Fine things

“What made you go into medicine?” She had to be so dedicated, he had always been impressed by, but never attracted to, that life. And he had known since he was a child that he didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps.

“My father is a doctor,” she explained. “He's in obstetrics and gynecology, which didn't appeal to me. But pediatrics did. And my brother is a psychiatrist. My mother wanted to be a nurse during the war, but she only made it as far as the Red Cross volunteers. I guess we all have the medical bug. Congenital,” she pronounced and they both laughed. They had all gone to Harvard as well, which she didn't mention to him. She seldom did. She had gone to Radcliffe, and then Stanford Med School, and had graduated second in her class, a fact that mattered very little now. She was busy doing what she did, healing hot ears, and giving shots and setting bones, and curing coughs, and being there for the children she loved and took care of.

“My father is a doctor.” Bernie looked pleased that they had something in common. “Ear, nose, and throat. Somehow it never seemed very exciting to me. Actually, I wanted to teach literature in a prep school in New England.” It sounded silly now. The era of his passion for Russian literature seemed a thousand years ago and he laughed thinking of it. “I often suspect that Wolffs has saved me from a fate worse than death. I wanted to work for a small school in a sleepy town, as I thought of it, and thank God none of them wanted me, or I might have become an alcoholic by now.” They both laughed at the thought. “Or hanged myself. It's a hell of a lot better selling shoes and fur coats and French bread than living in a place like that.”

She laughed at the description he offered of Wolffs. “Is that how you see yourself?”

“More or less.” Their eyes met and they felt a sudden inexplicable bond.

They were chatting easily about the store when her buzzer went off after that. She excused herself and went to the phone and came back to report that she had to meet someone at the hospital.

“Nothing terrible, I hope.” Bernie looked worried, and she smiled. She was used to this. In fact, it was obvious that she loved it.

“Just a bump on the head, but I want to take a look at him, just in case.” She was cautious, reasonable, and as good a doctor as he had suspected. “It was nice to see you again, Bernard.” She held out a hand, and it was cool and firm in his own, and for the first time he noticed the perfume she wore as she stepped closer to him. It was sexy and feminine in the same way she was, yet not overpowering.

“Come and see me at the store next time you come in. I'll sell you some French bread myself to prove that I know where it is.”

She laughed. “I still think you ought to open the store of your dreams here in Napa.”

“I'd love that.” But it was only a dream. And his time in California was almost over. Their eyes met then, and she left him regretfully, thanked their host, and was gone. He heard the Austin Healy roaring away, and saw her hair flying out behind a moment later. He left the party and went home, a short time afterwards, thinking of Megan, wondering if he'd see her again, and surprised by how much he liked her and how pretty she had looked in the gypsy blouse with the bare shoulders.

Chapter 36

A month later, on a rainy Saturday, Bernie was in Saint Helena doing some errands for Nanny, when he walked out of the hardware store and bumped into Megan again. She was wearing a long yellow slicker and red rubber boots, with a bright red scarf over her dark hair. And she looked startled as they collided, their arms full of packages, and she gave him a friendly smile. She had thought of him a number of times since they'd last met and she was obviously happy to see him.

“Well, hello again. How've you been?” Her eyes lit up like blue sapphires and he looked at her with pleasure as they stood there.

“Busy …fine …the usual …how are you?”

“Working too hard.” But she looked happy. “How're your kids?” It was a question she asked everyone, but she actually gave a damn and it showed.

“They're fine.” He smiled at her, feeling like a kid again himself and enjoying the feeling.

They were standing in the pouring rain, and he was wearing an old tweed hat and an English raincoat that had seen better days over his jeans and he suddenly squinted at her in the rain. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee or are you dashing off somewhere?” He remembered the beeper, and the bumped head she had run off to check on Labor Day when she left the party.

“Actually I'm through for the day, and I'd love it.” She pointed to a coffee shop just down the street and he hurried after her, wondering why he had invited her. He always liked her when they met, and then was annoyed at himself because he was attracted to her, and that didn't seem right to him. He had no business being attracted to her. There was the usual awkwardness as they found a table and sat down. She ordered a hot chocolate, and he a cappuccino and then he sat back and looked at her. It was extraordinary, as unadorned as she was, she was beautiful. She was one of those women who look plain at first, and then slowly one realizes that there's a great deal more to them, their features are beautiful, their eyes remarkable, their skin exceptional, and all put together it makes someone very special. But it is not all hung with bright lights that catch one's eye at first. “What are you looking at?” She saw him staring at her and was sure she looked terrible, but he smiled and cocked his head to one side, smiling at her.

“I was thinking how pretty you look in your slicker and boots and red scarf on your black hair.” He looked genuinely enraptured and she blushed furiously at the compliment and laughed at him.

“You must be blind, or drunk. I was probably the tallest girl in my class from kindergarten on. My brother said I had legs like lampposts and teeth like piano keys.” And hair like silk …and eyes like pale sapphires and …Bernie forced the thoughts from his mind and forced himself to say something ordinary to her.

“I think brothers always say things like that, don't they? I'm not sure, having been an only child, but it seems to me that their appointed role in life is to torment their sisters as best they can.”

She laughed at the memories he evoked. “Mine was good at it. Actually, I'm crazy about him. He's got six kids.” She smiled thoughtfully. And Bernie laughed. Another Catholic. His mother would be thrilled at the news. And suddenly the thought amused him. This was definitely not Mrs. Rosenthal's daughter, the model from Ohrbach's. But she was a doctor. His mother would have liked that, and so would his father. If that mattered. And then he reminded himself that this was only hot chocolate and coffee on a rainy afternoon in Napa.

“Is your brother Catholic?” Irish Catholics would explain her black hair, but she shook her head and laughed at the question.

“No. He's Episcopalian. He just loves kids. His wife says she wants twelve.” And Megan looked as though she envied them, and so did Bernie.

“I've always thought big families were wonderful,” he said as their hot drinks arrived. Hers covered with whipped cream and his coffee with steamed milk and nutmeg. He took a sip and glanced up at her, wondering who she was, where she had been, and if she had children of her own. He realized how little he knew of her. “You're not married, are you, Megan?” He didn't think she was anyway, but realized he didn't even know that for certain.

“Not much room for it, I'm afraid, with late night calls and eighteen-hour days.” Her work was what she loved best of all and it didn't really explain her single state. And suddenly she decided to be honest with him. Like Liz long before, she saw a man in him that she could be open and honest with, and talk straight to.

“I was engaged to someone a long time ago. He was a doctor too.” She smiled at Bernard and the openness he saw there caught him off guard like a physical blow. “After his residency, he was sent to Vietnam and killed just before I started my residency at UC.”

“How awful for you.” And he meant every word of it. He knew better than anyone the pain she must have gone through. But for her it had been a long time ago. She still missed Mark, but it wasn't the same anymore. It wasn't the same sharp pain Bernie was living with, barely more than a year after Liz had died. But he felt as though she understood him better now, and he felt a special kinship for her, which hadn't been there before.

“It was pretty rough. We'd already been engaged for four years, and he'd been waiting for me to graduate. He was at Harvard Med School when I was premed there. Anyway”— she averted her eyes and then looked back at him—“it was quite a blow, to say the least. I was going to take a year off and postpone my residency, but my parents talked me out of it. I even thought of giving up medicine completely, or going into research. I was pretty mixed up for a while. But my residency got me back on track again and then I came up here afterwards.” She smiled quietly at him, as though to tell him that one could survive a loss, however painful. “It's hard to believe it but it's been ten years since he died. I suppose I really haven't had time for anyone in my life since then.” She blushed and then laughed. “That's not to say I haven't gone out with anyone. But I've never gotten that serious with anyone again. Amazing, isn't it?” The fact that it had been ten years seemed remarkable to her. It seemed only yesterday since they'd left Boston together. She had gone to Stanford because of him, and she stayed out west afterwards because it was a way of staying closer to him. And now she couldn't imagine living in Boston again. “Sometimes I regret not getting married and having kids.” She smiled and took a sip of her hot chocolate as Bernie looked at her admiringly. “It's almost too late now, but I have my patients to fulfill those needs. All that nurturing and mothering they need.” She smiled but Bernie wasn't convinced that was enough for her.

“That can't be quite the same thing.” He spoke quietly, watching her, intrigued by all that he saw in her.

“No, it's not the same thing, but it's very satisfying in its own way. And the right man has never come along again. Most men can't handle a woman with a serious career. There's no point in crying over what can't be. You have to make the best of it.” He nodded. He was trying to, without Liz, but it was still so damn difficult for him, and he had finally found someone he could say that to, and who understood it.

“I feel that way about Liz …my wife … as though there will never again be anyone like her.” His eyes were so sincere that it made her ache for him.

“There probably won't be. But there could be someone else if you're open to it.”

He shook his head, feeling he had found a friend. “I'm not.” She was the first person he had been able to say that to, and it was a relief to him to say it.

“Neither was I. But eventually you feel better about things.”

“Then why didn't you marry someone else?” His words hit her like a fist and she looked at him seriously.

“I don't think I ever wanted to.” She was totally honest with him. “I thought we were a perfect match. And I never found that again. But you know what? I think I may have been wrong.” She had never admitted that to anyone, certainly not to her family. “I wanted someone who was just like him. And maybe someone different would have been just as good for me, if not better. Maybe the Right Man didn't have to be another pediatrician, just like me, who wanted a rural practice just like me. Maybe I could have married a lawyer or a carpenter or a schoolteacher and been just as happy and had six kids by now.” She looked at Bernie questioningly, and his voice was deep and gentle when he answered her.

“It's not too late, you know.”

She smiled and sat back in her chair again, feeling less intense, more relaxed, and happy to be talking to him. “I'm too set in my ways by now. An old maid to the core.”

“And proud of it,” he laughed, not believing her for a moment. “You know, what you said helps me. People have started pressuring me about going out, and I'm just not ready to do that.” It was a way of excusing himself to her for what he wanted and didn't want, all at once, and mostly didn't understand as he looked at her and felt things that stirred old memories for him, memories that confused him as he watched her.

“Don't let anyone else tell you what to do, Bernard. You'll know when it's the right time. And it'll be easier for the kids, if you know what you want. How long has it been?” She meant since Liz had died, but he could handle the question now.

“A little over a year.”

“Give yourself time.”

Their eyes met, and he looked at her searchingly. “And then what? What happens after that, when you never find the same thing again?”

“You grow to love someone else.” She reached out and touched his hand. She was the most giving woman he had met in a long, long time. “You have a right to that.”

“And you? Why didn't you have a right to that too?”

“Maybe I didn't want it …maybe I wasn't brave enough to find it again.” They were wise words, and they talked of other things then. Boston, New York, the house he was renting, the pediatrician she shared her practice with. He even told her about Nanny Pippin, and they chuckled over some of the adventures she'd had. It was a delightful afternoon and he was sorry when she said she had to go. She was driving to Calistoga to visit a friend for dinner that night and he was suddenly curious who it was, woman or man, friendship or romance. It reminded him of the things she'd said as he watched her drive off through the rain with a last wave at him …“Maybe I wasn't brave enough to find it again.” …He wondered if he ever would be himself as he started his car, and drove back to the house where Nanny and the children were waiting for him.

Chapter 37

Bernie's mind was occupied with other things when his secretary came in the following week and told him that there was a lady there to see him.

“A lady?” He looked surprised, and couldn't imagine who it was. “What lady?”

“I don't know.” His secretary looked as surprised as he did. Women did not generally come to see him, unless they were members of the press or wanted to plan fashion shows for the Junior League, or flew out from New York sent by Paul Berman. But in all of those instances, they had appointments, and this woman didn't. She was attractive in any case. His secretary had noticed that, but she didn't seem to fit into any of those categories. She didn't have the stereotyped look of the Junior League, with blond streaks in her hair, gold shrimp earrings she'd had for ten years, and shoes with little gold chains running across them. Nor did she have the look of the dowdy matron planning the charity event, or the sharklike air of the buyers from New York, or the press. She looked wholesome and clean, and yet well put together somehow, even though her clothes were neither exciting nor overly stylish. She was wearing a navy blue suit and a beige silk blouse, pearl earrings and high-heeled navy blue shoes. And she had very good legs, although she was tall. Almost as tall as Bernie.

He sat staring at his secretary then, unable to understand why she could not provide more information. “Did you ask her who she was?” The woman was generally not stupid, but she looked flustered this time.

“She just said she came to buy bread. … I told her this was the wrong department, Mr. Fine, that these were the executive offices, but she insisted that you told her …” And then suddenly, with a crack of laughter he was out of his chair, and walked to the door himself as the secretary watched him. He pulled it open, and there she was. Megan Jones, looking very chic, and not at all like a doctor. The white coat and jeans had disappeared, and she was smiling at him mischievously as he grinned at her from the doorway.

“You scared my secretary to death,” he said in a soft voice. “What are you doing here? … I know … I know …buying bread.” His secretary disappeared quietly through the other door, and he invited Megan into his office. She followed him in and looked around. He had all the accoutrements of an important man, and she looked suitably impressed as she sat on one of the large leather chairs and smiled at him, sitting on the corner of his desk. He looked very pleased to see her. “What brings you here, Doctor? …Other than bread, of course.”

“An old friend from med school. She dropped out to get married and have babies. At the time I thought it was shocking …now I'm not so sure. She just had number five, and I promised to come and see her. I also figured I'd better buy myself some new clothes. I'm going home for the holidays, and my mother will cry if I show up in my Napa wardrobe. I have to remind myself that people don't look like that in Boston.” She smiled sheepishly at him. “I have to start out looking proper at least. By the end of the third day, I've usually degenerated to jeans. But this time I thought I'd make an effort.” She glanced down at her blue suit and then back at her friend. “I was practicing today. How do I look?” She looked momentarily unsure of herself and it touched him, coming from someone as capable as she was.

“You look lovely, very chic and very pretty.”

“I feel naked without my blue jeans.”

