"Thank you, Tanny," Mary Stuart said, standing up again, and Tanya put an arm around her shoulders. Mary Stuart pulled open the curtains then, and the room filled with light, as she looked around her. "He was a great kid. I still can't believe he's gone."

"In some ways, he isn't," Tanya said softly, "we'll all remember him forever." There were tears in their eyes as they left the room, arm in arm, and walked slowly back to the kitchen. Tanya had another cup of tea and then went back to her hotel to dress for the party. And after she left, Mary Stuart took another look into Todd's room, closed the curtains, and then quietly closed the door, and went back to her own room. Maybe Tanya was right. Maybe it wasn't all her fault. Maybe it was Todd's fault and no one else's. But she still couldn't bring herself to be angry at him. It was so much easier to be angry at his father. Just as it was easier for Bill to blame Mary Stuart, and not himself, for not anticipating what had happened.

And she was still sitting and thinking about it when Alyssa called and they chatted for a little while, and she told her about Tanya's visit, but not about their conversation in her brother's bedroom. She told her Tanya had invited her to a party given by Felicia Davenport, but she was thinking of not going. She was feeling emotionally drained by their conversation. But Alyssa was outraged at the thought of her losing out on an opportunity like that.

"Are you crazy? You'll never get another chance like that, Mom. Go. Get dressed. I'm hanging up now so you can get ready. Wear the black chiffon Valentino."

"The one you wear all the time?" she teased, but it had been wonderful talking to her. She had always been close to her daughter, but after Todd's death they had grown even closer. And in many ways Alyssa had been there for her mother. She wanted to apologize for being so depressing for such a long time, but she didn't want to bring up painful subjects. Instead, she hung up, and forced herself to bathe and dress and put on the Valentino. It was a pretty dress, and she looked subdued and elegant as she put on high heels, and brushed her hair till it shone. And she had very carefully put on makeup. She put on diamond earrings that Bill had given her years before, and as she looked in the mirror, she smiled. She looked all right, she decided, maybe even slightly better than that, but it felt odd to be going out without her husband.

Tanya called and made arrangements to pick Mary Stuart up. She was waiting downstairs when the limousine came, and Mary Stuart slipped inside and looked impressed when she saw Tanya. She was wearing a loose, nearly see-through pink chiffon blouse, over black satin pants that showed off her trainer's hard work and her spectacular figure. She had on high-heeled black satin pumps, and her blond hair stood out like a huge mane. She looked incredibly beautiful and very sexy, but her assessment of Mary Stuart was satisfactory too.

"You look so elegant," she said admiringly, there was a quality about Mary Stuart that she had always envied. Everything about her was so completely perfect, down to the very last detail, the last hair, the last nail. She had sensational legs, and great hair, and tonight, for the first time in a year, her big, warm, brown eyes looked a little less haunted. "You look great."

"You're sure I won't disgrace you?" Mary Stuart asked shyly.

"Hardly. You'll have to be kicking the men away all night." She grinned, and then raised an eyebrow. "Unless of course you don't want to." But Mary Stuart shook her head at that. She wasn't looking for anyone else. Not yet, at any rate. And more than likely never. But she didn't like feeling that part of her life was entirely over, and for the past year it certainly had been, and in spite of her talk with Tanya in Todd's room that afternoon, for the moment, there was certainly no light at the end of the tunnel. But it just felt good to be dressed up again, and going out, and meeting new people. And the party, when they got there, was better than they'd expected.

Felicia Davenport was wonderful and warm and hospitable to both of them, and she and Mary Stuart spent a long time talking about New York and theater and even children. Mary Stuart loved her. She was a fascinating woman, and obviously a great friend to Tanya. Tanya spent most of the evening surrounded by men, and Mary Stuart had her fair share of admirers as well. She let everyone know she was married, and her wedding ring was plainly visible, but she had several very interesting conversations, and the whole evening was good for her ego. She felt great when they finally left, and Tanya offered to take her out for hamburgers again, but she really thought she should get home. She didn't want to push her new independence, and set Bill off.

Tanya dropped her off at home, and Mary Stuart invited her up, but she said she wanted to get back to the hotel and make some calls and relax, since Mary Stuart didn't want to go out to dinner.

"Thank you for a great time... for a lot of things..." Mary Stuart smiled at her gratefully. "As usual, you saved my life. It's funny how you always do that."

"I don't do anything except turn up once a year like a bad penny."

"You take care of yourself now, you hear," Mary Stuart scolded her, and they both laughed and then hugged, and Mary Stuart stood on the sidewalk and waved until the limousine disappeared, and as she turned and walked inside, she felt like Cinderella. Tanya's visits always transformed her life while she was there, and they always reminded her of what good friends they had been, still were, and probably always would be. It was a good thing to remember. And she felt better than she had in months, maybe over a year. Tanya's timing couldn't have been better. And even though she was having problems herself, she had still managed to give so much to Mary Stuart.

