.?” He looked suddenly depressed. Their situation was hopeless.

“Even to L.A.” And then after a moment's silence when they both stared out to sea licking their wounds, “We'll just have to find some way to be together.”

“What do you suggest? Weekends in Kansas City?” This time it was Peter who sounded angry and bitter, and he looked down at her now with fire in his blue eyes. “What do you think this will be when it grows up, Mel? A holiday romance? We meet for long weekends with our kids?”

“I don't know what to suggest. I can fly to L.A., you know, and you can come here.”

“You know how rarely I can leave my patients.” And she couldn't leave the girls all the time, and they both knew it.

“So what are you telling me? That I should give up now? Is that what you want?” Suddenly, she was frightened by the gist of their conversation. “I don't have the answers, Peter.”

“Well, neither do I. And something tells me you don't want to find them.”

“That's not true. But the reality is that we both have important jobs at opposite ends of the country, and neither one of us can just dump what we're doing and move, nor would we want to. And we're not ready to yet, anyway.”

“Aren't we?” He looked angry again. “Why not?”

“Because we've only known each other for four months, and I don't know about you, but that doesn't seem like very long to me.”

“I'd have married Anne five minutes after I met her and I was right.”

“That was Anne.” She was shouting at him now, but they were alone on the beach. The children had all gone to play volleyball somewhere else and Matt was with Raquel looking for seashells. “I'm not Anne, Peter, I'm me. And I'm not going to follow in her goddamn footsteps. Even if you did take me to Aspen, which is where you went with her every year.”

“So what, dammit. Didn't you like it?”

“Yes, I did. But only after I overcame the creepy feeling I had every time I thought that you'd been over every inch of that place with her, and probably even slept in the same bed.”

He was on his feet now and so was she. “It may interest you to know that this time I ordered a different condo. I'm not as totally insensitive as you seem to think, Miss Adams.” And after that they both stood very still, and suddenly Mel hung her head.

“I'm sorry … I didn't mean to hurt you …” She looked up at him again then. “It's difficult, sometimes, knowing how attached you were to her.”

Peter pulled her slowly toward him. “I was married to her for eighteen years, Mel.”

“I know … but I feel like I'm always being compared to her. The perfect wife. The Perfect Woman. And I'm not perfect. I'm me.”

“Who compares you?” He looked shocked. He had never said anything like that. But he hadn't had to.

Mel shrugged as they sat very close on the sand again. “You … the children … maybe Mrs. Hahn.”

Peter was watching her very closely. “You don't like Mrs. Hahn, do you? Why?”

“Maybe because she was Anne's. Or because she's so cold. I don't think she likes me either.” Mel smiled, thinking of Raquel, and Peter laughed, knowing what she was thinking.

“No, she certainly isn't Raquel, but no one is. Except Raquel herself.” He had come to like her too, but he wasn't sure he could live with her loose tongue in his household. He liked Mrs. Harm's restraint and the way she controlled the children. Raquel was more like a friend with a mop in one hand, and a microphone in the other.

“Were you serious about me moving to California, Peter?” She looked worried as she asked, and slowly he shook his head.

“I guess not. Just dreaming. I know you can't give up your job here. I wouldn't want you to anyway. But I wish there were a way we could be together. This is going to be a terrible strain commuting back and forth.” Grant's words echoed in her ears … dead end … dead end … And she didn't want it to be.

“I know it's a strain to come here. I'll do my best to come to L.A. as much as I can.”

“So will I.” But they both knew that she would do most of the commuting. There was just no other way. She could leave the twins more easily than he could leave his patients, and sometimes she could bring them too. And as though to illustrate the point, he got a call late Sunday night. One of his old transplant patients had had a major heart attack, and he gave all the suggestions he could over the phone. But the transplant had been two years before, and the man's chances weren't great, whether Peter was there or not, but he stayed awake all night, worrying about his patient, and feeling that he should have been there with him. “I have a responsibility to these people, Mel. It doesn't just end when I pull off the mask and gown after the surgery. It goes on, as long as they live. At least that's how I feel.”

“That's why you're good at what you do.” Mel sat next to him on the porch, hugging her knees as they watched the sun come up, and an hour later they got the call from L.A. that his patient had died. They took a long walk on the beach then, saying little, and Mel held his hand, and when they came back to the house he felt better. It was all that he would miss when he went back to L.A. again. He needed her with him.

Monday was their last day together at the Vineyard. The kids had plans for the entire day, and Raquel was busy cleaning up before they closed the house. Mel had encouraged everyone to pack the day before so they didn't have to waste their last day packing. And they had already decided that they wouldn't leave until Tuesday morning. Peter and his children would leave as they had come, on a seven A.M. flight out of the Vineyard, which coordinated with a nine A.M. flight to Los Angeles from Boston, which arrived in the morning in L.A. The time difference worked in their favor, and Peter could go straight to the hospital and do rounds, after dropping the kids off at home. Pam and Matthew didn't start school until the following week and Mark had three weeks before he started college.

And Mel and the twins would take the ferry to Woods Hole, drive to Boston, return their rented car, and then fly to New York, getting to their home actually later than the group flying to L.A. But as they contemplated leaving on Monday night, there was silence. It was sad to be leaving each other again, they were really a group now. Pam was the first to express her sorrow to be leaving, and Mark quickly seconded his sister's view, holding tightly to Valerie's hand, a sight they were all beginning to get used to.

“Can't you ever pry those two apart?” Peter was still mildly worried, but Mel was beginning to relax about it as they lay in bed on their last night.

“They're all right. I think the less fuss we make, the quicker they'll get bored with it.”

“Just so no one gets pregnant.”

“Don't worry. I'm keeping an eye on Val, and so is Jess. And frankly, I think Mark is a very responsible boy. I don't think he'd take advantage of Val. Not even if she tempted him, which I'm praying she won't.”

“I hope you're not overestimating him, Mel.” He put an arm around her shoulders and thought back over the weekend. And then he looked at her with a tender smile. “So when do you come to L.A.?”

“I go back to work in two days, let me see what's happening there and we'll talk about it. Maybe weekend after next, or the weekend after that?” She sounded hopeful, but he looked depressed.

“That's practically October.”

“I'll do my best.”

He nodded, not wanting to argue with her, but her best still wasn't going to be what he wanted. He wanted her there all the time and he couldn't see how he was going to get that. And he wasn't ready to give her up either. Suddenly in the last month he had come to feel that he couldn't live without her. He knew that was crazy, but it was how he felt. He needed her near him to share the joys and burdens of his daily life, the funny things said by Matt, the patients who died, the tears shed by Pam, the beauty, the traumas, all of it. It meant nothing without her, but there was no way that he could take her to L.A. with him. And as they made love that night he wanted to drink her spirit and swallow her soul and remember every nook and cranny of her body.

“Sure you won't come with me?” he whispered before he boarded the plane to Boston.

“I wish I could. But I'll be there soon.”

“I'll call you tonight.” But just the idea of having to call her again, and not see her, depressed him. He had finally found the woman he wanted and he couldn't have her, not because another man did, but because a network thought they owned her, and worse yet, she liked it. And yet he knew that she loved him. It was a lousy situation, but he hoped that in time something would happen to resolve it. He smiled to himself. Maybe she would decide that she couldn't live without him. “I love you, Mel.”

“I love you more,” she whispered, and out of the corner of their eyes they saw Val and Mark kissing and holding each other tight, and Pam made a horrible face.

“Yuck. They're disgusting.” But the boy she had liked on the beach had come to say good-bye to her, and she blushed furiously as she said good-bye to him. Only Matt was left out of the romantic scene, and everyone kissed him good-bye half a dozen times, Raquel, Mel, the twins. And then Mel and Peter kissed again.

“Come out soon.”

“I promise.”

The two tribes waved as the California contingent boarded the small plane unsuccessfully trying not to shed tears en masse, and then the Adamses got into their car and drove toward the ferry, the twins waving handkerchiefs and crying openly, as Mel tried to conceal her aching heart.

CHAPTER 23

The interview that Melanie had done of Peter when they met aired the first week in September and was hailed as one of the most extraordinary documentaries that had been done in the history of television. Everyone felt sure that Mel would win an award for it, and suddenly everyone seemed to be talking about Dr. Peter Hallam. And better yet, since the surgery, Pattie Lou Jones had bloomed. There was a brief film clip of a follow-up on her.

Everyone in L.A. called to tell Peter again and again what a marvelous interview it was, and what a breakthrough for heart transplants and greater public acceptance of them. But repeatedly, Peter gave Mel the credit, and said what a remarkable job she'd done. So much so that when she finally came out to Los Angeles for the last weekend in September, everyone in the hospital seemed to treat her like an old friend, as did Matthew and Mark; Pam still showed a little reserve, and Mrs. Hahn was no friendlier than she had been before.

“It's almost like coming home, Peter.” She smiled happily as he drove her to her hotel. She was staying at the Bel-Air, because it was close to his house and she liked the seclusion, and he was spending the night with her and they could hardly wait. They felt like two kids sneaking off to a hotel, and Mel giggled at the thought. He was going to tell the children the next day that he had stayed at the hospital with a patient, but all his medical contacts knew where he was, in case he was needed during the night. “It's so good to be back.” She strutted around the large cheerful room, peeled off her dress, and sat happily in her slip looking at Peter. It had been three and a half weeks since she'd seen him, but she just hadn't been able to come out sooner, no matter how lonely she'd been for him. And she was. There had been one emergency at the station, Jessica had gotten sick, and it had taken more time than she had thought to reorganize their life in the fall. It always did, but this year she was in more of a hurry than usual. She was absolutely desperate to get to L.A. to be with him.

“It's so good to see you, Mel. It's awful being three thousand miles apart.”

“I know.” But there was no solution to that, and they both knew it. They ordered room service and enjoyed staying in their room alone, and they had already made love once when Peter asked her how the sketching of the new contract was going. “We know what we want at least. The question now is will we get it.” It was a bit like his own plight with her and he smiled, and kissed her softly on the lips.

“They're crazy if they don't give you everything you want. You're the best thing they've got and they know it.”

Mel smiled at the lavish praise. “Maybe I should have you negotiating this instead of my attorney.”

“When do you start actually negotiating this?”

“In about two weeks.”

He looked sad, but almost resigned now. “That means I don't see you for another month, I imagine.”

She couldn't deny that. Contract negotiation was a tense time for her, and she wanted to be on hand every moment. She wouldn't be in the mood to go anywhere, not even to see him. “Can you come east?”

He shook his head. “I doubt it. We've done two heart transplant patients in the last month”—she knew that much already—“and we're waiting to do another heart-lung. I'm not going to be able to go anywhere for quite a while.”

“Able,” she reminded him, “but not willing. There's a difference.” But she understood the reasons why. They were both trapped by their jobs and their lives and their children. It was crazy, it was almost like being married to separate people, and they had to take what they could while they could get it.

Mel didn't even see his children again until Sunday afternoon, the night before she took the red eye. But they had stayed almost in hiding at the Bel-Air. They wanted to be alone every moment they possibly could, and Mel thought it was best if they didn't see too much of the children. She could already sense that now that Pam was back on her own turf, she was not as warm to Mel. She felt more secure here, and she had her father to herself again. But the boys hadn't changed. Mark pumped her for every possible bit of news of Val, and all Matthew wanted to do was sit on her lap and hug her. The afternoon and evening went too quickly, and it seemed only hours after she arrived that she was back at the airport with Peter, waiting for her plane, with tears in her eyes. She didn't want to leave him, but she had to.

“It's a crazy life we lead, isn't it?”

“It is.” His pager went off then and he rushed to a nearby phone. There was a problem with one of his transplants, and he had to leave at once. For a second, it reminded him of the night he had operated on Marie, and had called Mel at the airport just before she got on the plane. But this time she wasn't invited, and she wasn't on a story, and she had to get back to New York by the next morning. He couldn't even wait for her flight. He had to kiss her then, and run down the long terminal hall, turning to wave once or twice before he disappeared, and she was left alone. It was a bitch having two careers as demanding as theirs, she thought to herself as she boarded the plane in first class, and she decided that if anyone asked for an autograph she would break their arm. She wasn't in the mood to be nice to anyone, but fortunately no one spoke to her from Los Angeles to New York, and she walked into her house at six thirty the next morning, feeling tired and depressed. When she called Peter at the hospital, at seven A.M. his time, she was told that he had just gone back into surgery. It was a lonely existence for both of them, but it couldn't be helped. And as it turned out, she didn't get back out to see him at all in October. The negotiations for the new contract were going hot and heavy.