“And the white coat…somehow my mental image of you is either in the white coat, or your slicker.” She smiled. She thought of herself that way too. And she always remembered him in the open blue shirt and the white pants he'd worn to the Labor Day party. He had looked so handsome, but he did in his business suit too. It was almost awesome …but not quite, because she knew him. “Do you want me to show you around the store?” She could see from the mountains of papers on his desk that he was busy, and she didn't want to interrupt him, but it had been nice to see him for a few minutes anyway.

“I can manage on my own. I just wanted to say hello.”

“I'm glad you did.” But he didn't want to let her go yet. “What time are you seeing your friend with the new baby?”

“I told her I'd come by around four, if I finish shopping by then.”

“How about a drink after that?” He looked hopeful, and there were times when he felt like a small boy with her. He wanted to be her friend …and yet he wanted more …but he didn't…. He didn't know what he wanted from her, other than her friendship. But he didn't have to worry about it yet. They seemed to enjoy just being friends, and she wanted nothing more from him. She looked pleased at the invitation.

“I'd love that. I don't have to be back in Napa till eleven. Patrick is covering for me till then.”

“And then you go back on duty?” Bernie looked horrified. “When do you sleep?”

“Never.” She grinned. “I was up till five this morning, with a five-month-old baby with croup. You get used to it eventually.”

He groaned. “I wouldn't have. That's why I work for Wolffs, and I'm not a doctor, the way my mother would have wanted. You now”—he grinned at Megan—“you're every Jewish mother's dream. If only you were my sister, my mother would be happy forever.”

She laughed. “And my mother begged me not to go to med school. She kept telling me to be a nurse or a teacher, or even a secretary. Some nice job where I'd meet a man and get married.”

Bernie smiled at the description. “I'll bet she's proud as hell of you now, isn't she?”

Megan shrugged modestly. “Sometimes. And at least she has grandchildren thanks to my brother, or she really would drive me crazy.” She glanced at her watch then, and then smiled up at Bernie. “I'd better get going. Where should I meet you for drinks?”

“L'Etoile at six?” He said it without thinking, and then wondered if he should have. She was the first woman he had taken there since Liz, other than his mother, but he decided what the hell. It was a great place to have drinks, and she deserved the best. She had an element of quality about her that intrigued him. This was no ordinary girl he had met, and he knew it. She was a bright woman, a good friend, and a great doctor.

“I'll see you there.” She smiled at him from his office doorway, and his day seemed better after she had been there. He left the office at five-thirty, and took his time getting to L'Etoile. He was in a good mood and he brought her a loaf of French bread, and a bottle of her favorite perfume, and she was startled when he handed them to her across the table.

“Good heavens, what's all this?” She looked delighted, and he could see in her eyes that it hadn't been a great day for her.

“Something wrong?” he asked her eventually, as they both sipped their kir. They discovered that they both loved it, and she had spent her junior year in Provence and spoke flawless French, which impressed him.

“I don't know …” She sighed and sat back in her chair. She was always honest with him, and he listened easily to her confession. “Something happened today when I looked at that baby.” He waited to hear what she was going to tell him. “It was the first time I felt that terrible ache women talk about …that ache which makes you wonder if you've done the right thing with your life.” She took a sip of the drink and then looked at him almost sadly. “It would be terrible never to have children, wouldn't it? And I've never felt that before. Maybe I'm just tired after last night with that sick baby.”

“I don't think it's that. Having children has been the best thing that's ever happened to me. And you're smart enough to know that. You know what you're missing, most women don't.”

“So now what? I run out and kidnap a baby … or get pregnant by my butcher at the market in Napa?” She smiled, but it was obvious that she was also troubled, and he smiled back, only partially sympathetic.

“I suspect there must be better volunteers than that.” It was impossible to believe that there weren't, and she blushed faintly in the dim light of the room, as the piano played softly behind them.

“There might be, but I'm not anxious to have a child to raise without a father. I'm not even sure I'm anxious to have any child. But tonight”—her voice grew dreamy, and her eyes had a distant look—“when I held that baby …what a miracle children are.” She looked up at him then, and shrugged. “It's stupid to wax poetic about it, isn't it? I have a good life like this.”

He spoke for himself as well as her. “Maybe it could be better.”

“Maybe.” But she wasn't anxious to pursue it. Conversations like that always made her think of Mark, and that still hurt, even after all these years. There had never been anyone like him. “Anyway, think of the diapers I don't have to change. I can just run around waving my stethoscope, loving everyone else's babies.” It sounded lonely to him. He couldn't imagine his life without Jane or Alexander, and he decided to tell her that.

“I was thirty-seven when Alex was born, and he's the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

She smiled at him, touched by the confession. “And how old was your wife?”

“Almost twenty-nine. But I think she would have had him even if she'd been ten years older than that. She really wanted more children.” It was a shame they hadn't had them. A shame she hadn't lived. A shame Mark hadn't either. But they hadn't. That was the reality of it. And Bernie and Megan had survived them.

“I see older mothers in my practice all the time. I think they're very brave. The good thing is they've done what they wanted to do, had their flings and freedom and established their careers, if that's what they want. Sometimes I think it makes them better parents.”

“So?” He smiled, feeling like his own mother. “Go have a baby.”

She laughed openly at that. “I'll tell my parents you said so.”

“Tell them you have my blessing.”

“I shall.” They exchanged a warm smile, and she sat back, listening to the piano.

“What are they like?” He was always curious about her. He wanted to know more about her. He knew she was torn about having children, that she had gone to Radcliffe and Stanford, that her fiance had been killed in Vietnam, that she came from Boston and lived in Napa, but he didn't know much more than that, except that he thought she was a damn fine woman, and he liked her. A lot. Maybe even too much, except that he didn't admit it. He pretended to like her a little. To himself at any rate.

“My parents?” She seemed surprised at his question, and he nodded. “Nice, I guess. My father works too hard, my mother adores him. My brother thinks they're both crazy. He says he wants to make a fortune and not stay up all night delivering babies, that's why he went into psychiatry instead of obstetrics. But I think he's serious about what he does”— she looked pensive and then smiled—“as serious as he ever is. My brother is practically crazy. He's tiny and blond and looks exactly like our mother.” The thought of it amused Bernie.

“And you look like your father?”

“Exactly.” But she didn't seem to regret it. “My brother calls me the giant. I call him the dwarf, and thus began a thousand wars when we were children.” Bernie laughed at the images she created. “We grew up in a nice house that had been my grandfather's in Beacon Hill and some of my mother's relatives are very fancy. I don't think they ever completely approved of my father. I don't think being a doctor was aristocratic enough for them, but he loves what he does, and he's very good at it. I went to a number of deliveries with him while I was in med school, whenever I went home for the holidays, and I saw him save a number of babies who would never have lived otherwise, and one mother I know for certain wouldn't have, if it hadn't been for his skill. I almost went into O.B. because of that, but I'm really happier doing what I'm doing in pediatrics.”

“Why didn't you want to stay in Boston?”

“Honestly?” She sighed with a gentle smile. “Too much pressure from all of them. I didn't want to follow in Dad's footsteps, I didn't want to do O.B., or be a devoted wife like my mother, just taking care of her husband and children. She thought I should let Mark be the doctor, and I should stay home and make life comfortable for him. There's nothing wrong with that, but I wanted something more. And I couldn't have stood all that gentle Episcopalian, puritanical prodding. Somehow, in the end, they would have wanted me to marry someone fancy, and live in a house just like theirs, and give little social teas for friends just like theirs.” She looked frightened just thinking of it. “That wasn't me, Bernie. I needed more space and more freedom, and new people and my blue jeans. That life can be very restrictive.”

“I'm sure it can. It's really not that different from the same pressures I would have hated in Scarsdale. Jewish, Catholic, Episcopalian, it's all the same thing in the end. It's what they are and what they want you to be. And sometimes you can, and sometimes you can't. I couldn't. If I could have, I'd be a Jewish doctor now, married to a nice Jewish girl, having her nails done at this very moment.”

Megan laughed at his description. “My best friend at med school was Jewish, she's a psychiatrist in Los Angeles now, and making an absolute fortune, and I'll bet you she's never had her nails done.”

“Believe me, she's an exception.”

“Was your wife Jewish?” She was curious about her too, but he shook his head, and he didn't look upset at the mention of Liz, as he smiled at Megan.

“No. Her name was Elizabeth O'Reilly.” He laughed suddenly, remembering a scene a thousand years before. “I actually thought I had given my mother a heart attack the first time I told her.”

Megan laughed out loud and he told her the details of the story. “My parents acted that way when my brother introduced his wife to them. She's as wild as he is, and French. My mother was sure that French meant she had been posing for postcards.” They both laughed at that, and continued telling stories of their parents' foibles, until Bernie glanced at his watch and realized it was eight o'clock. And he knew she had to be back in Napa by eleven.

“Do you want to eat here?” He had assumed they would be having dinner, or hoped so anyway, and he didn't care where they ate, just so they were together. “Or do you want Chinese, or something more exotic?”

She looked at him hesitantly, calculating the time. “I go on duty at eleven …which means I should leave town by nine-thirty” She smiled at him sheepishly. “Would you hate me if we went for a hamburger somewhere? It might be quicker. Patrick gets upset right now if I show up late to go on call for him. His wife is eight months pregnant and he's scared to death she's going to go into labor while I'm tied up somewhere. So I really have to get home on time tonight.” Not that she wanted to. She would have liked to spend hours talking to Bernie.

“I wouldn't mind a hamburger. In fact”—he signaled for their check at L'Etoile and the waiter appeared at once, as Bernie pulled out his wallet—“I know a fun place not far from here, if you don't mind a bit of a mixed crowd.” There was everything from longshoremen to debutantes, but he liked the atmosphere there and suspected she would too. And he was right. As soon as they walked in, she loved it. They ate their hamburgers and apple pie at the longshoreman's bar on the wharf called Olive Oyl's, and she left him with regret at nine-thirty to drive back to Napa. She was afraid she'd be late, and he walked her quickly back to her Austin Healy after dinner.

“Will you make it home all right?” He was worried about her. It was late to be driving to Napa alone, but she smiled at him.

“Much as I detest the words referring to my size, I'm a big girl now.” He laughed at her. She was sensitive about her height. “I had a wonderful time.”

“So did I.” And he really had. It was the most fun he had had in a long, long time. It was easy being with her, and comfortable sharing his most private thoughts and listening to hers.

“When are you coming back up to Napa again?” She looked hopeful.

“Not for a while. I have to go to Europe next week, and Nanny doesn't take the children up when I'm away. It's too much trouble packing up, schlepping everything around. I'll be back in less than three weeks. I'll call you when I get back, maybe we can have lunch up there.” He looked at her with a smile, and then he thought of something. “When are you going home for the holidays?”

“Christmas.”

“So are we. To New York. But we thought we might have Thanksgiving in Napa this year.” He didn't want to be in town for that, thinking of what was no more. “I'll call you when I get back from New York.”

“Take care of yourself, and don't work too hard.” He walked her out to her car, and smiled as she said that to him.

“Yes, Doctor. You too, and drive safely.”

She waved and he looked at his watch as she drove away. It was exactly nine thirty-five. And he called her at eleven-fifteen, from his house. He asked her service to page her if that was possible. And she said she had just walked in the door and hung up her coat when she answered.

“I just wanted to make sure you got home all right. You drive too fast.” He scolded her.

“You worry too much.”

“It's in the genes.” He laughed and in his case it was true. He had worried all his life, but it also made him good at things. He was a perfectionist about almost everything he touched, with excellent results at Wolffs at any rate.

“It's beautiful in Napa tonight, Bernie. The air is crisp and clear and the stars are all out.” The city was swathed in fog, and he was happy in either place, although he would have enjoyed being with her again. The evening had ended too quickly. “Where are you going in Europe, by the way?” She was curious about his life. It was so different from what she did.

“I'll be in Paris, London, Milan, Rome. I go twice a year for the store. I have to stop in New York afterwards for meetings.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It is. Sometimes.” It had been with Liz. And before that. Lately it was less so. Like everything else he did, it was lonely.

“I had a wonderful time tonight, Bernie, thank you.”

He laughed, thinking of their dinner at Olive Oyl's on the wharf. “It certainly wasn't Maxim's.”

“I loved it.” And then her buzzer went off and she had to leave him.

He could still hear her voice in his ears after he hung up, and just to clear his head afterwards, he walked into his closet, and took a deep breath of the very faint scent of Liz' perfume still lingering there. One had to work harder now to catch it, and he closed the door softly, feeling guilty. He wasn't thinking of Liz tonight, but of Megan. It was suddenly her perfume he longed for.

Chapter 38

Bernie stayed in New York longer than he had planned. This was an important year for ready-to-wear, there were major changes happening in the trade, and Bernie wanted to be on top of things. But he was pleased with the way things had gone when he finally left for San Francisco again. And he didn't remember the scarf he'd bought for Megan at Hermes until they went to Napa. He suddenly remembered it, tucked into a corner of his briefcase, and went to look for it. He found it, and decided to deliver it to her himself. He drove the car into town, and stopped outside the Victorian where she lived, and where her offices were. Her partner said she was out and he left the small tan box for her, with a note that read only “To Megan, from Paris. Best, Bernie.”

She called him that night to thank him for it, and he was pleased she liked it so much. It was navy and red and gold, and it had reminded him of her in her red boots and jeans and yellow slicker.

“I just got home and found it on my desk. Patrick must have left it there for me when you dropped it off. And it's beautiful, Bernie, I love it.”

“I'm glad you like it. We're opening a boutique for them here in March.”

“How fabulous. I love their things.”

“So does everyone. That ought to be good for us.” He told her about some of the other deals he'd made and she was impressed.

“All I did was diagnose three earaches, seven streps, a budding bronchitis, and a hot appendix in three weeks, not to mention a million cuts, splinters, bumps, and one broken thumb.” She sounded disappointed in herself, and he wasn't.

