"I'm worried about you rushing into something permanent with Ben when you're upset."

"I'm not upset. And I'm not rushing."

"He may never be able to get another job, and that is the honest truth. I've called people, tried to drum something up for him, but no one wants anything to do with him. I mention his name and they laugh out loud."

She winced.

"Have you thought about what you'll do with Cassie when you have to travel to California or wherever? You could leave her home with Wayne with no problem, but with Ben?"

"What are you insinuating, Kyle? He's innocent. You said so yourself."

"I know that, and you know that, but the rest of the world is pretty convinced otherwise and you'll be putting him in a very awkward position. People will be watching Cassie for a sign that he's hurt her."

"Are you trying to split us up?"

"I'm just not sure you know what you're getting yourself into."

"I'm fine, Kyle. I haven't jumped into this blindly." She opened the screen door and stepped onto the porch.

"I'm very disappointed about the film, Eden," Kyle said from behind the screen. "I think you would have done an excellent job with it."

Over the next few days she bought clothes and toys for Cassie, kitty litter and food for the kitten, jeans and tennis shoes for Ben. "Don't think of this as charity," she said when she handed him the clothes. "I'm enjoying myself."

She made up the folding bed in the little room next to her mother's old room and filled the small pine dresser with the clothes she'd bought. She ate a few meals with Lou and Kyle and slept at Lynch Hollow on a couple of nights, trying to ease the tension of being with them so it wouldn't overwhelm Cassie on her arrival. Staying here again would not be difficult. She'd had years of practice relating to Kyle and Lou on a purely superficial level. She knew how to keep her distance from them.

She missed Ben on those nights at Lynch Hollow. In the middle of one particularly hot night she threw on her robe, drove the winding black road up to his cabin, and climbed into his bed. They made love in the breathless air of the cabin, the damp sheet twisting around their bare legs. Afterward he told her she was crazy to leave an air-conditioned house on a ninety-five-degree night just so she could sleep with a man already on the verge of heat prostration. And she replied that soon Cassie would come, soon she wouldn't be able to sleep with him at all, and they both grew very quiet. When Cassie arrived, everything would change.

One night while she was at Lynch Hollow, Michael called. At first she thought he was stoned. He was so low-key, so soft and slow. But after speaking to him for a few minutes she knew it was acceptance she heard in his voice. He was no longer on, no longer trying hard to win her affection. He asked her questions about Ben, questions to help him understand her attraction to him, and she was careful to be honest in her answers without revealing Ben's past. He was glad she was happy, he said, and with a pang of guilt she knew he cared about her enough to mean it.

"Nina's furious," he said. "But I told her it's your life and she should butt out. But God, when I think of you not living down the street from me anymore...I miss you, Eden. I'm lonely as hell without you. Can I still call you every once in a while?"

"I'd like you to."

"Ben won't get jealous?"

"He's not the jealous type," she said, although she realized she had no way of knowing that for certain. She had lived with Ben in a cocoon, not in the real world.

When she got off the phone she sat still for a long time. That had been the first real conversation she'd ever had with Michael. The first one in which she felt like they were two people talking with one another, rather than two characters rehearsing their lines. His bravado, his slick, masculine image was no more real than the character he'd played in Heart of Winter. She felt a tenderness for him that was new. The next time she spoke to him she would tell him to nurture that soft, open part of himself, to let the women he met see it. He wouldn't be lonely for long.

Wayne arrived with Cassie that Friday evening. All day Eden had felt an anxiety she couldn't label. She'd had lunch with Ben on the footbridge over Ferry Creek and had not been able to eat.

"You're not in competition with Wayne," he'd said. "This isn't a popularity contest."

She nodded, knowing Ben had zeroed in on the source of her nervousness.

"I won't plan on seeing you for a couple of days," he said.

"Why not?"

"You and Cassie need some time to get to know each other again without a stranger around."

She hadn't thought of that, but once he said it she knew he was right. She wanted Cassie all to herself for a while.

Cassie was sick when she arrived. Wayne carried her out of the car just as dusk was falling. Her hair was longer, a dark patch of silk on Wayne's shoulder. She looked limp and liquid in his arms.

"Hi, Mommy," she said in her sick-little-girl voice.

"Hi, baby." Eden kissed her cheek. It was hot.

"She hasn't felt too well the past couple of days," Wayne said as he carried her into the house. Eden trotted alongside, lugging the kitten in its little kennel and trying to make out Cassie's features in the dim light. "April and Lindy had a stomach thing and I guess she has a touch of it. The mountain roads didn't help."

