As much as good fortune blessed Eden by rescuing her a second time, it spared Josh the ordeal of being a helpless bystander. By the time the Rabins returned from Europe, her crisis was a thing of the past. What mattered now was that in ten days he’d leave for Ithaca.

Eden had been waiting for the call. She wasted no time on greetings. “Can I come over?”

“If you don’t mind total chaos,” Debbie answered.

Despite the August heat she ran most of the way. The door was open and she burst in without bothering to ring. “Hello!” she shouted. “Welcome to the U.S. of A.”

Esther came out to meet her and called the rest of the family. “Excuse us, Edie, we’re not ready for a formal reception. Just look at me.” She pointed to her disheveled self.

Debbie and Max appeared next. Eden looked expectantly from one doorway to another.

“Where’s Josh?” No answer. She was panicked. “Didn’t he come back with you?”

The three Rabin faces remained deadpan. “I thought you raced over here to see us.” Eden was struck dumb, she didn’t know if Max was serious or joking. Esther couldn’t keep it up.

“Poor girl! And Max, how cruel of you.” They all burst into laughter, and at that moment Josh appeared in the living-room doorway, striking a pose. “Ta-da!”

Eden walked slowly over to him, looked into his face, and fell into his arms shamelessly. Let them watch all they want. But “they,” their practical joke played, did not embarrass her further. There was unpacking to be done and plans to be made for eating.

“It’s so good to see you,” they said in unison. For more than a minute they just stood, arms around each other. “And you’ll be gone again in no time.”

“More than a week. We’ll have time.”

“But you have to shop for clothes, soap, washcloths, and all that stuff. Is your mom sewing nametags in your undershirts? Do you have a flashlight? A canteen?” She was laughing to avoid crying. “I should get out of the way.” She wiped her eyes. “You’ve got lots to do. Will you call me in the morning? I have to tell you about my penicillin reaction.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Karen phoned. “Esther, have you finished moving back in?”

“Oh, how I wish. There’s so much to do. Food, laundry, cleaning, people wanting to know every last detail about our trip. I wouldn’t mind if we weren’t also getting Josh ready. But I’m glad you called. You’re going to get some fallout from Josh’s leaving.”

“That’s the very reason I called. The way Edie was counting the days, and the way she flew over there. . .”

“I hope you’re not upset,” Esther said. “They’re both having such a good time.”

“But they’re so young, especially Edie. We shouldn’t just stand by.”

“So you suggest a parents’ conference?” Esther asked, thankful that Karen couldn’t see the laughter in her eyes. “Tell you what, let’s play bridge, the four of us. It’s been a while. We’ll come to your house and Edie can come here. That way we’ll be free to talk.”

Josh and Eden were on the phone in no time. “Can’t I see you before then?” she pleaded.

“I’ll call you as soon as I know when we’re going shopping. We also have to make a trip to New York to see my grandparents. That’ll take a whole day.”

“Can’t you do that on the way up? . . . Oh I’m so sorry,” she caught herself before he could answer. “I have no business making suggestions like that.”

“I like your suggestion. But Dad’s already vetoed it. New York City isn’t really on the way. Besides, we’d have to spend the night, and they don’t have enough room for all of us.”

“At least we’ll have Sunday.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The Rabins were two thousand points ahead. “Let’s talk, it’s more fun,” Alan said.

After Karen had served dessert, he turned to Max. “So ― Josh’s off to college this week.”

“Day after tomorrow,” Max answered. “I remember when we first came to Philly. His Bar Mitzvah. His first day at Central. His first game on the school team, heading the ball with his nose instead of his forehead. It seems so long ago. Then that trip on the Blue Ridge Parkway. . . . It’s going to be quiet without him.”

“We’ll all miss him, but Edie especially.”

“Yes,” Esther said. “I guess the reason we’re here tonight is to talk about them, isn’t it?” She turned to Karen. “Karen, it was your idea. You were worried. I can understand that. Edie’s quite a bit younger.”

“She’s also the girl,” said Max.

“You’re not suggesting a double standard, are you?” Karen was clearly offended. The others felt uncomfortable, but Max escaped gracefully.

“I’m sure none of us around this table believe in a double standard. But I wouldn’t be surprised if we sometimes act that way without thinking.”

Esther thought this diversion was a waste of time. “Look, we’ve all been watching this, so let’s put our feelings on the table. I can tell you, speaking for myself, I think it’s OK. More than OK. They look happy. I’m very simple-minded about things like that. Two people have found happiness ― however trite that sounds ― and it’s cost nobody anything. Why fight it?”

“But those things don’t last,” Alan said. “They break up and then they’re miserable.”

“So,” Esther shot back, “do you want to do the breaking up for them? Will they be any less miserable that way? I’ll tell you something: Not only will they be more miserable, but they’ll resent us, maybe for the rest of their lives. I say let nature take its course.”

Max suddenly looked thoughtful. “I wonder if that trip last fall had something to do with all this. It was as if he’d had some kind of revelation. Didn’t it look that way to you, Esther?”