“That sounds a lot more meaningful to me. No one's life depends on my Italian luggage boutique or a line of French shoes. What you do gives some meaning to life. It's important.”

“I suppose it does.” But she was feeling down again. Her partner's wife had had the baby that week, a girl, and she had had that same ache again. But she didn't tell Bernie. She didn't know him that well and he was going to start thinking she was neurotic about other people's babies. “Did they tell you when you're moving back to New York?”

“Not yet. And for once, we didn't even have time to talk about it. There's a lot happening at the store just now. At least it's interesting. Would you like to have lunch tomorrow?” He was going to offer to meet her at the coffee shop in Saint Helena.

“I wish I could. Patrick's wife had the baby this week, and I have to cover for him. I could stop by the house on my way to the hospital to do rounds. Or would that upset Jane too much?” She was being honest with him. She had felt how strong Jane's resistance was when they met before, and she didn't want to upset her.

“I don't see why it should.” He didn't see what Megan did, or at least not as clearly.

“I don't think she's crazy about having ladies around.” She meant around him, but she didn't say it.

“She's got nothing to worry about.”

She wasn't sure Bernie understood the nature of it. She was protecting her mother's memory, and it was understandable. Megan just didn't want to rock her boat too hard. There was no need for it. “I don't want to upset anyone.”

“You'll upset me if you don't stop by. Besides, it's time you met Nanny Pip. She's the best member of the family. What time were you thinking of coming by?”

“About nine. Is that all right or is it too early?”

“Perfect. We'll be having breakfast then.”

“See you tomorrow.” And his heart raced at the thought of seeing her again. He told himself it was because she was such an interesting woman and he forced himself not to think of the shining black hair or the sensation he got in the pit of his stomach when he thought of her.

Megan arrived the next morning at nine-fifteen, after he had set another place for her. And as he put the place mat down, Jane had looked up at him questioningly.

“Who's that for?”

“Dr. Jones.” He tried to look noncommittal as he pretended to shuffle through The New York Times. But Nanny was watching him. And so was Jane. Like a vulture.

“Who's sick?” Jane pursued.

“No one. She just wanted to come by for coffee.”

“Why? Who called her?”

Bernie turned to look at her. “Why don't you relax, sweetheart? She's a nice woman. Now drink your juice.”

“I don't have juice.” They were eating strawberries, and he looked up distractedly and grinned.

“Drink it anyway.”

She smiled, but she was suddenly suspicious of him. She didn't want anyone in their life. They had everything they needed now. Each other, Alex, and Nanny Pip. It was Alex who had started calling her Pip and the name had stuck immediately. Nanny Pippin was too much for him.

And then Megan arrived, with a big bunch of yellow flowers and a sunny smile for everyone. Bernie introduced her to Nanny Pip, and Nanny pumped her hand with a radiant smile and it was obvious she was impressed with her from the first.

“A doctor, how wonderful! And Mr. Fine said you were kind to poor little Alex with his ear.” Megan chatted pleasantly with her and Nanny made it clear that she approved of her, as a doctor, and a woman, by lavishing every possible attention on her. She poured her coffee, gave her muffins, eggs, bacon, sausages, and an enormous bowl of strawberries as Jane stared at her with barely veiled hatred. She was angry at her for coming by, angrier at her for making friends with Bernie.

“I don't know why Daddy asked you to come by,” she said loudly, as Megan praised the delicious food and smiled at her. “No one's sick here.” Bernie was stunned by her rudeness, as was Nanny, who growled at Jane, but Megan smiled at her pleasantly, looking undisturbed by the child's words.

“I like getting to know my patients when they're well too. Sometimes”—she explained patiently, looking undaunted by the black looks Jane was giving her openly— “it's actually easier to treat someone if you've known them a little bit when they're not ill.”

“We go to a doctor in San Francisco anyway.”

“Jane.” It was a single warning word. Bernie wasn't pleased with her. He glanced at Megan apologetically, as Alexander sidled over to her and stood staring up at her.

“Lap,” he announced. “I wanna sit on your lap.” His English still sounded like an awkward translation from the Greek, but Megan understood him perfectly, and plopped him on her knees, and handed him a strawberry which he shoved into his mouth in one piece as Megan smiled down at him. And as Bernie watched, he suddenly noticed that Megan was wearing the scarf he had dropped off to her the day before. It pleased him to see her wearing it, but almost at the same instant he noticed it, so did Jane. She had seen the box on his desk the day before and asked him what it was. He said it was a scarf for a friend, and Jane had rapidly figured it out. She remembered the Hermes scarves he had brought Liz. And this time he had also brought one for Nanny Pippin. A beautiful navy and white and gold that she could wear with her uniforms and navy coat and brogues, and the hat that made her look like Mary Poppins.

“Where did you get that scarf?” She acted as though Megan had stolen it, and the pretty young woman gave a start and then rapidly recovered. It had almost been Jane's point, but in the end, it was Megan's.

“Oh …that… I got it from a friend a long time ago. When I lived in France.” She instantly knew what she had to do and Bernie was grateful to her. It was as though they had begun a conspiracy, without ever intending to, but now they were suddenly partners.

“You did?” Jane looked surprised. She thought Bernie was the only person in the world who knew Hermes.

“Yes.” She sounded totally credible, and calmer now. “I lived in Provence for a year. Have you been to Paris with your daddy, Jane?” she asked innocently, and Bernie concealed a smile. She was good with kids. Hell, she was great with them. And Alex was cuddling up to her happily with little warm noises and snuggles. And having eaten all her strawberries, he was now assisting her with her eggs, and gobbled a piece of her bacon.

“No, I haven't been to Paris. Not yet. But I've been to New York.” She suddenly felt important.

“That's terrific. What do you like best there?”

“Radio City Music Hall!” Unwittingly, she was getting pulled into it. And then suddenly she looked suspiciously at Megan. She had just remembered that she didn't want to like her, and she refused to continue the conversation, answering only in monosyllables until Megan left.

Bernie apologized to her as he walked her to the car. “I feel terrible. She's never rude like that. It must be some kind of jealousy.” He was genuinely upset and Megan shook her head and smiled at him. He was an innocent in matters she understood only too well. The heartaches and dilemmas of children.

“Stop worrying about it. It's perfectly normal. You and Alex are all she's got. She's defending her turf.” Her voice was gentle, but she didn't want to cause him pain by being too blunt with him. He was still fragile too, and she knew it. “She's defending her mother's memory. It's very hard for her to see a woman around you, even a nonthreatening one.” She smiled. “Just don't take any sexy blondes home to her, or she'll poison them for you.” They both laughed as he opened the car door for her.

“I'll remember that. You handled her beautifully, Meg.”

“Don't forget that's my line of work, more or less. You sell bread. I know kids. Sometimes.” He laughed and leaned toward her, suddenly wanting to kiss her, and then just as quickly backed off, horrified by his own reaction.

“I'll try to keep that in mind too. See you soon, I hope.” And then he remembered what he'd wanted to ask her. Thanksgiving was only two weeks away, and they weren't coming back till then. “Do you want to have Thanksgiving dinner with us?” He had thought a lot about asking her, all the way home from New York in fact.

She looked at him thoughtfully. “Do you think Jane is ready for that? Don't push her too fast.”

“What am I supposed to do? Sit alone in my room for the rest of my life?” He sounded like a disappointed child. “I have a right to friends, don't I?”

“Yes. But give her a chance to catch her breath. Why don't I just come for dessert? That might be a good compromise.”

“Do you have other plans?” He wanted to know who she was seeing. She seemed so busy all the time, and he wondered with whom. It was hard to believe her work could keep her that busy and yet it seemed to.

“I told Patrick's wife, Jessica, I'd give her a hand. They have relatives coming from out of town, and she could use a hand cooking dinner. Why don't I get her on her feet and then come here?”

“Anything else you're planning to do? Give mouth-to-mouth to someone on the way?” He was amazed by her. She was constantly doing something for somebody. And rarely for herself.

“It's not as bad as that, is it?” She looked surprised. She never thought of it. It was just the way she was, and one of the things he liked best about her.

“Seems to me you're always doing things for everyone but yourself,” Bernie said with concern in his eyes.

“I get what I need out of it, I suppose. I don't need much.” Or at least she never had before. But lately she was wondering. There were things that seemed to be missing from her life. She knew it when Alexander stood looking up at her and pointing at her lap, and even when Jane stared at her so angrily. Suddenly she was tired of just looking into ears and down throats and testing reflexes.

“See you on Thanksgiving then. For dessert if nothing else.” But he was still disappointed she wouldn't come for more, and he secretly blamed it on Jane, and was annoyed with her when he went back inside again. And even more so when she spoke up against Megan.

“Boy, is she ugly, isn't she, Daddy?” She was looking piercingly at him and he glared at her.

“I don't think so, Jane. I think she's a very good-looking girl.” He was not going to let her get to him, no matter what.

“Girl? Yuck! She looks about four hundred years old.”

He clenched his jaw and looked at her, trying to speak quietly. “Why do you hate her so much?”

“Because she's dumb.”

“No.” He shook his head. “She's not dumb. She's very smart. You don't get to be a doctor by being dumb.”

“Well, I don't like her anyway.” There were suddenly tears in her eyes, and a plate slipped from her hands and broke as she tried to help Nanny Pip clear away the dishes.

Bernie walked over to her quietly. “She's just a friend, sweetheart. That's all she is.” Megan was right. Jane was frightened of a woman coming into his life. He could see that now. “I love you very much.”

“Then don't let her come here anymore.” She was crying now and Alexander was staring at her, worried but fascinated, with no idea of what they were talking about.

“Why not?”

“We don't need her here, that's why.” And with that, she ran from the room and slammed her bedroom door, and Nanny Pip looked at him quietly and held up a hand as he made a move to follow her.

“Leave her alone for a little while, Mr. Fine. She'll be all right. She has to learn that things aren't always going to be this way.” She smiled gently at him. “I hope not anyway, for your sake. And for Jane's. I like the doctor very much.” She made “very” sound like “vera.”

“So do I.” Bernie was grateful for the encouragement. “She's a nice woman and a good friend. I wish Jane hadn't gotten so worked up about nothing.”

“She's afraid of losing you.” It was exactly what Megan had said.

“She'll never do that.”

“Be sure you tell her so. Frequently. And for the rest, she'll just have to get used to it. Go slowly …and she'll come around.” Go where? He wasn't going anywhere. With Megan or anyone. And he looked at Nanny solemnly.

“It's nothing like that, Nanny Pip. That's what I wanted Jane to understand.”

“Don't be so sure of that.” Nanny looked at him honestly. “You have a right to more than the life you're leading now. It wouldn't be healthy to live like this for the rest of your life.” She knew exactly how celibate he was, and she also knew about the closet full of clothes that he and Jane still wandered into now and then, pretending to look for something else. She thought it was time to get rid of them, but she also knew he still wasn't ready.

Chapter 39

Megan was true to her word and came for dessert after Thanksgiving dinner with Patrick and Jessica, and the new baby, and she brought a mince pie she had made herself. Nanny said it was wonderful, but Jane said she'd had enough to eat, and Bernie had a piece, and was surprised at how good it was.

“You don't know how amazing it is.” She looked pleased with herself, and was wearing a red dress she had bought at Wolffs the day she had drinks with him. “I am literally the worst cook in the world. I can barely boil an egg, and my coffee tastes like poison. My brother begs me never to walk into his kitchen.”

“He sounds like a character.”

“In this case he's right.” Jane grinned in spite of herself, and Alex sidled up to her again, and this time climbed onto her lap without asking permission. She gave him a taste of the mince pie, but he spat it out. “See, Alexander knows. Right?” He nodded solemnly and everyone laughed at him.

“My mom was a terrific cook, wasn't she, Daddy?” The comparison was half obnoxious and half sad as Jane said it.

“Yes, she was, sweetheart.”

“She used to bake a lot.” She remembered the heart-shaped cookies on the last day of school and it almost made her cry as she stared unhappily at Megan.

“I admire that. I think it's nice to know those things.”

Jane nodded. “She was real pretty too.” Her eyes were sad and it was suddenly more a memory than a comparison, as Bernie listened. It hurt hearing it, but he knew she needed to say it. “She was blond and kind of skinny and little.”

Megan smiled at him. There was certainly no question of his being attracted to her because she looked like his late wife. In fact, she was almost exactly the opposite, and in a way, she felt better about that. People so often tried to duplicate what they had lost, and it made everything so difficult. It was impossible to stand in someone's shadow as the sun moved on. And she looked at Jane gently now. “You won't believe this, but my mom is skinny and blond and little too. And so is my brother.”

Jane laughed at the thought. “For real?”

“For real. My mom's about this high.” She pointed to her shoulder and smiled. “I look just like my father.” In either case, no loss. They were both handsome people.

“Is your brother short like your mom?” Jane was suddenly fascinated and Bernie smiled. Maybe there was some hope that Jane would calm down after all.

“Yes, he is. I always call him the dwarf.”

“I'll bet he hates you for that.” Jane giggled at the thought and Megan grinned.

“Yes, I guess he does. Maybe that's why he's a psychiatrist, so he can figure it out.” They all laughed at that, and Nanny brought her a cup of tea, and the two women exchanged a knowing smile. She took Alexander away for his bath after that, and Megan helped Bernie and Jane clear the table. They threw things out, put food away, scraped, rinsed, and loaded the dishwasher, and when Nanny came back again, everything was done. She had been about to say that it was nice having a woman around the house and then thought better of it, and just thanked all of them for cleaning up, which was more diplomatic.

Megan stayed for another hour after that, chatting with all of them, sitting in front of the fire, and then her beeper went off, and she let Jane call the answering service for her, and she listened in while Megan took the call. Someone had choked on a turkey bone. They had gotten it out fortunately, but now the child's throat was badly scratched. And as she hung up, her beeper went off again. A little girl had cut her hand on the carving knife and needed to be stitched up.

“Urghk.” Jane made a face. “That one sounded terrible.”

