"I bet it's hard to run." He said it with a broad grin and a barely suppressed chuckle that made her laugh too. She reached for his hand, and the clear sound of her laughter rang out over the small lake.

"It sure is. I look like an old mother hen waddling along." He laughed too then, and kept hold of her hand. They sat smiling for a long time and then he grew serious.

"How come I can't come home with you, Katie? I can do the chair myself. Or maybe we could take Mr. Erhard. Huh?" That again. Dammit.

Kate slowly shook her head, but continued to hold his big hand in hers. "Don't you like it here, Tom?"

"I want to go home with you." He looked so wistful that she had to swallow the tears in her throat. She couldn't discuss that with him. Not again. He didn't understand. He made her feel as if she were abandoning him.

"That would be kind of hard to do right now. Why don't we just leave it like this for a while, and then we can talk about it another time?"

"You won't let me then either. I promise I'll be good." There were tears in his eyes now, and all she could do was rise to her knees on the gra.s.s and put her arms around him to hold him close.

"You are good, and I love you. And I promise, darling, if it's possible at all, one day I'll take you home." There was a long sad silence, as they both held tightly to their own thoughts, worlds away from each other and yet never closer. "And in the meantime, I'll visit and we'll play, and Mr. Erhard will take good care of you, and ..." It was impossible to go on as she choked back the tears. But Tom had already lost the thread of the conversation.

"Okay. Oh, look!" Excitedly, he pointed upward and she leaned back to look into the sun, wiping the dampness from her eyes. "Isn't he pretty? I forget what you call it, Mr. Erhard told me yesterday." It was a blue and green bird with a yellow tail and s.h.i.+mmering wings. Kate smiled slowly at Tom and sat down on the gra.s.s again.

"I brought you a picnic. How about that?"

"For real?"

She held up a solemn hand. "For real. I promise." It was fun doing things for him, even if it was only making a picnic lunch. She had brought salami sandwiches, and big fresh country potato chips, macaroni salad, beautiful peaches and a basket of cherries. And there was a thermos of lemonade and a slab of chocolate cake. He even ate like a kid now.

"What's it got?" His eyes were dancing again. The wanting to go home with Katie was already forgotten. For now.

"You'll see what's in the picnic when you get hungry for lunch." She waggled a finger at him, and he caught it. It was a game they had played since they met. They still played it. It was one of the things that allowed her to pretend, for a moment, a minute, the flash of an eyelash, that everything was the same.

"I'm hungry."

"You are not. You just want to see what's in the picnic basket." She lay on the gra.s.s, feeling like an overturned whale, and grinned up at him.

"Honest, I'm hungry!" But he was laughing again, they both were.

"How can you be hungry? It's ten-thirty in the morning."

"Mr. Erhard didn't give me any breakfast." But the laughter danced right out of his eyes and he couldn't keep a straight face.

"Baloney. You fibber."

"Come on, Katie, I'm starving."

"You're impossible." But she pushed herself up to a sitting position and thought about getting the basket. If he was hungry, why not? "I brought you a present, by the way."

"You did? What?"

"You'll see."

"Oh, you're so mean!" He said it with the outrage of childhood, and a fierce impatience for both the picnic and the gift. And with another slow smile, Kate got to her feet and then bent down to kiss the tip of his nose. "Don't do that!" Gently, he swatted her away.

"Why not?"

"Because you're a meanie, that's why!" But his arm went around her waist, and for a moment they stayed there, he in his chair and she standing next to him. This time she moved away first.

"I'll go get the stuff." There was smoke in her voice, and they still had the day ahead of them.

"Want me to help?"

"Okay. You can carry the picnic basket." He wheeled himself to the car as she walked along slowly beside him in the suns.h.i.+ne. They chatted, and he told her what he'd been doing, about the drawings, about a new game she'd brought him the week before, about a nurse he hated at the main house, and "the best dinner I've ever had," while Kate listened as though it were all true, as though it mattered.

When they got to the car, she lifted the picnic basket carefully onto his lap, and reached in beside it for a red- and white-striped package tied with a big bow.

"For you, my love." She closed the car, and pushed him slowly back up the walk. "Hurry up!"

"We have a problem?" She'd need Mr. Erhard for that. Tom was far too heavy for her to cope with when he needed to relieve himself.

