“She's a pediatrician, if that makes any difference.” And of course he knew it did. The jackpot for Megan Jones! He smiled to himself, watching the look on his mother's face.

“A doctor? …Of course …Doctor Jones …Why didn't you tell me that before?”

“You didn't ask.” They were the same old words to the same game. Like a song they'd been singing to each other for years. It was almost a lullaby by now.

“What was her name again?” Now he knew she'd have his father check her out.

“Megan Jones. She went to Harvard undergraduate, med school at Stanford, and did her residency at UC. That way Dad won't have to look her up. His eyes aren't so great these days.”

“Don't be fresh.” She pretended to be annoyed, but in truth she was impressed. She would have liked it better if he had been the doctor and she worked at Wolffs, but what the hell, you couldn't have it all in one life. They all knew that by now. “What does she look like?”

“She has warts and buck teeth.”

And this time his mother laughed. After almost forty years, she finally laughed with him.

“Will I meet her sometime, this beauty with the warts and buck teeth, and the fancy degrees?”

“You might, if she sticks around.”

“Is it serious?” She narrowed her eyes as she asked him again, and he backed off. It was all right to play with her, but he wasn't ready to talk seriously yet. For the moment they were just friends, no matter how often she called, or he called her.

“No.”

She had learned something else over the years. She knew when to back off, and when she saw the look on his face she did. And she didn't say another word when Megan called him again that night to tell him what time she'd be at the Carlyle the next day. She was coming in to go to the wedding with him. He had already brought the dinner jacket home, and it fit him impeccably. His mother had been stunned when she saw him going out the next night. And she was even more impressed when she saw the long black limousine waiting outside for him.

“Is that her car?” Her eyes were wide and she spoke in hushed tones. What kind of a doctor was this? After forty years with a good practice on Park Avenue in New York, Lou still couldn't afford a limousine. Not that she wanted one, but still …

Bernie smiled. “No, Mom, it's mine. I rented it.”

“Oh.” It deflated her a little bit, but not much. She was very proud of him, and she watched from behind the curtain as he got into the car and disappeared. And she sighed to herself as she stepped back into the living room and saw Nanny Pippin watching her. “I just … I wanted to make sure he was all right…. It's icy out tonight.” As though she needed an excuse.

“He's a good man, Mrs. Fine.” Nanny Pippin sounded as though she were proud of him too, and her words touched Ruth's heart.

Ruth Fine glanced around to see if anyone was listening to them, and then advanced cautiously on Nanny Pip. They had established a tenuous friendship over the past year, but Ruth respected her, and Nanny liked her in return. And Ruth figured that Nanny knew everything that went on in his life. “What's the doctor like?” She spoke in a voice so low that Nanny could barely hear, but she smiled.

“She's a good woman. And very intelligent.”

“Is she beautiful?”

“She's a handsome girl.” They'd have made a fine pair, but Nanny didn't want to encourage her too much, there was no reason to think anything serious would happen between them, although she would have liked to see something like that. Megan would have been perfect for him. “She's a good girl, Mrs. Fine. Perhaps something will come of it one day.” But she offered no promises, and Ruth only nodded her head, thinking of her only son riding into town in a rented limousine. What a handsome boy he was …and a good man…. Nanny was right. She wiped away a stray tear as she turned off the living room lights and got ready to go to bed, and wished good things for him.





Chapter 40

The drive into town took longer than usual because of the snow, and he sat in the back seat thinking of her. It seemed forever since he had seen her in Napa. And he was excited to be seeing her again, especially in this setting. It was new and different and exciting. He liked the quiet, simple life she led, working hard at what she did, with love and dedication. And yet there was more to her than that, her family in Boston, the “crazy” brother she described so fondly, and the fancy relatives she spoke of with amusement, like the cousins getting married that night. But more than that, there was what he felt for her. The respect and the admiration and the growing affection. And there was more than that. There was a physical attraction he could barely deny now, no matter how guilty it made him feel. It was still there, growing more powerful day by day. And he was thinking of how lovely she was as the limousine sped up Madison Avenue on the salt-strewn street, and turned east on Seventy-sixth Street.

Bernie got out of the car and went inside the elegant lobby to ask for her. An assistant manager at the front desk, wearing a morning coat and a white carnation, checked the register and nodded to him solemnly.