“Some of them are. But I don't think that one will be too bad. No fingers lopped off or anything messy like that.” She smiled at Bernie over her head. “Looks like I'm going to have to go.”

“Do you want to come back again?” He was hoping she would, but she still wanted to be cautious about Jane.

“I think it might be late by then. Somehow you never finish as quickly as you think you will. You don't want me pounding on your door at ten o'clock tonight.” He wasn't entirely sure of that, and they were all sorry when she left, even Jane, and Alex especially, who came looking for her after his bath, and cried when Jane told him she'd gone.

It reminded Bernie of what the children didn't have, and he wondered if Nanny Pip was right, that their lives wouldn't always be that way. But he couldn't imagine changing it now. Except of course that one day they'd move to New York, although he never thought about it anymore. He was content in California these days.

They went to New York for Christmas without seeing Megan again. They didn't have time to go back up, with all that Bernie had to do in the store, and there was plenty for the children to do in town. Nanny took them both to the Nutcracker and the children's show at the symphony. They went to see Santa Claus at Wolffs, of course. Alex was enthralled by him, and now that she was nearly ten, Jane didn't believe in him anymore, but she went anyway to humor Alex.

And Bernie called Megan once before they left. “Have a wonderful holiday,” he wished her fervently. She deserved it, after all she did for everyone, all year round.

“You too. Give my love to Jane.” She had sent her a warm pink scarf and hat for the trip to New York, but they hadn't arrived yet when Bernie talked to her. And she had sent Alex a cuddly Santa doll.

“I'm sorry we won't be seeing you before the holidays.” Sorrier than she knew. He'd been thinking of her a lot in recent weeks.

“Maybe I'll see you in New York,” she said thoughtfully.

“I thought you were going to Boston to see your family.”

“I am. But my crazy brother and sister-in-law are going to New York and absolutely insisting that I come. One of our fancier cousins is getting married, with a great to-do at the Colony Club. I'm not sure I could stand an event like that, but they seem to want me to come along, and I said I'd think about it.”

She had agreed so she could see him in New York, but now she felt foolish admitting it to him. But he was excited at the prospect of seeing her.

“Will you let me know if you're coming down?”

“Of course. I'll see what's on the agenda when I arrive, and I'll call you as soon as I know.” He gave her the number in Scarsdale, and hoped she would call him.

And that night when he went home, he found the huge box of presents she had sent to them. The hat and scarf for Jane, the Santa doll for Alex, a Pringle sweater for Nanny Pip, which was exactly what she liked, and a beautiful leather-bound book for him. He saw immediately that the book was old, and discerned easily that it was also rare, and her note said that it had been her grandfather's and had brought her through hard times and she hoped it would do the same for him. She wished him happy things in the coming year, and a Merry Christmas to all of them. And as he read her note, he felt lonely for her. He was sorry they weren't spending the holidays in the same town, and that life had to be so complicated sometimes. Christmas was lonely for him. It reminded him of Liz, and their anniversary. And he was quiet on the flight east. Too quiet, Nanny thought. He was thinking of Liz, she could tell from the grief etched on his face. He was still so lonely for her.

And on her own flight, Megan was thinking of her old fiance, and Bernard, and quietly comparing them. They were two very different men and she respected them both. But it was Bernie she missed now, and she called him that night just to talk to him. His mother was stunned when the phone rang, almost as soon as they got home, and Nanny was putting the children to bed. His mother handed the phone to him with a worried look. She had said she was Doctor Jones, and his mother continued to hover nearby until he waved her away nervously. She thought someone was sick, and Bernie almost laughed as he took the phone. He would have to explain to her afterwards, he knew. But he was anxious to talk to Megan first. He was dying to talk to her in fact.

“Megan?” His face lit up like a Christmas tree. “How was the trip?”

“Not bad.” She sounded happy to hear him, too, and faintly embarrassed to have been the one to call. But she didn't give a damn. She had suddenly been so lonely for him once she arrived in Boston again, that she had had an irresistible urge to reach out to him. “It's always strange coming home again at first. It's as though they forget we're grown up, and they start ordering you around like a kid. I always forget that till I come home again.” He laughed, he always felt the same way. And he still remembered how odd he and Liz had felt staying in his old room. It was like being fourteen years old again, and sex was taboo. He preferred staying at a hotel, but with the kids there was no point. And they had come to share the holidays with their grandparents. In some ways it was less lonely here, with them, than staying at a hotel, but he knew exactly what Megan meant.

“I know exactly what you mean. It's like taking a step back in time and proving they were right all along. You are fourteen years old, and you've come back to do it their way this time …except you don't. And eventually everyone gets pissed at you.”

She laughed. In Boston, they already were. Her father had gone to do a delivery an hour after she arrived, and she hadn't wanted to go with him because she was tired, and he had left, obviously annoyed at her, while her mother had scolded her for not bringing boots that were warm enough, and folding everything in her suitcase wrong. And an hour after that, she had chided her for leaving her room a mess. It was difficult after eighteen years of living alone, to say the least. “My brother said he'd rescue me tonight. They're having a dinner party at their house.”

“Will that be Boston sedate, or completely nuts?”

“Probably both, knowing them. He'll probably get completely drunk, and someone else will take off all their clothes, probably some Jungian analyst who gets gassed on his lethal punch. He loves doing things like that.”

“Watch out he doesn't get you.” It was strange thinking of her in that milieu, and lonely for him. He realized how much he missed her suddenly, and he wasn't sure if he could say that to her. It seemed inappropriate in their friendship somehow, and yet there was more to it than that, and there was a great deal to be explored. “Are you coming to that wedding down here?” He was counting on it, but didn't tell her so.

“It looks like they are anyway. I'm not sure what my parents will say about my going away when I'm supposed to be visiting them, but I thought I'd mention it and see what they say.”

“I hope they let you come.” He looked like a worried teenager, and suddenly they both laughed. It was the fourteen-year-old syndrome again.

“See what I mean!”

“Listen, just come for one night, it would be fun seeing you here.”

She didn't disagree with him, and she wanted to see him very much. He had been on her mind for weeks, and she was sorry she hadn't seen him again before they both left for the east, but they both led busy lives, with a great many responsibilities. And maybe getting together in New York wasn't such a bad idea. “I'll see what I can do. It would be fun.” And then she had a better idea. She sounded like a kid as she suggested it to him. “Do you want to come to the wedding with me?” She loved the idea the more she thought of it. “Did you bring a dinner jacket to New York?”

“No, but I know a great store.” They both laughed. “Are you sure it's appropriate since I don't know the bride and groom?” A wedding at the Colony Club sounded like a very serious affair to him, and the very thought of it intimidated him, but Megan laughed at the thought.

“Everyone will be so drunk they won't give a damn who you are. And we can slip away early and go somewhere else …like the Carlyle to listen to Bobby Short.” He fell silent as he listened to her words. That was one of his favorite things to do in New York, and Bobby was an old friend from his New York days. He had been following him for years.

“I'd love that.” His voice sounded husky, as he thought of her, and he felt young again, as though life were beginning for him, and not as though it had already begun, and ended in tragedy less than two years before. “Try and come down, Meg.”

“I will.” There was an urgency between them now, and in a way it almost frightened her, and yet she wanted to see him while she was there. She didn't want to wait until they met in Napa again. “I'll do my best. And put the twenty-sixth on your calendar. I'll come in that morning, and stay at the Carlyle. My crazy brother always stays there.”

“I'll pick up a dinner jacket at the store this week.” It all sounded like fun, except the wedding itself, which he was dreading a little bit. It was only three days before his anniversary with Liz. It would have been four years. But he couldn't think of that now. He couldn't go on celebrating anniversaries that didn't exist, and suddenly he wanted to reach out to Megan, as though to force the memories from his head, and she heard something odd in his voice and was suddenly worried about him. It was as though she knew him better than she did. It was odd the communication they had. They had both noticed it.

“Are you all right?” Her voice was soft from her end, and he nodded with a tired smile.

“I'm okay. The ghosts get me sometimes …particularly at this time of year.”

“It's hard for everyone.” She had gone through it too, but it had been such a long time, and there had usually been some man or other in her life at this time of year. Either that or she was at the hospital, on call with sick kids. Either way, she suffered less than she knew he would. She hoped his family would be good to him. She knew how difficult the holidays would be for him, and the kids, or Jane anyway. “How's she?”

“Happy to be here. She and my mother are as thick as thieves. They've already got plans for the next three weeks, and Nanny is staying on here with them after I leave. I've got to be back in San Francisco for a meeting on the thirtieth, and Jane doesn't have to be back in school till the tenth, so that gives them two more weeks after I leave, and they're all looking forward to it.” She wondered if he'd be lonely then.

“Will you come up to Napa while they're gone?”

“I might.” There was a long silence as they shared the same thoughts and then shied away from them again, and she promised to call him by the end of the week, to tell him her plans. But the next time he called her. It was two days after they had arrived in New York, and it was Christmas Day, and her father answered the phone in a booming voice and called out to her, telling her to hurry up.

She came scurrying to the phone breathlessly, and Bernie smiled the moment he heard her voice. “Merry Christmas, Meg.” He had fallen into calling her that, and she smiled. No one had called her that since her best friend when she was a child, and it warmed her heart when he did it.

“Merry Christmas to you too.” She was happy to hear his voice, but there seemed to be a lot of noise in the background, and someone was calling her.

“Is this a bad time?”

“No. We were just leaving for church. Can I call you back?” And when she did, she announced herself to his mother as Doctor Jones again. They had a nice long chat, and when he hung up the phone, his mother eyed him curiously. The children were in their room, playing with some of their presents with Nanny Pip. They had gotten most of their gifts for Chanukah, but Grandma Ruth couldn't forgo Christmas entirely. She didn't want to disappoint Alex and Jane, so Santa Claus now came to their house too, which made Bernie laugh. If he had wanted to celebrate Christmas as a child, they would have been horrified. But for their grandchildren, even that was all right. They had mellowed a lot over the years. But not totally.

“Who was that?” His mother attempted unsuccessfully to look naive, after his call from Meg.

“Just a friend.” It was a game that was familiar to him, although he hadn't played it with her in a long, long time, and he was secretly amused by it.

“Anyone I know?”

“I don't think so, Mom.”

“What's her name?”

He used to balk at that, but he didn't care anymore. He had nothing to hide, even from her. “Megan Jones.” She looked at him, half pleased that someone had called, half angry because her name wasn't Rachel Schwartz.

“Another one of those again.” But secretly she was pleased. There was a woman calling him. He was alive again. And there was something in his eyes which almost gave her hope. She had said as much to Lou the night he arrived, but Lou said he didn't see anything different in him. He never did. But Ruth did. And she saw it now. “How come you never meet Jewish girls?” It was a question as much as a complaint and this time he grinned at her.

“I guess 'cause I don't go to temple anymore.”

She nodded, and then wondered if he was angry at God because of Liz, but she didn't want to ask him that, which was just as well. “What kind is this?” There were long pauses between her questions and Bernie smiled at her.

“Episcopalian.” He remembered the scene at Cote Basque and so did she.

“Oy” But it was a small unedited word, more of a statement of fact than a warning of collapse. “An Episcopalian. Is it serious?”

He was quick to shake his head and she wondered about that. “No, it's not. She's just a friend.”

“She calls you a lot.”

“That makes twice.” And she knew he had called her too, but she didn't say that to him.

“Is she nice? Does she like the kids?” A double-barreled question this time, and he decided to say something on Meg's behalf, to assure her of his mother's respect at least.

“She's a pediatrician, if that makes any difference.” And of course he knew it did. The jackpot for Megan Jones! He smiled to himself, watching the look on his mother's face.

“A doctor? …Of course …Doctor Jones …Why didn't you tell me that before?”

“You didn't ask.” They were the same old words to the same game. Like a song they'd been singing to each other for years. It was almost a lullaby by now.

“What was her name again?” Now he knew she'd have his father check her out.

“Megan Jones. She went to Harvard undergraduate, med school at Stanford, and did her residency at UC. That way Dad won't have to look her up. His eyes aren't so great these days.”

“Don't be fresh.” She pretended to be annoyed, but in truth she was impressed. She would have liked it better if he had been the doctor and she worked at Wolffs, but what the hell, you couldn't have it all in one life. They all knew that by now. “What does she look like?”

“She has warts and buck teeth.”

And this time his mother laughed. After almost forty years, she finally laughed with him.

“Will I meet her sometime, this beauty with the warts and buck teeth, and the fancy degrees?”

“You might, if she sticks around.”

“Is it serious?” She narrowed her eyes as she asked him again, and he backed off. It was all right to play with her, but he wasn't ready to talk seriously yet. For the moment they were just friends, no matter how often she called, or he called her.

“No.”

She had learned something else over the years. She knew when to back off, and when she saw the look on his face she did. And she didn't say another word when Megan called him again that night to tell him what time she'd be at the Carlyle the next day. She was coming in to go to the wedding with him. He had already brought the dinner jacket home, and it fit him impeccably. His mother had been stunned when she saw him going out the next night. And she was even more impressed when she saw the long black limousine waiting outside for him.

“Is that her car?” Her eyes were wide and she spoke in hushed tones. What kind of a doctor was this? After forty years with a good practice on Park Avenue in New York, Lou still couldn't afford a limousine. Not that she wanted one, but still …

Bernie smiled. “No, Mom, it's mine. I rented it.”

“Oh.” It deflated her a little bit, but not much. She was very proud of him, and she watched from behind the curtain as he got into the car and disappeared. And she sighed to herself as she stepped back into the living room and saw Nanny Pippin watching her. “I just … I wanted to make sure he was all right…. It's icy out tonight.” As though she needed an excuse.

“He's a good man, Mrs. Fine.” Nanny Pippin sounded as though she were proud of him too, and her words touched Ruth's heart.

Ruth Fine glanced around to see if anyone was listening to them, and then advanced cautiously on Nanny Pip. They had established a tenuous friendship over the past year, but Ruth respected her, and Nanny liked her in return. And Ruth figured that Nanny knew everything that went on in his life. “What's the doctor like?” She spoke in a voice so low that Nanny could barely hear, but she smiled.