“Have you forgotten me entirely, or is there any hope for the coming month?” Peter was beginning to complain daily on the phone, and Mel thought that if she saw another flowery envelope from Mark to Val she would scream. He must have bought her every corny card in the state of California by then, and it drove her crazy, but Val loved it.

“I promise, I'll be out this month.”

“That's what you said last month.”

“It's the damn contract, besides which, you know I worked two weekends.” When the Soviet premier and his wife had arrived for an unexpected visit, Mel had been dispatched to Washington, D.C., to interview the Russian counterpart of America's First Lady, and she had actually liked her. And the following weekend she had done a follow-up interview on the President's recovery. “I can't help it, Peter.”

“I know, but I have no one else to bitch at about it.”

She smiled. There were times when she felt the same way about his patients. “I promise. I'll be out next weekend.” And she kept her word, but he spent most of it in surgery with Marie, who was suddenly failing. They had operated on her twice in the past month, but she was having every possible complication typical of transplants. And Mel spent most of the weekend shopping and taking his children out. She took Pam with her when she shopped for the girls, and they had lunch at the Polo Lounge at the Beverly Hills Hotel, which Pam loved although she didn't admit it, and her eyes grew as wide as saucers whenever someone approached Mel for an autograph, which they did four or five times before lunch was over. And after that she took Matt to a movie. And finally on Sunday, she got some time with Peter, but he was distracted, listening for the phone with one ear, and thinking about Marie the entire time.

“You know, if she weren't so damn sick, I'd be jealous.” She tried to joke with him about it, but neither of them was really in the mood.

“She's a very sick girl, Mel.”

“I know she is. But it's hard sharing you with her, when we wait so long between visits.” But that reminded him of something he'd been meaning to ask her.

“What about Thanksgiving?”

“What about it?” She looked blank.

“I've been wanting to ask you if you and the girls would come out here. We do a traditional Thanksgiving every year, and we'd all love to have you. It would make it a real family event for us.”

“That's about three weeks away, isn't it?” He consulted his calendar and nodded. “Then we should have closed the contract by then.”

“Is everything determined by that, Mel, even Thanksgiving?” He looked upset and she tried to soothe his ruffled feathers with a kiss.

“It puts a lot of pressure on me, that's all. But we should have wrapped it up by then.”

“Then you'll come?”

“Yes.” He looked first thrilled, then worried.

“What if the contract doesn't close before Thanksgiving?”

“Then I'll come anyway. What do you think I am? A monster?”

“No, a damn busy woman. And too important by half!”

“Do you love me in spite of that?” Now and then she worried that it would get to him and he'd throw in the towel. It was something she had always worried about, that success would cost her the love of a decent man like him.

But he put his arms around her now and held her close. “I love you more than ever.” And tonight when he took her to the plane he stayed until it took off.

When she told Jess and Val the next morning, Valerie gave a squeal of delight and rushed upstairs to dash off a note to Mark before she left for school as Mel stared at the stairs in annoyance and then addressed herself to her oldest daughter.

“Doesn't she think of anything else anymore?”

“Hardly ever,” Jessica answered honestly.

“I can't wait to see her grades at mid-term.” Jessica didn't say a word, she knew just how bad they were going to be. The constant letter writing to Mark had taken its toll on her sister's homework.

“It'll be fun to go to California for Thanksgiving.”

“I hope so.” Mel smiled tiredly, and kissed the girls when they went to school, and before she unpacked from the weekend, she called her lawyer. She knew he went to the office before eight o'clock every morning. But the news he gave her wasn't good. The network was still stalling on the contract, hoping she'd give up some of what she wanted. But he reminded Mel that she didn't have to, that they'd probably give in to her demands, and if they didn't, a dozen other offers would come in a matter of moments, if she even hinted that she was open to offers.

“But I'm really not, George. I want to stay where I am.”

“Then hang tough.”

“I intend to. Any chance we can get it wrapped up before Thanksgiving?”

“I'll do my best.”

But as it turned out, his best didn't do it. And when they took the plane to L.A. three weeks later, nothing was settled. Mel's attorney insisted that they were at the eleventh hour, but nothing was signed yet, and it was driving her crazy. Peter could see just from the nervous way she walked off the plane that it was all getting to her, but they would have four days together now, and he hoped she would unwind. He just prayed that the President didn't get shot and no one needed a heart transplant over Thanksgiving. And his prayers were aswered. They spent a peaceful Thanksgiving, with all five children happy to be together again. Mrs. Hahn outdid herself nobly with a Thanksgiving feast which left everyone barely able to leave the table.

“My God, I can't move.” Val stared down at her stomach in despair, and Mark came to her rescue, and pulled her out of her seat, as Pam and Jess went upstairs to play chess. Matthew curled up near the fire with his favorite blanket and his teddy bear and went to sleep. Peter and Mel repaired to his den to relax and talk. There was a feeling of homecoming about it all, and Peter had insisted that they not sleep at a hotel, but stay there at the house, in the guest room. And because Jess was along, Mel felt that Pam wouldn't be as upset at their staying there. She was in effect Mel's guarantee of safe passage.

“It was a beautiful dinner, Peter.”

“I'm glad you're all here.” He looked at her searchingly and saw the tired lines around her eyes. They didn't show on camera with her makeup, but he knew they were there, and it bothered him to see them. She shouldn't have been working that hard, or been under that much pressure. “You've been pushing too hard, my love.”

“What makes you say that?” She stretched her legs out toward the fire.

“You've lost weight and you look tired.”

“I suppose I do…. It's a tough business.” She smiled at him. She knew he'd had a rough time too, with two new transplants and Marie, who was developing problems with the steroids again, but she was doing better.

“Nothing new on the contract?”

“George says it's a matter of hours. They ought to sign it on Monday when I go back.”

Peter didn't say anything for a long time and then he looked at Mel. He didn't know how to begin to approach it, but the time was now or never. It may have been his last chance forever, or at least a year. He had to. “Mel …”

“Hmm?” She had been staring into the fire in the silence, and now she looked up with a smile, relaxing at last after weeks of tension. “Yes, Doctor?”

He wanted to move closer to her, but he didn't. “I've got something to ask you.”

“Something wrong?” Maybe something about Pam, but she had been all right lately. Better than Val surely, whose grades, Mel had discovered, had never been lower. But she was going to speak to Peter about that later in the weekend. They were going to have to put some kind of restrictions on the two lovebirds before Val flunked out of school completely, and Mel wanted Peter's support. But there was no rush to talk about that yet. “What's up, love?”

“Something I've been wanting to discuss with you for a long time. About your contract.”

She looked surprised. So far he'd stayed away from advising her about her work, and she thought it just as well. He didn't know her field any better than she knew his, and all they could offer each other was moral support, which was what they both needed. “What about it?”

“What if you don't sign it?”

She smiled. “The problem isn't me, it's them. I'd sign it in a minute, if the bastards would give us all the conditions we want. And I think they will. But it's been a war of nerves till now.”

“I know it has. But what if you don't sign it …"H e held his breath and then went on a moment later, “And sign with someone else instead?”

“I may have to if I don't get what I want.” But she hadn't gotten the point yet. It was the furthest thing from her mind. “Why? What did you have in mind?” He was obviously telling her something but she wasn't sure what yet.

He looked her straight in the eye and said it in a single word. “Marriage.” There was a total blank on her face and then a look of shock as she went pale, staring at him.

“What do you mean?” Her voice was no more than a whisper.

“I mean I want to marry you, Mel. I've been trying to get up the guts to ask you for months, but I didn't want to screw up your career. But with your contract taking this long to get signed, I just thought … I wondered …” She got up and stalked across the room, to stand near the fire with her back to him, and then at last she turned slowly.

“I don't know what to say to you, Peter.”

He tried to smile, but he was so desperately afraid he couldn't.” A simple yes will do.”

“But I can't do that. I can't give up everything I've built in New York. I just can't …” Her eyes filled with tears.” I love you, but I can't do that…” She started to tremble all over and he went to her and took her in his arms, with tears that she could not see filling his eyes as he held her.

“It's all right, Mel. I understand. But I had to ask you.”

She pulled away from him so she could see him, and there were tears pouring down her cheeks as well as his now.” I love you … oh God, don't ask me to do that, Peter. Don't make me prove something I can't prove to you.”

“You don't have to prove anything to me, Mel.” He wiped his cheeks and sat down on the couch. There was no kidding themselves either, they couldn't go on flying across the country to see each other forever. The end was inevitable, and they both knew that. He looked at her now, his eyes boring into hers and shook his head slowly. “I used to think we were both such lucky people, good kids, good careers, and we found each other.” He smiled ruefully. “Now I don't think we're so lucky.”

Mel didn't answer and at last she blew her nose and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I don't know what to say to you, Peter.”

“Don't say anything. Just know that if you change your mind I'm here and I love you. I want to marry you. I'll support everything you do, within reason. You could work as hard as you want and as much as you want at any of the L.A. networks.”

“But L.A.'s not New York.” He wanted to ask her then if New York meant more to her than he did, but it wasn't a fair question and he knew it.

“I know that. We don't need to discuss it. I just had to ask you.”

“It looks like I'm choosing work instead of you, and that's so ugly.”

“Sometimes the truth is ugly.” It had to be faced between them.

“Will you still want to continue … with … us … with me … if I sign my new contract and stay in New York?” She trembled at the question. What would she have now if she lost him? Nothing.

“Yes, we'll continue for as long as we can both stand it. But it can't go on forever and we both know that. And when it ends, Mel, we're both losing something wonderful, something that we both need desperately. I've never loved anyone more than I love you.” Tears spilled down her cheeks again then and she couldn't bear it any longer. She went outside for some air, and a little while later Peter joined her. “I'm sorry I asked you, Mel. I didn't mean to make you unhappy.”

“You didn't. It's just that sometimes”—her eyes filled with tears and her voice broke—“life is full of such fucking tough choices. All I wanted was a better contract and now I feel like I'm breaking your heart if I sign it.”

“You're not.” He held her close to him. “You're doing what you have to do for you, Mel, and that's terribly important. I respect that.”

“Why the hell did we have to be so unlucky?” She was openly sobbing. “Why couldn't we both have lived in the same city?”

He smiled, accepting their fate now. She was what she had been from the beginning and he had been wrong to try to change that. “Because life is full of challenges, Mel. We'll make it. Hell, if I had to travel five times that distance, I would still want to see you.” And then he looked at her again in the soft darkness. “Will you come back out here for Christmas?”

“Yes, if I'm not working.”

“Okay.” He tried to feel satisfied with that, but he wasn't. He had no choice though, and as they lay side by side that night they were both thinking, and the heavy mood was still on them the next day and the day after.

And the children didn't help them. Val and Mark seemed to have plans for every moment of the weekend, and Jess and Pam and Matthew went to movies, visited friends, did errands. Peter didn't even insist this time that they all stick together, he had too much on his own mind. And Mel looked even more upset when they left than she had when they'd arrived, and her attorney's call the next morning did nothing to soothe her.

“Well, we got it.” He almost crowed with victory when he called at eleven o'clock that morning. She had been quietly pacing her room, thinking of Peter's face when she left him. He looked devastated and she felt worse, but there had been no choice to make and he knew it.

“Got what?” Mel was almost too nervous this morning to think straight. And she had sent the girls off to school despite their return on the red eye.

“Good God. What did you do in California, Mel? Spend the whole weekend on dope or LSD? You got your contract!” He was as nervous and exhausted as she was. It had been a long fight this time, but it was worth it. She had had the guts to hold out, and had gotten everything she wanted. Not too many of his clients had the balls to do that, but she did. “We sign at noon today. Can you be there by then?”

“Hell, yes.” She grinned, it was what they had waited two months for, but somehow when she hung up the phone, she found that the thrill was gone. The victory was empty now, thanks to Peter. When she signed the contract, she would feel that she had betrayed him.

