“Can't see yourself doing what?” she asked, as he started the car and backed down her driveway.

“Being married and having kids. You make it look so effortless, but I know damn well it isn't. You have to be good at it. It's an art form. It's a lot tougher than practicing medicine, from all I know.”

“You learn it as you go along. They teach you.”

“It's not as simple as that, Liz, and you know it. Most kids act like juvenile delinquents, and wind up on drugs, or something close to it.

You're damn lucky to have five kids like that,” and he included Jamie in the compliment just as she did. He was a terrific kid, and despite his challenges, he only took a little more care and attention than the others. She had to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't accidentally hurt himself, or do something dangerous, or get lost.

“I think you've got some funny ideas about kids,” she said as they drove along. “They're not all little hoodlums, you know.”

“No, but a lot of them are, and their mothers are worse,” he said matter-of-factly, and she laughed.

“Should I get out of the car now before you find out the truth about me, or will you trust me through dinner?”

“You know what I mean,” he insisted. “How many marriages do you know that work, really work?” he asked bluntly, sounding like a true cynic, and a confirmed bachelor.

“My marriage worked,” she said simply. “We were very happy for a very long time.”

“Well, most people aren't, and you know it,” he said, trying to convince her.

“No, you're right, most people aren't that happy, but some are.”

“Damn few,” he said, as they reached the restaurant, and she looked at him cautiously once they were seated at their table.

“How did you get such terrible views about marriage, Bill? Was it as bad as all that?”

“Worse. By the time it was over, we hated each other. I haven't seen her since, and wouldn't want to. And she'd probably hang up on me, if I called her. That's how bad it was. And I don't think we were the exception.” It was obvious that he believed what he was saying, although Liz didn't.

“I think you were,” she said calmly.

“If we were, then you'd be out of business.” She laughed at that, and they ordered a mushroom-and-pepperoni pizza with olives on it. It sounded good to both of them, and when it came, it was delicious. They dove into it, and had eaten roughly half when they decided they'd had enough, and the waitress served them coffee.

They had talked about a lot of things, medicine, the law, the years he had spent in New York during his residency, and how much he liked it, and she talked about going to Europe with Jack and loving it, particularly Venice. They touched on a wide variety of subjects, but she was still intrigued by what he'd said about marriage and children. He obviously had very strong opinions on the subject. And she felt sorry for him. He had deprived himself of a way of life she cherished. She wouldn't have given up the years of her marriage for anything, and certainly not her children.

Without them, she knew her life would be empty, as she suspected his was. All he really cared about was his work, and the people he took care of and worked with. It was a lot, but not enough for a whole life, in her opinion. But they didn't bring up the subject again. Instead, their conversation turned to films.

He had very eclectic tastes, he liked foreign films, and arty movies, as well as some big commercial ones. She admitted that she enjoyed the kind of movies she saw with her children, they were all very commercial films, and in Peter's case, action movies. And she used to love going with them. It reminded her of how little she had done with her children, out in the world, since Jack died. She was always there for them at home, but she seldom went out with them anymore, and she promised herself silently that she would in future. Bill had gotten her rolling again, and after the film they saw that night, she promised herself she was going to take the kids soon. It was a long time since they had done something like that together, and it was time now.

She invited him in for a drink when they got home, but he said he had to get up early the next day. He had to be at the hospital at six, and she was touched that he had stayed out so late with her. It was after eleven o'clock, and more likely than not, he'd be tired in the morning. She apologized to him for it and he smiled.

“I think you're worth it.” She was surprised by his words, but she was glad he said them. She had had a good time with him. She thanked him, he promised to call her again soon, and she went inside as he drove away. Peter and Megan were still up, and she could see almost before she closed the door that she was about to be subjected to the inquisition.

“Did he kiss you?” Megan asked accusingly, with a tone of disapproval and revulsion.

“Of course not. I scarcely know him.”

“That wouldn't be cool on the first date,” Peter said wisely, and his mother laughed.

“I'm sorry to disappoint you guys, we're just friends. I think he's very careful not to get involved. He cares more about his work. And I care more about you. You have nothing to worry about, Megan,” she said firmly.

“I'll bet you ten bucks he kisses you next time,” Peter said with a look of amusement.

“You won't win that one,” she told him. “Besides, who tells you there'll be a next time? Maybe he had a lousy time and won't call me.”

“I doubt it,” Megan said glumly. She could see disaster ready to strike them, in the form of Bill Webster.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Meg. I wouldn't waste time worrying about it. Besides, I have a trial next week that I'll have to work on.”

“Good. You can stay home with us. You don't need a man, Mom.”

“Not as long as I have you, is that it, Megan?” But she had to admit, it had been nice being out with Bill, talking about grown-up things and learning about him. There had been just enough of an undercurrent of mutual admiration. They didn't want anything from each other, they just liked each other, and they'd had a good time. Even if she never heard from him again, Liz told herself, it was nice being with him, and feeling like a woman, and not just a mother. It was nice being with someone who wanted her to have a good time, and was interested in talking and listening to her.

