Storiesonline.net
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                                 Beth 5
                           by Svengali's Ghost

Copyright© 2011 by Svengali's Ghost


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Description: The next volume of Tommy and Beth's tale. It starts in the Caribbean and who knows where it will go from there.

Codes: MF rom slow
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Chapter 1

"TOMMY! BETH!"

I looked up and saw Sue Webber waving her hand over her head. I wasn't surprised to see her, even though we hadn't made any arrangement for them to pick us up.

I looked at Beth and got a blank shrug. "I don't know, Tommy."

We had just cleared Customs at Nassau International and were waiting for our luggage when our Caribbean friend hailed us.

"Hi, what are you doing here?" I asked Sue after the mandatory—and quite enjoyable—hugs.

"Waiting for you two, of course."

"Yeah, but how did you know..." I looked at Beth and saw a mirror image of my perplexed look.

Sue's grin widened. "Oh, ve haff our vays," she said, doing Erich von Stroheim as badly as I did. Except with her sexy alto she sounded more like Natasha Fatale.

"Well, I shouldn't give away our methods, but Matt let us know you were coming and Beth, a quick e-mail to your folks took care of the details."

"So where's Bob?" I asked as we grabbed our bags.

"Oh, he's in town picking up some stuff we forgot to get last time we were here. C'mon, I've got the car outside." She led us out to a battered old Vauxhall. "Speaking of stuff, do you guys want to stop at the market? I think we've got Matt's place pretty well stocked for you, but if there's anything special it's easier to get it now than to have to make a separate trip."

"Oh, I do have a couple of things I should probably pick up," Beth said. "Can we just drop Tommy off? You know guys and shopping." Sue just grinned.

"Now wait a minute! I'm not that bad!" I protested, which got a chuckle out of Sue.

"Sure," she replied. "You can spend your time waiting by taking pictures of the boats just to prove you were down here." Sue said that with a straight face, but I could see just a bit of a humorous glint in her eyes.

After we loaded our luggage and climbed in Sue took off—driving on what seemed like the wrong side of the road. Since we'd been down here twice before you'd think I'd be getting used to driving on the left side, but that didn't stop me from flinching every time we met a car coming from the other direction. It didn't take too long to get to the marina. Bob was already there and seemed to enjoy the hug he got from Beth ... almost as much as I'd enjoyed Sue's greeting.

"Beth and I have some shopping to do. Can you keep Tommy occupied? I'm sure there're SOME of your stories he hasn't heard yet."

That earned Sue a hurt look from her husband. Feigned, I was sure.

"You know, Tommy, sometimes an author just can't get any respect," he sighed. This from someone whose books had sold millions of copies. Speaking of books...

"Bob, Beth and I want thank both of you again for sending us your books. We've enjoyed them a lot. Beth even talked me into reading some of Sue's romances and she's really gotten into your mysteries."

"Thanks, I'm glad you like them. By the way, thank you for doing the picture for my latest effort. It's a kick to finally see my mug on one of my books. That's the one problem of writing under a pseudonym.

"Oh, and a big thanks for the portraits you did—both of them."

By that time we had everything onboard the Lady Suzanne. Bob went below and came back with a couple of beers.

"Do you indulge?" he asked, handing me a bottle.

"Not often. After all, I'm not that old yet."

"I keep forgetting that. The two of you seem so mature. You're what now, nineteen? That's legal down here."

"It is?" Hmm, I'd have to remember that...

"My dad used to give me a beer occasionally after a hot day working in the yard but I guess I haven't had enough to develop a taste for it."

Bob gave me an incredulous look. "I'd include you in my next book, but no one would believe it—a college kid who doesn't live on beer?" he kidded me as we sat back enjoying the perfect weather ... and our brews.

Eventually Sue and Beth came back, shopping bags in hand, and we were on our way.

We'd barely cleared the harbor when our ladies disappeared into the cabin, only to reappear in bikinis that would have scandalized their grandmothers—well, maybe not Beth's grandmother, I thought, remembering some of the stories Joan had told of her younger days in the Free-Love Sixties.

The Webbers dropped us off at Matt's beach house with a promise to see us the following day.

While Beth started on our suitcases I put the groceries and the other stuff away. She'd picked up a couple of tubes of sun screen, too—a necessity down here.

"I need a shower," Beth said after she'd had unpacked our few items. We'd learned to pack light for our trips—a few swim suits, t-shirts, shorts and underwear pretty much covered it. "If we need anything else, we'll buy it down there," Beth explained when she packed. "Might as well support the local economy. After all it's only the polite thing to do as guests." Sounded to me like an excuse for her to go shopping with Sue.

I was so fascinated watching her slip out of her clothes and walk toward the shower that I almost forgot to follow her. Almost.

If I live to be a hundred I hope I never lose my ability to enjoy showering with my lady, standing there, holding her as the hot water cascaded down on us.

"Tommy, are we really here?" she asked as she snuggled back into me.

"Oh, yeah," I replied as I ran my soapy hands over her small breasts with their hardening nipples. "And this time we don't have to be back any time soon."

"Mmmm..." was her only response.

"So are you hungry?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah. I could use some food, too," she purred as she reached between us to grab me.

Okay, so it was going to be a short shower.

I wrapped my lady in one of the huge towels Matt kept for the purpose. As I was drying her she kept up a running description of what she wanted to do with me and to me. A very inventive woman, my Beth.

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The sun was almost gone by the time we wandered into the kitchen to find some food.

"Tommy, were you serious about finding a place down here?"

"Oh, yeah. Wouldn't you like to be able to do this whenever we wanted to?"

"Mmm, I sure would, but where will we find a place?"

"Well, there's always the house up on the north shore," I kidded her.

"You mean the haunted one where Sue has set some of her books? No thanks!"

We decided on a couple of steaks and baked potatoes for dinner. I went out and lit the grill while Beth cleaned the spuds.

We sat at the picnic table watching the full moon reflecting off the water as we devoured our meal. Although this was our third trip to the islands there was still a surreal feeling knowing we were sixteen hundred miles from home, with water all around us and no responsibilities until school started in the Fall.

Beth moved over and snuggled up next to me. "Mmm, a perfect ending for a hectic day," she said, a lady-like burp punctuating her pleasure.

"So, do you think you'll be able to take being away from everybody and out of touch for the whole Summer?" I asked.

"Who says we'll be out of touch? Bob and Sue have satellite Internet service and Wi-Fi. Sue said we could connect any time we wanted to.

"Speaking of that, what are you going to do when somebody contacts you and wants some pictures?"

"Unless they want fish or mermaids, they're out of luck," I responded.

"You and your mermaids," she said, giving me a playful jab with her elbow. "Where are you going to find a mermaid? I mean a real mermaid?"

"I have no idea, but that's not going to keep me from looking," I said with a grin.

"Well, you have fun looking, and if you get lucky, say hello to Minnie for me," my lady said as she got up, stretched, and walked into the house.

Minnie? Whoinhell was Minnie?

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The next morning I woke up to that magical just-before-dawn twilight. I slipped out of bed, grabbed my fins, mask, and snorkel, and wandered down to the water. I waded in and swam parallel to the shore to some rocks that were just below the surface. As I floated there I was amazed again at how clear the water was. Snorkeling in the Caribbean was totally different from the lakes back home.

As I swam closer a bunch of small fish disappeared into their hidey-holes among the rocks. Maybe they thought I was a shark? I floated, realizing I had started humming the theme from Jaws. Suddenly being out in the water by myself didn't seem like a good idea. I swam to shore and walked back to the beach house just in time to see Beth stroll down to the water, her huge beach bag in hand. I noticed my lady had wasted no time going native, and looked forward to spreading SPF50 all over her.

"There you are! Trying to catch breakfast?"

"Just out for a quick dip. No fishing involved," I replied.

"Oh, I figured you were fishing since your bait is dangling. No nibbles?"

That's when I realized I'd gone from bed to water without pulling on a pair of trunks. Going native must be contagious, but the thought of getting nibbled had my "bait" doing a disappearing act.

Beth giggled when she saw my reaction. She took matters in hand and her bait restoration techniques proved as effective as always.

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I was drifting off in the warm Caribbean sun when I heard a ship's horn. I looked up and saw a boat on the horizon coming our way. I glanced down at my slumbering love and nudged Beth.

"Hey, better wake up. I think Bob and Sue are almost here."

"Um, okay," she said as she stretched.

"Are you going to meet them like that?"

She looked down, let out a little yelp, reached in her beach bag and pulled out a bikini. "How about you?" she asked as she slipped into the bottom of the microscopic suit.

Oh, shit! The Webbers were almost here and I was standing there in my birthday suit! What to do? I stepped behind Beth, using her as a shield while I looked around for something—anything!— to put on. I reached down for the towel we'd been lying on and wrapped it around my waist. It wasn't a long-term solution, but it was better than standing there in the altogether.

"Hi, guys!" Bob called out with a big grin as the Lady Suzanne reached our dock. "I hope we didn't interrupt anything!"

I walked down the dock, one hand on my towel, then had to switch hands to greet Bob. Sue hopped down next to her husband and gave me one of her special hugs. The combination of the hug, and my reaction to it, almost dislodged the towel—hugging Sue was definitely a two-handed operation.

"It looks like somebody's adapted pretty well to the local conditions," Sue said after greeting Beth with a hug. "There's something special about snoozing on the beach, isn't there?" Her ear-to-ear grin told me we hadn't moved quite quickly enough getting ready for our guests.

"Um, if you'll excuse me for a minute, I'm going to run up and change," I said with as much dignity as I could muster.

"Oh, don't bother," Sue snickered. "You're dressed appropriately for a day on the boat."

"Ah, yeah, but the towel's full of sand and I don't want to scratch the woodwork of this beautiful vessel," I said, pointing to their beautifully restored Chris-Craft.

Bob broke out in a full-throated laugh. "I'm sure it's the boat's woodwork you're worried about!" His double entendre had me rivaling the tropical sun as I made a quick retreat for the house, swearing the whole way that I would NEVER forget my trunks again! It was just too easy down here to skip little things like that.

Bob followed me up. "Tommy, you brought your laptop, didn't you?"

"Yeah, we both did. Beth mentioned you were willing to share your wireless connection."

"Sure. Why don't we set you up now, then you can use it whenever you want."

"Will it reach over here?"

"Oh, I don't think that'll be a problem. A friend of mine got me a special hotspot router that might be a little higher-powered than is strictly legal."

We spent a couple of minutes getting my laptop to connect and I wrote down the instructions for Beth before we walked back to the Lady Suzanne.

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"Bob, I can't get over what a beauty you've got here," I told our host as we loafed along between islands.

"Yes, I do, and thank you again for the pictures reminding me of how special she is."

"It must have been a real labor of love to get her back into such beautiful condition."

The dead silence next to me had me looking over at him. He was giving me the strangest look. It was interesting to see his expression change. "Tommy, what did you mean?"

"I was talking about the beautiful job the restoration company did on the Lady Susanne. Why?"

Bob started chuckling, "I was talking about the other Susanne and those pictures you did last year!"

"Oops." I glanced to where our ladies were sunning themselves on the foredeck. It was easy to see why Bob was thinking of his wife.

"Seriously, I really appreciate the pictures you did, especially the special one. As I said in my e-mail, it's easy to start taking someone close to you for granted. It took seeing her through another pair of eyes to remind me of what I'd been overlooking. But I'm glad you like my other lady, too," he ended with a laugh.

His "other lady" had carried us to a deserted shore on a small cay surrounded by acres of colorful coral. Bob carefully dropped anchor and immediately jumped in the crystal-clear water, floating lazily on his back. Sue went below and appeared a few seconds later in a different bikini.

"Um, Sue, why the change?" I asked.

"This one's for swimming!" she answered as she executed a perfect swan dive and paddled next to her husband.

"So, do you have to change, too?" I asked.

"Oh, that's okay, I'm just going to laze around up here."

"Beth, c'mon, you can't stay up here! Look at that beautiful water, let's get wet."

"No, Tommy. I'm just going to stay here."

What was going on here? "Beth, you can't just stay here while everybody else is swimming. Am I going to have to toss you in?" I said as I moved in.

"TOMMY! NO!" I was going to grab her anyway until I saw the look of absolute terror on her face.

"Beth, what's wrong?"

"I-I can't swim," she said with an absolutely mortified look.

"Can't swim? Come on, who are you trying to kid? I've seen you in the water. I know you can swim."

"But, Tommy, I can't. Oh, I can wade around if the water's not too deep, but I'm scared when it gets close to being over my head."

I thought back to our other trips down here and our times in the pond at the farm. She was right, I'd never seen her in deep water.

"Well, what should we do about that?" I asked.

"Oh, just go join Bob and Sue. I'll be okay here by myself. Really."

Why is it when somebody says "really" they mean "No, it won't be!"?

"No, I'll stay here with you."

"Tommy! No, just go, I'll be alright."

"Beth, I can swim any time. I'll stay here with you."

"Hey, you guys! Time to get wet ... unless you already are!" Sue has a delightfully low sense of humor.

"Give us a minute," I yelled back.

"Only a minute? I expected more from you, Tommy!"

"Tommy, go already. I'll be okay."

Think, Tommy, think. There had to be some way to get Beth off the boat.

"Do you trust me?"

"You've asked me that before."

"And have I ever let you down?"

" ... N-no, but I'm scared." I could feel her quivering as I held her.

"Maybe you should go down in the cabin and ask the girl in the mirror."

"Oh, she's probably as bad as her cousin back home, always getting me to do things I don't want to."

"And have either of us ever steered you wrong?" I kidded her.

"Tommy, I never told you this, but she's the one who talked me into going to the coffee shop that first Friday night."

"That turned out okay, didn't it?" She just nodded.

"Beth, I'll go down the ladder first, all you have to do is follow me and I'll hold you up while you float—everybody can float. Then I'll pull you into the shallows."

"Yeah, but what will Bob and Sue think?"

"Just tell them you wanted to try out something from a copy of the Aquatic Kama Sutra you found."

"Tommy!" I got an elbow, but at least she was grinning now.

I backed down the ladder off the stern of the Lady Suzanne and waited for my lady to join me. I was looking up as Beth backed down the ladder. Her bikini wasn't a thong, but it was close. I was tempted to nip at a cheek as she got to the bottom of the ladder, but was afraid that would send her right back up again.

Once Beth was in the water I had her float on her back. I talked her into releasing the ladder and, supporting her back, used the other hand to paddle us into the shallows.

"Beth, is something wrong?" Sue asked.

"N-no, it's just that I can't swim. I never learned how."

"Oh, well, that's easy to fix. We've got all day and Bob used to be a life guard and swimming instructor."

"Beth, do you want me to teach you?" he asked.

She looked at me almost as if she was hoping I'd object. I just nodded. If we actually ended up with a place down here she was going to miss a lot if she didn't learn.

