John said. He smoothed her hair back from her forehead and kissed her cheek. It was about midnight Thanksgiving night, and they were lying together in her bed after making love. “I wish you’d tell me what it is.” He felt her stiffen in his arms. He gently turned her face toward him and looked into her eyes. In the muted light, her eyes had the luster of dark pearls. “What is it?” he said. She sighed, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. “Nothing.” “I don’t believe you. Was it something that happened today?” It must have been, because on the way to her family’s home, she’d been happy, even exuberant, if that adjective could ever be applied to someone as reserved as Sydney. But since they’d left her parents’ place, she’d been remote. Even during their lovemaking, he had felt the distance between them. When she didn’t answer him, he said, “I really liked your family, by the way.” “That was certainly obvious.” John frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
