Jenny studied him thoughtfully, realizing how difficult Danny's accident must be for Luke. Having no medical knowledge herself, she accepted her limitations, but Luke couldn't do that.
"You're doing as much as you can," she said. "That's all you can do. Life is filled with ironies. Sometimes, I get angry and think that God is having a big joke at our expense, but I expect we make our own jokes, by simply believing that we actually have control over our lives."
Luke pulled Jenny to one side of the hall as a woman came out of a room, pushing a little girl in a wheelchair. The girl's right leg was held straight out in a long leg cast. It looked awkward and uncomfortable, but there was a smile on the child's face.
"Want to sign my leg?" she asked Luke.
"Kelly, you don't even know them," the woman said. "I'm sorry. She's determined to break some school record on cast signatures."
Luke grinned. "It's all right. I think I even have a pen." He pulled a pen out of his inside pocket. "Who should I write this to?"
"Kelly Jamison. I'm eight years old today."
"Then I better sign 'Happy Birthday.' "
Luke finished his greeting with a big smile, then handed the pen to Jenny. She added her own words of encouragement, and they stood together as the girl continued down the hallway, racking up signatures.
"That was nice of you," Jenny commented.
Luke stared after the girl with a thoughtful expression.
"Is something wrong?" Jenny asked.
He turned to her with a curious smile. "I just realized that I enjoyed that. I never liked working with patients in medical school. I never knew what to say to make them feel better. I felt inadequate."
"You?" Jenny looked at him in surprise. "Why would you feel that way?"
"I never knew how to relate to people."
"Well, you're certainly great with Danny, and that little girl, too. Maybe you should have gone into pediatrics."
"I never considered anything but biotech. Of course, I'm too old to make such a major change now."
"Oh, come on, Luke. You may have accomplished more in the past ten years than some people have done in their lifetime, but you're still pretty young. If you want to make a change, make one."
"I'll think about my life later -- when Danny's better."
Jenny leaned against the wall. She knew it was time to set Luke free from his self-imposed guilt trip. Danny might be his flesh and blood, but he had another family now and a wife to consider.
"If you have to spend more time at home, Luke, I understand," Jenny said finally. "This must be difficult on your wife."
Luke's expression grew tense. "Denise understands this is where I need to be."
"Does she?"
"Well, maybe not."
Jenny tried to be fair. "I'm sure it's not easy for her to accept the fact that you have a son. I don't know how I would feel if I were in her place."
"You? You would joyfully give every bit of love you could to both your husband and his child. I know you, Jenny. You have a big heart."
"A big, foolish heart."
"Say, do you want to get out of here for a while?" Luke asked. "Let's take a drive. Get some fresh air."
A tempting thought. She had begun to know the hospital vending machines better than her own refrigerator. "Where would you want to go?"
"Let's go to San Francisco. We can check out the Christmas tree in Union Square, stop by F.A.O. Schwartz and buy Danny the best Christmas present we can find."
"Danny has expensive taste. Takes after his father."
"The sky's the limit."
Luke took her hand. Jenny felt a tingle at his touch. She hesitated, thinking of Luke's wife, and Alan, who she had promised to at least talk to sometime tonight, and Merrilee, who was expecting her daily call, and ...
"You're thinking too much," Luke said with a smile. "When did you get into such a bad habit?"
"You must be rubbing off on me. There are so many people I need to keep in touch with."
"Not tonight. Give yourself a break. Come with me."
Three simple words, the same ones she had said to him all those years ago. And he had come. She was crazy for even considering a night out with Luke. Yet, here she stood, with his fingers wrapped around hers, the connection between them stronger now than it had ever been.
Danny would have wanted her to say yes, and so she did.
* * *
An hour later, Jenny flung her head all the way back so she could see the top of the fifty-foot Christmas Tree in Union Square. The lights were a dazzling display of color.
"It's magnificent," she said.
"Overkill, I think."
She punched Luke playfully in the shoulder. "Just what I'd expect from a man who has no romance in his soul."
"I have romance in my soul. I can appreciate this moment. In fact, I even have a present for you."
Jenny turned to him in surprise. He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a package.
"What's that for?"
"Your birthday is today."
"Oh, my God. I completely forgot." She looked at him in astonishment. "You remembered my birthday after all these years?"
"Actually, I had a little help. Open the box."
Jenny's hands curled around the bright red ribbon on the small white box. "I can't imagine why you'd buy me a present."
"Open it, Jenny. You know you love presents."
Her lips curved into an involuntary smile, and she couldn't help being pleased at the gesture. "You're right. I do love presents."
She pulled off the ribbon and opened the box. Inside was a ceramic angel pin. Jenny gasped at the sight. It was the angel she had seen in the country store up on Skyline Drive. The angel with the backward-turned baseball cap, the mischievous expression, and the budding wings that reminded her of Danny.
"No," she whispered.
"Do you like it?"
She shook her head as tears welled up in her eyes.
"Jenny. I'm sorry. I thought it was what you wanted." Luke pulled her closer as they were jostled by the crowd gathering in Union Square.
Jenny was barely aware of their movement. At that moment, she felt completely alone in the cold, dark night with the winking angel dancing like a firefly in the light of the moon.
