“This is going to be a terrible shock to the board.”

“I'm sorry, Paul. I didn't mean to embarrass you, or put you in an awkward position.” And then he smiled. “Looks like you can't retire yet then. You're too young to do a foolish thing like that anyway.”

“My body doesn't agree with you, especially this morning.”

“I'm sorry, Paul.” And he was, but he was also very happy. He sat in peaceful silence in his office for a long time after the call. His replacement was coming in two weeks. After years with Wolffs, he was going to be free in two weeks …free to start a store of his own …but there were other things he had to do first. And he left the store in a hurry at lunchtime.

The house was deathly quiet as he turned the key in the lock, and the silence which greeted him was as painful as it had been ever since she died. He still expected to find her there, to see her pretty smiling face as she emerged from the kitchen, tossing her long blond hair over her shoulder and wiping her hands on her apron. But there was no one. Nothing. There hadn't been in two years. It was all over, along with the dreams that had gone with it. It was time for new dreams, a new life, and with his heart in his mouth, he dragged the boxes into the front hall, and then into their bedroom. He sat down on their bed for a moment, and then stood up quickly. He had to do it before he started to remember her again, before he inhaled the perfume of the distant past too deeply.

He didn't even take the clothes off the hangers, he just lifted them off the racks in bunches, like the boys in their stockrooms, and dumped them into the boxes along with armloads of shoes and sweaters and handbags. He kept only the beautiful opera gown and her wedding dress, thinking that one day Jane would like to have them. But an hour later, everything else stood in the front hall in six enormous boxes. It took him another half hour to get them all down to his car and stowed inside, and then he walked back into the house for a last time. He was going to sell the house, but without Liz, there was nothing in it he cared about now anyway. It held no charm for him. She had been the charm of their entire existence.

He gently closed the closet door. There was nothing in it now except the two dresses he had saved in their plastic cases from Wolffs. The rest was empty. She needed no clothes now. She rested in a peaceful place in his heart, where he could always find her. And with a last look around the silent house, he walked quietly to the door, and then outside into the sunshine.

It was a short drive to the thrift shop he knew she had used before for Jane's cast-off clothes. She always felt that nothing should go to waste, and someone could use the things they no longer needed. The woman at the desk was pleasant and chatty and she insisted on giving Bernie a receipt for his “generous donation,” but he didn't want it. He only smiled sadly at her and walked out the door, back to the car, and went quietly back to the office.

And the store looked different to him now as he rode up the escalator to the fifth floor. Somehow Wolffs wasn't his now. It belonged to someone else. To Paul Berman and a board in New York. And he knew it would be painful to leave, but he was ready.





Chapter 45

Bernie left the store early that afternoon. There were a number of things he had to do. And he felt exhilarated as he stopped on his errand, and then headed for the Golden Gate Bridge. He had made an appointment with the real estate broker for six o'clock, and he had to drive like crazy to make it. He was twenty minutes late when he arrived, thanks to traffic in San Rafael, but the woman was still waiting for him. And so was the house Megan had shown him months before. The price had even dropped, and it had cleared probate in the meantime.

“Will you be living here with your family?” the woman inquired as she filled out the preliminary papers. Bernie had written her a check as a deposit, and was anxious to get to work to raise the rest of the money.

“Not exactly.” He had to get permission to use the house commercially and he was not yet ready to explain anything to this woman.

“It'll make a wonderful rental property with a little work.”

“I think so too.” He smiled. Their business was concluded at seven o'clock. And he went to a pay phone and dialed Megan's exchange, hoping she was on duty and not Patrick.

When a voice answered a moment later, he asked for Doctor Jones, and the officious voice at the other end informed him that she was in the emergency room but they could page her, if he would give them his name, his child's name and age, and the problem. He claimed to be a Mr. Smith with a little boy called George, who was nine years old and had a broken arm.

“Couldn't I just meet her at the emergency room? He's in a lot of pain.” He felt rotten using a ruse like that, but it was for a good cause, and the operator agreed to warn Dr. Jones that they were coming. “Thank you.” He hid the smile in his voice and hurried back to his car to drive to the hospital to meet her. And he saw her standing at the desk with her back to him as he walked in, and his whole body smiled at the sight of her. The bright shiny dark hair and the tall, graceful body were just exactly what he had longed to see all day. He walked up behind her and gently patted her behind as she jumped and then grinned, attempting unsuccessfully to look reproachful.

