Bill looked happy and relaxed, and he bent toward her as though he was about to kiss her when he arrived, and then remembered himself and backed away with a shy glance at her, and a look over his shoulder at the two children. He had rented a Wagoneer, and they were fully equipped for all aspects of their trip. The back was piled high with sleeping bags and equipment and valises.

“Is everybody ready?” he asked, beaming at her, as she smiled at him from the front seat next to him, and then glanced back at the two children.

“We are!” they responded in unison.

“Good! Then let's get this show on the road!” He put the car in drive, and they headed north on the freeway. Adam was wearing earphones and listening to a tape, and Tommy hummed to himself as he played with an assortment of little men and soldiers. And Bill and Adrian chatted easily in the front seat. It was just like being an ordinary family, off on their summer vacation, and as she thought of it, Adrian started to giggle. She had a big blue bow in her hair, and a pale blue sweatshirt on, and a pair of ancient jeans and sneakers, and Bill thought she looked like a kid herself as she sat next to him and laughed. “What's so funny?”

“Nothing. I love this. I feel like I'm playing a part in a sitcom.”

“Better than a part in a soap.” He grinned. “Then you'd have to be married to a man who drinks, with a daughter who had recently run away, and a son who was secretly gay, or you might even be pregnant by someone else, or fighting a fatal disease.” He reeled off the possibilities, and although some of them were more apt than he knew, she was still smiling.

“This is a whole lot better.”

“It sure is.” He put the radio on, and they drove easily to Santa Barbara, and stopped at the San Ysidro Ranch just after ten-thirty. There was an adorable cottage waiting for them, with two bedrooms and two baths, and a cozy living room with a fireplace. It looked like a honeymoon cottage, and Bill put his things in the boys' room, as he had said he would, and gave Adrian the nicer of the two bedrooms.

“Are you sure?” she asked apologetically. She felt guilty taking the prettier room, but he insisted that he was happy sharing with the boys in the other. “I could sleep on the couch.”

“Sure you could. Or on the floor. Why don't we do that in San Francisco?”

She laughed at him and helped the boys put their things away, and a few minutes later, Bill and the two boys went to inquire about hiring horses. She had begged off, saying that she would organize everything. They were staying there for two days. And when they got back, everything looked neat and tidy.

“You're a good organizer,” he said, smiling.

“Thank you. How was your ride?”

“Lovely. You should have come. The horses are so tame, you could ride them with your eyes closed.” Yes, but not with her baby.

“Maybe next time.” He sensed that it was something she didn't want to do, so he didn't force it. They ordered lunch and then lay by the pool. But by midafternoon, the boys were bored and chafing for something to do, so Bill organized a game of tennis. It was a perfect match, they were all equally unskilled and laughed so hard they could hardly play at all. Their conclusion was that Adrian and Tommy won, but only by default, and only because Adam and Bill played even worse than their opponents.

They had dinner in the ranch dining room, and then brought the children back to the cottage to bathe and watch television before Bill put them to bed at nine o'clock and told them he didn't want to hear another word, which, of course, he did until almost eleven. They whispered and played, and Tommy came out in tears when he couldn't find the battered rabbit that he always slept with. Adam had hidden it under the bed, and Bill looked happy and tired when the boys finally fell asleep, and he and Adrian sat in the living room and talked in whispers in front of the fireplace.

“They're so cute,” she said. She really admired the way he handled them, with more kindness than firmness, and a lot of common sense and love and reason.

“Especially when they're asleep,” he agreed. He wanted to tell her she was cute, too, but he didn't dare. One of the children might have woken up and been listening. “Are you sure you won't go bonkers with two weeks of this?”

“Yes, and I'm going to be awfully lonely when I go home again.”

“So will I, when they leave,” he said pensively, “it's just brutal. It's always like a reminder of the bad old days when I first moved out here after Leslie left me. But at least now I get busy with the show and I readjust pretty quickly.” And maybe this year he'd get lucky and get busy with her. He was hoping that would be the case, but he still wasn't sure what Adrian expected. Distance or closeness. He was never quite sure. Friendship, or romance, or both. He was still being extremely cautious so he didn't lose her. She seldom mentioned her husband anymore, but he knew that he was still very much on her mind, just from little things she said. And Adam had had a good point about her wedding band. Just exactly why did she wear it?