"No, dummy, I want to open my present!" He was holding it close, and had already dug a hand into the picnic basket and come up with a handful of cherries and a little tiny piece of the cake.

"Stay out of that, Tom Harper, or I'll-"

"No, you won't, Katie, you love me too much."

"You're right." They both smiled then, and Kate settled him under a tree outside his cottage. The grounds were fresh and bright. In time he might tire of them. But not yet.

"Can I open it now?" He looked at her for approval and she nodded, as he quickly tore off the paper. It had been a foolish thing to buy him, but she hadn't been able to resist when she'd seen it. And she'd bought one for the baby's room too. "Oh, I love him! What's his name?" Tom held the big brown bear close, and squeezed it tight. Kate was surprised and pleased at his instant delight.

"I don't know his name. You tell me. I think he looks like a George myself."

"Yeah. Maybe." Tom looked him over thoughtfully.

"Lucius?" Kate was smiling again. She was glad she'd bought it for him after all. So what if it was silly? What difference did that make now, if it made him happy?

"Not Lucius, that's horrible. I know! Willie!"

"Willie?"

"Willie!" He leaned over with his arms held out and Kate gave him a hug, and a little kiss on the forehead. "Thank you, Katie, he's beautiful."

"He looks like you."

He swatted her with the bear then and they both laughed.

"Want to sit in your hammock? I'll get Mr. Erhard if you want."

"No, this is nice." He was already elbow deep in the picnic basket and he stayed that way for the next half hour, with Willie sitting contentedly on his lap.

They rested quietly for a while after lunch, and Kate almost fell asleep in the warm summer air. There was the tiniest breeze ruffling her hair as she lay near Tom's wheelchair, and the baby was finally still for the first time all day. They pa.s.sed the basket of cherries back and forth, shooting pits at the trees and then laughing.

"One day there will be a whole field of cherry trees here and no one will know why."

"We will. Right, Katie?"

"Right."

His voice was so soft, almost wistful, that she thought he must know. But what was the point of his knowing? It was the one thing that always stopped her from trying to jolt him into remembering. If he ever returned to what he had been, he would have to stand trial for a.s.sault or attempted murder or whatever they decided to call it. He was better off in Mead Home, the way he was, than in a different kind of prison. There was no way to "jolt" him back anyway. The doctor had explained it to her often enough. But the temptation was always there. Sometimes, just for a second, he sounded so much like himself, like the old Tom, that it was hard to believe the bullet had destroyed as much as the doctors said it had. It had been hard to give up hope, to stop trying.

"Katie?"

"Hm?" She looked up at him, a twig of cherries still in her hand; she had forgotten them for a moment. "What were you thinking?"

"Oh nothing much. Just lying here, feeling lazy."

"You look pretty when you think." And then his eyes slid politely to her belly. He was sorry she was so fat, but it didn't matter much. He loved her, no matter what.

"Thank you, Tom." She poured him a gla.s.s of lemonade, and lay back on the gra.s.s. There was a tall tree overhead, shading them from the bright sun, and in the air the wonderful stillness of a summer afternoon. The only thing missing was the squeaking of a screen door, somewhere in the distance, and then the banging of it as a child went in for a gla.s.s of cold water. "It's pretty here, isn't it?" He nodded happily in answer and shot another cherry pit in the direction of the cottage.

"I need a slingshot."

"My eye you do."

"Not to hurt anyone with"-he looked offended-"just for things like cherry pits. Or paper clips. You know-to shoot at trees." But he was grinning again, the irrepressible, mischievous grin.

"How do you even know about those things anyway? They went out of style years ago."

"I saw one on TV."

"Terrific."

"Maybe I could make one." But she wasn't listening to him. The baby had just delivered a ferocious kick to her ribs. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and wondered if it was time to call it a day. She still had the long drive home, and it was almost two. She had been there for four hours. It wasn't long, but right now it was about all she could manage. She looked at Tom taking careful aim with another cherry pit. He still had a smudge of chocolate cake on one cheek. She sat up and wiped it off gently, then looked toward the cottage. She had seen Mr. Erhard go inside almost an hour before.

"I'm going to go inside for a minute, love. Want anything?"

He shook his head happily. "Nope."

Mr. Erhard was waiting, reading the newspaper and smoking a pipe. It seemed a wintry pastime for such a warm, sunny day.

"Ready to go?"

"I think I'd better."

