Fine Things

by Danielle Steel

  “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.

  “One nice thing, you don't look it.” She barely looked thirty, let alone six years older. And it still amazed him to realize he'd be forty on his next birthday. Sometimes he couldn't help wondering where the time went.

  They pulled into his driveway an hour and a half after they'd left his house, and he went into the living room to start a fire while she put on water for coffee. He found her in the kitchen a few minutes later and smiled at her. It was an odd way to spend New Year's Eve but they were both happy. And he brought her a steaming mug of coffee as she sat in front of the fire with her legs crossed, looking comfortable and relaxed. She looked at him happily. “I'm glad you came up this weekend, Bernie. I needed to see you.”

  It was a nice thing to say, and he felt the same way about her. “Me too. It was so damn lonely in the house in the city, and this is a nice way to spend New Year's Eve. With someone you care about.” He was cautious about the words and she understood that.

  “I was thinking of staying up here this week while the kids are gone. I don't mind the commute.” Her face lit up as he said it.

  “That sounds wonderful.” She looked enthused as her beeper went off again, but this time it was only a five-year-old with a mild fever and she didn't have to go anywhere. She just gave standard instructions and told them she wanted to see the child in the morning, and to call her back if the little girl's fever went over a hundred and four.

  “How do you do that night after night? It must be exhausting.” But he knew how much she loved it. “You give so much of yourself, Meg.” That never ceased to impress him.

  “I have no one else to give it to, why not?” But she didn't look sad as she said it. It was something they had talked about before. In a way, she was married to her practice. But as she looked at him something strange happened. He suddenly couldn't keep within the boundaries he had set for himself before. Just hugging her had opened doors of desire he could no longer close. And as though it were the most natural thing in the world, he took her in his arms and kissed her. He kissed her for a long, long time, as though remembering how as he went along and liking it more and more as he did it. And when he stopped, they were both breathless. “Bernie? …” She wasn't sure what they were doing, or why. She was only sure of one thing. That she loved him.

  “Should I tell you I'm sorry?” He searched her eyes but saw only tenderness there and he kissed her again without waiting for her
answer.

  “Sorry for what?” She was dizzy now and he kissed her again as he smiled at her, and then held her tight. He couldn't stop anymore. He had wanted her for too long without even knowing he had, and now he wanted her more than he could control. He pulled away from her suddenly, and stood up, embarrassed to have her see the huge bulge in his pants. He had an uncontrollable, enormous erection.

  “I'm sorry, Meg.” He took a deep breath, and walked to the window, trying to remember Liz, but he found he couldn't, and that panicked him. He turned to Megan with the look of a lost child and she was standing just behind him.

  “It's okay, Bernie … no one's going to hurt you.” And as she said it, he took her in his arms again and began to cry as this time she held him, and he kept her close to him, as though needing to feel her warmth next to him, and then he looked into her eyes, his lashes damp, his face serious and strong.

  “I don't know what else I feel, Meg …but I know that I love you.”

  “I love you too …and I'm your friend. …” He knew it was true, and he reached out and cupped her breasts with his hands, and then slid them over the lean flat stomach, and into her jeans and his breath caught he wanted her so much. He unzipped her jeans, and touched her softly, as her eyes closed and she moaned softly. And then without a word of protest from her, he carried her to the couch, and they lay there, in front of the fire, discovering each other's bodies. Her body was pale and her flesh was a delicate white, like slivers of moonlight, and her breasts were small and high as he touched them and they hardened, and she gently opened his pants, and reached inside to find him. He sprang into her hands with hunger, and he pushed the rest of their clothes away as he pressed himself against her, and then inside her as she gave a sharp cry of desire, and suddenly they were both crying out, in desperation, in anguish, in passion, in joy, and she clung to him as she came, and he felt as though his whole life had ended as they soared through the sky and fell back to earth together.

  They lay a long time in silence, he with his eyes closed, stroking her gently, and she staring into the fire, thinking of how much she loved him.

  “Thank you.” The words were a whisper from him as he lay there. He knew how much she had given him, and how desperately he needed it. More than he had ever known. He needed her love and her warmth and her help now. He was letting go of Liz, and it was almost as painful as when she died, more perhaps because this was forever.

  “Don't say that. … I love you.”

  He opened his eyes, and when he saw her face he believed her. “I never thought I'd say that again.” He felt a relief he had never felt before. Relief and peace and safety just being with her. “I love you.” He whispered again.

  She smiled and held him close to her, like a lost child, and he fell asleep as she held him.

  Chapter 42

  They were both stiff when they woke up the next day, and Megan was cold, but they looked at each other anxiously, and when they saw that they had nothing to fear, they looked happy. It was New Year's Day, and Bernie teased her about the way they had spent New Year's Eve as she giggled.

