"I'm not going to haggle with them at this point," Rick said. "They could withdraw the deal, but I'll speak with Kramer. I can vouch that you've always been a woman of your word, Nora, and Jeff knows it too."

"You're certain she'll do it after the New Year?" Raoul Kramer asked Rick Johnson after the call had been made.

"Look, I've known Nora Buckley almost twenty-five years, Kramer. If she says she'll do it, she'll do it. But look at it from her standpoint. She doesn't want her kids to have a miserable time when they come home for Christmas. Is it really that much to ask? He's agreed not to put the house on the market until April first anyway. Signing after the holiday isn't going to change anything, but maybe this little bit of extra time before she signs will let Nora come to terms with her situation. You know she's getting the short end of the stick."

"Usually I like my business," Raoul Kramer said, "but in cases like this I don't. He's a real piece of work, my client, but you never heard me say it. Relax. I'll get Mrs. Buckley her time. But tell her I want you both in my offices at ten a.m. on January second to sign those papers. Deal?"

"Deal," Rick replied. "And, Kramer, thanks. I owe you for this one."

Raoul Kramer laughed. "What the hell could a little country mouse of a lawyer like you do for me?" he asked.

"Hey, you never know," Rick said, feeling better already. "Remember, the turtle won the race over the faster hare."

Raoul Kramer laughed again and hung up.

Jeff, however, wasn't happy. "I wanted this thing tied up fast. You promised me it would be, Kramer. That's why I'm paying you the big bucks. But instead I've ended up paying a bridge loan, and Heidi has me in debt up to my ears furnishing the place!"

"Look, if you hadn't defrauded your kids of the moneys for their college educations, Buckley, it would have been a done deal. I could have gotten you off almost scot-free. But you got greedy before you hired me, so you're paying for that blunder. When the first Mrs. Buckley signs the papers doesn't matter. The timetable we've set up will remain in effect. Let her and let your kids have one last peaceful Christmas in their home. She isn't going to tell them until after she signs the papers on January second. What the hell difference does it make to let her and your kids be happy? You act as if she's done something wrong, and you want to punish her for it, but if the truth be known, she's the innocent party in all of this. If I were her lawyer, I'd have hung you out to dry."

"Jeff"- Heidi Millar put a hand on his arm-"Mr. Kramer is right. Let Nora and the kids have their last moments in the house. The bridge loan payment hasn't come out of your pocket. I've been paying it. You've got just about everything you want. Be gracious in victory. And I'll stop buying stuff for the co-op, I promise." She gave him a little kiss, and smiled winningly.

Raoul Kramer almost laughed. Jeff Buckley had already lost his pants, and he didn't even know it. "Thank you, Ms. Millar," he said.

"Alright," Jeff said grudgingly. "Alright. But no more delays after this one. She had damned well better show up here on January second, and sign on the dotted line, or you're toast, Kramer!"

"Did you ever know your wife not to keep her word, Buckley?" Raoul Kramer asked his client. And when his clients had gone he picked up the telephone and called Rick Johnson. "I'm confirming. He's agreed, and yeah, you really do owe me." Then he hung up and sat back in his chair, considering what a shit Jeffrey Buckley was and knowing Nora Buckley would be relieved to have just a little more time. Poor faded little bitch. She really didn't deserve what was happening to her. Then he shrugged to himself. It was the law. Or at least that's what he told himself a lot lately.

And Nora was relieved when Rick called. "You've got your extension, but nothing else changes. We've got to be in town on the second of January to sign the papers."

"Thanks, Rick," Nora told him.

J. J. came home for Thanksgiving, and they had dinner with the Johnsons. He and Maureen were full of stories of their almost completed first term.

"He's studying," Maureen announced to their assembled parents. "He's in my freshman English class, and the teacher just loves him. Says he doesn't usually get sports jocks to whom he can give good grades."

"Hey, my sister said the first semester was important," J. J. protested.

"When did you ever listen to Jill before?" Maureen countered, and they all laughed.

Nora bought Christmas cards, and signed them "Nora Buckley and family." She had them out December 10. She decorated the house as she always had with lights and garlands of greens with red plastic apples, pinecones, and red plaid ribbon. There was a large real pine wreath on the front door hung just below the polished brass knocker. Carl Ulrich as usual got his painter friend with the small cherry picker to decorate the large concolor fir on Nora's lawn with colored Christmas lights. Since the Buckley house sat at the end of the cul-de-sac, the tree had always been a centerpiece for the street. When it had become too tall for even a person on a ladder to decorate, Carl had called in his buddy to do it.

"I wonder if the new people will let us decorate the tree," Rina said to Joanne.

Carla began to cry, standing out in the street, watching her husband and Carl up in the cherry picker draping lights while Nora directed from below.

"Don't cry, Carla," Tiffany said, putting an arm about the woman. "Everything's going to be alright. I just know it is!"

"Nothing is ever going to be the same again if Nora goes," Carla replied, and thought they said nothing because what could they say? They all knew she was right.

All the kids on Ansley Court came home for the holiday season, and as they always had, they celebrated together. They were at Sam and Rina's for the first night of Hanukkah, watching as their four-year-old grandson lit the first candle. They went to Joe and Tiffany's for Christmas Eve, eating her traditional cheese lasagna and salad before going off to the local Congregational church to sing carols. On Christmas Day they all went to Nora's for a traditional dinner of prime rib, Yorkshire pudding, and all the trimmings. And after dinner they moved to Joanne and Carl's home for a beautiful table of homemade desserts. And finally on New Year's Eve Rick and Carla gave a party for the families on the court.

