Again Rob felt an impulse to delay. "I've run into Monsieur Joubert already. Doesn't he have a keen suit on, though!"

Debra beamed at Julianne. "And you were telling us about his conservative taste in clothes!"

"Look at what he's wearing now. Deb," Julianne said.

"Office uniform," Rob said airily.

"A good-looking guy like you would really set off designer menswear," Debra said.

"I know what I'm getting you for Christmas," Julianne threatened. "Green suede!"

Rob stared soberly into Debra's eyes-at least those were unchanged-and said, "Julianne's always right about this sort of thing." He gave the words the push, the muscle.

Debra blinked. "Of course she is," she assured him. "Why, without her nothing would get done around here!"

"I'm so glad you think so," Rob said uncomfortably.

Julianne instantly seized the offensive. "Don't you think we should send that fax off to Atlanta this afternoon?"

"Oh, for sure-do you have the revised draft?"

Rob didn't feel like contributing to the conversation any more. He wondered, is this how a rapist feels? Someone who slinks around forcing weaker people to do things they have no intention of doing? Fiddling with Joubert's clothing ideas had been a laugh riot, but would Joubert himself agree? By no stretch of the imagination could you argue that anyone would benefit from today's meddling. At the first moment he could, Rob made a show of consulting his watch and said, "My gosh, I better get going. I'll pick you up at the Metro station, okay, Jul?"

"You got it, hon." She blew him a kiss, her eyes sparkling with pleasure.

Rob trundled gloomily off down the shiny modern hall to find the elevator.

Had he ever seen that glitter in Julianne's eye before?

CHAPTER 6.

After all the crises of this past week the Lewises were deeply in hock to Miss Linda. Rob was well aware it wasn't only a question of money. Miss Linda was irreplaceable and she knew it. No money in the world could have purchased a reliable and, above all, familiar sitter for the twins the other night, at such short notice. Rob knew that it would be only decent of him to apply the rest of this afternoon off to quality time with the twins.

Miss Linda would get an unexpected holiday, thus giving the Lewis family a psychological leg up again.

When Rob halted the van at the curb the twins shrieked with joy. Their sandbox was set up in the fenced side yard of a modest brick rambler. What with the kids and the scattered sand, almost all the grass was dead. Miss Linda rose from her seat on the porch swing and waved. Rob unlatched the chain-link gate and, slipping in quickly, shut it smartly behind himself to prevent escapes. Living with two active kids forced everyone involved into a kind of paranoia.

Davey flung himself onto a leg and locked on, yelling, "Da!"

Angela dashed up with a double handful of sand. "Here, Daddo! Annie give!"

"No way, sugar pie, I'm on to that one. Hi, Miss Linda- I got the afternoon off, so I thought I'd give you a break."

"You feeling better, Mr. Rob? I saw that fire on TV."

"Sure, I'm fine. But it was scary, huh?" At this moment Angela dumped the handfuls of sand onto Rob's feet. Since he was wearing loafers his shoes filled immediately. "Oh, no no, Angela!"

"No no," she replied, inspecting her work calmly.

"You better let me fetch their diaper bags out to you," Miss Linda said kindly. "Maybe you should just empty your shoes back into the sandbox again."

Rob did so. By the time he got his shoes and socks back on, and loaded both kids into the van. Miss Linda was back with the bags. "Use your afternoon wisely," he urged her. "Watch Oprah. Go to the hairdressers. Have a good time."

"You can count on me, Mr. Rob. Good-bye, loveys, I'll see you tomorrow!"

She blew kisses to the kids through the window, and they enthusiastically blew kisses back.

It would be shameful to waste such adorable toddler moods, and besides it was a glorious afternoon, full of birdsong and the green juicy smells of spring. Rob said, "Shall we go to the playground again, huh, kids?"

The twins had nothing to say against it, so Rob drove to the park. Having had enough sand for the day, Angela tugged imperiously at a toddler swing.

Rob lifted her up and fastened the lap belt, all the while keeping a sharp eye on Davey climbing the tot slide. "Now push," Angela commanded.