"O-okay, Bob. I'm so embarrassed. It's just that I never took the time when I was a kid. There were always more interesting things to do and now I feel silly."

"Beth, don't be embarrassed. I didn't know how either and I can attest to what a great teacher Bob is." She looked at her husband with a special little grin.

With a sigh, Beth looked at Bob. "Well, I guess better late than never."

"Great! Okay, first, remember the human body is naturally buoyant..."

As Bob led Beth out into the water, Sue and I walked up to the beach and sat down to watch the fun.

"Tommy, you guys really like it down here, don't you?"

"Yeah, we do. Some day we'd like to have a place around here. I suggested the abandoned house on the north shore, but Beth gets the shivers just thinking about it, so I guess we'll just have to keep looking and dreaming."

Sue just chuckled. "I'll warn you, it gets contagious, living down here. I shudder every time I think about moving back up north."

"You're not planning on moving are you?"

"Oh, not now, but some day we may have to. You never know. But for now we just love it down here. It's lucky we can write anywhere. The only drawback is having to be in New York in the middle of winter to see our editors and publishers. Sometimes I think they schedule things in January just to spite us!"

We continued our conversation as we watched Bob try to convince Beth she wasn't going to sink as soon as he pulled his hands out from under her.

After an hour or so teacher and student swam—SWAM!—to shore and joined us on the sand.

"So how'd it go?" Sue asked.

"Just fine. Beth's a quick learner."

"No, it's just that I had a good instructor," my lady replied. "I think I've got at least the basics down. Now just to practice."

"Well," Bob replied, "you'll have plenty of opportunities if you're going to spend the whole summer down here."

"Hey! You're right, I will!" Beth wasn't quite bouncing from foot to foot like a little kid at Christmas.

"So what do we do now?" I asked as I stretched out on the sand.

"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm tired," my lady said as she plopped down next to me. "I'm all for a nap."

"Hmm," Sue got a glint in her eye. "A 'nap' sounds good. C'mon, Bob, lets find a good spot."

"What's wrong with ... Oh, yeah. We'll be back later," he said as Sue pulled him down the beach.

"So did you enjoy your lesson?"

"Yeah, Bob's a natural instructor and I think with a little practice and a good coach, I won't have any more problems getting in the water.

"Would you be my coach?" she asked in her little girl voice. The one she knows I can't resist.

"We'll have to work out some kind of a deal. I'm a very expensive coach, you know," I replied as I moved closer and ran my fingers up her side.

"Oh, yeah, I know how expensive you can get," she purred as she rolled on top of me.

It didn't take too long to figure out which strings to pull and soon Beth was kneeling over me, her slow rise and fall almost synchronized with the waves lapping at our feet.

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We went back in the water to clean up and wash the sand off and had just gotten our suits back on when Bob and Sue came walking down the beach, hand-in-hand like a couple of kids.

"So is anybody else hungry?" Sue asked. "I'm starving! Let's eat!" I saw Bob bite back a comment and had to grin.

"Tommy, will you stay with me while we swim back? I think I can make it, but..."

"Don't worry, I'll be there," I answered as we followed our hosts into the water.

"Do you want me to hold you like before?"

"No, let me try on my own. Just stay close ... please?"

"You know I'll always stay close to you," I whispered in her ear.

Beth surprised me. She struck out and swam the whole distance to the boat by herself. Her style needed some work, but she made it! This time I did nip at her cheeks as she climbed the ladder.

Back on the Lady Suzanne we slipped t-shirts and shorts over our suits and scrounged for lunch.

"Hamburgers okay?" Bob asked.

"Sure! Sounds good!" Sue and Beth answered. "Of course, that means you guy-types will have to cook," Sue added.

Bob lit the grill at the stern of the boat and waited until Beth brought up the burgers and a couple of beers. We put the meat on the grill and sat down on the rear cushions as the patties sizzled.

"Not a bad way to spend a day, is it?" Bob said.

"It sure beats working. Speaking of that, how do you get anything done, living down here? I mean, I'd find it real hard to do anything useful with all the temptations to goof off around here."

"It does take some self-control, I'll admit. Sue usually puts in several hours each morning. I tend to spend a couple of hours in the morning just scribbling ideas and updating my outlines, then a few more hours at night actually writing.

"Well, except when a good excuse comes along. You know, like playing tour guide to friends."

Oh, sure, make me feel guilty.

The girls came up with the rest of the food just as Bob was flipping the burgers over. "Not too long now!"

After we ate the girls stripped down to their bikinis and stretched out on the foredeck again.

"So, have you taken any good pictures yet?" Bob asked as he piloted us back home.

"Not yet. I really hope my new waterproof housing lets me get some good underwater shots.

"By the way, when I mentioned I wanted some pictures of mermaids Beth told me to say hello to Minnie. Do you have any idea who Minnie is?"

Bob just laughed and started singing.

Oh, what a time I had with Minnie the Mermaid, 
Down at the bottom of the sea.
Down amongst the corals where she lost her morals, 
My, but she was good to me.
Oh, what a time I had with Minnie the Mermaid
Down in her seaweed bungalow.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust;
Two twin beds and only one of them mussed.
Oh, what a gal was my Minnie the Mermaid, 
Down at the bottom of the sea.

"So that's what she meant," I said when Bob finished.

"Yeah. Not exactly Hans Christian Andersen is it?"

"Nope." I grinned. "I wonder how Beth knew about Minnie?"

"Let's find out," Bob said.

"Hey, Beth," he shouted forward. "How did you know about Minnie the Mermaid?"

She just laughed. "My dad has an album with Minnie on it. I think he got it from Grandpa Hank and I used to listen to it when I was little. I thought it was just a funny song until I got old enough to understand it."

"Well, Tommy, if you get a picture of her can I get a copy?" Bob asked.

"As long as a picture is ALL he gets!" Beth warned with a fake scowl.

We got back to the island just before sunset. Bob and Sue dropped us off after we made arrangements to get together Saturday night. "There's a great band playing at one of the local clubs. Let's make a night of it," Sue suggested.

"What should I wear?" Beth asked. She and Sue discussed clothes for a couple of minutes. Long enough that I wasn't surprised when Beth asked if we could do some shopping the next day. Shopping didn't exactly trip my trigger, but as an excuse to get Matt's Helm out on the water it would work.

The next morning, or was it afternoon?—down here, who cares!—we sailed to a neighboring island. Sue had mentioned a couple of shops and Beth had that "Visa beware" look in her eye.

"Tommy, you've got to get something for Saturday. You can't show up in shorts and a t-shirt."

Sigh.

I ended up buying a guayabera shirt and a pair of white slacks.

"Now, a pair of shoes and you'll be all set!"

Shoes? What were they? I guess dancing—even the shuffling I did—wouldn't be easy in flip-flops.

A pair of loafers later and we were done. Well, except for food. Bob had mentioned an out-of-the way little place. The kind populated by locals, not tourists.

"I'm going to get a margarita and a Crab Louis salad," I said as we were seated at a table on a deck built out over the water.

"Tommy, they're not going to serve you a drink. We're not old enough."

"Down here we are. The drinking age is eighteen."

"It is? Well, then I guess I'll get the same thing! The salad, too."

Our drinks were delivered—with no request for IDs—while they prepared our salads.

"Mmm, these are good!" Beth said, trying a second sip, then a big gulp.

"Hey, watch that. I'm gonna feel pretty dumb if I have to carry you back to the boat."

"Killjoy," she said with a grin as she took another taste.

When our food arrived it was obvious that we could have ordered one salad and split it.

"Tommy, I'm never going to be able to finish this!" Beth wailed as she looked at the big plate full of lettuce, crab meat, hard-boiled eggs, and all the other fixin's.

"I thought shopping made you hungry?" I kidded her.

"Yeah, but look at this thing. I'm going to need another of these!" she said, holding up her empty glass.

As we worked through our food—and the margaritas—we talked about plans for the rest of the day.

"So are we done shopping now?" First things first.

"Yeah, I think sho, er, so."

Once we'd finished our salads—and Beth's third 'rita—we stood up ... or I stood up. Beth seemed to have a problem with her balance. I grabbed our packages and helped her out of her chair. I didn't have to carry her back to the boat ... quite. Obviously three margaritas was at least one over her limit. I was feeling a little self-righteous—I'd only had one. There was no way I was going to take a chance with Matt's expensive baby trying to sail her while under the influence.

As soon as we got back to the boat Beth collapsed on one of the berths and started snoring. I'd never seen her like that before and I didn't know whether to be amused or frightened. In our relationship she always seemed to be so level-headed and responsible and here she was, passed out, while I was the sober one. Just to be on the safe side I moved a wastebasket next to the berth. I'd never been drunk enough to blow chunks, but I remembered the horror stories from some of my friends.

Once we were out of the harbor I checked on my snoring lady and stepped up into the pilot house, pulled open a padded drawer in the console, and removed the beautiful brass contraption that had fascinated me the first time I saw it.

I'd found the sextant on our last trip and when we got home I'd picked up a book on navigation that described how to use it. Now to see if I could actually figure out where we were. Modern navigational tools were making things like this beautiful hunk of machinery almost obsolete; I just wanted to see if I could use it.

After taking a shot of the sun I ran into a problem—no watch! I went back in the pilot house and checked the chronometer mounted near the inside helm. Now that I had the sun angle and time all I had to do was figure out what to do with them. Several minutes of furious scribbling and checking tables convinced me I had little future as a navigator—we were either somewhere in the western Atlantic or on dry land in the middle of India. It was a good thing Matt had equipped his boat with all the necessary electronics to help keep me from getting lost!

Maybe I should have paid more attention in trig class?

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When we got back home I managed to get my lady up and moving. I'd have to come back down and clean out the wastebasket later. Ugh.

"Oh, Tommy, I'm gonna be sick!" Beth said as she leaned over the side and proved it. I got her up to the house where she crashed on the bed and promptly started snoring again.

With a sigh I changed into a pair of trunks and walked back down the dock. I dumped the wastebasket, washed it out, then scrubbed down the side of Matt's Helm. Somebody was going to owe me big time for this.

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I was sitting at the kitchen table, Kindle in hand, reading, when I heard movement behind me. I turned and saw a very sad-looking Beth stagger out of the bedroom.

"Oh, Tommy. Why'd you let me do that?" she moaned.

"Do what? Over-estimate your capacity for alcohol?"

"Ohhh ... Don't ever let me do that. I'm never going to drink again!" We'd see about that. Trying to tell Beth not to do something was to ignore King Canute's advice on trying to hold back the tide.

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The next morning my lady was back to her old self. She jumped out of bed, grabbed her bag of goodies and headed for the beach. By the time I followed her—remembering to bring a suit with me this time—she was already wading in the water.

"Tommy, let's go swimming!"

"Okay, let me get my trunks on first."

"Aw, you're not going to go trolling?" she giggled.

"Nope. I've already caught what I was looking for." That earned me a kiss that had me grinning for most of the day.

"Do you want to just swim or should I show you how to use a mask and snorkel too?" Matt had several sets he kept for guests and I'd grabbed some on the off chance Beth might be adventuresome.

"Um ... let me get some practice in just swimming, then I'll try the fancy stuff."

I'll say one thing for Beth—she's a quick study. It wasn't too long until she was swimming around our beach area as if she'd been born in the water.

"Tommy, can I try the mask now?"

"Do you want the snorkel and fins too?"

"Oh, why not!"

I showed her how to adjust the mask and made sure the fins fit her. I'd lost a fin snorkeling in a lake back home and didn't want to have to replace one of Matt's.

We swam out to the rocks I'd found our first day here. Beth took to the snorkel with a vengeance—until she tried to dive down to get a closer look at the rocks and forgot that doing that put the tip of the snorkel under water. She didn't panic when she got a mouthful of water, but quickly came back to the surface and spent the next few seconds coughing up the seawater she'd inhaled.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She nodded as she continued coughing. Eventually she got her voice back. "Damn, that was a dumb move, wasn't it?"

"Don't feel bad, it's something almost everybody's done at least once."

We spent the rest of the morning paddling around in our own little world. Now all we needed was a book of verse and a jug of wine to be in paradise.

Would a Kindle and a couple of Cokes work as substitutes?

We finally stumbled up to the house for lunch and decided to spend the afternoon on the water instead of in it.

As soon as we were underway, Beth pulled off her t-shirt and shorts and showed me the new bikini she'd bought. I wasn't going to ask how much it cost but I was willing to bet that on a per-yard-of-fabric basis it had to be one of the most expensive things she owned.

"So can you swim in that or is it just for show?"

"Well, it's really made for tanning—like the one Sue wore the other day. The material allows the sunlight through so I'll get an even tan."

"So you won't have to take anything off to tan anymore?" I wasn't sure I liked the idea, even though her suit didn't leave much to the imagination.

"Oh, poor Tommy," Beth said with a grin.

"So where should we go?" I asked.

"I've heard Aruba's nice."

"It's also probably a thousand miles away. Maybe someplace a little closer? After all we've got to be back by Saturday."

"I can go right down to the end of the town and be back in time for tea," Beth sing-songed.

"Okay, tea it is," I said as I aimed toward one of the islands that had a nice little tea shop we'd found on our first trip down here.

-------

We sailed back to the house before dark and had just tied up when two kids, a boy and a girl, walked down the dock.

"That sure is a nice boat," the boy said. He and his companion were maybe eight or nine. He was dressed like I was—shorts and a t-shirt. The young girl with him, however, was wearing an outfit that included a long skirt, a big, floppy hat, and even shoes! Not flip-flops, but real shoes.

"Yes, it is, a very nice boat, I'd love to have one like it some day. My name's Tommy, and this is Beth," I said as my lady came up on deck.

"Hi, my name is Jim Swanson, we have the house on the west side of the island, and this is Cecily Fitzhugh."

"Hello. Are you a naturist?" The young girl asked Beth.

"Huh? I mean, why do you ask?"

"Well ... I thought only naturists went in the water without a bathing costume."

I almost laughed at the expression on my lady's face—panic, followed by relief when she glanced down and saw she WAS wearing her bikini.

"Oh, this. It's just a swim suit."

"B-but where's the rest of it?" Cecily asked. "My mother would never let me go bathing in something like that!"

"Cecily, are you staying with Jim's family?" I asked, puzzled by the young girl's reaction to Beth's bikini. Was her family a bunch of religious nuts?

"No, my parents own the house up there." She pointed to the north end of the island.

"I thought that place was abandoned."

"Abandoned? Oh, no. Our family spends every Summer here. Ever since my grandfather built it."

"Who is your grandfather?" Beth asked.

"William Montgomery Fitzhugh. My father is Christopher Fitzhugh. You must be visitors not to know that."

