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And Mel was quick to pick up the conversational ball and keep it rolling. “I have a wonderful Central American woman to help me with my girls.”

“How old are they?”

“Almost sixteen. In July.”

“Both of them?” He looked surprised and this time Mel laughed.

“Yes. They're twins.”

“Identical?” He smiled at the idea.

“No, fraternal. One is a svelte redhead, who people say looks like me, but I'm not sure she does. And the other one I know doesn't look like me at all, she's a voluptuous blonde who gives me heart failure every time she goes out.” She smiled and Peter laughed.

“I've come to the conclusion, in the last two years, that it's easier to have sons.” His smile faded as he thought of Pam. “My daughter was twelve and a half when Anne died. I think that the loss compounded with the onset of puberty has been almost too much for her.” He sighed. “I don't suppose adolescence is easy for any child, but Mark was so easy at her age. Of course he had us both.”

“That makes a difference, I guess.” There was a long pause as he searched her eyes.

“You're alone with the twins?” She had said something about that, hadn't she?

Mel nodded now. “I've been alone with them since they were born.”

“Their father died?” He looked as though he hurt for her. He was that kind of man.

“No.” Mel's voice was calm. “He walked out on me. He said he never wanted kids, and that's exactly what he meant. As soon as I told him I was pregnant, that was it. He never even saw the twins.”

Peter Hallam looked shocked. He couldn't imagine anyone doing a thing like that. “How awful for you, Mel. And you must have been very young.”

She nodded with a small smile. It didn't really hurt anymore. It was all a dim memory now. A simple fact of her life. “I was nineteen.”

“My God, how did you manage alone? Did your parents help you out?”

“For a while. I dropped out of Columbia when the girls were born, and eventually I got a job, a whole bunch of jobs”—she smiled—“and eventually I wound up as a receptionist for a television network in New York, and a typist in the newsroom after that, and the rest is history, I guess.” She looked back on it now with ease, but he sensed what a grueling climb it had been, and the beauty of it was that it hadn't burned her out. She wasn't bitter or hard, she was quietly realistic about the past, and she had made it in the end. She was at the top of the heap, and she didn't resent the climb.

“You make it sound awfully simple now, but it must have been a nightmare at times.”

“I guess it was.” She sighed, and watched the city slide by. “It's actually hard to remember it now. It's funny, when you're going through it, there are times when you think you won't survive, but somehow you do, and looking back it never seems quite so hard.” He wondered, as he listened, if one day he would feel that way about losing Anne, but he doubted that now.

“You know, one of the hardest things for me, Mel, is knowing that I'll never be both a mother and father to my kids. And they need both, especially Pam.”

“You can't expect that much of yourself. You're only you, and you give the best you have to give. More than that you can't do.”

“I guess not.” But he didn't sound convinced. And he glanced over at her again. “You've never thought of remarrying for the sake of the girls?” It was different for her, he told himself, she didn't have the memory of someone she had loved to overcome, or perhaps she had loved him but there was anger she could hang on to and in that way she was far freer than he, and for her, also, it had been a much longer time.

“I don't think marriage is for me. And I think the girls understand that now. They used to bug me about it a lot, when they were younger. And yeah, there were times when I felt guilty too. But we were better off alone than with the wrong man, and the funny thing is”—she smiled sheepishly at him—“sometimes I even think I like it better like this. I'm not sure how I'd adjust to someone sharing the girls with me now. Maybe that's an awful thing to admit, but sometimes that's what I feel. I've gotten very possessive about them I guess.”

“That's understandable if you've been alone with them for all this time.”

He sat back against his seat and looked at her.

“Maybe. Jessica and Val are the best things in my life. They're a couple of terrific kids.” She was all mother hen as they exchanged a smile and he got out of the car to open her door. She slid off the seat and looked up at him with a smile. They were in posh Beverly Hills, only two blocks from the illustrious Rodeo Drive. And Melanie looked around. The Bistro Gardens was a beautiful restaurant that seemed to combine art deco and a riot of plants leading to the patio outside, and everywhere she looked there were the chic and the rich and the fashionably dressed. Lunch was still in full swing. She saw faces she knew at several tables, movie stars, an aging television queen, a literary giant who made the best-seller lists every time, and then suddenly as she looked around, she noticed that people were looking at her, she saw two women whisper something to a third, and when the headwaiter approached Peter with a smile, his eyes took in Melanie too.

“Hello, Doctor. Hello, Miss Adams, it's nice to see you again.” She couldn't remember ever seeing him before, but it was obvious that he knew who she was and wanted her to know. She was amused as she followed him to a table beneath an umbrella outside and Peter looked at her with a questionable glance.

“Do people recognize you all the time?”

“Not always. It depends on where I am. I suppose that in a place like this they do. It's their stock-in-trade.” She glanced at the well-filled tables all around, the Bistro Gardens catered to the moneyed, the chic, the celebrated, the successful, a host of important names. And then she smiled at Peter again. “It's like being around Dr. Hallam at the hospital where everyone was staring at you. It depends on where you are.”

“I suppose.” But he had never noticed people staring at him. He could see a number of people watching Melanie now, and she handled it very well. She didn't seem aware of the curious stares at all.

“This is a wonderful place.” She breathed a sigh in the balmy air, and turned so that she would get the sunshine on her face. It really felt like summer here, and one didn't have the feeling of being trapped in the city, which could happen in New York. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sun. “This is just right.” And then she opened them again. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He sat back in his seat with a smile. “I didn't think the cafeteria was quite your style.”

“It could be, you know. Most of the time, it is. But that's what makes something like this such a treat. When I'm working I don't have much time to eat, or to bother with the niceties of a delightful place like this.”

“Neither do I.”

They exchanged a grin, and Melanie raised an eyebrow with a smile. “Do you suppose we both work too hard, Doctor?”

“I suspect we do. But I also suspect we both love what we do. That helps.”

“It sure does.” She looked peaceful as she looked at him, and he felt more comfortable than he had in almost two years.

As she watched him, she realized again that she admired his style. “Will you go back to the hospital again today?”

“Of course. I want to do some more tests on Pattie Lou.” Mel frowned at his words, thinking of the child.

“Is it going to be rough for her?”

“We'll make it as easy as we can. Surgery is really her only chance.”