“All packed? I would have been happy to do it for you,” she said softly, setting out dinner on the table. It had been another hot day, and it was nice having cold meats to put out, and not having to cook dinner.

“I didn't want to give you a lot of trouble,” he said, sitting down on a high stool at the white granite kitchen counter. “I don't give you much happiness anymore, it doesn't seem fair to give you the work and the grief, and not much else. At least I can stay out of your hair and make things easy.” It was the first time he had even acknowledged their situation, and she stared at him in amazement. When she had even tried to say something to him a few days before, she had met a wall, and he had completely ignored her. She wondered now if he had actually heard her.

“I don't expect you to stay out of my hair,” she said, as she sat down across from him, and her eyes looked like pools of dark chocolate. He had always loved looking at her, loved her looks, and her style, and the expressiveness of her eyes, but the pain he had seen there for the last year had been too much to bear, and it was easier to avoid her. “Marriage isn't about keeping your distance. It's about sharing.” And they had. They had shared joy for nearly twenty-one years, and endless grief for the last year. The trouble was that they hadn't really shared it. They had each grieved silently in their separate corners.

“We haven't shared much of anything lately, have we?” he said sadly. “I guess I've been too busy at the office.” But it wasn't that, and they both knew it. She said nothing as she watched him, and he reached out slowly and touched her hand. It was the first gesture of its kind in months, and there were tears in her eyes as she felt his fingers.

“I've missed you,” she said in a whisper, but all he did was nod. He had felt it too, but he couldn't bring himself to say it to her.

“I'm going to miss you while you're away,” she said quietly. It was the first time in their marriage they would be apart for that long. But he had been so adamant about her not going with him. “It's such a long time.”

“It'll go quickly. You'll come over next month with Alyssa, and I hope to be home by the end of August.”

“We'll be together two days in two months,” she said, looking at him in despair, and slowly pulling her hand away from his. “That's not exactly the stuff of which marriages are usually made, at least not good ones. I could stay at the hotel and fend for myself during the day.” They had enough friends in London to keep her busy night and day for months, and he knew that. And it felt awkward suddenly to be begging him to let her be there.

“It will be just too distracting,” he said unhappily, they had been over it before and he had been definite about it with her. He did not want her coming to London, other than for a brief weekend with their daughter.

“I've never distracted you before,” she said, feeling like the supplicant again, and hating both herself and him for it. “Anyway… it's a long time… that's all. I think we both know that.” His eyes suddenly bore into hers, and there was a question in his eyes as he watched her.

“What do you mean by that?” For the first time, he actually looked worried. He was an attractive man, and she was sure that there would be plenty of women running after him in London. But she couldn't imagine that he was worrying about her. She had always been the perfect wife, but he had also never left her for an entire summer, after a year like this one.

“I mean that two months is a long time, especially after the year we've just had. You're leaving for two months, maybe more… I'm not exactly sure what I'm supposed to think about it, Bill.” She looked worried as she watched him, and then he startled her even further.

“Neither am I. I just thought… maybe… we could use some time apart, to get a grip on things again, to figure out what we do now, and how we put back all the pieces.” She was amazed to hear him say it. She hadn't even been sure he would have been willing to acknowledge how totally they'd come apart in the last year, let alone the fact that they needed to put the pieces back together.

“I don't see how being apart for two months is going to bring us any closer,” she said matter-of-factly.

“It might help clear our minds. I don't know… I just know that I needed to be away from you, to think about something else for a change, to lose myself in work.” She was startled when he looked up at her, and she saw tears in his eyes. She hadn't seen him cry since the day they'd picked Todd's body up at Princeton. Even at the funeral, he had looked stern, and she had never seen him cry since. He had been hiding behind his wall for all this time, and this was the first time he'd ventured out from behind it. Maybe he was upset about leaving too. At least that was something. “I wanted to be alone to work over there, Mary Stuart. It's just that…” His lips trembled as his eyes filled with tears, and she reached for his hand again and held it gently. “Every time I look at you… I think of him… it's as though we're all irreversibly bound to each other. I needed to get away from it, to stop thinking about him, and what we should have done or known or said, or how things could have been different. It's almost driven me out of my mind. I thought London might be a good way to change that. I thought leaving you behind might be good for both of us. You must feel the same way about me whenever you see me.”