Before Beth could answer, we heard a voice shouting, "JIMMY, where are you? It's time to eat!"

"Uh-oh, that's my mother. I've got to go!"

"I should go also," Cecily said. "Perhaps we will see each other again." Before either of us could say anything, both kids disappeared up the path that connected all of the island's houses—including the 'abandoned' one.

Beth and I looked at each other. What was going on here?

"Tommy, what did she mean by that? She seemed to think everyone on the island would know her family, but Bob and Sue said nobody knew who owned that place or the last time anybody was there."

"I don't know. I mean, how could she live in an abandoned house? And what was with that outfit she was wearing?"

Beth just shook her head as we walked toward the house.

-------

For the first time since we left home I decided to indulge in a bad habit and check my e-mail. I logged in and saw the usual junk with a few gems scattered here and there. I started by deleting the obvious spam and moved on to the important stuff. Buried in the week's-worth of messages was one from Joe at the camera shop. The subject was Review. I opened the message.

-------

TOMMY,

YOU'RE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THE REVIEW! CHECK IT OUT!

JOE

-------

He'd included a URL for the magazine. I clicked on it and started reading:

As you can imagine, we get a lot of products to review, some from major manufacturers and some from small, specialty companies. The three devices from Photomongery fit firmly in the second category, and once again demonstrate that a small company can produce excellent products. None of their ideas are new but the quality of the design and construction would make any of them a welcome addition to most gadget bags.

The tripod extension arm is a well thought-out piece for any photographer who needs a sturdy mount, especially for macro work. The arm is well built and easily adjustable (see Figure 1). The unit locks at any height and offers a stable platform for any but the heaviest of still or video cameras. The addition of the optional universal mount allows the arm to be fastened to almost any surface you can reach around, be it a tree, a lamp post or railing (Figures 2-5). Remove the tripod mount from the side of the arm and the Velcro straps will attach it to anything up to four feet in diameter.

The swivel head is something we've all seen before, but, while Photomongery's design is nothing new, the construction puts it above many similar units on the market. The head moves smoothly and, when locked, is rock-solid.

If you're into gadgetry—and what photographer isn't—check out their gear at www.photomongery.com. You won't regret it.

-------

I was sitting there re-reading the review when Beth walked in.

"Anything interesting?" she asked. I just pointed to my screen, unwilling to speak, afraid it would all turn out to be a dream.

As she read over my shoulder I could feel her excitement build and I could tell when she got to the end.

"Tommy! They liked it!" And suddenly I had a squirming girl on my lap trying to devour me.

Once I got her settled down I had a chance to read the rest of my mail—nothing special. Although after that review I was going to have to revise my idea of what constituted "special."

When I was done Beth gave me a hip-shot that left me standing and her sitting in front of my laptop.

"What did you think of Cecily's story?" Beth mused. "I mean, how could they be living in that wreck of a house? And what was with her clothes? Have you ever seen anything like what she was wearing?"

"Only in old pictures," I responded. "Maybe her family is a bunch of religious wackos?"

"I'm going to see what I can find out about the Fitzhugh family." She did a search and found a number of hits for a William Montgomery Fitzhugh from New York City.

"This must be the family, it says William had a son, Christopher, but the dates don't make any sense." She continued her search.

"Tommy, look at this," she said quietly, pointing with a shaky finger to a New York newspaper article from April 15, 1912. "It says noted industrialist Christopher William Fitzhugh, his wife, Caroline, and their eight-year-old daughter Cecily were lost on the Titanic!"



-------

Chapter 2


I could see Beth was working herself up to do something she really didn't want to.

"Tommy, will you take me up to that house?"

"The one on the north end of the island?" I watched as she nodded and saw she was gnawing on her bottom lip—a sure sign she really didn't want to do it.

"How about tomorrow? It's getting kind of late." I looked out the window and saw the sun nearing the horizon. "Unless you really want to do it tonight."

I saw her shudder as she shook her head. "No, let's wait, but I want to see if there's anything to what Cecily said."

"You don't really think that was Cecily Fitzhugh ... do you?"

"Tommy, I don't believe in ghosts!" Oh, really? I thought.

The next morning was a perfect day to prowl around an abandoned—and possibly haunted—building: cloudy and windy, with rain threatening.

I had pulled one of the ATVs out of the garage and grinned when Beth got on behind me. From the way she wrapped her arms around me, trying to squeeze me in half, I could tell her courage was slipping.

We'd just started up the path when we saw one of the young kids from yesterday walking toward us.

"Hi, Jimmy." I saw the twinge of irritation on the young boy's face when I said that and remembered his sigh of exasperation when his mother called him yesterday. "Excuse me, Jim. How are you this morning?"

"Oh, okay, I guess.

"Can I ask you a question? Why do people call you Tommy?"

"Because that's my name," I replied.

"Yeah, but you're a grownup. Shouldn't they call you Tom 0r Thomas? I hate it when people call me Jimmy. I'm not a little kid anymore!"

"Hmmm ... I guess everybody's always called me Tommy and I'm just used to it. But I can see how it can bug you. It's tough when people don't realize you've grown up, isn't it?"

"Yeah," the eight year old replied.

"There's one advantage of being called Tommy: when somebody uses my real name I know I'm in trouble and if they use all three of them, I'm really in trouble."

"Does your mother do that a lot?"

I just chuckled. "No, she's pretty much turned that job over to this beautiful lady here."

Damned elbow! Jim just giggled.

"Have you seen Cecily this morning?" Leave it to my lady to come right to the point when something was on her mind

"No ... I walked up to the house and it didn't look like anybody was there. I can't figure out how she could live there—it's a dump!"

"How long have you known her?"

"Just since yesterday. I was just walkin' around and she was sittin' on a rock by the path and we just started talkin'."

"So you'd never seen her before?"

"Nope. I dunno what's goin' on. What do you think? I mean where'd she get those weird clothes, and she just seems ... I dunno, different."

"Jim, I really don't know. Did she say anything about how long she'd been down here or where she lives when they're not here?" I could hear the frustration in Beth's voice.

He just shook his head. "Are you going up there?" he asked.

"Yeah, I want to see what it looks like," Beth replied.

"Are you going to go inside?" When Beth nodded I saw him shiver. "You've got more guts than I do. I'm never goin' near that place again!"

As Jim walked off Beth and I looked at each other.

"You still want to go up there?" I asked her.

"Yes I do. Tommy, I'm going to be an engineer. Engineers are rational people, we don't believe in stuff like ghosts!"

-------

As we got closer to the old house Beth's grip started to tighten again. I stopped the ATV outside the gate and looked at the house. What had been a beautiful Victorian was now a ruin. Time and the salt air had reduced it to a shadow of what must have been a beautiful home ... a hundred years before.

As we stood just outside the gate I glanced at Beth. Her bottom lip wasn't long for this world if she kept gnawing it.

"Are you ready for this?" I asked.

"No, but let's do it anyway. Tommy, if I don't look it'll always bother me."

The gate was hanging from one hinge. I lifted it and pulled it open. The rusted metal squealed like a lost soul. I heard Beth take a deep breath. As she started up the overgrown path to the front door the brambles tugged at her jeans as if to stop her.

Half the steps to the porch were gone, the other half mostly rotted through. As we picked our way to the front door I could only think of the old horror movies we'd watched together, and started to think maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

The front door was unlocked and opened with another lost-soul squeal. Just past the entry hall was a large room—a room with wallpaper hanging down, draping the furniture against the walls. The floor, and what must have been an oriental rug, was littered with big chunks of plaster from the ceiling. As we stood there, wondering if the floor would hold us, or dump us through into who-knew what, it was obvious that nobody was living in the house and hadn't for years. Ever since 1912, maybe?

"Tommy, nobody lives here," Beth whispered as she looked around, almost as if she was expecting to see a young girl beckoning to us.

"So do you want to look around some more?"

"Well..."

Physicists say teleportation is probably impossible. I know better—one second Beth was standing next to me and the next, without so much as a yelp or the pop of displaced air, she wasn't.

I'd been looking the other way when she did her disappearing act. Out of the corner of my eye I'd seen a bird—a pigeon or a gull, I didn't know which—fly across the room and suddenly I was in the house by myself.

I looked out the door and saw my lady standing on the far side of the ATV, looking like she'd seen one of the ghosts she didn't believe in. Obviously our exploring trip was over. I wasn't spooked like my lady, but, being the gentleman I was, I didn't want to leave her out there by herself, so I backed out and carefully closed the door. Why? I don't know. Maybe to put a barrier between us and whatever might have been inside? I walked back down the path and through the gate. I didn't bother trying to close the gate.

"Are you okay?" I asked Beth as she wrapped her arms around me.

"T-Tommy, what was that?"

"Just a bird. It must have gotten in through a broken window or something."

"Oh, God, I've never been so scared." She must have been. I'd never felt her shaking like she was at that moment.

"Okay, repeat after me, 'I do believe in spooks, I do believe in spooks. I do, I do, I do.'"

"Dammit, Tommy, that's not funny!" she said as she beat her fists against my chest, tears running down her face. "Just leave me alone!" With that, she pulled away from me and ran back down the path.

So much for trying to lighten the mood.

I was ready to hop on the ATV and follow her, but I'd learned there were times it was just better to leave things alone. I'd learned the hard way that sometimes apologies didn't help but time would. I sat on the machine and stared at the house. What was its secret? Had it belonged to the Fitzhugh family, and why didn't anybody know the story? Eventually, I gave up trying to put my finger on just what it was about the place that made it so spooky. I'd seen abandoned houses before, but there was just something about this one...

With a sigh, I started the ATV and slowly drove back to the beach house. When I got there I saw no sign of my lady. I put the machine in the garage, walked down to the beach, and just stared out at the water. Had I seriously fucked up ... again?

-------

Some uncounted number of eons later I felt a pair of arms wrap around me.

"Tommy, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you. It's just that this whole thing has me spooked. I mean, engineers are supposed to be rational people, not the kind that believe in things like ghosts. God, next I'll be consulting a Ouija board!"

I turned around so I could embrace her. "Beth, just because something can't be explained rationally doesn't mean you're crazy."

"I know, it's just that things like that scare me. The world's supposed to be a sane, rational place!"

It is? When did that happen?

"Beth, if the world was as sane and rational as you'd like would we be together like this? I mean the quiet, rich girl and the theatre geek? Just accept that there are some things that can't be explained by your philosophy, Horatio."

That got a giggle out of my lady. "Oh, I guess you're right. It's just that..."

I put a finger over her lips. "Remember, we're supposed to be on vacation? Just forget you're a rational going-to-be-engineer and I'll stop misquoting Shakespeare. Deal?"

That got me a nod and a kiss.

When we went to bed that night Beth cuddled back against me and pulled my arm around her. My hand found its favorite resting place cradling her breast. "Tommy, promise to keep me from going nuts about this. Please?"

I promised and kissed the back of her neck, then held her until she relaxed in sleep. Now if I could only figure out who—or what—Cicely Fitzhugh really was.

-------

Late Saturday afternoon we were waiting on the dock as Bob nudged the buffers of the Lady Suzanne to within an inch of the dock.

"You guys ready to party?" Bob asked as we boarded.

"You bet!" replied Bath as she spun around in her brand new bright yellow sundress. Her twirl caused the dress's short skirt to whirl out and showed that she was color-coordinated right down to her panties.

Bob just looked at me and winked.

Sue came out of the cabin wearing what looked to my eye to be an identical dress, except in pink. I didn't check her panties.

Sue grabbed my lady's hand and they disappeared into the cabin as Bob pulled away from the dock and pointed the Chris-Craft's bow toward open water.

We were seated as soon as we got to the club—there are definite advantages to being with well-established locals.

When our server asked what we'd like to drink both Beth and I asked for Cokes, which got us a funny look from Sue. "What's with you guys? I mean, this is supposed to be a fun night and you guys order Cokes?"

Beth looked as if she wanted to sink through the floor. "Well ... um ... you see ... well, I'm not going to drink any more. Last time I kind of ... er..." She ran down.

"Oh," replied Sue with a knowing grin. "Like that, huh?"

Beth just examined her tightly knotted fingers and nodded.

"Hey, that's happened to all of us at one time or another," Bob said. "You just have to learn your limits."

"Nope, I'm never going to drink again!"

"Never?" Bob looked at her incredulously.

"Nope, never," she replied with a firm shake of her head.

Bob and Sue just exchanged grins.

After we looked through the menu and ordered I couldn't stand it any more.

"Have you guys ever heard of a Fitzhugh family from around here? Either William or Christopher?"

"No, the name doesn't ring any bells," Bob said as he cocked an eyebrow at his wife. "How about you?"

"No. Why?" she said, turning to me.

We told them about meeting Cicely and our adventure at the house.

"And you think this Cicely is, what, a ghost?" Bob was wearing a skeptical look, almost as if he was waiting for the punch-line of a shaggy dog story.

"I don't know what to think," I said.

Sue looked at Beth. "And how about you?"

My lady looked miserable. "I don't know what to think any more either! I don't care what Tommy says, I DON'T believe in spooks, I don't, I don't, I don't!"

It was at that moment that our server walked over and, unannounced, set Beth's plate in front of her. Unfortunately, Bob was just taking a sip of his drink when Beth let out a yelp of surprise, levitated out of her chair and just missed turning a tray full of food into a UFO.

So there we were—Bob's drink sprayed all over the table, Beth standing there with a look that was a combination of surprise and humiliation with maybe a bit of fear tossed in, leaving Sue and me trying not to look at each other, sure that we would break up in the face of unbelievable temptation if we made eye contact. Oh, and a server who obviously came from a long line of circus jugglers.

The manager was right there ready to tear our server a new one until Bob assured him it wasn't the girl's fault. Since the place was only half full moving us to another table wasn't a problem.

Re-seated and re-provisioned, we all had a good laugh over what had happened. Even Beth chuckled about her reaction as she destroyed her lobster.

"Tommy, you said Jimmy was the boy from the place west of you? I know that family has a lot of kids. Is it possible it was one of his sisters pulling your leg? I know most of his sisters are younger, but he does have one who's older."

"I don't know ... If they were playing with us they sure did a good job of it."

After our meal we moved to the ballroom where I was pleasantly surprised to find a fifteen piece orchestra—and not a steel drum in sight!

I was enjoying shuffling around the floor with my lady in my arms when I got tapped on the shoulder. I turned around and saw Bob wearing a big grin. I took the hint—and his wife—and noticed how well Sue fit in my arms. The orchestra started an old Big Band song, Moonlight Serenade—one of my parents' favorites. I don't know if Sue and Bob had taken dancing lessons, but she was able to make even me look good on the floor.

Just as I was feeling a little confident the music changed. I recognized the music as swing but had no idea what to do about it, especially when Sue grabbed my hand and started dancing around me while I stood there like a wooden cigar store Indian without the foggiest idea what I should be doing. I glanced over at Bob and Beth and saw my lady flying all over the place on the end of Bob's arm, flashing her yellow panties at the whole room with every twirl.

