“Can he afford it?” As Coop's accountant, he had a vested interest in asking her those questions. They didn't want to get someone in who couldn't pay the rent.

“Apparently. The head of private banking at BofA says he's one of their most solid clients. He sent me a fax to that effect about ten minutes after I spoke to him, and the tenant dropped off a check for first, last, and security, as I was walking out of the office to come here. I'm dropping the lease off to him tonight. He lives in Venice Beach.”

“Interesting,” Abe commented, and then turned his attention back to Mark, who was investigating the closets. There were more than he needed. But he particularly liked the two bedrooms for the children, and he thought his kids would love the place. It was elegant and glamorous, but still comfortable, and it was all done in beautiful taste.

Mark was pondering the rent as he looked around, but he knew he could afford it. He just didn't know if he wanted to spend that much on rent. If he did, it would be the first outrageous thing he'd done for himself in an entire lifetime, but maybe it was time for him to do something outrageous. Janet had. She had walked right out the door into the arms of another man. All he was doing was renting an expensive apartment for a year, but one that he would really enjoy living in. He might even start sleeping decently again, on the peaceful grounds. He could swim laps in the pool when he came home from the office, or play tennis, if he could find a partner. He couldn't imagine inviting Cooper Winslow to play with him. “Is he ever around?” he asked the realtor with interest.

“Apparently he travels a great deal, which is why he wants tenants, so there are people living full-time on the property, and not just servants.” It was the party line, and Abe recognized instantly that it was probably what Liz had told her. She was always so diplomatic, and so protective of Coop's reputation. Abe didn't want to tell the realtor that there would no longer be servants living there in two weeks.

“That makes sense,” Mark nodded. “It's good security for him.” But he also knew what Abe had told him in confidence about Coop's financial situation. They shared a lot of information like that about their clients.

“Are you married, Mr. Friedman?” the realtor asked him politely. She wanted to make sure that he didn't have ten children, but that looked unlikely. And the fact that Coop's own accountant had brought him there meant that he didn't need any intense scrutiny in the screening process, which was simpler for all concerned.

“I…uh…no…I'm getting divorced.” It nearly choked him to say it.

“Do your children live with you?”

“No, they live in New York.” It broke his heart to say that too. “I'm going to be going back to see them as often as possible. They can only come out here during their vacations. And you know how kids are, they want to stay close to their friends. I'll be lucky if they come out once a year,” he said sadly. But the realtor was relieved, after Liz's warning that Coop wasn't anxious for tenants with children. He was a perfect candidate, a single man, with children who weren't even in the same city, and would hardly ever come to visit. You couldn't ask for better. And he was obviously solvent, if Abe had brought him. And then, as he walked back into the living room, he blurted out, “I'll take it.” Even Abe looked startled, but Mark was beaming, and the realtor was delighted. In the two first days on the market, she had rented both of Coop's properties, and at a very decent price. She thought ten thousand was fair for each of them, and Liz had said Coop would be satisfied if she got that much for them. She hadn't wanted to push any higher. And Mark looked ecstatic. Suddenly, he couldn't wait to get out of the hotel, and move in. The realtor told him he could occupy it within a few days, as soon as the credit check was complete, they got his check, and she gave him the keys. Liz had told her she wanted to have both facilities professionally cleaned for the tenants, which she mentioned to him.

“I think I'll move in this weekend,” he said happily, as he and the realtor shook hands on the deal, and he thanked Abe profusely for bringing him to see it.

“That was a lot easier and more productive than I expected it to be, and faster.” Abe smiled happily as they drove back down the driveway. He had expected him to agonize and have a tougher time making the decision.

“It's probably the craziest thing I've ever done, but maybe I need to be a little crazy once in a while,” Mark volunteered. He was always so serious and so responsible, so measured in everything he did. He wondered now if that was why he had lost Janet to another man, who was probably more exciting. “Thanks, Abe. I love the place, and I think my kids will too. We're going to get awfully spoiled living here for a year.”