"Mr. Walker just went upstairs," the elevator man announced when she walked in, and a moment later she was in the apartment, and she saw him walk into their bedroom. He heard her come in, but he didn't turn around and look at her. It was like a slap in the face as she saw him walk away from her and refuse to see her.

"Hello, Bill," she said as she walked into the room shortly after him, and only then did he acknowledge her, as he glanced over his shoulder. He was holding his briefcase.

"I didn't see you come in," he said, but she knew he had heard her. He hadn't wanted to see her. He was the master of denial and rejection. "How was the party?"

"Very interesting. I met a lot of very intelligent people, it was kind of refreshing. Felicia Davenport was wonderful, and I liked most of her friends. I had a good time," she said, without apology for once. She suddenly didn't feel that she needed to crawl to him, to beg his forgiveness for her unforgivable failure. It was an odd thing to think, but it was as though that afternoon, Tanya had freed her. "It's too bad you couldn't make it."

"I left the office twenty minutes ago, while you were playing," he said unkindly, but he smiled as he said it. "We're leaving for London in three days." It was almost two weeks earlier than he'd planned.

"That's a lot earlier than you said, not just a few days," she chided him, but she felt punished again, and abandoned. There was no real reason why she couldn't stay in London with him. But he had long since made it clear to her that that was out of the question. He didn't want her there while he was working. It was yet another way he kept his distance from her, to punish her for her transgressions.

"I'll see you when you come over with Alyssa," he said, as though reading what was in her head. But two days in three months was hardly sufficient to sustain a marriage, particularly when there was no real reason for her not to be there, except that he didn't want her, which was the only reason that would keep her away from London. After her trip with Alyssa she would spend the rest of the summer in New York alone. And for a crazy moment, she thought of flying to California for a few days to visit Tanya. She had nothing else to do, and most of her boards and charities would be on hiatus for the summer. It was a thought, at least, although she knew full well she'd probably never do it.

A moment later, Bill disappeared into the bathroom and came out in his pajamas. He didn't even seem to notice her, or the dress she wore, or how pretty she looked. It was as though she had stopped being a woman for him the moment their son died.

She went into the bathroom after that, and slowly took the Valentino dress off, and with it went the illusion of her being either attractive or independent. She came out in her dressing gown, and Bill had his back to her again, and she saw that he was reading some papers. And before she could stop herself, it was as though a force deep inside her made her confront him. She spoke very clearly and very quietly in the room, and even she was surprised by her own words, but not as startled as he was.

"I'm not going to do this forever, Bill." She stood there for a moment after she said it, and slowly he turned and looked at her, holding his glasses in his hand with a look of amazement.

"What exactly does that mean?" He was the trial attorney at his most daunting, but she refused to be intimidated by him this time. The things Tanya had said had given her courage.

"It means exactly what I just said. I am not going to live like this forever. I can't do it. You never speak to me. You act as though I don't exist. You ignore me, you shun me, you reject me, and now you're going to London for three months, or two at least, and you expect me to be satisfied with a two-day visit. This isn't a marriage anymore. It is slavery, and people must have been a lot nicer to their slaves than you are."

It was the most outrageous thing she had ever said to him, certainly in the past year, and he did not look pleased with what he was hearing. "Do you think I'm going over for pleasure? You seem to have forgotten I'll be working." His tone was glacial.

"You seem to have forgotten we're married." He knew exactly what she meant, and she did not need to explain it further.

"This has been a very difficult year. For both of us," They had recently passed the anniversary of Todd's death, and that had only seemed to make it harder.

"I feel as though we died with him," Mary Stuart said sadly as she looked at her husband, but she was relieved that they were at least speaking. "And our marriage with us."

"That's not necessarily true. I think we both need time," he said, but she could see that he wasn't being honest, neither with her nor himself. He thought it was all going to fix itself one day, and Mary Stuart could have told him it wasn't. It was going to take a lot more now than just waiting.

"It's been a year, Bill," she reminded him, wondering how far he would be willing to be pushed. She suspected not much farther.

"I'm aware of that," he said, and then there was silence. "I'm aware of many things. I did not know, however, that you were planning on issuing ultimatums." He was not pleased by any means with her opening statement.

"It wasn't intended as that. It was information. Even if I wanted to do this indefinitely, I don't think I could."

"You can do anything you want to."

"Then maybe I don't want to. I don't want to be treated like a piece of furniture for the rest of my life. This isn't a marriage, it's a nightmare." It was the first time she had told him. And this time he said nothing, he simply turned his back on her again, put his glasses back on, and concentrated on his reading. "I can't believe you're going to ignore me again after what I just said to you."

