The following Saturday, Billy went to a birthday party, which left Jim and me on our own. I don't know what came over me, but I wanted to tell him about the daffodils blooming in the woods. It was just too amazing a thing not to share. I didn't think what might happen if Michael was there, but I suppose some part of me thought the miracle of the flowers would be enough of a distraction.

It took some convincing, but I managed to get Jim to come with me. By this time, I could find the place without hunting for it, and was tugging Jim's arm to hurry him along. When the yellow of the daffodils came into view, I ran ahead until I stood in their center, and with my face lifted joyfully toward the sky, began spinning like a top.

"What the hell are you doing, Eva?"

Jim sounded so irritated, I stopped immediately and looked at him. His lips puckered like he'd eaten a lemon, and there were deep creases in his forehead. For a moment I thought Michael might have been there and that was why Jim looked so pissy, but we were alone.

"I'm dancing in the flowers, of course. Aren't they just amazing?"

"What flowers? You're standing in a patch of dead leaves."

It was my turn to look irritated.

"Dead leaves?" I picked a daffodil and waved it under his nose. "Does this look like a dead leaf to you?"

"That's exactly what it looks like because that's what it is."

I didn't know what to say. It wasn't like Jim to be contrary for no reason, so why was he acting like this?

"Eva, honey, are you all right?" His voice went all solicitous and he was looking at me as if I'd gone crazy.

"I'm fine!" I shouted. "Just fine. Let's forget the whole thing." Then I turned and stomped off ahead of him toward the house.

Jim wanted to talk when we got home, but I gave him the cold shoulder, so he skulked off to the den to watch TV. We didn't speak to each other for the rest of the weekend.

On Monday, I went back to the place in the woods. Michael was waiting for me.

"I brought Jim to see the flowers," I said, without preamble.

"I know."

"He denied they were there. Told me I was seeing things!"

"I told you not to tell him," Michael said.

I hated hearing I-told-you-so from him, so I went on the offensive. "If you'd been here, you could've backed me up."

He shrugged. "Perhaps." An odd expression came over his face, a cross between impatience and seduction. "Maybe we shouldn't meet here anymore." He leaned close, his green eyes mesmerizing, as he slowly ran a finger along my cheek and over my bottom lip.

"You are so pretty," he said. "So very, very pretty."

Then he kissed me.