It seemed that almost every train ride I'd ever taken involved seeing Jeff. I hadn't thought of it until the sound of mechanical wheels hitting the track in a steady clanging rhythm reminded me of meeting him in Eugene. The awful argument. The realization that I was his mistress and no more than that. I'd felt, back then, that I was still lovely in my straight skirts and cashmere sweaters, a choker of opalescent pearls, wearing the jade bracelet he'd given me. When he'd stood at the Eugene station, walked up to me, surprising me amongst the sea of people rushing on and off trains. Standing there in his fedora, tossing a cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his foot as he approached me. My heart rivaling my better judgment.

"Mommy," Charlie interrupted, "there are so many trains." I hadn't realized we were stopped. He was pointing at the other trains at the station. "Are we in Chicago?" He stood up. "I want to get off the train."

"Darling, we aren't there yet. I don't know where we are. I don't know if we'll be able to get off the train."

"We've been on the train too long."

"I know sweet heart."

We were sitting in the dining car, the spring light had already changed. It was different than Oregon's northerly light, unpredictably shadowed in dark clouds, then the sudden bright sun breaks -- as though it had never been dismal. Oregon weather was a lie. Just as suddenly as the sunbreak appeared, the gray haze would return and the rain would start in scattered drops that inevitably would turn to downpours, particularly in the fall. Fall in the Pacific Northwest brought high winds that blew branches and shook the windowpanes. I looked out the train window at the unfamiliar surroundings. I didn't even know where we were, but it seemed we were close to Chicago. I could tell the weather would be different there. The darkness would not swallow me as it always had.

Once the train pulled to a stop, I could see that there were no crowds. It was rather quiet in everyway. Perhaps, it was the time of day. A Monday at 3:00 in the afternoon. The conductor walked the isles slowly punching tickets, making sure everyone had tickets for the duration of the ride to Chicago or wherever they were going in between. When he reached us, he smiled a polite smile. He was older than me. Maybe in his 50s; he had thick black moustache and his suit looked clean and pressed. He seemed official. I leaned forward and asked "May we get off the train for a little while, my son would like a souvenir?"

"Sure. Just be back in an hour and a half." he was still smiling.

"Where are we?"

"Ottuwma, Indiana."

"Indiana? We're close to Chicago then?"

"About six more hours."

"What time do we get in?"

"Late. About 11:00."

"Oh."

"You have a lot of questions Miss." He said flirtatiously and smiled at me again. I realized that he was looking at me affectionately. It wasn't a moment before a flash of memory struck me. It was the hospital. Until that moment, I hadn't remembered much about certain events other than a feeling. A horrible humiliation. I had always remembered it as Jeff's blue eyes full of rage. Pressing against my body, hurting me. But the conductor's expression, innocent enough, broke into my consciousness. He must have, or his expression, must have bore a resemblance to the doctor whose name I couldn't remember. The doctor who'd had me remove my clothes and told the nurse to immerse me in the tub of ice cold water. It was his eyes—not Jeff's—that had examined me, smiled as he bore witness to my humiliation. The hospital's white glistening tiles had reflected the harsh light of the treatment room. I remembered staring at the porcelain and the glow of the lights gave me a purpose: I counted the tiles instead of meeting his gaze. How long had he stood there above me while I lay naked in a freezing tub of water? It was just the next day they'd held me down, four or five of them, held me down while another doctor placed a metal headpiece on me, touching my temples with the cool instrument. Then he flicked the switch. It was just until that moment, when the man collecting the tickets flirted with me that my memory of those events came back to me.

I became aware again, just as instantly as I'd become lost in memory. "Yes. Of course. We'll be back in time." Charlie was smiling, pulling on my sweater. He stood on the seat and leaned into me. He grabbed my face to turn me towards him, a habit he had that I couldn't stand.

I reached for his hands and gently removed them. "Darling don't do that to mama's face. You're four years old now, you can't do that."

"But you weren't listening." I looked up and the man was gone. "You weren't paying attention."

"I was listening to the conductor Charlie." I collected the checkers set that we had between us on the dining table. We played over and over and it would be nice to get a break from it. I knew he wanted to constantly play the game because it reminded him of Frank. I knew how much he missed Frank and Mary, how sad he was to leave our old life.