“It'll do you good for a while,” Abe said compassionately.

That night Mark called Jessica and Jason in New York, and told them about the guest wing he'd rented from Coop.

“Who's he?” Jason asked, sounding blank.

“I think he's some really old guy who was in movies when Dad was a kid,” Jessica explained.

“That's about right,” Mark said, sounding pleased. “But the main thing is it's a great house, and we have our own wing, on beautiful grounds, with a tennis court and a pool. I think it'll be fun for you two when you come out.” All three of them were on the phone at the same time.

“I miss our old house,” Jason said, sounding glum.

“I hate my school,” Jessica chimed in. “All the girls are mean, and all the boys are geeks.”

“Give it time,” Mark said diplomatically. It hadn't been his idea to end the marriage, or move the kids to New York. But he didn't want to say anything critical about their mother. He preferred to keep whatever animosity they felt toward each other between them. It seemed better for the kids. “It takes time to get used to a new school. And I'm going to see you soon.” He was flying to New York for a weekend, in February. They had reservations in Saint Bart's in March for their spring break. And he was thinking about chartering a small boat for their Caribbean holiday. He was trying to break out of his familiar mold. “How's Mom?”

“She's okay, she goes out a lot,” Jason complained, but they hadn't said a word yet about the new man. Mark was sure she hadn't introduced them to him yet. She was waiting for things to settle down. They had only been there for three weeks, nearly four. It wasn't a long time, although it felt like an eternity to him.

“Why can't we keep our old house?” Jessica asked mournfully, and when he told her it had just sold, they both cried. It was yet another conversation that ended on an unhappy note. They had a lot of those. And Jessica always seemed to be looking for someone to blame, mostly him. She still hadn't figured out that her mother had wanted the divorce. And Mark didn't want to point the finger at her. He was waiting for Janet to step up to the plate and take responsibility for it herself, but so far she hadn't. She had just told them that she and Daddy hadn't been getting along, which was a lie. They'd been fine, until Adam came along. Mark wondered how she was going to sell him to the kids, maybe as someone she'd just met. It was probably going to be years before they figured it out, if they ever did, which depressed him too. His children were going to go on blaming him forever for causing the divorce. And one of his worst fears was that his kids were going to be as crazy about Adam as their mother was, and then they would forget him. He was three thousand miles away, in Los Angeles, and he couldn't see them as often as he liked. He could hardly wait for their vacation in Saint Bart's. He had chosen it because he thought it would be fun for them, and for him too.

He promised to call them the next day, as he always did. And he gave the hotel notice that night that he was moving out on the weekend. He could hardly wait. He loved his new digs. It was the first cheerful thing that had happened to him since Janet had hit him with the news. He felt like he'd been in shock for the last five weeks. And that night, he went out and ate a hamburger before he went to bed. For the first time in weeks, he was actually hungry.

He packed his clothes into two suitcases on Friday night, and on Saturday morning, he drove to the estate. He had the code to the gate and opened it, and when he let himself into the guest wing, it was immaculately clean. Everything had been vacuumed and dusted, and the furniture shone. The kitchen was spotless and there were clean sheets on his bed. And for a surprisingly long moment, it felt like coming home.

After he'd unpacked, he took a walk around the grounds. They were beautifully tended. He went out and bought groceries, and fixed himself lunch, and afterwards he went to lie beside the pool, to soak up some sun. He was in great spirits that afternoon when he called the children. It was the end of the day for them, on a snowy Saturday in New York. And both kids sounded bored. They were tired of being shut in. Jessica was going out with friends that night, but Jason said he had nothing to do. He missed his dad, and his house, and his friends, and his school. There was apparently nothing he liked about New York.

“Hang in, sport, I'm coming to see you in two weeks. We'll find something to do. Have you played any soccer this week?” Mark chatted with him, and Jason continued to complain.

“We can never play because of the snow.” Jason hated New York. He was a California kid, and had lived there since he was three. He didn't even remember living in New York before. All he wanted to do was go back to California, which still felt like home to him.