In the months that followed I came to know Marian and Elise fairly well, particularly Elise. Elise and I spent the first month of our acquaintance looking for houses outside of Chicago. I realized that Jeff was right about starting our family together with our own place. I wasn't sure why he thought I should go with Elise and the children, perhaps he thought I needed company. It did seem like having the children and Elise there was a good idea. At first the homes we visited were much too small given the staff and my requirement for a garden. After about a month of failure Jeff spoke with the real estate agent, a man named Henry Sparks who began showing us larger homes with acres of land. Jeff insisted that Mr. Sparks drove us. Jeff had a driver take me everywhere. It was unspoken but I wasn't allowed to drive the car myself, despite having had my own license for some time. Driving was a necessity in Bend when I lived out by Frank and Mary. It wasn't that their houses were so far from each other, it was that both our places were a good drive from town. For several years I was able to get along fine, driving in the old car that Frank helped me find second hand, nothing like the cars Jeff owned; an alfa romeo sedan for him and a Desoto wagon for us, our family car. In the case of finding a house, having Mr. Sparks drive was a good idea. I was able to pay attention to the neighborhoods and houses. I thought we looked like a circus troupe: Mr. Sparks in his fedora driving in the front seat, Elise and I in back pouring over the brochures, and the children in the very back crawling around.

One afternoon Mr. Sparks drove about forty minutes outside of Chicago to a mostly rural area. He turned on to a long country road and for several miles we only passed one small lane that I presumed led to a property. He reached into the back seat and handed me another small brochure. It had a sketch of a house on it. Calling it a house was doing it an injustice. It really seemed more like a mansion to me.

"It has a little over 40 acres," he said looking at me in the rearview mirror then returning his eyes to the road, slowing down and turning down a second lane at least a mile from the last. Upon pulling on to the lane, we passed a set of stone pillars with iron lanterns on top with amber glass panes, as we drove into the property I saw that there was a cast iron that went on for a ways in both directions. It must have circled the property. We also went through a long iron gate that was opened so we could enter. The first stretch of the property was full of trees and that's why I hadn't noticed the fence right away, but once I did it gave me the feeling of an enchanted fairy tale.

"It's empty." Mr. Sparks remarked, "The owners have already moved out. There are already a few lovely gardens, but you would be able to make it your own." Both Elise and I were craning our necks, scanning the property. "There's so much land. Mr. Lambert said that you wanted some acreage." The lane curved and the terrain changed into manicured lawns and sections of yard with large oak trees.

He pointed to the left where there was an even smaller lane off the road, shrouded in trees with just enough room for a car to fit. "If you drive past the property there, there's a road that leads to a small, charming guest house. You have to walk from the main house, but you can't see if from here. It's pretty far off from the main property. The other road is off Taylor Drive, it's shrouded but easier to the guest house that way."

I nodded. It all seemed unreal. Finally, we pulled into a semi-circular driveway and in front of the home. It was a very large place but didn't seem ostentatious to me. It was built in 1930, and looked like an English cottage. The main part of the house was mostly stonework. There were tall windows in the very front, in what I assumed to be the entry or music room. The remainder of the exterior held plenty of smaller paned windows. As soon as we parked, Clara and Charlie jumped out of the car and ran towards the back of the house.

"Clara! Charlie!" I called out to them as Elise exited the car holding Jeffery.

"I'll go after them Eve."

"Is it all right?" I asked Mr. Sparks. "For them to explore?"

"Yes, but not too far," he said. "There's a lot of property and a small stream, farther back by the guest house there's a pond and a foot bridge."

Elise started down the grounds to go watch the children. "Elise" I called to her, "Do you want me to hold Jeffery?"

She walked back towards me with the little bundle in her arms. He was sleepy from looking for houses all afternoon, but I knew in no time he'd he full of energy squirming out of my arms.

"Are you sure, Eve?" she asked. I could see she was relieved.

"Of course." I took Jeffery from her and he snuggled in my arms. He was sucking his thumb and looking around the unfamiliar surroundings. His eyes examined me and I felt them on me as I turned to Mr. Sparks. Mr. Sparks was on the porch that surrounded the house. It was also made of stone and had several levels of terraced patios. He was on the one nearest the house, the highest one.

"Isn't it beautiful Mrs. Lambert? It was just placed on the market. I think it would be perfect for your family."

"Is it an awful lot of money."

He smiled at me. "Yes. It is. Come on. Let me show you around." As he put the key in the lock, I ran my hand over the stone exterior. It was rough and cold. Unlike my first impressions, when I stood on the covered porch, the place had such a feeling of grandeur. It had Tudor details, some of the upper areas of the exterior were white with decorative timber beams. The roof was steeply pitched with gables. There was a stone turret with windows following the curves. It appeared a sitting room.