But at noon she was at the network and George and all of the officials were waiting. There were ten people in the room, and Mel was the last to arrive, dressed in a black Dior suit, with a mink coat over her arm and a black hat with a veil, which suited her humor. She looked like a widow in an old movie, going to the reading of a will. She made a dramatic entrance and the network men seemed pleased. They always got their money's worth with Mel Adams, and even they respected her for the long battle. She cast smiles around the room like rice at a wedding, and sat down with a look at George, who nodded. He could hardly wait to call the press and announce this one. It was a knock-out contract for Mel and everyone in the room knew it, including Mel herself. She glanced over the conditions, pen in hand. The network officials had already signed it, and all that was missing was her signature on the dotted line. She picked up her pen, and held it, feeling her palms damp, her face grow white, as suddenly she seemed to see Peter's face before her. She stopped, silent, pale, thinking, and looked at George. He nodded again.

“Everything's just fine, Mel.” He was smiling, looking ghoulish and suddenly she knew that she couldn't do it. She stood up, the pen still clutched in her hand, and shook her head at them, looking at the men she had worked for.

“I'm sorry. I can't do it.”

“But what's wrong?” They were stupefied. Was she crazy? She would have told them that she was if they had asked her. “It's all there, Mel. Everything you asked for.”

“I know.” She sat down again, looking broken. “I can't explain it. But I can't sign the contract.”

As a single body, they began to look ugly, and George with them. “What the hell …”

She looked up at each one of them, still shaking, and tears stung her eyes, but she couldn't cry now. She wanted it so badly she could taste it, but there was something else she wanted more and which she knew would last a lifetime, not just a year. And Peter was right. She could work in L.A. Her career wouldn't be over just because she left New York. She stood up again and said in a strong voice. “Gentlemen, I'm moving to California.”

The room was stunned into silence. “You signed with the network there?” Now they knew she was crazy. They couldn't have offered her more money. Or had they? The flashy assholes. But Mel had always had more class than that. No one understood what had happened, least of all her own attorney. She gulped then, and spoke to no one in particular.

“I' m getting married.” And then without another word, she strode from the room, rushed into the elevator, and left the building before anyone could stop her. She walked all the way home, and when she got there she found that she felt a little better. She had just thrown her whole fucking career out the window, but she thought that Peter was worth it. She just hoped she wasn't wrong, as she picked up the phone and dialed his number, and the operator in the hospital paged him, and found him. He was on the phone in less than a minute, busy and distracted, but happy to get the call.

“Are you okay?” He was only half listening to her answer.

“No, I'm not.”

And then he heard her, and the strangeness of her voice. God, something had happened. He had sounded like that when Anne died … the twins … “What is it?” His heart pounded as he waited.

“I went to sign the contract …” She sounded numb. “And I didn't.”

“You didn't what?”

“I didn't sign it.”

“You what?” His legs turned to Jell-O beneath him. “Are you crazy?”

“That's what they said.” And suddenly she panicked, terrified that he had changed his mind and now it was too late. She had thrown everything out the window. She almost whispered. “Am I?”

And then he understood what she had done and why, as tears came to his eyes. “Oh, baby, no you aren't… yes, you are … oh God, I love you. Do you mean it?”

“I think so. I just threw away a million bucks for the year. I think maybe I must mean it.” She sat down and started to laugh, and suddenly she couldn't stop laughing and he couldn't stop either. She took off her hat and veil and tossed them in the air. “Dr. Hallam, as of the thirty-first of December, which happens to be New Year's Eve, I'm unemployed. Practically a vagrant.”

“Terrific. I've always wanted to marry a vagrant.” The laughter at her end died into silence. “Do you still?”

His voice was very gentle. “Yes. Will you marry me, Mel?” She nodded and he waited, terrified. “I can't hear you.”

“I said yes.” And then, desperately nervous, “Do you think they'll hire me in L.A.?”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed again. “By tonight, they'll be beating your door down.” But there were other things on his mind. “Mel, let's get married on Christmas.”

“Okay.” She was still in a kind of stupor, and everything he said sounded fine to her now. “When on Christmas?” It was all like a dream, and she wasn't sure yet how long she'd been dreaming. She remembered a room full of men in dark suits, and her refusing to sign a contract, but after that everything was a blur except this phone call. She could hardly remember how she had gotten home now. Had she walked? Taken a cab? Flown?

“How about Christmas Eve?”

“Sure. When's that?”

“In about three and a half weeks. Is that okay?”

“Yes.” She nodded slowly. And then, “Peter, do you think I'm crazy?”

“No, I think you're the bravest woman I've ever met, and I love you for it.”

“I'm scared shitless.”

“Don't be. You'll get a great job out here, and we'll be happy. Everything is going to be wonderful.” She hoped he was right. All she could think of now was what she had done by refusing to sign the contract, but if they had asked her again, she would have refused again. She had made her decision, and now she would have to live by it, whatever that took, and of that she wasn't sure yet.

“What'll I do with my house?”

“Sell it.”

“Can't I rent it?” She felt sick at the thought of giving it up forever. She had to take such giant steps now.

“Are you planning to move back there?”

“Of course not, not unless you do.”

“Then why keep it? Sell it, Mel. You can use the money to invest in something out here.”

“Will we be buying a new house?” She felt confusion begin to sweep over her as she sat staring into space and she heard her doorbell ringing in the distance but she didn't answer. It was Raquel's day off and there was no one she wanted to see now, particularly reporters, if they'd heard the news.

“We don't need a new house, Mel. We have this one.” He sounded so happy, but as she listened she knew she didn't want to live there. It was Anne's house … their house … not her house … but maybe just in the beginning … “Look, you just relax. Have a drink or something. I've got to get back to work here. I'll call you later. And remember. I love you.”

“I love you too.” But her voice was only a whisper, and she didn't move from the chair for an hour as she contemplated what she'd done, and when George called she attempted to explain it. He told her that he thought she was crazy, but it was an intensely personal decision. He agreed to sound out the L.A. networks, and by that night she had three offers, and by the following week she had a contract, for the same money she had wanted in New York, and had had to wait two months for. But of course this was L.A., and not New York. But the furor she had created was beyond measure, and it was an agony to go into work now. They had asked her to stay until December 15, and then she could leave two weeks before the end of her contract. But everywhere she was treated like a traitor, even Grant came to see her to tell her that she was crazy, that it would never work, that she was meant for the big time in New York, not the L.A. market, and marriage wasn't her life-style. She felt as though she were drifting through a nightmare, and the twins kept looking at her as though she had betrayed them.

“Did you know you were going to do it?” Jess asked when she told them, meaning accept Peter's proposal. But it sounded as though she were asking her if she knew she was going to commit murder.

“No, I didn't.”

“When did he ask you?”

“On Thanksgiving.” The reproach she felt was in her eyes each time she looked at her mother, and Valerie was so nervous that she seemed ready to throw up each time Mel looked at her, and even she wasn't totally pleased to be moving. They had to change schools mid-year, leave their home, their friends. And when Mel put the house on the market, she thought it would kill her. It sold on the first weekend, and when she got word, she sat down on the stairs and cried. Everything was happening much too quickly. And only Raquel seemed to know what was going on, as she packed endless boxes for California.

“I tole you, Mrs. Mel … I tole you last summer … in six months …”

“Oh, for chrissake, Raquel, shut up.” But halfway through the packing, Mel realized that she didn't know what she was going to do with Raquel. There was no room for her at Peter's, and the woman had been with her for years. She called him in a panic one night at midnight in California, three A.M. in New York.

“What am I going to do with Raquel?”

“Is she sick?” He had been half asleep when she called him, but Mel was wide-awake.

“No, I mean about bringing her.”

“You can't bring her, Mel.”

“Why not?” She bridled.

“There's no room, and Mrs. Hahn would kill her.”

“Personally, I'd prefer it if Raquel killed Mrs. Hahn.”

“Mrs. Hahn is devoted to my children.” It was the first time he had spoken to her in that tone of voice and Mel didn't like it.

“Raquel is devoted to mine. Now what?”

“Be reasonable.” How reasonable did she have to be? She had given up a job, a house, her children had given up friends and schools, just how much more did he want her to leave behind her? Raquel too?

“If she doesn't come, Peter, neither do I, or the children.”

“Oh, for God's sake.” And then he decided it was too late to argue. “All right. We'll rent her an apartment.”

“Thank you.” Mel announced the news to Raquel the next morning, still feeling annoyed at Peter, but this time Raquel surprised her.

“To California? You crazy? I live here, in New York.” But she smiled at Mel and kissed her cheek. “But thank you. I gonna miss you. But I just don' want to move to California. You gonna have a good life now. You got a good husband. But me, I got a boyfriend here. Maybe sooner or later I' get married too.” She looked hopeful, and determined not to go to California.

“We're going to miss you too.” They would have nothing familiar except each other. Even her furniture was going into storage. There was no room for it in his house. And as the days progressed, Mel realized that this was not going to be easy.

On the fifteenth of December, two weeks earlier than her contract required, she did the eleven o'clock news for the last time, from New York. And she knew that approximately two weeks later, she would be coming on the air, on another network, from L.A., but this era in her life was over. Gone forever. And she cried as she put down her mike, and walked out of the studio, and outside Grant was waiting. He hugged her, and she cried in his arms, and he shook his head, like an astonished father, but he was proud of her too. She had done something good for herself, and he was glad. Peter Hallam was a fine man. Grant just hoped that everything would work: the careers, the kids, the move. It was a lot to ask. But Mel could handle it, if anyone could.

“Good luck, Mel. We'll miss you.” They had wanted to give her a party, but she had refused. She couldn't bear it. Her emotions were too raw now. She promised to come back and visit, and introduce everyone to Peter. To them it was a fairy story. She had gone to do an interview and fallen in love with the handsome doctor, but it all hurt so much now. Leaving them, closing the house, leaving New York.

“Good-bye, Grant. Take care.” She kissed his cheek, and walked away with tears running down her face. She was leaving all that was familiar to her and all her old friends, and five minutes later she left the building, the building where she had aspired to so much and gone so far, and now she was leaving, and when she got home that night, all she saw was a mountain of boxes. The movers were coming the next morning, and it would be Raquel's last day as well. They would slay at the Carlyle Hotel for the weekend, and cm Monday they would close on the house, she would pick up the white wool Bill Blass dress she'd bought at BendeI's, and the day alter, on December 19, they'd fly to L.A., five days before her wedding … her wedding … she sat up in the dark, feeling it all close in around her. Her wedding. She was getting married …

“Oh my God.” She sat in bed and looked at the chaos around her, and the tears slid slowly down her face, as she wondered what madness bad overtaken her life. Even the thought of Peter waiting for her in L.A. didn't console her.

CHAPTER 24

On Saturday the sixteenth of December, Mel stood in her bedroom on East Eighty-first Street for the very last time. The moving men had ransacked the house for two days, and the last truck had just rumbled down the street, to carry her “goods,” as they called them, to California, where everything but her clothes and a few small treasures she loved would go into storage. The rest simply wouldn't fit into Peter's house, he had told her.

The girls were waiting downstairs for her with Raquel, in the front hall, but she had wanted to see the view from her bedroom one last time. Never again would she lie in bed in the morning, looking out the window, listening to the birds in the small garden. There would be other birds in California, another garden, a whole different life. But it was impossible not to think of how much it had meant to her when she bought this house. It was a lot to give up for a man she loved, and yet it was only a house after all.

“Mom?” Val shouted up to her from the front hall. “You coming down?”

“I'll be right there.” She shouted back, her eyes dragging across the room for a last time, and then she ran quickly down the stairs, and found them waiting for her, their arms loaded with the gifts they had exchanged with Raquel, standing next to the valises they were taking to the hotel. And when Mel went outside to hail a cab she saw that there was a light snowfall sticking to the ground. It took her almost half an hour to find a cab, and when she came back to get the girls, she found them in tears, locked in Raquel's arms.

“I gonna miss you guys,” Raquel looked into Mel's eyes and smiled through her tears. “But you did okay, Mrs. Mel. He's a nice man.”

Mel nodded, unable to speak for a moment, and then she kissed Raquel's cheek and looked at the twins. “The cab's outside, girls, why don't you put your stuff in the front seat?” They trundled outside in their boots and parkas and jeans and warm scarves, and Mel found herself thinking that those days were over too, except when they went skiing somewhere, from now on.

“Raquel”—Mel's voice was hoarse from the emotion she felt—“we love you, remember that. And if you ever need anything, or if you change your mind about coming to L.A …” Her eyes filled with tears, and the two women embraced.

