“She moved … oh my God …Trygve, she moved …” The nurses had seen something from their station, and two of them came running. “She moved her face toward me,” Page said with tears streaming down her face, as she bent to kiss her. “You moved your face, sweetheart …I saw it …and I heard you … oh baby, I heard you.” She stayed next to her, kissing her, as Trygve cried as he watched them. One of the nurses went to call Dr. Hammerman, he was in the building, and he appeared five minutes later. She described what she had seen, and Trygve confirmed it. The nurses added what they had seen, and showed him the tape from Allie's machines. The motion and the sound had showed up in her brain waves.

“It's hard to say what this means,” he said cautiously. “It could be a good sign, or it may not mean anything. It certainly gives us room to hope that she may be moving closer to consciousness, but Mrs. Clarke, you have to understand that a gesture and a moan don't necessarily mean her brain function is normal. But not to discourage you …this could be a beginning. Let's hope it is,” he said conservatively, but nothing could take away Page's joy as she watched her daughter. She did not move again that day, but she did the same thing again when Page was with her the next morning. She called Brad at his office to let him know too, and they told her he was in St. Louis and finally she tracked him down in his hotel that night, and he was pleased, but not as excited as she had hoped. Like Hammerman, he reminded her it might mean nothing.

“She hears me, Trygve, I know it,” she told him that night, still excited. She and Andy had had dinner with them, and the following night he was taking her to the Silver Dove. “It's like calling down a deep dark hole. At first you don't know if anybody's there, and all you can hear is the echo. I've been calling down there for almost seven weeks, and I haven't heard a sound except my own voice …and all of a sudden someone is calling up to me, I know it.” He hoped she was right, but like the others, he was afraid to get her hopes up.

And for the rest of the week, every day Allie stirred a little bit, but she never opened her eyes, or spoke, or made a sign that she understood what was being said. She just moaned and moved her head occasionally. It might mean a lot eventually, or it could mean nothing.

But Page was still excited the next day when he picked her up to take her to dinner. Andy was at Jane's and she had said she would pick him up when she got home, if it wasn't too late. And if it was, Jane had said she didn't mind keeping him until morning. He was in bed in one of her children's rooms, in his pajamas, and Page would just scoop him up in his sleep whenever she got there. And Trygve had left a sitter at home to help Chloe.

“You look incredible.” Trygve stared at her in open admiration. She was wearing a strapless white silk dress and pearls, with a pale blue shawl around her shoulders. It was exactly the color of her eyes, and her hair hung loosely down her back, not unlike Allie's. “Wow!” he said, and she laughed as she got into his car, and they headed for Corte Madera.

He had reserved a quiet table for two, and she was surprised to realize there was dancing. It was the most romantic spot she'd seen in years, and she felt special and spoiled as they took their seats and he ordered wine, and they looked at the menus. He ordered duck, and she ordered sole Florentine, they both had soup to start, and he ordered chocolate soufflé for dessert. It was a wonderful dinner, a lovely place, a perfect evening. They danced afterward, and she felt his body close to hers. It surprised her to realize how strong he was, and how supple. He was a terrific dancer.

They left the restaurant at eleven o'clock, and Page smiled happily at him. They had hardly drunk any wine, but she felt drunk on the excitement of the evening. “I feel like Cinderella,” she said blissfully, “when am I going to turn into a pumpkin?”

“Never, I hope.” He smiled and drove her home. He played music in the car, and walked her slowly to the door, feeling like a boy again himself. And it was different suddenly when he kissed her at the door. Suddenly they both felt shy, and yet as he held her, he felt swept along by the tides of mounting passion.

“Do you want to come in for a minute?” she asked breathlessly, and he smiled as he answered.

“Are you timing me? Is that my limit?”

She laughed and unlocked the door, and they both stepped inside but got no further. She never even turned on the light. They just stood there, kissing in the dark, as he touched her body hungrily, overwhelmed by her beauty and his passion.

“I love you, Page,” he whispered in the dark. “I love you so much …” He had waited two months for this, through the storm that had battered them and their families, but in truth he had waited years for this, maybe an entire lifetime.