“That’s exactly what it looked like. I’ve never pried into it. I hoped he’d say something, but he hasn’t. He seemed to grow up all of a sudden, become more serious and considerate.”

“They started getting interested in each other about that time,” Max said.

“I just thought of something else,” Karen said. “She came in one day, full of enthusiasm over a handful of leaves, as if it were the first time she’d ever noticed the fall colors.”

Max’s face lit up. “Yes, she brought them over to the sukkah. She can’t have known what was going on in Josh’s mind, I’m sure of that. So they came up with their little discoveries independently. Quite a coincidence. Obviously made for each other.” He spread his hands.

“Fall Colors Spawn Love. What a title!” Alan said.

“We don’t know what’s cause and what’s effect, but—” Esther began, but Max broke in.

“You’re right! It could be, Love Causes Fall Colors.”

“Oh, stop it already!” Esther sounded exasperated. “What I mean is, who cares really? Now we have these two, and at this very moment they’re—”

“—discussing fall colors, no doubt,” Alan finished. Esther threw up her hands.

“All right,” Karen joined in again. “What do we think they are doing?”

“Nothing dangerous, I’ll vouch,” Esther said, grateful for Karen’s rescue. “Kids this age do things. If they don’t, either they’re retarded or they’ve been brought up in a straitjacket. They’re both smart. They know when to stop. I wouldn’t think of lecturing them.”

“Do you think it could be platonic?” Karen asked.

“No,” Max said. “You should’ve seen the way they fell on each other when Edie came over the other day. Still, I have a feeling this thing between them is mostly spiritual, as if they’d discovered soulmates in each other. Which doesn’t mean they won’t get physical, as young people are apt to do. But I agree with Esther, they won’t let it get out of hand.”

Alan looked at him with amusement. “You have hard data to support that conclusion?”

“No, just intuition,” Max said with a self-deprecating laugh.

“I didn’t know men had intuition,” Karen said.

Max stared at her. “A double standard? You? No, I didn’t hear that.” He covered his ears.

“Touché,” Karen said. “You’re so right about what we do without thinking.”

“Back on the subject ― once more,” Esther said. This time she was faking exasperation. “I say rejoice with them. Edie’s a lovely girl and Josh is lucky she’s his friend. I’m not the least bit afraid that anything bad will come of it. That’s my opinion.”

“I agree,” Max said. “If I don’t have intuition, at least I can coattail on my wife’s.”

Karen made a face. “You’ve made your point, Max. OK? Now seriously, what worries me is not sex, heartbreak, or any of that stuff. I’ll go along with not meddling on that level. But I am afraid of them getting so serious, they’ll be impatient to get married. Even if they wait till Josh graduates from college, she’ll still only be twenty.”

“What’s wrong with being married in college, or in grad school?” Alan asked his wife.

“Married is OK. But then come the children, and ‘poof’ goes the career.”

“We didn’t have children right away,” he said.

“No, not right away,” Karen answered in a tone that discouraged further comment.

“That’s a long time off, Karen,” Esther said quietly, “and I’m sure if and when they face that decision they’ll do what’s right for them.”

Somewhat less gently Alan said, “We can’t do it for them, and we shouldn’t even try. Besides, who knows what her condition will be five years from now? She may go into heart failure, she may be advised against pregnancy, she may need valve surgery. Who knows?”

Karen had gone into the kitchen. She stayed out several minutes, prompting questioning looks from Esther and Max. When she returned she was blowing her nose.

“We’re speculating,” Max said. “For all we know, in three months they’ll have forgotten all about each other.” No one believed him. “They also aren’t of the same faith.”

Esther sighed. “If things ever get to where that’s an issue,” she said, “I can only hope that we, the parents, are ready to support them. Let’s play another rubber.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Large puddles, left by the thunderstorm just past, forced Eden and Josh to walk single file. Once in the park, they had no streetlights to guide their steps. Now they walked on twigs and rocks, with mud between. They joined hands and lifted their faces to catch the scent of the foliage and the intermittent showers of rainwater dislodged by the breeze. Neither spoke, as if agreed that conversation would have been an intrusion on their communion with nature.

They turned onto a darker side path. As their eyes adjusted, they made out the silhouettes of treetops against the overcast sky, which, glowed softly from reflected city lights.

“Light pollution isn’t all bad.” Josh broke the silence. “If it weren’t for that, we wouldn’t be able to see two feet in front of us.”

“Wouldn’t bother me one bit,” Eden answered. “Did you ever go on a trust walk?”

“What’s that?”

“Camp stuff. Everybody forms a chain and closes their eyes. Then you walk, holding on to each other’s hands. Only the leader sees where he’s going; the rest have to trust him.”

“Sounds simple. Obviously the leader doesn’t go off a cliff, so why would the rest?”

“Yes, it sounds simple, but it gets spooky. If you’re on the side of a mountain or you hear water, it’s downright scary. Remember, you’re a blind person following another blind person, and you’re responsible for the one behind you. The farther back you are the spookier it gets.”