“She's a good woman. And very intelligent.”

“Is she beautiful?”

“She's a handsome girl.” They'd have made a fine pair, but Nanny didn't want to encourage her too much, there was no reason to think anything serious would happen between them, although she would have liked to see something like that. Megan would have been perfect for him. “She's a good girl, Mrs. Fine. Perhaps something will come of it one day.” But she offered no promises, and Ruth only nodded her head, thinking of her only son riding into town in a rented limousine. What a handsome boy he was …and a good man…. Nanny was right. She wiped away a stray tear as she turned off the living room lights and got ready to go to bed, and wished good things for him.

Chapter 40

The drive into town took longer than usual because of the snow, and he sat in the back seat thinking of her. It seemed forever since he had seen her in Napa. And he was excited to be seeing her again, especially in this setting. It was new and different and exciting. He liked the quiet, simple life she led, working hard at what she did, with love and dedication. And yet there was more to her than that, her family in Boston, the “crazy” brother she described so fondly, and the fancy relatives she spoke of with amusement, like the cousins getting married that night. But more than that, there was what he felt for her. The respect and the admiration and the growing affection. And there was more than that. There was a physical attraction he could barely deny now, no matter how guilty it made him feel. It was still there, growing more powerful day by day. And he was thinking of how lovely she was as the limousine sped up Madison Avenue on the salt-strewn street, and turned east on Seventy-sixth Street.

Bernie got out of the car and went inside the elegant lobby to ask for her. An assistant manager at the front desk, wearing a morning coat and a white carnation, checked the register and nodded to him solemnly.

“Dr. Jones is in four-twelve.”

He took the elevator to the fourth floor, and turned right as they told him to. And he held his breath as he pressed the bell. He suddenly couldn't wait to see her again, and when she opened the door in a navy satin evening gown, she took his breath away with her shining black hair and her blue eyes, and a stunning sapphire necklace with matching earrings. They had been her grandmother's but it wasn't her jewelry which took his breath away, it was her face and her eyes, and he reached out and gave her a warm hug that felt like coming home to both of them. It was incredible how much they had missed each other in such a short time, but they barely had time to say anything before her brother came bounding into the room, singing a filthy song in French, and looking precisely as she had described him. Samuel Jones looked like a very handsome, aristocratic blond jockey. He had gotten all their mother's elegant, delicate looks, and everything about him was tiny, except his mouth and his voice and his sense of humor and according to him his sex drive. He pumped Bernie's hand, warned him never to eat his sister's cooking or let her dance with him, and he poured Bernie a double Scotch on the rocks, as Bernie attempted to catch his breath and say a few words to Megan. But a moment later, her sister-in-law appeared in a flurry of green satin and red hair and giggles and squeals in French and a lot of very large emeralds. Being around them was like being in a whirlwind and it was only when they were alone in the limousine on the way to the church that he could sit back quietly and look at her. Sam and his wife had gone in their own car.

“You look absolutely spectacular, Megan.”

“So do you.” Black tie suited him to perfection. And it was a long way from their jeans and her slicker.

And then he decided to tell her what he'd been feeling. “I've missed you. It was almost disorienting coming back here this time. I keep wanting to be in Napa talking to you, or going for a walk somewhere … or at Olive Oyl's eating a hamburger.”

“Instead of all this grandeur?” she teased as she smiled at him, indicating their elegant garb and the limo.

“I think I prefer the simple life in the Napa Valley.” He smiled, thinking of their life there. “Maybe you were right to leave Boston.” He was almost sorry he was coming back to New York now. It didn't appeal to him as it once had. All he wanted was to go back to California, where the weather was gentle and the people were more polite, and where he knew he would see Meg in her jeans and her starched white doctor's coat. In a funny way, he was homesick.

“I always feel like that here.” She understood perfectly. She could hardly wait to go back in four more days. She was going home to spend New Year's Eve in the Napa Valley, on call for Patrick, who was on call for Christmas, and they both agreed that they needed a third doctor in their practice. But that was a long way away tonight, and Bernie held Megan's hand as they got out at Saint James' Church on Madison and Seventy-first. She had never looked lovelier and he was proud to be with her. There was a regal quality about her, a quiet elegance and strength. She looked like someone one could turn to and he stood beside her at the wedding, proud to be with her. He met her cousins afterwards, and chatted with her brother and his wife for a little while, and was surprised at how much he liked them. He found himself thinking of how different she was from Liz. She had strong family ties and a family she loved deeply, unlike poor Liz, who had been so alone in the world, except for him and Jane and Alexander.

He danced with Meg's sister-in-law, but more importantly, he danced with Meg. He danced with her until two o'clock in the morning, and then they sat at the Bemelmans Bar at the Carlyle till four-thirty, spilling stories, sharing confidences, and making discoveries about each other. It was almost six in the morning when he got back to Scarsdale in the limo. And he met her for lunch the next day. He had been in meetings at the store since nine, and he was exhausted from the night before. But at the same time he felt exhilarated and happy, and she looked pretty in a bright red wool coat when he picked her up and took her to “21” for lunch. They ran into her brother there, pretending to pick his wife up at the bar, and claiming that he was horribly hung over. He still had his hand on his wife's behind when he ordered lunch, and Bernie couldn't help laughing at him. He was boyish and shocking and outrageous, forty-one going on nine, as Megan said, but he was also very handsome. And eventually he and Marie-Ange went upstairs and left Megan and Bernie alone. He had already told Megan that morning over Bloody Marys and steak tartare that he hoped she was lucky enough to catch Bernie. He thought he was terrific and just what she needed: style, brains, and balls, as he described it, but he had forgotten the best part. A heart the size of a mountain. It was that that Megan loved so much about him. And she looked at him over lunch at “21,” and they talked about the Napa Valley. They could both hardly wait to get back there.

“Why don't you do your store there, Bernie?” She still loved the idea and the way his eyes sparkled when they talked about it.

“How can I, Meg? That's a full-time project.”

“Not if you know the right people to help you run it. You could run it from San Francisco, or even New York, once it really got started.”

He shook his head, smiling at her innocence. There was an enormous amount of work involved which she didn't understand. “I don't think so.”

“Why not do it anyway? Try it.” She had always encouraged him and he felt a spark of interest ignite in him again.

“I'll think about it.” But he was more excited about their plans for New Year's Eve. They had decided to spend it together, even if she was on call. He didn't mind that, and he had promised to drive to Oakville after his meetings in town on the thirtieth. It made it less painful to leave her that afternoon. She had to pick up her things at the Carlyle after lunch and fly back to Boston. And he had to go to a meeting with Paul Berman. He had two days left with his parents and the children and they flew by. And two days later, he was back on the plane to San Francisco and excited to see Megan again. He could hardly wait till the following night when he was planning to drive to Oakville. She had flown from Boston the day before, but when he'd called her she had been in the emergency room with a child with a hot appendix. And it was when he was alone in the house again that he realized how empty his house and his life and his heart were without her. He wasn't sure if he missed her, or Liz, and he felt guilty about his own confusion. And it was a relief when the phone rang at eleven that night. He was in the bedroom packing for Napa. It was Megan, and he was so happy to hear her voice he could have cried, but he didn't.

“Are you okay, Bernie?” She asked him that a lot and it touched him profoundly.

“I am now.” He was honest with her. “The house is so empty without Jane and Alex.” …and Liz …and you …and … he forced himself to think only of Megan, no matter how guilty it made him.

She told him about the medical journals on her desk, and it made him smile thinking of his father. And he told her about the meetings he was running the next day, and she brought up the Napa idea again. She insisted that she had a friend who could run a store for him to perfection.

“Her name is Phillippa Winterturn. And you'll love her.”She sounded so excited he smiled. He loved her enthusiasm. She was always full of new ideas bubbling over.

“Good God, Meg, what a name.”

Megan laughed. “I know. But it suits her perfectly. She's got prematurely gray hair, green eyes, and more style than anyone I know and I ran into her in Yountville today. Bernie, she'd be just perfect. She used to work for Women's Wear, and for Bendel's in New York a long time ago. She's fabulous, and she's free now. If you want, I'll introduce you to her.” She wanted him to do the store. She sensed how much he would love it.

“All right, all right. I'll give it some thought.” But he had other things on his mind now. New Year's Eve among them.

They had decided to make dinner together at his house, the following evening. She was going to buy the groceries and they were going to cook together, and with luck she wouldn't get called out before midnight. He could hardly wait to see her. And when they hung up the phone, he stood staring at Liz' closet but this time he didn't touch the door. He didn't open it, he didn't walk in. He didn't want to go near it. He was leaving her inch by inch. He knew he had to. No matter how much it hurt him.

Chapter 41

He got to Napa at six o'clock the next night, and stopped at his place to change. He wanted to get out of his city clothes, and he put on comfortable flannel slacks and a plaid shirt, and over it he put a heavy Irish sweater. He didn't need more than that when he picked her up, and when he got to her office, he could feel his heart pound, he was so excited to see her. She pulled open the door, and without thinking he pulled her into his arms and spun her around as he hugged her.

“A little decorum here, please, Dr. Jones,” her partner teased as he watched them. He knew Megan had been happy lately, and now he knew why. He also suspected they'd seen each other in New York, although she hadn't said so.

The three of them left the office together, and Bernie carried the groceries to his car, as she told him about her day, and he teased her that she wasn't working hard enough. She had seen forty-one patients.

They went back to his place and made steaks and a Caesar salad, and just as they finished the steaks, her beeper went off and she looked at Bernie apologetically.

“I'm sorry. I knew that would happen.”

“So did I. Remember me? I'm your friend. It's okay.” He put the coffee on while she went to the phone and she was back a moment later with a frown.

“One of my teenagers got drunk and locked himself in the bathroom.” She sat down with a sigh, grateful for the mug of coffee he handed her with a smile.

“Shouldn't they call the fire department instead?”

“They did. He passed out and hit his head, and they want me to make sure he doesn't have a concussion. And they think his nose might be broken.”

“Oh Lord.” He smiled at her. “How about letting me play chauffeur tonight.” He didn't want her driving on New Year's Eve, and she was touched by his thoughtfulness.

“I'd like that, Bernie.”

“Finish your coffee while I dump this stuff in the sink.”

She did and they left a few minutes later in the BMW as they headed for the town of Napa. “It's nice and toasty in here,” she murmured happily. And they enjoyed the music on the way down. There was a festive air to the evening even if she was working. “I'm always glad my roof leaks on the Austin. It's so cold and drafty that it keeps me awake at night coming back from the hospital at all hours, otherwise I might wind up wrapped around a tree sometime. But there's no chance of that freezing my ass off.” He didn't like thinking of her in danger or uncomfortable, and he was glad he had driven her tonight with all the drunks on the road. And afterwards they were planning to go back to his place for dessert and more coffee. She didn't want to drink champagne while she was on duty.

“Dr. Jones …Dr. Jones to the emergency room …” They were paging her at the hospital when she got there, and Bernie settled down in the emergency room with a stack of magazines. She promised to be back as soon as she could, and she was back exactly half an hour later.

“All done?” She looked businesslike in her white coat as she nodded, and she took it off and threw it over her arm as they walked out the door.

“That was easy. Poor thing was practically out cold, and he did not break his nose, or have a concussion. But he had a hell of a bump, and he's going to feel awful tomorrow. He drank a pint of rum before his parents found him.”

“Ouch. I did that in college once. Actually rum and tequila. I thought I had a brain tumor when I woke up.”

She laughed at him. “I did it with margaritas when I was at Harvard. Someone had some damn Mexican party, and all of a sudden I couldn't stand up. It was my second year there and I never lived it down. Apparently I did everything except run up and down the street naked and barking.” She laughed at the memory, as did Bernie. “Sometimes I feel a hundred years old when I think of things like that.” They exchanged a warm look and his eyes were gentle on hers.

“One nice thing, you don't look it.” She barely looked thirty, let alone six years older. And it still amazed him to realize he'd be forty on his next birthday. Sometimes he couldn't help wondering where the time went.

They pulled into his driveway an hour and a half after they'd left his house, and he went into the living room to start a fire while she put on water for coffee. He found her in the kitchen a few minutes later and smiled at her. It was an odd way to spend New Year's Eve but they were both happy. And he brought her a steaming mug of coffee as she sat in front of the fire with her legs crossed, looking comfortable and relaxed. She looked at him happily. “I'm glad you came up this weekend, Bernie. I needed to see you.”

It was a nice thing to say, and he felt the same way about her. “Me too. It was so damn lonely in the house in the city, and this is a nice way to spend New Year's Eve. With someone you care about.” He was cautious about the words and she understood that.

“I was thinking of staying up here this week while the kids are gone. I don't mind the commute.” Her face lit up as he said it.

“That sounds wonderful.” She looked enthused as her beeper went off again, but this time it was only a five-year-old with a mild fever and she didn't have to go anywhere. She just gave standard instructions and told them she wanted to see the child in the morning, and to call her back if the little girl's fever went over a hundred and four.

“How do you do that night after night? It must be exhausting.” But he knew how much she loved it. “You give so much of yourself, Meg.” That never ceased to impress him.

“I have no one else to give it to, why not?” But she didn't look sad as she said it. It was something they had talked about before. In a way, she was married to her practice. But as she looked at him something strange happened. He suddenly couldn't keep within the boundaries he had set for himself before. Just hugging her had opened doors of desire he could no longer close. And as though it were the most natural thing in the world, he took her in his arms and kissed her. He kissed her for a long, long time, as though remembering how as he went along and liking it more and more as he did it. And when he stopped, they were both breathless. “Bernie? …” She wasn't sure what they were doing, or why. She was only sure of one thing. That she loved him.

“Should I tell you I'm sorry?” He searched her eyes but saw only tenderness there and he kissed her again without waiting for her answer.

