“What are you wishing for, little love?” He had never loved her more than he did right then.

“You'll see.” She smiled up at him.

“Will I? How?” But he thought he knew. He wanted the same thing, and they were trying. “Will your wish make you big and fat?” He loved the thought of her that way, carrying his child, but they hadn't been trying for very long, and she smiled at him.

“If I tell you what I wished, it won't come true.” She wagged a finger at him, and they went back to the Excelsior and made love again. It was a lovely thought, thinking of a baby conceived on this second honeymoon of theirs. But when they got to London for the last two days of the trip, it was obvious that that was not the case and she was so disappointed she cried when she told him the news.

“Never mind.” He put an arm around her and held her close. “We'll try again.” They did an hour later, knowing it would do them no good, in terms of conceiving a child, but they had fun anyway. And it was obvious how happy they were, when they flew back to New York, after the best two weeks they'd ever shared. And it was obvious they weren't the only ones who'd had a good time. It took Jane two hours to tell them everything she'd done while they were gone. And it looked as though Grandma Ruth had bought out Schwarz for her.

“It's going to take a truck to take all this stuff home.” Bernie stared at the dolls, the toys, a life-sized dog, a tiny horse, a doll house, and a miniature stove. Ruth looked faintly embarrassed and then stuck out her chin.

“She had nothing to play with here. All I have are your old trucks and cars,” she said almost accusingly. And she'd loved buying all the new toys.

“Oh.” Bernie grinned, and handed his mother the box from Bulgari. He had bought her a beautiful pair of earrings made from old gold coins, surrounded by tiny diamonds in a hexagonal shape. He had bought similar ones for Liz and she was crazy about them. And so was Ruth. She clipped them on instantly and hugged them both, and then ran to show Lou, as Liz held Jane close to her. She had missed her terribly, but the trip to Europe had been so wonderful. And it had done them good to be alone together.

The days they spent together in New York were almost as good. Dinners at Cote Basque and “21” and Grenouille, his three favorite restaurants, and he shared their specialties with her. They had drinks at the Oak Room in the Plaza Hotel, and the Sherry Netherland, went to listen to Bobby Short play at the Carlyle at night and she fell in love with him. She shopped at Bergdorfs, Saks, Bendel's and the legendary Bloomingdale's, but she insisted she still preferred Wolffs, and Bernie took her everywhere with him. She stood giggling with him one day at the bar at P. J. Clark's, watching all the characters come in.

“I'm having such a good time with you. Do you know that? You make my life so much fun, Bernie. I never knew it could be like this. I was so busy just surviving before, it seems incredible. It was all so small and intense, and now everything is so lavish. It's like a giant painting …like the Chagall murals at Lincoln Center.” He had taken her there too. “It's all reds and greens and sunny yellows and bright blues now …and before it was all kind of gray and white.” She looked up at him adoringly and he bent to kiss her again, tasting the Pimm's cup on her lips.

“I love you, Liz.”

“I love you too.” She whispered and then hiccuped so loudly the man in front of them turned around to look at her and she looked at Bernie again. “What did you say your name was?”

“George. George Murphy. I'm married and I have seven children in the Bronx. Want to go to a hotel with me?”

The man next to them at the bar stared in fascination. The place was full of men looking for a quick lay, but most of them didn't talk about their wives and kids.

“Why don't we go home and make another one?” She suggested brightly.

“Great idea.”

He hailed a cab on Third Avenue that took them to Scarsdale by the quickest route, and they got home before his mother came home with Jane. His father was still at the hospital. It was nice being home alone with her. It was nice being anywhere with her, especially in bed, he decided as they slipped between cool sheets. He hated to get up again when his mother and Jane got home. And he hated even more leaving New York and going back to California again. But he had spoken to Paul about it again, to no avail.

“Come on, Paul. I've been there a year. Fourteen months in fact.”

“But the store's only been open for ten. And what's your hurry now? You have a lovely wife, a nice house, San Francisco is a good place for Jane.”

“We want to put her in school here.” But they wouldn't take her application, they'd discovered, unless it was definite that they were coming back. “We can't just hang in limbo out there for years.”

