I watched them for a few minutes, enjoying their antics, pleased they were having such fun. I was about to go into the kitchen to see what was happening when Andrew appeared at my side. After kissing me on the cheek, he handed me a huge bunch of red and white carnations.

"Sorry they didn't have any blue ones to make exactly the right color scheme for today," he murmured against my cheek and kissed me again.

"They only have those odd colors occasionally. Usually on Saint Patrick's Day, when they dye them green," I said. "And thank you, darling." I peered at him closely. "The twins think we're trying to make a baby, Andrew."

"Well, we are."

"They're riddled with curiosity about it. Why on earth did you tell them?"

He laughed. "I didn't mean to, it wasn't planned. Honestly, Puss. It just popped out. They were being impossible this morning, and Lissa's become something of a Miss Know-It-All. I wanted to bring them up short, so I gave them a lecture about being more adult in their behavior. And that's when I mentioned a new baby. The kids were rendered speechless, so it had the desired effect. Momentarily." He chuckled again. "I can tell you this, the grannies were delighted. Absolutely thrilled."

"What did you just call me?" Diana exclaimed, stepping out of the sunroom onto the terrace.

"Oh, hi, Ma," Andrew greeted her. Then another laugh broke free, and he hugged her to him. "Granny. I called you and Jessica grannies, Ma. But I have to admit, you're the greatest-looking grannies I've ever seen in my entire life. The most beautiful. And you both have fabulous legs."

"Your husband's quite the flatterer," his mother said to me and winked.

"He's only telling the truth, Diana," I answered and edged toward the sunroom door. "I've got to go in and change for lunch now, if you don't mind."

"Go right ahead, Mal, I'll just sit here and watch my grandchildren frolicking in the water." She sat on a white terrace chair, her eyes immediately focusing on the pool.

"I'll come with you." Andrew said to me. He took hold of my arm, and together we went through the French doors. Trixy followed us automatically, scampering along behind.

As we crossed the sunroom, Andrew whispered in my ear, "Want to try for the baby now? Or don't you have time?"

"Oh, you! You're impossible! Incorrigible!" But despite my words, I smiled up at him.

Bending over me, Andrew kissed the tip of my nose. "I do love you, Puss," he murmured, his expression suddenly serious. Then his face changed yet again, and a mischievous glint flickered in his blue eyes as he said, "Listen, I'm willing to try any time, anywhere. All you have to do is say the word."

I laughed. "Tonight?".

"You've got a date," he said.

Connecticut, October 1988

The birds had come back.

A great flock of them had landed on the lawn not far from the swimming pool, just as they had done yesterday. They perched there now, immobile, silent, creating a swath of black against the grass, which was strewn with fallen autumn leaves of burnished red and gold.

I could see them quite clearly through the windows of my studio. They looked for all the world like birds of prey to me. An involuntary shiver ran through me at this thought, bringing gooseflesh to my neck and face.

Putting down my paintbrush, I stepped around the easel and opened the door.

Observing the birds from the threshold, I could not help wondering why they still sat out there. Several hours ago, when I was in the bedroom, I had seen them land, and the amazing thing was that they continued to linger, not moving a single feather nor making the faintest twitter of a sound.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash of color, and I swung around to look over at the house.

Sarah was coming down the steps of the terrace, carrying a tray. She was bundled up against the autumnal chill, dressed in an oversized gray sweater, gray wool pants, and black suede boots. A long, scarlet wool scarf was flung around her neck, and it was this which had caught my attention a second before.

"What were you staring at so intently?" she asked as she drew closer.

"Those black birds over there," I answered, gesturing toward them. "They keep coming back."

Pausing in her tracks, Sarah glanced over her shoulder and grimaced. "They look so strange," she murmured. "So… ominous."

"I know what you mean," I said and opened the door wider to let her come into the studio.

"I thought you might like a cup of coffee," she said. "Mind if I join you? Or am I interrupting your work?"

"No, you're not, and I'd love a cup." Turning away from the peculiar gathering of birds, I closed the door and followed her inside. Moving a box of watercolors and a jar of water, I made room for the tray on a small table in front of the old sofa.

Sarah sat down and poured the coffee. As she glanced up and looked through the window, she exclaimed, "Jesus, what are those birds doing on the lawn? There're so many of them, Mal."

"I know, and it is weird, isn't it? The way they sit like that, I mean. But we do get a lot of wildlife out here these days. The wetlands down there near the beaver dam are a sanctuary, and Canada geese and mallard ducks come and occupy the pond, and sometimes a blue heron pays us a visit. Andrew's even seen a hawk from time to time. At least, he thinks it's a hawk."

"Are those blackbirds?"

"Crows," I replied. "Or maybe rooks. What do you think?"

"Search me, I'm not a bird-watcher, I'm afraid."

I laughed, took a sip of coffee, and bit into a macaroon.

Sarah did the same, then looked over the rim of her coffee cup and asked, "Have you made your mind up yet? About going to London to meet Andrew next weekend?"

"I think so. I'd like to go, Sarah, since he's going to be stuck there for another two weeks. That's if you don't mind coming up here with Jennifer and the twins. Actually, if you prefer it, you could move into the apartment in the city for the few days I'll be gone."

"You know I love to play Mommy, how much I adore Jamie and Lissa, and I'm delighted to come up here. Frankly, these quiet weekends far from the maddening crowd are a blessing. I seem to be able to really recharge my batteries out here. And, God knows, I need to do that these days. There's such a lot of pressure at work. So make your plans. I'll hold down the fort, and very happily. In any case, I-" She broke off and stared out the window facing onto the lawn.

I followed her glance, then sprang up and ran to the door. I pulled it open and stepped outside. The birds had taken off in a great flurry all of a sudden, rising up off the lawn with a flapping and whirring of wings. I craned my neck backward to watch them soar upward into the gray and bitter fall sky. I saw at once that the span of their wings was very wide; they were big birds. They climbed up higher, wheeling and turning against the leaden sky, then circled over the studio, casting a dark shadow across its roof.

"They're not blackbirds or crows," I said. "They're far too large. Those birds are ravens."

"Shades of Edgar Allan Poe," Sarah intoned in a low voice directly behind me.

She startled me. I hadn't realized she had followed me to the door. I swung around to face her. "You made me jump! Gave me quite a start!" I exclaimed. "I didn't know you were standing there. And what do you mean, shades of Edgar Allan Poe?"

"Ravens are very Poe-ish," she said, "always in his writings. They're considered to be birds of ill omen, harbingers of death, you know."

A coldness trickled through me. I felt myself shivering. "Don't say things like that, Sash; you frighten me."

"Don't be so silly." She laughed. "I'm only kidding."

"You know very well I've never liked anything that's macabre or ghoulish or has to do with the occult-" I didn't finish my sentence. Sarah was staring at me, concern reflected in her eyes.