"Would you like to come in?"

I wasn't ready. I didn't know why. "Can we walk around the house, see it from the outside first?"

"Of course."

As I circled the grassy lawn around the house, I took in its beauty. It was in fact very large, but still I wouldn't have said it was a mansion. I looked towards the pond where the footbridge was and I could see Elise with Clara and Charlie. Clara was lying on the grass by the bank of the pond and Charlie was throwing rocks or sticks into the water. It was a bit of a distance but I could see clearly that Elise was holding Charlie's hand monitoring how close he was to the water. I was still holding Jeffery; he had opened his eyes. He was still sleepy and easy to manage. I knew shortly he'd want to run around and get into things. I didn't want to burden Elise with another child while she managed the other two. I would let him run around once we began the tour of the inside.

'It's very beautiful isn't it?" I said, half to myself. I was already dreaming of the gardens and raising the children here.

"Wait until you see the inside" Mr. Sparks said. I could see he was enthusiastic about this house after showing me so many that were all wrong for our family.

"Mr. Lambert said it was all right? This much money, I mean."

Mr. Sparks nodded. "I showed him the pictures before we made the appointment. He said he liked it but that it was up to you to decide. He said the cost was all right."

I walked around the rest of the house. I could see there would be a bucolic view from every room.

"How many rooms?"

"There are eight bedrooms and four baths. Of course a kitchen. It's rather large. I think it will suit you fine. There's a conservatory in the turret which is just spectacular. A library, parlor and several other large sitting rooms."

"That's something," I said, almost to myself.

"Should we go inside and have a look?" he pressed.

"Yes." I examined Mr. Sparks as I followed him into the house. He was about Jeff's age, maybe forty. That realization struck me as a bit of a surprise. I hadn't realized I'd known Jeff almost seven years. It didn't seem possible. I suppose it made sense but to imagine myself almost thirty and Jeff almost forty, I felt a sort of loss. I knew that I was an entirely different person and it worried me that he might want a girl, not a woman. Someone naive and enchanted with him as I had been. Maybe he would want who I had been; choosing to beg him to love me when he was angry with me, rather than construct a wall of stone, full of the implication that I could and would leave him. I'd been the former for the first years of our affair, but since then I'd changed. It seemed that when we fought, once I was older, I let my expression shift to something close to rejection. Yet, I continued to defer to him in all important matters. I didn't completely know why I did that. It made me feel safe and taken care of. So he managed the finances, and even my own comings and goings to some extent. I listened to his ideas and opinions much more than he did mine. It didn't bother me. The things that filled my days were hard to put into words, how do you tell a man about hours tromping through the woods with children, walking at their pace, kneeling on the ground inspecting mushrooms? The days were full of little mundane moments, but important ones. Pulling their hands back just as they are about to touch poisonous mushrooms, fearing they would ingest them.

As much as I wanted to see the interior, I was so captivated by the outside. I looked out the window towards one of the gardens. There was a row of forsythia bushes, large and mature. It reminded me of one of Clara's "shows" musical plays she'd put on. She'd dressed Charlie and Jeffery in foolish-looking, but adorable costumes made with scarves, Jeff's old shirts, taffeta I'd cut from my old, out of style dresses. Elise and I had made Clara's face up with powder and rouge. It seemed during my first month with them all Clara wanted to do was make up musical plays. Elise had told me that when Margaret was alive, she would take Clara to the movies sometimes and even though the stories would be far above Clara's head, Clara would become mesmerized with the synchronized, ensemble dancing and singing in the musicals. I thought that was a sweet piece of information about Margaret. The more I got to know Jeff and the children, the more curious I was about this ghost of a woman. A part of her was still inside of these children's spirits. In the few pictures I found of her, she looked more like an apparition than a woman.

"That sounds lovely," I had said, but Elise didn't show affection in her face. It seemed to me she didn't have a fond relationship with Margaret.

"To be honest, that was the only time she spent with Clara and I think it had more to do with her escaping the house and avoiding Mr. Lambert. She went to the movies often. She didn't take Clara with her very often."

Elise's comments had caused a deep sadness to descend on me. From what Jeff had told me combined with Elise's comments, it sounded to me like the house was dead. That was all during my affair with Jeff. Having him with me in my home had filled the house with light and energy. I'd had so much adoration for him as he had shared his secrets with me. I thought about the sketches too he'd shown me on our wedding night. Why had I been so eager to consume the time of a married man? Thinking of Margaret always made me feel less respectable. Perhaps, I was.