They stood together swaying in unison as they whispered to each other and kissed, until he couldn't stand it anymore, and neither could she. Without saying anything, he led her to where he knew her bedroom was, and then stood there in the dark, and undressed her, and she didn't stop him.

“You're incredible,” he said as the dress fell away from her. “Oh Page …” He devoured her with his lips, his hands, and slowly she undressed him, until at last they stood naked together in the moonlight. He lifted her gently onto the bed, and caressed her with his lips until she moaned in pleasure, arched toward him, and then led him toward her. Their union was a powerful one, throbbing, arching for what they had both longed for, until at last they both exploded in unison, and lay spent in each other's arms, stunned by the force of what they felt for each other. It was a long time before either of them spoke as Trygve gently stroked her hair and she kissed him.

“If I'd known that two months ago,” he whispered finally, “I'd have taken you home with me the night of the accident,” he said, and she laughed with pleasure.

“You're silly …but oh how I love you.” The amazing thing was that she did. He was right for her in ways that Brad never had been and she'd refused to see it, not just sexually, but they were both so compatible, so artistic, so at ease, so in tune with each other and their children. They were both nurturers, and they nurtured each other now with the gratitude of people who know they have been lost for a long time, and are found at last. Trygve felt like a starving man who had been fed at last as he held her.

“Where were you twenty years ago when I needed you, Goldilocks?” he teased and she thought about it for a minute.

“Let's see, by then I was working off off-Broadway and going to art school when I could afford it.”

“I would have loved you.”

“I would have loved you too.” But she had still been very shaken by her experience with her father. “It's amazing, isn't it?” she mused. “We could have lived in the same community for years and never really known each other. And now, here we are, and our lives have changed completely.”

“Fate, my dear.” It blessed, and it destroyed, and it had done both to them. But at last, this was the blessing.

They lay talking for hours, and then finally, reluctantly, he got up. He had to go home to Bjorn and Chloe and send the sitter home. But it was too late for her to retrieve Andy at Jane's. It was three o'clock in the morning.

“You mean you'll be here all alone all night?” he asked, horrified, as she nodded. “What a waste! I can't stand it.” In the end, they made love again, and it was four in the morning as she kissed him in her bathrobe in the doorway.

“What time do you take Andy to school?” he asked between kisses. He looked sated and happy, and so did Page. They looked like passionate young lovers, barely able to tear themselves from each other.

“Eight o'clock.”

“What time do you get back here?” he asked, sounding desperate.

“About eight-fifteen.”

“I'll meet you here at eight-thirty.”

“My God, you're a sex fiend.” She laughed.

He pulled away from her for an instant, “Did I forget to warn you? That's why Dana left, you know, the poor thing was worn out.” They both laughed and he kissed her again. The truth was, of course, that he and Dana hadn't even slept with each other for the last two years, and he had begun to wonder if he had lost it. But whatever he had lost, he had just found again, and then some.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked more seriously.

“Going to the hospital.”

“I'll come have breakfast with you, and take you there.” She nodded, and he kissed her one more time, and then tore himself from her arms and forced himself to walk to his car. But he ran back for one more kiss as they both laughed, and then finally he went home. And true to his word, he was back at eight-thirty in the morning. She hadn't really thought he'd meant it. She had picked up Andy and taken him to school. She was doing laundry and singing to herself when Trygve arrived. And instantly, she found herself smiling.

“Good morning, my love,” he said, coming through the door with an armload of flowers. He was the most romantic man she'd ever known, and the kindest. “Ready for breakfast?” But they never made it to the kitchen. He started kissing her again, and five minutes later they were in her bed, still unmade from the night before, and just as inviting.

“Do you think we'll ever get anything done from now on?” he asked, lying on his side, admiring her for the thousandth time that morning.

“I doubt it. I'll have to give up doing murals.”

“I'll forget writing.” But their schedules were so flexible, their lives so free, their hunger for each other so enormous, it was fun to realize how much time they had to indulge it. “Do they have day care at Andy's school?” he continued to tease, and then kissed her again. But this time she chased him out of bed. It was eleven o'clock and she had to go see Allie. Now that she had started to show some improvement, however small, Page didn't want to miss a moment with her.