“What's with you?” The story editor growled at her as he rushed past, carrying two cans of film.

“I'm happy to be back.”

He shook his head, muttering, as he disappeared. “Fool.”

She found a stack of mail on her desk, memos, summaries of major news items she'd missed while she was gone, and went out into the hall to watch the Teletypes coming in for a while. There had been an earthquake in Brazil, a flood in Italy that had killed a hundred and sixty-four people, the President was going down to the Bahamas for a long weekend to fish. The news of the day didn't look overwhelmingly bad or good, and when her secretary came to tell her that there was a call for her, she went back into her office and picked up the phone without sitting down, and answered absentmindedly, glancing at the memos on her desk.

“Adams here.”

There was a moment's pause, as though she'd thrown someone off with the brusque words, and she heard a long-distance purr. But she didn't even have time to wonder who it was. “Is this a bad time?” She recognized the voice instantly and sat down, surprised to hear from him. Maybe, with some time to think in her absence, he was getting worried about the piece.

“Not at all. How are you?” Her voice was soft and at his end he felt the same mysterious stirring he'd felt in his soul since they met.

“I'm fine. I finished surgery early today and thought I'd call to make sure you got back all right. Did you find your bag in New York?” He sounded nervous, and she was pleased by the call.

“I did. How's Marie?” Maybe he had called to give her bad news.

“She's doing beautifully. She asked for you today in fact. And so did Pattie Lou. She's the real star around here.”

Mel felt tears sting her eyes, and suddenly once again she felt the same ache she'd felt on the plane, of wanting to be in L.A. and not New York. “Tell her I send my love. Maybe when she's feeling a little better, I'll give her a call.”

“She'd love that. And how are your girls?” He seemed to be groping for something to say and Mel was both confused and touched.

“They're fine. I think Valerie fell in love a few more times while I was gone, and Jessica is desperately jealous that I got to watch the transplant. She's the more serious of the two.”

“She's the one who wants to go to med school, isn't she?” Melanie was surprised that he'd recalled and she smiled.

“That's the one. She read her sister the riot act this morning, about falling in love six times a week.”

Peter laughed from his little cubicle in the hospital on the West Coast. He had billed the call to his home phone. “We used to have the same problem with Mark when he was about Pam's age. But in the last few years he's settled down.”

“Ah, but wait for Matt!” Mel laughed. “That one's going to be the lady's man of all time.”

Peter laughed too. “I have a sneaking suspicion that you're right.” There was a comfortable pause and then Mel filled the gap.

“How's Pam?”

“She's all right. Nothing new.” He sighed into the phone. “You know, I think it did her good to talk to you. Just to be able to relate to someone other than Mrs. Hahn.” Mel didn't dare tell him what she thought of the icy woman. She didn't feel it was her place to speak up.

“I enjoyed talking to her too.” Her emotional needs seemed so desperate, and there seemed to be a lot of anger to vent too. Mel couldn't resist asking him then. “Did they get the little packages I sent yet?”

“Packages?” He sounded surprised. “Did you send them gifts? You shouldn't have done that.”

“I couldn't resist. I saw something perfect for Pam, and I didn't want to leave Matthew and Mark out. Besides, they were very tolerant about letting me hang around. As you said, you haven't seen people much since … in the past year and a half—she hastened to fill the awkward gap—“so it must have seemed strange to them to have me appear. The least I could do was send them a little surprise to thank them for their hospitality.”

He was touched by the thought and his voice was soft. “You didn't have to do that, Mel. We enjoyed having you here.” His words almost caressed her face and she blushed. There was something deeply intimate about this man, even by phone, with three thousand miles in between, and she found herself thinking of him again in ways she hadn't wanted to. It was almost impossible not to be drawn to him. He was at the same time vulnerable and strong, humble and kind and yet so full of the miracles he wrought. It was a combination which, for Mel, had enormous appeal. She had always liked strong men, and yet too often she had shied away from them. It was easier to get involved with lesser lights than he.

“I really enjoyed working with you, you know.” She wasn't sure what else to say, and still wasn't sure why he'd called.

