44 Charles Street

“I figured once was too many. My father cheated on everybody. My mother married everybody. I never wanted to do either, and I was afraid to have kids,” she said honestly. “That seemed like too much to me. What if you screw it up? You ruin a whole human being.” Chris was struck by the irony of it, as he listened to her. She would have made a wonderful mother but hadn’t had children because she was afraid to hurt someone or do something wrong. And Kim, who was a walking minefield and human disaster area, hadn’t hesitated to have Ian, and wanted more. Once he realized what a mess she was, Chris wouldn’t let her, although he would have loved to have more children. “I think Ian is the first child who has ever made me wish I’d had some of my own. But I’m still not convinced you have to get married to have them. That’s a double jeopardy I was never ready to face.”

“I think it’s nicer if you are. It’s a statement about commitment and believing in the other person.” He thought about it for a minute and then shrugged. “What do I know? Look what a catastrophe my marriage was.” But look at who he had married.

“It probably helps if you marry the right person.”

“I couldn’t have married a worse one. I must have been blind, but she talked a good game, and we were both young. I’d know better now.”

“Would you ever marry again?” She didn’t think he would and was stunned by his answer.

“I would with you,” he said softly, and she didn’t respond. It was a long time before she did.

“That terrifies me. I don’t want to screw up what we have.”

“If it’s right, it makes it better. If it’s wrong, it makes you wish you’d never been born. I can’t imagine feeling that way with you.” She kissed him and put a finger to his lips then. She didn’t want him to say anything she wasn’t ready to hear. But he told her he loved her that night, in the big four-poster bed. And she told him she loved him too. They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

They woke up when the sun rose the next morning, and had breakfast on the porch. It was cold, but the air was crisp, and they drank coffee in their bathrobes and sat on the porch swing again under a blanket. She was thinking about their conversation of the night before, about marriage, but she didn’t mention it, and neither did he. It was also on Chris’s mind, but he didn’t want to unnerve her, so he didn’t bring it up again.

They made love again that afternoon, and changed the sheets on the four-poster for Marya. They had done their dishes, and Francesca left her a note on the kitchen table. “Thank you for the most beautiful weekend of my life.” Chris looked at it and crossed out the last two words and wrote “our lives.” She smiled and kissed him.

“Thank you too,” she said to him, and he carried their bags out to his car.

They turned on the alarm and locked the door. They drove away just as the sun was setting, and Francesca leaned over and kissed him, and he smiled. “I love you, Chris.”

“I love you too, Francesca.” He reached over and touched her cheek, and they drove in silence for a while. There was so much to think about, and remember. Everything felt exactly the way things were meant to be. Neither of them had ever felt that way before.

Chapter 19

FOR THE NEXT few weeks, all Francesca and Chris could think about was the wonderful weekend they had had in Vermont. Marya was thrilled that they had used the house and said they could go there anytime they liked.

They had been planning to behave until they could go away again, but by the next day they realized how impossible that was for both of them. They waited for Ian to fall asleep, and then Chris sneaked upstairs to be with her. They locked her door and made love as passionately as they had in Vermont. And afterward he went back downstairs to Ian.

Chris complained about it one night when he had to leave her. He hated to get out of bed, and go back downstairs and spend the night without her. But they had no other choice.

“You can’t just move up here and leave him down there,” she said sensibly. “Then he’d resent us.”

“I know. I just miss you when I’m downstairs. You’re too far away.” She loved that he felt that way, and she did too.

They overslept one morning, and Ian nearly caught them. She called Marya on her cell phone and asked her to lure him down to the kitchen. A few minutes later Chris walked in with the newspaper under his arm, and claimed he’d been picking it up outside. Ian never suspected that he’d been upstairs in bed with Francesca, and without Marya’s help, they would have been trapped.

Sometimes after they made love, they took a bath together in her huge tub and just talked. Most of the time, afterward, they wound up back in bed. They were golden days. It was a November they both knew they would never forget. And everyone in the house was excited about Thanksgiving.