“Nothing.”

“Yes, there is. Don't you feel well, Daddy?” He turned to face her and she saw that his eyes were brimming with tears and she ran to him and threw her arms around him, frightened.

“I'm sorry, baby. I just missed you so much I went crazy.” He wasn't sure if he was apologizing to her or to Liz, but once the children were in bed, he called Megan anyway, and his desire for her was so overpowering that he wanted to be with her as soon as he could. He felt as though he were going crazy without her.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” She had heard something strange in his voice and she thought she understood it. She knew that going back to the house he had shared with Liz would be painful. Especially now. Especially the way he was. She knew he was feeling guilty.

“I'm fine.” But he didn't sound it.

“It's okay, if you aren't.” She already knew him well and he sighed. It was a relief in some ways, annoying in others. He was embarrassed at the confusion he felt, and the guilt, but it was real and he couldn't help it.

“You sound like my mother.”

“Oh oh.” She smiled and he laughed. But she didn't press him.

“Okay, okay.” He decided to make a clean breast of it, and in the end, it brought them closer. “I feel so damn guilty. I opened the closet and it was as though I still felt her there …” He didn't know what else to say but Megan understood it.

“You still have her clothes there?”

That was embarrassing too in a way. “Yeah. I guess …”

“It's okay. You don't have to apologize, Bernie. That's your life. You have a right to all that.” She was the first person who had said that to him and he loved her all the more for it.

“I love you. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time, and I hope I don't drive you crazy.”

“You do. But not the way you mean.” She blushed faintly. “In a nice way.”

He smiled. He felt lucky again. He hadn't felt lucky in a long, long time. “How are we going to get together this weekend?”

They devised a plan where he would spend the night with her on Friday, and go home early the next morning. And it worked. It worked on Saturday too. And he went up the following Wednesday night too, and told Jane he had to go to Los Angeles on business.

He started telling them that every week, and one week he went for two nights. Only Nanny Pip knew the truth. He wanted her to know where he was, in case something happened to one of the children. He didn't tell her who it was. He just gave her the number and told her only to use it in an emergency. It embarrassed him. But she never said a word. And she never seemed shocked about it. It was as though she thought it was normal. He suspected she knew who it was. She always sent him on his way when he was going up there with a little smile and a pat on the shoulders.

And on the weekends they went to Napa, and Megan dropped by. She taught Jane how to make a nest for a little bird that fell out of a tree near the house, and she helped her set his leg when they discovered it was broken. She took Alex on errands with her and he squealed with delight now whenever he saw her coming. And Jane was slowly relenting.

“How come you like her so much, Daddy?” she questioned him one day as they were putting the dishes in the sink for Nanny.

“Because she's a nice woman. She's intelligent and kind and loving. That's not an easy combination to find.” And he had. Twice. He was a lucky man after all. He would be lucky this time until he had to move back to New York from California. But more and more lately he was questioning that decision.

“Do you love her?”

He held his breath, not sure what to say to her. He wanted to be honest but he didn't want to push her. “Maybe.” Jane looked stunned.

“You do? As much as you loved Mommy?” She looked shocked and suddenly angry.

“No. Not yet. I haven't known her for as long.” Jane nodded. It was serious then. But try as she might, she couldn't go on hating Megan. She was too easy to like, and too kind to the children, and when he had to go to Europe in April, Jane asked if they could stay with her on weekends. It was a major breakthrough, and Bernie almost cried with gratitude and relief when she said it.

“Do you really want them up there?” He had promised Jane he would at least ask her. “I could send Nanny with them.”

“I'd love it.” Her house was tiny, but if she slept on the couch, and she insisted she wanted to, she could give Nanny her room, and the children her study. And they loved it. They went up on weekends after school finished on Friday. And Bernie came back in time for Alexander's third birthday. They celebrated it all together, and afterwards Bernie went out for a long walk with Megan.

“Did something happen in New York?” She looked worried. “You seem quiet.”

“Berman thinks he's getting closer to finding someone to replace me. There's a woman he wants to hire away from another store. And they're haggling over the money. But he usually wins those kinds of battles. What'll I do, Meg?” There was a look of anguish in his eyes that touched her deeply. “I don't want to leave you.” He had missed her desperately while he was in Europe, more than he had ever thought he would.

