When Berry had the floor completely clean, she tucked the puppy under her arm and carried her to a grassy knoll overlooking the little stream. A week ago everything had been bleak and brown, but April rains and unusually warm weather had prompted grass to grow and trees to bud. Berry stretched flat on her stomach and smiled. Calamity Jane bounded down a grassy slope, yelped in fright when she confronted a dandelion, and raced back. Berry hugged the little dog. “Would you like to know a secret?” she whispered. “I’ve always wanted a little black dog with floppy ears.”

The puppy looked like she might explode with happiness. She furiously wagged her tail and rolled on her back. When she spied Jake coming out of the house she rushed up the hill to greet him.

Jake set a cardboard box on the ground and spread a white linen tablecloth next to it. “The alternate plan for the evening is an exotic, romantic picnic.” He placed two crystal goblets on the tablecloth.

Berry skeptically looked at the bottle in his hand. “Champagne?”

“No. I decided to play it safe and go with sparkling apple cider.” He added two sterling silver candlestick holders with lavender tapers, lavender linen napkins, two white-and-gold china plates, and a silver tray stacked with elaborately decorated petits fours. He plunked a foil-wrapped package on each of the Lenox plates. “Peanut butter and jelly,” he explained. “My specialty.”

“Good. I love peanut butter and jelly.”

Jake lit the candles and leaned back on one elbow to watch the sun settle into the trees. Brilliant shades of orange and pink flamed on the horizon and then gave way to gentle night tones of mauve and shady green as the sun sank lower. A soft breeze played over the hillside. The candles flickered and tiny tree frogs sang evening songs along the wooded banks of the creek.

Berry wiggled her bare toes in the grass. “This is better than beef Bourguignon. This is perfect.” She studied Jake and secretly concluded he was the most perfect of all. His feet were bare, his long legs encased in clean faded jeans. A blue denim shirt casually draped over delicious broad shoulders. His eyes seemed smoky in the half light, hiding his thoughts.

Berry hoped her thoughts were just as well hidden. They were a confusing, painful mixture of hope and despair, love and anger, guilt and pride. Last Sunday she’d been so overwhelmed with love that she’d wanted to merge forever, body and soul, with Jake Sawyer. That had been wrong. You can’t give up your identity and your goals in the name of love, she thought. It placed too heavy a burden on the other person. Successful relationships found a balance. That was the hard part, finding the balance.

The little dog curled up on a corner of the tablecloth and instantly fell asleep. Jake and Berry looked at the slumbering ball of fluff and exchanged smiles warm with parental puppy love. He covered her hand with his, and a ripple of excitement rushed through her stomach.

She’d always imagined a good marriage as being comfortable, and a good sexual relationship as being satisfying. Her relationship with Jake Sawyer had a few comfortable moments, but for the most part it was turmoil. And sex was not satisfying. It was exhausting, explosive, ecstatic, overwhelming. Life was hopelessly complicated, she decided. Just when she thought she had something figured out, it turned upside down.

She blinked in surprise when a raindrop splashed on her nose. Another hit her forehead. “This has got to be the rainiest April ever,” Berry said, helping Jake pack the dishes into the cardboard box. “I still haven’t been able to open my apartment windows. The place smells worse than ever.”

“I can’t say I’m sorry. I like having you in my house.” Jake rolled the puppy up in the tablecloth and handed her to Berry. “You take Calamity Jane.”

They got to the house just as the rain turned heavy. Jake emptied the box on the kitchen counter and used the carton as a bed for the puppy. She half opened big brown eyes, made a muffled baby-dog sound, and went back to sleep.

Jake and Berry tiptoed from the kitchen to the living room, relit the candles, and made a fire in the Franklin stove. Jake plugged a dreamy CD into the stereo system. “Dance?”

Berry moved into the circle of his arms and relaxed against his body, noting how nicely they fit together. Memories of more intimate embraces flooded through her. They knew every square inch of each other. The slope of his hip was imprinted on her palm, the planes of his face embedded in her brain, his hard muscled thigh, the pulse point at the base of his neck. She knew every detail. It was nice to know another human being so thoroughly. It was special. Jake was special, and when she was in his arms like this her world was bliss. She cuddled closer and enjoyed the feel of his hands on her back.

The candle flames wavered in pools of molten wax, and the logs in the wood stove settled into glowing embers with a soft hiss. The stereo system automatically clicked off, but Jake continued to hold Berry in his arms.