Eventually Sue took pity on me and we made our way back to our table. I looked back to see how Beth was doing and couldn't believe what I was seeing: Bob had her swung out, with her feet off the ground. He followed that up by pulling her back in, then sliding her between his legs, then back out and onto her feet.

When the number ended Bob brought my lady back to me with her eyes alight and an ear-to-ear grin.

"Oh, Tommy! That was so much fun! What was that last song?"

"Stompin' At The Savoy," Sue answered. "Tommy, you didn't look too bad out there, you've just got to loosen up a bit."

"Sue, I didn't have any idea what I was supposed to be doing!"

She looked at me with that look usually reserved for mothers who want to get a point across.

I got the hint. "I guess we'll be taking some dance lessons when we get home," I sighed.

Bob looked across the table at me and threw me a conversational life line. "So, Tommy, how is your underwater photography coming?"

"So far, so good. The waterproof housing is perfect, not a leak in sight. I thought I could do a lot more just snorkeling, but I think I'm going to have to invest in some scuba lessons before our next trip. If there will be a next trip." I didn't want to assume Matt would invite us to use the beach house again.

Sue just chuckled, "Oh, I don't think you've got anything to worry about. Matt seems to have taken quite a liking to you two." She glanced at her husband. "Up for some more instructing?" When Bob just nodded, she looked at me.

"Tommy, you're in luck. Not only is Bob a swimming instructor but he's also a PADI instructor."

"Paddy? What's that?"

"P.A.D.I. Professional Association of Diving Instructors. Bob's a qualified scuba instructor!"

I just sat there wondering if there was anything he couldn't do.

"Um ... Gee, that'd be great, Bob. Will I have to rent some equipment, or just how does it work?"

"Tommy," Sue laughed, "Bob's got everything you'll need, he even has a compressor to refill the tanks!"

"Wow! That would be great. Um, how much do you charge for lessons?"

Bob got a hurt look on his face. "Tommy, I don't charge friends."

"Yeah, but..." That's when I got this sudden pain in my ankle and The Look from Beth. Then I remembered our discussions about accepting favors. "Bob that would be great!" We spent a few minutes figuring out a schedule that wouldn't take time away from his writing.

Sue looked at my lady. "Looks like we're going to have to find a way to kill some time Monday. How about a run into Nassau for some shopping?"

"Mmm, sounds like fun!"

A few more minutes of conversation and the orchestra was back for another set so I led Beth out on the floor.

"Were you serious about taking dance lessons?" she asked.

"Well, if we're going to dance at our wedding, I guess I'll have to."

"Oh, well ... about the wedding ... Tommy, I've changed my mind."

I felt a huge hand reach inside my chest and squeeze my heart.

Beth stopped dancing and looked at me then put her head on my shoulder and giggled.

"Oh, Tommy, you should see the look on your face! What did you think—that I decided I wasn't going to marry you?"

"I-I don't know what to think! I mean when you say something about changing your mind about the wedding it sounds like bad news."

"No. No bad news. It's just that instead of getting married at my folks' house like we talked about, I want an outdoor wedding, at the farm, so dancing would be a problem.

"That doesn't get you out of taking lessons, though."

At that point, I would have agreed to anything.

-------

Monday, Beth and I walked over to the Webbers. Bob and I helped the ladies untie the Lady Suzanne and watched as they sailed for Nassau and a day of raiding the local emporia. After they were on their way Bob turned to me and nodded at the case I had with me. "You brought your camera, didn't you, Tommy?"

"Um, yeah. I thought maybe..."

"Put it in the house. If I'm going to teach you to dive, I don't want you to have any distractions. Okay?"

"Um, I was just going to take some pictures in the boat."

"Tommy, I don't want you to be thinking of anything but diving."

"Are you sure?"

"Do you want to do this or not?"

"Oh, okay."

"Great. Now, let's get everything on board," Bob said as he led me to the boathouse. He loaded me down with tanks then had me drop them—gently!—in the twenty-foot runabout tied opposite where the Lady Suzanne usually moored.

"Must be nice to have two boats," I commented.

"Well, sometimes it's nice to have something just to run around in. Besides, it makes a good dive boat."

-------

Hours later we were back at the dock and I'd learned something about diving: I was going to need a lot more training and experience before I'd want to try any open-ocean solo dives!

I helped Bob drag the tanks back into the boathouse and connect the first one to the compressor.

We were just finishing up when Sue eased the Lady into her berth. As Bob and I tied up the cruiser, our ladies bounded down the ladder. Beth was wearing the bottom of one of her bikinis, covered by an almost-transparent knee-length jacket, shirt, whatever-it-was that did little to hide anything.

"Did you wear that while you were shopping?" I couldn't believe she'd wear something that revealing in public, but she'd surprised me several times since we'd met.

"Wouldn't you like to know!" she giggled when she saw my expression. "Don't worry, Tommy, I just put it on for the trip back here.

"So how did your lesson go?" she asked.

"Well, I didn't drown. So I guess it went okay."

"Did you take any pictures?"

"No, as a matter of fact remind me to grab the camera when we go."

"You didn't even take your camera with you?"

"Nope, Bob wouldn't let me."

"That's right," he said. "I know what Tommy's like with a camera in his hand and I wanted his full attention."

"Good!" my lady responded. "I want him around for a long time!"

We spent the next hour talking—I told Beth and Sue about my first scuba lesson and our ladies recounted their trip to Nassau. Eventually we said our good-byes and started back to Matt's.

I fell behind Beth as we walked up the trail leading back to the beach house.

"I know what you're thinking," she sing-songed with a giggle.

"What's that?" I don't do innocent very well.

"You're just practicing to be a dirty old man," she responded, giving her perfect butt an extra little twitch.

"Only in the face of undeniable temptation," I said as I ran my hand up under her cover-up.

"Tommy, you aren't thinking what I think you're thinking? Are you?"

"I don't think so. At least until we get back to the house. Then..."

Beth let out a giggle and sprinted ahead of me. Oh, ho. So she wanted to race, huh? As I followed her I saw her pull the ties on either side of her bikini bottom, pull it off, and wave it over her head like a victory flag—or a red flag in front of a bull. Watching her bare cheeks flash under her cover-up just made me redouble my effort. And the race was on!

I caught her just before we got to the house—actually, I think she let me catch her. I grabbed her, tossed her over my shoulder and almost dropped my camera case when she slid a hand inside the back of my suit. I turned my head and nipped at her cheek which had her squirming and forcing her hand further into my trunks until she had a firm grip on my left bun. It didn't take me too long to realize that every nibble was matched by a squeeze. Paging Doctor Pavlov...

Once in the door, I dropped my camera case, carried my lady into the bedroom, and flipped her onto the bed.

"Gee, mister, what are you going to do with that?" she said in her little-girl voice as she pointed to the front of my trunks.

"Ah, little girl, wouldn't you like to know," I responded, wishing I had a moustache to twirl.

"My mommy warned me about men like you."

"Oh, yeah? What did she say?"

"Always get the money up front," she responded with a giggle.

With a roar I grabbed her feet and started nibbling my way north. It didn't take too long for her giggles to turn to purrs, and the purrs to pleas just before I reached heaven.

I stopped my nibbles and reached up to slowly unbutton her top.

"Toommmyyyy! Hurry up!"

I stopped and looked at her. "I thought you always wanted me to take more time." With that, she got me in a scissors hold, her legs clamped around my waist and, in a move she must have seen on TV wrestling, had me on my back. "Now it's my turn," she said with a most wicked gleam in her eye as she slid her hand down to the waistband of my trunks.

I was about to lift my butt off the bed to make it easy for her to slip them off when she snickered and raked the back of her fingers down the front of my trunks, reversed direction and slid her hand up inside the right leg.

"Hey! Look at what I found! It feels like a handle. I wonder what happens if I pull it?"

It didn't take too long for her to find out.

"Eww, I think you made a mess."

"I made a mess? I think I had some help," I said as I pulled off my soggy trunks.

"You mean you don't do that by yourself?" The little-girl voice was back.

"Not since I met you," I grinned as I slid my hand up between her legs. "How about you? Had to change batteries lately?"

With a blush and a shake of her head, she pulled me down on top of her.

As I slipped into her she looked up at me. "Okay, what's with the grin? I mean besides the obvious reason," she said as she flexed those special muscles.

"Oh, I was just wondering what you would have done if we'd met Jim on the way back."

"Invited him to join us?" she grinned back at me.

-------

The next morning we walked over to the Swanson's house where we found Jim sitting on the front step carving a piece of driftwood.

"Hi, Jim, how are you doing?" I asked.

"Oh, pretty good." He looked like he wanted to ask us something.

After a few seconds trying to make up his mind, he cleared his throat. "Er ... have you seen Cecily since the other day?"

"No, we haven't. Have you?"

"No. Where could she be? I mean she can't be at the old house, can she?"

"Maybe she had to go home," Beth said.

"Yeah ... maybe. But where is that?" The young boy sounded disappointed and confused.

Time for the real reason we had walked over.

"Jim, you've got some sisters don't you?" I wanted to check on Bob's theory that the whole Cecily thing was a set-up.

"Yeah, there's Jill, Toni and Ruthie. They're all just little kids," said the eight-year-old with distain. "Then there's Barbra, she's twelve. She's a real pain ever since she started spending all her time thinking about boys. She's at some dumb camp this summer."

Well, so much for Bob's idea. So who was Cecily Fitzhugh, anyway?

We talked to the young boy for a few more minutes then walked back to the house.

"So what are we going to do now?" Beth asked.

"How about a swim?"

"Sounds good. Let me get ready," she said as she started to pull off her t-shirt and slide out of her shorts.

"I'll help!" I offered as I pulled her back to me and slid my hands up to her beautiful breasts.

"Didn't you get enough last night?" she asked in mock exasperation as she snuggled back into my arms.

Damn! This was turning out to be a GREAT summer!



-------

Chapter 3


The rest of the summer went by entirely too fast. We spent more time with the Webbers. Along with more scuba lessons for me and swimming lessons for Beth, I had a chance to sit with Bob and learn how an author did his thing. I didn't have any plans on being a writer, but it was interesting to see just what was involved in writing a book. I was surprised how much time Bob spent just in research. I'd always thought all an author needed was a fertile imagination and a word processor! Well ... that and a good editor.

We spent an afternoon getting to know almost the entire Swanson clan—four kids and two very harried-looking parents. Only Jim's older sister, Barbra, was absent. After a day with them I was happy I had only one brother. I could hardly imagine what it was like to grow up with a house full of sisters. I had no idea how Jim managed it.

On Bob and Sue's recommendation we spent a couple of interesting days in Bimini—at least I think they were interesting. The Webbers had told us about this little place we just HAD to see while we were there. If they hadn't suggested it we wouldn't have set foot through the door. I mean, when you see a building that looked like a dilapidated shed with graffiti covering the walls—both inside and out—and a dirt floor, what were the chances it would turn out to be such a fun place? But The End of the World Saloon and Snack Bar was apparently THE place to see in Alice Town on North Bimini.

It also turned out to be where Beth broke her rule about never drinking again. After an outstanding conch salad and a couple of Goombay Smashes she was even willing to add her panties to the collection of clothing covering the walls and ceiling.

We woke up the next morning with screaming hangovers, barely able to crawl out of the berth. Luckily, we'd paid for docking rights for a couple of days, thinking we'd spend some time just looking around. It was after noon before either of us could face the world let alone remember what we'd done the night before.

There's something about the local drinks that causes temporary amnesia, I guess. I do remember asking what went into the drinks we'd both enjoyed. "Rum, more rum, even more rum, pineapple, coconut, and maybe some other stuff," was all I got for an answer from Sara, the owner and bartender.

"Oh, Tommy, how could you let me do that?" Beth moaned.

"I was just going to ask you the same thing. I thought you'd sworn off drinking?"

"Well, yeah, but..." She wound down and slowly shook her head. Obviously she was recovering faster than I was.

I finally recovered enough to get us underway—any more exploring of Bimini would require another trip, right now we both just wanted to get back to the house.

-------

The next morning we both slept in and finally recovered from our excesses. About noon Beth crawled out of bed and gave her head an experimental shake. When her ears didn't fall off she looked at me. "I'm going for a swim. If I'm not back in an hour, see if you can find a passing dolphin to rescue me and tow me back."

"Hang on, I'll go with you," I said after testing the permanence of my own auditory organs.

Floating in the crystal clear Caribbean water was a great way to wash away the last vestiges of a night of excess. I was a bit surprised at how quickly Beth had become a good swimmer, but then, she seemed to be good at everything so I guess I shouldn't have been surprised.

After swimming ourselves into an early pruneage, a couple of hours baking in the warm sun sounded good. Once Beth was well done on both sides, she turned to me. "Tommy, would you take me back to the house?"

With a groan, I got up, reached down, and picked up my bikini-clad beauty.

"Tommy! What are you doing?" she squealed, squirming in my arms.

"You asked me to take you back to the house. Didn't you?"

"Yeah, but I meant THE HOUSE, not this one!" she said with a laugh, pointing to Matt's.

"Oh. Um, okay. You're sure you want to go back there?" I wasn't sure I wanted to. No, that wasn't true—I was sure I DIDN'T want to!

"I don't want to go in, but can we just sort of walk around it? Just kind of explore the grounds?"

"Oh, sure, that's no problem." Well, at least that couldn't be as bad as going in. Right?

"Okay, let me change."

"What? You don't want to meet a ghost in a bikini?" I kidded.

Damn elbow! Why don't I learn?

"I don't believe in ghosts—in bikinis or otherwise!"

For a gonna-be engineer my lady could be downright pedantic when it came to fuzzy subjects.

Once changed, we started walking up the path that ran through the island. When we got to the Webbers' Beth saw Sue working behind their house and pulled me after her as she stomped up to our friend.

"I want to talk to you!"

"Oh, hi, you two. What's the problem?" Sue's expression showed more humor than fear.

"That ... that place you told us we had to see in Bimini!"

"Oh. The End of the World? Did you enjoy yourself?" Sue was JUST able to keep a straight face.

"How could you do that to us? I mean I thought you were our friend!"

"What happened?" Suddenly Sue looked worried.

"That place should be illegal! And those drinks!"

"I thought you weren't going to drink any more?"

"I wasn't going to ... but Sara, the owner, suggested trying a something-or-other smash. I should have known better," Beth said with a moan.

"Oh, come on, one of those wouldn't hurt you," Sue responded.

I cleared my throat, "Um, it wasn't just one."

"Oh?" Sue said inquisitively.

"Yeah, we probably had about three ... each."

