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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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