“Watch that!” he warned, and then suggested they walk to her house, to walk off the banana split. She thought it was a great idea, since they had eaten so much.

“I feel like I'm going to explode.”

“You're the size of a mouse, Fred. It's a shame you never grew.”

“I always thought so too. I hated being short.”

“You look pretty good. For a girl.” It was the kind of thing he used to say to her, when she was a kid. And she felt like one with him tonight, reminiscing about people they had forgotten, and cared about so much when they were young. It was funny to think about them again, and wonder where they went. They had both lost touch with all of them. Particularly Brad when he moved away.

They strolled slowly up Third Avenue, talking about the people they had known as kids, and remembering faces and names that neither of them had thought about in years. They turned west when they reached Seventy-fourth, and a moment later reached her house.

“That was stupid of me to let you stay at the hotel. I should have invited you to stay here. I'm sleeping in Zoe's room. You could have slept in mine.”

“I'm fine where I am,” he said with a yawn. “What time is church tomorrow?”

“We can go whenever you want. They have a lot of masses at St. Pat's, we're bound to catch one. Why don't you come for breakfast?”

“I'll call you when I wake up. Maybe I'll come over around nine, or ten.” She let herself into the house with her key, and it seemed lonely and dark. She turned to Brad with a smile.

“Do you want to come in for a glass of wine?”

“I'll never make it back to the hotel if I do. I'm beat. I'd better get some sleep, and you too.” They were both tired, and full. It had been a nice evening, and her revelation early in the day meant a lot to him. What she had shared with him was an enormous gesture of trust.

“I'm glad you had that meeting to come to,” she said gratefully. The weekends had been hard so far, and would be for a long time.

“Me too,” he said, and gave her a hug. “Sleep tight,” he said, and watched to make sure that she locked the door and turned on the lights once she was inside. And then he walked back to the hotel with a smile. He loved and respected her more than he had any other human being in his life.





18


BRAD CAME TO THE HOUSE, WITH HIS BAGS, AT NINE o'clock, just as Faith got out of the shower. She answered the door in a cashmere robe, and he handed her the Sunday paper as he walked in.

“I'm sorry. Am I too early? I woke up at the crack of dawn.”

“That's fine. I'll be ready in five minutes,” she said as she hurried off.

“I'll start breakfast while you get dressed.” He wandered into the kitchen, as she ran up the stairs in bare feet, with wet hair.

And when she came down the stairs fifteen minutes later, in a turtleneck and jeans, he was clattering and banging, and there was the smell of coffee in the air.

“Boy, that smells good,” she said, as he turned with a smile. He was standing at the stove, had muffins in the toaster, and was frying eggs for them both.

“Sunny side up or over easy?” He looked relaxed and at ease, and had made himself at home.

“Up is fine. Do you want me to do that?” She took a step toward the stove.

“I'm making breakfast for you,” he said, and then poured her a mug of coffee and handed it to her. He wanted to spoil her before he left, it was the reason he had come. “Do you want bacon? I forgot.”

“I don't think I have any, but I'm fine without.” She checked the refrigerator, and there was none. She offered to slice some fruit instead. And he allowed her to slice some oranges and peaches for both of them. He had finished the eggs by then. He put them on two plates, buttered the muffins, and added them. She set the table, and he brought the food, and they both sat down.

The eggs were delicious, and he was munching on a muffin as she smiled. “You're a very good cook.”

“I'm a great short-order chef. Hamburgers, chili, pancakes. I can always get a job in a diner if all else fails.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” It was nice having him around. It reminded her of the times when Jack had visited her in college, or on the frequent occasions when he and Debbie were separated. She had always loved it when he came to stay. Although there had always been tension between him and Alex. She couldn't help wondering, as she and Brad finished the breakfast he had made, where Alex was now, and if he was with that girl. Leslie James. Her name was emblazoned in Faith's mind.

“What were you thinking? You looked upset suddenly,” Brad commented as he fished the sports section out of the Sunday paper, and handed the rest to her.

“I was thinking about Alex. And that girl. I wonder if they're together.”

