Country: a novel Part 12

"Well, let's see what happens now, with these two. Life is funny, isn't it?" She thought about it as he said it. It certainly was. "It's all about fate and destiny, and opening the right door at the right time, and having the guts to walk through it. It's amazing how everything changes in the blink of an eye." One minute he was all tied up with Amanda, on a straight path toward a marriage Stephanie had thought would make him miserable. And now he was headed in a totally other direction, with a country music singer who sang like an angel. It was like Stephanie taking the road to Las Vegas instead of San Francisco, and then going to Nashville with him. All you had to do was be brave enough to do it. She had been, and now her son was too. She was thrilled.

Chapter 19.

The Fourth of July party at Brad and Alyson's house in Ross was the epitome of everything Stephanie had been afraid her life would be like as a widow in San Francisco, with all the people they had known, in the familiar world where she now felt like a misfit. And everything people said that night just made her feel worse. They all told her how "sorry" they were for "her loss," like a mantra they had to say the moment they saw her. Then they asked how she was "doing," as though she were in treatment for a terminal disease, which it was in a way. Widowhood was the end of life as she knew it, but it was inconceivable to them that there was any form of life beyond it. Their pity for her radiated from their eyes like gentle daggers that pierced her heart. She had never missed Bill more than that night, and she didn't even know why. He would have hated the evening, complained about going, made her leave early, and told her how stupid Fourth of July parties were and that they shouldn't have gone. She always wanted to stay at parties longer than he did, and he always made her leave early because he had a meeting the next day, or an early golf date on a holiday or Sunday.

The party was held in Brad and Alyson's beautifully manicured garden at their house in Ross. All of their neighbors were there, most of whom Stephanie knew, and even those she didn't were sorry for her when mutual friends told them about Bill's death on the ski slopes nearly five months before. She felt as though she should have worn a black veil or widow's weeds to the party, but she didn't need to. They treated her that way anyway. She was "Poor Stephanie" in their eyes, and nothing was going to change that. And while feeling sorry for her, the wives were slightly suspicious of her, as though she were dangerous now, and the husbands were much too friendly and a little too cozy, which proved their wives right. There was no way to be herself or a normal person in their midst. Alyson was nervous throughout, worried that the caterer wasn't doing things right, and she went inside several times to check on the kids. Brad was too jovial and acted like he'd had a lot to drink. The waiters were pa.s.sing trays of margaritas, and no matter how many Stephanie had, she felt painfully sober throughout the evening, even if slightly sick.

And Brad had kept an arm around her for a little too long as he asked how she was doing, and he said they didn't see enough of her now. He asked what she'd been up to but didn't listen to what she told him, and she had the feeling that if she'd read the Yellow Pages to him as an answer, he would have smiled and listened in the same sympathetic way. He told her she looked great, but she didn't feel it. Jean and Fred were there too. Jean was flirting with several men after too many margaritas, and Fred fell asleep in a chair before the buffet dinner. Stephanie felt disconnected from everyone there although she had known them for twenty years.

They talked about nothing, and just talked at each other while they ate and drank all night, asked about one another's kids but didn't listen. The fourteenth time someone asked her, after telling her how sorry they were about her loss again, she wanted to tell them that Michael was in jail, Louise was turning tricks in New York, and Charlotte had gotten knocked up in Europe. She didn't, but they wouldn't have heard her anyway. It was the most depressing evening she'd spent in years, and Alyson asked her solicitously if she'd had a good time, somehow conveying the message that she knew she couldn't possibly since she'd come alone, and no longer had a husband.

Stephanie quietly called a cab to take her home, since she'd arrived in one so she could have a drink or two. The others had driven themselves, and would be driving home drunk all over Marin, as they always did. She wanted to scream on the ride home, and she watched the fireworks from the cab on the Golden Gate Bridge. They were pretty, but the evening had been morbidly depressing. And she couldn't even call Chase to tell him about it, since he was on stage in Nashville at that moment. She was happy to know that her son was there and wished she were too. She had slipped away and only said goodbye to Alyson. She just couldn't face all the others to say goodbye in her new role of "Poor Stephanie." It was the first party she'd gone to since Bill died, and it had been unbearable for her.

