“The winters aren't even bad either. It might be nice for you to come up whenever you have a chance, and the rent is reasonable enough.” He was ever the salesman, and Bernie smiled, anxious to leave the party.
“I think that would suit us just fine.”
“Did Frank just sell you a winery?” a familiar voice asked. Her laugh had a tinkling sound, like silver bells, and Bernie turned and saw the shining black hair and the blue eyes that had startled him wherever they met. It was Megan Jones and she looked very pretty. He realized now how tan she was. Her skin was dark, in sharp contrast to her light blue eyes. And she had worn a white peasant skirt and white es-padrilles with a bright red gypsy blouse. Suddenly she looked very beautiful and it made him uncomfortable. It was easier thinking of her in blue jeans and her starched white coat. This was much too accessible, and the silky smooth shoulders caught his eye, as he forced himself to look straight into her blue eyes. But that was no easier for him. Her eyes always made him think of Liz, and yet they were different. Bolder, older, wiser. She was a different kind of woman. And there was a compassion there which made her seem older than her years, and was useful in her profession. He tried to pull his eyes from her now, but was surprised to find that he couldn't.
“Frank just extended my lease for a while.” He spoke quietly, and she noticed that no matter how much his mouth smiled, his eyes didn't. They were quiet and sad, and told people to keep their distance. His grief was still too fresh to be shared and she easily sensed that as she watched him, thinking of his children.
“Does that mean you're going to be staying up here?” She looked interested as she sipped at a glass of local white wine.
“Just on weekends, I guess. The kids love it here. And Frank says it's beautiful in the fall.”
“It is. That's why I got stuck up here. It's the only place around here that gets some kind of autumn. The leaves turn just like they do back east, the whole valley turns red and yellow and it's really wonderful.” He tried to concentrate on what she said, but all he saw were her bare shoulders and her blue eyes, and she seemed to be looking deep into his eyes, as though she wanted to say more to him. It made him curious about her. He had been since he first met her.
“What made you stay out here?”
She shrugged, and her perfect bronze flesh beckoned him as he reached for another beer and frowned, trying to deny the attraction he felt toward her. “I don't know. I couldn't imagine going back to Boston and being serious for the rest of my life.” The mischief he had suspected danced in her eyes and he listened to the sound of her laughter.
“I suppose Boston can be that way. Very much so, in fact.” He looked terribly handsome as he chatted with her and she decided to risk asking him something about himself, despite what she already knew about him.
“And why are you in San Francisco and not New York?”
“A quirk of fate. The store I work for sent me out here to open their new branch out here.” He smiled thinking about it, and then his eyes clouded as he thought of why he'd stayed after that …because Liz was dying. “And then I got stuck here.” Their eyes met and held, and she understood him perfectly.
“Are you here to stay then?”
He shook his head and smiled at her again. “I don't think I'll be here for too much longer. Sometime in the next year I'll probably be going back to New York.” She looked instantly sorry, and in spite of himself it pleased him. And he was suddenly glad he had come to the party.
“How do the kids feel about moving back?”
“I don't know.” He looked serious. “It might be hard on Jane. She's always lived out here, and it'll be hard on her going to a new school and making new friends.”
“She'll adjust to it.” Megan was looking at him searchingly, wishing she knew more. He was a man who made you want to know where he had come from, and where he was heading to. He was the kind of man one seldom met, warm and strong and real, but untouchable. And after seeing him in her office the last time, she knew why. She would have liked to draw him out, to really talk to him, but she wasn't sure how. “What store brought you out, by the way?”
“Wolffs.” He said it modestly, as though it were an unimportant store, and she laughed with wide eyes. No wonder he looked like that. He had the instinctive style of a man who dealt daily with high fashion, yet in a very masculine, unselfconscious way that she liked. In fact there was a lot she liked about him.
She smiled warmly at Bernie then. “It's a wonderful store. I go there every few months just to stand on the escalator and drool at everything. Living up here doesn't give one much opportunity to think about things like that.”
“I've thought about that this summer.” He looked interested and pensive, as though sharing a secret project with her. “I've always wanted to have a store in a place like this. Kind of a small, simple country store, with everything from riding boots to evening wear, but really, really beautiful merchandise, the best quality. People up here don't have time to drive a hundred miles for a good-looking dress, and walking into an enormous store is inappropriate up here, but something small and simple and really good would be exciting here …wouldn't it?” He looked excited and so did she. It sounded like a terrific idea to both of them. “Only the best though,” he went on, “and very little of it. Maybe take one of the Victorians and turn it into a store.” He loved the idea the more he thought of it and then he laughed. “Pipe dreams. I guess once you're a merchant, it corrodes your thinking wherever you are.”
He laughed and she smiled at him. She liked the look in his eyes when he talked about it.
“Why don't you do something like that? We have absolutely nowhere to shop, except a few miserable stores that aren't worth bothering with. And there's a lot of money up here, especially in the summer months, and with the wineries there's actually money here all year round now.”
He narrowed his eyes, and then shook his head. He had afterthoughts of it, but to no avail. “I don't know where I'd find the time. And I'll be going back pretty soon. But it's fun to dream.” He hadn't dreamt in a long, long time. Of anything. Or anyone. And she could sense that. She enjoyed chatting with him, and she liked his idea. But more than that, she liked him. He was an unusual man. Warm and strong and decent. And he had the gentleness of the very strong, and she liked that.
He noticed her beeper then hooked to the back of her belt and he asked her about it. Talking about the store seemed frivolous to him although it interested her more than he realized. “I'm on duty four nights a week, and have office hours six days a week. That keeps me on my toes, when I'm not yawning in someone's face from lack of sleep.” They both laughed and he was impressed. It seemed conscientious of her to work that hard, and even have the beeper with her at a party. And he noticed that she had refused the wine after one glass. “We're short of doctors up here too, not just stores.” She smiled. “My partner and I are the only pediatricians within twenty miles, which may not sound like much, but it gets awfully busy sometimes, like the night I saw you at the hospital. You were my third earache that night. I saw the first one at home, and the other one left the hospital just before you arrived. It doesn't make for a quiet home life.” But she didn't seem unhappy about it. She looked content and satisfied and it was obvious that she enjoyed her work a great deal. She looked excited when she talked about it. And he had liked her style with Alexander.