She sent Megan and Peter off to bed then, and went to bed herself. Jamie was already in her bed, waiting for her. He still slept with her sometimes, and it was nice being in bed with him too. And as she fell asleep beside her child, she wondered if Megan was right, and she didn't need a man. But she wasn't quite as convinced as she had been. It had been nearly nine months since she lay beside Jack, and had made love with him. It seemed like an eternity to her now, and for the moment at least, she had no real desire to change that. In her mind, that part of her life was over forever.

And as he went to sleep that night, Bill Webster was thinking of her, and how much fun she had been. He wasn't sure what would come of it, but there was no doubt in his mind, he liked her.





Chapter 9

Bill called her again later that week, and invited her to the theater this time. They drove to the city, and had dinner there, and afterwards he came in for a glass of wine, and they talked for a while, about the theater, and books, and she told him about a difficult case she was working on, involving a custody suit and a child she suspected was being abused. She had reported the parents to child protective services, and they had discovered she was right. In some ways, it presented a moral dilemma for her, and she wished that she could represent the child and not the parents.

“Why can't you?” he asked matter-of-factly. It seemed so simple to him, but for her it wasn't.

“It's a little more complicated than that. I'd have to be appointed by the court to represent the child, and I wasn't. I'm considered tainted because I represent the father. And they're right. It would be a conflict of interest for me to represent the child, although I'd much prefer it to representing her father.”

“I had a case like that, a kid in the trauma unit who they claimed had been beaten up by a neighbor. They wanted to bring charges against him and they told a very convincing story. I was suitably outraged. Turns out the father was beating the child, and he had brain-damaged her by the time she got to me. There wasn't a hell of a lot we could do about it. They took the child away from them, once she got out of the hospital, but she begged the judge to go back to them. I was afraid the father would kill her. The judge sent her to foster care for a few months, but eventually the child went back to her parents.”

“And then what happened?” He had piqued her interest.

“I don't know. I lost track of them, which seemed too bad. My work is so immediate and so acute, once people get well, I lose them. It's the nature of the beast in trauma and emergency. You do what you can in the immediacy of the moment, and then they fade out of your lives.”

“Don't you miss having a long-term relationship with your patients?”

“Not really. I think that's part of what I like about it. I don't have to worry about solving problems that aren't really mine to solve, or can't be. This way it's much simpler.” He was clearly someone who didn't want long-term relationships of any kind. But she liked him in spite of it. And every now and then, when he said things like that, she felt sorry for him. His life, and philosophies, were everything hers weren't. Everything about her life was long-term and deeply involved. There were clients who stayed in touch with her for years after their divorces. It was just a difference in style, and clearly, she and Bill Webster were very different. But it was equally clear that they liked each other.

It was late again when he left that night. He sat and talked to her till nearly one o'clock, and he was sorry when he left that he couldn't stay longer to talk to her. But they both had to get up early the next day. She had to go to court, and he was due on duty at the trauma unit at seven in the morning.

And Peter had a sly look in his eye when he asked her at breakfast the next day if he'd won his bet.

“No, you lost this time,” she smiled, and laughed.

“You mean he didn't kiss you, Mom?” Peter looked disappointed and Megan made a face of utter outrage.

“You're disgusting,” she accused him. “Whose side are you on?”

“Mom's,” he said clearly, and then he turned back to his mother. “Would you tell the truth if he did, or would you lie just to win the ten bucks?” He loved teasing her, and she laughed as she made them all pancakes.

“Peter, how insulting! I have more integrity than to lie to my own flesh and blood to win a bet.” She handed him a plate of pancakes and poured syrup on it.

“I think you're lying, Mom,” Peter accused her.

“I'm not. I told you, we're just friends, and I like it like that.”

“Keep it that way, Mom,” Rachel added. Another country heard from. Liz looked at her youngest daughter with interest.

“When did you get interested in this?”

“Peter says he likes you, and Meg says you're going to marry him.” In some ways, she was sophisticated for eleven. She was nearly twelve, but not quite. She had just turned eleven when her father died, and like all of them, she had grown up a lot in the past year, as had their mother.

“Let me reassure you all,” she said with a broad smile, as they finished their breakfast, “two dinners do not constitute an engagement.”

“It's too soon for you to be going out,” Annie added, looking at her sternly.

“And when do you think it would be appropriate?” her mother asked her with interest.

“Never,” Megan answered for her younger sister.

“You're all nuts,” Peter said, as he got up from the breakfast table. “Mom can do whatever she wants. And Dad would think it's fine. Dad would be dating by now, if it had happened to Mom instead,” and she realized as she listened that by the grace of God it could have. And she thought Peter's comment interesting, as she mulled it over on her way to work. Would Jack have been dating by then if she had died instead? She had never thought about it, but she suspected he might. He had a healthy attitude about life, and too much joie de vivre to get buried in a closet, mourning her. Peter was right. Jack probably would have been dating. It made her feel better about seeing Bill Webster.

He called her in the office that day, and asked her to go to the movies with him again the following weekend. They seemed to be seeing a lot of each other suddenly, and she didn't mind. She enjoyed him.