"Will we see Grandpa again?"

"Of course. He's living with auntie Carmen now. We'll go back to Portland and visit. Maybe they'll come see us. Of course Charlie."

"Will we see grandma?
"Don't you want to get your souvenir? We'd better hurry. We only have an hour.

The empty station was a limbo. I knew somehow it separated my past life from my future one with Jeff. I wasn't excited, although the nervousness inside me was a constant ache. It was partly over moving to Chicago, which would cause anyone anxiety. There was also a unease that had never left me after what had happened.

We were in the little gift shop. It looked more like a newspaper stand. There were peanuts, cigarettes and newspapers. Charlie was handling the miniature toy trains and held one in his hand. I felt my body grow flush and removed my cardigan. Immediately I felt cooler in just my short-sleeved sweater.

It occurred to me that I must look older in my outfit. Ordinarily Jeff had seen me in dresses and skirts. I don't know why but I chose a sweater set and pants for the train ride. I imagined he would like the cashmere aqua top. I didn't know what he'd think of my trousers. He'd always acted overtaken by my appearance. It was almost a little exaggerated, I knew it may have been to elevate me, cause a drop then lift in my feelings. It was a way of catching me off guard then causing me to turn flush and look at him with adoration. I looked at Charlie and smiled.

"Both." He said confidently holding a toy train; and also a snow globe with a train suspended in a snowy scene. It caused me to cry. I didn't know why. The little train wasn't moving. It was forever in winter. I removed my handkerchief from my purse and wiped my eyes. I regained my composure.

"No darling, choose just one."

He pouted at me. "No."

"Well, you won't get either then."

The girl behind the counter smiled knowingly at me. "I can't tell you how many days I hear this same argument."

I smiled at her. She was young and charming. Pretty.

"Darling, choose now. We have to board the train."

He put the snow globe back on the table and handed me the train.

I bent down and looked at him on his level. "I like the train. You can play with it while we ride to Chicago."

"Only a few more hours to Chicago," the cashier said. "Where did you travel from?"

"Oregon."

"That's a long way. Are you traveling with your husband?"

"No. We are meeting him in Chicago. He's a professor. We were up in Oregon. For a funeral."

"Oh I'm sorry."
"Yes. How much do I owe you?"

" 28 cents."

I pulled my purse from my pocket book and counted out the change. "Thank you very much." I handed the toy to Charlie.

She smiled and said, "Have a good trip home."

I nodded and took one last look at her in her. She wore a white shirt with a red uniform tie. The color of the tie brought out her pale skin. Her skirt fuller than I was used to. The styles were changing. She was young and pretty. I turned back to her. "If you don't mind me asking..." I started but realized it would be rude to say what I was thinking.

"Of course, what is it?"

"I don't know why. I was wondering, how old you are?"

"Of course not. I don't mind. I'm twenty-four." She was the same age I was when I'd met Jeff. Was I that young? I was 24 and he was almost ten years older than me. Seeing the girl's naiveté—she wore it in her expressions, in her manner, in her charm and sweetness.—seeing the girl made me realize why men always sought young women.

"Well, you're very pretty." I said to her.

"Thank you. You're very beautiful. I thought maybe you were a movie actress. I couldn't help but notice."

"Obviously we were taken with each other." I smiled at her and turned to leave. As I walked away, I realized it was a strange moment of intimacy. I wished I could pull myself away from such deep, cynical thoughts. I wished I could be that girl and travel across the country with a giddiness. I longed for those feelings again. I looked down at Charlie. I was holding one hand and walking quickly. He held the train in his other hand. "Are you happy with your train?"

"I love it."

I smiled. Charlie warmed my heart. "Well, I love you." I leaned down and picked him up even though he was getting too old. I kissed his cheek and even at four years old it was still a soft baby cheek. He smelled like the castile soap with lavender that Mary made. The only token of her that I'd taken with me on the train. Several bars of her soap. I'd planned to slice them into small pieces and keep them in our dresser drawers. Keep the scent of Mary with us. The rest of my things were to be shipped to my new home. "You are such a good boy. I whispered as we approached the train. Charlie held up his toy and said "Look mama, it's the same!"

When we got back aboard, I took Charlie back to the sleeping car. "Let's rest a while."