On that day, out in the large wooded park in Chicago watching the children's musical play, Elise whispered to me so as not to interrupt the performance, "It's nice to have you, Eve. I like you very much. You've filled our lives with love." I'd lost my breath. Her words consoled my guilty heart.

Mr. Sparks waited patiently, starting to say something but then waiting for me. I was still looking out the window. I sensed he didn't mind because it would have been advantageous for me to fall in love with the house.

"Would it be all right," I asked. If I take just another moment? I love this view so much." The forsythia in this yard were mature and large, the tunnel under their branches would accommodate the children's theatrical aspirations much better than the ones in garden at the apartment building or in Chicago Park.

I again thought about that day in the warm sun. Charlie and Jeff under the complete direction of Clara. I vacillated from that present moment with Mr. Sparks to the day with the children. I was stuck in the memory and lost in thought. It was a realization that I loved them so dearly. It was the connection between the beginning of my relationship with them and what we'd become together two years later. They needed me so much and it caused an aching in my heart, it also healed some of the torment that had stalked me since the hospital. I smiled as I recollected Clara running out from beneath the forsythia, draped in taffeta, bright lipstick." SHHH." She was growing impatient with Elise and my talking.

"All right, Darling. We're ready." Then, Charlie had emerged from within the cavernous insides of the overgrown, ancient bushes. I had laughed out loud. Clara had him in an apron, a bright red scarf tied around his head like a turban. He had been wearing beads and red lipstick. Clara had nudged him to the front of the "stage" and Elise and I had sat on the grass holding back laughter. Clara had walked to Charlie who had been about to cry. She kissed him and took his hands and then started singing a fella with an umbrella. I didn't know how she remembered any of it; she didn't know all the words, but ended the show with a very adorable tap dance. Charlie had pulled off the scarf and apron and crawled back under the forsythia and seemed to exit the other side.

I rarely told Jeff any of these stories about the children, except when he was the focus. One time Clara had sat with me on the bench at my dressing table while I fixed my hair and make up. I always took a bath late in the afternoon and prepared for Jeff to return from the art institute. On some occasions he'd stay late in his studio or was lecturing at an event at the museum or institute. In those cases I would eat with Marian, Elise and the children which was equally enjoyable. One such afternoon Clara had wandered into my room and climbed up next to me on the bench at my dressing table. I scooted over to make room and looked at the reflection of this tiny, precocious child and myself. I had grown to love her dearly and just like with Charlie, every time I gazed upon her, I was filled with a kind of awe and protective devotion. Her hair was long and curly. It was red and it complemented her pale skin, dotted with freckles about her nose. Ordinarily Elise had the child's hair in barrettes or braided and pinned up. Clara was supposed to be becoming a refined little girl, but her spirit was not entirely suited to meet this expectation. That day her hair was down and it was abundant and breathtaking. I turned and touched her slender face.

"Can I fix your hair?" she had asked and without my answering she picked up the brush, she kneeled on the bench beside me and began brushing it. I resumed powdering my face. Clara had just started at a little preschool nearby and a neighbor had agreed to provide a ride back and forth. It worked better because without my being able to drive, we would have had to arrange for a driver and I felt it would be embarrassing for Clara.

"There's a boy Nicolas."

"Yes, you've told me," I said as she gently pulled the brush through my hair. That gentleness she must have learned from Elise.

"He's in love with me."

"Really, I'm not surprised at all." I kept my tone the same as if I were earnestly speaking with a girlfriend. I smiled at her and when I glanced back at the mirror. She had a serious look on her face as though she were considering the implications of this development in her young life.

"He sits right beside me on the floor when the teacher is reading to us. He tries to hold my hand and tells me he loves me. He says it so much he's scolded by Miss Nelson and has to go sit in the hallway for five minutes." She stops and looks at me in the mirror, shaking her head.

"Well, that certainly is something." I had said.

"He asked me to marry him today." She'd stopped and held the brush by her side. I turned and looked at her. She appeared genuinely confused. "I can't marry him, mommy." She said seriously.

I put my arm around her waist, "Why is that darling?"

"Because I'm going to marry daddy when I grow up." I laughed as she put her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. She stayed closed and examined my face. She raised her hand and touched my cheek. "You're so pretty. I love you."

I retold Jeff the part of the story where she said she was going to marry him. "I don't know what I'll do then," I teased him.

"Yes. I suppose it will be hard for you. But, I promise to maintain your standard of living no matter what happens."

"Aren't you a darling?" I said and moved closer to him on the couch. I pressed my lips against his.

He touched my cheek, "You love my children don't you?"