“Sorry for what?” She was dizzy now and he kissed her again as he smiled at her, and then held her tight. He couldn't stop anymore. He had wanted her for too long without even knowing he had, and now he wanted her more than he could control. He pulled away from her suddenly, and stood up, embarrassed to have her see the huge bulge in his pants. He had an uncontrollable, enormous erection.

“I'm sorry, Meg.” He took a deep breath, and walked to the window, trying to remember Liz, but he found he couldn't, and that panicked him. He turned to Megan with the look of a lost child and she was standing just behind him.

“It's okay, Bernie … no one's going to hurt you.” And as she said it, he took her in his arms again and began to cry as this time she held him, and he kept her close to him, as though needing to feel her warmth next to him, and then he looked into her eyes, his lashes damp, his face serious and strong.

“I don't know what else I feel, Meg …but I know that I love you.”

“I love you too …and I'm your friend. …” He knew it was true, and he reached out and cupped her breasts with his hands, and then slid them over the lean flat stomach, and into her jeans and his breath caught he wanted her so much. He unzipped her jeans, and touched her softly, as her eyes closed and she moaned softly. And then without a word of protest from her, he carried her to the couch, and they lay there, in front of the fire, discovering each other's bodies. Her body was pale and her flesh was a delicate white, like slivers of moonlight, and her breasts were small and high as he touched them and they hardened, and she gently opened his pants, and reached inside to find him. He sprang into her hands with hunger, and he pushed the rest of their clothes away as he pressed himself against her, and then inside her as she gave a sharp cry of desire, and suddenly they were both crying out, in desperation, in anguish, in passion, in joy, and she clung to him as she came, and he felt as though his whole life had ended as they soared through the sky and fell back to earth together.

They lay a long time in silence, he with his eyes closed, stroking her gently, and she staring into the fire, thinking of how much she loved him.

“Thank you.” The words were a whisper from him as he lay there. He knew how much she had given him, and how desperately he needed it. More than he had ever known. He needed her love and her warmth and her help now. He was letting go of Liz, and it was almost as painful as when she died, more perhaps because this was forever.

“Don't say that. … I love you.”

He opened his eyes, and when he saw her face he believed her. “I never thought I'd say that again.” He felt a relief he had never felt before. Relief and peace and safety just being with her. “I love you.” He whispered again.

She smiled and held him close to her, like a lost child, and he fell asleep as she held him.

Chapter 42

They were both stiff when they woke up the next day, and Megan was cold, but they looked at each other anxiously, and when they saw that they had nothing to fear, they looked happy. It was New Year's Day, and Bernie teased her about the way they had spent New Year's Eve as she giggled.

He went to put the coffee on, and she found an old bathrobe of his and put it on and followed him into the kitchen. Her long, thick black hair was disheveled and she looked beautiful as she sat down and cupped her chin in her hands as she leaned her elbows on the counter. “You're a beautiful man, you know.” He was the sexiest man she had ever slept with, and she had never felt for anyone what she did for him. But she knew it could be dangerous for her. He was an invitation to a broken heart. He hadn't gotten over his wife, and he was moving back to New York in a few months. He had told her so himself. And she was old enough to know that sometimes it was the honest ones who really hurt you.

“What are you thinking about? You look awfully serious, pretty lady.”

“I'm thinking how sorry I'm going to be when you go back to New York.” She was going to be honest with him too. She had to. She had survived her own tragedies over the years, and she had scars that could not be forgotten.

“It's funny. I'm not looking forward to going back anymore. The first couple of years here, that was all I wanted.” He shrugged and handed her a mug of steaming black coffee, which was how she took it. “Now I wish I didn't have to. Why don't we not think about it for a while?”

“It's going to hurt either way.” She smiled at him philosophically. “But I figure that for you, it's worth it.”

“That's a nice thing to say.” He would have paid any price for her too. He was surprised by how much he loved her.

“I thought you were terrific the night you came to the hospital with Alex. I told the nurse …but I thought you were married. I gave myself a good lecture on the way home about not getting heated up about my patients' fathers.” He laughed and she smiled. “I did. Honestly.”

“Some speech. I wouldn't have called you cool last night.” She blushed and he came to sit next to her, wanting her again, wanting more than he could have …wanting her forever. They were living in a fairyland of love for the moment. But as he looked at her, he wanted more, and he gently opened the robe she had tied so carefully only moments before, and it fell to the floor as he led her to his room and they made love on his bed this time, and again before she finally took a shower and insisted that she had to get dressed and do rounds at the hospital with Patrick.

“I'll come with you.” His eyes were happier than they had been in two years, and hers were warm as she turned to him, still wet from the shower.

“Do you really want to come with me again?” She loved it, loved having him near her and sharing her life with him. But she also knew that that was dangerous. Sooner or later, he would have to leave her.

“I can't stay away from you, Meg.” It was honest. And it was as though having lost one woman he loved, he couldn't bear to lose another, even if it was only for an hour.

“Okay.”

They were inseparable for the entire weekend, eating and sleeping and walking and running and laughing together, and making love three and four times a day. He was like a man who had been starved for love and sex and affection and couldn't get enough of her to make up for it. And for the entire week, he came back from the city early every day, and went to meet her at her office, bringing little presents and treasures and things to eat. It was like the early days with Liz, only it was different. They both knew it wouldn't last. One day he would go back to New York and it would be over. Only that was still a long time off, as long as Paul Berman didn't find anyone to replace him.

And on their last night together before the children came home, he opened a bottle of Louis Roederer champagne and they drank it and she made dinner for him. Patrick was on call for her that night and they had a peaceful but passionate night in each other's arms until morning.

He was taking the day off to be with her too, but they were due in at six o'clock, and at four he had to head for the city.

“I hate to leave you.” They had barely been apart for ten days, and it depressed him to think of leaving her now. Things wouldn't be the same with the children around, especially Jane. She was too old and too observant to be fooled by lies, and they couldn't sleep together openly, without upsetting her terribly and violating the proprieties they both believed in. They would have to go away somewhere if they wanted to do that, or he would have to sleep at her house and leave at six in the morning to slip back before the children got up. “I'm going to miss you so damn much, Meg.” He almost felt like crying and she kissed him as he said it.

“I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here. Waiting for you.” The way she said it touched him. But he had filled a spot in her soul that had been empty for a long, long time. She knew just how deeply she loved him, maybe more than she could ever tell him, and she knew she had to love him with open arms. She had no right to cling to him, and she had promised herself not to. “I'll see you this weekend, my love.” But it wouldn't be the same now. They both knew it, and he promised to call that night once the children were in bed. But as he stood waiting for them at the airport, he felt as though he had lost something very dear to him, and he wanted to run back to her and make sure it was still there. But it was only when he went back to the house, with Nanny Pip and the children, that it hit him.

He was honestly looking for something this time. A box that Jane swore he had, with some old photographs of Grandma and Grampa. She wanted to make an album for them as a present, and he opened Liz' closet, and suddenly it was as though she were standing there, reproaching him for what he'd done with Megan. He felt as though he had cheated on her and he slammed the door, and felt breathless as he left the room without the photographs Jane wanted. He could no longer face Liz' closet.

“I don't have them.” His face was pale beneath the beard. What had he done? What had he done to Liz? Had he forgotten her? Was that it? He had sinned. He had sinned awfully. And he was sure that God would punish him. He had betrayed her.

“Yes, you do have those pictures,” Jane persisted. “Grandma said so.”

“No, I don't!” he shouted and then walked into the kitchen looking tense. “She doesn't know what she's talking about.”

“What's wrong?” Jane was confused but she knew him well.

“Nothing.”

“Yes, there is. Don't you feel well, Daddy?” He turned to face her and she saw that his eyes were brimming with tears and she ran to him and threw her arms around him, frightened.

“I'm sorry, baby. I just missed you so much I went crazy.” He wasn't sure if he was apologizing to her or to Liz, but once the children were in bed, he called Megan anyway, and his desire for her was so overpowering that he wanted to be with her as soon as he could. He felt as though he were going crazy without her.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” She had heard something strange in his voice and she thought she understood it. She knew that going back to the house he had shared with Liz would be painful. Especially now. Especially the way he was. She knew he was feeling guilty.

“I'm fine.” But he didn't sound it.

“It's okay, if you aren't.” She already knew him well and he sighed. It was a relief in some ways, annoying in others. He was embarrassed at the confusion he felt, and the guilt, but it was real and he couldn't help it.

“You sound like my mother.”

“Oh oh.” She smiled and he laughed. But she didn't press him.

“Okay, okay.” He decided to make a clean breast of it, and in the end, it brought them closer. “I feel so damn guilty. I opened the closet and it was as though I still felt her there …” He didn't know what else to say but Megan understood it.

“You still have her clothes there?”

That was embarrassing too in a way. “Yeah. I guess …”

“It's okay. You don't have to apologize, Bernie. That's your life. You have a right to all that.” She was the first person who had said that to him and he loved her all the more for it.

“I love you. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time, and I hope I don't drive you crazy.”

“You do. But not the way you mean.” She blushed faintly. “In a nice way.”

He smiled. He felt lucky again. He hadn't felt lucky in a long, long time. “How are we going to get together this weekend?”

They devised a plan where he would spend the night with her on Friday, and go home early the next morning. And it worked. It worked on Saturday too. And he went up the following Wednesday night too, and told Jane he had to go to Los Angeles on business.

He started telling them that every week, and one week he went for two nights. Only Nanny Pip knew the truth. He wanted her to know where he was, in case something happened to one of the children. He didn't tell her who it was. He just gave her the number and told her only to use it in an emergency. It embarrassed him. But she never said a word. And she never seemed shocked about it. It was as though she thought it was normal. He suspected she knew who it was. She always sent him on his way when he was going up there with a little smile and a pat on the shoulders.

And on the weekends they went to Napa, and Megan dropped by. She taught Jane how to make a nest for a little bird that fell out of a tree near the house, and she helped her set his leg when they discovered it was broken. She took Alex on errands with her and he squealed with delight now whenever he saw her coming. And Jane was slowly relenting.

“How come you like her so much, Daddy?” she questioned him one day as they were putting the dishes in the sink for Nanny.

“Because she's a nice woman. She's intelligent and kind and loving. That's not an easy combination to find.” And he had. Twice. He was a lucky man after all. He would be lucky this time until he had to move back to New York from California. But more and more lately he was questioning that decision.

“Do you love her?”

He held his breath, not sure what to say to her. He wanted to be honest but he didn't want to push her. “Maybe.” Jane looked stunned.

“You do? As much as you loved Mommy?” She looked shocked and suddenly angry.

“No. Not yet. I haven't known her for as long.” Jane nodded. It was serious then. But try as she might, she couldn't go on hating Megan. She was too easy to like, and too kind to the children, and when he had to go to Europe in April, Jane asked if they could stay with her on weekends. It was a major breakthrough, and Bernie almost cried with gratitude and relief when she said it.

“Do you really want them up there?” He had promised Jane he would at least ask her. “I could send Nanny with them.”

“I'd love it.” Her house was tiny, but if she slept on the couch, and she insisted she wanted to, she could give Nanny her room, and the children her study. And they loved it. They went up on weekends after school finished on Friday. And Bernie came back in time for Alexander's third birthday. They celebrated it all together, and afterwards Bernie went out for a long walk with Megan.

“Did something happen in New York?” She looked worried. “You seem quiet.”

“Berman thinks he's getting closer to finding someone to replace me. There's a woman he wants to hire away from another store. And they're haggling over the money. But he usually wins those kinds of battles. What'll I do, Meg?” There was a look of anguish in his eyes that touched her deeply. “I don't want to leave you.” He had missed her desperately while he was in Europe, more than he had ever thought he would.

“We'll face it when we have to.” And they made love that night as though there never would be a tomorrow. And two weeks later, he came out from the city especially to tell her the news. Berman had lost his replacement. She had signed a new contract with her old store for almost twice the money. It was a relief and yet Bernie knew he couldn't keep depending on the fates to save him.

“Hallelujah!” He had brought her champagne and they went out to dinner to celebrate that night at the Auberge du Soleil, and they had a wonderful evening. He was going to drive back to the city at eight o'clock the next morning, but she insisted that there was something she wanted to show him first. She led the way in her Austin Healy It was a perfect little Victorian house, nestled between some vineyards off the highway.

“It's beautiful. Whose is it?” He looked at it casually, as one would someone else's wife, with admiration but no urge for possession, but she was smiling at him, as though she had something up her sleeve now.

“It's an estate. It belonged to old Mrs. Moses and she died while you were in Europe. She was ninety-one years old and the house is in perfect condition.”

“Are you buying it?” He was intrigued and she seemed to know a lot about it.

“No. But I have a better idea.”

“What's that?” He glanced at his watch. He had to get to the store for a meeting.

“How about opening your store now. I didn't want to say anything until you knew if you were leaving or not. But even if you only stay for a few months, Bernie, it could be a fantastic investment.” She was so excited she looked almost girlish, and he looked at her, touched, but he knew he couldn't do it. He had no idea how soon he'd be leaving.

“Oh Meg … I can't.”

“Why not? At least let me introduce you to Phillippa.”

“Baby …” He hated to disappoint her, but she had no idea how much effort went into starting a store. “I don't just need a manager, I'd need an architect, a buyer, a …” He faltered.

“Why? You know all that stuff. And there are a dozen architects up here. Come on, Bernie, at least think about it.” She looked at him and his eyes danced a little, but not enough, and she was disappointed.

“I'll think about it, but I gotta go now. I'll be back on Saturday.” It was two days away. Their whole life was built on the days they spent together.

“Will you have lunch with Phillippa?”

“Okay, okay.” He laughed and pinched her bottom and got in his car, waving as he drove away. And she smiled to herself as she drove to the hospital, hoping it would do the trick. It was something she knew he wanted to do, and there was no reason why he couldn't do it. And she was going to do everything she could to help him. He had a right to his dream, and maybe, with luck … he would stay in California.