She paid the cab and went inside to the dark house and silence that were familiar now. There was no one to talk to about the party, and she didn't want to anyway. She put on jeans and an old sweater, and she didn't want to go to bed, so she finally tackled the project she had dreaded most, knowing she couldn't get more depressed than she already was. She started emptying Bill's closet, and laid his jackets and trousers one by one on their bed. She and Michael had already discussed it, and he was much taller than his father, and thinner, there was nothing he could wear or wanted to keep. And his feet were three sizes larger than his father's. So she was going to give it all away.

She had put boxes aside in the garage for the project, and she brought them all upstairs. It was nearly four o'clock in the morning when she finished, and all of Bill's suits, slacks, sports coats, s.h.i.+rts, ties, shoes, underwear, and everything he'd ever worn, including his tuxedo, was neatly folded in boxes, and taped closed. She didn't even feel the tears running down her cheeks. And all of his drawers and closets in his dressing room were empty. There was no sign of him at all except in the photographs of him around the house in silver frames. He was a ghost now. He was gone.

She fell asleep on the bed with her clothes on, too tired to change, and she walked around the house the next morning, as though seeing it for the first time. She moved some chairs around, and a table. She pushed her desk to the other side of the room, and she was surprised by how much better things looked when she was finished. She even rehung some paintings in the living room and dining room, and took down one Bill had loved and she didn't. They'd bought it in London, of a hunt with the hounds tearing a fox apart. She was going to put it in a storeroom they had downstairs, she didn't want to see it anymore. She took out some silver bowls she'd put away, and a small statue she loved that Bill had hated, and the house started to look more feminine as she moved things, and put things away. She was desperate suddenly to make it her own, and no longer theirs.

And that afternoon she moved some of her clothes into his closet. She felt like a traitor doing it, as though she were burying him again. But she didn't want to live in a shrine. It was her house now, for as long as she chose to live there, and she had a feeling he would have done the same thing.

She carried all the boxes down to the garage to give them away, and Jean called as she was coming back up the stairs. She'd been busy all day. And she hadn't heard from Chase yet, which was unusual for him, but she was glad she hadn't. She needed to do this alone. She was relieved that it was Jean.

"Great party, wasn't it?" Jean said happily, and Stephanie hesitated for a long moment, not sure what to say, and decided to tell her the truth.

"I hated it. I felt like a freak all night. 'Poor Stephanie...I'm so sorry for your loss...what have you been doing?...oh poor you...and how are the children doing?' It's like I have no ident.i.ty anymore except as whatever is left of Bill. I felt like I was on furlough from a mental inst.i.tution. And why was Alyson so nervous all night? She looked like she needed a Xanax or a Valium or something."

"You know how Brad is. He wants everything perfect, so she gets nervous. But I thought she did a great job. I'm sorry you had a tough time, Steph. It was the first time you went out. It'll be better next time." Not unless she got new friends, Stephanie thought to herself. The prospect of going through that again made her want to scream. She'd felt like a whole person in Nashville, where no one knew her, but the night before had been her worst nightmare come true. She felt buried alive with Bill.

"I emptied all his closets last night when I got home. I just couldn't take it anymore. I was suffocating. I feel like I've lost my ident.i.ty. It's like they think I'm n.o.body without him. And I think so too. No job, no career, no kids anymore, no Bill. There's nothing left of me. That's all I ever was, the service department for all of them with no ident.i.ty of my own. I need to do something with my life, but I just don't know what. There's no me."

"Yes, there is," Jean said soothingly. She could hear how upset she was, and she understood. "You were a great wife, and you're still a great mother. You didn't have time to be you when they were all here. You were taking care of them. The same thing would happen to Alyson if Brad died. Good wives don't make themselves known, they're too busy nurturing other people, unless you're a b.i.t.c.h like me." Stephanie laughed at what she said, but Jean had a definite personality, was true to herself, and took care of her own needs. Stephanie knew she hadn't. She had always been quiet and discreet and done what Bill wanted and what worked for him. It never occurred to anyone, least of all him, what she needed or what worked for her.

