The doctor looked surprised. It was an odd thing to say and he was looking at her strangely. “Not what?”

“Not alive.” You could barely hear the words, and she suddenly realized the pain she must have caused him, and she felt desperately sorry for him. The pain of death was something she had never grown immune to.

“I'm so sorry …” Her voice trailed off as she looked down at the child. How terrible for all of them, especially the little girl. At least Alex was too young to understand. And the father looked so devastated as he spoke to her. “I'm sorry I asked.”

“It's all right. You didn't know.”

“How long has it been?” It couldn't have been too long if Alexander was just two years old. Her heart went out to all of them as her eyes met Bernie's and she felt tears in her own eyes.

“Last July.” It was obviously too painful for him to say much more and she went on, feeling a rock in her heart as she thought of it, and after they were gone it troubled her again. He looked so heartbroken when he spoke of it. Poor man. She thought of him all day, and was surprised to see him in the supermarket later that week. Alexander was sitting in the cart, as he always did, and Bernie had brought Jane along. She was chattering rapidly and Alex was pointing at something and yelling “Gum, Daddy, gum!” at the top of his lungs as Dr. Jones almost ran into them, and she suddenly stopped and smiled. They didn't look nearly as sad as she'd imagined. In fact, they looked very happy.

“Well, hello there, how's our friend?” She glanced at Alex and found a warm welcome in Bernie's eyes when she looked at him.

“He's a lot better. I think the antibiotics helped.”

“He's still taking them, isn't he?” She couldn't remember the length of the course she'd given him, but he should have been.

“Yes, he is. But he's his old self again.” Bernie smiled and he looked normal and harassed and his legs looked nice in hiking shorts. She tried not to notice, but she couldn't help it. He was a good-looking man. And he was noticing the same things about her. She was wearing jeans again, and an oxford shirt and red espadrilles, and her hair was so clean it shone. She was not wearing her doctor coat, and Jane couldn't figure out who she was. Bernie introduced them finally, and Jane held her hand out stingily, as though afraid to open up too far. She watched the woman suspiciously and didn't mention her again until they were back in the car.

“Who was that?”

“The doctor I took Alex to the other night.” He spoke casually, but it was like being five years old and dealing with his mother all over again. In fact it made him laugh it was so similar. They were the same questions Ruth would have asked him.

“Why did you take him to her?” The inflections told him exactly what she thought, and he wondered why she disliked her so much. It never occurred to him that Jane was jealous.

“Doctor Wallaby gave me her number before we came up, in case one of you had an accident or got sick, like Alex the other night. I was very glad to find her actually. And she was very nice about meeting us at the hospital in the middle of the night. In fact, she was already there, seeing someone else, which says a lot for her.” And he remembered that she had gone to Stanford.

Jane barely grunted that time, and didn't say anything more. But when they ran into her again a few weeks after that, Jane ignored her totally, and didn't even say hello. And when they went back to the car, Bernie scolded her.

“You were very rude to her, you know.”

“Well, what's so great about her anyway?”

“What's great is that she's a doctor and you might need her sometime. Besides which, she hasn't done anything to you, for heaven's sake. There's no reason for you not to be polite to her.” He was grateful that Alex liked her at least. He had let out a great squeal when he saw her in the supermarket and immediately said hello. He remembered her that time, and she made a great fuss over him, and had a lollipop in a pocket for him. She told him her name was Doctor Meg. But Jane had refused the lollipop she'd offered her, and Megan seemed to take it all in stride and not notice.

“Just don't be rude to her, sweetheart.” She was so damn sensitive these days. He wondered if she was growing up, or if she still missed Liz as much. Nanny said it was probably a little of both, and he suspected she was right as usual. Nanny Pippin was the mainstay of their lives, and Bernie was devoted to her.

He didn't run into Megan again until a party he got talked into going to on Labor Day. He hadn't been to any parties in almost three years, not since Liz had gotten sick, and certainly not since she died. But the realtor who had gotten the house for him made such a point of including him in a barbecue they were giving that night that he felt rude not going at least for a little while. And he went feeling like the new kid in town, knowing absolutely not a soul, and feeling overdressed the instant he got out of the car. Everyone had worn T-shirts and jeans and cut-offs and halter tops, and he was wearing white slacks and a pale blue shirt. He looked more like Capri or Beverly Hills than the Napa Valley and it embarrassed him as his host handed him a beer and asked him where he was going afterwards.