“Hi there. I was just waiting for a patient.”

“I'll bet I can guess who.”

“No, you can't. He's a new patient. I haven't even met him myself.”

Bernie leaned toward her and whispered in her ear. “Mr. Smith?”

“Yes …I …how did …” And then she blushed. “Bernie! Were you playing tricks on me?” She looked stunned but not really angry. It was the first time he had ever done that.

“You mean little George and the broken arm?”

“Bernie!” She wagged a finger at him, and he pulled her gently into an examining room, while she scolded him.

“That's a terrible thing to do. Remember the boy who cried wolf.”

“That was Wolffs and I don't work there anymore.”

“What?” She looked truly stunned and stared at him in amazement. “What?”

“I quit today.” He looked delighted as he grinned at her, looking far more boyish than the imaginary George ever could have.

“Why? Did something happen?”

“Yes.” He laughed. “Paul Berman offered me his job. He wanted to retire.”

“Are you serious? Why didn't you take it? That's what you've worked for all your life.”

“That's what he said.” He was fishing for something in his pocket and he looked extremely happy as she continued to stare at him in amazement.

“But why? Why didn't you …”

He looked her straight in the eye. “I told him I was opening my own store. In the Napa Valley.”

If it was possible, she looked even more stunned as he beamed proudly at her. “Are you serious or crazy, Bernie Fine?”

“Both. But more about that later. First, there's something I want to show you.” And he still had to tell her about the house he had just bought, to house their store. But there was something else he wanted to show her first. He had picked it out with enormous care and thought after he left the office. He handed her a small gift-wrapped box, which she eyed with more than a little suspicion.

“What's that?”

“A very, very small black widow spider. Be careful when you open the box.” He was laughing like a boy and her hands trembled as she fought with the wrapping and then found herself holding a black velvet box from a well-known international jeweler.

“Bernie, what is this?”

He stood very close to her and gently touched her silky black hair and spoke so softly that only she could have heard him. “This, my love, is the beginning of a lifetime.” He snapped the box open for her and she gasped as she saw the handsome emerald ring surrounded by small diamond baguettes. It was a beautiful ring, a beautiful stone, and the emerald had seemed just right for her. He hadn't wanted to get her a ring like the one he'd bought Liz. This was a whole new life. And now he was ready for it. And when he looked at her, there were tears sliding slowly down her cheeks, and she cried as he put it on and then kissed her. “I love you. Will you marry me, Meg?”

“Why are you doing all this? Quitting your job …proposing …deciding to open a store …you can't make decisions like that in one afternoon. That's crazy.”

“I've been making them for months, and you know it. I just took a long time before I did anything about it, and now it's time.”

She looked up into his eyes with joy and a little fear. He was a man well worth waiting for, but it hadn't been simple. “What about Jane?”

“What about her?” Bernie looked startled.

“Don't you think we should ask her first?”

He looked suddenly frightened but Megan insisted.

“She has to adjust to what we want.”

“I think we have to tell her before it's a fait accompli,” and after a ten-minute discussion, Bernie agreed to go upstairs and discuss it with her, but he was afraid that she wasn't ready.

“Hi.” He smiled at her nervously and she sensed something strange about him instantly as they walked into the room, and she could still see the tears on Megan's eyelashes.

“Something wrong?” She looked worried but Megan was quick to shake her head.

“Nope. We want your advice about something.” She was concealing her left hand in the pocket of her white coat, so Jane didn't see the ring first.

“Like what?” Jane looked intrigued and as though she suddenly felt very important. And she was. To both of them.

Megan looked at Bernie and he moved closer to Jane and reached for her hand as he stood next to the bed. “Megan and I want to get married, sweetheart, and we want to know how you feel about it.” There was a long, pregnant silence in the room as Bernie held his breath and Jane looked at both of them and then smiled slowly as she lay back against her pillows.