Danny, her little angel. Not really, of course, because he wasn't an angel, but a child, an obstinate, impatient, somewhat selfish child, but all hers.
Jenny stared down at the angel pin, at the face, the tiniest markings on the cheek that looked suspiciously like freckles, and began to cry. The tears flowed easily, effortlessly. Luke pulled her into his arms and held her. He murmured an apology. She didn't hear it. Her fingers traced the face on the pin, over and over again, and finally, she began to feel peace.
She pulled away from Luke to look down at the pin. "It's beautiful."
Luke sent her a wary look. "I can take it back."
"No, you can't take it back." She clutched it to her heart. "It's mine, now."
"I didn't think you liked it."
"I love it. How did you know, Luke? I saw this with Danny a couple of weeks ago. He laughed at me, because I love pins. I make jewelry, you know, and I'm always checking out the competition. But this pin seemed so unique, so different that it captured my imagination. I couldn't stop looking at it."
"I'm glad you like it."
"How did you know?"
Luke looked away, and Jenny wondered at his reaction. He was evading her question, and she didn't understand why. "Luke?"
"How about dinner? Are you hungry?"
"You didn't answer my question."
"Can I buy you dinner anyway?"
"You're being awfully mysterious."
"A man's prerogative."
"I think you've got that backward, but okay." She smiled, suddenly ravenous, hungry for food, for life. A sense of joy filled her soul every time she rubbed her fingers over the angel's face.
"He looks like Danny, doesn't he?" Luke said. "I t
hought that the first time I saw it."
"He looks like you."
"No, Danny may have my eyes, my hair color, but he's got your soul, and that's the best part of him."
Jenny stood on tiptoe and impulsively kissed Luke on the mouth. He froze for a moment, then kissed her back. His mouth moved against hers with a passion and need that went way beyond her simple, spontaneous gesture.
Her lips opened under his, and his tongue tasted every inch of her mouth. It was delicious, breathtaking, and hauntingly familiar. Crowds of people moved around them. Horns honked. Cars backfired. People swore, but all Jenny could feel was Luke's arms around her waist, his mouth on hers.
She opened her mouth for air, and Luke kissed the corner of her lips, her cheeks, the sensitive space behind her ears. When he lifted his head to look at her, their breath curled between them, smoky whispers chilled by the night air.
Luke cupped her face with his hands. He studied her with deep concentration, as if he were memorizing the lines of her face, the lines borne of laughter, sadness, and age. Their youthful passion seemed lukewarm compared to what burned between them now. Their emotions were much more complex. With maturity had come pain, sorrow, and the knowledge that this kind of passion was not meant to be taken for granted.
"Jenny, Jenny." He murmured her name. "I can't get you out of my head."
"You have to." She took a deep breath, knowing it was time to end the connection between them. "You're married, Luke. This is wrong. You shouldn't be kissing me; I shouldn't be kissing you. I'm sorry I started this."
Luke dropped his hands. Jenny stepped back, still breathless, but more in control.
"I'm having a hard time remembering that I'm married," Luke said.
"Me, too," she admitted.
"I've been faithful to my wife."
"That's good." She looked away from him, feeling awkward in the face of such a personal revelation. She didn't want to think about Luke having sex with anyone but her. "Do you want to get something to eat?"
"Denise had an affair last year with a tennis pro," Luke said. "The guy was twenty-two, young, virile."
"Luke, I don't want to hear this. It's your personal business."
"Denise thought I didn't know. I would have had to be stupid not to know. I thought about confronting her, but I didn't want to deal with it. I probably brought it on myself, working long hours, ignoring her."
"This is between you and Denise. I don't think she'd appreciate you telling me about it."
"I know, it's not your problem." Luke turned away.
"I didn't mean it that way." She put a hand on his arm. "I just don't want to come between you, Luke. But I am sorry that things haven't worked out for you."
Luke shrugged. "Why should you be sorry? We make our beds, and we lie in them. If I didn't know that before, I certainly know it now."
* * *
Merrilee walked up to the front door of her husband's advertising agency. It was after seven, and Richard was supposed to be meeting a client. She didn't believe it for a second.
At the door, she paused. Through the glass, she could see the door to Richard's office, but nothing else. The conference room was beyond that, so she had no idea if an actual meeting was in progress and if she was about to embarrass the hell out of herself.
Merrilee shook her head, not knowing why she was doing this. After watching her kids shrug off her dinner, rushing to the hospital only to find Jenny gone, then seeing Danny lying in a state so near to death it terrified her, she had found herself driving to Richard's office.
Danny was dying.
The truth finally hit her in the face, shocking her into action. If Danny could die, if his life could be erased so quickly, how could she let her life go on so dismally? How could she keep pretending that things would get better, that Richard would get over his midlife crisis and come back to her? It wasn't going to happen. Not without some help.
Merrilee realized now that she had been fighting the symptoms, not the cause, railing against Richard's late meetings instead of confronting him and acknowledging his unfaithfulness.
Even saying the word to herself was difficult. It meant admitting she had failed, and it wasn't easy for her to face failure. She didn't want to face it now.
