“What makes you so sure of that? And how do any of us know what's really important? How do I know my kids won't hate me ten years from now for something I did, or didn't do, or failed to see or understand? I think I'm right so much of the time, and once in a while, I wonder if I'm headed in the right direction. Sometimes I think I've got it all ass backwards. In fifty years who is really going to give a damn about Dow Tech, and everything I think is so goddamn important? Maybe all that really matters are the people you care about,” he hesitated and then finished his thought, which was what had upset him in the first place. “Or the lack of them. I've been so busy being pissed off at Charlotte for the last eight years, that there's never been room enough in my life for anyone else. All I had room for was my anger. All I cared about was how much she'd hurt me.” It was the first time he had ever said that to her, or anyone, in just that way. “You know, for a long time I thought I hated her. Now I feel like I wasted all that time on feelings that got me nowhere. And now what?”

“What do you mean, ‘now what’?” She was startled by what he was saying to her. They were serious thoughts to have while lying on a beach in Kona, getting a tan.

“Now what? I'm fifty-one years old. I've been pissed off at someone who's been gone for the last eight years. I've got three great kids who'll be grown up any minute. And my whole life is my business.”

“It sounds like you're eating nails to me, Callan Dow.” She was always honest and outspoken with him. “You're feeling sorry for yourself. You're fifty-one, not ninety. You've got a lot of time to do things differently, if you want to. No one says you have to stay alone for the rest of your life, if that's what's bothering you, and you don't have to stay pissed at Charlotte.”

“I don't think I am anymore actually. Maybe that's the problem. Other than what I feel for my kids, hating her has been the main emotion in my life for nearly ten years. Without that, what have I got? Maybe not enough, Merrie.”

“Maybe it's time to look in a new direction,” she said simply. She had a way of cutting through complicated emotions and situations and getting right to the core of the issue. It was one of the things he liked about her in business. But there were a lot of things he liked about her. Too many. In some ways.

“What are you suggesting? Where am I supposed to look? To my kids to be my whole life until they leave and get their own lives? To some unimportant woman I don't care about who I can take to dinner half a dozen times before I figure out that she bores me, or someone else who is excited about what I have instead of who I am? Merrie, there's not much out there.”

“That's bullshit,” she said, stretching her long legs across the sand toward the water, and letting her toes play in the wet sand as he watched her. “Not everyone is boring, and not everyone is after your money.”

“Don't bet on it. What about you?” he asked, looking unhappy. ‘‘ What are you going to do if it falls apart with Steve? Have you ever thought about that?”

“I try not to.” But the truth was, she had lately. Living on separate coasts had put a tremendous strain on them, and at times now, she was frightened. She felt as though they were being pulled apart by fate, destiny, and a force greater than they were. She had never felt that before, and it was a terrifying feeling. “I don't know what I'd do,” she said honestly. “Steve has been my life for so long, I'd be lost without him. He's good for me, and I love him. My life would be a huge dark hole without him.” And she felt that way now, as though she would fall into an abyss of misery and terror if she lost him. She hated to even think about it. But she knew that if things didn't get better, and one of them didn't make a move soon, it could happen. She was just beginning to face that. After nearly four months of living apart, they seemed to be heading in different directions, and they had to do something about it soon.

“What would you do if you two got divorced?” She hated even hearing the question, much less thinking about it.

“Kill myself,” she said too quickly to mean it, and then pondered the question. “I don't know. Pick up the pieces and start over, I guess. But it would take me a long time to do it. Just as it's taken you a long time, Cal. That's not surprising. You had a lot invested in that marriage, three kids, seven years, you obviously believed in her and trusted her, and she betrayed you. I think it must take a long time to recover from something like that, if you ever do completely.”

