Fine things by Danielle Steel Page B

to frighten her by mentioning it. “Sometimes they won't even let her stay home from work when I'm sick.” She went on, obviously shocked by the callousness of her mother's employers, as she looked up at him. But the comment brought her mother to mind. And suddenly her eyes grew very wide. “Where is my Mom?”
    “I don't know, Jane.” He smiled very gently at her, glancing around. There was no one else in sight, except the saleswomen who had been talking to the buyer a few moments before. They were still standing near the cash register, but there was no one else there. Jane's mother was clearly nowhere around. “Do you remember where you saw her last?”
    She squinted at him, thinking back. “She was buying pink pantyhose downstairs …” She looked up at him a little sheepishly. “I wanted to see the bathing suits.” She glanced around where they stood. They were everywhere, and she had obviously come upstairs by herself, to look at them. “We're going to the beach next week …” Her voice trailed off and she looked at him. “The bathing suits are very nice.” She had been standing next to a rack of tiny little bikinis when he first noticed her. But now he saw her lower lip trembling and he reached a hand out to her.
    “Why don't we see if we can find your Mom.” But she shook her head and took a step back from him.
    “I'm not supposed to go with anyone.” He gestured to one of the women, who approached cautiously as Bernie saw tears bulging in the child's eyes, but she was still fighting them, which he thought valiant of her.
    “What about if we go to the restaurant and have an ice cream or something, while this lady looks for your Mom?” Jane looked at them both cautiously as the woman smiled. Bernie explained that her mother had been buying pantyhose on the main floor when Jane came upstairs, and then he turned to the woman quietly. “Why don't you activate the P. A. system in this case?” They had it for use in case of fire, or bomb threats, or some other emergency, but it would be simple to use it now to page Jane's mother for her. “Call my office and they'll take care of it.” He looked down at Jane again as she used the dolly to wipe her eyes. “What's your Mom's name? Her last name I mean.” He smiled and she looked up at him trustingly, despite her unwillingness to go anywhere with him. Her mother had drummed that into her well and he respected that.
    “Same as mine.” Jane almost smiled again.
    “And what's that?”
    “O'Reilly.” This time she grinned. “It's Irish. And I'm Catholic. Are you?” She seemed fascinated by him, and he was equally so with her. He smiled to himself, thinking that this may have been the woman he had been waiting for, for thirty-four years. She was certainly the best one he had met in a very long time.
    “I'm Jewish,” he explained as the woman went off to put the message on the hidden loudspeakers.
    “What's that?” She looked intrigued.
    “It means we have Chanukah instead of Christmas.”
    “Does Santa Claus come to your house?” She looked concerned and that was a difficult one.
    “We exchange gifts for eight days.” He avoided her question with an explanation of his own, and she looked impressed.
    “Eight days? That's pretty good.” And then suddenly, she grew more serious, forgetting her mother again. “Do you believe in God?”
    He nodded, surprised at the depth of her thought. He himself hadn't thought of God in a long time, and he was ashamed to admit it to her. She had obviously been put in his path to straighten up his act. “Yes, I do.”
    “Me too.” She nodded and then looked at him searchingly again. “Do you think my Mommy will come back soon?” The tears were threatening again, but she was in better shape now.
    “I'm sure of it. Can I interest you in that ice cream now? The restaurant is right over there.” He pointed to it, and she looked in the direction of his hand, greatly intrigued. The ice cream sounded good to