The park wore an entirely different aspect midweek. Last Saturday with Aunt Angela, there had been adults as well as kids. Today some local preschool had taken over. Two harried-looking women chased after maybe forty kids.

And some of those boys should have been in kindergarten, Rob judged. They were huge. Luckily most of them were waving sticks and horsing around near the monkey bars. "Higher!" Angela squealed. "Go under!" Rob knew what that meant, and obediently ran with the swing until he dashed right under Angela's high-kicking feet. She screamed with delight.

He had only turned his back for a second, no more. But there was Davey, flat on his back at the foot of the slide, howling. A trio of bigger boys galloped past, heading for the teeter-totters. Rob ran over and picked Davey up. "Hey, poor little guy! Don't cry, let me look you over!"

Rob found nothing obviously wrong, no broken limbs or flowing blood, as he dusted his son off. Had those budding thugs knocked him off the slide?

"What happened, sport?" Davey hiccuped and stuck a dirty thumb in his mouth. Rob gently pulled the hand down. "Davey, can you tell me how you fell?"

Davey had inherited Julianne's preposterously long eyelashes, but his eyes were blue-gray like Rob's. When Rob looked into them he saw only a little-boy mind, not much more than a baby's. He didn't really expect Davey to answer. But suddenly Davey said, quite clearly, "The big boys ran by.

They waved a stick at me. I got scared and my shoes slipped."

Rob's jaw dropped. Three whole sentences: his son had never yet been so articulate. Angela was the chatterbox of the two. "Oh my god," he whispered. "Davey, little guy, did I just make you say that?"

He knelt in the dirt hugging the little torso to his chest, and felt cold all over. What was he doing, just with his powerful presence, to these tiny impressionable brains? Was he warping them, the way plutonium might mutate their DNA?

There was no time to consider this now. Davey, already completely recovered, wiggled to be set free. The outraged Angela, trapped in her motionless swing, wailed, "Push, Daddo! Push!" at the top of her lungs. Rob staggered to his feet and pushed. He felt winded, as if he had taken a thunderous blow over the heart.

Another thing Rob felt obliged to do with an afternoon off was to cook some real food. The family was forced to do far too much carryout and TV dinner.

Rob had only two menus in his repertoire, chicken a la king and spaghetti.

Since chicken was on sale when he got to the store, the choice was easy. He knew the recipe by heart, which was good. Speed was essential when shopping with the twins. He had to seat them side by side in the body of the shopping cart, and then dash through the store tossing cream of mushroom soup and frozen peas into the small front area. By the time the kids were bored enough to try climbing out, Rob was breezing through the checkout line.

At home there was time to get the chicken going, change diapers, and feed the kids a snack. The child-care books didn't approve of TV as a babysitter, but Sesame Street kept them quiet and happy while he cooked.

Then he piled them back into the van to go to the station to fetch Julianne. "Have you had a lovely restful afternoon?" she greeted him.

"No, I haven't," Rob groaned. "I've been running around doing things till my tongue's hanging out."

"Well, I had a great day! Come on, let's get it in gear-I'm dying for a drink, and I bet you are too."

She almost sparkled in the front seat beside him, her bell of blonde hair throwing back the last of the day's sunshine. In her sharp hound's-tooth jacket and green skirt she looked like a model, not at all like the mother of two. How on earth did such a beautiful girl marry me? Rob wondered idly, as he sometimes did. But quickly he caught himself up. He was too strong now. If he pursued that line of thought he'd find the answer.

When Rob unlocked the front door the smell of cooking chicken was marvelous, filling the house. Suddenly he knew he'd feel better after dinner. On his arm Davey remarked, "Hungry."

"Your wish is my command, sport! Into the highchair with you!"

"This is so nice!" Julianne exclaimed as she came in with Angela. "The table set, dinner cooking-I love it!"

"Makes a nice change from pizza, doesn't it? By the time you get your shoes off, the food'll be on the table."

A scattering of Cheerios on their trays as an appetizer kept the twins busy as Rob dished up and poured some beer. Julianne came clattering downstairs again in jeans, and took her seat. She raised her glass to him. "To the chef, long may he wave!"