“We'll face it when we have to.” And they made love that night as though there never would be a tomorrow. And two weeks later, he came out from the city especially to tell her the news. Berman had lost his replacement. She had signed a new contract with her old store for almost twice the money. It was a relief and yet Bernie knew he couldn't keep depending on the fates to save him.

“Hallelujah!” He had brought her champagne and they went out to dinner to celebrate that night at the Auberge du Soleil, and they had a wonderful evening. He was going to drive back to the city at eight o'clock the next morning, but she insisted that there was something she wanted to show him first. She led the way in her Austin Healy It was a perfect little Victorian house, nestled between some vineyards off the highway.

“It's beautiful. Whose is it?” He looked at it casually, as one would someone else's wife, with admiration but no urge for possession, but she was smiling at him, as though she had something up her sleeve now.

“It's an estate. It belonged to old Mrs. Moses and she died while you were in Europe. She was ninety-one years old and the house is in perfect condition.”

“Are you buying it?” He was intrigued and she seemed to know a lot about it.

“No. But I have a better idea.”

“What's that?” He glanced at his watch. He had to get to the store for a meeting.

“How about opening your store now. I didn't want to say anything until you knew if you were leaving or not. But even if you only stay for a few months, Bernie, it could be a fantastic investment.” She was so excited she looked almost girlish, and he looked at her, touched, but he knew he couldn't do it. He had no idea how soon he'd be leaving.

“Oh Meg … I can't.”

“Why not? At least let me introduce you to Phillippa.”

“Baby …” He hated to disappoint her, but she had no idea how much effort went into starting a store. “I don't just need a manager, I'd need an architect, a buyer, a …” He faltered.

“Why? You know all that stuff. And there are a dozen architects up here. Come on, Bernie, at least think about it.” She looked at him and his eyes danced a little, but not enough, and she was disappointed.

“I'll think about it, but I gotta go now. I'll be back on Saturday.” It was two days away. Their whole life was built on the days they spent together.

“Will you have lunch with Phillippa?”

“Okay, okay.” He laughed and pinched her bottom and got in his car, waving as he drove away. And she smiled to herself as she drove to the hospital, hoping it would do the trick. It was something she knew he wanted to do, and there was no reason why he couldn't do it. And she was going to do everything she could to help him. He had a right to his dream, and maybe, with luck … he would stay in California.





Chapter 43

Phillippa Winterturn had one of the funniest names and the prettiest faces Bernie had ever seen. She was a pretty white-haired woman in her early fifties and she had done everything from run a store in Palm Beach, to run a chain of them on Long Island, to work for Women's Wear Daily and Vogue and design clothes for children. She had had her finger in every aspect of the retailing pie for the past thirty years and she had even graduated from Parsons.

And Megan listened to them talk, barely able to suppress a smile. She didn't even care when she had to go back to the office to set a broken wrist for an eight-year-old. When she came back they were still talking. And by the end of lunch, Bernie's eyes were in flames. Phillippa knew exactly what she wanted to do, and she was dying to do it with him. She didn't have the money to make the investment, but Bernie felt sure that he could handle that himself, with a loan from the bank and maybe even a little help from his parents.

The trouble was, it just didn't make sense for him to undertake a project like the one they discussed. He still had to go back to New York sooner or later. But the idea preyed on his mind after his lunch with Phillippa.

He drove past the house Megan had shown him several times. It gnawed at him, but there was no point in his buying property in California except maybe as an investment.

But whenever Paul called now, Bernie sounded distant and distracted. He was suddenly haunted by old ghosts again. Liz seemed to come to mind far too often and it made him testy with Megan.

Bernie spent the entire summer with the San Francisco store, in body anyway. But his heart and his mind and his soul seemed to be somewhere else. In Napa with Megan, and the house he wished he were buying, and the store he wished he were starting. He felt guilty about his mixed emotions, and Megan sensed what was happening to him. She was very calm and quiet and supportive and she asked him no questions about his plans, and he was grateful to her for that. She was a remarkable woman. But he worried about that too now.