“It's gonna be okay, hija … you gonna be happy out there … don' cry …” But she was crying too. They had shared so many years, and together they had raised the girls. And it was all over now. Mel had given everything up for her new life, even Raquel.

“We're going to miss you so much.” A horn honked outside, and Mel hugged Raquel once more and looked around the darkened house. The closing was on Monday, and the new people were taking over the following day, and everything would be different. They would paint and paper the whole house, redo the kitchen, knock out some walls. She shuddered at the thought as Raquel watched her.

“Come on, Mrs. Mel, let's go.” She gently took Mel by the hand and they walked outside, and then Mel turned to lock her front door for the last time, feeling everything inside her go taut. But this was what she had wanted, and there was no turning back now.

They stood on the sidewalk side by side, Raquel in the new coat they had bought her as a Christmas gift that she had decided to open early this year, and Mel walked toward the cab. Mel had also given her a check that would tide her over for a month or two, and a reference that would win her any job. She pulled open the door of the cab and slid in beside the girls, and waved to Raquel as they drove away, all three of them crying in the backseat and Raquel crying and waving as she stood in the falling snow.

Once they got to the hotel, the girls were excited by the elaborate suite. They ordered room service, turned on the TV, got on the phone to their friends; Mel finally had a little time to herself. She called Peter from the separate phone in her room.

“Hi, love.”

“You sound beat. Are you all right?”

“Yeah, it was awful saying good-bye to Raquel and closing the house.”

“You'll be out here soon and that'll all be behind you, Mel.” He told her that he had gotten a stack of papers for her from the station in L.A. that day. She was due to start on the first of January, and they wanted to see her briefly at the station the minute she arrived.

“I'll call them on Tuesday when I come out.”

“That's what I told them too. Are you all right, sweetheart?” He knew how hard it was for her to leave New York, and he admired her for the courageous thing she had done. Even though he had asked her to marry him, he had had almost no hope of her doing that. It had all seemed like a dream to him, and now the dream was coming true.

“I' m okay, love. Just tired.” And depressed, but she didn't want to tell him that. It would be better once she was with him again, then the anguish of the change wouldn't be quite as sharp as it was now. “How's work?”

“Intense just now. We seem to have a house full of patients needing transplants, and no hearts. It's like a juggling act keeping ten balls in the air at once.” But she knew how well he did that, and she smiled to herself, and realized again how much she missed him. She hadn't seen him since their Thanksgiving trip to L.A., she hadn't even seen him since she accepted his proposal.

“How's Marie?”

“Doing better again. I think she'll be fine.” He was obviously in high spirits, and Mel felt better again when she got off the phone. And that night she and the girls ordered dinner in their rooms, and they went to bed early, and when they woke up the next day there was a foot of snow outside.

“Look, Mom!” For once, Jessica forgot her serious thoughts and she squealed like a little child. “Let's go to the park and have a snowball fight.” Which was exactly what they did, and afterward Mel suggested they rent skates, and they skated at Wollman Rink, laughing and teasing, and gliding, and falling down. Val didn't seem as enchanted with the plan as her mother and her twin, but in the end she was game and they all had a wonderful time, and they walked slowly back to the hotel, and had steaming cups of hot chocolate and whipped cream.

“I guess we're just tourists now.” Mel smiled. And the three of them went to the movies that night. The girls had plans with their friends for the next day, but they had nothing planned for that night. And on Monday morning, Mel went to the closing of the house, and then stopped at BendeI's to pick up her wedding dress, as planned. It was a simple white wool dress with a jacket that matched, in a beautiful textured cream-colored wool by Bill Blass. And the girls came with her and picked out dresses for themselves in a pale blue, and at Mel's suggestion, they bought the identical dress for Pam.

They were getting married on Christmas Eve at St. Albans Church in Beverly Hills on Hilgard Avenue across from UCLA, and there would be only a handful of guests, all of them Peter's friends, since Mel knew no one in L. A.

“It's gonna be weird with none of our friends there, isn't it, Mom?” Val looked concerned and Mel smiled.

“It's going to be that way for a while, until Peter's friends are our friends too.” Val nodded, and Jessica looked downcast. It reminded her again that they didn't know a soul in L.A. and had to go to a new school. She wasn't looking forward to that. Only Val didn't mind quite so much, it was easier for her because of Mark.

And on Monday night, Mel took them both to “21” for their last dinner in New York, and a limousine took them back to the hotel for their last night. The three of them stood looking out at the skyline before they went to bed, and Mel felt tears sting her eyes again. “We'll be back to visit, you know.” But she wasn't sure if she was reassuring herself or the girls. “And maybe you'll want to come to college here.” That was only two years away for them, but for her … except for visits, there would be no coming back. She had made an enormous step in every way.

The next day, leaving the Carlyle was not as painful as leaving the house had been. There was a sense of an adventure begun as they left, and the girls were in high spirits as they left for the airport in a limousine, and then boarded the plane. Two college students going home to L.A. had already spotted Jess and Val, and once the plane took off Mel hardly saw them again until they landed.

“Where have you two been?” She wasn't particularly concerned as they came back to their seats to land. There wasn't very far for them to go on a plane.

“Playing bridge in the back with two kids from L.A. They go to Columbia and they're going home for Christmas and they invited us to a party tomorrow night in Malibu.” Val's eyes shone and Jessica laughed and looked at Mel.

“Yeah, and I bet Mom will really let us do that.” She was wise to her mother's rules, and Mel laughed.

But Val tried again. “We could take Mark.”

“I think we're going to have some settling in to do.”

“Oh, Mom …”

But the plane touched the ground then, and it was bright and sunny outside, and the three of them looked around anxiously as they came off the plane, wondering which Hallams had come to the airport, but then Val gave a whoop as she saw Mark, and Mel saw that they were all there, even Matthew. She rushed into Peter's arms and he held her tight, and in that single moment she knew that she had done the right thing. She knew that with every ounce of her being, she loved him.

CHAPTER 25

Mel and the girls stayed at the Bel-Air until December twenty-fourth, and at five in the afternoon, a rented limousine came to pick them up, and drove them to St. Albans Church on Hilgard Avenue. She looked beautiful in the white wool dress, and the girls looked lovely in the blue ones. Mel was carrying a bouquet of white freesia mixed with white cymbidium orchids and baby's breath, Jess and Val had small bouquets of white stephanotis, mixed in with tiny spring flowers, and there were tiny knots of the same flowers woven into their shining hair.

Mel looked at them one last time before they got out of the car, and approved of what she saw. “You look beautiful, girls.”

“So do you, Mom.” Jessica's eyes shone as she searched her mother's eyes. “Are you scared?”

She hesitated and then grinned. “To death.”

Jessica smiled, and then a worried look crossed her eyes, maybe they would go home again. “Are you going to chicken out?”

But at that, Mel laughed. “Hell no. You know what they say, ‘You can't go home again.’” But as she said the words, a shadow crossed Jessie's eyes, and Mel was sorry she had been flip. She reached out and touched the pretty young redhead's hand. “I' m sorry, Jess.” And then in a soft voice, “This will be home to us soon.” But she knew that of all of them, the move had been hardest on Jess, and yet the girl never seemed to complain. She had spent the last five days helping Pam reorganize her room, and helping Val move their things into the guest room. She and her twin were going to share the guest room, and it would be strange to no longer have their own rooms.

“I wouldn't mind if she weren't such a slob,” Jess confided to Pam, and then shrugged. There simply wasn't enough room in the house to give them separate rooms, and Jessica accepted that. She accepted everything. Even the chilly reception by Mrs. Hahn, who continually looked into their suitcases and their closets with discerning glances. And the last of their things waited now in suitcases at the Bel-Air Hotel, where they would be picked up that night and moved to the Hallam house. Mel hadn't wanted any of them to move in until the wedding day.

“Well”—Jess glanced out the car window at the pretty little church—“I guess this is it.”

Mel fell silent and simply looked and Val gasped as she saw Mark go into the church, he looked so handsome and young and strong. Peter and Matt were already inside, and Pam was waiting for them in the vestibule. She was going to go up the aisle first in her blue dress that matched the girls', carrying the same bouquet as they, and then Valerie would follow Pam, and Jessica behind her, and after a moment's pause, Mel. Peter and the boys would be waiting at the altar for them, and on the way out, Pam and Matt would hold hands, leading the entourage down the aisle, and Mark would walk between them, and then Peter and Mel. They had planned it all in a matter of weeks, Mel had ordered the invitations she liked in New York, and Peter's secretary had sent them out to his closest friends.

As Mel looked around the church as she walked down the aisle, she realized that there was not a single soul there she knew. Here she was getting married, with not a single friend there, only her twins. And as she approached the altar, she looked deathly pale, anticipation and excitement were draining her, and her eyes went to Peter's, as he stepped forward and quietly took her arm, and suddenly nothing mattered in the world, except him, and a soft rose glow brought life to her face. He whispered softly to her before the ceremony began.

“I love you, Mel. Everything's going to be fine.”

“I love you, too.” It was all she could say.

And then the minister reminded the congregation of why they were there. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, on Christmas Eve, on this holy day”—he smiled— “to join this woman and this man in the bond of holy matrimony …” Mel could hear her heart pound, and every minute or two Peter would gently pat her hand, and then the moment came to exchange their vows and their rings. He had ordered hers without her being there, a simple circlet of diamonds in a narrow band. She had insisted that she didn't want an engagement ring. As she looked down at the ring now she felt tears fill her eyes, so that she could barely see him as she slipped on a simple gold wedding band.

“To have and to hold from this day forth … for better or worse until death do you part …” A shiver ran down her spine. After all this she couldn't bear losing him. And yet he had survived losing Anne, and now here they were. She looked into his face, looking up at the man who was her husband now.” I now pronounce you man and wife.” The organ sprang to life, and a choir sang “Silent Night,” and as Mel looked into Peter's eyes she felt as though she were going to melt. “You may kiss the bride,” the portly minister said to the groom, and smiled at Mel, and Peter did, and then they seemed to float down the aisle, and for the next hour, she shook hands with dozens of people she had never seen, their faces all strange to her, and she found a minute to kiss Mark and Matthew and Pam and tell them how happy she was, and in the distance she glimpsed Mrs. Hahn. Even on their wedding day, Mel thought the woman looked sour, but Peter made a point of going to shake her hand, and then Mel saw her smile. And suddenly she wondered if Mrs. Hahn disapproved of her. Perhaps she still missed Anne. And seeing her there suddenly brought back visions of Raquel, and Mel wished she were there to see her wedding day. With no family of her own, Raquel had been almost a mother to her.

The seven of them hopped in a limousine afterward to go to the Bel-Air Hotel, where the reception was being held, and Mel suddenly became aware that her wedding party was larger than she had thought it would be. The invitations to the reception had been for six o'clock, with dinner scheduled for seven thirty, and as they entered the enormous facilities of the club, Mel realized that there were at least a hundred people there. A seven-man band began to play “The Wedding March” and Peter stopped her right there and kissed her full on the mouth.

“Hello, Mrs. Hallam.” And suddenly it all felt crazy and wonderful to Mel, and it didn't matter who the people were, strangers or not, or even people she would never see again. They were all sharing in the happiest moment of her life. People came up to her constantly and shook her hand, told her how much they enjoyed seeing her on TV, and how lucky Peter was. So they didn't seem so much like strangers anymore.

“No, I'm the lucky one.” She insisted again and again, and there was only one moment to mar the fun, when she thought she glimpsed Val talking to Mark, and crying softly in the corner of the dining room, but by the time she got to where they sat, Val seemed to have recovered, and she smiled and hugged Mel, as Jessica watched, and then took her mother in her arms too.

“We love you, Mom. And we're so happy for you.” But she could see in Jessie's eyes that there was pain there too. It was going to take them all time, even Mel with Peter at her side. But she felt certain that she had done the right thing for all of them, especially Peter and herself, and the girls would have to adjust to that. But she knew that to them it still seemed brutal, and she was just grateful that they hadn't taken it out on Peter. That could have been a possibility with children less supportive than hers.

She had noticed once or twice how snappy Pam was with her. But she would take care of that slowly, when Pam was used to the idea of her father being married again. All in good time, Mel reminded herself again and again.

