He took the money, flipped his fingers idly through the bills, then put them in his wallet. “Jen, you want to know something. I have a bad feeling about you and the kids. It’s something I can’t explain. But I do.”

Jenny got up. In an instant Kevin was beside her, his arms were pulling her to him. “I still love you, Jenny.” His kiss was harsh and demanding.

She could not pull away without creating a scene. It was fully half a minute before she felt his arms loosen and she could step back. “Leave us alone,” she whispered. “I beg you, I warn you, Kevin, leave us alone.”

She almost bumped into the waitress who was standing behind her, order pad in hand. The two women at the window table were staring at them.

As Jenny fled from the restaurant she realized why one of the women seemed familiar. She had sat across the aisle from them at church on Sunday morning.

13

After that first evening, Erich did not call again. Jenny tried to rationalize her uneasiness. Erich had a thing about telephones. But he had planned to call every night. Should she try to reach him at the hotel? A half-dozen times she put her hand on the phone and then removed it.

Did Kevin get hired by the Guthrie? If he did, he’d be trying the same thing here that he’d done at the apartment, dropping in when he was broke or feeling sentimental. Erich would never stand for it and it was no good for the children.

Why didn’t Erich phone?

He was due home on the twenty-eighth. Joe was picking him up at the airport. Should she ride up to Minneapolis with Joe? No, she’d wait at the farm and have a good dinner ready. She missed him. She hadn’t realized how totally she and the girls had embraced their new life in these past weeks.

If it weren’t for the miserable feeling of guilt over meeting Kevin, Jenny knew she wouldn’t be troubled that Erich hadn’t phoned. Kevin was the spoiler. Suppose when the three hundred dollars was gone, he came back? It would be twice as bad if Erich learned she’d met him and said nothing.

She flew into Erich’s arms when he opened the door. He held her against him. In the short distance from the car to the porch the chill of the evening had caught in his coat and his lips were cool. They warmed quickly as he kissed her. With a half-sob she thought, It will be all right.

“I’ve missed you so.” They said it together.

He hugged the girls, asked them if they’d been good, and at their enthusiastic response presented them with brightly wrapped packages. He smiled indulgently at their squeals of delight over their new dolls.

“Thank you very, very much,” Beth said solemnly.

“Thank you, Daddy,” he corrected.

“That’s what I mean,” Beth said, her tone puzzled.

“What did you bring Mommy?” Tina asked.

He smiled at Jenny. “Has Mommy been a good girl?”

They agreed that she had.

“You’re sure, Mommy?”

Why was it that the most ordinary teasing seemed double-edged when you have something to hide? Jen thought of Nana shaking her head about an acquaintance. “That one’s bad news; she’d lie even when the truth would serve her better.”

Was that what she’d done? “I’ve been a good girl.” She tried to make her voice sound amused, casual.

“Jenny, you’re blushing.” Erich shook his head.

She knew her smile was forced. “Where’s my present?”

He reached into his suitcase. “Since you like Royal Doulton figurines, I thought I’d try to find another one for you in Atlanta. This one leaped out at me. It’s called The Cup of Tea.”

She opened the box. The figurine was of an old woman sitting in a rocking chair, a cup of tea in her hand, a look of contentment on her face.

“It even looks like Nana,” she sighed.

His eyes were tender as he watched her examine the figurine. Her eyes bright with tears, she smiled at him. And Kevin would spoil this for me, she thought.

She had made a fire in the stove; a carafe of wine and wedge of cheese were on the table. Linking her fingers in his, she brought him over to the couch. Smiling, she poured wine into his glass and handed it to him. “Welcome home.” She sat beside him, turning so that her knee touched his. She was wearing a green, ruffle-necked Yves St. Laurent silk blouse and tweed slacks in a brown-and-green weave. She knew it was one of Erich’s favorite outfits. Her hair was growing longer and fell loosely on her shoulders. Except when it was bitterly cold she liked to go bareheaded and the winter sun had bleached gold highlights in her dark hair.

Erich studied her, his face inscrutable. “You’re a beautiful woman, Jen. Aren’t you quite dressed up?”

“It isn’t every night my husband comes home after being away four days.”

“If I hadn’t come home tonight, it would have been a waste getting all dolled up, I hope.”

“If you hadn’t come home tonight, I’d have worn this for you tomorrow.” Jenny decided to change the subject. “How did it go in Atlanta?”

“It was miserable. The gallery people spent most of their time trying to persuade me to sell Memory of Caroline. They had a couple of big offers for it and could smell the commission.”

“You ran into the same thing in New York. Maybe you’ll have to stop showing that painting.”

“And maybe I choose to show it because it’s still my best work,” Erich said quietly. Was there an implied criticism of her suggestion in his voice?

“Why don’t I finish putting dinner together?” As she got up, Jenny leaned over and kissed him. “Hey,” she whispered, “I love you.”

While she was tossing the salad and stirring a hollandaise sauce, he called Beth and Tina over. A few minutes later he had both girls on his lap and was animatedly telling them the story of the Peachtree Hotel in Atlanta where the elevators were glass and went up outside the building just like a magic carpet. Someday he’d take them there.

“Mommy too?” Tina asked.

Jenny turned, smiling, but the smile ended when Erich said, “If Mommy wants to come with us.”

She’d cooked a rib roast. He ate well but his fingers drummed restlessly on the table and no matter what she said he answered in monosyllables. Finally Jenny gave up and started talking only to the children. “Did you tell Daddy that you sat on the ponies’ backs?”

Beth put down her fork and looked at Erich. “It was fun. I said giddyap but Mouse didn’t go.”

“I said giddyap too,” Tina chimed in.

“Where were the ponies?” Erich asked.

“Right in the stalls,” Jenny said hastily, “and Joe lifted them up for just a minute.”

“Joe takes too much on himself,” Erich interrupted. “I want to be there when the girls are put on the ponies. I want to be sure he’s watching them carefully. How do I know he’s not as careless as that fool of an uncle was?”

“Erich, that was so long ago.”

“It doesn’t seem long ago when I bump into that drunken sot. And Joe tells me he’s back in town again.”

Was that the reason Erich was so upset? “Beth, Tina, if you’re finished you can excuse yourselves and play with your new dolls.” When the children were out of earshot she said, “Is Joe’s uncle the problem, Erich, or is it something else?”

He reached across the table in that familiar gesture of entwining their fingers. “It’s that. It’s the fact that I think Joe has been tootling around in the car again. It has at least forty extra miles on it. Of course he denies driving it but he used it once in the fall without permission. He didn’t drive you anywhere, did he?”

She clenched her fist. “No.”

She had to say something about Kevin. She wouldn’t have Erich believe that Joe had deceived him.

“Erich… I…”

He interrupted her. “And it’s the damn art galleries. For four days I had to keep telling that fool in Atlanta that Memory of Caroline was not for sale. I think it’s still my best work and I want to exhibit it but…” His voice stopped. When he spoke again, it was calmer. “I’ll be doing more painting, Jen. You don’t mind, do you? It means I’ll have to hole up in the cabin for three or four days at a stretch. But it’s necessary.”