  He went to put the coffee on, and she found an old bathrobe of his and put it on and followed him into the kitchen. Her long, thick black hair was disheveled and she looked beautiful as she sat down and cupped her chin in her hands as she leaned her elbows on the counter. “You're a beautiful man, you know.” He was the sexiest man she had ever slept with, and she had never felt for anyone what she did for him. But she knew it could be dangerous for her. He was an invitation to a broken heart. He hadn't gotten over his wife, and he was moving back to New York in a few months. He had told her so himself. And she was old enough to know that sometimes it was the honest ones who really hurt you.

  “What are you thinking about? You look awfully serious, pretty lady.”

  “I'm thinking how sorry I'm going to be when you go back to New York.” She was going to be honest with him too. She had to. She had survived her own tragedies over the years, and she had scars that could not be forgotten.

  “It's funny. I'm not looking forward to going back anymore. The first couple of years here, that was all I wanted.” He shrugged and handed her a mug of steaming black coffee, which was how she took it. “Now I wish I didn't have to. Why don't we not think about it for a while?”

  “It's going to hurt either way.” She smiled at him philosophically. “But I figure that for you, it's worth it.”

  “That's a nice thing to say.” He would have paid any price for her too. He was surprised by how much he loved her.

  “I thought you were terrific the night you came to the hospital with Alex. I told the nurse …but I thought you were married. I gave myself a good lecture on the way home about not getting heated up about my patients' fathers.” He laughed and she smiled. “I did. Honestly.”

  “Some speech. I wouldn't have called you cool last night.” She blushed and he came to sit next to her, wanting her again, wanting more than he could have …wanting her forever. They were living in a fairyland of love for the moment. But as he looked at her, he wanted more, and he gently opened the robe she had tied so carefully only moments before, and it fell to the floor as he led her to his room and they made love on his bed this time, and again before she finally took a shower and insisted that she had to get dressed and do rounds at the hospital with Patrick.

  “I'll come with you.” His eyes were happier than they had been in two years, and hers were warm as she turned to him, still wet from the shower.

  “Do you really want to come with me again?” She loved it, loved having him near her and sharing her life with him. But she also knew that that was dangerous. Sooner or later, he would have to leave her.

  “I can't stay away from you, Meg.” It was honest. And it was as though having lost one woman he loved, he couldn't bear to lose another, even if it was only for an hour.

  “Okay.”

  They were inseparable for the entire weekend, eating and sleeping and walking and running and laughing together, and making love three and four times a day. He was like a man who had been starved for love and sex and affection and couldn't get enough of her to make up for it. And for the entire week, he came back from the city early every day, and went to meet her at her office, bringing little presents and treasures and things to eat. It was like the early days with Liz, only it was different. They both knew it wouldn't last. One day he would go back to New York and it would be over. Only that was still a long time off, as long as Paul Berman didn't find anyone to replace him.

  And on their last night together before the children came home, he opened a bottle of Louis Roederer champagne and they drank it and she made dinner for him. Patrick was on call for her that night and they had a peaceful but passionate night in each other's arms until morning.

  He was taking the day off to be with her too, but they were due in at six o'clock, and at four he had to head for the city.

  “I hate to leave you.” They had barely been apart for ten days, and it depressed him to think of leaving her now. Things wouldn't be the same with the children around, especially Jane. She was too old and too observant to be fooled by lies, and they couldn't sleep together openly, without upsetting her terribly and violating the proprieties they both believed in. They would have to go away somewhere if they wanted to do that, or he would have to sleep at her house and leave at six in the morning to slip back before the children got up. “I'm going to miss you so damn much, Meg.” He almost felt like crying and she kissed him as he said it.

  “I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here. Waiting for you.” The way she said it touched him. But he had filled a spot in her soul that had been empty for a long, long time. She knew just how deeply she loved him, maybe more than she could ever tell him, and she knew she had to love him with open arms. She had no right to cling to him, and she had promised herself not to. “I'll see you this weekend, my love.” But it wouldn't be the same now. They both knew it, and he promised to call that night once t
he children were in bed. But as he stood waiting for them at the airport, he felt as though he had lost something very dear to him, and he wanted to run back to her and make sure it was still there. But it was only when he went back to the house, with Nanny Pip and the children, that it hit him.

  He was honestly looking for something this time. A box that Jane swore he had, with some old photographs of Grandma and Grampa. She wanted to make an album for them as a present, and he opened Liz' closet, and suddenly it was as though she were standing there, reproaching him for what he'd done with Megan. He felt as though he had cheated on her and he slammed the door, and felt breathless as he left the room without the photographs Jane wanted. He could no longer face Liz' closet.

  “I don't have them.” His face was pale beneath the beard. What had he done? What had he done to Liz? Had he forgotten her? Was that it? He had sinned. He had sinned awfully. And he was sure that God would punish him. He had betrayed her.

  “Yes, you do have those pictures,” Jane persisted. “Grandma said so.”