"Maybe I was too scared to speak up," she said to Jean. And she thought Alyson was too. She was so terrified to lose Brad, or p.i.s.s him off, that she had stopped being anyone except the person he wanted her to be, not who she had been. "What's wrong with us, acting like that? And then they die, or leave us, and there's no us left, just the sh.e.l.l of what we once were. That's not who I want to be anymore," Stephanie said firmly, "I want to be me. I just don't know who that is yet."

"You'll figure it out," Jean said calmly. "I'm proud of you, Steph. You've grown up since Bill died." And her drive across the country had been a rite of pa.s.sage of some kind, as much as the trip to Nashville with Chase. She had been brave enough to enter and explore new worlds, which she could never have done with Bill. And Stephanie had the strange feeling that if Bill had returned from the dead at that moment, she wouldn't have wanted to be married to him anymore, even if she was lonely now. She was beginning to like who she was becoming too much to ever give it up. She was never going to let anyone do that to her again.

They talked for a while, and Chase called her late that afternoon. He apologized for not calling sooner, but they had left the concert and gone out to all the bars with live music, so he could show Michael, and they had done the same again that day. Chase said they'd had a ball. It was what Nashville was all about, and they were going to the Grand Ole Opry that night, which Michael wanted to see too.

"Don't let him wear you out," Stephanie said apologetically.

"He won't. This is what I love. And he knows a lot about country music. I was surprised."

"He loved it when he was a kid. How are he and Sandy doing?" She was dying to hear about that. She was so excited about his being there with her, and breaking up with Amanda. She was so relieved for him.

"They're getting along like a house afire. He's so sweet to her, it's really cute to watch. She's never known anyone like him, except me." He laughed. "The boys she meets around here are a little rough around the edges, especially on the music scene. Or they're sucking up to me. Michael is a man, and he acts like one. He's very protective of her." Chase loved what he had seen, and it was easy to see how attracted they were to each other. They were always kissing and holding hands when they thought no one was watching. "I think we have a real romance on our hands here." He was happy to see it. Her son was a lovely person, Chase trusted Sandy with him completely, and they had been very well behaved the night before. Michael had said goodnight to her in the garden, and had breakfast with Chase in his kitchen that day.

He couldn't stay on with Stephanie for long because they were going to the concert at the Grand Ole Opry, but she was thrilled with the report, and it boosted her spirits as she continued to change things around the house. And she ate dinner alone in the kitchen at ten o'clock, and sent Alyson an e-mail, thanking her for the party. She wondered what Chase and the others were doing at that moment, and wished she was there.

- Michael told Chase that the Grand Ole Opry was everything he had expected and more, although he had enjoyed Chase's concert even more the night before and loved watching Sandy perform. Just as it was for his mother, it was a whole new world for him. He met Randy Travis, Tim McGraw, Carrie Underwood, and Alan Jackson when he went out with Chase and Sandy afterward, and Chase's son Derek had come for the night from Memphis and was staying with friends, and Michael enjoyed meeting him too. He was a smart guy, and good to talk to. And it was obvious how much he and Chase liked each other and enjoyed each other's company.

But the highlight of the weekend for Michael was Sandy. He was absolutely dazzled by her, and was mesmerized by her solo at Chase's concert. She had a powerful voice that soared on the high notes like a gospel singer. Chase had taught her how to maximize the range of her voice. The crowd had gone wild when she finished, and so did he. And when she wasn't working, they laughed and talked and had a great time together. It was so different from everything he'd experienced with Amanda, who was so much more intense than he wanted to be. Sandy was like a summer breeze, gentle on his cheek. And when he kissed her, it drove them both to the edge of pa.s.sion, but they managed to stay within sane boundaries for the entire weekend, although with some difficulty. His body ached for her every time he touched her, and hers did the same. But Chase was impressed by how reasonable they were and how well they behaved. Michael was a responsible young man, and Chase wasn't sure he could have done the same at his age.

"I was a lot wilder than he was," Chase told his mother. "You've got a good boy, Stevie." She was proud of him too, and slightly concerned for Sandy. She was only eighteen, and Michael was seven years older. She had a long way to go, and a big career ahead of her, before she could settle down, no matter how in love they were, and Chase agreed.