I woke from my reverie. "I'm sorry Mr. Sparks. I got lost imagining...I can really see us living here." I smiled at him, "It really does feel like home." I felt that house would mark the start of my life with my family. I was happier than I ever had been. From the moment we walked into the foyer, that was it, I turned back to Mr. Sparks and told I wanted the house.

We moved in very quickly and were settled in no time. Often when the children were in bed and Jeff was still at the studio, I would walk through the empty, beautiful rooms. I'd tour them slowly taking in the wall to ceiling bookshelves in the den, the beautiful wall of French doors in the parlor that was open and adjacent to the music room. The piano was to the side of the room, on a round raised marble platform. That part of the house was my favorite. The furniture was more casual, a sofa the children could climb on. The room itself looked out over the open lawns and there was a glimpse of the pond through the windows of the French doors. There was a large plush oriental rug in the sitting area. Floor lamps and upholstered chairs. That was where Jeff drank his scotch in the evenings and we sat and talked.

One night I was taking such a tour of the house after everyone had gone to sleep. I walked through the long hallway on the first floor and into Jeff's study. It was so masculine in its décor. Long plaid drapes hung from the tall windows in front of which was an antique desk that the previous owners had sold with the house. I ran my hands over the backs of the leather club chairs. I examined the couch and the paintings that hung on the wall behind it. None of them were Jeff's. He'd once told me they were of artists who were on their way to becoming significant. I didn't really know what that meant. Maybe people he knew or from galleries that he respected. One of the paintings was a large canvas framed in carved dark wood. It was a painting of fields of wild flowers. Goldenrod, lupine and daisy's. The colors reminded me of a bright day in the back of my house in Bend. The feeling of standing in the expansive yard with wildflowers just at the little meadow at the edge of the woods. The memory was a good one and it reminded me of what my life had been destined for, before the hospital. I was settling into a rural life. I would have had enormous gardens. There was even a man I was starting to spend time with. Then, Jeff's revenge came. It was an abrupt halt. That dream died.

"What are you doing in here?" Jeff's voice broke the silence of the nighttime house.

I turned to him. He looked tired. He examined me. "Why are you in my study?"

The way he said My. It seemed off putting to me. Of course it was his. I wouldn't invade his privacy. "I don't know," I said honestly. Sometimes I just walk through the house. I'm trying to make myself believe this is all true. I ended up in here. I was looking at the painting. The one of the wildflowers. It reminded me of Bend."

He shifted his weight. I could see he was uncomfortable. I walked over to him and stood in front of him. I loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar. "Are you tired darling?"

"Eve. I don't want you in my study."

"I wasn't going through your things."

"Even so."

"I'm sorry."

He turned and started out of the room. I followed him. "What time is it?" I asked him, "Can I get you a drink."

When we entered the sitting room, he seemed much less irritated with me. "It's 11. Will you stay up with me," he said sitting down on the sofa, "will you talk with me for a little while?"

"Of course." I bent down and reached for a glass in the liquor cabinet to fix him a scotch. When I stood up again, he was standing behind me. He put his arms around my waist and leaned into me. He began kissing my neck.

"What are you doing?" I laughed, "Don't you want a drink?"

"I love you so much," he whispered and unbuttoned my shirt. I felt dizzy and I turned facing him and kissed him.

As much as I disliked Jeff's sister and father, I loved his friends. They were artists and intellectuals. Some of them were writers and they would talk about their books or poems. They met on weekends at different houses and smoked and talked about politics and art. The women were different than the housewives I'd known in Sellwood or the bridge ladies in Bend. These ladies wore trousers and button up shirts, straight skirts with tight sweaters and pumps. I didn't change my appearance so much but I didn't feel out of place.

One afternoon we were at Jeff's closest colleague, Ed's lake house. It was about forty-five minutes from Chicago and he had a cottage that was just a few steps down the to edge of the lake. To one side he had a grassy area set up with Adirondack chairs and blankets. There were little seating arrangements where groups could congregate. Some of our friends brought their children and despite Jeff insistence that our children stay home with Elsie, I didn't want them to miss the fun at the lake. "I'll care for them if they start misbehaving." He reluctantly agreed to let them come with us. Still, he grew irritated with me for offering to watch the children by myself. He always expressed disdain when I took on domestic responsibilities—even caring for the children by myself. I didn't know what he expected of me. It seemed he wanted Marian and Elise to do everything and for me to act as a society lady. That seemed so hypocritical when we were with his group of friends who didn't behave that way. They were vehemently opposed to elitism.

