“Are you going to marry the doctor?”

“No, Megan,” Liz said quietly, “I'm not going to marry anyone. I'm going to eat pizza and see a movie. It's pretty harmless.” But it was interesting to her to realize the strong reaction her children had to it, both pro and con. It made her think about it herself as she walked slowly upstairs to her bedroom. Was it wrong? Was it a crazy thing to do, or inappropriate? Was it too soon to be “dating”? But she wasn't dating Bill, they were just going out for movies and dinner, and she certainly didn't want to marry anyone, as Megan had accused. She couldn't imagine marrying anyone after Jack. He had been the perfect husband for her, and anyone else would fall short, she was sure. This was just an evening out, and Bill was just a friend. But Megan was still on the warpath when Bill came to pick her mother up the next evening promptly at seven. Megan glared at him, and stomped up the stairs as loudly as she dared after she let him in. She didn't say a word to him, or introduce herself, and Liz apologized for her being so rude, but Jamie made up for it as he came downstairs with a broad smile to greet Bill. He was happy to see him. And Bill smiled and chatted with him before they left for dinner.

“Did you have fun at the party last night?” Bill stroked the silky dark hair as he asked him.

“It was fun.” Jamie nodded. “I ate too many hot dogs and got a stomachache. But it was fun before that.”

“I thought so too,” Bill agreed, and then pretended to look worried. “You're not going to give me a shot, are you, Jamie?” The child laughed at the joke, and then Bill asked him if he'd ever flown a kite, and Jamie admitted that he hadn't. “You'll have to come fly mine with me sometime,” he said pleasantly. “I have a really great one. It's an old-fashioned box kite I made myself, and it flies really well. We'll take it out to the beach sometime and fly it.”

“I'd like that,” Jamie said with wide eyes and a look of interest.

Rachel and Annie came down to say hi to him then, but Megan never appeared again. She was sulking in her room, and furious with her mother. Peter was out, he'd been picked up by friends since he couldn't drive, and Bill said to say hello to him as they left. Jamie promised to tell Peter when he got back.

“They're great kids,” he said admiringly. “I don't know how you do it.”

“Easy,” she smiled as she got into his comfortable Mercedes, “I just love them a lot.”

“You make it sound a lot easier than it is. I just can't see myself doing that,” he said, as though contemplating a liver transplant, or open-heart surgery. He made it sound painful and difficult, and potentially fatal. Being a parent had always been something of a mystery to him.

“Can't see yourself doing what?” she asked, as he started the car and backed down her driveway.

“Being married and having kids. You make it look so effortless, but I know damn well it isn't. You have to be good at it. It's an art form. It's a lot tougher than practicing medicine, from all I know.”

“You learn it as you go along. They teach you.”

“It's not as simple as that, Liz, and you know it. Most kids act like juvenile delinquents, and wind up on drugs, or something close to it.

You're damn lucky to have five kids like that,” and he included Jamie in the compliment just as she did. He was a terrific kid, and despite his challenges, he only took a little more care and attention than the others. She had to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't accidentally hurt himself, or do something dangerous, or get lost.

“I think you've got some funny ideas about kids,” she said as they drove along. “They're not all little hoodlums, you know.”

“No, but a lot of them are, and their mothers are worse,” he said matter-of-factly, and she laughed.

“Should I get out of the car now before you find out the truth about me, or will you trust me through dinner?”

“You know what I mean,” he insisted. “How many marriages do you know that work, really work?” he asked bluntly, sounding like a true cynic, and a confirmed bachelor.

“My marriage worked,” she said simply. “We were very happy for a very long time.”

“Well, most people aren't, and you know it,” he said, trying to convince her.

“No, you're right, most people aren't that happy, but some are.”

“Damn few,” he said, as they reached the restaurant, and she looked at him cautiously once they were seated at their table.

“How did you get such terrible views about marriage, Bill? Was it as bad as all that?”

“Worse. By the time it was over, we hated each other. I haven't seen her since, and wouldn't want to. And she'd probably hang up on me, if I called her. That's how bad it was. And I don't think we were the exception.” It was obvious that he believed what he was saying, although Liz didn't.