“It has taken me a long time,” he admitted quietly, lying on the warm sand next to her, and admiring the way she looked as she lay there. She was completely unaware of her effect on him, for which he was grateful. It was simpler that way. He wasn't about to make the same mistake he had at Christmas. “Maybe too long,” he said. “I'm beginning to feel like I've wasted the last eight years. I just wanted to show everyone how hard and cynical I was, so they wouldn't know I was hurting. But I was. Too much, for too long,” but he looked better as he said it.

“And now?” she pressed him. But he didn't mind. He was always open with her.

“I just want to move on and have a life again. Suddenly I miss everything I haven't had for all these years, and I'm sitting here wondering where the hell I've been and what I've been thinking.”

“And you want it now,” she laughed at him. As he was about everything, he was impatient and wanted instant results and immediate solutions.

“Of course,” he beamed at her, feeling better than he had in years. He loved talking to her. Not only was she a brilliant addition to his business, but she was the best friend he'd ever had. He had been standing under a lucky star the day he found her. “Okay, so find me the perfect woman.” He treated her like the friend she was, since he had no other options with her. For all their theoretical talk about what would happen if things didn't work out with Steve, he knew she was still very much in love with him, and deeply devoted to their marriage. The only man she wanted was Steve, and Cal as her best friend.

“Was pimping for you part of my job description?” she asked, looking amused.

“Of course. It was in the fine print.”

“Great. And where am I supposed to find her?”

“Damned if I know,” he said with a boyish grin. “I sure haven't. I don't think there are too many perfect ones out there. Lots of damaged goods, and boring stupid ones, as my kids say. The perfect ones seem to be hiding.” He looked at her long and hard as they lay there side by side. “Or they're married.” She understood the compliment and was touched by it, but she said nothing to him.

They lay there quietly for a while, and finally he got up and pulled her to her feet, and they walked back down the beach, hand in hand, like two kids. He felt better after talking to her, and after they found their way back to their chairs, they discovered that some of the others had come down to the beach as well, and were lying near them. But Cal looked like himself again, and the cloud that seemed to have overshadowed him for awhile had been dispelled. They ordered drinks on the beach, and chatted with the others. And after a couple of hours, Meredith and Cal went back upstairs to change.

She took a shower and put on a white silk dress, and some turquoise beads, her hair was clean and shining, and she was wearing high-heeled white sandals when he next saw her. She looked incredible, but he could no longer forget how she had looked on the beach in her bikini. Everything about her was unforgettable, and when she smiled at him on the terrace they shared, he could feel something go weak inside him. And she knew him so well that he was worried that she'd see it. But she gave no sign of it.

“Ready for the onslaught?” he asked her, handing her a glass of white wine. They stood drinking together for a moment, watching a glorious sunset. “It's beautiful here, isn't it?”

“Too much so.” It made her sad seeing something like that without Steve to share it with. There were so many special moments they missed now. And she hadn't been able to reach him since they got there. The nurses had told her when she called that he'd been in surgery on and off since that morning. “I almost wish we didn't have to join the others, and we could just sit here on the terrace and have a quiet dinner tonight.”

“No such luck, my dear,” he laughed. They were going to be sharing dinner with fifty people, all of them hell bent on having a great time, and a noisy one, at the luau. But he shared Meredith's wish that they could have a peaceful evening.

As always, she was gracious with everyone, introduced people to others they hadn't met, kept an eye on what was happening, and seemed to dissipate problems before they occurred. Everyone was unaware of it except Cal, but he was well aware of everything that she did to ensure that the evening was a success for everyone who'd been there.

“You're amazing, you know, Merrie.” He commented on it as they went back to their rooms at midnight. “You're like a magician passing through the crowd, you see everything and wave your magic wand and keep everyone happy. Even me.” She knew he disliked Hawaiian food, he had confessed it to her once when they were planning the trip, and she had seen to it that they served him steak and french fries, and a salad. He had been startled when they set it down in front of him, and knew instantly how it had happened. “Is there anything you don't think of?”

“Hopefully, not much,” she said, pleased that he noticed. It wasn't her job to take care of all the things she did, but she liked doing it, and it was obvious that no one else was going to.