“You stole my lines. That's what I was calling to tell you. I'd been very apprehensive about doing the interview. And you made me glad I decided to go through with it. Everyone here is.” But not as much as he was, though he didn't tell her that.

“Well, wait until you see it all on film. I hope you like it as much then.”

“I know I will.”

“I'm grateful for your faith in me.” And she truly was, but there was something more to what she felt as well, and she wasn't quite sure what it was.

“It's not just a matter of that, Mel. I …” He didn't quite know how to put his feelings into words, and suddenly wondered if he should have called. She was a woman who signed autographs and appeared on national TV. “I just like you a hell of a lot.” He felt as awkward as a fifteen-year-old boy and they both smiled, in L.A. and New York.

“I like you too.” Maybe it was just as simple as that, and there was no harm in it. Why was she fighting so hard against what she felt? “I liked working with you, meeting your kids, seeing your home.” And then she understood something else. “I think I was especially touched that you let me into your private life.”

“I think I felt safe doing that with you. I didn't plan it that way. In fact, I told myself before you came that I wasn't going to tell you anything personal about myself … or Anne …” His voice grew very soft again.

Mel was quick to respond. “I'm glad you did.”

“So am I…. I thought you handled the piece on Pattie Lou beautifully.”

“Thank you, Peter.” She liked what he had said. The trouble was that she liked too much about him. And then she heard him sigh softly at the other end. “Well, I guess I should let you go back to work. I wasn't even sure you'd be in after taking the red eye last night.”

She laughed softly at her end. “The show must go on. And at six o'clock I have the news to do. I was just watching the Teletypes come in when you called.”

“I hope I didn't interrupt.” He sounded contrite.

“No, it's kind of like watching the ticker tapes. After a while, you stop seeing what you read. And there's nothing major happening today, so far.”

“That's about the way it is here. I'm going to the office now. I have a lot of catching up to do, after keeping an eye on Marie and Pattie Lou for the past few days.” They were both back to their usual lives, their work, their kids, their responsibilities on separate coasts, and again she felt how much she had in common with him. He had as much resting on his shoulders as she on hers, in fact more. And it was comforting to know that there were other people in the world, carrying burdens and obligations as demanding as hers.

“You know, it's kind of nice knowing someone who works as hard as I do.” And he felt odd as she said the words. He had thought the same thing about her from the first. Even with Anne, it had bothered him sometimes that all she had to do was redecorate the house and buy antiques, work on the P.T.A. and chauffeur children from here to there. “I don't mean to sound presumptuous because my work doesn't include saving lives, but still, it's demanding as hell and most people don't understand that. Some nights I finish here and my brain is absolutely mush. I couldn't say an intelligent word to a living soul if my life depended on it when I got home.” It was one of the many reasons why she had never been tempted to marry again. She wasn't sure she could live up to the demands of it anymore.

But he felt as relieved as she. “I know exactly what you mean. But on the other hand, sometimes it's difficult not to have someone to share it with.”

“I never really have. As long as I've done well at my work, I've been alone, or more or less. I think it's easier like this.”

“Yes”—but he didn't sound convinced—“but then there's no one to share the victories with.” Anne had always been good at that, and good at sharing the heartbreaks and tragedies too. It was just that her life had never been as full as his, but on the other hand maybe that had left her freer to support him. It was difficult to imagine a working wife, and yet he had always admired hard-working teams, doctors married to other doctors, attorneys married to bankers, professors and scientists. The combinations seemed to feed on themselves, giving each one a new impetus, although at times it could also be a double drain. “I don't know the answers to all this, my friend. I just know it isn't always easy being alone.”

“Neither is being together.” She was convinced.

“No. But it has its rewards.” Of that he was sure. Especially when he looked at his kids.

“I guess that's true. I don't know the answers myself. I just know it's good talking to someone who understands what it's like to work like a mule, and then have to come home and be two parents instead of just one.” There had been times over the years when she thought she couldn't pull it off, but she had, and she had done well. Her job was secure, her success immense, her children happy, and they were good kids.