“Try not to think about it,” he said gently, as he picked up his coffee cup and looked at her pensively. “It's weird how lives change, isn't it? Six months ago, who'd have thought that I'd be sitting here having breakfast with you.” They had lost sight of each other for a long time before that.

“Yeah, and that Alex would be gone. Before I thought about them, I was thinking how nice it is to have you here. Do you come to New York a lot?” This was the third time in four months. But he had concocted an excuse this time to see her. And he was glad he had. She already looked much better than she had the day before, and far more relaxed. His trip had been worthwhile.

“It depends. I come here sporadically, depending on what conferences I sign up for, and how much I have going on at home. Most of the time, I can't get away.” His work was too crisis-oriented, and he had too many clients, to get away much. “I'll probably come through town for a day when I go to Africa to see the boys next month. Pam's coming with me,” he said, as though warning her.

“Maybe the three of us can have dinner,” Faith said easily, and Brad laughed.

“That would be fun. She already thinks I'm in love with you. If she gets a good look at you, she'll never get off my back.”

“I think I'm flattered. But I'm no threat to her. I'm like your kid sister. She'll figure that out,” Faith said confidently.

“Maybe not,” he said, and lost himself in the paper. He stayed submerged for the next half hour, while she poured them both another cup of coffee and cleaned up. It was ten-thirty by the time she was finished, and he looked up.

“Do you still want to go to church?” She didn't want to push him into anything. She liked going, but it wasn't a life-and-death matter to her, particularly if he didn't want to go. She could always go after he left.

“Actually, I do.” He stood up and stretched, and put an arm around her, and it struck her again how comfortable she was with him, and what easy company he was. It was hard to believe that he and Pam didn't get along. He was the easiest man she'd ever known.

“I'll get my bag.” She ran upstairs to get her purse and comb her hair, and five minutes later, she was in the front hall, getting a coat out of the closet. She put on a heavy shearling jacket, and a red wool scarf. Brad was wearing jeans, a heavy sweater, and a warm coat. It was cold outside, and looked like it might snow.

They took a cab to St. Patrick's, and arrived just in time for the eleven o'clock mass. Faith genuflected and slipped into a pew, and Brad slid in next to her, and they sat quietly side by side for the entire mass. She took communion and he waited for her, and he noticed at one point that she was holding the rosary beads he had given her, and he smiled. And afterward, they lit a candle for Jack at the shrine of Saint Jude. It was a comforting experience for both of them, and they both looked at peace when they walked outside. During the mass, it had started to snow.

“Do you want to walk?” she inquired, looking up at him. She loved walking in the snow.

“Yeah,” he grinned at her, “why not?” He never saw snow in San Francisco, and it was part of what he loved about New York.

They walked up Fifth Avenue and, at Sixtieth Street, crossed over and walked along the outer edge of Central Park. They walked past the zoo, and the playground north of it. Their hair was covered by snow by then, and their faces were red from the cold. It was one of those snows that really stick and seem to silence everything. It felt magical walking along with her gloved hand tucked into his arm.

“I'm going to miss you tomorrow, when you're gone,” she said sadly. “This was a real treat. After this, it's back to real life, school, and the divorce. I'm not looking forward to that. Alex is in such a hurry.” She was beginning to wonder why, and couldn't help asking herself how much it had to do with Leslie James, and if he was going to marry her after all.

“What are you doing about the house?” He wondered if it was too soon to ask.

“I don't know. He hasn't said. I don't know if he'll let me stay in it, or want me to get out so he can sell it. He paid for it, so I guess he'll try to claim it's his. I don't know how these things work.” It was Alex's money that had bought everything they had. And now he was trying to claim it all as his, at least to her. He said all she'd get out of him was minimal support, since she was young enough to go to work. She was beginning to feel as though she had no rights at all.

“If he forces you out, he has to give you someplace comparable to live,” Brad said sensibly to calm her fears. “He can't just toss you out on the street.”

“I hope not.” But even that didn't seem sure anymore. There was no telling what stunts Alex would try to pull. “I guess with the girls gone, I could get a smaller place. But it'll feel so weird to move. We've lived there for eighteen years, since Zoe was born.” Suddenly everything was up in the air, and any sense of confidence and security she'd had was down the drain.