Her hand dropped from the doorknob. If she went home, Richard would never know she had come. They could go on pretending to be the perfect couple. What on earth could come of her finding him with some woman? She would have to think about divorce, selling the house, breaking up her children's lives. No, it was absurd.
Merrilee walked back to the elevator and pushed the button. The elevator door opened. She hesitated. After a moment the doors closed without her.
It was Danny's fault. Watching Jenny try desperately to hang on to her son had made Merrilee realize how tenuous a hold they all had on life. Watching her nephew fight for every breath had awakened her to a sense of priority that she had never felt before.
Having the perfect home, being a mother and wife were all she had ever wanted. To an outsider, she had exactly that. But she knew differently. And it hurt. Or maybe it just hurt more now. Since Danny's accident, every emotion, every nerve seemed keener, closely attuned to pain. Two weeks ago, she wouldn't have dreamed of doing this. It was hardly dignified. Still, she had to know the truth.
With strengthened resolve, Merrilee entered the office. She stopped in front of Richard's door, hearing voices -- a woman and a man.
Merrilee took a deep breath and flung open the door. Richard jumped up from the couch, hastily buttoning the top two buttons on his shirt.
His twenty-four-year-old secretary, Blair, a gorgeous blonde with big breasts and long legs, also got to her feet. There were two cartons of Chinese food on the coffee table, along with two glasses of wine and an empty bottle.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to know there was more than work going on.
All the nights she had sat alone at home waiting for him raced through her mind. She had been loyal and trusting, and he had played her for a fool.
"My God, Merrilee. What the hell are you doing here?" Richard demanded. Fury was written in every line of his face, along with some other emotion Merrilee didn't have time to define.
"What the hell are you doing with her?" Anger boiled over at Richard's attack. He was in the wrong. She was in the right. Damn him.
"She's my secretary. We're working on a project."
"Like hell you are. You bastard. I'm glad to know you take your marriage vows so seriously."
"You take them seriously enough for both of us. Only the part about keeping your husband happy -- "
"Shut up. Shut up. And you -- get out." Mortified at Richard's taunt, Merrilee grabbed Blair by the arm and literally threw her out of the office. "Now, you listen to me," she said to Richard. "You've been cheating on me for months. Do you think I'm stupid? You arrogant, son of a bitch -- "
"Stop it, Merrilee. You're acting hysterical."
"Hysterical?" she yelled. "You think I'm hysterical?"
Richard took a step back. "Just calm down."
"I don't want to calm down. I want your head on a fucking platter."
Richard's jaw dropped open in astonishment. Merrilee walked over to his desk, picked up his coffee cup and hurled it at his head. Richard ducked, and the cup smashed against the wall.
"Jesus Christ, Merrilee. What are you doing?"
Merrilee gathered all the papers off his desk and dumped them into the trash can.
"Hey, those are important."
She ignored him, pulling out the desk drawers and systematically dumping them out on the floor. It felt good to trash Richard's office. He was ruining her life. Why the hell shouldn't he suffer a little bit?
"Now, Merrilee, let's talk about this -- at home," he added. "This is my office. My business."
"Funny, you didn't look like you were conducting business a minute ago." Merrilee headed to the coffee table. The red lipstick around the rim of the wineglass drove her furt
her over the edge. She picked up the glass and tossed the contents into Richard's face. "I think you're the one who needs to cool off."
Richard sputtered, wiping his face with his shirtsleeve. Before he could recover completely, Merrilee yanked at his trousers and dumped the second glass of wine down his pants. He gasped as the cold liquid hit his skin.
"Goddammit," he shouted. "You're fucking crazy."
"You bet I am. I'm sick and tired of this, Richard. You've been taunting me for months. I won't take it anymore. You want a divorce, you've got one."
The words were out of her mouth before she could even consider the seriousness of what she had said. But as they echoed around the room, some of her anger disappeared, replaced by fear. Richard stared at her in shock.
"A divorce? You want a divorce?"
Merrilee wrapped her arms around her body. "I was hoping you'd get over this midlife crisis, or whatever it is you're going through. Apparently, that's not going to happen. I can't put up with any more of your cheating."
"I didn't think you'd noticed. I was beginning to think you didn't care one way or the other."
"I don't."
"Liar."
His muttered word drew her head up. "I don't care about you. Right now I hate you."
"If you hated me, you wouldn't be here. My God, Merrilee, I've never seen you act like this. You're always so cool, so controlled."
"I'm human, Richard. And I have feelings. How could you do this to me? To us? I loved you. I gave you everything."
"Merrilee ..." He reached out to touch her. She knocked his hand away.
"Leave me alone. Just leave me alone." She ran out of the office and didn't stop running until she reached her car. With shaky fingers, she slipped the key into the lock and got inside. She made it out of the parking lot and down one block before the tears came. Then she pulled over and cried, long, cleansing tears that had been building up for a lifetime.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Luke pulled the car into the parking lot of the Marina Green. It was almost midnight, and the lot was empty, save for a few tourists enjoying a spectacularly clear winter night. Jenny opened her door and got out. Luke followed her down to the sea wall where the waves from the San Francisco Bay lapped against the shore.
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