But by the time they reached San Francisco, he had relaxed again, and he was feeling better. They went to Fisherman's Wharf, rode the cable cars, visited Ghirardelli Square, and stopped at every possible tourist attraction. It was an exhausting two days, and Adrian looked pale when they finally headed for the Napa Valley.

“You okay?” Bill asked softly the morning they left. He was driving, although she had offered to take a turn at the wheel, but he wanted her to relax and enjoy the drive through Sonoma. There were fields of wild-flowers and vineyards, cows and sheep and horses grazing in fields, and beautiful tall trees that shaded them as the road turned, and they could see the hills in the distance. “You look tired.” He was worried about her. She seemed to tire very easily, and she would grow pale, although she seldom complained about it. But she seemed healthy on the whole, she ate well, and she was always in excellent spirits. After their serious exchange on the second night of the trip, he had forced himself not to get too close to her, or tackle any serious subjects. She knew how he felt about her now, and he easily sensed that she felt the same, but he also knew that something was stopping her, and he wanted to give her plenty of time and space to resolve it. The one thing he was sure of was that he didn't want to lose her.

She was also wonderful with the boys, and they had never been happier with any of his friends. They teased her mercilessly, and Tommy loved to tickle her, and play with her hair and climb all over her just to let her know that he liked her. They were crazy about her, and they looked like a perfectly normal family as they made their way through the Napa Valley. They stayed at a cozy Victorian inn, visited several wineries, and drove slowly north, after a hot, sunny afternoon gliding in Calistoga. She wouldn't go gliding with them, but Bill didn't press the point, nor would she go in the hot-air balloon he rented to show the boys the rest of the Napa Valley at sunrise. She insisted that she hated heights and absolutely refused to do it, and he had a feeling there was more to it than that, but she wouldn't say what and he didn't want to ask her. The boys were disappointed that she wouldn't go, and she tried to make light of it. And then, without thinking any more about it, they headed for Lake Tahoe. She shared the driving with him, but she liked to stop every couple of hours to stretch her legs. She said she got too stiff if she drove for too long without stopping. So they stopped at the Nut Tree on the way up, and again at Placerville, and the boys had a great time riding the train at the Nut Tree.

They reached Lake Tahoe on Friday afternoon, and the mountain air was cool and beautiful, beneath a cameo-blue sky with little puffs of white cloud chasing each other across the mountains. It was perfect.

They easily found the campsite they had reserved, and Bill set up their tents. He had a larger one for him and the boys, and a smaller one he had bought especially for Adrian. He set them up side by side, and Tommy announced he wanted to sleep with her, which was going to be very cozy, but she seemed very flattered. They had all been wonderful to her, and in some ways, she felt as though she didn't deserve it. She was driving herself nuts weighing everything, thinking of what they meant to her, and yet feeling that at some point she would have to pull back. She couldn't get involved with Bill, if she was going to have the baby. And yet, she couldn't seem to stay away from him. All she wanted to do was talk to him night and day, and look at him, and enjoy his company and feel his warmth somewhere near her. She kept finding herself standing next to him, brushing hands with him, wanting to feel his hands on her face again, and his lips on hers. And all she could do was look at him and wish that things were different. She didn't regret the baby inside her, but she found herself regretting that the baby wasn't his, wishing that life had dealt them a different hand, and she had never married Steven.

“What were you thinking about just then?” She had been standing still, staring into the woods, and he had been watching her. She had looked so sad that it worried him, like her occasional pallor.

“Nothing …” She didn't want to tell him. “Just dreaming.”

“Yes, you were thinking about something. You looked so sad.” He touched her hand for an instant and then pulled away. He had to keep reminding himself not to touch her, and it was anything but easy. He wanted to tell her again that he loved her, but he knew he had to wait, until she was ready to hear it.