He carried Cassie upstairs, where a stuffed koala bear perched on the pillow of the folding bed. Kyle must have put it there before he and Lou went out for the evening. Eden moved it to the dresser and pulled down the covers.

"Her pajamas are right on top in her suitcase," Wayne said, but Cassie had already tugged the covers to her chin, and her eyes were closed. Eden felt a stab of worry, followed by disappointment that this evening would not go as she had planned. There would be no long and loving talk with Cassie tonight.

"Sorry to bring you a sick kid," Wayne said. "She's been fine all summer."

She took his words personally-Cassie was fine as long as she was with Wayne. But when Wayne bent down to kiss his sleeping daughter good-bye, when he stroked Cassie's hair and whispered, "I love you, sweetheart. I'll miss you," she felt a little twist of love for him.

He stood up again and looked around him. "This is where you grew up?"

"Yes. Well, downstairs. It was different then. Not nearly so nice." She walked him downstairs and showed him around the house. When they reached the kitchen, she poured him a glass of iced tea and they sat at the table.

Wayne looked good. He had a sunburn across the bridge of his nose, a little more gray at his temples.

"So." He grinned. "Who's the guy you painted the Big Apple red with?"

He'd seen the tabloid. "He's a friend of Kyle's."

"Are you...Do you have something going with him?" She nodded and couldn't help her smile. He smiled back.

"Is he an archaeologist?"

"Yes."

"What's he like? Is he divorced or what?"

"Now you're getting nosy."

"Well, I think I have a right to know something about him if he's going to be around Cassie."

"I don't recall you asking my permission before you started sleeping with Pam." She was immediately contrite. She lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry." Wayne set down his glass. "I'm not proud of how I handled things back then. And I didn't mean to be intrusive just now. If he's a friend of Kyle's, that says enough. I was never really comfortable knowing Cassie was hanging around Michael Carey." He stood up. "When do you go back to Santa Monica?"

"I don't think I will. Ben needs to stay on the East Coast, so I'll be staying myself for a while."

Wayne's jaw dropped; then he smiled. "I like this guy better all the time. If you're living here I could see Cassie more often, couldn't I?"

"We can probably arrange that."

"What about your career?"

"I'll work it out."

She walked him out to his car. He looked up at the dark bedroom window before getting in. "She's been afraid of the dark lately. Maybe you could get a night-light for her? She's been looking forward to seeing you. The important thing is for us to keep telling her we both want her, we'll both always be there for her."

"Of course." Eden hurt for him. She knew how it felt to drop Cassie off and drive away.

"She might be a little homesick for a few days," Wayne continued. "Let her call if she wants to. You can use my work number during the day."

"I'll let her call all she wants. And Wayne?" She set her hand on his arm as he slid behind the wheel. He looked up at her. "I think Cassie's lucky to have you as her father."

He stared at her a moment before he smiled. "You've changed," he said.

"I know."

She lay in her mother's old bed, the bed she had been born in, worrying that Cassie might wake up in the middle of the night to find herself alone in a strange room. Finally she got up and brought Cassie and the stuffed koala into bed with her. Cassie's forehead was cool now, and she drifted in and out of sleep as Eden changed her into her pajamas. Cassie settled into the pillow, clutching the koala as though it had been hers for a long time. Eden drew the covers over both of them and was immediately enveloped in Cassie's scent, subtle yet unmistakable, and she pulled her daughter closer to breathe her in.

39 In the morning Eden sat in the wicker rocker and studied her daughter. Cassie slept heavily, compressing the pillow and mattress as though she weighed two hundred pounds instead of forty-one. She was not a classic beauty and probably never would be. Not like Bliss who, if only for a few seconds, stole your breath away. But Cassie was irrepressibly cute. Even asleep there was an impishness in her turned-up nose and full cheeks, the suggestion of a smile at the corners of her mouth. Her dark bangs were spiky and short, and Eden recalled Wayne telling her that Cassie had taken it upon herself to cut her own hair the week before. For the first time, Eden was grateful Cassie resembled Wayne and not herself. She didn't have to wonder where Cassie got her nose or her eyes. She wanted no reminders of Cassie's ancestry or her own.

Eden walked over to her closet and took a pair of shorts off their hanger. Her back was turned on her daughter for just an instant, so she was startled when Cassie said, "Whoever is this?"

