“Thank you so much.” It was embarrassing to be waited on, but the food looked wonderful to her as she sat up on the edge of the bed, her jacket rumpled, her shirt creased, her hair disheveled from the way she had lain. And without another word, Mrs. Hahn set the tray down on a small table beside the bed, and left the room again.

And as Mel devoured the eggs and toast, suddenly ravenous, she heard soft bumping sounds upstairs, and wondered if it was Matthew or Pam getting ready for school. But she didn't have the strength to be polite and go upstairs to see them. She downed the hot chocolate, ate the last of the toast, and lay down again, sated, exhausted, pleased with her night's work, and lying on her back, she closed her eyes with her head on her arms, and it was three o'clock in the afternoon when she awoke again. She looked at her watch in shock, and jumped off the bed, but she suddenly realized there was nowhere she had to go. She wondered what Mrs. Hahn would think of her sleeping all day, and any minute the children would be home. And when she'd gone to sleep they had just been getting up to go to school. And then as she walked around the room, she began wondering how Marie had fared for the past seven hours. She saw a phone on a desk across the room, and walked to it in stocking feet, looking down at the wrinkled clothes she wore. She dialed the hospital at once, asked for the cardiac floor, and then for Peter himself, and the woman who answered told her that he could not be called to the phone, and Melanie wondered if he was asleep too.

“I was calling to see how Marie Dupret, the transplant patient, is.” There was a silence at the other end. “This is Melanie Adams. I was in the operating room last night.” But she didn't need to say more. Everyone in the hospital knew who she was, and that she was doing a story on Peter Hallam and Pattie Lou Jones.

“Just a moment please.” The voice was crisp and she was put on hold, and then an instant later she heard a familiar voice.

“You're awake?”

“Barely, but I am. And mortified to have slept all afternoon.”

“Bull. You needed it. You were ready to pass out when you left here. Did Mrs. Hahn give you something to eat?”

“She certainly did. This is the best hotel in town.” She smiled as she looked around die comfortable, well-decorated room, and imagined that here again all had been arranged by Anne. “How's Marie?”

“She's doing great.” He sounded pleased. “I couldn't take the time to explain it to you last night, but we tried a new technique, and it worked. I'll draw you a few sketches later, but suffice it to say for now that so far, so good. We won't know about rejection anyway for at least a week.”

“How long before she's out of the woods?”

“A while.” The rest of her life, Mel knew. “We think she'll do fine. She met all our criteria for a potential success.”

“I hope she keeps it up.”

“So do we.” She was struck again by how little of the credit he took for himself, and couldn't help but admire him again.

“Did you get any sleep?”

He sounded vague. “Some. I decided to do rounds myself this morning, and I lay down for a while after that. I'll probably come home tonight for dinner with the kids. I can leave someone else in charge here by then.” And then he had a thought. “I'll see you then, Mel.” He sounded so friendly and warm, and she was suddenly anxious to see him again.

“Your children are going to get awfully tired of me.”

“I doubt that. They'll be thrilled that you're still here, and so am I. What time's your plane, or have you thought about that yet?”

“I guess I'll take the same flight tonight.” She felt rested enough to tackle the red eye, after sleeping all day. “I should leave here at eight o'clock.”

“That works out fine. Mrs. Hahn feeds us at seven as a rule, and I'll be home by six if all goes well here. If anything comes up, I'll give you a call.” For a moment, she could almost imagine him saying the same thing to Anne, and it felt strange to listen to him, as though she were trying to take the dead woman's place, but she chided herself for being foolish as he said good-bye. There was nothing unusual about what he had said, and she was irritated with herself for fantasizing again. And as though to wash away her thoughts of him, she walked into the shower and turned it on full blast, dropped her clothes on the bed, and stood beneath the steam. It occurred to her then that she could also swim in the pool but she didn't want to go outside yet. She needed time to wake up and clear her head, it had been a long night, and when she got out of the shower she realized that she had to call the studio in New York, and then Raquel. She had asked the story editor to call her home the night before, and she hoped he had. And Raquel confirmed that to her when she reached her home number. The girls were disappointed that she hadn't come home that day, but she promised that the following morning she'd be there. And then she called the newsroom and told them that all was well. She reassured them that the transplant had been an enormous success, and they had gotten every moment of it on film.