"It would be a shame if she gave up her career now to get married and have babies. It's the only thing I'm afraid of for her. She shouldn't give up the chance she has now to make it big."

"Michael won't expect her to," she rea.s.sured him, "and he's not ready to settle down either." That had been one of the problems with Amanda. That and the fact that she was the wrong girl for him.

"He might be before she is, and it's threatening for a guy to have a woman you love exposed to so many things, opportunities, and good-looking guys. It's heady stuff. But she's got a good head on her shoulders."

"So does he," Stephanie said, although all of this was new to him.

When Michael went back to Atlanta on Monday night, he told Sandy before he left that he loved her, and she said it to him too. It had hit them with the speed of lightning, and gone off like rockets. He promised to come back in two weeks for the weekend, when the team had an away game. He couldn't come before that, but Sandy looked like she was floating on air when she went back to her cottage after he left.

She worked harder than ever for the next two weeks. She wanted to prove to Chase that she wasn't going to let romance distract her or destroy her career. If anything, it would fuel it, and he was impressed, and he said as much to Michael when he returned.

"You're good for her. That's the way it should be," Chase said quietly. They were drinking a gla.s.s of wine by the pool, while Sandy was getting dressed to go out to dinner at the 1808 Grille. "A bad love life can really screw up your career, if you're in a creative field. You can wind up too upset to work, although I always write more songs when I'm sad. But a good relations.h.i.+p can inspire you and give you strength." And for the moment, Sandy was soaring. Chase hoped it would stay that way.

Sandy came out of the cottage a few minutes later, and they left for dinner. Chase sat at the pool for a long time after that, thinking about Stevie and how much he missed her.

And two days later he had a surprise for her. His agent had called him that morning. Stephanie had just gotten up when he called her, and was shuffling around her kitchen reorganizing the pots and pans and dishes.

"What are you doing this weekend?" he asked her.

"Cleaning out my garage. Why? I want to get rid of all the old tools that are broken and don't work." It had become a sacred mission now to weed through everything in her house.

"Want help?" She didn't know what he meant. She thought he was offering to hire someone for her, which would have been just like him.

"No, I'm okay. I'm just taking my time. But thanks for the offer." She was becoming more and more independent, and he could hear it. He didn't mind, and he admired her for it.

"That's too bad," he said, pretending to sound disappointed. "I thought I'd come out and give you a hand." There was dead silence at her end as she absorbed it.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am. I have meetings with a record label in L.A. next week. I thought I'd come to San Francisco first for the weekend, and we could go down to L.A. together."

"Oh my G.o.d." She was beaming as she said it. It was all she wanted. She hadn't seen him in weeks. "When?"

"How soon do you want me?"

"Now." She was laughing and sounded excited. Her hands were shaking.

"I'll come tomorrow. That gives us four days together in your fair city before we go to L.A." It was Wednesday, and he would be there on Thursday. "How long can you stay in L.A., or can I stay in San Francisco if we go back?"

"Charlotte's coming home in two weeks. I'm free till then." And the homeless shelter was so flexible that she could make up the time.

"I'll stay till then," he said, sounding as happy as she did.

It felt like the best news she'd had in years. She could hardly wait to see him, and told Dr. Zeller about it that afternoon. Stephanie had already seen her several times since she got back from her road trip cross country. And the therapist always gave her something to think about.

This time she asked her why she had never left Bill, after the affair, or even before that.

"It doesn't sound like you had a very satisfying life together. He was always busy, never at home. Even when he had free time, he spent it playing golf with clients or friends, and not with you. He wasn't there for his children, and you had to cover for him and be mother and father to them a lot of the time. So what exactly did he give you? It doesn't sound like s.e.x was a big issue. So what kept you there?"

"Dedication. Duty. Responsibility. The kids. I wanted to be a good wife. I didn't want to deprive them of their father if I left. That was after the affair."

"Twenty-six years of dedication and duty. Wow, Stephanie. I'm impressed. Did you love him?"

