“It's quite all right. We can use a little excitement around here. We had a very good time.” He and Jane exchanged a knowing look and Jane suddenly piped up, grinning at him.

“You know, you'd really be a mess if you ate a banana split…see! That's why I don't like beards!” They both laughed and her mother looked horrified.

“Jane!”

“Well he would!”

“She's right,” he admitted happily. He had enjoyed her so much, and hated to see her leave. He smiled and the pretty young woman blushed.

“I really apologize.” And then suddenly she remembered that she hadn't introduced herself. “I'm sorry, I'm Elizabeth O'Reilly.”

“And you're Catholic.” He was remembering Jane's remark and her mother looked stunned, and then he attempted to explain. “I'm sorry …Jane and I had a very serious conversation about that.”

Jane nodded sagely and popped another maraschino cherry into her mouth as she watched them talk. “And he's something else …” She squinted as she looked up at him again. “What was it again?”

“Jewish,” he supplied, as Elizabeth O'Reilly grinned. She was used to Jane, but there were times …

“And he has eight Christmases …” She looked enormously impressed and the two adults laughed. “Honest, he does. That's what he said. Right?” She looked to Bernie for confirmation and he grinned and nodded at her.

“Chanukah. Actually, she even makes it sound good to me.” He hadn't been in temple in years. His parents were Reformed and he didn't practice at all. But he was thinking of someone else. He was wondering just how Catholic Mrs. O'Reilly was, if there was a Mr. O'Reilly around, or not. He hadn't thought to ask Jane, and she hadn't mentioned it.

“I can't thank you enough.” Elizabeth pretended to glare at Jane, who looked much happier now. She wasn't clutching her doll quite as hard, and she seemed to be enjoying the last of the ice cream.

“They have good bathing suits too.”

Elizabeth shook her head and held out her hand to Bernie again. “Thank you again for rescuing her. Come on, old girl, let's go home. We have some other things to do.”

“Can't we just look at the bathing suits before we go?”

“No.” Her mother was firm, and she thanked Bernie profusely as they left. Jane shook his hand and thanked him very formally and then looked up at him with a sunny smile.

“You were nice, and the ice cream was very good. Thank you very much.” She had obviously had a lovely time, and Bernie was actually sorry to see her go. He stood at the top of the escalator, watching the hair ribbons disappear, and feeling as though he had lost his only friend in California.

He went back to the cash register to thank the employees for their help, and as he left again, the little bikinis caught his eye, and he pulled out three in a size six. The orange, the pink, and the blue—the red one was sold out in her size— and he even picked out two hats to match and a little terry beach robe for her. It all looked perfect for her and he dumped it at the cash register.

“Have we got an Elizabeth O'Reilly on the computer here? I don't know if she's a charge customer or not, or what her husband's name is.” He was suddenly hoping that she didn't have one, and the verdict was good when they checked. Two minutes later they confirmed that she had a new account and lived on Vallejo Street in Pacific Heights. “Great.” He jotted down the phone number and address and tried to make it look as though he needed it for his files …instead of his empty little address book…. And he told them to send the stack of beachwear to “Miss Jane …” and charge it to his account. He wrote out a card that said only, “Thank you for a very nice time. Hope to see you again soon. Your friend, Bernie Fine,” and handed that to the woman as well. And then with a lighter step he went back to his office with a mysterious little smile, convinced that there was a blessing in everything.





Chapter 5

The bathing suits arrived on Wednesday afternoon, and Liz called him the next day to thank him for his generosity to her daughter.

“You really shouldn't have. She's still talking about the banana split, and what a good time she had.” Elizabeth O'Reilly had a young voice and he could see her shining blond hair in his mind's eye as he talked to her on the phone.

“I thought she was very brave actually. When she realized she was lost, she was terrified, but she kept her composure the entire time. That's quite something for a five-year-old.”

Elizabeth smiled. “She's a pretty good kid.”

He was dying to say “So's her mom,” but he didn't. “Did the bathing suits fit?”

“Every one of them. She paraded around in them all last night, and she's wearing one under her dress now …she's at the park with some friends. I had a lot to do today …someone lent us a house in Stinson Beach, so Jane has her whole wardrobe set now.” Liz laughed. “Thank you so much She didn't know what else to say, and he was groping for words too. Suddenly it all seemed new to him, as though they spoke a different language here. It was like starting all over again.

