Bernie got out of the car and went inside the elegant lobby to ask for her. An assistant manager at the front desk, wearing a morning coat and a white carnation, checked the register and nodded to him solemnly.

“Dr. Jones is in four-twelve.”

He took the elevator to the fourth floor, and turned right as they told him to. And he held his breath as he pressed the bell. He suddenly couldn't wait to see her again, and when she opened the door in a navy satin evening gown, she took his breath away with her shining black hair and her blue eyes, and a stunning sapphire necklace with matching earrings. They had been her grandmother's but it wasn't her jewelry which took his breath away, it was her face and her eyes, and he reached out and gave her a warm hug that felt like coming home to both of them. It was incredible how much they had missed each other in such a short time, but they barely had time to say anything before her brother came bounding into the room, singing a filthy song in French, and looking precisely as she had described him. Samuel Jones looked like a very handsome, aristocratic blond jockey. He had gotten all their mother's elegant, delicate looks, and everything about him was tiny, except his mouth and his voice and his sense of humor and according to him his sex drive. He pumped Bernie's hand, warned him never to eat his sister's cooking or let her dance with him, and he poured Bernie a double Scotch on the rocks, as Bernie attempted to catch his breath and say a few words to Megan. But a moment later, her sister-in-law appeared in a flurry of green satin and red hair and giggles and squeals in French and a lot of very large emeralds. Being around them was like being in a whirlwind and it was only when they were alone in the limousine on the way to the church that he could sit back quietly and look at her. Sam and his wife had gone in their own car.

“You look absolutely spectacular, Megan.”

“So do you.” Black tie suited him to perfection. And it was a long way from their jeans and her slicker.

And then he decided to tell her what he'd been feeling. “I've missed you. It was almost disorienting coming back here this time. I keep wanting to be in Napa talking to you, or going for a walk somewhere … or at Olive Oyl's eating a hamburger.”

“Instead of all this grandeur?” she teased as she smiled at him, indicating their elegant garb and the limo.

“I think I prefer the simple life in the Napa Valley.” He smiled, thinking of their life there. “Maybe you were right to leave Boston.” He was almost sorry he was coming back to New York now. It didn't appeal to him as it once had. All he wanted was to go back to California, where the weather was gentle and the people were more polite, and where he knew he would see Meg in her jeans and her starched white doctor's coat. In a funny way, he was homesick.

“I always feel like that here.” She understood perfectly. She could hardly wait to go back in four more days. She was going home to spend New Year's Eve in the Napa Valley, on call for Patrick, who was on call for Christmas, and they both agreed that they needed a third doctor in their practice. But that was a long way away tonight, and Bernie held Megan's hand as they got out at Saint James' Church on Madison and Seventy-first. She had never looked lovelier and he was proud to be with her. There was a regal quality about her, a quiet elegance and strength. She looked like someone one could turn to and he stood beside her at the wedding, proud to be with her. He met her cousins afterwards, and chatted with her brother and his wife for a little while, and was surprised at how much he liked them. He found himself thinking of how different she was from Liz. She had strong family ties and a family she loved deeply, unlike poor Liz, who had been so alone in the world, except for him and Jane and Alexander.

He danced with Meg's sister-in-law, but more importantly, he danced with Meg. He danced with her until two o'clock in the morning, and then they sat at the Bemelmans Bar at the Carlyle till four-thirty, spilling stories, sharing confidences, and making discoveries about each other. It was almost six in the morning when he got back to Scarsdale in the limo. And he met her for lunch the next day. He had been in meetings at the store since nine, and he was exhausted from the night before. But at the same time he felt exhilarated and happy, and she looked pretty in a bright red wool coat when he picked her up and took her to “21” for lunch. They ran into her brother there, pretending to pick his wife up at the bar, and claiming that he was horribly hung over. He still had his hand on his wife's behind when he ordered lunch, and Bernie couldn't help laughing at him. He was boyish and shocking and outrageous, forty-one going on nine, as Megan said, but he was also very handsome. And eventually he and Marie-Ange went upstairs and left Megan and Bernie alone. He had already told Megan that morning over Bloody Marys and steak tartare that he hoped she was lucky enough to catch Bernie. He thought he was terrific and just what she needed: style, brains, and balls, as he described it, but he had forgotten the best part. A heart the size of a mountain. It was that that Megan loved so much about him. And she looked at him over lunch at “21,” and they talked about the Napa Valley. They could both hardly wait to get back there.

“Why don't you do your store there, Bernie?” She still loved the idea and the way his eyes sparkled when they talked about it.

“How can I, Meg? That's a full-time project.”

“Not if you know the right people to help you run it. You could run it from San Francisco, or even New York, once it really got started.”

He shook his head, smiling at her innocence. There was an enormous amount of work involved which she didn't understand. “I don't think so.”

“Why not do it anyway? Try it.” She had always encouraged him and he felt a spark of interest ignite in him again.