Chapter 43

Phillippa Winterturn had one of the funniest names and the prettiest faces Bernie had ever seen. She was a pretty white-haired woman in her early fifties and she had done everything from run a store in Palm Beach, to run a chain of them on Long Island, to work for Women's Wear Daily and Vogue and design clothes for children. She had had her finger in every aspect of the retailing pie for the past thirty years and she had even graduated from Parsons.

And Megan listened to them talk, barely able to suppress a smile. She didn't even care when she had to go back to the office to set a broken wrist for an eight-year-old. When she came back they were still talking. And by the end of lunch, Bernie's eyes were in flames. Phillippa knew exactly what she wanted to do, and she was dying to do it with him. She didn't have the money to make the investment, but Bernie felt sure that he could handle that himself, with a loan from the bank and maybe even a little help from his parents.

The trouble was, it just didn't make sense for him to undertake a project like the one they discussed. He still had to go back to New York sooner or later. But the idea preyed on his mind after his lunch with Phillippa.

He drove past the house Megan had shown him several times. It gnawed at him, but there was no point in his buying property in California except maybe as an investment.

But whenever Paul called now, Bernie sounded distant and distracted. He was suddenly haunted by old ghosts again. Liz seemed to come to mind far too often and it made him testy with Megan.

Bernie spent the entire summer with the San Francisco store, in body anyway. But his heart and his mind and his soul seemed to be somewhere else. In Napa with Megan, and the house he wished he were buying, and the store he wished he were starting. He felt guilty about his mixed emotions, and Megan sensed what was happening to him. She was very calm and quiet and supportive and she asked him no questions about his plans, and he was grateful to her for that. She was a remarkable woman. But he worried about that too now.

They had been living on borrowed time for seven months, and sooner or later they'd have to face the music. And he didn't like it. He loved being with Megan, going for long walks, talking late at night, even going to the hospital with her when she had a late-night call and she was so wonderful with the children. Alexander was crazy about her, and now so was Jane, and so was Nanny Pippin. She seemed to be the perfect woman for him …except there was still Liz' memory to contend with. He tried not to compare them to each other, they were two entirely different women, and whenever Jane tried to, Megan would always stop her.

“Your mommy was very, very special.” It was impossible to disagree with her and it was comforting to Jane when she said that. She seemed to know the children so well, and Bernie even more so. He didn't even like staying in the city anymore, and there was something about their house there that depressed him. The memories there didn't seem happy anymore, and all he could think of now was when Liz had been sick and dying, and trying so desperately to hang on, dragging herself to school, cooking dinner for them, and weakening hourly. He hated thinking about it now. It was two years since she'd left them, and he preferred thinking of other things. But it was hard to think of her at all, without thinking of her dying.

In August his parents came out to visit the children. Bernie and the children were living in Napa for the summer, and they settled in as they had the year before, and his parents took Jane on a trip as they had before. And when they brought her back, he introduced them to Megan. It was obvious who she was from the earlier description he had given them. And his mother looked her over carefully with a knowing look, but she didn't disapprove of her. She even liked her. It would have been impossible not to, even for his mother.

“So you're the doctor.” She said it almost proudly, and there were tears in Megan's eyes when she kissed her. She drove them around Napa the next day, when she was off call and Bernie was at work, and she showed them all the sights. Bernie's father could only stay for a few days. He was going to San Diego for a medical convention. And Ruth opted to stay in Napa with the children. But she was still deeply troubled about her son. She sensed that, in spite of his involvement with Megan, he was still grieving for Liz. And they talked about it over lunch at the Saint George in Saint Helena. Ruth felt that she could be open with this young woman she liked so much.

“He's not the same as he used to be.” She said it sadly, wondering if he ever would be again. In some ways he was better, more sensitive, more mature, but he had lost some of his joie de vivre after Liz died.

“It takes time, Mrs. Fine.” It had already been two years and he was only beginning to recover. And it was the decisions he had to make that were weighing on him now. The choices that were so painful. Megan or Liz' memory, San Francisco or New York, a store of his own or his loyalty to Wolffs and Paul Berman. He felt torn in every direction, and Megan knew it.

“He seems so quiet right now.” Ruth spoke to her like an old friend and Megan smiled gently. It was the smile that comforted hurt fingers and aching ears and painful tummies, and it comforted Ruth too. She felt that in this woman's hands her son would be happy.

“This is a hard time for him. I think he's trying to decide if he wants to let go. That's scary for anyone.”

“Let go of what?” Ruth looked puzzled.

“His wife's memory, the delusion that she'll come back again. It's not unlike what Jane has gone through. As long as she rejects me, she can pretend that her mother might come back one day.”

“That's not healthy,” Ruth said, and she frowned.

“But it's normal.” She didn't tell her of Bernie's dreams of his own store in the Napa Valley. That would just have upset her further. “I think Bernie's on the verge of making some decisions that are difficult for him, Mrs. Fine. He'll feel better when he gets them behind him.”

“I hope so.” She didn't ask if one of those decisions was whether or not to marry Megan. But they chatted on through lunch and she felt better when Megan dropped her off at the house after lunch and waved as she drove off. “I like that girl,” she told Bernie that night. “She's intelligent and sensitive and kind.” She took a short breath. “And she loves you.” For the first time in Bernie's memory, his mother looked frightened to annoy him, and he smiled at her.

“She's a terrific woman.”

He agreed.

“Why don't you do something about it?”

There was a long silence as he met his mother's eyes, and then he sighed. “She can't move her practice to New York, and Wolffs isn't going to keep me out here forever, Mom.” He looked as torn as he felt and his mother felt sorry for him.

“You can't marry a store, Bernard.” Her voice was soft and low. She was operating against her own interests, but for her son's and it was worth it.

“I've thought of that.”

“So?”

He sighed again. “I owe a lot to Paul Berman.”

For an instant, Ruth looked angry. “Not enough to give your life up for him, or your happiness, or the happiness of your children. As I see it, he owes you more than you owe him, after all you've done for that store.”

“It's not as simple as all that, Mother.” Bernie looked exhausted and she hurt for him.

“Maybe it should be, sweetheart. Maybe you should think about that.”

“I will.” He smiled at last and kissed her cheek, and then he whispered, “Thank you.”

Three days later she joined Lou in San Diego, and Bernie was genuinely sorry to see her go. She had become his friend over the years, and even Megan missed her.

“She's a wonderful woman, Bernie.”

He grinned at the woman he was so desperately in love with. It was their first night alone since his mother left, and it felt good to be lying side by side in her bed again. “She said the same thing about you, Meg.”

“I have a lot of respect for her. And she loves you a lot.” He smiled. He was glad that they liked each other. And she was happy just being with him. She never tired of his company, they spent hours together whenever they could, talking and hugging and making love. Sometimes they stayed awake all night just to be together.

“I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks,” he whispered as he nuzzled into Megan's neck. He was hungry for her body and the feel of her skin next to his own, as they lay side by side and made love, until the phone rang in the distance.

It always amazed them how hungry they were for each other. Their desire for each other hadn't abated in the eight months since they'd begun making love, and they were still breathless as she pulled away apologetically to reach for the phone. But she was on call for Patrick.

He lay closer to her, and fondled her nipple, not wanting to let her leave him.

“Baby, I have to …”

“Just this once … if they don't find you, they'll call Patrick.”

“They may not be able to find him.” She loved him, but she was always conscientious. She had already pulled herself away from him regretfully, and grabbed the phone on the fourth ring, with the perfume of his loving still hanging over her, as he followed her and held her bottom. “This is Dr. Jones.” It was her official voice, followed by the usual silence. “Where? …How long? …How many? …How often? Get her to intensive care …and call Fortgang.” She was already grabbing her jeans, their loving forgotten, and this time she looked worried. “And get me an anesthesiologist, a good one. I'll be right over.” She hung up the phone and turned to look at him. There was no time to mince words. She had to tell him.

“What was that?”

Oh God … it was the worst thing she had ever had to do to anyone…. “Baby …Bernie …” She started to cry, hating herself for the tears that sprang from her eyes, and instantly he knew that something terrible had happened to someone he loved. “It's Jane.” His guts shrank at the words. “She was riding her bicycle, and she was hit by a car.” She was dressing while she talked to him, and he stood staring at her, as she reached out her hands and touched his face. He looked as though he didn't understand her. He did, but he couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that God would be that terrible. Not twice in a lifetime.

“What happened? Goddammit, Megan, tell me!” He was shouting at her and she wanted to leave. She had to get to the hospital to see her.

“I don't know yet. She has a head injury, and they're getting an orthopedic surgeon in. …”

“What's broken?”

She had to tell him quickly. Time was wasting. “Her leg, arm, and hip are badly broken, and there could be some damage to her spine as well. They're not sure yet.”

“Oh my God …” He covered his face with his hands and she handed him his jeans and ran to get their shoes. She helped him put them on, as she put hers on.

“You can't let go now. You can't. We have to get to her. It may not be as bad as it sounds.” But it sounded awful, even to her, as a doctor. It was possible that Jane would never walk again. And if there was brain damage from the head injury, it would be disastrous.

He grabbed her arm. “Or it could be worse, couldn't it? She could die … or be crippled or be a vegetable for the rest of her life.”

“No.” She wiped her eyes and pulled him toward the door. “No … I won't believe that…. Come on …” But as she started her car and shot into reverse, pulling onto the highway almost without warning, he stared straight ahead, and she tried to keep him talking. “Bernie, talk to me.”

“Do you know why this happened?” He looked as though he had just died, and that was how he felt inside.

“Why?” It was something to say at least. She was going over ninety and praying the cops would come to give her an escort. The nurse at the emergency room had told her what Jane's blood pressure was. She was as close to dead as she could get, and they had a life support machine standing by for her.

“It happened because we were in bed with each other. God was punishing me.”

She felt tears sting her eyes, and pushed the accelerator down harder. “We were making love. And God isn't punishing you.”

“Yes, he was. I had no right to betray Liz …and …” He started to sob and his words cut her to the quick, but she kept talking to him all the way to the hospital, to keep him from snapping completely.

As they pulled into the parking lot, she warned him. “I'm going to jump out of the car as soon as we stop. You park it, and come inside. I'll tell you what's happening as soon as I know. I swear.” The car stopped and she looked at him. “Pray for her, Bernie. Just pray for her. I love you.” And with that she was gone and she came back to him twenty minutes later in a green surgical suit and a cap and mask, with paper slippers over her loafers.

“The orthopedic man is working with her now. He's trying to see how bad the damage is. And there are two pedi-atric surgeons coming in by helicopter from San Francisco.” She had called for them and he knew what it meant when she told him.

“She's not going to make it, is she, Meg?” His voice was half dead. He had called to tell Nanny and he was sobbing so hard she could hardly understand him. She ordered him to pull himself together and told him she'd be waiting by the phone for word. She didn't want to frighten Alexander by bringing him to the hospital. She wasn't even going to tell him. “Is she …?” Bernie was pressing her, and she could see in his eyes how guilty he felt. She wanted to tell him again that it wasn't his fault, that he wasn't being punished for betraying Liz with her, but this wasn't the place for that. She would have to tell him later.

“She's going to make it and if we're very, very lucky, she's going to walk again. Just hang onto that.” But what if she didn't? He couldn't get the thought out of his mind as Megan disappeared again. And he sank back into the chair like a rag doll, as a nurse brought him a glass of water, but he didn't want it. It reminded him of Johanssen telling him that Liz had cancer.

The helicopters landed twenty minutes later, and the two surgeons came in at a dead run. Everything was prepared for them and the local orthopedic man assisted, and so did Megan. They had brought a neurosurgeon along too, just in case, but the head injury was not as bad as they had first feared. The real damage was to her hip and the base of her spine. That was the real terror for them now. The leg and the arm were clean breaks. And in one sense, she had been lucky. If the crack in her spine had been two millimeters deeper than it was, she would have been paralyzed from the waist down forever.

The surgery took four hours, and Bernie was almost hysterical when Megan came out to him again, but at least it was over, and she held him in her arms while he sobbed.

“She's all right, baby …she's all right…” And by the next afternoon they knew she would walk again. It would take time and a great deal of therapy, but she would run and play and walk and dance and Bernie sobbed openly when they told him. He looked down at Jane's sleeping form and he could not stop crying. And the next time she woke up again, she smiled up at him, and then glanced at Megan.

“How're we doing, love?” Megan asked softly.

“I still hurt,” she complained.

“You will for a while. But you'll be out playing again in no time.”

Jane smiled wanly, looking at Megan as though she was counting on her to help her. And Bernie held Meg's hand openly with one hand as he held Jane's with the other.

Megan and Bernie called his parents together, and it was a shock for them. But Megan gave Bernie's father the details and he was as reassured as they were.

“She was very lucky,” he said with awe and relief, and Megan agreed. “It sounds like you did everything right too.”

“Thank you, sir.” It was a compliment she treasured. And she and Bernie went out for a hamburger after that to discuss the mechanics of the next few months. Jane would be in the hospital for at least six weeks and a wheelchair for months after that. There was no way she could manage the stairs of their San Francisco house in a wheelchair, nor could Nanny. They would have to stay in Napa, and he didn't hate the idea for entirely other reasons.

“Why don't you stay out here? You don't have stairs to worry about out here. She can't go to school anyway, and you could get her a tutor.” Megan looked at him thoughtfully and he smiled. A lot was suddenly coming clear to him now, and then suddenly as he looked at her he remembered what he had said to her when it happened.

“I owe you an apology, Megan.” He was looking at her tenderly across the dinner table, seeing her as though for the first time. “I felt so guilty … I have for a long time, and I was wrong. I know that.”

“It's all right.” She whispered at him. She understood it.

“Sometimes I feel guilty about how much I love you …as though I'm not supposed to do that… as though I'm still supposed to be faithful to her…. But she's gone …and I love you.”

“I know you do. And I know you feel guilty. But you don't have to. One day it'll stop.”