She smiled through her own tears then, touched but dismayed by what he was saying. “You look so much like him. When you came into the kitchen a little while ago, you startled me for a moment.”

He nodded. He understood perfectly. They were both haunted. He was sick of the apartment, the occasional mail that still came for Todd, the room he knew was there but never stepped into. Even Alyssa looked like Todd at times, and he had had his mother's eyes and smile. It was all so unbearably painful.

“We can't run away from each other to escape the memory of our son,” Mary Stuart said sadly. “Then it's a double loss for us, we not only lose him, we lose each other.” In fact, they already had, and they both knew it.

“Will you be all right while I'm gone?” he asked, feeling guilty for the first time. He had told himself it was so sensible leaving her. He was going to London to work, after all. But in fact, he had been relieved at the opportunity to escape her, and now it seemed awkward and stupid, yet he didn't want to change it and take her with him.

“I'll be fine,” she said with more nobility than truth. What choice did she have now? To tell him she'd sit home and cry every day? That it was more than she could take? It wasn't. She was almost used to it. In fact, Bill had abandoned her when Todd died, emotionally anyway, and now he was just taking his body with him. She had been alone for a year, in truth two more months wouldn't make much difference.

“You can call me whenever you have a problem. Maybe you should stay in Europe with Alyssa for a while.” She felt like an aging aunt being foisted off on relatives or sent on cruises. But she knew she would be better off at home, than languishing alone in hotels around Europe.

“Alyssa is going to Italy with friends, she has her own plans.” And so did he. They all did. Even Tanya had her trip to Wyoming with Tony's children. Everyone had something to do, except for her. All she had was a short trip with Alyssa, and he expected her to spend the rest of the summer waiting. It was extraordinarily presumptuous of him, but given what their life had become, it no longer surprised her.

They picked at the food she'd bought without much appetite, talked about some things she needed to know, about their maintenance, an insurance premium that he was waiting for, and what mail he wanted her to send him. He was expecting her to pay the bills and take care of most of it. He would have precious little spare time while he worked on the case in London. And after they'd talked for a while, he went back to their bedroom, and packed the rest of his papers. He was in the bathroom taking a shower when she came in, and when he walked into the bedroom, he was wearing a robe and his hair was damp. He smelled of soap and aftershave, and for a moment, seeing him that way gave her a jolt. He seemed to be relaxing with her a little bit now that he was leaving. She wondered if it was because he was sorry to go and it made him feel closer to her suddenly, or if on the contrary he was so relieved it made him careless.

And when they went to bed that night, he didn't move close to her, but somehow, even at a distance, he seemed less rigid. There were things she would have liked to say to him, about how she felt, and what she still wanted from him, but she sensed that despite the slight warming of the cold war, he was not yet ready for her to bear her soul, or tell him how she was feeling about their marriage. She was feeling bereft these days, incredibly sad, and oddly cheated. She had been cheated out of a son, and Todd in turn had been robbed, or robbed himself, of his future. But it was as though when the spirits took him away, they took his parents with them. It would have been nice to be able to say that to Bill openly, but knowing that she would barely see him for the next two months, she didn't think it was the time, or that he was ready. And as she lay on the other side of the bed, thinking about him, Bill fell asleep without saying another word, or putting an arm around her. He had said all he was able to say for now, earlier in the kitchen.

And when he got up the next day, he was in a hurry to get organized. He called the office, closed his bags, showered and shaved, and scarcely had time to glance at the paper over breakfast. She had made eggs and cereal for him, and the whole wheat toast he ate every day, and then gone to get dressed herself, and she appeared in a black linen pantsuit and a black-and-white striped T-shirt. As usual, she looked like a magazine ad when he saw her.