“Dr. Jones is in four-twelve.”

He took the elevator to the fourth floor, and turned right as they told him to. And he held his breath as he pressed the bell. He suddenly couldn't wait to see her again, and when she opened the door in a navy satin evening gown, she took his breath away with her shining black hair and her blue eyes, and a stunning sapphire necklace with matching earrings. They had been her grandmother's but it wasn't her jewelry which took his breath away, it was her face and her eyes, and he reached out and gave her a warm hug that felt like coming home to both of them. It was incredible how much they had missed each other in such a short time, but they barely had time to say anything before her brother came bounding into the room, singing a filthy song in French, and looking precisely as she had described him. Samuel Jones looked like a very handsome, aristocratic blond jockey. He had gotten all their mother's elegant, delicate looks, and everything about him was tiny, except his mouth and his voice and his sense of humor and according to him his sex drive. He pumped Bernie's hand, warned him never to eat his sister's cooking or let her dance with him, and he poured Bernie a double Scotch on the rocks, as Bernie attempted to catch his breath and say a few words to Megan. But a moment later, her sister-in-law appeared in a flurry of green satin and red hair and giggles and squeals in French and a lot of very large emeralds. Being around them was like being in a whirlwind and it was only when they were alone in the limousine on the way to the church that he could sit back quietly and look at her. Sam and his wife had gone in their own car.

“You look absolutely spectacular, Megan.”

“So do you.” Black tie suited him to perfection. And it was a long way from their jeans and her slicker.

And then he decided to tell her what he'd been feeling. “I've missed you. It was almost disorienting coming back here this time. I keep wanting to be in Napa talking to you, or going for a walk somewhere … or at Olive Oyl's eating a hamburger.”

“Instead of all this grandeur?” she teased as she smiled at him, indicating their elegant garb and the limo.

“I think I prefer the simple life in the Napa Valley.” He smiled, thinking of their life there. “Maybe you were right to leave Boston.” He was almost sorry he was coming back to New York now. It didn't appeal to him as it once had. All he wanted was to go back to California, where the weather was gentle and the people were more polite, and where he knew he would see Meg in her jeans and her starched white doctor's coat. In a funny way, he was homesick.

“I always feel like that here.” She understood perfectly. She could hardly wait to go back in four more days. She was going home to spend New Year's Eve in the Napa Valley, on call for Patrick, who was on call for Christmas, and they both agreed that they needed a third doctor in their practice. But that was a long way away tonight, and Bernie held Megan's hand as they got out at Saint James' Church on Madison and Seventy-first. She had never looked lovelier and he was proud to be with her. There was a regal quality about her, a quiet elegance and strength. She looked like someone one could turn to and he stood beside her at the wedding, proud to be with her. He met her cousins afterwards, and chatted with her brother and his wife for a little while, and was surprised at how much he liked them. He found himself thinking of how different she was from Liz. She had strong family ties and a family she loved deeply, unlike poor Liz, who had been so alone in the world, except for him and Jane and Alexander.

He danced with Meg's sister-in-law, but more importantly, he danced with Meg. He danced with her until two o'clock in the morning, and then they sat at the Bemelmans Bar at the Carlyle till four-thirty, spilling stories, sharing confidences, and making discoveries about each other. It was almost six in the morning when he got back to Scarsdale in the limo. And he met her for lunch the next day. He had been in meetings at the store since nine, and he was exhausted from the night before. But at the same time he felt exhilarated and happy, and she looked pretty in a bright red wool coat when he picked her up and took her to “21” for lunch. They ran into her brother there, pretending to pick his wife up at the bar, and claiming that he was horribly hung over. He still had his hand on his wife's behind when he ordered lunch, and Bernie couldn't help laughing at him. He was boyish and shocking and outrageous, forty-one going on nine, as Megan said, but he was also very handsome. And eventually he and Marie-Ange went upstairs and left Megan and Bernie alone. He had already told Megan that morning over Bloody Marys and steak tartare that he hoped she was lucky enough to catch Bernie. He thought he was terrific and just what she needed: style, brains, and balls, as he described it, but he had forgotten the best part. A heart the size of a mountain. It was that that Megan loved so much about him. And she looked at him over lunch at “21,” and they talked about the Napa Valley. They could both hardly wait to get back there.