“Could I…could I see you again?” He felt like a complete fool as he said the words into the phone …like a heavy breather on an anonymous call, but he was amazed when she said yes.

“I'd like that very much.”

“You would?” He sounded stunned and she laughed.

“Yes, I would. Would you like to come to Stinson Beach for an afternoon?” She sounded so easy and natural that he was grateful to her. She didn't make it sound as though he had his tongue hanging out and was annoying her. It sounded as though she wasn't surprised at all, and would enjoy seeing him.

“I'd love it. How long will you be there?”

“Two weeks.”

He made a rapid calculation in his head. There was no reason why he couldn't take Saturday off for once. There was no rule that said he had to be there. He just had nothing else to do. “How about this Saturday?” It was only two days away and his palms grew damp thinking of it.

She paused, trying to remember who she'd invited when. Stinson Beach always gave her a chance to see all her friends, and invite everyone out for a day. But Saturday was still free. “That sounds fine …great, in fact …” She smiled, thinking of him. He was a nice-looking man, and he had been nice to Jane, and he didn't appear to be gay, and he didn't wear a wedding band…. “By the way, you're not married, are you?” It never hurt to ask. It would have been a bit of a shock to find out afterwards. But it had happened before. Not this time though.

“Good God no! What a thought!”

Aha. One of those. “Allergic to marriage, are you?”

“No. I just work very hard.”

“What does that have to do with it?” She was open and direct and suddenly curious about him. She had her own reasons for not getting married again. Once burned, twice smart, but at least she'd tried it once. But then again maybe he had too. “Are you divorced?”

He smiled to himself at his end, wondering why she asked. “No, I'm not divorced. And yes, I like girls. And I have lived with two women in my life, and I'm very comfortable the way things are. I haven't had a lot of time to give to anyone. I've spent the last ten years concentrating on my career.”

“That can be empty sometimes.” She sounded as though she knew and he wondered what she did. “I'm lucky I've got Jane.”

“Yes, you are.” He fell silent as he thought of the little girl, and decided to save the rest of his questions for Stinson Beach when he could see her face and her eyes and her hands. He had never been crazy about getting to know someone over the telephone. “I'll see you both on Saturday then. Anything I can bring? A picnic? Wine? Anything from the store?”

“Sure. A mink coat would be nice.”

He laughed and they hung up and for a whole hour afterwards he felt good. She had that kind of voice, easy and warm, and she didn't seem to have an ax to grind. She wasn't one of those women who hated men, or at least she didn't seem to be, and she didn't seem out to prove anything. He was really looking forward to their afternoon in Stinson Beach, and on Friday night before he went home, he went to their gourmet shop and bought two shopping bags of goodies to take to her. A chocolate teddy bear for Jane, and a box of chocolate truffles for Liz, two kinds of Brie, a baguette bread they flew in from France, a tiny tin of caviar, and another of pate, two bottles of wine, one red and one white, and another tin of marrons glaces.

He put the bags in his car and drove home, and the next morning at ten o'clock he showered and shaved and put on blue jeans and an old blue shirt, slipped his feet into a beaten-up pair of sneakers, and grabbed a warm jacket from the closet in the hall. He had brought comfortable old clothes with him from New York for when the construction was going on, and now they were useful for the beach, and just as he picked up the two shopping bags, the phone rang. He wasn't going to answer it and then wondered if it was Elizabeth, changing their plans, or asking him to pick something up on the way, so he picked it up, still juggling his jacket and the bags.

“Yeah?”

“That's no way to answer the phone, Bernard.”

“Hi, Mom. I'm just on my way out.”

“To the store?” The interrogation began.

“No … to the beach. I'm visiting some friends today.”

“Anyone I know?” Which, roughly translated, meant: Would I approve of them?

“I don't think so, Mom. Is everything okay?”

“Fine.”

“Good. Then I'll call you tonight, or tomorrow from the store. I've got to run.”

“Must be someone important if you can't talk to your mother for five minutes. Is it a girl?” No. A woman. And then of course there was Jane.