“You were right,” Faith said to him graciously that night over dinner. “She's having a ball.”

“I usually am right,” he said without hesitation. “I'm right about your going to school too. It's going to be a colossal mistake.” Faith didn't want to discuss it with him. She didn't want to have a fight with him, but he didn't back off as he looked at her. “Have you come to your senses about that yet, Faith?” She didn't know why he'd brought it up now, but it made her feel anxious. She was taking the LSAT in a little over a week, and still felt guilty, concealing it from him.

“No, Alex, I haven't. I'm starting in three weeks.” She had paid the tuition out of her own money. Her mother left her a little when she died the year before. All of Jack's had gone to his widow, and he'd left his insurance money to her as well. She had taken it all with her when she'd disappeared. She'd left a box of his favorite possessions for Faith, and taken the rest.

“You'll regret it,” Alex continued, as Faith tried valiantly to change the subject, and failed. “You may even flunk the first term.”

“I really don't want to discuss this with you,” she said bluntly, finally, and he stopped talking to her for the rest of the meal. And afterward, he went upstairs to read. She was discouraged about it while she did the dishes, and after she finished clearing up, she sent Brad an e-mail.

“For heaven's sake,” he said when he answered only minutes later, as usual he was at his desk, when the signal came that he had mail. “What is he talking about? You had better grades in school than Jack and I did. You graduated Barnard magna cum laude. Doesn't he know who you are? I flunked the bar the first time I tried to pass it. I'll lay you odds you pass it the first time. Why doesn't he get off your back? Just tell him to fuck off the next time he says it,” Brad said, sounding irritated. “I believe in you, Fred. Now you believe in you too. Love, Brad.”

“I guess he's still mad about my going back to school,” Faith replied. “I was hoping he'd be over that by now.” It reminded her of all the things Zoe had said. She hadn't told Brad that Zoe had accused her of being in love with him, and thought she should be, if she wasn't yet. She wasn't sure he'd have been amused. And it was as far from the truth as you could get. She loved him as a friend, just as he loved her. But it was hard for a girl Zoe's age to understand. The beauties of platonic friendship. At her age, it was all about sex.

“I'm tired of Alex picking on you,” Brad said when he responded again. “How can you live with that without getting worn down?”

“I'm used to it. He doesn't mean it. That's just the way he is,” she defended Alex in her next e-mail.

But at Brad's end, things weren't all smooth sailing these days either. The holidays seemed to bring out the worst in everyone. Particularly Pam. She was going from one party to another, and she wanted Brad to go with her, and he was too busy in the office, nor did he care about the social events she loved. He had long since told her that he'd prefer she went with one of her friends. But at certain times of year, she insisted that he go with her. Particularly during the opening of the social season in September, and at Christmas. Pam was going to cocktails and dinners and dances, benefits and openings and holiday parties. He couldn't begin to keep her social calendar straight, nor did he want to. He was doing things that were far more important to him. He had a short trial the week before Christmas, which ruled out everything else for him. But it created enormous tension between them. Pam was not amused.

“For God's sake, can't you get your paralegals to do the prep work? Do you have to do everything yourself?” He had just told her he couldn't go out again that night. He had been in the office till two A.M. the night before—it was an escape for him—one he loved.

“I can't leave this kind of work in the hands of someone else, Pam, and you know that.”

“Why not? I do. I go to court too. My paralegals and my assistant do half the work.”

“You're not trying to get kids off from murder charges. There's a difference. There are lives in the balance here.”

“As a matter of fact, you're right, Brad. Ours. I'm sick and tired of your never being around.” She was fuming, as she paced in front of him in a blue sequined evening gown. She looked stately and beautiful, and the look in her eyes would have terrified most men, but not Brad. He was used to her, and her tantrums. They no longer impressed him as they once had. Although they were fearsome to watch at times.

“I thought we came to an understanding about this years ago,” he said, looking exasperated.

“You said you'd come to at least some of the events, if they were important to me.”

“But not when I'm preparing a trial. I can't. Simple as that.” He refused to be intimidated by her. She had been doing it, or trying to, for a long time.

“Why the hell not? What about your little bleeding-heart girlfriend? Doesn't she expect you to go out with her once in a while?” Brad was shocked by what she'd just said, and narrowed his eyes at her.

“What was that? What are you talking about?” He looked mystified.

“I saw one of your e-mails to her the other day, about what a gentle soul she is, and something about going to church with her. Since when have you been religious? What is she? A nun?”

“More important, what are you, Pam? What are you doing snooping through my computer? That's a pretty lousy thing to do.”

“You left it open while you were out in the garage. So what's that about?”

“She's an old friend from my childhood. Her brother was my best friend. Jack. This is his sister, Faith. And we're friends. Nothing more than that. I don't owe you any apologies or explanations. I had dinner with her in New York, and yes, I went to church with her.”

“How pathetic. Are you sleeping with her?” Pam spat at him. They hadn't made love in years, and scenes like this were why, as far as Brad was concerned. And he was certain that Pam had cheated on him several times over the years. He was smart enough not to ask, and he no longer cared.