"Yes." But she knew she hadn't stayed because of love. Dr. Zeller made it clear that she didn't believe her and wasn't really as impressed as she said.

"Any other reason you can think of?"

"What about you?" Stephanie asked. "Why do you think I stayed?" She seemed to doubt Stephanie's word and had made that clear.

"What about fear?"

"Fear of Bill? Like he'd beat me up if I left?" That sounded ridiculous to her. Bill had never laid a hand on her nor threatened to. He wasn't a violent man. If anything, he was disengaged and disconnected from her.

"Fear of being alone," Dr. Zeller said quietly, and Stephanie felt as if she'd been hit by a two-by-four in the solar plexus. She couldn't breathe. "Fear of never finding anyone else. Of venturing out into the world. Your life with Bill was safe. You knew what you were dealing with. Fear of the unknown, a lack of confidence in yourself." The therapist was well aware that Stephanie had already changed, or she would have never gone to Las Vegas, the Grand Canyon, and Nashville and driven cross country. She would never have dared to do anything like it six months before, before Bill's death. Now she had lost her excuse not to, and was facing her fears at last. She sat in her chair for a long time with tears in her eyes and nodded as she looked at the therapist.

"I think you're right," she said softly.

Dr. Zeller nodded back with a smile. "So do I. You're doing great, Stephanie," she praised her. Stephanie was open to gaining insight into herself, and doing something about it. "Have fun with your country music star. He sounds like quite a guy." She was aware that Stephanie hadn't slept with him. They had talked about it when she got back. Stephanie didn't feel ready, and the therapist knew it was up to Stephanie if she wanted to or not. It was her decision. And if she didn't, someone else would come along. Of that Dr. Zeller was sure. She was a beautiful woman, with a fine mind, a good heart, and a lot more guts than she knew or gave herself credit for. And she was starting to open all the old doors and look at all the secrets buried there.

They had come far again that day. She was pensive as she walked out of the office and drove home. Stephanie realized now that she hadn't stayed with Bill for all the n.o.ble reasons she claimed, but because she was afraid to leave him. She knew it was true. She was making important discoveries for her future life. If she chose to have one. The other option was to bury herself alive, but she wasn't going to do that. She had already made too much progress to turn back.

Chapter 20.

Stephanie felt like a kid as she waited at the San Francisco airport for Chase the next day. He had taken a commercial flight, which he rarely did, but had chartered a jet to take them to L.A. And she wanted to jump up and down, she was so excited to see him. The minute she saw him walk off the plane with his long steady stride, their eyes met, and with no thought for who might see them, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard. He knew he had missed her, but he only realized just how much when he was holding her again.

"I'm so happy to see you," she said, melting into his embrace. She just wanted to stand there while he held her, but they walked slowly through the terminal and down to the baggage claim area so he could pick up his bag. He couldn't take his eyes off her, and he kept an arm around her shoulders as they walked. And she was surprised to realize that there was no awkwardness between them. They had talked so much and so often since she'd been home that it was as though they had never left each other.

He had already told her that he had taken a suite at the Ritz-Carlton. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, staying in the house she had shared with Bill, even if he slept in a guest room and they never touched each other. It was wiser this way, he said, and she agreed. In spite of the changes she had made, she still felt Bill's presence in the house, and there was so much history there. She was glad Chase had thought of taking a suite at a hotel. It was no different from her being at the Hermitage Hotel when she was in Nashville, they could still be together all the time. And they would be together at the Beverly Hills Hotel in L.A. He had booked a two-bedroom bungalow, and a cabana at the pool. But he was still looking forward to seeing her San Francisco house, and discovering her world, just as she had seen his.

She had thought about introducing Chase to Jean while he was in town, but she decided not to. She didn't want to crowd him, or burden him with friends who would make a fuss over him. She wanted him to herself. And they needed time alone. He had been busy in Nashville when she was there, although he had made time for her. And he would be in L.A. as well. Their four days in San Francisco were going to be pure relaxation and pleasure. And it was a beautiful day when he arrived, without the usual heavy summer fog. She had told him to bring a coat and some sweaters, since it was always chilly in the summer, and he had. And she had promised to take him to the Napa Valley, and anywhere else he wanted to go. All Chase wanted was to be with her.