Bernie just laughed and shrugged with a smile. “I guess I've just worked for a department store for too long.” His friend took him aside then and asked if he would be interested in keeping the house for a while. The people who were renting to him were going to stay in Bordeaux for longer than they'd planned, and they were anxious to have him stay on there. “Actually, I might like that, Frank.” The realtor was pleased with the news and suggested he keep it on a month-to-month basis, assuring him that the valley was even more beautiful in the fall, with all the leaves changing colors.

“The winters aren't even bad either. It might be nice for you to come up whenever you have a chance, and the rent is reasonable enough.” He was ever the salesman, and Bernie smiled, anxious to leave the party.

“I think that would suit us just fine.”

“Did Frank just sell you a winery?” a familiar voice asked. Her laugh had a tinkling sound, like silver bells, and Bernie turned and saw the shining black hair and the blue eyes that had startled him wherever they met. It was Megan Jones and she looked very pretty. He realized now how tan she was. Her skin was dark, in sharp contrast to her light blue eyes. And she had worn a white peasant skirt and white es-padrilles with a bright red gypsy blouse. Suddenly she looked very beautiful and it made him uncomfortable. It was easier thinking of her in blue jeans and her starched white coat. This was much too accessible, and the silky smooth shoulders caught his eye, as he forced himself to look straight into her blue eyes. But that was no easier for him. Her eyes always made him think of Liz, and yet they were different. Bolder, older, wiser. She was a different kind of woman. And there was a compassion there which made her seem older than her years, and was useful in her profession. He tried to pull his eyes from her now, but was surprised to find that he couldn't.

“Frank just extended my lease for a while.” He spoke quietly, and she noticed that no matter how much his mouth smiled, his eyes didn't. They were quiet and sad, and told people to keep their distance. His grief was still too fresh to be shared and she easily sensed that as she watched him, thinking of his children.

“Does that mean you're going to be staying up here?” She looked interested as she sipped at a glass of local white wine.

“Just on weekends, I guess. The kids love it here. And Frank says it's beautiful in the fall.”

“It is. That's why I got stuck up here. It's the only place around here that gets some kind of autumn. The leaves turn just like they do back east, the whole valley turns red and yellow and it's really wonderful.” He tried to concentrate on what she said, but all he saw were her bare shoulders and her blue eyes, and she seemed to be looking deep into his eyes, as though she wanted to say more to him. It made him curious about her. He had been since he first met her.

“What made you stay out here?”

She shrugged, and her perfect bronze flesh beckoned him as he reached for another beer and frowned, trying to deny the attraction he felt toward her. “I don't know. I couldn't imagine going back to Boston and being serious for the rest of my life.” The mischief he had suspected danced in her eyes and he listened to the sound of her laughter.

“I suppose Boston can be that way. Very much so, in fact.” He looked terribly handsome as he chatted with her and she decided to risk asking him something about himself, despite what she already knew about him.

“And why are you in San Francisco and not New York?”

“A quirk of fate. The store I work for sent me out here to open their new branch out here.” He smiled thinking about it, and then his eyes clouded as he thought of why he'd stayed after that …because Liz was dying. “And then I got stuck here.” Their eyes met and held, and she understood him perfectly.

“Are you here to stay then?”

He shook his head and smiled at her again. “I don't think I'll be here for too much longer. Sometime in the next year I'll probably be going back to New York.” She looked instantly sorry, and in spite of himself it pleased him. And he was suddenly glad he had come to the party.

“How do the kids feel about moving back?”

“I don't know.” He looked serious. “It might be hard on Jane. She's always lived out here, and it'll be hard on her going to a new school and making new friends.”

“She'll adjust to it.” Megan was looking at him searchingly, wishing she knew more. He was a man who made you want to know where he had come from, and where he was heading to. He was the kind of man one seldom met, warm and strong and real, but untouchable. And after seeing him in her office the last time, she knew why. She would have liked to draw him out, to really talk to him, but she wasn't sure how. “What store brought you out, by the way?”