“It's going to be a great piece, guys. You'll see.”

“Agreed. It'll be good to see you back, Mel.” But she didn't entirely agree. She wasn't anxious to leave L.A., or Peter, there seemed to be so many reasons to stay here. Pattie Lou, Peter, Marie … all excuses, she knew, but she just didn't want to go.

She put down the phone and dressed and then left her room to find Mrs. Hahn. She found her in the kitchen, making pot roast for that night. Mel thanked her again for the breakfast she'd brought her when she arrived and apologized for sleeping all day.

Mrs. Hahn looked unimpressed. “The doctor said that was why you were coming here. Would you like something to eat?” She was efficient but not warm, and there was something intimidating about the way she spoke and moved. She was definitely not the kind of woman Mel would have wanted around her kids, and wondered that Peter did. He seemed wanner to her than that, and with no mother around … but again Mel remembered that she had been hired by Anne. Sacred Anne.

Mel declined the offer of food, and settled for a cup of black coffee, and then made herself a piece of toast. She sat in the bright garden room filled with white wicker chairs.

To Mel, it seemed the sunniest room in the house, and the one she was most comfortable in. The formality of the other rooms put her off, but this one did not, and she lay down on a chaise longue and ate her toast, looking out at the peaceful view of the pool. She didn't even hear footsteps and had no idea she wasn't alone until she heard the voice.

“What are you doing here?”

She jumped up with a start, spilling some of her coffee on her leg, but thanks to her black gabardine pants, she didn't get burned. And as she turned, she saw Pam. “Hello. You surprised the hell out of me.” She smiled, but Pam did not.

“I thought you were in New York.”

“I almost was. But I stayed to watch your father do a transplant last night. It was fabulous.” Her eyes lit up again as she remembered Peter's deft hands, but his daughter looked unimpressed and disgruntled.

“Oh yeah.”

“How was school, Pam?”

She stared at Mel. “This was my mother's favorite room.”

“I can understand that. I like it too, there's so much sunshine here.” But the comment had increased the awkwardness between them, just as Pam had intended.

Pam sat down slowly across the room from Mel, and glanced outside. “She used to sit here every day and watch me play in the pool.” It was well set up for that and just a pleasant place to be. Mel watched the girl's face and the sadness she saw there and she decided to take the bull by the horns.

“You must miss her a lot.”

Something hardened in Pam's face, and she didn't answer for a long time. “She could have had an operation, but she didn't trust my dad to do it.” It was a brutal thing to say, and inwardly Mel cringed if that was what Pam thought of Anne's decision.

“I don't think it was as simple as that.”

She jumped to her feet. “What do you know about it, except what he told you?”

“It was a choice she had a right to make.” But Mel knew she was treading on delicate ground. “Sometimes it's difficult to understand why other people do things.”

“He couldn't have saved her anyway.” She walked nervously around the room as Mel watched. “She'd have been dead by now, even with a transplanted heart.” Mel nodded slowly, most likely it was true.

“What would you have liked her to do?”

Pam shrugged and turned away and Mel saw her shoulders shake. Without giving it a second thought she went to her. “Pam …” She turned her slowly around and saw the tears running down the young girl's face, she gently took her in her arms and let her cry. Pam stood there for a few minutes leaning against Mel, as Mel gently stroked her hair. “I'm so sorry, Pam …”

“Yeah. Me too.” She pulled away at last and sat down again, wiping her face on her sleeve. She looked at Mel with misery in her face.” I loved her so much.”

“I'm sure she loved you too.”

“Then why didn't she try? She'd have at least been here till now.”

“I don't know the answer to that, maybe no one does, I think your father asks himself the same thing all the time, but you have to go on. There isn't anything else you can do, as much as it hurts.” Pam nodded silently, and looked at Mel.

“I stopped eating for a while. I think I wanted to die too.” At least it was what the psychiatrist had said. “Mark thinks I did it just to bug Dad, but I didn't. I couldn't help it.”

“Your father understands that. Do you feel better about things now than you did then?”