“You look like Peggy Fleming, Mom,” Meg said admiringly.

“Hardly, sweetheart. But thanks anyway.” They skated together till almost noon. And then they went home to eat the turkey Paris had left in the oven while they went out. But in spite of the pleasant morning they'd shared, and the fact that she was thrilled to have them home, it was a difficult afternoon. The holiday seemed to underscore everything that had changed in the past year. It was agonizing for Paris, and Wim and Meg were scheduled to have dinner with Peter in the city the following night. He was anxious to see them too, but had understood that they wanted to be with their mother on Thanksgiving, and hadn't pressed the point with them.

Wim and Meg both looked very nice when they caught the five o'clock train into the city on Friday afternoon. It was snowing, and neither of them wanted to drive. He was taking them to Le Cirque for dinner, which seemed very festive and generous of him. They were both looking forward to it. Meg was wearing a little black dress of her mother's, and Wim had decided to wear a suit, and looked suddenly older than his years. He seemed to have matured noticeably in the three months since he'd left for school. And Paris was undeniably proud of him.

Peter was waiting for them at the entrance to the restaurant in a pin-striped suit, and Meg thought he looked very handsome, and said as much to him. He was pleased, and happy to spend an evening with them. He had invited them both to stay at the hotel with him, and had reserved rooms for each of them. And on Saturday morning, they were planning to go home to Greenwich. They were both returning to the West Coast on Sunday morning. And on Saturday night, they were both planning to see their friends. It was hard now, with separate parents to satisfy, to fit it all in, although both of them had seen friends the night before, after Thanksgiving dinner, as well. Paris was just grateful to have them sleeping there, she didn't expect to monopolize their time, nor did Peter. And they were glad to come into the city. There were already Christmas trees everywhere, and with the snow falling, there was a festive air and it looked like a Christmas card scene.

Peter seemed a little tense to Meg at first, as though he didn't know what to say to her, and he seemed a little more at ease with Wim. He had never been an easy conversationalist, and he had always counted on their mother to keep the conversational ball rolling. Without her, things were a little stiffer. But eventually, after a glass of wine, he seemed to loosen up. Neither of his children had seen Peter very often since he left, although he made a point of calling them often. And Meg was touched and surprised when he ordered champagne for dessert.

“Are we celebrating something?” she asked, teasing him. It was legal for her to drink, and she pushed her glass over to Wim so he could take a sip too.

“Well, yes, actually,” he said, looking uncomfortable, as he glanced from one of his children to the other. “I have a little announcement to make.” It was hard to imagine what it would be. Meg wondered if he had bought a new house or an apartment, or better yet, maybe he was thinking of going back to their mother. But in that case, she reasoned, he would have invited Paris to join them, and he hadn't. They waited expectantly as he put down his glass and seemed to be waiting for a drumroll. This was turning out to be harder than he'd expected, and he was feeling extremely nervous and it showed. “I'm getting married,” he blurted out finally, as both of his children stared at him in amazement. There had been nothing in their conversations with him to even remotely suggest it before this. He had thought he was giving them time to adjust to the divorce, and protecting Rachel from their inevitable conclusions. It had never even occurred to him what kind of damage he would do to his relationship with them by dropping her into their lives as a fait accompli, a surprise.

“You're kidding, right?” Meg was the first to respond. “You can't be.” She looked shocked, and her face went instantly chalk white.

All Wim could think about was his mother. This was going to kill her. “Does Mom know?”

They both looked crestfallen, and Peter looked panicked. “No, she doesn't. You're the first to know. I thought you should know first.” Who was he marrying? They hadn't even met her. All Meg could think was, how could he do this? And she couldn't help thinking that the woman he was marrying must be the reason he had left their mother. They weren't even divorced yet. How could he think of getting married? Their mother wasn't even dating, and had barely left the house.

“When did you meet her?” Meg asked sensibly, but she felt as though her head was spinning. All she wanted to do was jump up and hit him and run out of the restaurant screaming, but she knew that would be childish. She felt she owed it to him to at least listen. Maybe he had just met her. But if that was the case, marrying her this quickly was insane. Meg wondered if he was.

“She's worked at my law firm for the past two years. She's a very nice, very bright young woman. She went to Stanford,” he said to them, as though that would make a difference. “And Harvard Law School.” So she was intelligent and educated. They had established that much. “And she has two little boys, Jason and Thomas, who are five and seven. I think you'll like them.” Oh my God, Meg thought to herself, they were going to be her stepbrothers. And she could see in her father's eyes that he meant this. The only thing she was grateful for, as she listened to him, was that he had the good taste not to bring the woman to dinner. At least it showed a certain sensitivity that he hadn't.

“How old is she?” Meg asked, with a sinking stomach. She knew she would always remember this as one of the worst moments of her life, second only to the day her mother had called her to tell her they were getting divorced. But this was running a close second.

“She'll be thirty-two in December.”

“My God, Dad. She's twenty years younger than you are.”

“And eight years older than Meg,” Wim added with a somber expression. He wasn't enjoying this either. All he wanted was to go home to his mother. He felt like a frightened child.

“Why don't you just go out with her? Why do you have to get married so soon? You and Mom aren't even divorced yet.” As she said it, Meg was near tears. And her father didn't answer the question. He looked right at her with a stern expression. He was not going to justify this to them. That much was clear. Meg couldn't help wondering if he'd lost his mind.