The romance between Val and Mark seemed to still be on, although they didn't seem quite as happy as they had been before, and Mel suspected that living together would take the bloom off the rose for both of them. Once he saw what a “slob” she was, as Jess said, and she had him around all the time, the romance was bound to cool. At least Mel hoped it would. And she turned her thoughts from them to Matt, who bowed and invited her to dance. She did a sort of little jig with him as people smiled and watched, and at the very end, Peter cut in, and swept her off in a waltz.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

“No, but do you know how happy I am?” She beamed at him.

“Tell me. I want to hear.” He looked as happy as she. But the changes had been easier for him. They were all happening to Mel, giving up her job, pulling her kids out of school, selling her house, letting Raquel go, leaving New York …

“I've never been happier in my life.”

“Good. That's how it should be.” He glanced around the room as they twirled. “Our kids look pretty happy too.” Pam was laughing at something Jess had said, and Mark was dancing with Val, as Matthew entertained the guests.

“I think they are. Except Mrs. Hahn, she doesn't look too thrilled.”

“Give her time. She's a little stiff.” That was the understatement of the year, but Mel didn't comment on it. “She loves you too, and so do all my friends.”

“They look nice.” But they could have been members of a wedding anywhere, sent by central casting to eat, dance, and beam.

“Later, when things settle down, I'll arrange some quiet evenings so you can meet people in small groups. I know how hard this must be.”

“It isn't really.” She smiled into his eyes. “Because of you. You're all I care about here, you know, except the kids.”

He looked pleased, but he wanted her to like his friends too. They already knew who she was, but now she needed to meet them. “You'll get to like them, too.” And then the dance ended, and one of Peter's colleagues cut in, and they spoke of the interview she had done of Peter earlier in the year. He had been in the operating room when they did the transplant on Marie, and Mel remembered him.

She danced with dozens of people she didn't know, laughed at jokes, shook hands, tried to remember names and then gave up, knowing she never would, and at last at eleven o'clock they all went home. And then the limousine took them to Peter's house on Copa de Oro Drive in Bel-Air and the children filed in. Mark was carrying Matt, who had fallen asleep in the car, and the girls were still chattering between yawns, as Peter took Mel's arm and stopped her from walking in the door.

“Just a minute, please.”

“Something wrong?” She looked surprised. The chauffeur was going in with their bags, but Peter was smiling at her, and then he suddenly swept her into his arms, and carried her over the threshold, depositing her inside near the Christmas tree.

“Welcome home, my love.” They stood and kissed and the kids tiptoed upstairs, but the only one who really smiled was Mark. All three girls looked tense as they tried not to think of what this day meant. It was no longer a game. It was for real. And Pam and the twins quietly said good night, went upstairs to their rooms, and closed their doors. Pam didn't like seeing Mel in Peter's arms, any more than the twins liked realizing that their mother was no longer solely theirs. The lines had been drawn.

Peter and Mel lingered downstairs for a while, talking about their wedding day. It had been a lovely party and they'd had a good time. He poured her another glass of champagne from his bar, some Cristal he had saved, and he toasted her as the clock on the mantelpiece chimed. “Merry Christmas, Mel.” She stood up and set down her glass, and they kissed for a long, long time and then he swept her into his arms, wedding dress and all, and carried her upstairs.

CHAPTER 26

Peter and Mel spent Christmas with their children in the house on Copa de Oro Drive, and Mrs. Hahn cooked them a wonderful Christmas dinner, of goose and wild rice, a chestnut puree, little peas and onions, and mince pie and plum pudding for dessert.

“No turkey this year?” Jessica looked surprised as they came down to dinner, and when she got one whiff of the goose, Val burst into tears and ran upstairs, but when Mel started to go comfort her, Mark stopped her.

“I'll do it, Mel.” He seemed strangely quiet, but no one except Jessica noticed. Val seemed to cry a lot lately, or Jess thought so at least, and she had heard her crying in her bed the night before, but Val wouldn't tell her what was wrong, and Jessie didn't want to upset her mother, who hadn't seemed to notice anything wrong with Val.

“Thanks, Mark.” And then she turned to Peter. “I'm sorry. I think everyone's tired.”

He nodded, not looking worried. Their traditions were new to the twins. They had goose every year, thanks to Mrs. Hahn in recent times and Anne before that. They only ate turkey on Thanksgiving. And on Easter they had ham.

But when Mrs. Hahn served the mince pie Jessie and Val only picked at it, longing for the hot apple pie they always had in New York at Christmas. Even the tree looked strange to them. There were tiny flashing lights on it and only large gold balls. All of their antique Christmas decorations they had spent years collecting and loved, and multi-colored lights, had gone into storage with the rest of their things.

“I'm stuffed.” Mel looked at Peter in despair as they left the table. The only good thing she could say about Mrs. Hahn was that her cooking was superb. It had been a lavish meal, and they all felt full as they went to sit in the living room. And then, as Mel looked around at her new home, she realized that there were still all the same pictures of Anne around, and one oil portrait over a narrow French table. Peter noticed her looking at the photos of Anne, and he tensed for a moment, wondering if she would say something. But she didn't. She silently made a mental note to put them away when they came back from their honeymoon on the morning of New Year's Eve.

Peter had suggested Puerto Vallarta, one of his favorite places, and they were taking all five children with them, although Mel was nervous about taking Matt to Mexico, in case he got sick. The others were old enough to be careful, but she'd have to watch Matt. They had decided mat it wouldn't be diplomatic to leave the children so soon. They could take a trip alone later, maybe to Europe, or Hawaii, depending on when they could get away. Under her new contract, Mel no longer had two months off as she had in New York. She had only one and a maternity leave. She had been amused when they insisted on putting it in the contract. She had had all the babies she was going to have, and all at once too. She had laughed again when she told Peter about it, and he teased her about getting her pregnant if she didn't behave. In answer to which she had teasingly menaced him with pinking shears.

As they sat in the living room on Christmas night, Mel groaned at the thought of packing again. It seemed as though she had done nothing but for the past month but at least she wouldn't need much in Puerto Vallarta, and all the children were excited about going. And that night there was much scurrying between rooms as they giggled and teased and took things from each other, and Matt bounced on Val's bed, and Pam on some of Jessica's sweaters, at her new sister's invitation.

Peter and Mel could hear the racket from their room and Mel smiled.” I think they're gonna make it.” But she was still aware of a certain mild tension between the two groups. There was something very real about all this, and there was no escaping it now.

“You worry about them too much, Mel. They're fine,” he told her with a smile as he answered the ringing telephone. And then he sat down at his desk with a frown, with the phone still in his hand as he asked a series of rapid-fire questions. He set the phone down again and grabbed his jacket from a chair, explaining quickly to Mel what had happened. “It's Marie. She's rejecting again.”

“Is it serious?”

He nodded, his face pale. “She's in a coma. I don't know why they didn't call me earlier today. They gave me some bullshit story about it being Christmas and not wanting to disturb me since I wasn't on call. God damn it.” He stood in the doorway looking unhappily at Mel. “I'll be home when I can.”

As he left, she saw their trip to Mexico going out the window. When the children came to say good night a while later, she didn't say anything, not wanting to upset them. She said only that he'd gone to the hospital to check on a patient. But once they'd left the room again, she found herself thinking about Marie, and praying for her. Peter never called to give her any news. And at last, at two thirty, Mel gave up and went to bed, hoping he'd be able to leave on the trip. Otherwise they would have to cancel it. She didn't want to leave without him. This was their honeymoon.

She felt him slip into bed beside her just after five o'clock, and when she reached out to him he felt distant and stiff. It was so unlike him that she opened an eye, and then moved closer to him.

“Hi, sweetheart. Everything all right?” He didn't answer, and she opened both eyes. Something was wrong. “Peter?”

“She died at four o'clock. We opened her up and she was just too far gone. She had the worst case of hardening of the arteries I've ever seen, and with a new heart, dammit.” It was obvious that he blamed himself. They had given her seven months and no more, but it was seven months more than she would have had without it.

“I'm sorry.” There seemed to be so little she could say, and he was shutting her out. He resisted all her efforts to console him. And finally at six o'clock he got out of bed. “You should try to get some sleep before we leave.” Her voice was gentle and she was obviously worried about him. But she felt it too. Marie had been someone important to them both, right from the first. Mel had watched the transplant. And she felt the girl's loss now. But she was not prepared for what Peter said next. He sounded like an angry unhappy child.

“I' m not going. You take the children.” He looked petulant and upset as he sat down heavily in a chair in their bedroom, and as it was still dark outside, Mel turned on a light to see him better. He looked exhausted and there were dark circles under his eyes. It was a hell of a final note to their wedding and a rotten beginning for their honeymoon.

“There's nothing you can do here. And we won't go without you.”

“I' m not in the mood, Mel.”

“That's not fair. The children will be so disappointed, and it's our honeymoon.” He was being unreasonable, but she knew that he was too tired to make much sense. “Peter, please …”

“Dammit”—he leapt to his feet, glaring at her—“how would you feel? Seven lousy months, that's all … that's all I gave her.”

“You're not God, Peter. You did what you know how to do, and you did it brilliantly. But God makes those decisions, you don't.”

“Bullshit! We should have done better than that.”

“Well, you didn't dammit, and she's dead.” Now Mel was shouting too. “And you can't stay here and sulk about it, you have a responsibility to us too.” He glared at her and stalked out of the room, but he came back half an hour later with two cups of coffee. They didn't have to be at the airport until noon so there was still time to convince him. He handed Mel a cup of the steaming brew with a sour look and she looked into his eyes as she thanked him.

“I'm sorry, Mel … I just … I can't ever feel good about it when I lose a patient, and she was such a sweet girl … it's not fair …” His voice drifted off and Mel set down her cup and put her arms around his shoulders.

“You're not in a fair business, sweetheart. You know that. You know the odds each time you go in. You try to forget them, but they're still there.” He nodded, she was right. She knew him well. He turned to her then with a sad smile.

“I' m a lucky man.”

“And a brilliant surgeon. Don't ever forget that.” She didn't ask him about Mexico again until after he'd had breakfast with the children; he was strangely subdued and Mark asked Mel about it as they walked back upstairs side by side.

“What's wrong with Dad?”

“He lost a patient last night.”

Mark nodded, understanding. “H e always takes that hard, especially if they're transplant patients. Was it?”

“Yes. The one he did when I interviewed him in May.” Mark nodded again and looked questioningly at Mel.

“Are we still leaving for Mexico?”

“I hope so.”

Mark didn't look too sure. “You don't know how he gets with this kind of thing. We may not be going.”

“I'll do my best.”

He looked at her then and seemed about to say something else but Matt came along and interrupted them. He couldn't find his flippers and wanted to know if Mel had seen them.

“No, I haven't, but I'll look around. Did you check out at the pool?” He nodded, and Mel went on to her own room after he went his way and she found Peter there, sitting in a chair and staring into space, looking suddenly older than his years. His oldest son knew him well. He was taking Marie's death very hard, and Mel was beginning to doubt that they would be going anywhere that day. “Well, sweetheart”—she sat down near him on the edge of the bed—“what'll we do?”

“About what?” He looked blank, he was thinking of how her heart had looked when they'd opened her up.

“The trip. Shall we go or stay?”

He hesitated for a long moment, looking into Mel's eyes. “I don't know.” He seemed incapable of making that decision at the moment.

“I think it would do you good, and the kids too. We've all been through a lot lately, a lot of adjustments, a lot of changes, and there are more to come. It seems to me that a trip might be just what the doctor ordered.” She smiled and didn't point out to him that she was starting work at a new network in a week and would be under tremendous pressure herself. She needed a vacation even more than he did.

“Ail right. We'll go. I guess you're right. We can't disappoint the children, and I've already arranged for someone to cover for me.” She put her arms around him and hugged him tight.

“Thank you.” But he barely responded, and he spoke to no one on the way to the airport. Once or twice Mel and Mark's eyes met, but they said nothing until they were alone for a moment on the plane, after takeoff.

Mark filled her in on what to expect. “He could be like this for a while, you know.”

“How long does it usually last?”

“A week, sometimes two. Sometimes even a month, it depends on how responsible he feels and how close he was to the patient.”

Mel nodded. It didn't give her much to look forward to, certainly not on their honeymoon. And Mark was right. They landed in Puerto Vallarta and piled into two Jeeps to take them to their hotel where they had three rooms reserved, which looked out over the beach and water. There was an enormous open-air bar downstairs just below their windows, and three swimming pools filled with laughing, shouting people. And above all the other noises were the sounds of a steel band, interspersed from time to time with mariachis. It was a festive atmosphere and the children were thrilled, especially Jessica and Val, who had never been to Mexico before. Mark took them all downstairs to swim and have a soda at the bar, but Peter insisted on staying in their room. Mel tried to woo him out of his mood.

