they went to a cheerful little fish-and-chip restaurant down by the wharf. the weather had been chilly all morning, but the sun was out in full force by early afternoon. jeff was excited about his team's latest win and attributed it to the luck brought to them by his cap.

after a leisurely lunch, the three of them strolled along the busy waterfront. robin bought a loaf of fresh sourdough bread and a small bouquet of spring flowers. jeff found a plastic snake he couldn't live without and paid for it with his allowance.

"just wait till jimmy wallach sees this!" he crowed.

"i'm more curious to see how kelly lawrence reacts," robin said.

"oh, kelly likes snakes," jeff told them cheerfully. "jimmy was over one day and i thought i'd scare kelly with a live garden snake, but jimmy was the one who started screaming. kelly said snakes were just another of god's creatures and there was nothing to be afraid of. isn't it just like a girl to get religious about a snake?"

jeff raced down the sidewalk while cole and robin stood at the end of the pier, the bread and flowers at their feet.

"you look tired," cole said, as his fingers gently touched her forehead.

"i'm fine," she insisted, gazing out at the cool green waters of san francisco bay. but cole was right; she hadn't been sleeping well.

"i see so much of myself in you," cole said softly.

his words surprised her. "how's that?"

"the pain mostly. how many years has lenny been dead?"

"ten. in some ways i'm still grieving him." she couldn't be less than honest with cole.

"you're not sure if you can love another man, are you? at least not with the same intensity that you loved jeff's father."

"that's not it at all. i...i just don't know if i can stop loving him."

cole went very still. "i never intended to take lenny away from you or jeff. he's part of your past, an important part. being married to lenny, giving birth to jeff, contributed to making you what you are." he paused, and they both remained silent.

"bobby had been buried for six years before i had the courage to face the future. i hung on to my grief, carried it with me everywhere i went, dragging it like a heavy piece of luggage i couldn't travel without."

"i'm not that way about lenny," she said, ready to argue, not heatedly or vehemently, but logically, because what he was saying simply wasn't true. she mourned her dead husband, felt his absence, but she hadn't allowed this sense of loss to destroy her life.

"perhaps you aren't grieving as deeply as you once were," cole amended. "but i wonder if you've really laid your husband to rest."

"of course i have," she answered with a nod of her head, not wanting to talk about lenny.

"i don't mean to sound unsympathetic," cole said, his tone compassionate. "i understand, believe me i do. emotional pain is familiar territory for us both. it seems to me that those of us who sustain this kind of grief are afraid of what lies beyond."

"you're exaggerating, cole."

"maybe," he agreed. "you're a lovely woman, robin. witty. intelligent. outgoing. i'm sure one of the first questions anyone asks you is how long it's been since your husband died. and i'll bet when you tell them, they seem surprised."

that was true, and robin wondered how cole had guessed.

"most young widows remarry."

"are you suggesting that because i didn't immediately fling myself back into matrimonial bliss i'm a candidate for therapy? come on, cole, even you must realize how ridiculous that is."

"even me?" he asked, chuckling.

jeff came loping toward them, his face flushed with excitement. "they're filming a movie," he cried, pointing toward a congested area farther down the pier. "there's cameras and actors and everything. can i go watch some more?"

robin nodded. "just don't get in anyone's way."

"i won't. promise. here, mom, hold my snake." he entrusted her with his precious package before racing back down the pier.

"he's a fine boy, robin."

"he loves you already. you and blackie."

"and how does his mother feel?"

the knot in her throat thickened. "she loves you, too."

cole grinned. "she just isn't sure if she can let go of her dead husband to take on a live one. am i right?"

his words hit their mark. "i don't know," she admitted. "maybe it's because i'm afraid you want to marry me because jeff reminds you of bobby. or because you've created a fantasy wife and think i'll fit the role."

her words seemed to shock him. "no. you've got that all wrong. jeff is a wonderful plus in this relationship, but it's you i fell in love with. it's you i want to grow old with. you, and you alone, not some ideal. if you want to know the truth, i think you're stirring up all this turmoil because you're afraid of ever marrying again. the little world you've made is tidy and safe. but is this what lenny would've wanted for you?" he gripped her firmly by the shoulders. "if lenny were standing beside you right now and you could ask him about marrying me, what would he say?"

"i...don't understand."