Of course, Jeff had booked us the first class tickets. We walked past the rows of seats, sparsely occupied and made our way to the first class car. There were small glass-enclosed sitting rooms with rocking chairs facing the train window. The windows had canvas curtains and a shade. What a difference from how I'd traveled before, I thought. When we entered our room, it was small but well appointed for a sleeping car. There were two beds against the walls, a sitting area with a table. The window. As soon as we got in the room, Charlie jumped on the bed and pulled the window shade and it snapped open. The light was turning golden, the approaching dusk made everything look vibrant and pretty. The whistle blew and the train started to pull out of the station. Charlie mimicked the sounds and pushed his toy over the bed that was his for the trip. It was perpendicular to mine and there was a shelf above it. He drove the train over the walls to the shelf. "Look there's a station!" he cried as his little toy maneuvered the wall and came to a stop on the shelf.

"Yes," I said absent mindedly. Even on the train, I could feel the temperature was warmer than in Bend. Spring in Bend was cold and rainy. When I looked out at the people as we pulled out of the station I could see they were dressed in light suit jackets and the girls, like me, were in sweater sets or light coats. A number of people wore sunglasses. It seemed sophisticated for this small town, but it was much brighter here. I thought my outfit was appropriate for the climate, particularly since we arrived late at night and it would be chilly. I had a light wool coat too. Charlie had warmer clothes as well.

I must have been staring out for quite a while because the cities and houses disappeared. As the sun descended I looked out over farmland and large empty valleys, the green grass took on a brown, almost gray hue. The land was so flat, it was shocking to me. Oregon was rocky and mountainous. Driving over the bridge in Portland, I could see Mt. St. Helens and Mt. Hood in the distance. When we lived in Bend, Mt. Bachelor towered above us. I always felt protected in the valleys where I'd lived as if the mountains were powerful and Godly. Now I would be exposed as if there were nowhere to hide. The plains and rows of corn in the rising darkness was all I remembered until I heard a knock on the door. The conductor announced from behind the metal, "Chicago fifteen minutes." I felt a panic rise; finally the thought of seeing Jeff scared me. It felt ridiculous as if I'd just woken from a trance. I told myself to act strong. What Carmen had said was true, I had a lot of choices. This was not my only one—why did I make it? I pulled out my compact and straightened my hair. I started to put it up and back as I had grown accustomed, but I knew Jeff liked the waves down around my face. I removed the pins. I powered my face and put on rouge. I applied lipstick. I couldn't see much in the tiny mirror under the small reading lamp, but I felt I looked all right. I packed my little bag and placed it by the door. I opened the door then walked over to Charlie and shook him gently. "Charlie, darling, its time to get off the train." He was so exhausted that he would only answer with a sleepy protest. I knew I'd have to lift him and carry him out as I always did when he'd fall asleep on the sofa or in the car on trips back to Portland. The conductor passed the door; it was the same man who'd caused so many memories to surface. He looked tired and less put together. "Are you carrying the boy out?" he asked sympathetically. "Yes, I'm afraid I'll have to."

"I'll take your bags out. Will someone be waiting for you at the station."

"Yes." I said, and without thinking " my husband."

"All right then, let's get you off the train."

The train was already stopped. Chicago's Union Station was enormous. I felt excitement rise in me. As the train came to a stop, I waited by the door with Charlie and the conductor. Charlie was heavy but I was glad to have him in my arms; he felt like armor. As I looked out the window, I saw Jeff standing on the platform smoking a cigarette. He wore a long trench coat and a felt hat. He was still handsome. He still had his film star way about him; clearly affluent, obviously confident. He dropped his cigarette and walked towards the door I'd be exiting. He must have seen me through the window. It was dark and the lights reminded me of a mystery movie. It was as if Jeff were a detective and I a secret agent. I stepped off the train and the conductor put my bags next to me on the platform.

It was as if we both were shocked by the reality of the situation. As if, up until that moment, we'd both existed in the false world. A place in our minds. I could see in his eyes, that he wasn't completely full of gladness. Perhaps, I wasn't either. It was difficult to erase the memory of him that day he'd pushed his way into my house, held me by the arms and pushed me hard towards the bed. It was hard to squelch the memory of him twisting my arm. Everything he'd done was right there in that space between us.