As it turned out Ed and his girlfriend Margie had two of the older teenage girls watch all the younger children and we were uninterrupted the entire visit. We all sat outside, the day was warm and the temperature was comfortable in the shade of the enormous oak trees that shrouded the lake on one side. I was talking with Margie and we were all drinking gin and tonics. Jeff was in another group and periodically I looked over to him and he'd give me a subtle smile so I felt we were tethered together. I also felt he was proud that I was able to mix with these people I'd just met and not linger by his side, insecure and dependent. Ed replaced Margie and my gin and tonics with two more. I was starting to get drunk so I knew I'd have to slow down. I put the glass on the ground next to me.

"What's the matter Eve?" Ed asked me.

"What's the matter with what?"

"Don't you want the drink?"

"Of course I do, but my children are nearby. I can't overdo it."

Ed had obviously been drinking. He had a looseness about him. He was wearing a white t-shirt and Bermuda shorts. He was a sculptor and I couldn't help but look down at his hands as he spoke. He held them together, unconsciously rubbing them together. For an instant, I was mesmerized by this gesture. It seemed so artistic and tender. I looked up at him and smiled. He was very handsome, in a different way than Jeff. His dark hair was a little longer, he had a larger build, more the body of a lifeguard or baseball player. His manner was confident with a hint of humility. I couldn't tell if the humility was authentic or just part of his outward persona.

Margie, a very thin, pretty girl looked quite a few years younger than Ed. He looked about my age. Maybe early thirties. Margie had an extroverted manner and was always smoking cigarettes, telling stories and waving her hands in the air. She was one of his graduate students but had told me once that she had no intention of finishing. I didn't know if she was just drunk, but she said she wanted to be an airline hostess. Mostly for the uniforms she said. "I swear I'll become an airline hostess unless this one proposes to me!" I knew, without knowing either of them very long, that Ed wasn't going to marry Margie. It seemed Margie was too young to see that for herself.

"Ed. Why are you harassing the poor girl? If she doesn't want a drink, don't make her have one." Margie picked up my gin and tonic and took a sip. "I'll have it!" Then Margie added, "You should take a lesson from her and stop drinking so damned much."

Ed looked at me and rolled his eyes, neither of us could help but laugh. Margie was so damned funny even if she did drink too much.

"I'm sorry Eve. Maybe he wasn't harassing you, I can't remember now." She was slurring a little and squinted one eye at me. "I don't even remember what he said to you."

"Oh no. Really, I didn't take it any way."

Margie excused herself and then it was just Ed and me sitting together. Most of the people had milled out and left for home. I felt conspicuous there alone with him. I looked over at Jeff who was still talking with the group. The next time his eyes landed on me, they were questioning. A smile didn't cross his lips. I raised my eyebrows and smiled as if to say "what should I do?" A part of me knew exactly what I should do. I should go sit by Jeff's side and listen to his ideas about philosophy, but for some reason, I didn't. I turned back to Ed.

"I can see from your hands that you're a sculptor."

"Wow." He responded. "That's pretty good." He looked at me for a moment, holding a piece of ice in his mouth and swishing it around before he swallowed. "I'm impressed."

"Well, of course I knew you were even though we hadn't spoken about it." I felt flustered and nervous. My comment catching up with me as I continued. "It was an incredibly stupid thing to say."

"It sounds like you have an uncanny ability to predict things that are plainly evident."

I smiled and half admonished him. "That's not a very nice thing to say. It is the way you move your hands. It made me think that, I'd forgotten in the moment."

"Well, you're right. That's what I am."

"And," I said, pausing for a moment, picking up my unfinished drink, "you are a teacher. Like Jeff." I sipped my gin and tonic."

"Wrong on that account. We're actually quite different sorts of teachers. I wouldn't say I teach like him."

"Is this how its going to be?" I teased.

"Yes, I teach with Jeff at the Art Institute." He shook the ice in his glass.

I nodded. "I'd like to see your sculptures."

"Come to the studio sometime with Jeff."

"I'll do that." I lingered for a moment on his blue eyes. It wasn't attraction, more a curiosity. He smoothed his dark brown hair back, longer than Jeff's but still clean cut.

"I should go sit with Jeff."

"Yes," Ed remarked, "he hasn't taken his eyes off you. I get the feeling he's the jealous type."

"You have no idea."

He let out a small laugh. "See you."

I stood and walked back over to Jeff. I sat on the chair next to him and reached for his hand. I rubbed his arm. He was talking about Hegel. Society and rules. In Jeff's opinion, pacifism wasn't a moral issue. It was an issue of philosophy. Just as totalitarianism wasn't. "What the hell are you talking about?" another man blurted.

"Listen," Jeff corrected. "If you believe that rules of society..."

