She made her way to the main floor again, looking at the displays, watching the people, and finally she stopped to buy a box of chocolates for Faye. They were a suitably festive gift for the last day of therapy. She wrote on the card only, “Thank you. Love, Marie.” What more could she say? Thank you for helping me forget Michael? Thank you for helping me survive? Thank you … As she played with the thoughts, she suddenly stopped. She looked as though she had seen a ghost, and when the saleswoman handed her back her charge card, she only continued to stare. Ben Avery stood just a few feet away, looking over some very expensive women's luggage. Marie remained where she was for what seemed like an eternity, and then edged closer. She had to see him, touch him, hear what he was saying. For an insane moment, she wondered if he would recognize her; she prayed that he would, and then she knew that he wouldn't and forced herself to be glad. This way she could watch him, stand near him, for as long as she wanted. She wondered how long it had been since he'd seen Michael, if he'd taken the job with the firm. She sidled up next to him and began fingering the suede attaché cases next to the pieces he was examining. Her eyes never left his face, and then suddenly he turned to look at her and smiled his old easy smile in her direction. But there wasn't even a glimmer of recognition; instead he looked her over admiringly and then reached out a hand to Fred.
“Hi there, little fella.” The voice was so familiar that it made her feel almost weak, but she only stood there, feeling the warmth of his hand near hers as he patted the dog. She never would have imagined that just seeing a friend of Michael's would do this to hen. But this was the first link she'd had with him since … She blinked back the tears and looked at the bags Ben had been looking over. Without thinking her hand went to the chain around her neck that he had given her on her wedding night. She still wore it.
“Buying Christmas gifts?” She felt foolish making chitchat with him, but she wanted to talk to him, and once again wondered if he'd recognize her, this time by her voice. But even she knew how different she sounded now. And again he looked at her with the blank easy smile passed between two strangers.
“Yes, for a young lady, and I can't decide what to get.”
“What's she like?”
“Terrific.”
Marie laughed. It was so like Ben. She almost wanted to ask him if it was serious this time, but she couldn't.
“She's got sort of red hair, and she's … about your height.” He was looking Marie over again, and his eyes roamed over her figure almost hungrily. She didn't know whether to laugh or be upset, it was all so typically Ben.
“Are you sure she wants luggage?” It seemed a dull gift to Marie. She was hoping for something more exciting from Peter. Like maybe a new lens.
“We're going to be taking a trip together, so I thought … And the trip is kind of a surprise. I want to hide the tickets in the luggage.”
Five hundred dollars on imported luggage to hide some tickets? Benjamin Avery, such extravagance! The last two years must have been good to him. “She's a lucky girl.”
“No, I'm the lucky guy.”
“Is this a honeymoon?” Marie was embarrassed at her own nosiness, but it was wonderful getting all this news of him, and maybe … maybe he'd … She kept her smile cool, pleasant, and detached as he shook his head.
“No. Just a business trip. But she doesn't know about it yet. Well, what do you think? The brown suede, or the dark green?”
“The brown suede with the red stripe. I think it's gorgeous.”
“So do I.” He nodded happily at Marie's choice and signaled to the salesgirl. He was taking three pieces, and asked her to ship them airmail to New York. Then he did live there. She had wondered. “Thank you for your help, er … uh … Miss …”
“Adamson. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and I apologize if I asked too many questions. The holidays always have a strange effect on me.”
“Me too. But it's such a nice time of year. Even in New York, and that's saying a lot.”
“Is that where you live?”
“When I'm home. I travel a great deal for my job.”
That still didn't tell her if he was working for Michael, but she knew she couldn't ask. And suddenly, it made her ache, just standing there, being so near him, wanting to know about someone who no longer existed for her anyway—or shouldn't have. And then he looked at her again, as though something about her had bothered him. For a moment she felt her heart stop, but his smile told her that he had no idea who she was. She pulled at her hat a little to assure that he couldn't see the last of the tape and held Fred a little closer in her arms as Ben continued to stare at her.
“I know this is a crazy thing to ask,” he said, “but … could I invite you somewhere for a drink? I'm leaving on a plane in a few hours, but we could hop over to the St. Francis, if ….”
She returned the smile, but she was already shaking her head. “I'm afraid I have a plane to catch too. But thank you for the offer, Mr. Avery.”
And then his smile faded slowly. “How did you know my name?”
“I heard the salesgirl say it.”
She was quick with the response, and he shrugged and then looked at her with regret. She was an incredibly beautiful girl. And no matter how much he had come to love Wendy in the three months since their affair began, he could still have a drink with a pretty girl. It was too bad she was leaving town, too. And then he had a thought. “Where's your plane to, Miss Adamson?”
“Santa Fe, New Mexico.”
He looked as disappointed as a schoolboy, and she laughed at the look on his face. “Damn. I was hoping you were going to New York. We could at least have enjoyed the flight together.”
“I'm sure the young lady with the luggage would have appreciated that.” Her eyes scolded him, but only a little, and they both laughed this time.
“Touché. Well, maybe next time.”
“Do you come to San Francisco often?” She was intrigued again.
“No, but I will.” And then with a look at the luggage and a smile, he added, “We will. My firm is doing a big project here. I'll probably be spending more time here than in New York.”
“Then perhaps we'll meet again.” But her voice sounded almost sad. It was only Ben after all. It didn't matter how often she saw him, he still wasn't Michael. The salesgirl broke into her reverie, and she realized it was time to go. She only looked at him for a long moment as he wrote out the check for the amount the salesgirl had tallied up, and then silently she squeezed his arm. He looked up in surprise, and she barely whispered, “Merry Christmas,” before disappearing from where they had stood chatting for almost half an hour. He looked around when he had finished the check and was disappointed to find her gone. She had left so abruptly. He looked around the store as best he could through the throngs of Christmas shoppers, but she was nowhere to be seen. She had left by the side entrance, and was just then hailing a cab. She felt tired and heavyhearted. It had been a long morning.
She gave the driver the vet's address, dropped Fred off there, and jumped back in the cab to go home. She was already packed. All she had to do was pick up her bags and head for the airport. She felt a little unkind leaving Fred behind, but she didn't really want him with her this time, she was making too many stops in the three weeks she'd be gone. It was a trip she had to make alone. Her last moments as Nancy McAllister, the end of an old life, the beginning of a new. She took a last look around her apartment before she left, as though she expected never again to see it in quite the same way; and as she closed the door softly behind her, she whispered one word. She said it to herself, and to Ben, and Michael, and to all those she had once loved or known or been … good-bye. There were tears in her eyes as she walked swiftly down the stairs with her camera bag and her suitcase tightly held in one hand.