"I'm surprised your doctor even lets you come up here." And then he smiled a fatherly smile. "Or don't you ask him?"

"Well, let's just say we compromise on it."

"You know, you really could skip a couple of weeks. I'll keep him busy. He may complain about it when you get back, but he won't notice it while you're gone." It was depressing to realize Mr. Erhard was right.

"I don't know. I'll see how I feel next week."

"Good enough."

After another quick stop at the bathroom, she went outside and he followed her, walking toward Tom, waving his pipe in a greeting.

"So you're the one who's been pelting the house with cherry pits all day, is that it?" But he was grinning broadly and Tom laughed with delight. "I'll bet you can't hit that tree." But he was wrong. Tom hit it and squarely.

"You'd better watch out, Mr. E., he wants a slingshot."

"Remember? Like the one on that show the other night? The one when the boy ..." The tale was long and garbled, but Mr. Erhard fell into the discussion with ease, and Kate watched him for a silent moment. She hated leaving him. She always hated leaving him. It should have been a relief, but it wasn't. Getting there was a relief, seeing him was, leaving him still tore at her heart.

"Okay, love, I'm going to go now, but I'll be back soon."

"Okay, Katie, so long." He waved nonchalantly, and the discussion of the morning was long since forgotten. This was more home to him now than anywhere else. He didn't even flinch at her departure. She stooped to kiss him on the cheek and squeezed his shoulder.

"Take good care of Willie, my love." She walked away with a wave and a smile and a rock settling on her heart, as he sat in his chair holding the teddy bear. She could still see him as she backed the car slowly out of its s.p.a.ce. She rolled down the window for a last wave, but he was already engrossed in his talk with Mr. Erhard. "Good-bye, Tom. I love you." She said it to herself in a whisper as she drove away.

CHAPTER 3.

The drive home seemed longer than it ever had before. She kept seeing Tom with the teddy bear, and thinking of things he had said. She finally forced the visit from her mind, and flicked on the radio. She had cramps in her legs, and suddenly all she wanted was to get home. It had been too long a day, and she had that desperate feeling of exhaustion that swept up on her so quickly now, as though she hadn't the strength for another step. Maybe Mr. Erhard was right. Maybe she should stop coming for the next few weeks. It was only going to be three more weeks till the baby came. She didn't even let herself think of that though. Not the baby, not Tom. All she could think of was her bed, and getting out of the clothes that seemed to be strangling her whole body. It seemed a thousand years later when she finally pulled into her own driveway. She was so tired she didn't even see the little red Alfa Romeo parked at the side of the house. She just slipped out of the car, stood next to it for a minute, steadying herself and rubbing her calves, and then began to walk slowly and stiffly toward the front door.

"You look like you're in great shape." It was the deep, cynical voice of Felicia Norman, and Kate jumped a foot. "Hey, lady, take it easy. I'm a miserable midwife." And then Kate looked up and laughed.

"You scared the h.e.l.l out of me, Licia."

"I'm surprised you've got enough energy left to be scared. What do you think you're doing to yourself?" She took the basket out of her friend's hand and they walked slowly toward the house.

"Never mind that. What are you doing down here early?"

"I decided I needed a vacation and you needed a guest."

"A vacation?"

"Well, a long weekend. I took four days." And she was glad she had come. Kate looked wiped out, and if that was what going up to see Tom did to her, maybe she could stop her from going for a while, or at least drive her up there. But this was lunacy.

"Do you realize what a miracle it is that you haven't been fired yet, thanks to me?" But Kate was grinning. It was so good to see her.

"They're just G.o.dd.a.m.n lucky I don't quit. If we do one more show this month, I'm going to have a nervous breakdown." And so would her a.s.sistant. In order to be with Kate, Felicia had foisted all the week's shows onto her a.s.sistant again. That was going to cost her another Gucci bag, and a fat lunch at Trader Vic's, but she had had this feeling ... she had to come down to see Kate. And she was glad that she had. She shoved the picnic basket onto the kitchen counter and looked around. It really was a pleasant house. It had been a good choice. "So how's Tom?"

"Fine. Happy. Nothing new." Felicia nodded solemnly and sat down in a chair. Kate followed suit.

"You know, Licia, you look worse than I do, but then, you drove further. Want the leftover lemonade?"

Felicia made a horrible face. "Darling, I love you, but lemonade is not me. G.o.d, what a horrible thought."