I stood and walked down to the lake. I saw children were playing. I could see that the teenage girl was holding Jeffery who was asleep. Clara was digging at the shore. I didn't see Charlie. I put my hand over my eyes like a visor, maybe the refection was blinding my view. I still didn't see him. I walked down to the water asked the girl where he'd gone to. I took Jeffery into my arms.

"When was the last time you saw him?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't remember."

"Well you should remember!" I rushed back up to the house. Jeff was standing and stretching then shook another man's hand.

"Looks like my wife is ready to go home." He said

"No. I can't find Charlie."

Jeff turned to me, "well where'd he go?"

"I don't know. Will you help me look for him?"

Margie rose and reached for Jeffery. She had been drinking too much.

"No, it's all right sweetheart. I've got him. He's fussy when he's tired."

"He must be in the house somewhere," Ed said, standing and walking over to us.

Jeff didn't seem worried but I was. I opened the rickety door and looked around the kitchen and small living room. There were towels and clothes all over from when people dropped their things on their way in or out of the lake. "Charlie?" I called.

"Mommy. I'm in here!" he called from upstairs.

I felt relief wash over me. Inside I had a terrible feeling about the dark, rusty lake water. I had a feeling he'd thrown a stick that had drifted out too far. I imagined the worst. I navigated the narrow stairs with Jeffery in my arms, holding on to the wall. There was only a small bedroom and rustic bathroom. Both were right there when you got to the landing. When I pushed opened the bedroom door, I was frozen in shock. Charlie had a revolver and was holding it straight out in front of him. When I walked into the room, I walked in with the baby directly in the line of fire should he have pulled the trigger.

"Charlie," I said calmly lowering my voice remaining firm but careful not to frighten him. "Darling put the gun on the bed."

"Do you think it works?" He had that mischievous glint in his eye that I was seeing more and more. He was growing up to be more rebellious than I would have expected from the silly, complacent baby that he was.

"Darling it's not funny. Do as I say this instant." I wanted to put Jeffery down so should the gun go off he'd be safe. I was afraid of any quick moves. I wanted to call for Jeff, but I feared that too could cause Charlie to pull the trigger. He was clearly curious about what the effect would be.

"Now." I said.

He grimaced and looked at the bed. He lowered the gun but didn't put it down.

"Do you want a spanking? Put it down now or you will get a spanking!" I raised my voice slightly.

He walked over to the bed and placed it on its side. "Now walk away and come stand with momma." He suddenly had a look of fear on his face. Perhaps, he'd just realized what he'd done. Perhaps he sensed from my tone and my threat of punishment that he'd stumbled into a far graver circumstance than he'd realized.

"Jeff!" I yelled, holding Jeffery and Charlie close to me.

I heard Jeff coming up the stairs, he walked into the room. Tanned, with his sunglasses on. He was holding a toothpick between his teeth. "I'm ready darling. I'm just waiting for you." He said, but when looked at me and his expression changed. He turned and looked at the bed. At that moment Ed came into the room too.

Jeff walked over and picked up the gun. "What the hell is this Ed?"

"Oh Jesus I'm sorry. I never think that children will be up here."
"Charlie was playing with it when I came up," I whispered. "He was pointing it at us."

Ed was still loose from the alcohol, he raised his shoulders and made an expression of "oops" and raised his eyebrows.

"It's not a joke," Jeff countered. "Jesus my boy was playing with a loaded gun." I watched to see Jeff press down on something and turn the cylinder. He methodically clicked it. "The thing is loaded."

"It wouldn't have gone off unless it was cocked." Ed said.

I shook my head and looked at Jeff in disbelief.

"Are you Goddamned crazy, Ed? I'm not going to bring my children here any more if you don't get rid of this thing."

Ed took the gun from Jeff and opened a cabinet high above the closet. "I'll put it here for now and before you come back, I'll get rid of it."

When we got downstairs we all had calmed down and it was as though nothing had happened. Charlie squirmed away from me and was eating one of the last slices of cake, sitting on the picnic table. I smiled and Ed approached us. "Thank you for the invitation," I said. "It was lovely. Really."

Ed had sobered a bit. "I'm sorry, Eve. I really am."

"Honestly, we were just startled. That's all. It was Charlie's fault. Not yours."

Just then Margie ran out and put her arms around me. She seemed intoxicated and when she leaned close to my face I could smell her sweet perfume mixed with gin. "We are going out dancing on Friday."

Ed laughed an pulled her off me. He kissed her, but she pulled away. "I'm not going to forget. We are all –the four of us—going out dancing."

I started laughing and kissed her on the cheek. "Yes!" I turned to Jeff. "Don't you think we should, darling?"

He smiled at Ed, "Whatever my wife wants."

