grin riding on full lips that, aside from the memorable flicker of his gray eyes, were her
husband's most attractive physical feature, Amanda thought.
"Take a breath, work on a story," said Jack.
"A prisoner of your own devices," replied Amanda softly, and she stopped rubbing his
arm.
As her husband drifted back to work, Amanda watched as Lou labored with her own
story. Mother saw the potential for much happiness and some inevitable pain in her
daughter. She could not live Lou's life for her, and Amanda knew she would have to
watch her little girl fall at times. Still, Amanda would never hold out her hand, for Lou
being Lou would certainly refuse it. But if her daughter's fingers sought out her mother's,
she would be there. It was a situation burdened with pitfalls, yet it seemed the one
destined for mother and daughter.
"How's the story coming, Lou?"
Head down, hand moving with the flourishing thrust of youthful penmanship, Lou said,
"Fine." Amanda could easily sense her daughter's underlying message: that writing was a
task not to be discussed with nonwriters. Amanda took it as good-naturedly as she did
most things having to do with her volatile daughter. But even a mother sometimes needed
a comforting pillow on which to lay her head, so Amanda reached out and tousled her
son's blondish hair. Sons were not nearly so complex, and as much as Lou wore her out,
Oz rejuvenated his mother.
"How're you doing, Oz?" asked Amanda.
The little boy answered by letting out a crowing sound that banged off all sides of the
car's interior, startling even the inattentive Jack.
"Miss English said I'm the best rooster she's ever heard," said Oz, and crowed again,
flapping his arms. Amanda laughed and even Jack turned and smiled at his son.
Lou smirked at her brother, but then reached over and tenderly patted Oz on the hand.
"And you are too, Oz. A lot better than me when I was your age," said Lou.
Amanda smiled at Lou's remark and then said, "Jack, you're coming to Oz's school play,
aren't you?"
Lou said, "Mom, you know he's working on a story. He doesn't have time to watch Oz
playing a rooster."
"I'll try, Amanda. I really will this time," Jack said. However, Amanda knew that the
level of doubt in his tone heralded another disappointment for Oz. For her.
Amanda turned back and stared out the windshield. Her thoughts showed through so
clearly on her features. Life married to Jack Cardinal: I'll try.
Oz's enthusiasm, however, was undiminished. "And next I'm going to be the Easter
Bunny. You'll be there, won't you, Mom?"
Amanda looked at him, her smile wide and easing her eyes to pleasing angles.
"You know Mom wouldn't miss it," she said, giving his head another gentle rub.
But Mom did miss it. They all missed it.
CHAPTER TWO
AMANDA LOOKED OUT THE CAR WINDOW. HER prayers had been answered, and the storm
had passed with little more than annoying patches of drizzle and an occasional gust of
wind that failed to motivate the park trees to much more than a skimming of limbs.
Everyone's lungs had been pressed hard from running the long, curvy strips of park grass
end to end. And to his credit, Jack had played with as much abandon as any of them. Like
a child, he had hurtled down the cob- *• blestone paths with Lou or Oz on his back
laughing riotously. Once he had even run right out of his loafers and then let the children
chase him down and put mem back on after a spirited struggle. Later, to the delight of all,
he hung upside down while he performed on the swings. It was exactly what the Cardinal
family needed. At day's end the children had collapsed on their parents, and they all had
napped right there, a huge ball of wild-angled limbs, deep breathing, and the contented
sighs of tired, happy people at rest. A part of Amanda could have lain there the rest of her
life, and felt as though she had accomplished all the world could ever reasonably demand
of her.
Now, as they returned to the city, to a very small but cherished home that would not be
theirs much longer, Amanda felt a growing uneasiness. She did not particularly care for
confrontation, but Amanda also knew it was sometimes necessary when the cause was
important. She checked the backseat. Oz was sleeping. Lou's face was turned to the
window; she also appeared to be dozing. Since she rarely had her husband all to herself,
Amanda decided now was the time.
She said softly to Jack, "We really need to talk about California."
Her husband squinted although there was no sun; in fact the darkness was almost
complete around them. "The movie studio already has writing assignments lined up," he
said.
She noted that he stated this without a trace of enthusiasm. Emboldened by this, Amanda