“He won't do no harm. I'll watch them.” And then she watched Mel retreat into her room and walked into the kitchen with a grin and a cigarette. She was certainly no Mrs. Hahn, but she was a sharp old woman and she loved them.

And on Tuesday morning, Mel took the ferry back, and flew from Boston to New York. She reached the house at four o'clock in the afternoon, which gave her plenty of time to air the place out, and then turn the air conditioning on, go around the corner to buy fresh flowers and whatever groceries they might need, and then come back and get ready to meet him. His plane wasn't due in until nine, and she left for the airport at seven thirty to be cautious, which was just as well, because the traffic was heavy and cars were overheating left and right and it was eight forty-five when they got there. She had just enough time to check the gate at which he would arrive and then hurry out there, and then stand tapping her foot nervously for the next half hour, as they were fifteen minutes late. And at nine fifteen exactly, the big silver bird drew up to the gate, and passengers began deplaning. She stood watching intently as the people poured off, with California tans, and straw hats, and bare golden legs, and silk shirts open to the waist with gold chains, and then suddenly she saw a man who looked nothing like any of them in a beige linen suit and a blue shirt and navy tie, his hair only slightly bleached from the sun, and his face tan. But there was a serious air about him, as he walked toward Mel and looked down at her where she stood, and then without further ado he bent to kiss her. They stood there for what seemed like a very long time as people eddied around them like a river cascading past rocks, and then he looked at her and smiled.

“Hello.”

“How was the flight?”

“Not nearly as nice as this.” He grinned, and with that they walked hand in hand to pick up his baggage, and then went to hail a cab. But time and time again they stopped to kiss as they made their way out of the airport, and Mel wondered how she had ever survived without him. “You look wonderful, Mel.” She had a deep tan which set off her green eyes and copper hair and she had worn a white silk dress with a flower in her hair and white high-heeled sandals. She looked summery and healthy and happy, and her eyes seemed to drink his as though she had waited for him for a lifetime.

“You know, I haven't been to New York in years.” He looked at the ugly scenery passing by as they drove into town, and shook his head. “I always turn them down, but I figured this time …” He shrugged and leaned over to kiss her again. She hadn't expected him to be as bold, or herself to be as comfortable with it. But the endless conversations on the phone seemed to have given them an ease with each other they might otherwise not have had. They had only known each other for two months now, but it felt like two years, or twice that.

“I'm glad you didn't turn them down this time.” She smiled at him and then returned her gaze to the road. “Are you hungry?”

“Not very.” For him it was only quarter to seven, but it was shortly before ten in New York.

“I've got food at the house, but we can go somewhere for a bite to eat, if you like.”

“Whatever makes you happy.” He couldn't take his eyes off her. All else slipped his mind as he reached for her hand. “I'm so happy to see you, Mel.” It almost seemed unreal that they should be together again.

“It's a little like a dream, isn't it?” She smiled as she asked.

“It is. Best dream I've had in years.” They fell silent again as they drove into town.

He smiled at her, and touched her neck with his hand. “I figured I owed you at least one trip east, after all you've been to L.A. twice.” But still he had needed an excuse, a reason to come. He hadn't just gotten on a plane and come to see her. But it was easier for both of them this way, they could advance toward each other as they had been, by inches. “The President's certainly made a remarkable recovery.”

“It's only been five weeks and he's on his feet and in the office a few hours a day.” Mel shook her head, still amazed at all that, and then she remembered something. “How's Marie, by the way?”

“Fair.” A frown crossed his face, but he shook off the worry. “I left two other men in charge while I'm gone. She's all right, but she had a terrible time with the steroids. Her face is bloated like a full moon now, and there isn't a damn thing we can do. We've juggled everything we could. And she never complains.” He looked unhappily at Mel.” I wish it weren't so difficult for her.” For an instant, Mel tried to focus on Marie in her mind, but all she could really think of now was him. Everything else in their lives seemed unreal to both of them. Children, patients, war, TV shows. All that mattered was Peter and Mel.