"if you could seek lenny's advice, what would he tell you? would he say, 'robin, look at this guy. he's in love with you. he thinks the world of jeff, and he's ready to embark on a new life. this is an opportunity too good to pass up. don't be a fool. marry him.'?"

"that sounds like something my friend angela would say."

"i'm going to like this friend of yours-just as long as she doesn't try to set you up with any more of her divorced cousins," cole said, laughing. his eyes grew warm as he gazed at her, and she suspected he was longing to take her in his arms and kiss her doubts away. but he didn't. instead, he looked over his shoulder and sighed. "i think i'll go see what jeff's up to. i'll leave you to yourself for a few minutes. i don't mean to pressure you, but i do want you to think about what i said."

"you aren't pressuring me," she whispered, staring out over the water.

cole left her then, and her hands clutched the steel railing as she raised her eyes to the sky. "oh, lenny," she whispered. "what should i do?"

ten

"cole wants me to ask your advice." robin continued to look up at the cloudless blue sky. "oh, lenny, i honestly don't know what's right for jeff and me anymore. i love cole. i love you. but at the same time i can't help wondering about cole's motives...."

robin paused, waiting. not that she expected an answer. lenny couldn't give her one. he never did; he never would. but unlike the other times she'd spoken to him, she needed a response, even though expecting one was totally illogical.

with every breath she took, robin knew that, but the futility of it hit her, anyway. her frustration was so hard and unexpectedly powerful that it felt like a body blow. robin closed her eyes, hoping the heat of the sun would take away this bitter ache, this dreadful loneliness.

she felt so empty. hollow all the way through.

her fists were clenched at her sides as tears fell from her eyes. embarrassed, she glanced around, grateful that the film crew had attracted most of the sightseers. no one was around to witness her distress.

anger, which for so many years had lain dormant inside her, gushed forth in an avalanche of grief and pain. the tears continued to spill down her cheeks. her lips quivered. her shoulders shook. her hands trembled. it was as if the emotion was pounding against her chest and she was powerless to do anything but stand there and bear it.

anger consumed her now. consumed her because she hadn't allowed it to when lenny was killed. it had been more important to put on a brave front. more important to hold herself together for jeff and for lenny's parents. more important to deal with the present than the past.

lenny had died and robin was furious with him for leaving her alone with a child to raise. leaving her alone to deal with filing taxes and taking out the garbage and repairing leaking pipes. all these years she'd managed on her own. and she'd bottled the anger up inside, afraid of ever letting it go.

"robin."

cole's voice, soft and urgent, reached out from behind her. at the sound, she turned and walked into his arms, sobbing, needing his comfort and his love in equal measure. needing him as she'd never needed anyone before.

she didn't know how long he held her. he was whispering soothing words to her. gentle words. but she heard none of them over the sound of her own suffering.

once she started crying, robin couldn't seem to stop. it was as if a dam had burst inside her and the anguish, stored for too many years, came pouring out.

cole's arms were securely wrapped around her, shielding her. she longed to control this outburst, longed to explain, but every time she tried to speak her sobbing only grew worse.

"let it out," he whispered. "you don't have to say anything. i understand."

"he doesn't answer," she sobbed. "i asked him...lenny never answers me...because he can't. he left me..."

"he didn't want to die," cole told her.

"but he did...he did."

cole didn't argue with her. he simply held her, stroking the back of her head as though reassuring a small child.

it took several minutes for robin to compose herself enough to go on. "part of me realizes that lenny didn't want to leave me, didn't want to die. but he did and i'm so angry at him."

"that anger is what makes us human," cole said. he continued to comfort her and, gradually, bit by bit, robin felt her composure slip back into place.

she sensed jeff's presence even before he spoke.

"what wrong with my mom?" he asked cole.

"she's dealing with some emotional pain," cole explained, speaking as one adult to another.

"is she going to be all right?"

robin hadn't wanted her son to see her crying and made a concerted effort to break away from cole, to reassure jeff herself. cole loosened his hold, but kept his arm around her shoulders.

"i'm fine, jeff. really."

"she doesn't look so good."

her son had developed the irritating habit of talking to cole and not to her when she was upset. they'd done it that day her son had run away to the fort. jeff and cole had carried on an entire conversation about her while she was in their midst then, too.

cole led her to a bench and they all sat down.

jeff plopped down next to her and reached for her hand, patting it several times. leaning toward cole, he said earnestly, "chocolate might help. one time mom told me there wasn't anything in this world chocolate couldn't cure."