On the way home in the car, the children were asleep in the back. Jeff turned to me. "I don't know why you've ever worried about your reputation."

He caught me off guard. "What do you mean?"

"Since I've known you, mostly since you became pregnant you have worried that people would think of you as an indecent woman."

I raised my eyebrows and pulled my cardigan tighter. "I don't think I want to know what you're talking about."

He looked at me tenderly and touched my arm. He was speaking softly so the children who were falling asleep in the back seat, couldn't hear. He turned back to the road. "Eve. I'm just saying that wherever you go people love you. Looking at you tonight you looked like a—you're so God damned beautiful," he whispered. "You're more than that. I can't take my eyes of you. No one could ever think of you as immoral."

"Those were all your friends sweetheart. They aren't like most people. I wonder sometimes if some of them even secretly believe I'm—after all they knew Margaret. They know that Charlie is your son."

'They didn't know Margaret" he said matter of factly.
"What are you talking about?"

"She was afraid to leave the house."

"At all? Not even to meet your friends?"

"I believe she went to the movies."

We did wind up going dancing with Ed and Margie the next Friday night. I dressed in a silk midnight blue dress. It had a v-neck in the front and back and the skirt was pleated with a little tooling so it moved with the music. Before we left Jeff asked me not to drink too much, not that I ever did. We arrived outside a jazz club and waited for Ed and Margie. When they got there, Margie ran over and hugged me. She put her arm around my shoulder and led me inside.

"I'm glad you're my new friend," she said.

I smiled at her and said "me too."

"I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship." She stopped and looked me in the eye, her face full of anticipation. "Casablanca. Right? A start of a beautiful friendship!" She started laughing and then I did too. Ed caught up with us, he put his arm around Margie. He smiled at me, "Isn't she funny?"

I let them go ahead and I walked behind with Jeff. I heard Ed say "what's a nice girl like you doing—"She slapped his chest teasing, "Oh stop!"

I looked at Jeff and smiled. He lifted my hand and kissed it.

We sat down at a table and Jeff went up to the bar to get drinks. Ed joined us, looking up at the woodwork around the club. The ceilings were high and the place looked like it had been a fancy theater converted into a dance club. Ed's eyes finally landed on me. "And how are you Eve? You look very nice as usual." He shook a cigarette from his pack and put it in his mouth. He struck a match and ignited it. He handed it to Margie then lit one for himself. "Do you want one Eve?"

"No. Thank you."

Margie looked at me seriously for a moment. "You really do, Eve. You always look so nice. There's something about you that I really like."

I reached over and squeezed her hand. "You're the pretty one."

"Did you know Eve's a fortune teller, Margie?"

I couldn't help but smile, then roll my eyes. I shook my head.

"Her unique talent is to see into the present." Ed took a long drag, his eyes still on me. If he was flirting, Margie didn't seem to notice. A part of me thought he was but a bigger part of me knew he was just teasing me.

Margie made an exaggerated inquisitive face. Even with her drama, she was still quite lovely. "How do you see into the present?"

Jeff returned and I saw that his eyes meet Eds. He squinted a little and then smiled. "Ed?" he handed him the drink. "Darling," he said to me and gave me a fizzy drink. Margie had the same. That night, the four of us talked a bit but mostly we danced. After a long stretch of dancing, Jeff said he was going to sit the next one out and have a cigarette. Margie was very drunk and said she wanted to sit down too.

"Should we keep dancing?" Ed asked me. Then he turned to Jeff. "Would that be all right with you Jeff? If I borrow your wife for a dance or two?"

Jeff nodded but looked at me with a questioning glance. His blue eyes seemed even brighter than usual. I sensed he was keenly aware of the situation. I wasn't certain I should stay on the dance floor, but Jeff said "Sure Eve go ahead."

Jeff led Margie back to the table and she put her head down. Ed and I kept dancing. Ed was playfully trying to spin me and he held my hand, sometimes both hands. I couldn't help but laugh with him. He was acting very silly, as if we were in a contest. Pretty soon we were obscured by other dancers and I couldn't see the table where Jeff and Margie were seated. I smiled at Ed and after a few songs said "I should go back."

"What about the contest?" He shouted over the loud scene. He took my hand and led me back towards the table. He released it before we stepped up on to the balcony where we had been sitting. Jeff raised his eyebrows as we sat back down. Ed looked at Margie and shook her a little, "Margie are you all right?" She let out an unintelligible string of words. "I'd better get her home." Ed said, lifting her and putting her arm around his shoulder.

Jeff nodded and I smiled and said "all right. It was good to see you both." Jeff stood and said "I'll see you Monday."

"All right."