But the funny thing he suddenly realized was that it had. Sometime in the last day or two. Suddenly he no longer felt guilty for loving Megan. And no matter how long he had left Liz' clothes in the closet, or how much he had loved her She was gone now.

Chapter 44

The police checked out the accident, and they had even given the driver a blood test within the hour, but there was no question, it was an accident, and the woman who had struck her said she would never recover. The real fault was Jane's, but that was no consolation as she lay in the hospital, recovering from surgery and facing months in a wheelchair, and months of therapy after that.

“Why can't we go back to San Francisco?” She was disappointed to be missing school, and not to be seeing her friends. And Alexander had been scheduled to start nursery school, but all their plans were up in the air now.

“Because you can't manage the stairs, sweetheart. And neither can Nanny, with a wheelchair. This way at least you can go out. And we'll get you a tutor.” She looked bitterly disappointed. It had ruined her whole summer, she said. It had almost ruined her life, and Bernie was grateful it hadn't.

“Will Grandma Ruth come back out?”

“She said she would, if you want her.” Everything was on hold for the moment.

That brought a small smile, and Megan was spending most of her off-duty hours with her, and they had long thoughtful conversations that brought them closer than they'd been before. The fight seemed to have gone out of her around the same time the guilt had gone out of Bernie. He seemed more peaceful than he had in a while, but he was stunned by the call that came the next day. It was from Paul Berman.

“Congratulations, Bernard.” There was an ominous pause, and Bernie held his breath. He sensed that something earthshaking was coming. “I have an announcement to make to you. Three of them, in fact.” He didn't waste a moment. “I'm retiring in a month and the board just voted you into my shoes. And we just hired Joan Madison from Saks to fill your shoes in San Francisco. She'll be there in two weeks. Can you get everything wrapped up in San Francisco by then?” Bernie's heart stopped. Two weeks? Two weeks to say goodbye to Megan? How could he? And Jane couldn't be moved for months, but that wasn't the point now. The point was something entirely different and he had to tell him. There was no point putting it off any longer.

“Paul.” He felt his chest tighten and wondered if he would have a heart attack. That would certainly simplify everything. But it wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want an easy out now. He knew exactly what he wanted. “I should have told you a long time ago. And if I'd known you were planning to retire, I would have. I can't take the job.”

“Can't take it?” Paul Berman sounded horrified. “What do you mean? You've invested almost twenty years of your life preparing for it.”

“I know I have. But a lot of things changed for me when Liz died. I don't want to leave California.” Or Megan … or a dream that she had spawned….

Berman was suddenly frightened. “Has someone else offered you a job? Neiman-Marcus? … I. Magnin? …” He couldn't imagine that Bernie would defect to another store, but maybe they had made him a remarkable offer. But Bernie was quick to reassure him.

“I wouldn't do something like that to you, Paul. You know my loyalty to the store, and to you. This is just based on a lot of other decisions I had to make in my life. There are some things I want to do here that I couldn't do anywhere else in the country.”

“I can't imagine what, for heaven's sake. New York is the lifeline of our business.”

“I want to start my own business, Paul.” There was stunned silence on the other end, and Bernie smiled to himself as he said it.

“What kind of business?”

“A store. A small specialty store, in the Napa Valley.” He felt like a free man just saying the words and he could feel the tension of the last months just flowing out of his body. “It won't be competition for you, but I want to do something very special.”

“Have you done anything about starting it yet?”

“No. I had to make a decision about Wolffs first.”

“Why not do both?” Berman was desperate and Bernie could sense it. “Open a store out there and get someone else to manage it for you. Then you can come back here and take the place you've earned for yourself at Wolffs.”

“Paul, it's something I've dreamed of for years, but it's not right for me anymore. I have to stay here. It's the right decision for me. I know it.”

“This is going to be a terrible shock to the board.”

“I'm sorry, Paul. I didn't mean to embarrass you, or put you in an awkward position.” And then he smiled. “Looks like you can't retire yet then. You're too young to do a foolish thing like that anyway.”

“My body doesn't agree with you, especially this morning.”

“I'm sorry, Paul.” And he was, but he was also very happy. He sat in peaceful silence in his office for a long time after the call. His replacement was coming in two weeks. After years with Wolffs, he was going to be free in two weeks …free to start a store of his own …but there were other things he had to do first. And he left the store in a hurry at lunchtime.

The house was deathly quiet as he turned the key in the lock, and the silence which greeted him was as painful as it had been ever since she died. He still expected to find her there, to see her pretty smiling face as she emerged from the kitchen, tossing her long blond hair over her shoulder and wiping her hands on her apron. But there was no one. Nothing. There hadn't been in two years. It was all over, along with the dreams that had gone with it. It was time for new dreams, a new life, and with his heart in his mouth, he dragged the boxes into the front hall, and then into their bedroom. He sat down on their bed for a moment, and then stood up quickly. He had to do it before he started to remember her again, before he inhaled the perfume of the distant past too deeply.

He didn't even take the clothes off the hangers, he just lifted them off the racks in bunches, like the boys in their stockrooms, and dumped them into the boxes along with armloads of shoes and sweaters and handbags. He kept only the beautiful opera gown and her wedding dress, thinking that one day Jane would like to have them. But an hour later, everything else stood in the front hall in six enormous boxes. It took him another half hour to get them all down to his car and stowed inside, and then he walked back into the house for a last time. He was going to sell the house, but without Liz, there was nothing in it he cared about now anyway. It held no charm for him. She had been the charm of their entire existence.

He gently closed the closet door. There was nothing in it now except the two dresses he had saved in their plastic cases from Wolffs. The rest was empty. She needed no clothes now. She rested in a peaceful place in his heart, where he could always find her. And with a last look around the silent house, he walked quietly to the door, and then outside into the sunshine.

It was a short drive to the thrift shop he knew she had used before for Jane's cast-off clothes. She always felt that nothing should go to waste, and someone could use the things they no longer needed. The woman at the desk was pleasant and chatty and she insisted on giving Bernie a receipt for his “generous donation,” but he didn't want it. He only smiled sadly at her and walked out the door, back to the car, and went quietly back to the office.

And the store looked different to him now as he rode up the escalator to the fifth floor. Somehow Wolffs wasn't his now. It belonged to someone else. To Paul Berman and a board in New York. And he knew it would be painful to leave, but he was ready.

Chapter 45

Bernie left the store early that afternoon. There were a number of things he had to do. And he felt exhilarated as he stopped on his errand, and then headed for the Golden Gate Bridge. He had made an appointment with the real estate broker for six o'clock, and he had to drive like crazy to make it. He was twenty minutes late when he arrived, thanks to traffic in San Rafael, but the woman was still waiting for him. And so was the house Megan had shown him months before. The price had even dropped, and it had cleared probate in the meantime.

“Will you be living here with your family?” the woman inquired as she filled out the preliminary papers. Bernie had written her a check as a deposit, and was anxious to get to work to raise the rest of the money.

“Not exactly.” He had to get permission to use the house commercially and he was not yet ready to explain anything to this woman.

“It'll make a wonderful rental property with a little work.”

“I think so too.” He smiled. Their business was concluded at seven o'clock. And he went to a pay phone and dialed Megan's exchange, hoping she was on duty and not Patrick.

When a voice answered a moment later, he asked for Doctor Jones, and the officious voice at the other end informed him that she was in the emergency room but they could page her, if he would give them his name, his child's name and age, and the problem. He claimed to be a Mr. Smith with a little boy called George, who was nine years old and had a broken arm.

“Couldn't I just meet her at the emergency room? He's in a lot of pain.” He felt rotten using a ruse like that, but it was for a good cause, and the operator agreed to warn Dr. Jones that they were coming. “Thank you.” He hid the smile in his voice and hurried back to his car to drive to the hospital to meet her. And he saw her standing at the desk with her back to him as he walked in, and his whole body smiled at the sight of her. The bright shiny dark hair and the tall, graceful body were just exactly what he had longed to see all day. He walked up behind her and gently patted her behind as she jumped and then grinned, attempting unsuccessfully to look reproachful.

“Hi there. I was just waiting for a patient.”

“I'll bet I can guess who.”

“No, you can't. He's a new patient. I haven't even met him myself.”

Bernie leaned toward her and whispered in her ear. “Mr. Smith?”

“Yes …I …how did …” And then she blushed. “Bernie! Were you playing tricks on me?” She looked stunned but not really angry. It was the first time he had ever done that.

“You mean little George and the broken arm?”

“Bernie!” She wagged a finger at him, and he pulled her gently into an examining room, while she scolded him.

“That's a terrible thing to do. Remember the boy who cried wolf.”

“That was Wolffs and I don't work there anymore.”

“What?” She looked truly stunned and stared at him in amazement. “What?”

“I quit today.” He looked delighted as he grinned at her, looking far more boyish than the imaginary George ever could have.

“Why? Did something happen?”

“Yes.” He laughed. “Paul Berman offered me his job. He wanted to retire.”

“Are you serious? Why didn't you take it? That's what you've worked for all your life.”

“That's what he said.” He was fishing for something in his pocket and he looked extremely happy as she continued to stare at him in amazement.

“But why? Why didn't you …”

He looked her straight in the eye. “I told him I was opening my own store. In the Napa Valley.”

If it was possible, she looked even more stunned as he beamed proudly at her. “Are you serious or crazy, Bernie Fine?”

“Both. But more about that later. First, there's something I want to show you.” And he still had to tell her about the house he had just bought, to house their store. But there was something else he wanted to show her first. He had picked it out with enormous care and thought after he left the office. He handed her a small gift-wrapped box, which she eyed with more than a little suspicion.

“What's that?”

“A very, very small black widow spider. Be careful when you open the box.” He was laughing like a boy and her hands trembled as she fought with the wrapping and then found herself holding a black velvet box from a well-known international jeweler.

“Bernie, what is this?”

He stood very close to her and gently touched her silky black hair and spoke so softly that only she could have heard him. “This, my love, is the beginning of a lifetime.” He snapped the box open for her and she gasped as she saw the handsome emerald ring surrounded by small diamond baguettes. It was a beautiful ring, a beautiful stone, and the emerald had seemed just right for her. He hadn't wanted to get her a ring like the one he'd bought Liz. This was a whole new life. And now he was ready for it. And when he looked at her, there were tears sliding slowly down her cheeks, and she cried as he put it on and then kissed her. “I love you. Will you marry me, Meg?”

“Why are you doing all this? Quitting your job …proposing …deciding to open a store …you can't make decisions like that in one afternoon. That's crazy.”

“I've been making them for months, and you know it. I just took a long time before I did anything about it, and now it's time.”

She looked up into his eyes with joy and a little fear. He was a man well worth waiting for, but it hadn't been simple. “What about Jane?”

“What about her?” Bernie looked startled.

“Don't you think we should ask her first?”

He looked suddenly frightened but Megan insisted.

“She has to adjust to what we want.”

“I think we have to tell her before it's a fait accompli,” and after a ten-minute discussion, Bernie agreed to go upstairs and discuss it with her, but he was afraid that she wasn't ready.

“Hi.” He smiled at her nervously and she sensed something strange about him instantly as they walked into the room, and she could still see the tears on Megan's eyelashes.

“Something wrong?” She looked worried but Megan was quick to shake her head.

“Nope. We want your advice about something.” She was concealing her left hand in the pocket of her white coat, so Jane didn't see the ring first.

“Like what?” Jane looked intrigued and as though she suddenly felt very important. And she was. To both of them.

Megan looked at Bernie and he moved closer to Jane and reached for her hand as he stood next to the bed. “Megan and I want to get married, sweetheart, and we want to know how you feel about it.” There was a long, pregnant silence in the room as Bernie held his breath and Jane looked at both of them and then smiled slowly as she lay back against her pillows.

“And you asked me first?” They both nodded and she grinned. This was terrific. “Wow. That's really something.” Even her mother hadn't done that, but she didn't tell Bernie.

“Well, what do you think?”

“I think it's okay …” She smiled at Megan. “No … I think it would be pretty nice really.” All three of them grinned and Jane started to giggle. “Are you gonna give her a ring, Daddy?”

“I just did.” He fished Megan's hand out of her pocket. “But she wouldn't say yes, till you did.” Jane shot a glance at Megan that said they were friends forever for that one.

“Are we gonna have a big wedding?” Jane inquired and Megan laughed.

“I haven't even thought of that. So much happened today.”

“You can say that again.” He told Jane about leaving Wolffs, and then he told them both about the house he was buying to open his store in. They both stared at him in amazement.

“You're really going to do it, Daddy? Open the store, and we'll move to Napa and everything?” Jane clapped her hands in excitement.

“I sure am.” He grinned at both his ladies and sat down on one of the chairs provided for visitors. “I even thought of a name for it on the drive up here.”

Both of his ladies waited expectantly. “I was thinking about both of you, and Alexander, and all the good things that have happened lately …the fine moments in my life, and then it came to me.” Megan slipped her hand into his, and he could feel the emerald on her finger and it pleased him as he smiled at her and then at his daughter. “I'm going to call it 'Fine Things.' What do you think of that?”

“I love it.” Megan smiled happily at him and Jane squealed with delight. She didn't even mind being stuck in the hospital now, so many good things were happening to them.

“Can I be a bridesmaid at the wedding, Meg? Or flower girl or something?” There were tears in Megan's eyes as she smiled at her and nodded, and then Bernie leaned over and kissed his bride.

“I love you, Megan Jones.”

“I love all three of you,” she whispered, glancing from father to daughter, and including Alexander. “And Fine Things is a beautiful name…. Fine Things …” It was a fitting description of all that had happened to him since he'd met her.

a cognizant original v5 release october 14 2010

FINE THINGS

A Dell Book

Published by

Bantam Dell

A Division of Random House, Inc.

New York, New York

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents

either are the product of the author's imagination or are used

fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved

Copyright © 1987 by Danielle Steel

Dell is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc., and the

colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

eISBN: 978-0-307-56644-7

www.bantamdell.com

v3.0

Table of Contents

Also by Danielle Steel

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45