Berry reluctantly raised her head from his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow as several car doors slammed in the distance, mingling with the muffled sounds of voices.

Jake looked down at Berry with the same puzzled expression. “Were you expecting company?”

The front door lock tumbled and Mrs. Fitz burst into the foyer, followed by Harry Fee, Miss Gaspich, Bill Kozinski, and a pack of senior citizens.

“You’ll never guess!” Mrs. Fitz gestured at Berry and Jake. “Mildred and Bill went and got married tonight! Isn’t that wonderful?” She hugged Mildred and dabbed at her own red-rimmed eyes. “When they came in to the Pizza Place and told me, I called some friends from the Southside Hotel for Ladies. I thought we should have a party for them. You know, a wedding reception.”

Berry’s mouth went dry. Mildred Gaspich and Bill Kozinski married. How long had they known each other? Two weeks?

Jake’s hand was at Berry’s elbow, moving her forward. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations.” He steered Berry toward Mildred and Bill. “Berry and I are very happy for you.”

“Berry don’t look so happy,” Mrs. Fitz said.

“She’s surprised,” Jake explained.

Berry managed a feeble smile. Pull yourself together! she ordered. You’re supposed to be happy for them. She had a lump in her throat the size of a basketball, and blind panic raced helter-skelter through her brain. Mildred was married. How could she have acted so recklessly? Didn’t she know the statistics on divorce? Why would she rush into a relationship that might fail?

Mrs. Fitz looked up at Jake. “Is it all right to have a party? I guess I should have called first, but I got so excited.”

Jake grinned. “Of course it’s all right to have a party. It’s not every day Mildred gets married to my sister’s father-in-law.” Jake turned to the flustered-looking bridegroom. “Have you called Penny and Frank?”

“Who?”

“Your son. His wife. My sister.” Jake rolled his eyes. “Never mind, I’ll call them.”

An elderly woman with orange hair waved a brown paper sack in the air. “I brought my Sinatra collection. Where’s the stereo?”

A case of beer appeared in the foyer. Two stout ladies staggered under a stack of steaming pizza boxes. “Where should we put these?”

Jake winced as the stereo blared Sinatra. “Good thing I don’t have neighbors.” He took Berry’s hand and led her to the phone. “This hasn’t exactly been the evening I’d planned.”

“You’re being a very good sport about it.”

“I’m trying to impress you with my good-humored flexibility. I’m actually screaming inside. I was leading up to a grand finale.” He dialed his sister’s number and made no attempt to keep the laughter from his voice while he explained the occasion and invited them to the party. He turned back to Berry. “About my grand finale…”

Berry blew out a sigh. “I have to tell you, I was really looking forward to it.”

Jake cracked his knuckles. “Me too. I was working myself up to it.”

“You sound nervous.”

“Scared to death. I’ve never done it before.”

Never done it before? She thought they’d done everything. “This doesn’t involve handcuffs, does it? Or leather stuff?”

Mrs. Fitz bustled past them. “We’re out of ice cubes. Isn’t this some party?”

“Yeah,” Jake said, “some party. Wall-to-wall people. Where’d all these people come from? Do we know any of them?”

Berry self-consciously crossed her arms over her newfound cleavage. “Jake, about this grand finale. I’m sort of a traditional person.”

“Damn, now I’ve made you nervous, too.” His eyes traveled around the crowded house. “If only we could find some nice quiet place we could still do it.”

“Well, ah… no sense being hasty about this. Maybe it would be best if we waited.”

“Aha!” His face lit up. “The bathroom. We can do it in the bathroom.”

Eek, Berry thought. What the heck was he going to do to her in the bathroom?

Jake draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into the powder room adjacent to the kitchen. He locked the door behind him and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Um, maybe you’d better sit down.”

Berry looked at the only possible seat and cracked her knuckles. “Do I have to sit? I mean, couldn’t we start out standing?”

“Sure. I just thought-this is a little awkward.”

Awkward? This wasn’t awkward. It was insane. The man had flipped. She must have flipped, too. Why else would she have followed him in here?

Jake looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure how to begin.”

Oh, boy, this was going to be another disaster. She could feel it coming. Her mother had lived for fifty-two years without ever losing a mitten, much less a car. Her mother had a sane, orderly life that never included exploding cereal, burning apartments, or being locked in the bathroom with a crazy man. How did it happen that someone who’d inherited those sensible Scandinavian genes could be fated to stumble through life in such an absurd fashion?