"About? You don't even remember how many?" Sue's grin was on full display now. "Did you get out of there with all your clothes?"

"Um ... no," I said. Beth spun on me.

"Is that where my panties went? I woke up on the boat and didn't have them on and didn't know where they were. I thought maybe you took them off. Tommy, how could you let me do that?!"

"I don't know. I guess it just seemed like a good idea at the time," I said in my defense. "Remember, I wasn't in any better shape than you were."

"Did I ... did I take them off right there?"

I just nodded.

"Oh, God," she said with a wail. "Right in the place? Did anybody see me?"

"Well ... you left the room, so no, nobody saw anything."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better? And I suppose you thought it was a good idea just to leave them there."

"Well, I couldn't very well pull them down."

"Pull them ... you mean they hung them up with all the others?!" I just nodded, thinking it would be wiser not to mention that I'd been the one who nailed them up.

"Right after you signed and dated them. Everybody was impressed that even as drunk as you were, your printing was still perfect"

"Oohhh," she moaned.

"Beth, don't worry about it. I'm sure there're more people who leave some piece of clothing there than don't," Sue said.

"Yeah, but what if someone sees my name?"

"Well ... nobody's mentioned recognizing mine!" Sue's grin almost equaled my lady's face for brilliance.

"Y-yours? You mean..." Beth looked flabbergasted.

"Of course! As we told you, it's a fun place."

We finally continued our walk toward our spooky destination. As we passed the vacant house north of Bob and Sue's, Beth slowed down. "That's so sad," she said. "To see a nice place like that just sitting there unused. It's too bad the kids can't agree on anything, so instead of enjoying the place it's boarded up and nobody gets to use it."

"Yeah. You know, if they keep it tied up in probate long enough, and with no maintenance, it'll start to look like the ghost house." Beth didn't say anything but just looked at the boarded-up building with her patented thousand-yard stare—the one that usually meant she was thinking of something. "Okay, what's up now?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking..." But she wouldn't tell me about what.

We walked around the house and just shook our heads over the deterioration we saw. I found myself wishing I could kick those selfish, argumentative idiots who would let a beautiful place like this go downhill.

Eventually we started back up the path to our mysterious destination. When we got to the house we followed the fence to the right as it circled the yard. Reaching the back of the property we found no beach, just a narrow path next to a drop-off of about forty feet to a jumble of fallen rock with the surf crashing at the base. The scene made me think of the windswept cliffs so popular with Victorian writers. I could see why Sue used the place as the setting for some of her books.

Beth led the way along the path until she suddenly stopped about halfway along the cliff and looked back at the house. I hope I never see a bleaker sight. The broken windows gave the house an almost skull-like look.

Just as she turned to move on there was a loud rumble and a large section of the cliff—including the path in front of us—fell into the sea. If we hadn't stopped...

"Tommy, get me out of here." I could hear my lady's teeth chatter as she turned back to hold on to me.

We followed the path back to the front of the house, then started down the main path back to our place. Beth took my arm and held on as if to make sure I wouldn't disappear and leave her alone.

When we got back to Matt's place Beth grabbed me and gave herself over to a major case of the shakes. I led her into the bedroom and got her onto the bed.

"Are you all right?" I asked as I lay down beside her.

"T-Tommy, we almost died out there. If I hadn't had the feeling I had to stop ... I don't know what it was though!"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"It was like somebody or something called to me from the house. But how could that be?" She was seriously spooked.

"I don't know. I'm just happy that we weren't any further along the cliff."

"That's what I mean. Why did I stop right there? Tommy, don't ever take me back there again. Promise."

That was a promise I was more than willing to make. I thought about our experience as I held Beth until we both fell asleep.

That night I was sitting at the table thinking about our morning's adventure when I remembered I hadn't checked my e-mail for a few days. It didn't take long down here to get out of regular routines. One of the messages waiting for me was from Joe at the photo shop requesting more of my tripod adapters. I e-mailed Todd at the machine shop and placed an order for another hundred sets. My little idea obviously had some legs and I guess the good magazine review didn't hurt.

-------

A week later found us in Nassau again. Vacation or not, we still had to keep groceries in the house. After we'd dragged our supplies back to the boat I asked Beth if she wanted to visit one of the local dive shops with me.

"No, Tommy, I don't think so, but you go ahead, I'll find a way to kill some time. Have fun!"

We agreed on a time to meet back at the boat and went our separate ways.

Two hours later I realized I was late and made my way back to the boat. I hadn't meant to be gone that long but walking into the dive shop was like turning a kid loose in a candy store. A very expensive candy store.

Beth was sitting on the deck with a strange look on her face—it seemed like a combination of frustration and a whole lot of mad.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Bureaucrats! That's what's wrong!"

"Um, what happened?"

"You remember our conversation when we were walking around the boarded-up house next to Bob and Sue's? About having the place hung up in probate? Well, that made me think maybe we could find out who was listed on the deed for the ghost house."

"Hey! Now why didn't I think of that? What did you find out?"

"That government flunkies are the same all over. That's what I found out! I went to the registrar's office and asked for information on the house and was told there was no house! That there were only five dwellings on the island, and I had to fight to get that. He didn't want to tell me anything.

"When I told him I KNEW there was a sixth, he huffed at me that I was mistaken, that their records were correct.

"I told him the house was probably more than a hundred years old and maybe that's why he didn't have any record of it. He very proudly told me they had property records going back to the seventeen hundreds and therefore the age made no difference. So I guess our mystery house really doesn't exist."

From her tone I guess some functionary was lucky firearms were rare on the islands.

-------

A couple of days later we were stretched out soaking up the sun when Beth jumped up with an impatient "humpf" and stomped into the water. After swimming around for a short time she started out of the water. "Tommy, are you—eek!"

"Whoa!" a voice whispered behind me. I turned and saw our young neighbor, Jim, standing there, staring at my lady. The fact that Beth had been trying to even out her tan and hadn't worn anything probably had something to do with the rapt expression on his face.

I turned back and saw Beth—looking like Venus on the half shell, without the shell, or the long hair—trying to decide whether to dive back in the water or just continue wading back to shore. I grabbed her towel and went down to wrap it around her.

We walked up to where Jim stood with a stunned look still on his face. "What's the matter, never seen a naked girl before?" I asked the eight-year-old boy.

"Um, well, yeah, my sisters, but none of 'em have any boobs or anything, not even Barbra," Jim replied, his face outshining the sun. Almost as bright as Beth's.

"Ah ... well ... um..." Beth stammered, "were you coming to tell us something?"

"Oh, yeah. We're leaving tomorrow. I guess my fink sister is leaving camp early so we have to go home." He continued mumbling at having his summer cut short.

"I'm sorry, Jamie. Losing part of your summer sucks, doesn't it?" Beth said, sympathetically.

"My name's not ... hmm ... Jamie?" our young neighbor said, all the while looking at Beth and obviously visualizing her without the towel. "Yeah, I kind of like that."

"Okay, Jamie it is. Now you just have to convince your mom," I said with a grin.

"Yeah. That's going to be the hard part," he said, matching my grin with a sigh.

"Will I see you next summer?" he asked.

"I don't know," I replied. "The only reason we're here this summer is because our spring breaks didn't match up so we took the next best time.

"Besides, this isn't our place and we don't know if Matt will offer it to us next year, but I hope we'll have a chance to see each other again some time."

"I do too. You are the only ones who don't treat me like a little kid.

"Did you see Cecily again? I wanted to say goodbye, but I wonder if she's gone already."

"No, we haven't seen her either. If we do, we'll tell her goodbye for you."

"Thanks. She seemed like a nice girl, not like the ones at school."

"They give you a bad time?" Beth asked.

"Yeah, I can't figure out how to talk to them, but with Cecily it was easy ... even if she seemed a little weird." I wasn't going to argue with that.

"Girls can be tough to talk to. I remember the first time I talked to Beth. I thought I'd say something stupid or embarrassing."

"What did you do?"

"I just asked if anybody wanted a ride home."

Jim—excuse me—Jamie just let out a snort, "That won't work for me."

"Jamie," Beth sat down on the dock to bring her to eye level with our young friend, "just ask them about how they're doing in school or what they thought of lunch that day, or something like that. Tommy doesn't believe me, but girls are just as nervous as you are when it comes to talking to somebody from the opposite sex."

"Really? But they're always ganged up. How do I talk to just one of them?"

"I guess you'll just have to pick your time carefully."

"I suppose." He didn't sound thrilled at the idea. "Well, I've got to go now. Bye."

Beth stood up and gave him a hug that I was sure he'd remember for a long time. "I hope you have a good trip home, and say goodbye to your folks and your sisters for us, okay?" she said with a final squeeze.

He just nodded with a dazed look on his face before he turned and walked a little unsteadily down the path. I knew how he felt, Beth's hugs could have the same effect on me.

"Did we just give an eight-year-old dating advice?"

"Tommy! That wasn't about dating, just how to get along with the other half of the world."

"I remember when I was eight," I said with a shudder. "I thought girls had cooties and tried to stay as far away from them as I could!

"How about when you were that age? Did you think boys had cooties too?"

"No. That was about the time I discovered romance books and started spending my time in the library reading and dreaming about meeting my prince charming. Princes without cooties. So you thought girls had them, huh?"

"Yeah, big hungry ones that would climb right in a guy's pants and start chomping."

"Ah, cooties with good taste!" Beth said as she snuggled closer.

Some hints even I can catch. I picked up my lady, carried her inside and rolled her onto the bed. Making sure I had a good grip on her towel when I did, of course.

A couple of hours later Beth propped her head up and looked at me, her bottom lip caught between her teeth—always a sign she was nervous about something.

"Tommy," she said, "what would you think of going home early?" I could almost see her flinch as she waited for my answer.

"You mean now?"

She nodded. "I can't believe it, but I'm just, I don't know, restless, I guess."

The funny thing was, I'd been feeling the same way. I mean, I enjoyed being down here. The swimming and diving were great, the food, spending time with the Webbers ... it all seemed like heaven, but—there's always a but— I was starting to miss being home, too. I had enough pictures to sort through and clean up to keep me busy until school started and I missed our friends—not to mention a Palace pizza!

"So let's contact the airline and change our flight. I know it'll cost us some cash, but it'll be worth it to get home."

Beth threw herself on me. "Oh, Tommy, I knew you'd understand!"

-------

We walked over to tell the Webbers about our decision. Bob gave Sue an 'I-told-you-so' look.

Sue said, "Would you be surprised if we told you we've been expecting you to leave earlier than you thought?"

"Huh? Why?" I asked. Had we done or said something to make them think we weren't enjoying ourselves?

"Oh, it's not unusual for people to overdose on the Caribbean experience the first couple of times they try it, especially their first long exposure. As crazy as it sounds, it usually takes a couple of long visits before northerners get used to the pace. They're okay for short trips but get jittery after a while."

"But it's so beautiful down here!" Beth wailed. "I feel, I don't know, like I should just be happy. It seems like I'm an idiot for feeling like I've got to get back to the rat-race."

The Webbers both nodded. "You just feel guilty because you're not as busy as you would be at home," Bob said. "You'll be better the next time. It's just part of the charm of the Caribbean."

"Yeah, but we don't know if there's going to be a next time," I said.

"Oh, I don't think you have to worry about that."

Beth and I exchanged looks. So we were going to get to come back? WHOOPIE!

"Oh, with everything else going on I almost forgot to tell you what I found out about the house on the north end ... It's not there," Beth told our friends.

"Not there?" Sue said.

"According to the Registrar's Office in Nassau there're only five properties here."

The next half hour or so was taken up with Beth explaining what had happened on our last trip to Nassau.

Bob shook his head. "That place just keeps getting more and more mysterious."

"Wait 'til you hear what happened the last time we were up at the house," Beth said. She told them about the feeling she got just before the cliff let go. Sue looked at Bob, then at us.

"So, what? You think the ghost of a girl who died almost a hundred years ago warned you?"

Beth shook her head. "I don't know what to believe any more. I'll tell you this trip has really shaken me up."

Sue gave Beth a look as if she couldn't wait to start writing and I wondered how long it would be before a version of our experience would end up in one of her books.

"Well, if you guys are leaving, looks like we'll have to throw you a going away party. Can you stay for dinner?" Beth and I glanced at each other and just nodded.

Two days later they dropped us off at the Nassau airport and, after hugs all around, we were on our way north.

-------

We arrived home only four hours late. The original plan was to catch a cab from the airport to the duplex, but we got outvoted when we called Greg and Cindy to tell them of our change in plans.

"We're going to be out there to get you. Period." Cindy hath spoken, I guess.

Luckily, she had called ahead to check our flight before she and Greg drove out to pick us up. We had just grabbed our bags when we saw Cindy waving.

"Damn, you two look great. Beth, your hair is almost blond! Was that all from the sun?" Beth just gave an embarrassed little nod. I hadn't even noticed how light her hair had gotten over the summer.

"Greg's going to pick us up outside and he's going to go nuts when he sees you like that! I've just got to give him a quick call," she said as she pulled out her phone. By the time we got outside, Greg was pulling up. He hopped out and opened the trunk. As he helped me put our stuff in he kept glancing at Beth.

"Hey, guy, you're going to start drooling if you don't watch out," I kidded him.

"I've never seen her like that. With blond hair and that tan? Wow!"

"So, are you guys hungry?" he asked as we got in the car.

"Pizza!" we responded together. Cindy just shook her head.

"Greg said that's what you'd say," she grumbled with a mock frown.

"And just what was the bet?" I asked.

"Let's just say it's a win/win either way," Greg replied with a sneaky little leer.

We walked into the Palace and Jeanie stared at us. "Where have you guys been?" she asked.

We gave her a short version of our summer that had her shaking her head. "Why didn't I get chances like that when I was your age? Hell, why don't I get them now?" she said as she left to put our order in.

"So, what fun and disgusting things did you do?" Cindy asked.

"Oh, Beth corrupted the morals of an eight-year-old boy and we saw a ghost," I said. Might as well get the conversation off to an interesting start, I thought, as Greg and Cindy looked at each other and started peppering us with questions.

About the time Beth finished telling our housemates of our final encounter with Jamie Swanson, Jeanie came round the corner with our pies. After a few minutes of concentrated noshing Cindy couldn't stand it any more.

"So what's this about seeing a ghost? Beth, you're the last person I'd expect to claim something like that."

"Cindy, I just don't know any more! I mean, I don't believe there's anything like ghosts, but some things happened down there that I just can't explain."

"You mean like voodoo?" Greg asked, half jokingly.

"NO!" Beth said vehemently, then went on to describe our meeting Cecily, and our experiences at the house. By the time we were finished eating and Beth's story was done I think if someone had walked up and tapped either Cindy or Greg on the shoulder it would have taken a ladder and CPR to get them off the ceiling and breathing again.