“They didn’t do that at any of the camps I went to. Probably didn’t trust anybody.”

“I’m doing it right now. My eyes are closed.”

“Are you trusting me?”

“Yes, Josh, I trust you. Lead me somewhere.”

A few yards farther he turned into a trail. “Are you still trusting?” he asked.

“Yes. I think we’re off the path. The ground feels rougher than before. Am I right?”

“You’re right. OK if we keep going? It gets rougher still.”

“Yes, go as far as you want. I’ll follow.”

It took almost five minutes to cover the next hundred feet, because in the woods Josh’s vision was not much better than Eden’s. Then the moon appeared in a gap between the clouds. Eden was unaware of this and was alarmed by his sudden stop.

“Is something wrong, Josh? Did you hear something?”

“Don’t open your eyes, but the moon just came out and I had to stop to look. It’s a real work of art. The clouds part like a curtain, and there’s the lead actor in full splendor.”

“It’s hard not to look. Is it full, half, or what?”

“Half. Do you remember that night, Edie? The first time we ever walked together?”

“I couldn’t forget it if I wanted to. And I don’t ever want to. May I say something?”

He paused, feeling the palpitations of his heart. “Speak, Edie. I’m listening.”

“When I got home that night I was supposed to study. But I turned off the light and stared at the moon. It hypnotized me. I stared and stared, and I had a vision of the moon changing into your face. I would have sat there all night if Mom hadn’t come and checked on me. I knew then that I wanted to see you again. I mean in a dating situation.”

Josh turned and reached for her other hand. “Open your eyes, Edie, and look at me. You don’t need to find my face in the moon. It’s right here on earth. The way I feel this moment, I wish I didn’t have to go. But two days from now I won’t be here. My life is changing. For all I know, I may never live in my parents’ home again. After college there could be graduate school, God knows where, or a job someplace. Everything is so uncertain. Sometimes I have such doubts about going to Cornell. I could have gotten a perfectly good education closer to home. Suppose you have another reaction to some medication, I’d want to be here.”

“Inside I feel the same way, but I also know that decision was right. After we talked about it that time, I asked myself, who am I to advise you? Then I realized that if I, who didn’t want you to go, feel so strongly that you should, then anyone without my feelings would surely tell you the same, so it must be right. So please, Josh, please don’t look back now.”

“You are amazing. How can anyone be so selfless?”

“It’s not selflessness. What’s best for you makes me the happiest. So it’s me I’m looking out for. If I can feel I’ve done the right thing, that’ll keep me going when I miss you most. And don’t worry about my allergy. I’m on sulfa now and I’m fine.”

“Edie,” Josh said, hesitating, “we’ve never come right out and said how we feel—”

“Don’t,” she stopped him, in a voice barely above a whisper. “No magic words. If we can’t read each other without them, they aren’t worth saying anyway.”

He pulled her a little toward him. “There’s a physical language too. We’ve never done anything in private that we haven’t been willing for all to see.”

She looked into his eyes without speaking. “Part of me wants very much to make love to you,” he went on, “but something holds me back. As though it would cheapen our friendship. We have something so special, I want to keep it ― oh, I guess ‘pure’ is as good a word as any. Whatever it is, it has to do with responding the same way to things of beauty. Remember how we marveled together at the moon and the stars, the spider on its invisible thread, the fall colors? With you I feel comfortable sharing thoughts that would embarrass me with anyone else. I don’t want anything to distract from that.”

“I wish physical expression didn’t have to distract from the spiritual,” she said. “One should add to the other. But it’s too soon, especially for me. I’m so glad you’re not pushing it, because I just don’t know whether I could resist. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“How could I not? It seems that every time we talk there’s something new for me to marvel at. Here we are, both wanting to cross that line and both valuing our friendship so much that we’re agreeing not to. How often does it happen that two people can make each other feel good by not making love? What we have is magic, do you know that, Edie?”

“Yes, magic,” she said quietly. For a while the rustle of leaves was the only sound. “We won’t be seeing each other for months. I want to remember the feel of your heart beating.”

She put her right hand on his chest and focused her attention until she thought she could feel beat. Not moving, she allowed the sensation to flood through her until she was saturated.

“Now feel mine,” she said softly. Slowly pulling his right hand toward her, she placed her left breast in his palm, covered his hand with hers, and pressed. In a voice he barely recognized as his own, he murmured, “How I wish I could touch it and make it well.”

For a full minute they stood in that position before they dropped their hands. Then, closing their eyes on expressions too eloquent for words, they embraced as never before, sought each other’s mouth, and for the first time drank of each other.

“Oh my God,” he said as they stepped back. He looked at her and closed his eyes again. “Thank goodness the ground is sopping wet. Else, I don’t know where this would end.”

“Come, Josh, take me straight home, and let’s not speak a single word more.”

She took his left hand in her right, squeezed so tight that it hurt, and pulled him along.