“I'll think about it.” But he was more excited about their plans for New Year's Eve. They had decided to spend it together, even if she was on call. He didn't mind that, and he had promised to drive to Oakville after his meetings in town on the thirtieth. It made it less painful to leave her that afternoon. She had to pick up her things at the Carlyle after lunch and fly back to Boston. And he had to go to a meeting with Paul Berman. He had two days left with his parents and the children and they flew by. And two days later, he was back on the plane to San Francisco and excited to see Megan again. He could hardly wait till the following night when he was planning to drive to Oakville. She had flown from Boston the day before, but when he'd called her she had been in the emergency room with a child with a hot appendix. And it was when he was alone in the house again that he realized how empty his house and his life and his heart were without her. He wasn't sure if he missed her, or Liz, and he felt guilty about his own confusion. And it was a relief when the phone rang at eleven that night. He was in the bedroom packing for Napa. It was Megan, and he was so happy to hear her voice he could have cried, but he didn't.

“Are you okay, Bernie?” She asked him that a lot and it touched him profoundly.

“I am now.” He was honest with her. “The house is so empty without Jane and Alex.” …and Liz …and you …and … he forced himself to think only of Megan, no matter how guilty it made him.

She told him about the medical journals on her desk, and it made him smile thinking of his father. And he told her about the meetings he was running the next day, and she brought up the Napa idea again. She insisted that she had a friend who could run a store for him to perfection.

“Her name is Phillippa Winterturn. And you'll love her.”She sounded so excited he smiled. He loved her enthusiasm. She was always full of new ideas bubbling over.

“Good God, Meg, what a name.”

Megan laughed. “I know. But it suits her perfectly. She's got prematurely gray hair, green eyes, and more style than anyone I know and I ran into her in Yountville today. Bernie, she'd be just perfect. She used to work for Women's Wear, and for Bendel's in New York a long time ago. She's fabulous, and she's free now. If you want, I'll introduce you to her.” She wanted him to do the store. She sensed how much he would love it.

“All right, all right. I'll give it some thought.” But he had other things on his mind now. New Year's Eve among them.

They had decided to make dinner together at his house, the following evening. She was going to buy the groceries and they were going to cook together, and with luck she wouldn't get called out before midnight. He could hardly wait to see her. And when they hung up the phone, he stood staring at Liz' closet but this time he didn't touch the door. He didn't open it, he didn't walk in. He didn't want to go near it. He was leaving her inch by inch. He knew he had to. No matter how much it hurt him.





Chapter 41

He got to Napa at six o'clock the next night, and stopped at his place to change. He wanted to get out of his city clothes, and he put on comfortable flannel slacks and a plaid shirt, and over it he put a heavy Irish sweater. He didn't need more than that when he picked her up, and when he got to her office, he could feel his heart pound, he was so excited to see her. She pulled open the door, and without thinking he pulled her into his arms and spun her around as he hugged her.

“A little decorum here, please, Dr. Jones,” her partner teased as he watched them. He knew Megan had been happy lately, and now he knew why. He also suspected they'd seen each other in New York, although she hadn't said so.

The three of them left the office together, and Bernie carried the groceries to his car, as she told him about her day, and he teased her that she wasn't working hard enough. She had seen forty-one patients.

They went back to his place and made steaks and a Caesar salad, and just as they finished the steaks, her beeper went off and she looked at Bernie apologetically.

“I'm sorry. I knew that would happen.”

“So did I. Remember me? I'm your friend. It's okay.” He put the coffee on while she went to the phone and she was back a moment later with a frown.

“One of my teenagers got drunk and locked himself in the bathroom.” She sat down with a sigh, grateful for the mug of coffee he handed her with a smile.

“Shouldn't they call the fire department instead?”

“They did. He passed out and hit his head, and they want me to make sure he doesn't have a concussion. And they think his nose might be broken.”

“Oh Lord.” He smiled at her. “How about letting me play chauffeur tonight.” He didn't want her driving on New Year's Eve, and she was touched by his thoughtfulness.

“I'd like that, Bernie.”

“Finish your coffee while I dump this stuff in the sink.”

She did and they left a few minutes later in the BMW as they headed for the town of Napa. “It's nice and toasty in here,” she murmured happily. And they enjoyed the music on the way down. There was a festive air to the evening even if she was working. “I'm always glad my roof leaks on the Austin. It's so cold and drafty that it keeps me awake at night coming back from the hospital at all hours, otherwise I might wind up wrapped around a tree sometime. But there's no chance of that freezing my ass off.” He didn't like thinking of her in danger or uncomfortable, and he was glad he had driven her tonight with all the drunks on the road. And afterwards they were planning to go back to his place for dessert and more coffee. She didn't want to drink champagne while she was on duty.

“Dr. Jones …Dr. Jones to the emergency room …” They were paging her at the hospital when she got there, and Bernie settled down in the emergency room with a stack of magazines. She promised to be back as soon as she could, and she was back exactly half an hour later.

“All done?” She looked businesslike in her white coat as she nodded, and she took it off and threw it over her arm as they walked out the door.

“That was easy. Poor thing was practically out cold, and he did not break his nose, or have a concussion. But he had a hell of a bump, and he's going to feel awful tomorrow. He drank a pint of rum before his parents found him.”

“Ouch. I did that in college once. Actually rum and tequila. I thought I had a brain tumor when I woke up.”

She laughed at him. “I did it with margaritas when I was at Harvard. Someone had some damn Mexican party, and all of a sudden I couldn't stand up. It was my second year there and I never lived it down. Apparently I did everything except run up and down the street naked and barking.” She laughed at the memory, as did Bernie. “Sometimes I feel a hundred years old when I think of things like that.” They exchanged a warm look and his eyes were gentle on hers.