“No, I'm not sleeping with her, if it's any of your business. I don't ask about your life.” They had stopped sleeping with each other by tacit agreement. He just wasn't in love with her anymore. It was like making love to a machine. Pam was all about ambition and drive. After a while, Brad felt as though he were making love to a computer, or his desk. He just couldn't anymore. He preferred to be celibate than to make love to her, although she was convinced that he had affairs. As sexual as he had been with her in the beginning, it was inconceivable to her that he hadn't had sex for years. It was one of those sacrifices he had made, that he and Faith had talked about, although he hadn't explained that aspect of his life to her, and didn't intend to. It wasn't appropriate information to exchange.

But Pam looked shocked by what he had just said. Something in his eyes made her stop and stare. “Are you in love with her?”

“Of course not. She's a friend. Nothing more. I've known her since she was a little kid.”

“If you're not sleeping with her, and you went to church with her, then I'll bet my ass you're in love with her, Brad.”

“Does it have to be one or the other? Can't we just be friends? And that doesn't explain what you were doing in my computer. I don't go through yours.”

“I'm sorry. I just happened to see it. Your letter was on the screen.” He wondered if he had said anything unpleasant about her, though he suspected not since Pam hadn't commented on that. “She must be somewhat pathetic if she spends her life in church.”

“What she does is none of your goddamn business. Now, let's get back to the point here. I have to work. I'm not going out. And frankly, after all this bullshit, I wouldn't go anywhere with you anyway. So find yourself some other poor slob to push around. You know plenty of guys. Find one who wants to take you to parties every night. I don't.” And with that, he slammed out of the room, and went back to his study. He had come home to get something to eat and pick up a file. He sat down at his desk for a few minutes and found that he was shaking. He felt violated by Pam reading his e-mails, and talking about Faith the way she had. Faith had nothing to do with her, and he had done nothing wrong. He was outraged that Pam would accuse him of sleeping with Faith or even suggest that he was in love with her. It was nothing of the sort, for either of them. They had enjoyed the sacred bond of friendship for nearly forty years. Something that Pam knew nothing about. There was nothing sacred to her.

He stormed back to the office half an hour later, with a severe case of indigestion and a headache. No one on the planet could make him angrier than Pam. She had a knack for driving him out of his mind. She was stubborn and unreasonable and aggressive. And if he let her, she could argue with him for hours. He was still upset when he got back to his office, and finally decided to call Faith and see if she was home.

As it so happened, Alex was out at a business dinner, and she was home alone. She was pleased and surprised to hear him, and he calmed down almost instantly the minute he heard her voice.

“I'm sorry to bother you,” he apologized, and she could hear that he was stressed.

“Are you okay?” She sounded worried about him, and he smiled. She was everything Pam wasn't. She was gentle, sensitive, cautious, thoughtful, generous of spirit, and nurturing in every possible way.

“I'm just tired. And grumpy,” he explained. “I've had a bad day. How was yours?” He felt guilty for burdening her, particularly about Pam. But it was nice having her shoulder to cry on. He hadn't had that kind of support and comfort in years, if ever. And for the past two months, she had been there for him unfailingly.

“It was fine. Alex and Zoe are out, though not together. And I was actually enjoying a quiet evening at home. I'm running the Motel 6 here. I just keep washing towels and changing beds, and blowing out candles, hoping the house doesn't burn down. But it's nice to have her home. Tell me about your bad day. What was that about?”

“I lost a motion at a hearing this morning, and I really needed it to get a continuance on a trial. I'm not ready, and I need to round up more witnesses, or this kid is going to get screwed. My secretary is out sick, which is driving me crazy. And I went home for an hour, to have some dinner, and had a fight with Pam. No big deal. Just a lot of little shit.”

“What was the fight about?” Faith always listened to him, and she did it well.

“She wants me to go to ten thousand goddamn parties. She goes to two or three a night, and I just don't have the time or the desire to play prince consort. She knows I hate that stuff, and once we get there, she disappears anyway. My only purpose is for her to make an entrance. I don't have time for that bullshit, Faith. I'm constantly in trial, or preparing one. And these kids need me to do it right.”

“Did she back down?” Faith asked calmly, and he took a breath and slowed down. He had gotten all wound up, telling her about the argument with Pam.

“Eventually,” he said, and then he got annoyed again. He had been debating about telling Faith, and saw no reason why not. He had nothing to hide. “She read one of my e-mails the other day, which really makes me mad.”

“I don't blame you.” Faith hated that kind of intrusion too. She was a very private person and didn't even like her kids reading her e-mails, particularly from Brad.

“Apparently, it was one of the ones to you. I think it was thanking you for the time you spent with me in New York. There was nothing particularly inappropriate about it, it just annoyed the hell out of me.” And then he laughed, “And she said I was in love with you. She's a little off the mark.”

Faith smiled as he said it. “Zoe said the same thing to me the other day. Or at least she asked me. She wanted to know if we were having an affair.”

“What did you say?”

“That we weren't. She was very disappointed, and said she thought we should. She said I deserve it, and so does Alex, after the way he treats me. I thought that was an interesting statement coming from her.”

“She's right. He doesn't do a damn thing for you, Faith. He never seems to take you to dinner or a movie.

It sounds like all he does is work, and sleep and complain … like me,” he suddenly laughed at the portrait he'd painted. “I guess Pam should be having one too, except in her case, she probably is.”

“Are you serious?” Faith sounded horrified. He hadn't told her they no longer slept with each other. There were some things he didn't say, even to Faith.