He spoke to her with his back to her, and it was hard to remember, watching him, that there had been warmth or love or laughter between them. It was harder still to believe that she had been deeply in love with him, and he was the father of their children. "I have nothing more to say to you," he said, as he read on. "I've heard your statement, and I have no further comment." He was being unbelievable, and she couldn't help wondering if he was so frightened and in so much pain that he was simply frozen. But whatever it was, and however it had come, she had finally faced the fact that she couldn't stand it for much longer.

She went to bed, and he turned off the light, and he never turned back to her again, or said another word to her, and she lay in bed that night in the dark for a long time thinking of Tanya and the people she had met at Felicia's party. Even at forty-four, there was a life out there for her, and people who were willing to talk to her, and show a little interest. It was as though Tanya had opened a window for her, and she had dared to look outside for the first time in ages. It was all very intriguing, and she had no idea what to do now. And after hearing what she had said to him that night, neither did her husband. They were trapped on opposite sides of what had become the Grand Canyon, and had once been their marriage.

Chapter 5.

For the next three days, Bill and Mary Stuart's paths rarely seemed to cross. He worked until nearly midnight every night, and it was beginning to feel as though he lived at the office. But Mary Stuart was used to it now. She had been more or less alone all year, and this really wasn't any different. The only change in the past week was that she no longer had to cook dinner. She was getting thinner as a result, and in the past Bill would have worried about her, but as things were now, he didn't even notice.

And on the day before he was scheduled to leave, Mary Stuart called him at the office, to see if he wanted her to pack for London. She assumed he would, as he had never packed for himself before, but he said he was coming home that afternoon to do it.

"Are you sure?" She was surprised, it was as though she didn't know him anymore. Nothing he did, or wanted from her, was the same as it once had been. But their son had died, and as far as he was concerned, it was her fault, or at least that was her reading of the situation. And as far as she was concerned, they were no longer the same people. "I don't mind packing for you." It seemed the least she could do, and it would keep her busy. She was still trying to absorb the fact that her husband was leaving for two or three months. It had only just that day really hit her. With the exception of her trip with Alyssa, she was going to be alone for the entire summer. And in some ways, it scared her. It underlined the distance between them that he didn't want her staying with him in London. He claimed it would be too boring for her, and it would distract him. But in years past, there would never have been a moment's doubt about her going. "I don't mind packing for you," she said again on the phone, but he insisted that he needed to pick his clothes himself, as he wanted to be very careful about what he wore in court in London.

"I'll be home at four," he explained, sounding pressed. Leaving his office for several months was complicated, and there were a million details to think of. He was taking one of his assistants with him, and had she been younger and more attractive than she was, Mary Stuart would have come to the obvious conclusion. As it was, she was a heavyset, intelligent, but very unattractive woman in her early sixties.

"Do you want dinner at home, or would you rather go out tonight?" Mary Stuart asked, feeling depressed, but trying to make it sound festive. It was as though there was no pretense between them anymore, not even the illusion of closeness, and it somehow seemed more acute now that he was leaving.

"I'll just grab something out of the fridge," he said absently, "don't go to any trouble." They had both come to hate their awkward, silent dinners, and she had been relieved when he preferred staying at the office, and working late. And as a result, they had both gotten thinner.

"I'll get something cold at William Poll or Fraser Morris," she said, and went out to do some errands. She had to buy a book she knew he wanted for the plane, and pick up all of his dry cleaning. And as she hurried east toward Lexington she was suddenly glad that she was leaving in a few weeks. Despite the chasm between them now, it was going to be incredibly lonely without him.

She picked up some dinner at William Poll, got the book and some magazines, some candy and gum, and she had all of his clean shirts hanging in his dressing room for him when he got home from the office at four-thirty. And he went straight to his packing, without saying a word to her. He was busy taking suitcases out of storage bins high above his closet. And she didn't see him again until seven o'clock when he appeared in the kitchen. He was still wearing his starched white shirt from work, but he had taken his tie off, and his hair was a little ruffled. It made him look young suddenly, and the painful part of it was that he looked so much like Todd now, but she tried valiantly to ignore it.

"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.

"Do you have a meeting today?" he asked, glancing over the paper.

"No," she said quietly. There was a pain in the pit of her stomach.

"You're awfully dressed just to sit around at home. Are you going out to lunch?" She couldn't help wondering why he cared, he was leaving for two months anyway. What difference did it make what she did now?

"I didn't want to take you to the airport in blue jeans," she said, and with that, he raised an eyebrow.

"I wasn't expecting you to take me. I have a limo coming at ten-thirty. I'm giving Mrs. Anderson a ride. They're picking her up first, and actually Bob Miller is coming too. We were going to do some work in the car on the way to the airport." They couldn't bear to lose a single moment. The human robots. Or was it just an excuse to get away from her sooner?