It wasn't uncomfortable at all for Nora. The kids came briefly, and then went off to their own parties, where they would remain until morning. And Nora had been with her friends so often without Jeff that nothing seemed different this year at all. They ate a wonderful buffet, drank sparingly as people their age did these days, and played board games and cards. They laughed and gossiped, and everyone avoided the fact that this time next year, there would be strangers living in the Buckley house on Ansley Court. Midnight came. They had turned on the television to watch the ball drop in Times Square in New York. They sang "Auld Lang Syne" off-key, kissed each other, and then they had all gone off home again. New Year's was for kids.

Jill had flown back to North Carolina on the twenty-ninth. She had met a young man at Duke, a teaching associate in the doctoral program, and they planned to spend New Year's Eve together. Nora had driven her daughter to the airport, and while they were waiting for Jill's flight to be called, she had told her daughter of the settlement agreement she would sign on the second of January. "You are not to tell your brother," Nora warned Jill. "I'll tell him before he goes back. He and Maureen are taking the bus back up to State on the first, rather than waiting until the last minute. They both have papers due and the dorms are open on the first."

"It all stinks," Jill said bitterly. "How could he throw you out of the house?"

"Let this be a lesson to you, honey. Get as much as you can in your name before and after you marry. Don't be a trusting little dope like I was," Nora said.

"You weren't a trusting dope, Ma. You were innocent," Jill replied.

"Same thing, honey, where money and property are concerned," Nora laughed.

Her daughter's flight was called. Jill and her mother embraced, and Nora hugged her daughter perhaps a little harder than she usually did.

"What's that for?" Jill demanded, suspicious.

"I just love you," Nora responded, "and I don't know when I'm going to see you again. Can't a mother hug her grown kid?"

"I'll come home whenever you need me," Jill said. "Don't be a martyr, Ma. Call me, okay?" Then she turned and was gone.

"I will!" Nora called after her daughter.

Now New Year's Eve was over, and returning to her house, Nora went upstairs and packed up her son's belongings for his return to college. She had promised him she would do it if he would remain at Lily's house overnight and not try to drive home. "Too many drunks out tonight. Come home by eight, and I'll have breakfast for you before you take off. I'll even do your packing. Stick out all the stuff you want, okay?"

"Ma, you're the greatest!" he'd told her.

Nora smiled, remembering the words. She looked at all the stuff J. J. had put out on his bed, and wondered how it was all going to fit in his two duffels. Then she laughed. Wasn't she the world-champion packer? She was. When she had finished, she considered going to The Channel, but decided against it. If she lay down now, she could grab a nice nap before she had to get up, and fix her son a terrific going-back-to-college breakfast. She set her alarm for seven a.m. That would give her an hour.

J. J. stamped into the house at eight fifteen, looking slightly bleary-eyed. "I'll sleep on the bus ride up," he told her in answer to her raised eyebrow.

"Sit down," she told him, and then began bringing out the food she had prepared.

"Oh, Ma! Wow!" He gazed at the platter of fluffy scrambled eggs with both bacon and his favorite sausage links. "French-bread French toast!" He began filling his plate after grabbing first at the tall glass of cranberry juice and swallowing it half down.

Nora refilled it and sat down to join him. She smiled, pleased as he shoveled the eggs into his mouth, his eyes lighting up.

"You put cheese in them!" he exclaimed.

"You like them that way," she replied, helping herself to a teaspoon of eggs, two sausage links, and a piece of French toast. "There's soft butter and maple syrup for the French toast, J. J. Eat, and then we'll talk. I've got stuff to tell you before you take off."

"What's up?" he asked her.

"Eat first- talk later." She smiled, hoping he'd assume she was going to give him the usual back-to-school speech. When they had finished Nora suggested that they sit in the den where the fire was going.

"Yeah, the house has been a little cold, I've noticed. Have you had the furnace checked, Ma?" he wondered.

"I've had to keep the thermostat at sixty-eight during the day, and sixty-five at night," Nora told her son. "Your father isn't paying for the oil anymore, and I have to watch my pennies. You should have told me you were cold, J. J."

"I just wore more clothes"- he grinned-"but Jill sure bitched. She's gotten used to a North Carolina climate, I'm made of sterner stuff, Ma. Now, what up? You saw my first-semester grades. I've done great, and I promise I'll keep up the good work. Honest! I'm not even going to consider pledging a frat until next year. I know I'm a legacy at Dad's old house, but that's the one I'm not interested in, seeing how Dad turned out."

There was no easy way to do this, Nora thought bleakly. "The divorce settlement has been agreed upon in principle," she began. "I'm signing the papers tomorrow, J. J. Your dad is going to give me alimony for the next five years. Not much, but I'll be job hunting by spring, and so I'll manage. In five years' time I should be able to do without any help from anyone, don't you think?" She smiled at him. "And, honey, we've gotten your dad to pay for your dorm room until you graduate. You'll have to pay for your own meal plan, and if you want to move off of campus, he won't pay, but since you're on the soccer team, and on scholarship, I think you'll want to stay in the dorms."

"The house?" J. J. demanded to know. "He's selling it, isn't he?"

"Yes," Nora admitted. "I just don't have any option there. But Rick got me forty percent of the sales price. There's no mortgage on it, and Rick says I'll probably end up with almost four hundred thousand, honey. It's not bad. Really."

"When do we have to be out?" J. J. asked her.

"The house goes on the market April first," Nora said, "but Rick says I'll probably have at least two months after a sale before it closes, to move. Jill has said she'll come and help me pack, and you'll be here too."