“We're getting married on New Year's Eve, and I'd like both of you to be there.” There was an endless silence at the table, as the waiter brought the check, and Wim and Meg just stared at their father. New Year's Eve was five weeks away. And this was the first they'd heard of it. It was already a done deal, which didn't seem fair, to say the least.

“I was planning to go out with my friends,” Wim said as though that would excuse him from an event he would do almost anything not to attend. But he didn't see how he was going to get out of it, judging by the look on his father's face. Peter was actually foolish enough, under the circumstances, to look stern.

“I think you'll have to skip that this year, Wim. It's an important day. I'd like you to be my best man.” There were tears in Wim's eyes as he shook his head.

“I can't do that to Mom, Dad. It would break her heart. You can make me come, but I won't be best man.” Peter didn't answer for a long moment, and then nodded and looked at Meg.

“I assume you'll be there too?” She nodded, and looked as devastated as her brother.

“Are we going to meet her before the wedding, Dad?” Meg asked in a choked voice. She didn't even know the woman's name, and in his anxiousness, he had forgotten to tell them, and then took care of it in the next breath.

“Rachel and I are going to have breakfast with you tomorrow. She wants you to meet Jason and Tommy too. They're adorable little boys.” In a single breath, he had a new family, and it occurred to Meg instantly that his new bride was young enough to want more babies. The very idea of it made her sick. But at least he was including them in the horror. It would have been worse if they'd been excluded, or he'd told them after the wedding.

“Where are you getting married?”

“At the Metropolitan Club. There will only be about a hundred people there. Neither of us wanted a big wedding. Rachel is Jewish, and we didn't want a religious wedding. We're going to be married by a judge friend of hers.” It was beyond thinking. The vision of her father marrying someone else nearly reduced Meg to hysterics, no matter how smart or nice the woman was. Like Wim, all she could do now was think of how it would affect her mother. She was going to be heartbroken. But hopefully not suicidal. If nothing else, Meg was glad that she and Wim were in town to bring her comfort.

“When are you going to tell Mom?” Meg asked cautiously. Wim hadn't said a word in minutes and was playing with the napkin in his lap.

“I'm not sure,” her father said vaguely. “I wanted both of you to know first.” And then Meg understood what he was doing. He wanted them to tell Paris. It was going to be their job to break the news to her.

He paid the check after that, and they rode back to the hotel in silence. He said goodnight to them, and left them alone in the connecting rooms he had taken for them for the night. And it was only after he had left that Meg flew into her brother's arms, and the two stood there and hugged, crying loudly, like children lost in the night. It was a long time before they finally let go of each other, blew their noses, and sat down.

“How are we going to tell Mom?” Wim said, looking as devastated as Meg felt.

“I don't know. We'll figure it out. We'll just tell her, I guess.”

“I guess she'll stop eating again,” he said, looking grim.

“Maybe not. She's got her shrink. How can he be so stupid? She's practically my age, and she's got two little kids. I think that's why he left Mom.”

“You do?” Wim looked stunned. He still hadn't made the connection, but he was naïve, and young.

“He wouldn't be getting married this fast otherwise. The divorce isn't even final for another week or two. He didn't lose any time. Maybe she's pregnant,” Meg added with a look of panic, and Wim laid on the bed and closed his eyes.

They called their mother after that, just to check in, but neither of them said a word about their father's plans. They just said they'd had a nice dinner at Le Cirque, and were going to bed at the hotel.

And that night, for the first time in years, they slept in the same bed, clinging to each other in innocent despair, just as they had when they were children. The last time they'd done that was when their dog died. Meg couldn't remember being as miserable since. It had been a very, very long time.

And in the morning, their father called their rooms to make sure they were awake, and reminded them that they were meeting Rachel and her sons in the dining room downstairs at ten o'clock.

“I can hardly wait,” Meg said, feeling as though she was hung over. And Wim looked as though he felt worse. He looked sick.

“Do we really have to do this?” he asked as they went down in the elevator. Meg was wearing brown suede pants and a sweater of her mother's. And Wim was dismissively casual, wearing a UCB sweatshirt and jeans. It was all he had brought with him, and he found himself hoping they'd throw him out of the dining room, but they didn't. Their father and a very attractive young woman were already waiting for them at a large round table, and two little towheaded boys were squirming in their seats. And Meg noticed as soon as they got there that Rachel looked like a taller, younger, sexier version of their mother. The resemblance was striking. It was as though her father had turned back the clock and cheated time, with a woman who was a younger version of his soon-to-be-ex-wife. It was a compliment of sorts, but the irony of it somehow made it all seem that much worse. Why couldn't he have just resigned himself to getting older with their mother, and left things as they had been? And Wim realized as he looked at her, that Rachel was the girl his father had introduced him to casually in his office months before. Seeing her again now made Wim curious about how and when she had come into his father's life, and if they had already been involved back then.

Peter introduced both of his children to Rachel, and to Jason and Tommy. And Rachel made a considerable effort with both Meg and Wim. And finally at the end of breakfast, she looked at both of them and spoke cautiously to them about the wedding. She had disagreed violently with Peter about telling them so late, and was well aware of how hard it was going to be on them. But she wasn't willing to postpone it either. As far as she was concerned, she had waited long enough. She just thought Peter should have told them a lot sooner than he did. His idea about letting the dust settle after he left their mother seemed more than foolish to her. The one thing she had done before the fateful breakfast was to warn Jason and Tommy not to say that Peter was living with them, and they had agreed.