“How about a walk on the beach, love?”

“I don't feel like it, Mel. I'd really like to be alone. Why don't you join the children?” She wanted to snap at him that it was their honeymoon, not the children's, but she decided that it was wisest to say nothing at all. Maybe he would snap out of it quicker. So she left him.

But as the days rolled on, he didn't seem to improve. She went shopping in town with Pam and the twins and they bought beautiful embroidered blouses and dresses to wear in L.A. at the pool, and Mark took Matthew fishing twice. She took everyone except Matt to Carlos O'Brien's for Cokes and people-watching several times and she even took the older ones to a disco one night, but Peter never joined them at all. He was obsessed with what had happened to Marie, and several times a day he would spend an hour in the room trying to get a line to L.A. to check on his current patients.

“It really wasn't worth coming, for you to sit in your room all week long, calling Center City,” Mel finally snapped at him toward the end of their stay, but he only looked at her with empty eyes.

“I told you that at home, but you didn't want to disappoint the children.”

“This is our honeymoon, not theirs.” She had finally said it. She was bitterly disappointed. He had made no effort all week, and they hadn't even made love since Marie had died. A honeymoon to remember it was not.

“I'm sorry, Mel. It was just rotten timing. I'll make it up to you later.” But she wondered if he ever could. And suddenly she realized that she didn't even have her own home to return to when the trip was over. She suddenly missed the house in New York more than ever, and thinking of it reminded her of the photographs of Anne she wanted to put away when they returned. And she wondered what Peter would do with her portrait. It was her house now too, and she didn't want to look at Anne every time she turned around. That seemed normal, at least to Mel, but she wasn't going to broach the subject until they returned to Los Angeles. She still called it L.A. whenever she spoke of it, and never home, because it wasn't home yet. New York was. She noticed that with the twins too; when they were at Carlos O'Brien's, some boys asked Jessica where they were from and she answered “New York” without thinking and then Mark teased her and she explained that they had just moved to L.A. But other adjustments came more quickly. Mel noticed that they referred to each other as brothers and sisters, except for Mark and Val, who had reason not to adopt those titles.

And the only one to get sick was Valerie, on the last day. She bought an ice cream on the beach, and when Mel heard what she'd done she groaned as she stood by Val, while she threw up for hours and then had diarrhea all night. Peter wanted to give her something but she absolutely refused to take it, and when Mel finally came to bed at four in the morning, he awoke, his medical instincts alert.

“How is she?”

“Asleep at last. Poor child. I've never seen anyone so sick. I don't know why she wouldn't take the Lomotil you offered her, she isn't usually that stubborn.”

“Mel, is she all right?” He was frowning and thinking of something.

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know. I don't know her that well. But she looks different than she did in Aspen, and at Thanksgiving.”

“Different how?”

“I'm not sure what I mean, to tell you the truth. Just a feeling. Has she had a checkup lately?”

“You're making me nervous. What are you suspecting?” She expected nothing less than the threat of leukemia, but he shook his head.

“Anemia maybe. She seems to sleep a lot, and Pam says she threw up after Christmas dinner.”

Mel sighed. “I think it's nerves. Jess looks lousy to me too. I think the move was a big change for them, and they're at a tough age for that. But maybe you're right. I'll take them both to the doctor when we get back.”

“I'll give you the name of the internist we use. But don't worry about it.” He kissed her for the first time in days. “I don't think it's serious, and I think you may be right. Girls at that age tend to nervous upsets. It's just that ever since Pam had anorexia last year, my antennae go up every time something seems off to me. It's probably nothing.”

But in Pam's room, Mark was sitting beside her bed. He had waited for hours for Mel to leave, and Val was awake now, and terribly weak from her bout with tourista. She was crying softly and Mark was stroking her hair, as they both whispered so as not to wake Jessie or Pam.

“Do you think it'll hurt the baby?” Val whispered to Mark, and he looked at her miserably. She had found out two days after she arrived from New York. He had taken her for a pregnancy test. And they both knew when it had happened. When they finally made love for the first time, on Thanksgiving. Val looked terrified now. They hadn't decided what to do about it yet, but if they decided to have it, she didn't want to have a deformed baby.

“I don't know. Did you take any medicine?”

“No,” she whispered. “Your dad tried to give me some, but I wouldn't take it.” Mark nodded, but that was the least of their problems. She was only five weeks pregnant, but that meant that they had less than two months to do something about it, if she would.

“Do you think you can sleep now?” She nodded, her eyes already half closed and he bent to kiss her, and then tiptoed out of the room. He had wanted to tell his dad, but he couldn't with Christmas and the wedding and everything, and Val had begged him not to. He had to take her to a good doctor, if she was going to get an abortion, not to some crummy clinic, but he was waiting to talk to her about it until they got back to L.A. There was no point discussing it here. There was nothing they could do, and it would just make her more nervous.

“Mark?” Jessica turned in her bed as he was about to leave the room. His departing noises had awoken her. “What's wrong?” She sat up and glanced from him to her sister.

“I just came to see how Val was.” Val was already sleeping and he didn't approach from the doorway.

“Is something wrong?” She must have been totally out of it, Mark decided if she didn't remember how sick Val had been all day with the tourista.

“She got sick from something she ate.”

“I mean, more than that.”

“No, she's okay.” But he was shaking when he got back to his own room. Jessie sensed something, and he knew what they said about twins, that they were practically psychic about each other. All he needed was for her to say something to his dad or their mother and all hell would break loose. He wanted to take care of it himself. He had to. There was no other way.

CHAPTER 27

They left for L.A. the morning of New Year's Eve with Val still weak, but well enough to go home. And they got back to the house at four in the afternoon, tired and suntanned and happy with their trip. Peter had finally consented to come out of seclusion for the last day, and a good time was had by all. Even Mel. Although it hadn't been much of a honeymoon for her, to say the least. He apologized to her on the flight home, and she told him she understood. At least she had gotten some rest before she started work at the network in L.A. She had to report at noon the next day, on New Year's Day, and at six o'clock that night she would begin coanchoring with Paul Stevens. He had been at the station for years, and although he had some devoted fans, his ratings were starting to slip, and they were bringing Mel in to pull him up again. The network felt that together they should make an unbeatable team. He was tall, gray-haired, and blue-eyed, with a resonant deep voice, and a style which appealed to the ladies, the surveys showed. Mel had a strong female draw too, and the surveys all showed that men loved her as well. With the two of them coanchoring on the air, the network knew that they had a prize show, and even if Stevens slipped further, Mel could carry him. But it was the first time that Paul Stevens had ever coanchored, and he was less than thrilled, and for Mel it was a step down too, as she had been sole anchor now for years. It was going to be a humbling experience for both, she knew, and a lesson in diplomacy, working with him.

Peter and Mel decided to stay home on New Year's Eve, and drink champagne by the fire, and Mark took Val and Jessie out to a couple of parties he'd been invited to. Mel was pleased that he had included Jessie as well, although she didn't look too thrilled to go and Val wasn't in top form yet. Mel suggested that they not stay out too late, and warned them to be careful driving, and then she went upstairs to check on Pam, who had a friend sleeping over. Matt was asleep in his bed with a noisemaker beside him. He wanted someone to wake him up a midnight so he could blow his horn, but Mel correctly assumed that there would be no one awake in the house by midnight to wake him up. She was half tempted to wait up for Mark and the twins but she and Peter were exhausted. And as he sat in bed reading some of his medical journals, Mel wandered around the house, trying to make herself feel as though it were her home now too, but it just didn't feel like it yet. And then she remembered, as she saw the photographs of Anne in the silver frames. She began gathering them up one by one, there was a grand total of twenty-three, and she put them all in a drawer in Peter's study, and as she crossed the living room with the last batch in her arms, she saw Pam standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting some pictures away.” There was a strange exchange of looks and Mel saw that Pam was rigid as she stood there.

“Of who?”

“Your mother.” Mel's voice didn't waver.

“Put them back!” Her voice was almost a snarl, and Mel saw that the friend who was sleeping overnight was standing just behind her.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, put them back. This is my mother's house, not yours.” If Mel didn't know her better she would have said she was drunk. But she wasn't. She was just extremely angry and upset, so much so that she was shaking where she stood.

“I think we can discuss this some other time, Pam. When we're alone.” Mel was determined not to lose her cool, but she found that she was shaking too.

“Give me those!” And then suddenly, Pam lunged at her, but Mel saw her coming and dropped the pictures into a chair and grabbed Pam's arms before she could do any damage. She held her fast and spoke to her in a stern voice.

“Go to your room. Right now!” It was nothing different than she would have said to the twins. But Pam ignored her and frantically picked up all the framed photographs Mel had dropped into a chair. And she stood glaring at Mel with her arms full.

“I hate you!”

“You're welcome to all the photographs you like. I put the rest in your father's study.”

Pam ignored her. “This is our house, ours, and my mother's, and don't you forget it!” Mel's palm itched to slap her, but it seemed unwise in the presence of her friend. Instead, she took a firm grip on Pam's shoulder and propelled her to the door.

“Go upstairs to your room right now, Pam. Or I'm going to call your friend's mother and ask her to pick her up. Is that clear?” Pam said not a word, she trundled upstairs with the photographs of her mother, and her embarrassed friend Joan trailing behind her, as Mel stayed long enough to turn off the lights downstairs and then went up to her bedroom, where Peter was still happily reading his journals. Mel stood staring at him for a long moment, aware that at least some of what Pam had said was true. It was their house. Mel hadn't even been allowed to put her furniture in it. And it still had Anne's mark on it everywhere.

Still trembling from her encounter with Pam, Mel stared at Peter as he looked up.” I want that portrait taken down tomorrow.”

“What portrait?” He looked at her as though she were crazy, and she almost looked it.

“The one of your late wife.” She spoke through clenched teeth and he was totally baffled. Maybe the champagne had gone to her head.

“Why?”

“Because this is my house now too, not hers. And I want it taken down. Immediately!” She was almost shouting at him.

“It's by a very famous artist.” He started to stiffen too. Her attitude seemed totally uncalled for and he knew nothing of the exchange with Pam.

“I don't give a shit who it's by. Get rid of it. Throw it out. Burn it. Give it away. Do whatever the hell you want with it, but get it out of my living room!” She was suddenly on the verge of tears as he stared at her in disbelief.

“What in hell is wrong with you, Mel?”

“What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me? You move me into a house where not so much as a hat pin is mine, where everything belongs to you and your children and you've got photographs of your first wife all over the house, and I'm supposed to feel at home?”

He was beginning to understand, or so he thought, but she still sounded irrational. And why now? “Then put the photographs away if you want to. But you didn't object to them before.”

“I didn't live here before. But I do now.”

“Apparently.” He was getting annoyed.” I suppose you don't find the decor adequate for you?” There was suddenly a nasty tone in his voice.

“It's perfectly adequate, if you don't mind living in Versailles. Personally, I'd rather live in a house, a home, something a little warmer and on a slightly more human scale.”

“Like that dollhouse you had in New York, I suppose?”

“Precisely.” They stood across the room from each other as each one steamed.

“Fine. Then put the photographs away if you want. But the portrait stays.” He said it just to annoy her, because he didn't like the way she'd broached the subject at all, and Mel's mouth almost fell open.

“The hell it does.” And then, “It goes or I do.”

“Doesn't that sound ridiculous to you? You're behaving like a complete horse's ass, or weren't you aware of that?”

“And you're behaving like a total prick. You expect all the adjustments to be mine, and you don't change a thing, not even the photographs of your wife.”

“Then have some photographs taken of yourself and we'll put those around too.” He was being nasty now and he knew it, but he was tired of hearing her bitch about Anne's pictures. He had thought of putting them away once or twice himself, but the thought depressed him and he didn't want to upset the children. And he reminded her of that now.” I don't suppose you've thought of what reaction you'd get if you threw that portrait out.”

“Oh, yes, I already know that.” She advanced on him with a vicious look.” I was just putting the photographs in question in your study, and your daughter informed me that this is your house and not mine, or more exactly, her mother's.”