She turned to see Cassie sitting up in the bed, grinning, holding the koala up for inspection. Her hair was a mass of wispy brown tangles except for the bangs that stood straight up above her big brown eyes. She was beautiful. Eden climbed back on the bed and hugged her.

"It's from Uncle Kyle." She tried to comb Cassie's bangs into place with her fingers, but it was hopeless.

"Is Daddy still here?"

"No, honey, he had to leave last night."

Cassie jumped out of the bed and ran to the window. She gnawed at her lower lip with her small front teeth as she looked outside. "I thought I heared his car."

Eden felt a flash of insecurity, as though she wasn't at all certain she could remember how to take care of a child by herself. "It must have been your imagination. He said to tell you he loves you and he'll miss you and he can't wait until the next time he gets to see you. We can call him later if you like." She walked over to the window and laid her hand on Cassie's cool forehead. "Are you feeling better this morning? Do you want some breakfast?"

"Yes." Cassie marched around the room in her yellow shorty pajamas, examining everything, touching Eden's familiar comb and brush set on the dresser, taking a few seconds to look at her own picture on the night table. She'd always awakened this way, immediately alert, exploratory, checking out her world. It reassured Eden. She knew this child.

"Where's Stuart?"

"Stuart?"

"My kitten."

"Oh. I left him in the kitchen for the night. But we can move his litter box up here today. What will you name your koala?"

Cassie looked at the koala lying on the bed.

"April," she said. "It's from Uncle Kyle?"

"Uh huh. Do you remember Uncle Kyle and Aunt Lou?"

"Sure, silly. Aunt Lou rides in a wheelchair."

"Great, that's right. You have a good memory." She pointed Cassie in the direction of the bathroom. "Come on, let's get dressed and go down to breakfast."

The table in the kitchen was set for four and laden with pancakes and blueberries, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and wedges of cantaloupe. Cassie had seen Lou and Kyle only three times in her life-two brief visits in New York and once last year in California. Eden imagined that the visit last year could be the only one clear in Cassie's memory. Cassie had been distressed by Lou's missing leg, which she'd searched for under the furniture and in the closets, making Eden extremely uncomfortable, although Lou herself seemed amused.

Once Cassie was born, the obligatory visits with Lou and Kyle became more tolerable. Cassie provided the entertainment, something for the four adults to focus on other than the strain that existed between them. Now at the breakfast table Eden knew this would be the case once again. The tension that had filled the house since she'd learned Kyle was her father floated high above them, too high to be much of a threat. It lost its charge with Cassie in the room. Eden felt it up there, a good, safe distance above her.

Cassie seemed to have adjusted easily to the overnight upheaval in her life. She was her usual, unshy self, fully aware of her ability to charm. She relished being the center of attention, and Lou and Kyle made an appreciative audience. She babbled about her month in Pennsylvania, April and Lindy, the swimming pool, and Stuart, the plump gray kitten. She was an expressive child, her face a mirror for her words, and Eden watched her from a new perspective-one born of a month's deprivation.

Lou leaned close to Eden. "She's going to be an actress for sure."

Eden felt deflated by the idea. Wearing the mask was not the life she would choose for her daughter.

Cassie looked up at the shelf above the sink. "What's that?" she asked, her eyes so huge that the whites showed all around the nearly black irises.

Eden looked up to see a ceramic plate in the shape of a flounder.

"It's a serving plate for fish," Lou said.

"Why, it's exquisite," Cassie said and they all laughed. She was definitely on this morning.

"I was hoping that you and I could go fishing one day while you're here," Kyle said.

Eden had a sudden memory of Kyle taking her fishing. She must have been no more than Cassie's age, and she remembered sitting with him on the bank of the Shenandoah, the fishing line damp and taut beneath her fingers.

"Today?" Cassie asked.

"That's up to your mother." Kyle looked at Eden.

Eden had wanted Cassie to herself today, but they would have plenty of time together over the next few weeks. "That would be fine," she said.

"Hooray!" Cassie raised herself to her knees to dig deeper into her cantaloupe.

"How do you feel about worms?" Kyle asked.

"Oh, worms, yummy, I love them." She giggled ridiculously.

"That's good," Kyle said. "If we don't catch any fish we can eat the worms for supper."

Cassie rolled her eyes. "Silly.

Kyle took Cassie out to the shed to find a pole she could manage, and with her daughter's departure Eden felt the tension drop from the ceiling to her shoulders.

"He used to take you fishing," Lou said. "Do you remember?"

Eden stood up and began clearing the table. "No. Not really."