Jeff sat back down and swallowed down the rest of his scotch. Then it was just Jeff at me at the table. The club had grown crowded and loud. "Want to go home?" I asked him. He just nodded and took my hand. I felt guilty but I knew I hadn't done anything. Or maybe I had. I really didn't know. He didn't seem angry but still he didn't say anything. He held his hand on my lower back and guided me through the crowd. We stopped at the coat check and he retrieved my coat, handing the girl a coin. He held the sleeves out and I slid my arms in. Still he hadn't said a word.

I turned to him, "are you angry with me?"

aWe waited out front for the valet and there was a chill in the air. He stared ahead and lit a cigarette. Closed one eye for a second while he took a deep drag. "Cool out, isn't it?" he finally blurted and it was formal as if I were a stranger and we were simply both waiting for our cars. I looked down and felt as if I'd start crying. I was able to take a breath and summons my rule about my emotions. Just as I had learned in the hospital. I could stop things by just a moment of concentration and minimal effort. I knew this was not a situation where it would be dangerous to express myself. Yet, I didn't want to give any more power to Jeff than he already had, despite how much I loved him. The valet pulled the car up to the club entrance. Jeff tipped him too before opening my door. I slid into the passenger's seat. He sat down in the driver's seat and the valet closed the door. He turned to me, "Will you be too warm in your jacket?"

That was an odd thing to say, I thought. "Why?"

"I thought you'd be more comfortable without it."

"If you thinks so. If that's the case, I shouldn't have put it on in the first place."

He looked at me knowingly but I had no idea what he thought he knew. I accepted that perhaps he was angry with me for dancing with Ed. I sensed that Ed was paying a little too much attention to me, all harmless I was sure but Jeff's tolerance for things like that was very minimal. I didn't want to bring it up. Instead, I looked out the window at the tall buildings, all lit up. I wanted to ask Jeff why they didn't turn off the lights at night. It seemed like it was a waste of a lot of electricity. But maybe there was a logistical or practical reason. I don't know why that question kept bouncing around in my head. Likely nerves. In that moment with the silence, him smoking and looking straight ahead, with no words for me, I figured it was better not to small talk. The lights on the dash lit his face in a pale white glow. I looked at him for a long moment. We were out of the city and had turned off the highway on to the main road that led to our town. We would drive past farms on our way home, another twenty minutes.

"I'm tired," I said, trying to get him to respond to me, in order to gauge his mood.

"From all that dancing I'll bet." He said, looked at me for a moment and tossed his cigarette out the window. "Ed likes you." His voice was calm.

"I like him too. He's nice."

"No, I mean he wants you."

"Oh come on, don't be crazy. He doesn't."

"The last time we were at the lake, he had a bunch of drinks. He told me he thought you were beautiful."

"That's very nice but of course he would say that."

"You are Eve. You're like a film star. You always have been. You don't have to pretend that you don't know that about yourself."

Jeff turned the car off the main road onto a dirt one that I didn't recognize. We were still fifteen minutes from home. "Why are you pulling off here?"

He kept driving and didn't say anything.

"Are you angry with me?" I asked. He had so many sides and this was one I didn't recognize. I couldn't read what he was feeling or what he expected me to do. He turned off the car. We were parked near a field in total darkness. I could hear rustling sounds and crickets but nothing more. The silence was like the farmland in Bend, a quiet I'd found so comforting.

I moved closer to him, "are you angry with me?"

"Do you think Ed wants you?"

I shook my head. "No."

"I do."

"Oh," I whispered.

"I watched you two together dancing."

I nodded and just looked into his eyes. They turned from serious to curious.

"Are you upset?" I asked again.

"No." he said. He turned his head to the side. I was close enough for him to touch me and he ran his hand through my hair. "I liked knowing he wants you. And that I can have you whenever I want."

He leaned over and kissed me. I was relieved and also, perhaps it was the tension leading up to it or the seductive quality of the moment but it made me want him more. I really had known that Ed thought I was attractive. I knew he wanted to dance with me and maybe I liked Jeff knowing it too. I would have never let it rise to my consciousness.

Jeff unzipped my dress and pulled the top down, I felt his hands on my silk slip. "I like knowing men want you. They do. Not just Ed." I didn't say anything but slid down further in the seat. He moved his hand under my dress and unhooked my stocking. He felt my skin under the silk stocking and touched my thigh. I felt electricity run through me.

"How long have we been married?" he whispered kissing my neck. He was inside of me and I felt his strength.

"Two years." I said then kissed him again.

He pulled away from me but didn't look at me. "Oh my God," he whispered, "You drive me crazy even after all this time." He started kissing me and it was almost violent.

"Jeff?" I whispered, but he couldn't hear me.