“Not years …but let's say just one more. There's just no one else as competent for the job.”

“All right.” He sighed. “But then, that's it. Is that a deal?”

“All right, all right …you'd think we'd left you in Armpit, West Virginia, for chrissake. San Francisco is hardly a hardship post.”

“I know. But this is where I belong, and you know it too.”

“I can't deny that, Bernard. But we need you out there right now too. We'll do our best to bring you back in a year.”

“I'm counting on it.”

He hated leaving New York when they did, but he admitted that getting back to San Francisco wasn't so terrible. Their little house was nicer than he remembered it, and the store looked good to him on his first day back. Not as good as the New York store did, but good just the same. The only thing he hated about being back was not being with Liz all day long, and he turned up in the cafeteria at her school at lunchtime their first day back to share a sandwich with her. He looked very citified and grown-up and elegant in a dark gray English suit, and she was wearing a plaid skirt and a red sweater they had bought together at Trois Quartiers, with shoes she'd bought in Italy, and she looked very pretty and young to him, and Jane was very proud to see him there.

“That's my daddy over there, with my mom.” She pointed him out to several friends and then went to stand next to him, to show that he belonged to her.

“Hi there, short stuff,” he said, tossing her up in the air, and then doing the same to three of her friends. He was a big hit in the cafeteria, and Tracy came over to say hello to him. She gave him a big hug and announced that her daughter was pregnant again. And he saw the hungry look in Liz' eyes and squeezed her hand. She was beginning to worry that something was wrong with her, and he had suggested that maybe it was he, since she had had a child before. And they had finally both decided to relax about it for a while, and they were trying to, but it still came to mind a lot. They both desperately wanted a baby.

And in June he had a surprise for her. He had rented a house in Stinson Beach for two months, and she was thrilled. It was the perfect place for them. A bedroom for them, one for Jane, a guest room for friends, a huge spacious living room with a dining area, a sunny kitchen, and a sheltered deck where they could even sunbathe nude if they wanted to, not that they would have if Jane were at home. It was perfect for them, and Liz couldn't have been happier. They decided to move there for the two months, and he would commute every day. But they had scarcely been there for two weeks, when Liz came down with the flu, and it took her weeks to get over it. He mentioned it to his father when he called, and Lou thought it was probably her sinuses and she should see someone about starting antibiotics right away. Her head felt heavy all the time and she was nauseous at the end of the day. She was exhausted and depressed and she couldn't remember ever feeling that terrible. It was a little better the second month they were there, but not much, and she hardly enjoyed the place, although Jane was having a ball with all her friends, and she ran on the beach with Bernie every night, but Liz could hardly walk down the street without feeling sick. She didn't even feel up to going into town to try on her dress for the opening of the opera. She had selected a slinky black satin Galanos that year, with one shoulder and a ruffled cape of its own, and she was shocked when she finally tried it on right after Labor Day.

“What size is this?” She was stunned. She was generally a six, but she couldn't even close the dress they had sent her. She looked amazed as the salesgirl glanced at the tag and looked up at her.

“It's an eight, Mrs. Fine.”

“How's it look?” He poked his head in the door and she glared at him.

“Terrible.” She couldn't have gained weight. She'd been sick since July. She'd finally made an appointment to see the doctor the next day. She had to start school in a week and she needed her energy back. She was even ready to take the antibiotics her father-in-law thought she should try. “They must have sent the wrong size. It has to be a four. I just don't understand it.” She had tried the sample on when she ordered it, and it had swum on her. And that had been a six, and this was larger than that was.

“Did you gain weight at the beach?” He came into the fitting room to look. And she was right. The zipper wouldn't come near to closing at her waist and down the side. There were a good three or four inches of her suntanned flesh separating it. He glanced at the fitter standing by quietly. “Can it be let out?” He knew how expensive the dress was and it was a sacrilege to alter it very much. It was better to order it in another size and let that one go, except that now they didn't have time. She'd have to wear something else to the opening if it couldn't be let out. The fitter took a look and shook her head, and then felt Liz' waist and glanced at her questioningly.