“He’s a genius,” Jennifer flatly informed Mrs. Mackey.

Jennifer planned Joshua’s first birthday party as though it were being given at the White House. On Saturday she shopped for gifts. She bought Joshua clothes and books and toys, and a tricycle he would not be able to use for another year or two. She bought favors for the neighbors’ children she had invited to the party, and she spent the afternoon putting up streamers and balloons. She baked the birthday cake herself and left it on the kitchen table. Somehow, Joshua got hold of the cake and grabbed handfuls of it and crammed it into his mouth, ruining it before the other guests arrived.

Jennifer had invited a dozen children from the neighborhood, and their mothers. The only adult male guest was Ken Bailey. He brought Joshua a tricycle, a duplicate of the one Jennifer had bought.

Jennifer laughed and said, “That’s ridiculous, Ken. Joshua’s not old enough for that.”

The party only lasted two hours, but it was splendid. The children ate too much and were sick on the rug, and fought over the toys and cried when their balloons burst, but all in all, Jennifer decided, it was a triumph. Joshua had been a perfect host, handling himself, with the exception of a few minor incidents, with dignity and aplomb.

That night, after all the guests had left and Joshua had been put to bed, Jennifer sat at his bedside watching her sleeping son, marveling at this wonderful creature that had come from her body and the loins of Adam Warner. Adam would have been so proud to have seen how Joshua had behaved. Somehow, the joy was diminished because it was hers alone.

Jennifer thought of all the birthdays to come. Joshua would be two years old, then five, then ten and twenty. And he would be a man and he would leave her. He would make his own life for himself.

Stop it! Jennifer scolded herself. You’re feeling sorry for yourself. She lay in bed that night, wide awake, reliving every detail of the party, remembering it all.

One day, perhaps, she could tell Adam about it.

32

In the months that followed, Senator Adam Warner was becoming a household word. His background, ability and charisma had made him a presence in the Senate from the beginning. He won a place on several important committees and he sponsored a piece of major labor legislation that passed quickly and easily. Adam Warner had powerful friends in Congress. Many had known and respected his father. The consensus was that Adam was going to be a presidential contender one day. Jennifer felt a bittersweet pride.

Jennifer received constant invitations from clients, associates and friends to dinner and the theater and various charity affairs, but she refused almost all of them. From time to time she would spend an evening with Ken. She enjoyed his company immensely. He was funny and self-deprecating, but beneath the facade of lightness, Jennifer knew, there was a sensitive, tormented man. He would sometimes come to the house for lunch or dinner on weekends, and he would play with Joshua for hours. They loved each other.

Once, when Joshua had been put to bed and Jennifer and Ken were having dinner in the kitchen, Ken kept staring at Jennifer until she asked, “Is anything wrong?”

“Christ, yes,” Ken groaned. “I’m sorry. What a bitch of a world this is.”

And he would say nothing further.

Adam had not tried to get in touch with Jennifer in almost nine months now, but she avidly read every newspaper and magazine article about him, and watched him whenever he appeared on television. She thought about him constantly. How could she not? Her son was a living reminder of Adam’s presence. Joshua was two years old now and incredibly like his father. He had the same serious blue eyes and the identical mannerisms. Joshua was a tiny, dear replica, warm and loving and full of eager questions.

To Jennifer’s surprise, Joshua’s first words had been car-car, when she took him for a drive one day.

He was speaking in sentences now and he said please and thank you. Once, when Jennifer was trying to feed him in his high chair, he said impatiently, “Mama, go play with your toys.”

Ken had bought Joshua a paint set, and Joshua industriously set about painting the walls of the living room.

When Mrs. Mackey wanted to spank him, Jennifer said, “Don’t. It will wash off. Joshua’s just expressing himself.”

“That’s all I wanted to do,” Mrs. Mackey sniffed. “Express myself. You’ll spoil that boy rotten.”

But Joshua was not spoiled. He was mischievous and demanding, but that was normal for a two-year-old. He was afraid of the vacuum cleaner, wild animals, trains and the dark.

Joshua was a natural athlete. Once, watching him at play with some of his friends, Jennifer turned to Mrs. Mackey and said, “Even though I’m Joshua’s mother, I’m able to look at him objectively, Mrs. Mackey. I think he may be the Second Coming.”

Jennifer had made it a policy to avoid any cases that would take her out of town and away from Joshua, but one morning she received an urgent call from Peter Fenton, a client who owned a large manufacturing firm.

“I’m buying a factory in Las Vegas and I’d like you to fly down there and meet with their lawyers.”

“Let me send Dan Martin,” Jennifer suggested. “You know I don’t like to go out of town, Peter.”

“Jennifer, you can wrap the whole thing up in twenty-four hours. I’ll fly you down in the company plane and you’ll be back the next day.”

Jennifer hesitated. “All right.”

She had been to Las Vegas and was indifferent to it. It was impossible to hate Las Vegas or to like it. One had to look upon it as a phenomenon, an alien civilization with its own language, laws and morals. It was like no other city in the world. Huge neon lights blazed all night long, pro-claiming the glories of the magnificent palaces that had been built to deplete the purses of tourists who flocked in like lemmings and lined up to have their carefully hoarded savings taken away from them.

Jennifer gave Mrs. Mackey a long and detailed list of instructions about taking care of Joshua.

“How long are you going to be away, Mrs. Parker?”

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Mothers!”

Peter Fenton’s Lear jet picked Jennifer up early the next morning and flew her to Las Vegas. Jennifer spent the afternoon and evening working out the details of the contract. When they finished, Peter Fenton asked Jennifer to have dinner with him.

“Thank you, Peter, but I think I’ll stay in my room and get to bed early. I’m returning to New York in the morning.”

Jennifer had talked to Mrs. Mackey three times during the day and had been reassured each time that little Joshua was fine. He had eaten his meals, he had no fever and he seemed happy.

“Does he miss me?” Jennifer asked.

“He didn’t say,” Mrs. Mackey sighed.

Jennifer knew that Mrs. Mackey thought she was a fool, but Jennifer did not care.

“Tell him I’ll be home tomorrow.”

“I’ll give him the message, Mrs. Parker.”

Jennifer had intended to have a quiet dinner in her suite, but for some reason, the rooms suddenly became oppressive, the walls seemed to be closing in on her. She could not stop thinking about Adam.

How could he have made love to Mary Beth and made her pregnant when…

The game Jennifer always played, that her Adam was just away on a business trip and would soon return to her, did not work this time. Jennifer’s mind kept returning to a picture of Mary Beth in her lace negligee and Adam…

She had to get out, to be somewhere where there were noisy crowds of people. Perhaps, Jennifer thought, I might even see a show. She quickly showered, dressed and went downstairs.