And suddenly Peter understood it all. He sat down with drooping shoulders and looked up at Mel. He could just imagine the scene with Pam, and that explained Mel's behavior to him. It hadn't made any sense before. He didn't think she was given to rages. “Did she say that, Mel?” His voice was kinder now, and his eyes were too.

“She did.” Mel's eyes filled with tears and she still did not approach her husband.

“I'm sorry.” He beckoned to her but she didn't approach and she was crying openly now. He went to her and put his arms around her. “I'm so sorry, love. You know this is your home too.” He held her and she began to sob. “I'll take the portrait down tomorrow, it was stupid of me.”

“No, no, it's not that … it's just …”

“I know …”

“It's so hard to get used to living in someone else's house. I'm so used to having my own.” He sat her down beside him on the bed.

“I know … but this is your home now too.”

She looked up at him and sniffed. “No, it's not. Everything is yours and Anne's … I don't even have any of my own things around.” Peter looked pensive as he listened to her.

“Everything I have is yours, Mel.” But she wanted her own, not his.

“Just give me time. I'll get used to it all. I'm just tired, and there's been so much going on, and Pam upset me with what she said just now.” Peter kissed his wife and stood up.

“I'll go up and talk her.”

“No ! Let me handle that. If you intervene, she'll just resent me more.”

“She loves you. I know she does.” But there was worry in his eyes.

“But it's different now. I was just a guest before, and now I'm an intruder in her house.”

Peter looked even more upset at that. Was that how she felt?

“You're not an intruder. You're my wife. I hope you remember that.”

She smiled through her tears.” I do! There's just a lot going on at once, and tomorrow I start my new job.”

“I know.” He understood, but it made him sad to see her cry, and he vowed to himself to take Anne's portrait down the next day. She was right. “Why don't we both go to bed early tonight? We're both tired and it's been a rough week.” Mel didn't disagree. Moving from New York, their wedding, honeymoon, Marie's death … They brushed their teeth and went to bed and he held her close to him in the dark, feeling her warm flesh next to him. This was what he had longed for in the past six months … more than that, the last two years … and even before that, it had never been like that with Anne. She had been so much more distant than Mel. Mel seemed almost like a part of him, and for the first time in a week he felt something deep inside him stir, and as he held her close, he wanted her as never before. And when the old year became the new, he was making love to her.

CHAPTER 28

As per her new contract, negotiated while she was still in New York, the limo arrived for Mel in the early afternoon, and drove her to the station where she would work. And as she walked inside, she was aware of a hundred stares. There was incredible curiosity about her. Mel Adams was starting work. She was introduced to the producers, assistant producers and directors and cameramen and editors and grips, and suddenly despite the new surroundings, Mel felt as though she were in a familiar world. It was no different from New York or Chicago or Buffalo before that. A studio was a studio, and as she looked around the office she was assigned, she suddenly sighed and sat down. In a way, it felt like coming home. She spent the entire afternoon familiarizing herself with the people who came and went, the features and interviews recently done. She had a glass of wine with the producer and his crew, and at five thirty Paul Stevens arrived. The producer introduced them at once, and Mel smiled as they shook hands.

“It'll be nice working with you, Paul.”

“Wish I could say the same.” He shook her hand and walked away, as the producer attempted to fill the awkward gap and Mel raised an eyebrow and turned away.

“Well, at least I know where I stand.” She grinned ruefully. But it wasn't going to be easy working with him. He was furious to have a female anchor share his spot, and he was going to make Mel pay for it in every way he could. She discovered that instantly when they went on the air that night. He was saccharine sweet whenever he spoke to her, but he undercut her and upstaged her in every way he could, trying to make her nervous, throw her off, and generally drive her insane. And it was so obvious to her that his outrage was acute that when they went off the air, she stood in front of Paul's desk and looked down at him. “Is there anything we ought to talk about right now, before this thing gets out of hand?”

“Sure. How would you like to split your paycheck with me? I'm splitting my spot with you, that seems only fair.” His eyes glittered evilly, and Mel understood what the problem was. The papers had long since leaked what her contract was, and it was probably three times what they paid him, but that wasn't her fault.

“I can't help the arrangements the network made with me, Paul. It was a price war with New York. You know what that's like.”

“No, but I'd like to try.” He had been trying to get to New York for years, and she had just thrown it away, and come to breathe down his neck. He hated the bitch, no matter how good they said she was. He didn't need her coanchoring with him. He stood up now and almost snarled at her. “Just stay out of my face, and we'll do okay. Got that?”

She looked at him sadly and turned and walked away. It wasn't going to be easy working with him, and she thought about it all the way home. She only had to do the six o'clock here, for the same money she'd been offered to do the six and eleven in New York. L.A. had really done well by her. And Paul Stevens hated her for it.

“How'd it go? You looked great.” Peter looked proud of her when she came home, and everyone was still gathered around the set, but Mel didn't looked pleased.

“I've got a coanchor who hates my guts. That ought to make work fun.” That, and Pam reminding her that she lived in Peter and Anne's home, she thought, as she hung up her coat.

“He'll mellow out.”

She didn't look as sure. “I wouldn't bet on that. I think he's hoping I drop dead or go back to New York.” Mel's eyes drifted to Pam, wondering what she'd see there, but the girl's eyes were blank. And when Mel glanced at the living room wall, she saw that the portrait was gone, and she was thrilled. She threw her arms around Peter's neck, feeling better after all, and whispered in his ear. “Thank you, my love.” Pam knew what they were talking about. She got up and left the room as the others watched, and Peter spoke in a normal voice.

“I hung Anne's portrait in the hall.”

Mel froze. “You did? I thought you said you'd put it away.”

“It won't bother anybody there.” Oh, no? Their eyes met and held. “You don't mind, do you?”

She spoke in a very quiet voice. “As a matter of fact, I do. That wasn't what we agreed.”

“I know …” And then he turned to her, “It's a little rough on the kids to do everything at once. All the photographs are gone.” Mel nodded and didn't say a word, she went upstairs to her room to wash her face and hands, and then joined them at dinner, and afterward she knocked on Pam's door.

“Who is it?”

“Your wicked stepmother.” She smiled at the door.

“Who?”

“Mel.”

“What do you want?”

“I've got something to give you.” And when Pam cautiously opened the door to her room, Mel handed her a dozen photographs of Anne in silver frames. “I thought you'd like these for your room.”

Pam glanced at them and then took them from her. “Thanks.” But she said nothing more. She simply turned and closed the door in Mel's face and Mel went back downstairs.

“Were you upstairs with Pam?” Peter was pleased as she walked into their room. He was reading his medical journals again. He had to keep abreast of what was new.

“Yes. I took her some of the photographs of Anne.”

“You know, that really shouldn't be such an issue with you, Mel.”

“Oh, no?” He really didn't understand and she was too tired to argue about it with him. “Why not?”

“Because she's gone.” He said it so quietly, Mel had to strain to hear.

“I know. But it's difficult living here with her photographs staring at me all the time.”

“You're exaggerating. There weren't that many around.”

“I put twenty-three of them in your study last night. That's not bad. I just gave a dozen of them to Pam. And I thought I'd put some in Matt's and Mark's rooms. That's where they belong.” Peter didn't answer and went back to the journals on his lap, as Mel stretched out on the bed. The producer had suggested she do as many special features as she could in the next month. They were desperate to pull their ratings up, and historically her interviews had worked miracles for the news show in New York. She had promised to do her best, and had already made notes about half a dozen subjects that interested her. But she could just imagine what Paul Stevens was going to say when he got wind of that. Maybe all she could do was ignore the man, but the following night, he was rude to her as she came on the set, and despite his charm while they were on the air, she had the feeling that he would have liked to punch her out when they went off. It was really an untenable way to work, and not what she was used to at all. But she submitted her list of possible interviews to the producer that night, and he loved almost all of them, which was both good news and bad. It meant that she would be working overtime for the next month or two, but maybe that was one way to settle in. It was always strange working for a network at first. It was just a little stranger for her this time because she was feeling her way around at home as well.

“Busy day today?” Peter looked at her distractedly as he came in and she smiled. She had gotten home at seven fifteen, and he was even later than that. It was almost eight o'clock.

“Pretty much.” She was in a quiet mood. The hassles with Paul Stevens wore her out.

“Is that guy behaving any better man before? Paul What's His Name?”

She smiled. Everyone in L.A. knew his name, whether they liked him or not. “No. I think he was a little worse.”

“Sonofabitch.”

“What about you?” The kids had gone back to school, and had eaten dinner at six. Mel and Peter were eating at eight.

“Three bypasses in a row. It wasn't a very exciting day.”

“I'm doing an interview with Louisa Garp.” She was the biggest star in Hollywood.

“You are?”

“I am.”

“When?”

“Next week. She accepted today.” Mel looked pleased and Peter was obviously impressed. “Hell, I even did Dr. Peter Hallam once.” She smiled and he reached out and took her hand. They were both so busy now. They both had such hectic jobs. He hoped it didn't mean they'd never be able to spend time with each other. That wasn't the kind of life he liked. He liked knowing that his wife was there for him. And he wanted to be there for her too.

“I missed you today, Mel.”

“I missed you too.” But she also knew what the next two months would be like. She was going to scarcely see him at all. But maybe after that things would settle down.

They sat in the living room after dinner and talked for a while and Pam came down. Peter stretched an arm out to her. “How's my girl?” She came to him with a smile. “Did you know that Mel is doing an interview with Louisa Garp?”

“So?” She seemed to be bitchy all the time now, as though Mel were a real threat to her, and Peter looked annoyed.

“That's not a very pleasant thing to say.”

“Oh yeah?” She was asking for it, but Mel didn't say a word. “So what? I got an A on my art history paper today.”

“That's great!” Peter let the second comment slide by. Mel was furious and when the girl left Mel told him so. “What did you want me to say? Last year the kid was flunking out, now she tells me she got an A.”

“Terrific. But that doesn't cancel out her being rude to me.”

“For chrissake, Mel, give her time to adjust.” He was tired now. He'd had a long day. And he didn't want to come home to argue with Mel. “Let's go upstairs to our room and close the door.” But as soon as they did, Jess came in, and Mel gently asked her to leave.

“Why?” She looked shocked.

“Because I haven't seen Peter all day, and we want to talk.”

“I haven't seen you either.” She was clearly hurt.

“I know. But we can talk in the morning, Jess. Peter will be at the hospital by then.” He left the room to take a shower and Mel kissed her cheek but Jess drew away.

“Never mind.”

“Jess, come on … it's hard cutting myself into pieces for everyone. Give me a chance.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“How's Val?”

“How do I know? Ask her. She doesn't talk to me anymore, and you don't have time to talk to us.”

“That's not fair.”

“Isn't it? It's true though. I take it he comes first.” She nodded toward the bathroom door.

“Jess, I'm married now. If I'd been married all these years, it would have been different than it was.”

“So I gather. Personally, I preferred it before.” “Jessie …” Mel felt agonized as she looked at her oldest child. “What's the matter with you?”

“Nothing.” But tears filled her eyes, and she sat down on her mother's bed, trying not to cry. “It's just … I don't know …” She shook her head in despair and looked up at Mel. “It's everything … a new school, a new room … I'll never see any of my friends again … I have to share a room with Val and she's such a pig. She takes all my stuff and she never gives it back.” They were big problems to her and Mel's heart went out to her. “And she cries all the time.”

“She does?” And just saying it made Mel think. She realized that Val had been crying a lot in the last few weeks. Maybe Peter had been right, and Val was sick. “Is she all right, Jess?”

“I don't know. She acts weird. And she's always with Mark.” Mel made a mental note to say something again about that.

“I'll talk to them again.”

“It won't change anything. She's in his room all the time.”

Mel frowned.” I specifically told her not to do that.” But there were other things that Mel had also specifically told her not to do, and Jess knew perfectly well that she did, but she would never have told her mother that. Mel put her arms around Jessica then and kissed her cheek and Jessie looked at her with a sad smile.

“I'm sorry if I was a bitch.”

“It's hard on all of us at first, but we'll get used to it. I'm sure it's hard on Pam and Mark and Matt to have us in the house too. Let's give everyone a little time to settle down.”

“What's all this?” Peter came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist and smiled at Jess. “Hi, Jess. Everything okay?”