“I think you were,” she said calmly.

“If we were, then you'd be out of business.” She laughed at that, and they ordered a mushroom-and-pepperoni pizza with olives on it. It sounded good to both of them, and when it came, it was delicious. They dove into it, and had eaten roughly half when they decided they'd had enough, and the waitress served them coffee.

They had talked about a lot of things, medicine, the law, the years he had spent in New York during his residency, and how much he liked it, and she talked about going to Europe with Jack and loving it, particularly Venice. They touched on a wide variety of subjects, but she was still intrigued by what he'd said about marriage and children. He obviously had very strong opinions on the subject. And she felt sorry for him. He had deprived himself of a way of life she cherished. She wouldn't have given up the years of her marriage for anything, and certainly not her children.

Without them, she knew her life would be empty, as she suspected his was. All he really cared about was his work, and the people he took care of and worked with. It was a lot, but not enough for a whole life, in her opinion. But they didn't bring up the subject again. Instead, their conversation turned to films.

He had very eclectic tastes, he liked foreign films, and arty movies, as well as some big commercial ones. She admitted that she enjoyed the kind of movies she saw with her children, they were all very commercial films, and in Peter's case, action movies. And she used to love going with them. It reminded her of how little she had done with her children, out in the world, since Jack died. She was always there for them at home, but she seldom went out with them anymore, and she promised herself silently that she would in future. Bill had gotten her rolling again, and after the film they saw that night, she promised herself she was going to take the kids soon. It was a long time since they had done something like that together, and it was time now.

She invited him in for a drink when they got home, but he said he had to get up early the next day. He had to be at the hospital at six, and she was touched that he had stayed out so late with her. It was after eleven o'clock, and more likely than not, he'd be tired in the morning. She apologized to him for it and he smiled.

“I think you're worth it.” She was surprised by his words, but she was glad he said them. She had had a good time with him. She thanked him, he promised to call her again soon, and she went inside as he drove away. Peter and Megan were still up, and she could see almost before she closed the door that she was about to be subjected to the inquisition.

“Did he kiss you?” Megan asked accusingly, with a tone of disapproval and revulsion.

“Of course not. I scarcely know him.”

“That wouldn't be cool on the first date,” Peter said wisely, and his mother laughed.

“I'm sorry to disappoint you guys, we're just friends. I think he's very careful not to get involved. He cares more about his work. And I care more about you. You have nothing to worry about, Megan,” she said firmly.

“I'll bet you ten bucks he kisses you next time,” Peter said with a look of amusement.

“You won't win that one,” she told him. “Besides, who tells you there'll be a next time? Maybe he had a lousy time and won't call me.”

“I doubt it,” Megan said glumly. She could see disaster ready to strike them, in the form of Bill Webster.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Meg. I wouldn't waste time worrying about it. Besides, I have a trial next week that I'll have to work on.”

“Good. You can stay home with us. You don't need a man, Mom.”

“Not as long as I have you, is that it, Megan?” But she had to admit, it had been nice being out with Bill, talking about grown-up things and learning about him. There had been just enough of an undercurrent of mutual admiration. They didn't want anything from each other, they just liked each other, and they'd had a good time. Even if she never heard from him again, Liz told herself, it was nice being with him, and feeling like a woman, and not just a mother. It was nice being with someone who wanted her to have a good time, and was interested in talking and listening to her.

She sent Megan and Peter off to bed then, and went to bed herself. Jamie was already in her bed, waiting for her. He still slept with her sometimes, and it was nice being in bed with him too. And as she fell asleep beside her child, she wondered if Megan was right, and she didn't need a man. But she wasn't quite as convinced as she had been. It had been nearly nine months since she lay beside Jack, and had made love with him. It seemed like an eternity to her now, and for the moment at least, she had no real desire to change that. In her mind, that part of her life was over forever.

And as he went to sleep that night, Bill Webster was thinking of her, and how much fun she had been. He wasn't sure what would come of it, but there was no doubt in his mind, he liked her.