"Eve," he said, "Let me carry Charlie."

He walked towards me and Charlie transferred easily into his arms. Jeff called an attendant and handed him a bill, "carry our bags for us will you?" When we arrived at the car, I noticed it was brand new. I supposed he didn't still drive the aqua Buick he had in Oregon. That was quite a while ago, and it made sense that he would have a brand new car. It was a white Alfa Romeo and seemed very opulent to me. I realized I hadn't spoken a word to him yet. I also realized he wasn't examining me with admiration. He wasn't as uninhibited as always, kissing me on the cheek. Saying things like "Have I told you, you look very pretty." Or even "Kiss me, Eve. I can't take another minute waiting." Maybe those are things you say to your mistress not your wife. Or maybe his standoffishness could have been attributed to what he'd done to me or the awkwardness of our arrangement which seemed at that moment more of a business deal than I'd realized. He opened the back door and slid Charlie in, so he could lay down on the seat. So he could continue sleeping. An attendant brought the bags and loaded them into the trunk. Jeff closed it and it made a thud. I was still waiting at the door.

"What was I thinking?" he said. "I should have opened your door first. I'm a little beside myself."

I nodded and sat down in the passengers seat as he gently shut the door. I stared at the shiny dials and buttons on the grill and dashboard. I ran my hand over the leather seats.

"Is it a sports car?" I asked.

He turned to me and there it was. His affectionate smile. "Why is it every time I see you after a long absence, you ask me something so unexpectedly ordinary. As if I've just seen you yesterday?"

I shrugged my shoulders. I didn't look down or blush as I would have in the past. I just kept my eyes on him. "I don't know why I do that Jeff."

His smiled faded and he bit his lip. "Maybe you're not so much the same as you were," he said. I couldn't make out his tone or if there was innuendo. We drove a while through the city and it was very metropolitan with large buildings that were lit up in rows and rows into the sky. It was the biggest city I'd been in. I'd never left Oregon.

"How are you?" he asked. "How have you been?"

"Did I tell you Mary died?"

"Yes. You did. On the phone when we spoke last week. I'm so sorry Eve."

I nodded. "You're right. I'm not the same."

"Well, you were bound to grow into a woman, don't you think?"

I nodded.

"This is a nice car." I said. "I don't think I've been in a car like this before."

"Well, you will be in cars like this from now on. We'll have another. I've hired a driver for you."

"A driver. Am I rich now?"

"You will be tomorrow morning."

"After we're married?"

He smiled. "Of course, once you are my wife you will be very well to do."

"Are you sure you want to? Now that you've seen me? Now that you see how much I've changed."

"Eve. Of course. Besides we agreed it's a business arrangement didn't we." He was teasing but I treated as though it were true. Deep inside I believed it was.

"You're right. It's business."

He turned to me. He had a worried look. Did I seem so sad? So disappointed?

"You're still very handsome," I admitted. I let myself examine him closely. His blue eyes were just the same as Charlie's. Deep but in the dark night illuminated by the lights of the dashboard they seemed translucent. When he looked at me, his eyes reflected the lights of the city. His square jaw, light brown. His hair was still cut short and parted on the side.

"Why did you just say that?"

Finally, I felt the familiar rise. The nervousness of my strong attraction for him. I remembered his hands on me, his clean scent. I remembered him whispering words against my neck, "I love you Eve Miller. I adore you." Even now again as strangers, I felt a certain privilege having had a man like that who at one time had express those things. I felt a fortune in our arrangement.

"Why did you?" he repeated smiling at me, again the adoration. "I thought it was all business."

He'd unlocked a little part of my feelings, enough that I could engage in a very subtle repartee. "Well it's unfortunate that I will have to do business with such an attractive business partner. I'll need to be on my toes."

"In order to remain professional?"

He pulled in front of a tall stone building. I noticed the neighborhood seemed like one out of the movies, obviously wealthy. A doorman stood outside the large glass and iron doors. Jeff got out of the car and came over to my side of the car. He opened it and helped me out, holding my hand.

The doorman walked towards us, "Mr. Lambert. How are you this evening?" I felt uncomfortable with the older gentleman, graying hair, dressed in a burgundy uniform out here in the chilly night. I felt bad that he had to act less than us. Jeff, took on a demeanor I'd never seen. He put his hat on and hardly looked at the man "George, before you have the car parked, please have our bags in the trunk brought upstairs."

