bar?â
âHeâs short on his rent.â
âDonât kid yourself, Jenny; how often does he pull that? Every payday, I suppose.â
Jenny smiled wearily. âNo, he missed one last month. Look, Erich, please leave those dishes. I can do them myself.â
âYouâve got far too much work to do as it is.â
Silently Jenny picked up a towel. Why had Kevin chosen just this evening to walk in? What a fool she was to hand him money.
The rigid disapproval in Erichâs face and stance began to ease. He took the towel from her hands.
âThatâs enough of that,â he smiled.
He poured wine into fresh glasses and brought it over to the couch. She sat beside him, keenly aware of a deep but vague intensity about him. She tried to analyze her feelings and could not. In a little while Erich would leave. Tomorrow morning he was going back to Minnesota. Tomorrow night at this time sheâd be here by herself again. She thought of the happiness on the childrenâs faces when Erich read to them, the blessed relief sheâd felt when he appeared beside her and took Beth from her. Lunch and dinner had been such fun, as though by his very presence he could dispel worry and loneliness.
âJenny.â His voice was tender. âWhat are you thinking?â
She tried to smile. âI donât think I was thinking. I was . . . just content, I suppose.â
âAnd I donât know when Iâve been this content. Jenny, youâre sure youâre not still in love with Kevin MacPartland.â
She was astonished enough to laugh. âGood Lord, no.â
âThen why are you so willing to give him money?â
âA misguided feeling of responsibility, I suppose. The worry that maybe he does need his rent.â
âJenny, I have an early flight tomorrow morning. But I can get back to New York for the weekend. Are you free on Friday night?â
He was coming back to see her. The same delicious sense of relief and pleasure that had been hers when he suddenly appeared on Second Avenue filled her. âIâm free. Iâll find a sitter.â
âHow about Saturday? Do you think the children would enjoy going to the Central Park Zoo if it isnât too cold? And then we could take them to Rumpelmayerâs for lunch.â
âTheyâd love it. But, Erich, really . . .â
âIâm not only sorry I canât just stay in New York for a while. But Iâve got a meeting in Minneapolis about some investments Iâm planning to make. Oh, may I. . . ?â
He had spotted the photo album on the shelf under the cocktail table.
âIf you wish. Itâs not terribly exciting.â
They sipped wine as he inspected the book. âThatâs me being picked up at the childrenâs home,â she told him. âI was adopted. Those are my new parents.â
âTheyâre a nice-looking young couple.â
âI donât remember them at all. They were in anautomobile accident when I was fourteen months old. After that it was just Nana and me.â
âIs that a picture of your grandmother?â
âYes. She was fifty-three when I was born. I remember when I was in the first grade and came home with a long face because the kids were making Fatherâs Day cards and I didnât have a father. She said, âListen, Jenny, Iâm your mother, Iâm your father, Iâm your grandmother, Iâm your grandfather. Iâm all you need. You make me a card for Fatherâs Day!ââ
She felt Erichâs arm around her shoulders. âNo wonder you miss her so.â
Hurriedly Jenny went on: âNana worked in a travel agency. We took some terrific trips. See, here we are in England. I was fifteen. This is our trip to Hawaii.â
When they came to the pictures of her wedding to Kevin, Erich closed the album. âItâs getting late,â he said. âYou must be