He went on setting up the tents, and Adam helped him expertly. They did a very fine job, and then Adam and Adrian went to buy groceries while Bill and Tommy “set up camp.” They were having a great time, and Adrian loved it. They bought steaks for Bill to barbecue, and hot dogs and marshmallows, and lots of good things for breakfast. Adrian was beginning to feel as though they were eating night and day, and she was becoming distinctly aware of her expanding waistline. In the week they had been gone, she had outgrown almost everything she had brought with her. It wasn't so much that she had put on weight, but suddenly her shape had changed radically, almost overnight, and their first night there she had to borrow one of Bill's big bulky sweaters. He didn't seem to mind, or to notice the reason for it, for which she was very grateful. She didn't want him to know, and she was still wondering how she was going to cut things off when they got home. It wasn't fair to continue tormenting him, or herself, and she couldn't begin a romance with him while she was pregnant. Maybe afterward, if they just stayed friends. Maybe then, if he knew about the baby, then maybe it would be fair …she thought about it constantly, and he could see that she was deeply troubled.

“You're doing it again,” he whispered as they sat by the campfire that night, after a delicious dinner. The boys had sung songs until they fell asleep, and they were both in Bill's tent, but Tommy swore he was sleeping with Adrian the next night.

“Doing what?” she mused, sitting close to him and staring into the fire with a distant look. It had been a lovely evening.

“Thinking about something much too serious. Every now and then your eyes get sad. I wish you'd tell me what's bothering you.” It upset him that she shut him out at times, yet most of the time they had never been closer.

“Nothing's bothering me.” But she wasn't convincing and he wasn't convinced.

“I wish I believed you.”

“I've never been happier.” She looked him in the eye and he believed her, and yet he knew she was also preoccupied about something. She was worrying about the baby. How she would take care of it. What it would be like being all alone with it …giving birth with no one there to support her. As the baby grew, it became more real to her, and she was beginning to get worried. And she was afraid of losing Bill, and yet she knew she had to. It was inevitable once he knew, if not sooner. And suddenly, as she thought of all that, there were tears in her eyes, and Bill saw it, and without saying a word to her, he pulled her into his arms and held her.

“I'm right here for you, Adrian …I'm right here., for as long as you need me.”

“Why are you so good to me?” she said through her tears. “I don't deserve this.”

“Stop saying that.”

She felt so guilty toward him. It wasn't fair misleading him and not telling him about the baby, and yet she couldn't. What could she tell him? That she was here on a camping trip with him and his children, and she was falling in love with him, and yet she was pregnant with Steven's baby? How could she? And then suddenly she was laughing through her tears at the absurdity of it all. It was a ridiculous situation.

“Where were you a few years ago anyway?” She laughed and he smiled in answer to her question.

“Making a fool of myself as usual. But better late than never.” The trouble was that he was too late.

She nodded, and they sat that way for a long time, holding each other, and looking into the fire, but this time he didn't kiss her. He wanted to, but he didn't want to upset her.

He suggested they go to bed finally, and helped her into her tent, and then got into his sleeping bag in his, and a minute later he heard a noise, and she was standing next to him, looking worried.

“What's wrong? Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she whispered nervously, “I heard a noise over there.” She pointed into the distance outside his tent. “Did you hear it?”

He shook his head, he had already been half asleep when she woke him. “No, it's nothing. Coyotes maybe.”

“Do you think it could be a bear?”

He grinned at her, wanting to tell her it was ten of them and she'd better get in his sleeping bag to stay safe, but he didn't. “I don't think so. And the bears around here are pretty tame,” despite an occasional disaster, but usually then the bears were teased, they seldom if ever attacked unprovoked, and she wasn't provoking anyone but him, standing there in her blue jeans and his sweater. “Do you want to sleep in here with us? It'll be a tight fit, but the boys will love it.” She nodded, looking like a kid, and he smiled at her as she settled down in her own sleeping bag next to him, and she fell asleep, holding tightly to his hand as he lay next to her, and watched her.





THE FOUR OF THEM WOKE UP IN THE TENT TOGETHER the next day, and Tommy immediately took advantage of the situation to pounce on his father. He tickled him mercilessly, and then Adam and Bill turned the tables on Tommy. Adrian had to come to his rescue then, so Bill tickled her, while Adam assisted, and within moments they were a wild tangle of arms and legs and feet and squeals and hands that were tickling anything, anywhere on anyone, until Adrian finally begged them to stop, laughing so hard, she split the zipper on her blue jeans. Fortunately, she knew she had another pair, so she didn't panic. But she was laughing so hard, she could hardly walk, and so were the others as they all stumbled out into the sunshine. It was a nice way to wake up, and it was certainly a lot better than waking up in the empty silence of her now unfurnished apartment.