"Are you hungry? Tired? What do you want to do?" She turned to him as they got in her car. "Do you want to go to the hotel and relax, or get something to eat?" He just sat there smiling at her before he answered, drinking her in with his eyes. He was wearing a dark blue V-neck sweater, faded jeans, and cowboy boots. And as Jean would have said, he looked s.e.xy as h.e.l.l. Stephanie smiled as she watched him.

"How about we drop my bag off at the hotel and figure it out? Is there a beach we can walk on? I want to see the Golden Gate Bridge like a tourist. But all I really want to see is you. That's what I came for. The bridge is second best. You're first." He had seen the Golden Gate Bridge before, but now he wanted to see it all again with her. She started the car, and he didn't offer to drive since he didn't know his way around. And it was only a twenty-minute drive to the city, past the old Candlestick Park, where the 49ers played. They saw the skyline of the city, the financial district, and the Bay Bridge as they drove into town. And they took a turnoff to downtown, so she could take him to the hotel.

She left her car with the doorman, and followed him into the lobby to check in. The manager on duty escorted them to the club floor and his suite. It was one of the best in the house. And they had champagne, fruit, cookies, chocolate-dipped strawberries, and a cheese board set up in his room. He was an important VIP, and they were excited to have him there-but not nearly as excited as Stephanie was to see him. And he mentioned to her that Michael was coming back to Nashville again for the weekend. He went every week now, unless the team had a home game.

"They're so cute to watch," Chase said about Michael and Sandy. Stephanie couldn't wait to see them together.

Stephanie offered to drive him around the city to show him the sights, and then go for a walk to the Golden Gate Bridge, and he ordered coffee for both of them from room service before they went out. They sat down in the living room of the suite to wait for it, and as they were talking, he leaned over and kissed her again. It was like a whisper on her lips. The waiter interrupted them with the coffee, and as soon as he left, Chase pulled her into his arms again. All he wanted was to feel her body next to his. He had his arms around her, and she was pressed against him. They were both breathless when they came up for air.

"I've missed you so much," he said, nestling against her hair, and she looked up at him with all the tenderness she felt. Everything about him felt familiar to her now. It was as though they had always been together, and without a word they walked into the bedroom and lay on the bed, smiling at each other.

"I love you, Chase," she said softly, and as she said it, he kissed her again and gently peeled her clothes off, and they got into bed together.

"I love you, Stevie," he said as he began making love to her. It was the most natural thing in the world, and what they had both been waiting for. And when it was over, they lay in each other's arms. "You're a beautiful woman," he said to her softly, running a hand down her body still pressed against his. "What are you thinking?" he asked her, worried that it had been too soon and she'd have regrets.

"That I'm the luckiest woman in the world. And if I hadn't gone to the Grand Canyon, I would never have met you that day." They both felt as though they were meant to be together, and had come from opposite sides of the world to find each other.

"That was my lucky day for sure," he said, and slowly pulled away from her. He walked into the bathroom with his long, lean, athletic body, and ran a bath for both of them. They slipped into it a few minutes later, and lay there at each end of the tub, and smiled at each other.

"Thank you for coming out here," she said, as he pulled one of her feet out of the water and kissed it, as she giggled.

"I was going crazy without you in Nashville. Even if I didn't have the meeting in L.A., I couldn't have held out for much longer. My life is nothing without you now." And then with a serious expression, he asked her the question she had been asking herself for weeks. "How are we going to work this out? I don't want to be away from you, Stevie. Do you think you could come to Nashville and spend some time with me? We can figure out a way to spend time here too." But at least she had no children to keep her here anymore. She was free. But she still felt anch.o.r.ed in San Francisco, for reasons she hadn't been able to figure out since she got back. She wasn't working, she was only attached to Alyson and Jean, and yet she felt as though leaving would be running away somehow. But she had so little to keep her here, except a house and the holidays she spent here with her kids. All she had here now was history, and the man she had fallen in love with lived three thousand miles away. "Why don't you come for a while after your daughter goes back to school?" he suggested. He knew Charlotte was planning to spend a month with her before she went back to NYU, and he didn't want to interfere with that. But he wanted her back with him as soon as she could.