The cab drove down the FDR Drive and turned off at Ninety-sixth Street, and Peter watched the city streets drifting past them, curious about where she lived, about what her house would be like, about everything about her. In some ways, he knew so much, of what she felt and thought, and in other ways, he knew so little, mostly about her environment.

They got out at the house, and she smiled to herself remembering the first time she had seen the house in Bel-Air, and been struck by its air of formality. She knew that he would find her house very different and she was right. He was enchanted as he stepped inside, and smelled the flowers she had bought, looked around at the bright colors everywhere, and out into the pretty little garden. He turned to her then with a delighted smile. “This house is so you. I knew it would look like this.” He put his arms around her waist and she smiled.

“Do you like it?” But it was obvious that he did, before he nodded.

“I love it.”

“Come on, I'll show you the rest.” She took his hand and led him upstairs, standing in the doorway of her own room, and den, and then taking him up to the girls' rooms, where she had prepared everything for him. Fresh flowers on the desk and near his bed, a silver thermos filled with ice water, stacks of thick towels next to the tub, and the lights were on invitingly as they came up the stairs. She had put him in Jessica's room, because Jessie was neater, and it was easier to make him comfortable there.

“This is absolutely lovely.” He sat down at the desk and looked around with delight, and then at Mel again. “You have such a loving touch.” She thought the same of him, although it wasn't as apparent in his home, which still bore the chill trace of Anne, but as he reached out to her now there was such a gentle look in his eyes. She walked slowly toward him and he took her hand from where he sat. “I'm so happy to see you again, Mel.” And then he pulled her down on his lap and kissed her again, and she was still breathless when they went back downstairs. They sat at the kitchen table and talked for hours, as they had for weeks now on the phone, and it was almost two o'clock when they finally went back up and said good night outside Mel's room with another endless kiss, and then with a smile and a wave he disappeared up the stairs to her daughter's room. And Mel went into her own room, as she thought of every word he had said to her that night, and before, and she realized again how happy she was with him. He just put himself out there and held out a hand to her. As she brushed her teeth and took off her dress, she couldn't stop thinking of him and she slid into her bed, glad that he had stayed at the house. Apparently, they could handle it with ease, and she liked hearing him walking around upstairs. With the time difference he wasn't tired yet, and the odd thing was that neither was she. All she could do was lie there and think of him, and it seemed hours later when she heard him padding softly down the stairs and past her room. She listened and heard the kitchen door close, and with a grin she got out of bed and followed him down. He was sitting at the kitchen table eating a ham and cheese sandwich and drinking a beer.

“I told you we should eat!” She smiled and got a 7-Up for herself.

“What are you doing up, Mel?”

“I can't sleep. Just excited I guess.” She sat across from him and he smiled.

“Me too. I could sit here and talk to you all night, but then I'U fall asleep tomorrow when I speak.”

“Do you have a prepared speech?”

“More or less.” He explained to her what it was about. And he was using slides of several surgeries, including Marie's. “What about you? What are you doing this week?”

“Absolutely nothing. I don't have to work for two months, so I'll just hang around and play while you're here. Can I come hear you speak?”

“Not tomorrow. But on Friday you can. Would you like to come?”

“Of course.” He looked surprised and she laughed. “Remember me? I'm the lady who did the interview on you at Center City.”

He clapped a hand to his head with a look of surprise. “So that's who you are! I knew we'd met before but I couldn't remember where.”

“Dummy.” She nibbled his ear and he swatted her behind. It was so comfortable sitting there together in the middle of the night, and at last they walked up the stairs again side by side, holding hands, as though they had lived together for years, and when she stopped outside her room, he bent to kiss her again.

“Good night, little friend.”

“Good night, my love.” The words just slipped out, and she looked up at him, her eyes wide, and with that he gently enfolded her in his arms again, and she felt so safe there.

“Good night.” He whispered the word, kissed her lips once more, and disappeared upstairs, as she went into her room, turned off the light, and climbed into bed, thinking of him again and what she had just said. And the amazing thing was that she knew it was true. And as he lay in bed upstairs, he knew he loved her too.