We got back to the duplex just before dark. Greg hit the button to open the garage door and pulled in. As we were getting out we heard a rustling sound.

"What was that?" I asked. "Have we got critters in here?"

"Um, well—" Cindy said just as a furry black streak ran up to Beth, dead-stopped at her feet and looked up.

"Meow?"



-------

Chapter 4


"How'd you do that?" Cindy demanded. "I've been trying to catch that little beast for the last three days! Now you get out of the car and have him ready to play dead at your feet."

The kitten did exactly that when Beth bent down and scratched his chin. The little black ball of fur rolled onto his back, waving all four paws in the air as she scratched his belly. I couldn't blame him, I'd been known to act the same way.

"What a cutie!" she said as she reached down and picked him up. "How'd he get in here?"

"We don't know," Greg said. "We got home the other night and just caught a quick flash when we opened the door. Cindy tried to coax him out with some milk but the little devil wouldn't come out if we were watching. He'd wait until we walked out of sight then sneak out and lap it up."

"Yeah, until you showed up," Cindy grumbled as she reached over to help Beth spoil our uninvited guest.

"What do we do now?" Beth asked.

"I suppose see if anybody in the neighborhood lost him. He can't be that old," I said. "If nobody claims him I guess it's a trip to the animal shelter. Either that or adopt him ourselves."

Cindy chuckled, "Tommy, you don't adopt a cat. It's the other way around."

"Yeah, but, I've never had a cat!" Beth said. "Or any pet. I don't know how to take care of him."

"Well," Greg offered, "maybe a trip to a vet? Get his shots and some idea of what to do?"

"I suppose ... Should we name him? And what?"

"Pyewacket."

All three of them stared at me.

"Pie what?" Greg looked at me. "What kind of name is that? Or did you sneeze?"

"Pyewacket. I read a book about witch hunts in England back in the sixteen hundreds and ran across the name. I guess since he's a black cat it just triggered my flypaper memory."

"So, I suppose that makes me Kim Novak?" Beth said as she continued to scratch the kitten.

"Kim Novak? The actress? What does she have to do with it?"

"You mean there's something about old movies that you don't know? Pyewacket was her cat in Bell, Book and Candle. Except in the movie he was a Siamese."

"So, what next?" I was curious what Beth would decide. We'd never had pets at home either, and I wasn't sure how a cat would fit into our lifestyle.

"Right now let's get in the house. We can't do anything until Monday anyway."

Greg and I grabbed our stuff and followed the girls ... and the cat, whatever his name was.

Once we got everything into the house—why is it coming back from a vacation always involves what seems like more stuff than we started with?—we spent an hour or so continuing our conversation from dinner.

Once Greg and Cindy went upstairs we looked at the pile of suitcases, camera bags, and backpacks and decided tomorrow was soon enough. That left our unexpected houseguest.

I rummaged around in the basement and found a milk crate that would work as short-term housing for our guest. Beth grabbed an old blanket, folded it to fit in the crate and tried to settle him down.

Right.

I came out of the shower and there he was, cuddled up on the bed with Beth.

"Um..."

"Oh, he's not staying. I'll put him back in his bed," she said, picking up the fuzzy one and depositing him in the crate on the way in to take her shower. That's when the crying began. I got up and found His Honor trying to climb out of his temporary quarters, all the time complaining to his landlord about his accommodations.

"Hey, guy. I'm not the easy mark she is. That's your bed and you're staying there." He gave me a nasty look and crouched down as if he was thinking of making a leap for freedom. "Don't even think about it," I said, "or you'll find yourself out in the hall." He quieted down, but it didn't last long.

When Beth came out of the shower the feline sympathy symphony started all over. She looked at the cat, knelt down, and petted him until he fell asleep. Then she turned out the light and climbed in next to me. After a couple of minutes I nudged her. "I'm having trouble getting to sleep, too."

It worked.

I woke up the next morning with a rumbling weight on my chest. I opened one eye and found myself looking into a pair of green eyes at a distance of about three inches.

"What are you doing out of your crate?"

"Blert?"

"Yes, you. I knew this was a bad idea." I looked over at Beth, lying there on her back with the sheet down to her waist, sound asleep, not a care in the world—just as I'd been thirty seconds before. I picked up the kitten and put him down on her chest. He gave me what had to be a smug look, curled up with his head on her left breast and promptly fell asleep. Lucky damn animal.

I got up, started the coffee, got the paper, then took care of the usual morning mumbo-jumbo. As I drank my first dose of caffeine, I considered whether I really wanted to find our lodger belonged to someone in the neighborhood or if having the little freeloader as a permanent resident wouldn't be so bad after all.

I was finishing my coffee and the morning paper when my lady came out of the bedroom. "Tommy, where did he come from?" she said, motioning to the little black furry ball in her arms.

"He was staring at me when I woke up this morning."

She looked down at the kitten. "You little pest. Are we going to have problems with you?" The cat didn't reply but I could swear he still had the smug grin on his fuzzy face.

As per plan, we spent the weekend canvassing the neighborhood to see if anyone claimed our trespasser. No one did. By late Sunday afternoon it was pretty obvious the little guy didn't have a home, so now came Decision Number Two—do we keep him or make a stop at the Humane Society on Monday? If it was left up to Beth the choice would be obvious. I'd been trying to think of a good reason we shouldn't keep him and realized I didn't have one.

And so Pyewacket became part of our family.

Monday it was back to business as usual. Beth went to her folks' shop and by eight I was in front of my computer facing the daunting task of going through the summer's worth of pictures. Knowing I was in for a long session, I thought I'd better make a call first. Jim Moore had sent me an e-mail asking me to call him when we got back from the island and I figured I'd better do it now.

"Hey, Tommy! Back already? Let me guess—a case of the Caribbean Guilts?" Jim said when I called.

"Yeah, it's amazing how too much fun and sun can do that to you."

"You've got that right. I remember the first time I heard Matt mention the possibility that somebody could enjoy a vacation too much. I thought he was kidding! Anyway, the reason I called is our new building is finished and we'd like some pictures now that we're all moved in. Interested?"

"Sure. When would you like to do it?"

"Is Wednesday too soon?"

"No, Wednesday would be good. Meet you out there or at the office?"

"Why don't you stop here and we can drive out together? Maybe about ten?"

"Ten it is. I'll see you then."

Now that Jim's appointment was set, it was time to tackle my pictures from the summer. I started by transferring them to my desktop machine, then dividing them down by type; culling the obvious losers and adding keywords to the keepers. Our new resident sat on my lap and added his comments between naps.

By noon I'd fought my way through maybe a quarter of my Caribbean shots and figured it was time to quit before my eyeballs fell out onto the keyboard. I grabbed a Coke and sat down on the front porch to watch the world go by ... and maybe snooze a bit. Cats have the right idea when it comes to time management.

"Tommy. It must be nice to sleep all day."

"Mphf? Wha ... Oh, hi. Um, how was work?" I looked at Beth, standing there in black jeans and t-shirt. With the black cat standing on her shoulder, I could almost imagine her as a witch. Oh, not the nasty kind. The sexy kind. She certainly had bewitched me!

"Get your butt out of that chair. We've got some shopping to do."

We do? "We do?"

"Don't you think we should buy our friend here something a little more permanent than a milk crate, and how about a litter box, and some toys, and—"

"Okay, okay, I get the picture. Let's hit the pet store over by Stadium Village. Maybe they can suggest a good vet in the area, too."

We were debating whether to take Pye with us when Cindy came down the stairs.

"Hi, guys. Oh, there's the little cutie!" she said as she reached out to scratch him under the chin. He stretched his neck up and accepted her attention in typical feline fashion—as homage due a superior species.

"Cindy, how would you like to watch him for a while?" Beth asked. "We were just going out to the pet shop."

"Sure! I'd be happy to!" she said as she took our freeloader out of Beth's arms. "Take your time!" she giggled as she started back up the stairs with His Honor already snuggled into her arms.

We hit the pet store near us and soon had a litter box, litter, cat bed, scratching post, feather wand, and a couple of squeaky toys. Looking at the pile of stuff I wondered what would be involved when we had kids.

We also asked at the store about a good vet in the area. They asked if we were University students and why we didn't use the veterinary school. Beth and I just exchanged looks something along the lines of Why weren't you smart enough to think of that?

Monday night we tried to convince our furry freeloader to sleep in his brand new bed and quickly learned that trying to convince a cat to do something ranks right up there with teaching a pig to sing.

The next morning I rolled over only to find my favorite cuddle spot was occupied. His Honor just looked at me, gave me a dismissive sneer and settled down for another well-deserved snooze. Me? I got up, grumbling about having to start my day without any attention. I could see The Furry One and I were going to have to have a discussion over our sleeping arrangements.

Later in the morning I called the vet school and made an appointment for that afternoon. They asked if I was a student and I told them the cat's owner was. Might as well get a student discount if we could.

After setting up a time with the vet I went back to sorting pictures. I found one I'd taken of Jamie and Cecily that day we'd met on the path and wondered if a real ghost would appear in a photograph.

The cat was snoozing on my lap when their picture appeared. He sat up and looked at the screen, his head cocked to one side as he studied the image. He jumped up on the desk, pushed his nose right up to the monitor, and started purring like mad. What was that all about? He'd never shown much interest in anything on the screen before, except for watching some of the bouncing figures on my screen saver, but for some reason Cecily's picture fascinated him. As soon as I changed to the next shot he got agitated and walked around to look at the back of the monitor as if he could find her back there. When he didn't have any luck at that, he came back and stared at the screen again. Weird—even for a cat.

When I continued to go through my pictures he watched the monitor intently, as if waiting for Cecily to come back. After a few minutes he jumped off my lap and started pacing around the room. He was still pacing when Beth got home in time to take our resident pest to the vet.

"Hi, Tommy. How was your day?" she asked as she bent down to pick up the kitten.

"Oh, okay, except for something he did a while ago." I went on to explain what had happened.

"Hmm ... Can you bring that shot up again?"

"Sure," I said as I clicked on the file. When the image appeared, Pye let out a meow, leaped out of Beth's arms onto the desk, and put his face right up to the monitor, rubbing against the screen, and purring like he had the first time.

"He'd never done that with any other picture?"

I assured her he hadn't. As an experiment, I enlarged the image so just Jamie was showing. As Cecily disappeared off the side of the screen, Pye repeated what he'd done before—walked around to check the back of the monitor, as if she'd walked behind the screen. Beth picked him up and brought him back around by me. I panned the shot over so Jamie disappeared and Cecily came back—same reaction—he cocked his head to one side, pushed his nose up to the monitor and purred.

"How's that for strange?" I asked. Beth just shook her head. She picked up our crazy feline and looked him in the eye. "What's with you, cat? Did you see someone you thought you knew?" He just cuddled down in her arms and said nothing.

We took him in to see the vet and he got a clean bill of health. Since we didn't know exactly how old he was, Beth asked the vet, who guessed about eight weeks. We didn't know about shots either, so the vet said it was best to err on the side of caution and get the first set.

That night I had a heart-to-heart with him about sleeping arrangements and should have saved my breath. Wednesday morning I woke up and saw my spot had been preempted once more. Sigh...

-------

Wednesday morning I loaded all the equipment I'd need for Jim's shoot and drove out to pick him up. When I got to the office, he was waiting for me.

"Hi, Tommy! Right on time as always. You want me to drive?"

"Hi, Jim. No, why don't you just hop in. I've got too much stuff with me. As long as you can direct me. The other times I've been out there we went by air," I said with a grin.

"Hmm, that's right, we did. Speaking of that, I want to thank you again for that great picture you did of my plane."

"You're welcome. After all, you did me a favor, taking that detour so I could get that picture of the farm. Beth's grandparents loved it.

"So, what kind of pictures are you looking for?"

"You remember the shots you got of our original warehouse? Well, we'd like these to update our web page and show off our new facility."

Once in the building I tried to remember what it had looked like last time I saw it—big and bare. Now it was full of row after row of floor-to-ceiling racks, all loaded with parts both big and small. Jim and I climbed onto one of the forklift-like pickers the staff used and rode around for an hour, Jim explaining what made the new facility better than the original and me trying to get images of everything in sight.

After we got back to the office Jim asked me to come in.

"You want to see Matt before you head out?"

"Yeah. I want to thank him again for the use of the house and boat."

"Sure. I think he wants to talk to you, too."

Hmmm, what was that all about?

"Hi, Tommy! I see you came back a little early. I figured you'd be down there until just before school started," Matt said when we walked into his office.

"Yeah, well, it was funny, but both Beth and I started feeling a little, I don't know, almost guilty being down there when there were things we could be doing here."

Matt and Jim exchanged grins, then Matt got an almost apologetic look. "Tommy, I've got some bad news for you—I've sold my place on the island. I just can't find the time to get down there and my health isn't what it used to be. I'm sorry."

Jeez, the guy's nice enough to lend that great house to us and now he's feeling bad because he sold it?

"Matt, you don't have to apologize. I won't say it's not a disappointment to know we won't be able to enjoy it down there any more, but we both appreciate the time we've had there and I want to thank you again for trusting us." Damn!

"Thanks, Tommy. Now I don't feel quite so guilty."

We talked for another few minutes before I left. Now came the tough part—breaking the news to Beth.

-------

The next week things in the neighborhood started to pick up as school drew near. Getting through the area got to be a daily battle, with trailers and rental trucks in front of what seemed like every other house. We even had a couple of occasions where we had to ask somebody to move their vehicle so we could get out of the driveway. Damn inconsiderate college kids!

Cindy and Greg came down to join us for an evening on the front porch. We picked up some munchies from a local spot and were working our way through them as we watched the world go by.

"Can you believe school starts in a week?" Greg moaned. "Where'd the summer go?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'm kind of looking forward to getting back to classes," Beth replied. I wasn't going to get in the middle of a discussion of school versus vacation, but I was eager to get back to the Institute. If for no other reason than the special project Mr. Nordstrom had lined up for me.

That night I was in bed with our furry friend when Beth came back from her shower.

"What's with having him in bed?" she said as she climbed in next to me and reached over to scratch His Honor's fuzzy little belly. Damn, I could remember when she used to do that to me!

"I'm trying a little reverse psychology. Maybe if he thinks we want him here, he'll decide he should go someplace else."

Beth gave me one of her lots of luck looks and a kiss, rolled over and turned out her light. I put Pye on her butt and turned out my light, then snuggled in and wrapped my arm around her. I heard a little meow? and fell asleep with the smug thought that I'd succeeded in outsmarting an eight-week-old feline. Yeah, right.

The next conscious thought I had was the next morning when I realized I'd either gotten shuffled out of my favorite spot or Beth was going to have to shave her back. I opened my eyes and found a ball of fur happily snoozing between us. How he'd worked his way in there, I didn't know, but it was obvious my cat psychology needed some work.