"Yes sir."

Jeff opened the door and lifted Charlie out. Despite George's deference to Jeff, his expression revealed complete surprise at the scene before him. How many times had he done this very thing for Margaret and Jeff and their children? I stood awkwardly until Jeff had Charlie securely in his arms. Charlie opened his eyes, a little startled. He began to cry and turned to me, looking reassured that I was close by. He reached for me, Jeff looked at me as I picked Charlie up out of his arms.

"Where are we momma?"

"Shhh." I consoled.

"Can I walk on my own?" he said waking fully.

George opened the large doors as we entered. Charlie was dragging his feet looking up at the chandelier. He walked to the elevator and pushed the button to call the elevator. I thought for a moment we were at a hotel. That things would be the same as he'd been planning in Oregon. He would keep me and I'd have no one to turn to. Once we were in the elevator I started to cry. He reached over and put his hand on my cheek. "What is it, Eve?"

"Is this a hotel?" I whispered. "or a small apartment for Charlie and me?"

He laughed and leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "Of course not. It's my apartment."

"You live in an apartment?"

"Yes. It's much more than an apartment, Eve. You'll see. This is my home. I'm bringing you here to be my wife. Not my mistress."

On the tenth floor the elevator stopped. "Is this the top?"
"Yes. We have the entire top floor."

He took Charlie's hand and walked into an entry, the floor tiled in white marble. A carved wooden door stood in front of us. I felt overwhelmed and I didn't feel as though I could go through with it. He was a completely different man than the one I knew. He didn't have such a grand home in Sellwood. Yes, they had a large house but not anything near this. Charlie pulled towards me a little, but Jeff kept a grip on his hand. Before we entered he leaned down to Charlie's level. "Charlie, you're my son."

Charlie's blue eyes examined him but he didn't say anything back.

"You and your mom are going to live with me. You'll have a new family. So you'll have to let me hold your hand. I'm your father."

Charlie nodded then looked up me with confused blue eyes. Jeff opened the door and a woman in a white uniform stood to greet him. She looked me over. She didn't seem to judge me. She seemed kind and welcoming. Jeff helped me remove my jacket then handed both of ours to her.

"Marian just as I told you, this is Eve Miller. We are going to be married tomorrow. She is going to be Mrs. Lambert."

"Yes sir. It's very nice to meet you, Miss Miller." She gave me a kind smile.

"You can call me Eve. No need to be so formal."

"No she can't." Jeff interrupted. I realized in this short time that he had so many sides to him, each one suited to acquire what he wanted.

'Oh," I whispered.

"Mrs. Lambert." She said and smiled. I nodded.

"This is Charlie." Jeff said, "Have you prepared a room for him?"

"Yes sir. Elise and I finished up today."

"Where is Elise?"

"I told her she could go to bed."

He stared at her a moment. "All right. Show Charlie to his bed."

"Jeff" I touched his arm. "I'd like to put Charlie to sleep. This is so unfamiliar to him."

He softened. I noticed the juxtaposition of his demeanor with Marian and the tenderness with me. I didn't necessarily mind it, after all I was going to be his wife.

"Take Eve with you to Charlie's room." He turned to me again, "I'll wait for you."

Marian led me down a long hallway with shiny bronze sconces along the way. We passed several rooms. "This is where the other children are sleeping. Just down a little further, the nanny, Elise has a room. I'm on the other side, but you can always come find me if you need me. I'll give you a proper tour tomorrow."

I felt the cushion of the long oriental rugs that covered the halls. Jeff's apartment felt like a palace to me. "It's quite a home," I said to Marian. She looked at me with a little hesitation. I realized it may have been because of how familiar I was being. She was older and it seemed to me that she must have been doing this for years. Not necessarily with Jeff but with other families. It occurred to me that in Jeff's circles most of her employers were likely distant and condescending, like Jeff had been. She stopped in front of a room. I examined her more closely in the light. She had gray hair pulled back in a tight style. Her eyes were gray and had lines around them. She must have been about 60, a little older than Mary. I again felt a sinking sympathy for this older woman, up late waiting for Jeff and me. Having to serve instead of sitting in a warm home. What right did I have to receive her service?