“Sure.” She smiled and stood up. She knew she should leave them alone. She turned to Mel. “Good night, Mom.” And as she left the room, it tore at Mel's heart to see her so sad. She didn't say anything to Peter about their exchange but it was one more burden on her heart as she went back to work the next day, and had to deal with Paul Stevens again, and that night when she came home, Peter called. There was an emergency he had to take care of himself, he'd be home in a “while,” and a while turned out to be eleven o'clock.

They never seemed to get off the merry-go-round anymore, and for the next three weeks she was constantly out doing interviews, fighting with Paul Stevens before or after the show, or listening to Jessie and Val's complaints when she got home. Mrs. Hahn wouldn't let them in the kitchen for a snack. Pam was taking their clothes, Jess said that Val and Mark were locked in his room all the time, and to top it off at the end of January, Mel got a call from Matt's school. He had fallen out of a swing in the playground and broken his arm. Peter met them in the emergency room with an orthopedist friend, and Mel joked tiredly that it was the first time they'd seen each other in weeks. He had had emergencies almost every night, endless bypasses to do, and two potential transplant patients had died for lack of donors' hearts.

“Do you think we'll survive, Mel?”

She collapsed on their bed in exhaustion one night. “Some days I'm not sure. I've never done so many goddamn interviews in my life.” And she still felt as though she were living in someone else's home, which didn't help, but she hadn't had time to do anything about it yet. And she hadn't even had time to tackle the frozen Mrs. Hahn. “I wish you'd get rid of her,” Mel finally admitted to Peter one afternoon.

“Mrs. Hahn?” He looked shocked. “She's been with us for years.”

“Well, she's making life very tough for Val and Jess, and she certainly isn't pleasant to me. This might be a good time for a change.” There were a lot of changes she wanted to make around the house, but she didn't have time.

“That's an insane idea, Mel.” He looked angry at the mere thought. “She's part of this family.”

“So was Raquel part of ours, and I had to leave her in New York.”

“And you resent me for that?” He was wondering if in transplanting Mel, he had asked too much. She was testy with him now all the time, and he knew that she wasn't crazy about her job. The money was fabulous, there was no denying that, but the conditions weren't as good as those she had known before, there was the endless problem with Paul Stevens, she said. “You blame everything on me, don't you?” He was looking for a fight. For no reason he could explain, that morning a perfectly decent bypass patient had died.

“I'm not blaming anything on you.” She looked desperately tired as they talked. “But the fact is that we both have enormous jobs that make tremendous demands on us, five kids, and a very demanding life. I want to make things easier in every possible way. And Mrs. Hahn is complicating things.”

“Maybe for you, but not for the rest of us.” He looked stubbornly at Mel and she wanted to scream.

“And don't I live here too? Christ, between you and Pam …”

“Now what?” The remark didn't miss its mark.

“Nothing. She just resents our being here. I expected that.”

“And you don't think your daughters resent me? You're crazy if you think they don't. They're used to having a hundred percent of your time, and every time we close our bedroom door now, they get pissed off.”

“I can't help that, any more than you can change Pam. They all need time to adjust, but Jess and Val have had the biggest change in their lives.”

“The hell they did. Pam lost her mom.”

“I' m sorry.” There was no talking about it with him, or touching the sacred subject of Anne. Mel had noticed that a few of Anne's pictures had gone back up, but she hadn't brought up the subject again, and her portrait was still in the hall.

“So am I.”

“No, you're not.” Mel wouldn't let the argument die, which was not wise. “You expect us to make all the adjustments around here.”

“Is that right? Well, just exactly what do you think I ought to do? Move to New York?”

“No.” She looked him straight in the eye. “Move to a new house.”

“That's absurd.”

“No, it's not, but changes scare you to death. When I came along, you were still sitting around with everything the same, waiting for Anne to come home. And now you've moved me into her house. It's okay for me to turn my whole life upside down, but you want everything just the way it was. And guess what? That doesn't work.”

“Maybe it's the marriage you want to move out of, Mel, and not the house.”

She stood staring at him from across the room, in total frustration and despair. “Are you ready to quit?”

He sat down heavily in his favorite chair. “Sometimes I am.” He looked up at her honestly. “Why do you want to change everything, Mel? Mrs. Hahn, the house, why can't you leave things as they are?”

“Because everything here is changed, whether you want to admit that or not. I'm not Anne, I'm me, Mel, and I want a life that's ours, not borrowed from someone else.”

“This is a new life.” But he didn't sound convinced.

“In an old house. Jess and Val and I feel like intruders here.”

“Maybe you're just looking for an excuse to go back to New York.” His face was grim, and Mel wanted to cry.

“Is that what you think?”

“Sometimes.” He was being honest with her.

“Well, let me explain something to you. I have a contract here. If you and I called it quits tonight, I'd still be stuck here for two years, like it or not. I can't go back to New York.”

“And you hate me for that.” It was a statement of his view of the facts.

“I don't hate you for anything. I love you.” She came and knelt beside his chair. “And I want this to work, but it isn't going to happen by itself. We both have to be willing to change.” She reached up and gently touched his face.

“I guess …” Tears suddenly began to fill his eyes and he turned his head away and then looked back again.” I guess I thought … we could keep a lot of things … the same …”

“I know.” She reached up and kissed him. “And I love you so much, but there's so much going on that my head spins sometimes.”

“I know.” Somehow they always found each other after the fights, but there were so many fights these days. “I should have made you sign the contract in New York, Mel. It wasn't fair to drag you out here.”

“Yes, it was.” She smiled through her own tears. “And you didn't drag me anywhere. I didn't want to stay in New York. All I wanted was to be here with you.”

“And now?” He looked frightened of what she would say.

“I'm glad we came. And in a while, it'll all fall into place.”

He took her hand then and led her gently to the bed and they made love as they had before, and Mel knew she had found him again. She didn't regret any of what she had done, but it had taken its toll, and there were pressures on all of them. She just hoped they'd all survive it, but with Peter strong at her side, she knew they would.

The only misery he couldn't seem to protect her from was at work, and in February he looked at her one night as she came home almost in tears.

“My God, if you only knew what an asshole that man is.” Paul Stevens was driving her insane. “One of these nights I'm going to kill him right on the set, when we're on the air.”

“Now that would be news.” He looked sympathetically at her. For once, things were a little quieter for him at work. “I have an idea.”

“A hit man. That's the only thing I want to hear.”

“Better than that.”

“Cement shoes.”

Peter laughed. “Let's all go skiing this weekend. It'll do everyone good. I'm not on call, and I hear the snow is great.” Mel looked wan at the thought. Just the idea of packing them all up exhausted her. “What do you think?”

“I don't know.” She hated to be a spoilsport and for once Peter was in such a good mood. She smiled at him and he put his arms around her. “Okay.” At least they'd get away from the problems in the house.

Is it a deal?”

“Yes, Doctor.” She grinned, and went upstairs to tell the kids, but she found that Val was in bed with what looked like a bad case of flu. She was deathly pale, half asleep in bed, and when Mel touched her forehead, she felt terribly hot. And Mark was sitting worriedly near her bed. It didn't look any different than the flus she had gotten so frequently in New York. She was made of much less rugged stuff than Jess. “I've got good news,” she told Mark and the twins in the girls' room. “Peter's taking us all skiing this weekend.” They all looked pleased but their reaction was subdued. Mark seemed terribly involved with Val, and Jessica seemed vague as she glanced at her twin.

“That's nice.” Val was the first to speak, but her voice sounded terribly weak.

“You okay, love?” She sat down on Val's bed, and the girl winced.

“I'm fine. Just the flu.”

Mel nodded, but she was still worried about Val. “You think you'll be okay by this weekend, Val?”

“Sure.”

Mel went down the hall then to tell Pam and Matt and then came back with some aspirin and juice for Val, and then she went back downstairs.

“Everyone pleased?”

“I think so. But Val's sick.”

“What's she got?” He looked concerned. “Should I go have a look?”

Mel smiled, but she knew her daughter better than that. “I think she'd be embarrassed if you did. It's just the flu.”

He nodded. “She'll be all right by the end of the week.”

“I still have to get her to that internist you mentioned to me.” But every time she had suggested it to Val, she had burst into tears and insisted she was fine. And when they flew to Reno at the end of the week, and piled into a van for Squaw Valley, Val still looked terribly pale, but all of her other symptoms seemed to be gone, and Mel had other worries by then. Paul Stevens had made a major scene on the set just before they went on the air the night before she left for Reno. It was becoming an agony to go to work, and she dreaded each day more, but she was determined to stick it out no matter what. But the weekends were a blessed relief now, especially this ski trip to Squaw Valley.

Peter had rented a van for them at the Reno airport, and they piled into it in high spirits, singing songs, helping each other with skis and bags. Peter stopped to kiss Mel before they climbed in the van, and the kids all hung out of the windows and hooted and cheered. Even Pam seemed in better spirits than she had been in over a month, and Val had a little color in her cheeks as they took off for Squaw Valley, and by the time they got there, everyone was laughing and joking and Mel was delighted that they had come. It would do them all good to leave L.A. and the house which was becoming such a source of contention between her and Peter.

He had found them a pleasant little condo, in a place where he and his children had stayed before. It was small but adequate for them. They slept as they had in Mexico, the girls in one room, the boys in another, and Mel and Peter in a third. And by lunchtime they were on the slopes, whooping and laughing and chasing each other down the mountain. As usual, Mark stayed close to Val, but there seemed to be less frivolity between them than there had been before, and Jess and Pam raced down the steepest trails with Matt just behind them.

At the end of their first run, Mel stopped breathlessly at the foot of the mountain and stood beside Peter as they waited for the others. It was exhilarating just to be there in the fresh mountain air, and Mel felt younger than she had in a long, long time. She looked at Peter with joy, and watched their children coming down the hill from over his shoulder.

“Aren't you glad we came up, Mel?”

She looked happily into his eyes. He was handsomer than ever, his blue eyes bright, his cheeks pink, his whole body filled with life. “You know, you make me so damn happy.”

“Do I?” He looked hopeful, he loved her so much, he had never wanted to make her unhappy, but now and then he feared that he had, just by the very fact that he had brought her west and indirectly forced her into another job. Sort of like a mail-order bride. He smiled at the thought. “I hope so. There's so much I want to do with you, and give you.”

“I know.” She understood him better than he knew. “But we have so little time. Maybe as time goes on, we'll get better at juggling it all.” But there would always be interviews, and features and news reports she had to do, and there would always be people who needed new hearts, or their old ones repaired. “At least the children will settle down.”

“I wouldn't bet on that.” He laughed as he watched the five of them zoom toward them, with Matthew bringing up the rear, but not by much. He was almost as swift as the others. “Not bad, you guys. Shall we try it one more time? Or do you want to stop for lunch now?” They had eaten on the plane, and bought sandwiches to eat in the van in Reno, but Jess was quick to speak up.

“I think Val should eat.” Mel was touched at how she still looked after her twin, and then noticed how pale the child was. She moved toward her, still on skis, and touched her forehead. She had no fever.

“You feeling okay, Val?”

“Sure, Mom.” But her eyes seemed a little vague, and on their way back up the mountain, Mel mentioned it to Peter again on the chair lift.

“I've got to get her to the doctor when we get home, no matter how much she cries and screams. I don't know why she's so dead set against going to a new doctor.”

Peter smiled as they floated through the air, past the enormous pine trees on the way up the mountain. “Two years ago I had to take Pam to her pediatrician for a checkup for school, and she ran all around the room, screaming so he couldn't give her her tetanus booster. The truth is that no matter how tall they are, or how big the boobs, they're all kids. It's easy to forget it sometimes, because they seem so sophisticated. But it's all veneer. Underneath, they're no more mature than Matthew.”

Mel smiled her agreement as their skis dangled crazily in midair. “You're right about Val, but I don't think that's true of Jessie. That kid has been an old soul from the day she was born, and she's always looked out for her sister. Sometimes I think I rely on her too much.”

Peter looked at her and spoke very gently. “Sometimes I think you do too. She's been looking upset since you got out here. Is it me, or is she jealous of Val and Mark?” She hadn't been aware of the tension emanating from Jessie like barbed wire, and Mel was surprised that he had noticed. He was amazingly perceptive, particularly considering how little he saw of them because of his long hours in the hospital and in his office.

“I think it may be a little bit of both. She's used to having me to herself more than she does now. And I've been trying to iron things out with Pam, and Matthew needs me more than the others. He's been hungry for some loving for two years.”