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

“I think so.”

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

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

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

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

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

He sounded so down, she answered him immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Certainly not. We're just friends.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does Dad know? About him, I mean.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is he cute?”

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

“Do you have a picture of him?”

“No, I don't.”

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

“Did what?”

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

“Zoe Madison, stop behaving like a nut.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Zoe!”

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

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

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

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

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

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