"Come in. Is it all right."

I was overwhelmed with the opulence of Charlie's room. There was a large mahogany armoire on one side. A long window seat with brocade cushions. A carved mahogany, four poster bed. It was astonishingly beautiful.

"I'm speechless," I whispered. I lifted Charlie and sat him on the bed.

"It's all right. I'll help him into bed." I said to Marian.

"All right, call me if you need me."

I smiled at her, "I will. Thank you."

I undressed Charlie and helped him under the covers. He was sleepy again. "Are you sleepy my little boy?" He nodded and turned over to the side. In a moment his eyes were closed and I heard his rhythmic breathing. I watched him for a moment, for the first time considering how he would take all of this. I realized how selfish it was not to consider him. Not really. I had thought about the pain he would go through without Mary and Frank. How his life would be always scarred if we were to move back to Sellwood. I knew that he would have legitimacy if I were to marry Jeff, but that consideration was intellectual not emotional. It was part of a fabric of rules that I must have inherited from my mother who, like Jeff, had been very refined in many ways. I walked out of the room and closed the door behind me. I walked back down the long hall filled with both excitement and dread. I couldn't lie and say this unexpected wealth and extravagance was not thrilling in some ways. Although I'd never aspired to that station, it certainly seemed to have its advantages. As I walked down the hall, I was keenly aware that I wasn't the same person as the girl raised in Sellwood. I wasn't the same person as I was when I was married to Nick.

I made it back to the marble entry. I examined what I could see of the apartment. Not a moment later Marian appeared. "Mr. Lambert is in the study." I nodded and followed her down a shorter hall, this time paneled in dark wood. She led me into a room with floor to ceiling books and several leather club chairs. Jeff was sitting down, smoking and drinking what looked like a glass of scotch. "Can I get you something to drink, Mrs. Lambert?" Marian asked. I noticed the awkwardness when she addressed me. Really I wasn't Mrs. Lambert yet. I sat down, my feelings were vacillating so rapidly. Maybe not my feelings maybe it was more than that.

After I'd told her I didn't want a drink, she left us alone.

As I lowered myself on to the chair next to Jeff, I felt like a child. When he examined me and took a drag from his cigarette, I felt bitter again. I had been afflicted by unpredictable feelings and a tenuous sense of self since the hospital.

He smiled and let out the smoke, "what do you think?" He seemed sincere. Not arrogant.

"Have you always lived like this?"

He put his cigarette out in the ash tray. His shirt was unbuttoned and he had taken off his tie. This was how I liked him best, it was when he looked most like an artist. There was always something about the way he looked when we were alone and intimate. He seemed more relaxed and handsome to me. I felt an electricity run through my body then my mind. He squinted for a moment. "Mostly."

"You didn't in Sellwood though?"

"No that was more modest living."

"Why?"

"Honestly I didn't know if I'd be staying in Oregon long. And honestly, I came into some money. That's part of the reason I took the job in Chicago."

"But, you were raised this way?"

"You'll see."

"What do you mean?"

"I still find you very beautiful, Eve. I am very happy you came here. I know it will take time and I don't want to overwhelm you with my feelings. The way I've always felt about you is beyond my comprehension."

I looked down and nodded.

"Eve." He said, his tone suddenly a little colder. "Let me see your hands."

"Why?"

"Just hold them up for a moment. Please" I realized I was still wearing Nick's ring. All these years pretending he was Charlie's father, maybe even believing it.

Jeff raised his eyebrows and leaned forward. "You can't wear Nick's ring."

"I know. I didn't realize."

"Please take it off, Eve."

"I've had to wear it, being such a young mother. Alone."

"I know you did. But, you don't any more. You'll have my ring tomorrow."

I removed the ring and tucked it in my purse. He walked over and stood above me. He lifted my left hand and kissed my finger where the ring was. "I know you loved Nick, but that was a long time ago."

"No, honestly. It's not that." I felt as if I would cry, but wasn't so easy anymore. I knew how to tighten my feelings up and extinguish shows of emotion. "Jeff, I don't want to stay in the same room with you tonight."

He took my hands and lifted me to standing. He didn't move closer or try to seduce me. He nodded. "No. You'll be my wife tomorrow. We don't have to share a room until we're husband and wife."