I'd finished up all our Caribbean shots the day before and sent Bob and Sue an e-mail with a bunch of them attached. I manfully resisted including one I hadn't shown Beth yet—her panties hanging from the ceiling of The End of the World.

-------

All good things must come to an end, I suppose, and the next Monday we were back in school. For once our schedules matched which meant we'd have Spring Break together! Too bad we wouldn't be able to use Matt's place again.

"Well, Thomas, I see we will be working together."

I had just walked into the Art Institute's main building when I heard a voice that still sent a little shiver through me. I turned around. "Hello, Mr. Grossfeldt. Are you talking about the photo book for the Institute? Yeah, Mr. Nordstrom asked me about it last spring. Um ... are you involved, too?"

"Yes. I will be involved in choosing the objects which will be included in the book. The Institute's collection includes many fine pieces which, for many reasons, have never been on public display. It will be the responsibility of those of you chosen to produce the photographs to show the pieces to their best advantage." Well, no pressure there!

I stopped after my first Photography class to talk to Mr. Nordstrom.

"Are you anxious to get to work, Tommy?"

"Yes, sir, I am. Do you have a schedule set up?"

"Not yet. I thought I'd give everyone a chance to get back in harness before we started, but you're the second person who's asked me so I guess I'd better get busy!"

After my last class I stopped at the bookstore and—reading list in hand—emptied my checkbook. This school stuff was getting expensive. Luckily, my photography earnings were allowing me to afford it. My folks had saved some money to send both Kevin and me to school, but tuition, books, and fees had skyrocketed past what they'd planned for so I was picking up more and more of my own expenses. I hoped this project might help me snag a grant or two. Mr. Nordstrom had mentioned some of the past projects had generated some interest from a couple of the Institute's major supporters so maybe, just maybe...

-------

Saturday morning I got up early and went out to the garage. Greg and I had agreed to do some landscape demolition and we wanted to get an early start. I was piling the required implements of destruction in the wheelbarrow when Greg walked out of the house.

"Ready to get to work?" he asked as he pulled on a pair of leather work gloves.

"Yeah, as soon as I go back in and grab my gloves. I knew I forgot something this morning." Greg just chuckled as he piloted the wheelbarrow down the driveway to the front of the house.

Beth and I had visited her folks for dinner shortly after we got back from the island and Chuck had just happened to mention that the shrubs along the front porch were starting to look shabby and it was time to replace them. I got the hint and corralled Greg into helping. Since our living arrangement gave Greg and Cindy their apartment for a fraction of the going rate he'd been more than willing to help out around the place.

By the time we finished cutting down the bushes and pulling the stumps we both looked—and probably smelled—as if neither of us had a working relationship with soap and water. Greg's dad had offered to pick up the debris and cart it out to the recycle center on Monday so we just piled it all up and called it a day.

I was letting the hot water run over my body when I was joined by my favorite shower-mate. "You want your back scrubbed?"

Silly girl for even asking. I was always ready for a back-scrub, or a front-scrub, or...

As we stood under the running water, trying to get our breaths back, I chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"I just realized we've found a spot without our little interloper."

Beth was quiet for what seemed like a long time. "Tommy, you don't like the kitten do you?"

"Beth, it's not that I don't like him, it's just that I'm selfish when it comes to you," I said as I reached around to cradle her breasts in my hands.

When we finally finished cleaning up, I turned the water off, pulled back the shower curtain and started laughing. Beth looked over my shoulder and joined me.

When Chuck had remodeled the bathrooms several years before he'd had a heated towel rack installed ... and guess who'd found it. Beth and I had to hold each other up we were laughing so hard while Pyewacket lay curled up on top of my towel looking like nothing so much as a king on his throne.

"Tommy, why don't we put his bed in here tonight?"

"Won't work. You know he'll just sit outside the door and cry all night."

"How do you know that?" my lady asked.

"'Cause that's what I'd do," I answered with a squeeze.

"Well ... let's try it. Maybe he'll surprise us."

"Worth a try, I guess."

As soon as I moved his bed out of the bedroom, our furry friend seemed to know something was up. He started walking back and forth between the bedroom and bathroom, grumbling the whole time.

That night I got into bed and found someone waiting for me. "And what do you think you're doing here?" I asked the kitten. Being a cat he refused to answer, just sat on the bed and stared at me with his head cocked to one side, radiating mistrust. It was almost as if he knew what we had planned.

When Beth came in she looked at the bed and just shook her head. She picked him up, carried him into the bathroom, came back, and firmly shut the door. "Now let's see that little scamp interrupt us!" she said as she started to slip out of her robe.

"You remember that first Friday night? When you offered to give me a back rub and told me that nothing could save me? Well, turnabout's only fair play ... and a bitch!" she growled as she pounced on me.

We were both drifting off when Beth let out a little squeak. She reached back and picked up the black fuzzy ball of pestiferous feline who had pounced on her butt.

With a sigh I got up and put him back in the bathroom and this time closed both the bathroom and bedroom doors. Now let's see him get in!

By the time I turned out the lights, walked across the room, and crawled into bed, Beth was laughing like mad. Guess who was curled up next to her? All I could think of was a book my dad had in his library of science fiction. A book about a cat who could walk through walls.

Maybe it wasn't fiction?

As I drifted off I had a funny thought—I'd occasionally wondered what it would be like, sharing a bed with Beth and somebody else. I never thought it would be with another guy!



-------

Chapter 5


Monday Mr. Nordstrom posted a schedule for the project that showed Tuesday as an introductory session for everyone involved.

"Well, Thomas, are you ready to work?" Mr. Grossfeldt asked as I walked into the photography studio for the meeting Tuesday afternoon. What was he doing here? Since I wasn't his student anymore, and after our discussion over coffee last spring, I'd lost my immediate fear of being in his presence, but still...

"Yes, sir."

"I see you brought your camera; you realize we cannot allow any strobe lights, do you not?"

"Of course. The ultraviolet component in the flash wouldn't do the paintings any good. Oh, not that a single flash would cause an immediate effect, but better safe than sorry. Isn't that the same reason only incandescent lighting is used in the galleries?"

"Very good! You obviously are aware of the protocol for fine art. It is unfortunate so many visitors ignore the posted signs.

"Do you have any experience with incandescent lighting?" he asked.

"Yes, I have. Mainly for photographing small items. I used nothing but incandescent lights until I could afford a good set of strobes, and still use them when it seems appropriate."

"Thomas, you continue to challenge my opinion of photographers." High praise from a man I originally thought would never say a good thing about anyone with a camera in his hand.

As the rest of the group filtered in I saw some familiar faces—Anse David and a couple of others from Photography, and several more I recognized. In a small school like the Institute, it doesn't take too long before you recognize almost everyone on campus, even if you don't share any classes with them. I did notice Frank Fowler wasn't there. Surprise, surprise. With his who-gives-a-shit attitude I doubt he'd have wanted to be involved even if Mr. Nordstrom had asked. Not that there'd been much chance of that!

Speaking of our instructor...

"Good afternoon, everybody. We'll keep this session short, just a quick introduction and some time for you to ask questions.

"As you know, the purpose of this project is to document some of the Institute's lesser-known pieces in a catalog that will be published and available for purchase in the gift shop. We'll be working with both flat art as well as sculptures and other three-dimensional pieces. I'd like each of you to get some exposure to photographing all types of art. After all, this is supposed to be a learning experience, too." That got chuckles from everybody.

"Since no one can be an expert with every type of art—not even me—we'll have several additional staff members available to assist. For instance, I'm sure you all recognize Mr. Grossfeldt." Several nervous mumbles were the only reaction. Everyone in the room had been exposed to Grossfeldt since his courses were a required part of the curriculum for all majors, and it was obvious I wasn't the only one who'd experienced his, um... unique style of instruction.

"We'll be starting next Monday and I'd like all of you to sign up for at least one afternoon or evening a week for the next month. At that time we'll determine if additional time is needed.

"Oh, and before I forget, in addition to the extra credit, the Institute has agreed to offer each of you a stipend for your work. It will be available either as a check at the end of the program or as credit against tuition or purchases at the bookstore. Just don't expect it to cover too much!" That got a laugh from everyone.

"Any questions?" He looked around the room.

"Um, you said they were going to print a catalog? Does that mean the Institute is going to sell those pieces?" one of the guys asked.

"No, in this case it's a book that shows the work, not something like the old Sears catalog."

After answering a few more questions that came up, he passed around a sign-up sheet and we were done for the day.

-------

That night Beth and I visited my parents for dinner. Kev was at Gail's so it was just the four of us. I had almost expected Beth's folks to be there until I remembered they were out of town on a business trip of some sort. For parents from such different social strata, our folks seemed to be pretty close. At times it almost seemed as if they had formed a unified front to make sure we stayed together. I'd even kidded Beth that Kev was lucky she didn't have a sister his age. Otherwise Gail wouldn't have had a chance.

"So, how's school going for the two of you?" Mom asked as we sat at the table after the meal.

We spent an hour talking about school and life in general. I thought Dad was going to laugh himself off his chair when Beth talked about our fuzzy new housemate. Eventually Mom got up and started clearing the table. We all got up, intending to help, until we male-types ended up getting booted out of the kitchen. Apparently Mom wanted some girl time with my lady. Dad and I settled in the family room.

"So how's your photo business doing?" Dad asked.

"Great! I've been getting a bunch of commercial work, including a lot of repeat business. It's the way the hardware stuff's been selling that's amazed me. I mean, my little idea for a tripod add-on has really taken off."

"That's great, Tommy! How about school?"

What was this—Pump the Kid Day?

"Well, it's a little early to say. I mean we've only been back in class for a week. I'll be starting that special project I told you about so that'll take care of any spare time."

"Just don't over-extend yourself. Don't forget to get plenty of sleep," he said with a quick glance toward the kitchen.

"Dad! Jeez!" My dad was a dirty old man! Thinking that's all Beth and I did.

"Tommy, I remember what it was like to be your age.

"By the way, I just got our bank statement yesterday and I see you didn't withdraw anything from your college account. You DID remember to pay your tuition, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did. I earned enough to cover it. This quarter anyway."

"Well, just don't forget the money's there if you need it." Did I hear just a touch of pride in his voice? Was it that I was doing well enough on my own to handle school expenses myself, or was it because he and Mom had been able to stash away enough over the years to help if I needed it? Or maybe a little of both?

Our ladies came in about then and we talked for another hour before Beth and I could escape.

Once in the car, Beth let out a huge sigh.

"What's wrong?" I asked. Normally Beth and my mom got along pretty well. We'd both been very lucky in that department. Between my folks and Beth's, it seemed almost a conspiracy to make sure we were happy, not like some of the stories we'd heard from friends about parents trying to keep their kids from making any permanent attachments.

"Oh, it's nothing. Your mom just sounded like she was impatient to be a grandmother. I told her again we both want to finish school before we get married or have kids. She agreed, but I still got the feeling she wished we'd hurry."

What was with my mother? I mean, any normal parent would be thrilled to hear we were in no hurry to have kids. So what was going on with her?

-------

Wednesday morning I woke up before the alarm went off for a change. I rolled over and saw my lady, stretched out on her tummy with Pye draped over her ankles ... sound asleep. I think he finally got the hint that trying to squeeze between us in bed wasn't appreciated and had taken up residence on our feet at night. I got up and stumbled to the bathroom, then grabbed my camera. The two of them snoozing away was just too tempting. As I walked back in the bedroom Pye looked up at me and emitted something that sounded entirely too much like Beth's "Oh, God, he's got the camera ... again" groan.

It was obvious when Beth finally got up, as Pye padded into the kitchen to give me his morning tale of woe. Such a pitiful wailing and gnashing of teeth you never heard. Not that I was going to buy it. I gave him his usual bowl of cat food and selfishly kept my breakfast to myself. At least until I got up to get myself a second cup of coffee and found when I turned back to the table that our felonious feline had hopped onto the table and was helping himself to my eggs and toast.

When my lady walked into the kitchen the performance was repeated. We'd have been hung by our thumbs if the PETA folks ever heard him howl at his mistreatment and miserable life. I just shook my head and grinned when Beth folded and fed him bits off her plate.

Once I got to school, the day took forever. I was anxious to start on the project and every class session—well, maybe with the exception of Photography—seemed to last at least three hours.

When I walked into the room set aside for the project, I saw Mr. Nordstrom had the view camera set up with the digital back already mounted and a table full of statues ready for their close-ups.

"Hello, again, Tommy," he said. "Are you ready to get to work?"

"I sure am! So we're starting with statues first?"

He just chuckled. "Better not hear you call these statues within earshot of Mr. Grossfeldt. According to him, these are sculptures. Statues are images of dead generals and politicians." Something to remember.

"How do you want these photographed? I mean, do you want just plain images with flat lighting or something with a little—I don't know—drama? You know, higher contrast lighting, colored gels, or what?"

"Mug shots or mag shots, huh?" Mr. Nordstrom chuckled. "Why don't we do some of each. After all, the Institute spends a lot of time and money designing and arranging their displays, so I guess we should do the same for the catalog. Or at least give them some choices.

"Let's start with this one," he said, picking up a piece about a foot tall.

I put it on a short draped pedestal that was sitting on the work table. The pedestal gave me just enough separation from the background so I could light the sculpture without a lot of unwanted shadows.

It seemed like a day later when Mr. Nordstrom decided we'd done enough for one session. "Tommy, why don't we take a look at what we've got so far, then we can call and have one of the staff people come down to return these pieces to storage."

Sounded good to me. It took a lot of concentration to get exactly the right image, especially with a view camera—so many possible adjustments made for too many choices.

We loaded the files onto the lab's computer. With its twenty-four inch monitor we should be able to check every detail.

I plopped myself on one of the high stools and started going through the day's work. I was a little surprised at the small number of images we'd gotten for two hour's work.

I kept a note pad next to the monitor as I went through the individual shots. As careful as I thought I'd been, there were some that would require little adjustments to get the final image I had envisioned. I was sure Mr. Grossfeldt and the rest of the staff would want some changes along with the suggestions Mr. Nordstrom offered.

I stopped when one shot came up. We'd been working with a nude done in white marble and, as an experiment, I'd lit the background in blue and put an orange gel on the main light. The result gave the appearance of a sunset. As I was looking at it, Mr. Nordstrom chuckled.

"Bring back some memories, Tommy?"

As a matter of fact, seeing it on the screen reminded me of the sunset picture I'd gotten of Beth, all oiled up, glistening as if she'd just risen from the waves.

Had I subconsciously done that?

"Y-yeah, it does," I stammered.

"Couldn't be your special lady, could it? The one whose drawing got you in so much trouble when it was in our magazine?"

"Um ... yeah, that would be her."

"Well, think on the bright side—if we use this one, I don't think the subject will complain," he laughed.