“I can't thank you enough for letting me come on this vacation.”

“Don't worry. You'll hate me for it before it's over.” He grinned, but they both knew that wasn't true. The boys were terrific.

“Is there anything special you want me to do? Stuff I can do to help you with them?”

“They'll let you know.”

“I don't know much about kids,” she said wistfully, but she was going to have to learn soon.

“They'll teach you everything you need to know. I think what means the most to them,” he said thoughtfully as he sat back against the couch next to her, “is honesty. That means a lot to kids. Most kids have a lot of respect for straight shooters.”

“So do I.” It was something she had liked about him right since the beginning.

“I like that about you too,” he said calmly, still speaking softly so they wouldn't wake the children. “There are a lot of things I like about you, Adrian.” She was silent for a moment and then she nodded.

“I can't have been much fun in the past few weeks. My life has been kind of up in the air.” That was the understatement of a lifetime.

“You seem to be handling it pretty well, all things considered. It's a bitch when you're not the one who wants a divorce. But sometimes I think those things happen for a reason. Maybe there's something better out there waiting for you … a situation that might make you a lot happier than your marriage to Steven.” It was hard to imagine that, not that they had been so blissfully happy every moment of the day. But she had never questioned what they had. It just seemed right, and as though it was forever. “What did your parents say when he left?” He had already surmised that she wasn't close to them, but he imagined they would be pretty shocked in proper Boston.

She hesitated and then smiled, obviously slightly embarrassed. “I haven't told them.”

“Are you serious?” She nodded. “Why?”

“I didn't want to upset them. And I thought that if he came back, it would just be less awkward not to have told them.”

“That's one way to look at it. Do you think he will come back?” His heart did a flip as he asked the question.

She shook her head, unable to explain all the complicated ins and outs of the situation. Unwilling more than unable. She did not want to tell him that she was pregnant. “No, but there are some complicated little problems that make the whole thing difficult to explain to my parents.” Maybe he was gay, Bill thought. That was a possibility he hadn't even considered. And he didn't want to pry and embarrass her further. That would have explained a lot, and she didn't appear to want to elaborate on the matter.

They chatted on for a while, and eventually they stood up and said good night, as he looked longingly at her, and smiled as she waved and closed the door to her bedroom. She didn't lock the door that night, because she trusted him and knew she didn't need to. And she didn't wake up until the next day when she heard the boys listening to the television in the living room. It was eight o'clock in the morning. And by the time she came out, showered and fresh, in jeans, a pink shirt, and pink sneakers, Bill had already ordered her breakfast.

“Are pancakes and sausages okay?” he asked, glancing over the paper, as she groaned.

“Great. Except I'll be as big as a house before we ever get to Lake Tahoe.” He already knew that she liked to eat, and he admired the fact that it didn't really show, except slightly around her middle.

“You can diet when we get back. I'll join you.” He had sausages and eggs and toast and orange juice and coffee, and Adrian ate everything on her plate, and the boys devoured silver dollar pancakes. They went for another morning ride, and that afternoon they walked all over Santa Barbara. She bought the boys a kite, and they drove out to the beach after that to fly it. And they were all windblown and happy when they went back to the hotel for dinner. And that night the boys fell into bed exhausted, shortly after seven. She had forced them to take a bath, and they had growled at her, but Bill had seconded her suggestion.

“What kind of vacation is this anyway?” Tommy looked outraged as she answered.

“A clean one!” But they had forgiven her by the time they went to bed and she told them a long, long story. It was a story she remembered from when she was a little girl, about a boy who had gone far, far across the ocean and discovered a magic island. Her father had told it to her, and she embellished it for them, and they both fell asleep right after she told it.

“What did you do? Give them sleeping pills? I've never seen them conk out like that,” he said admiringly.