"We'll figure it out," she said softly, and she was determined to try, but she didn't want to give up everything familiar to her either. Her whole life had revolved around Bill and her children for twenty-six years-now she didn't want it to revolve around someone else. There had to be a place for her in his world too, where she felt useful and productive and had something real to do. "What would I do in Nashville if I spent time there?" she asked him honestly while they got dressed. He had taken a clean white s.h.i.+rt out of his suitcase, and put it on with his jeans. Stephanie had no other choice than the clothes she'd picked him up in. He knew she'd asked him a serious question, and he tried not to be distracted by her body as he answered her. All he wanted to do was hold her and look at her and make love to her again.

"What do you want to do? You can do anything you want. You can handle PR for me if you like. I always need help with that." She was a smart woman, and he thought she'd be good at it. She'd already given him several good ideas about how to handle his publicity and dealing with the press. He was unhappy about the PR firm they used, and had been thinking of switching to one in New York or Atlanta. And Stephanie could oversee that. She was toying with the idea, and there were things about it that appealed to her, but she didn't know what it would be like to work for him, or if it would interfere with what they had. Working for him would make things different. "You can do volunteer work like what you do here. Or something in the music business. I could get you some interviews." He was anxious to help her with anything he could, particularly if it convinced her to spend more time with him.

"I'm not sure what kind of job I could do if I'm not there full time." But she'd have the same problem finding a job in San Francisco, if she was going to be running to Nashville all the time. The one thing she didn't want was to give up her ident.i.ty and be some kind of satellite to him. She had done that for too many years. Bill hadn't asked her to, it had just worked out that way, married and with children. And Chase was a far more powerful ent.i.ty than Bill had ever been. All Bill had ever wanted her to do was be a wife and mother to their kids. That wouldn't be an issue with Chase. "Do you want more kids?" she asked him, looking worried, and he burst out laughing.

"h.e.l.l, no. I did that when I was a kid myself. I want time with you! Not changing diapers, or chasing teenagers around when I'm in my sixties." They had been careful, and she didn't want any slips either. She still had to worry, for a few years anyway. And she didn't want a baby at her age. She smiled to herself thinking how furious her kids would be if that happened.

"I agree with you. Let's try not to make any mistakes," she said gently, and he added, "Let's leave the baby-making to our kids."

"Not just yet though, please." She thought her kids were all still too young to have children responsibly. They were still children themselves in many ways. "I'm not ready for that." And she looked so young that even though she was old enough, he couldn't imagine her as a grandmother. He was far more concerned that their pa.s.sion would lead to a pregnancy for her, and it could.

"Maybe you should go on the Pill," he said, looking worried. "What did you used to do?"

"What we did today," she said discreetly. "We didn't need birth control very often. I guess our marriage was in pretty bad shape." She could already tell that wasn't going to be the case with them, and she wondered if he was right about her going on the Pill. "I'll talk to my doctor about it," she said, as he put his wallet in his jeans, and pulled his cowboy boots on. They were ready to go, and he stood there for a minute, looking at her, admiring her beauty, and desperately in love with her. And she was just as much in love with him. She felt bonded to him now that they had made love. It was why she hadn't wanted to do it until they both felt ready. It was too important to her to take it lightly, or have a casual affair with him. Their relations.h.i.+p already felt serious to both of them. They still didn't know how they would work out the geography or the demands of his career, but they were committed to try, and making love had sealed their union.

"Well, I guess we just turned this into our honeymoon," he said with his s.e.xy southern drawl as they left the suite, and she grinned. It felt that way to her too.

- She drove him down to the marina, where all the sailboats were, and they drove past it and parked the car next to Krissy Field. They walked onto the narrow beach and watched the windsurfers coming in, and the fog bank roll in through the Golden Gate. It was chilly, and they had both brought sweaters with them and put them on. Chase held her hand as they walked, and she kept smiling up at him as if to make sure he was real.

"Have you ever been to Alcatraz?" he asked her as they looked at it across the Bay.