For a moment I thought he wasn't going to
reply. Then he smirked.
"Who do you think would be up this late? My
mother, of course.
"Oh. You sounded like you were arguing," I
said.
"She does that to me often, turn me into a tight
ball of nerves until I want to smash the phone against
the wall,"
He took a deep breath. "Is it about us?" I asked. "No, no. My sister is having a rather elaborate
birthday party for my niece tomorrow night. and
Mother dear is afraid I won't show up. Every birthday
party is bigger than the previous one, both in size and
expense. I don't know what they'll do for her
sixteenth. Probably rent the White House," he said.
"People here often compete using their children and
what they do for them, and my mother knows I'm not
terribly fond of being a part of all that. Anyway, why
are you making me talk about it?"
"I'm not making you. Thatcher. I just asked
because you sounded upset."
"Willow, when I'm with you. I don't remain
upset about anything very long," he said, moving
toward me. "Even if you wear the mask."
I laughed, and we kissed.
"Come on." he said. "We'd better get going.
Maybe we can manage to spend a whole weekend here together soon," he added, gazing around. "What
do you think?"
"Maybe," I said, without sounding too
optimistic. He studied my face for a moment, and