"I don't have to go if you'd rather not," she said quietly, and he picked up the paper again and went back to reading.

"I don't think it makes much sense. It'll be simpler to say good-bye here." And less embarrassing. God forbid someone would ever think he loved her. Or did he? The faint humanity he had shown in the same room only the night before seemed to have disappeared, the wall was up again, and he was hiding not only behind it, but also behind the paper. "I'm sure you have better things to do today. The airport is a mess this time of year, it'll take you hours to get back into the city." He smiled at her then, but there was no warmth in it. It was the kind of smile you'd bestow on a stranger. She nodded, and said nothing, and when he got up, she put their dishes in the sink, and tried to keep herself from crying. It was so strange watching him leave, going through all the procedures and plans, and almost before she had come to terms with it, he had rung for the elevator and his bags were on the landing. He was wearing a light gray suit and he looked unbearably handsome. And it had been tacitly decided by then, she was not going to the airport. She stood in the doorway watching him as the elevator man took his bags, and then took a discreet step back so he couldn't see them.

"I'll call you," Bill said, looking like a kid again, and she had to fight back tears as she watched him. She wanted to tell him that she couldn't believe he was leaving, without a single loving gesture to her.

"Take care of yourself," she said awkwardly.

"I'll miss you," he said, and then bent to kiss her cheek, and without meaning to, she put her arms around him.

"I'm sorry... about everything..." About Todd, about the past year, about the fact that he felt he needed a two-month break from her while he worked in Europe. About the fact that their marriage was in shards around their feet. There was so much to be sorry for, it was hard to remember all of it, but he knew what she was saying.

"It's all right. It'll be all right, Stu..." He hadn't called her that all year. But would it? She no longer believed that. And they would be apart for two months now. She knew instinctively that they would only get farther apart from it, not closer. He was so foolish to think this was what they needed. If anything, it would make the gap unbridgeable in future.

He took a step back from her then, without kissing her, and looked down at her with immeasurable sadness. "I'll see you in a few weeks." All she could do was nod as the tears began to course down her cheeks and the elevator operator waited.

"I love you," she whispered as he turned away, and then he turned as he heard her. But he only looked at her, and nodded, and then the elevator door closed silently behind him. He hadn't answered.

When Mary Stuart walked back into the apartment, the force of her loneliness took her breath away. She couldn't believe how awful it had felt to see him go, and know that he wouldn't be home for months, that she wouldn't even see him except for a few days with her daughter. At least she had that, but even so, it felt like the end of their marriage. No matter what he said, the fact that he needed time away from her, and that he was no longer able to respond to her in any way, told its own story.

She sat on the couch and cried for a while, feeling sorry for herself, and then she walked slowly into the kitchen. She put the dishes in the dishwasher, and put the rest of his breakfast away, and when the phone rang she almost didn't answer. She thought it might be Bill calling from the car, telling her he had forgotten something, or maybe even that he loved her. But when she answered, it was her daughter.

"Hi, sweetheart." Mary Stuart tried to sound brighter than she felt. She didn't want to tell Alyssa how unhappy she was that her father had left. They had had enough unhappiness without Mary Stuart complaining about her marriage, particularly to her daughter. "How's Paris?"

"Beautiful and hot and romantic," she said. It was a new word in her vocabulary, and Mary Stuart smiled, wondering if there was a new man in her life. Maybe even a young Frenchman.

"Am I allowed to ask why.?" she said cautiously, still smiling.

"Oh, it just is. Paris is so wonderful. I love it here. I never want to leave." But she was going to have to in a few weeks. They were giving up her apartment when Mary Stuart came to Paris.

"I can't blame you for that," she said, glancing at Central Park from her kitchen window. It was pretty and green too, but it was also filthy and full of muggers and bums, and it was definitely not Paris. "I can't wait to see you," she said, trying not to think of Bill leaving an hour before. By then, he would have been at the airport. But she doubted that he'd call her. There was nothing to say, and she had made him too uncomfortable with her display of emotions. She had gotten the message very clearly.

But at Alyssa's end there was a strange silence. Her mother hadn't even noticed.

"Have you gotten organized a little bit?" Mary Stuart had asked her to get some maps together for their driving trips. That part of the trip was Alyssa's assignment. The rest had been taken care of by Bill's office. "Did you get the maps of the Maritime Alps? I heard about a great little hotel just outside Florence." But still there was no sound from her daughter. "Alyssa? Are you all right? Is something wrong?" Was there a problem? Was she in love? Was she crying? But when she spoke again, Mary Stuart could hear that she wasn't. She just sounded very awkward.

"Mom... I have a problem..."

Oh, my God. "Are you pregnant?" She was nearly twenty years old and it would have been a calamity Mary Stuart would have preferred not to face, but if she had to, she would go through it with her.