"Tommy, I'm going to have to leave for an appointment for about an hour. Do you want to keep working or shall we lock up?"

I checked my watch. "If it's okay with you I'd like to work for a while yet." Beth's class schedule meant she wouldn't be home for at least a couple of hours so I might as well put the time to good use.

"Great. I'll see you in about an hour, then."

I was just about done making a first pass through the day's shots when a pair of arms came around me. "Guess who!"

I knew it wasn't Beth, so... "Val?"

"How'd you know?" she pouted. "I wanted to surprise you!"

"Well, you did. I haven't seen you since before school let out last spring. What's new?"

She held up her left hand so I could see the ring on her finger. The diamond almost out-sparkled her smile. Almost.

"Val, congratulations! Brad?"

She nodded. "Yeah. He asked me during the summer. Can you believe it? I'm going to get married!" I almost expected her to break into a little dance.

"Um ... Tommy," suddenly she looked worried, "do you think, um, well ... doyouthinkBethwouldbemymaidofhonor?"

"Huh? I mean, well, I mean, maid of honor? I don't know. You'll have to ask her."

"Tommy, I'm scared. What happens if she says no? I mean with the way I was acting when I was trying ... well, you know ... before.

"Tommy, I don't know who else I'd ask," she said.

I remembered the conversation when Beth told me about Val's family; how her parents wanted a boy and were so disappointed with Val that they pretty much ignored her. No love lost there and, at least until she aimed her sights at me, she'd been pretty shy and quiet. I guess being ignored most of your life gave a person two choices—act up to get attention, or just fade into the background. I remembered how shy Beth had been when we met and, although the two girls had little else in common, I could understand Val's situation.

"Val, are you asking me to ask her for you? I don't think I'd be very comfortable doing that, but what I WILL do is tell her you're planning to get married and the problem you're having. Sort of do some prep work for you. Would that make it easier?"

"Oh, God, yes. I hate to ask you to do that, but, well, after the way I acted ... I just feel kind of, you know, funny."

"Look, I'll talk to her and see how she reacts, okay?" Val just nodded.

After she left I copied all the images I wanted to take home to Photoshop and started to put things away. I was just finishing when Mr. Nordstrom came back.

"So, just finishing up it looks like," he said.

"Yeah. I hope it's okay if I take some of the files home and work on them there."

"Sure, no problem. Just remember, no matter what you do it's still going to be up to the committee as to which images end up in the book."

"I know. I just want to give them the best stuff I can do."

"Now that's what I like to hear! I'll see you, let's see," he said, looking at the schedule, "Monday?"

"Yeah. Well, except for class, of course," I added with a chuckle.

He just snorted and gave me a punch on the shoulder. "See you in the morning, then," he said as I picked up my backpack and headed for the door.

-------

Along with the University, there were several public schools in the area, and schools meant fund raisers, and fund raisers meant kids ringing doorbells...

"Hi there," I said to the maybe-ten-year-old girl standing at our front door, a box of what looked like candy bars in one hand and a woman I assumed to be her mother hanging onto the other.

"Hi. My name's Judy and I'm trying to raise money for our school choir. Would you be inter..." She stopped and stared over my shoulder.

I looked back to see Beth walk into the living room, dressed in what had become her latest style—a black t-shirt and black jeans, with a nice strip of smooth, bare flesh between them. Pyewacket was riding his usual perch on her shoulder, looking every bit like a witch's familiar. Since Beth had brought home a copy of Bell, Book and Candle I'd been having a fun time calling her Gillian, Kim Novak's character in the movie.

"Blackie!" Time stopped as the box of candy hit the floor and a black blur flew from my lady's shoulder to the girl, almost knocking her over when he landed in her arms. The next thing I knew she was on her knees, surrounded by candy bars, a loudly-purring cat snuggling his way deeper into her grasp, and tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Blackie, Blackie, Blackie," she kept repeating as she rocked back and fourth.

Beth and I looked at each other. After canvassing the neighborhood trying to find the stray kitten's people, they turn up on our front steps, a month later, hawking candy for a school's music department. Just about the time you think you've got life figured out...

"Excuse me," the girl's mother said. "My name is Fran Kowalski. Judy is my daughter. May I ask where you got your cat?"

We explained how we'd found him in our garage when we got back from the island.

"We tried to find out who he belonged with, but didn't have any luck," Beth explained.

"Blackie was Judy's kitten. We were in California for the summer and had left him with some friends," Mrs. Kowalski said. "When we got back they told us he'd gotten out of the house and disappeared. Although Judy never stopped hoping he'd come back, we never expected to see him again. The two of them had been so close. He'd sleep in her bed every night and she's had trouble sleeping without him since he disappeared.

"Look, I know I have no right to ask you, but..."

"I know what you're going to say," Beth said, "and there's no question where Pye, err ... Blackie belongs. I'm just amazed you happened to come to our door."

I don't think I'd ever been more proud of my princess. I knew the struggle she was going through, although it would take someone who really knew her to see it. The little black bundle of fur had worked his way into Beth's heart and I was finding the thought of not having to share our bed and our lives with him a little tough to take myself.

The whole time the three of us were talking Judy was rocking back and forth, the kitten tight in her grasp, the pair of them surrounded by spilled candy and tears. I was afraid the little guy was in danger of drowning.

Beth explained that we'd taken the cat to a vet and gave Fran the paperwork the clinic had given us.

"I really appreciate what you've done for him and I'm really sorry to take him, but..."

"Mrs. Kowalski, I can see how attached the two of them are," Beth said, nodding to the pair on the floor. "I'm just glad we were able to get them back together."

After the Kowalskis left, Beth plopped down on the couch and fell apart. "Damn it, Tommy, I knew getting attached to him was a mistake, a-and now he's gone!"

I sat down next to her, took her in my arms, and let her sob until she fell asleep. When she woke up and went to take a shower I gathered all the stuff we'd bought for the kitten and carried it down to the basement. I wasn't sure we'd ever need it again, I just wanted to make it a little easier for Beth by removing anything that would remind her of the little cat.

That night I crawled into bed and assumed my favorite spot—snuggled up to Beth's back, my arm around her, my hand cradling her breast. I almost said something about being able to snuggle with no furry interference, but a sudden flash of common sense kept my mouth shut. I just held my lady until she fell into a restless slumber. I didn't sleep very well, either. I guess I was half expecting our little raider to pounce in the dark and had to admit to myself I missed it when he didn't.

The next morning I walked into the kitchen and found her sitting at the table, a scowl on her face. "You just couldn't wait to get rid of Pye's stuff, could you?"

Huh? "Beth, I only moved everything because I thought it would be easier for you."

"Yeah, you hoped I'd forget him faster so you threw everything out!"

"I didn't throw anything out. Everything is down in the basement. I'm going to miss him, too. I know it took me a little while to warm up to him, but it's not going to be the same without him around. Please believe me."

"Tommy, don't try to convince me you liked him. I know better!"

What the hell was this? "Beth, remember that day you came home and I was working on our vacation pictures? Where was he? On my lap, that's where! If I hated him as much as you think, would I have put up with that?"

"Tommy, just leave me alone!" she growled as she grabbed her coat and backpack. "Just leave me alone!"

"How about a trip to the Humane Society shelter? Maybe after school this afternoon?"

"So you think getting another cat is going to help? I loved that little furball and you're not going to replace him!"

"At least we know he'll be happy, being back with Judy, not lost out on the street somewhere! And I don't appreciate having you telling me I didn't like having him around!"

-------

I walked into Photography and Anse looked up.

"Having problems at home, Tommy?" he asked, nodding at my face.

I looked in the mirror and could still see Beth's handprint on my cheek. I really shouldn't have tried to convince her I'd liked our little furball.

I made it through my classes that day but I'm not sure how. Dammit, I knew Beth was hurting, but why take it out on me? After my Small Business Accounting class, I decided to take a break in the cafeteria. That's where Val found me sitting at a table by myself. "Tommy, did you talk to Beth?"

"Talk to Beth? Oh, Val, I didn't have a chance to." I explained about losing Pyewacket to his original person the night before and Beth's reaction this morning. "So I guess I kind of forgot. I'm sorry."

"Oh," Val said with a disappointed little pout. "I understand."

"Look, Val, I'll ask her next time I see her."

"That's a strange thing to say. Won't you see her this afternoon?"

"I-I don't know..." The next thing I knew I was unloading all my fears on Val. It was ironic that I was basically asking for help from the same girl who, a year before, would have been doing handsprings to find Beth and I were having problems. Or was she the same girl? She certainly seemed to have accepted that I could be a friend and not try to steal me away from Beth. And she definitely had it bad for Brad.

After classes I went to the lab room. I wasn't scheduled to work, but didn't really feel like going home, either. Perhaps giving Beth some time to cool off might be best. Chicken? Yeah, maybe ... a little, but one way or the other, I was going to find a way to convince her I missed our little furball as much as she did.

"Well, I didn't expect to see you today," Mr. Nordstrom said. "Are you here to work?"

"I guess so," I replied.

"Then let's see what you accomplished yesterday." I plugged my portable drive into the lab's computer and uploaded the images I'd worked on at home.

"Well, this first one, it seemed the shadows were a little too deep, so I changed the contrast curve..."

-------

When I got home about seven Beth wasn't there and it looked as if she hadn't been back since she marched out this morning. Just how much trouble was I in?

I tried to figure out how deep a pile of excrement I'd created for myself and finally gave up. Beth would be back or she wouldn't. What if she didn't come back?

I decided work was the only way to keep myself sane, so I fired up my computer and started in on my "homework." Loading each of the massive two-hundred-megapixel images into Photoshop and massaging them wasn't quick work and I had only finished a small portion of the ones I'd brought home when I must have drifted off.

<CRASH!>

My head came off the keyboard and my first thought was a car accident out on the street. Then I heard a string of inventive, if a little slurred, invective that I recognized. My princess was home.



-------

Chapter 6


I walked into the living room where I saw Beth looking down at a lamp in pieces on the floor. Luckily, it was one of the ugliest pieces of furniture we had—a spur-of-the-moment, thrift store purchase, its only purpose to help light a dark corner of the room. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it, the table it had been sitting on was a little unstable and stuck just far enough into the hallway that bumping it wasn't unusual. The fact that Beth wasn't real steady on her feet at the moment didn't help.

"Damn piece of shit! Now I gotta clean up the <hic> mess."

Hmm. Was my lady a little under the influence? As she tottered across the room I thought back to our experience on Bimini. Her current gait looked suspiciously similar to our trip back to the boat that memorable night.

"Hi, there," I said.

She spun around and almost fell over. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry, I just heard the crash and wanted to see what had happened."

"Looks like I broke that ugly damn lamp. D-do I get a kiss or a spanking for gettin' rid of it?" She teetered toward me, tripped and fell into my arms.

"Whee! Let's dance!"

"I think you better sit down before you fall down," I said as I steered her toward the nearest chair.

Suddenly her face changed. "Not gonna fall down. Gonna throw up," she mumbled as she pulled out of my grasp and ran/stumbled into the bathroom where I could hear her through the closed door conversing with Ralph O'Rourke.

With a sigh, I grabbed the broom and dustpan and swept up the remains of the lamp. By the time I got back from the garbage can Beth had finished in the bathroom. I found her collapsed—fully clothed—diagonally across the bed, snoring in a most un-ladylike rumble. I thought of my MP3 recorder—the one I used for taking notes in class. If I were really nasty ... Instead, I took pity on my inebriated lady, covered her with a blanket, and stretched out next to her.

Saturday morning I climbed quietly out of bed. Beth was lying in the same spot. She'd stopped snoring but a little line of drool was puddling on the back of her hand. I had a feeling she was going to regret last night when she finally woke up.

I was just opening the morning paper when something that had been picking at me popped into my head—why had Beth come in the front door last night? The back door was just steps from the garage. Unless...

From the kitchen window I could see that the garage door was closed, which proved nothing. I walked to the living room and looked out only to see Beth's ride sort of parked at the curb—if by parked you mean one wheel up on the curb and the rear of the Jeep at least two feet out in the street. With a sigh, I walked out, backed her vehicle off the sidewalk and pulled it into the driveway. Last night must have really been something. But what? I had a pretty good idea of the "why."

It was close to noon before my lady stumbled into the kitchen, her favorite ratty old bathrobe wrapped around her.

"Go ahead and say it," she said with a moan.

I sat there trying to decide whether I was more scared or angry at what had happened the previous night. I really wanted to unload on her, but I didn't see any purpose to it.

"Come on, Tommy, say something!"

"Thanks for taking out the lamp," I replied. "I never liked that damn thing."

Watching her expression change almost got me laughing—confusion, anger, with maybe a little bafflement tossed in, ending with relief.

"Oh, you goof!" she said as she landed in my lap. "Tommy, I really messed up last night, didn't I." I tried to ignore the feeling her wiggling was generating.

"Yes, you did. Where were you, anyway?"

"You knew I had a rehearsal last night. I told you yesterday before I ... Oh, shit, I didn't mention it, did I? I'm sorry."

"No, you didn't tell me, at least not about a rehearsal. You were too busy telling me what an unfeeling oaf I am and trying to ring my bell."

I saw her wince and almost felt bad for reminding her of yesterday's tantrum ... almost.

"Oh, God. Why do you put up with me? I was just so upset over losing Pye that I took it out on you even though you were just trying to help."

"Yes, you did. Beth, we're going to have to figure out why things like that happen. If you're going to think I'm always in the wrong maybe we don't belong together."

"Oh, Tommy! Don't say things like that! It's not funny!"

"It wasn't meant to be funny. I'm tired of always being your whipping boy."

A look of abject panic washed over her face.

"Beth, whenever something goes wrong, why am I always the one at fault?"

"Tommy, you're not! I ... oh, God. Am I really that bad? Always blaming you?"

I just sat there, looking at her as she thought back. I could tell when she admitted to herself that I was often the undeserving object of her anger. She got off my lap and walked across the kitchen from me then turned and looked back. "Oh, Tommy. I'm sorry," she said, tears in her eyes.

"What are you going to do about it?" I asked.

"I-I don't know. Please believe me, I don't mean it! I just ... I just..." she ran down.

"Beth, I know I'm wrong some times, but it gets tiring always being the fall guy when something happens. Did you really think I was happy when Pye went home with the Kowalskis, that I didn't want him around?"

She just shook her head.

"But you unloaded on me. Why?"

"I-I guess it was because I was really upset and you were here ... and ... and I knew you'd understand and forgive me." Her voice broke as she buried her face in her hands.

"Beth, what am I going to do with you?" I asked as I took her in my arms. Was she going to change? Was my face safe? Time would tell.

After she calmed down I figured it would be safe to grill her a little.

"So you went out with the gang after rehearsal, right? How is the Oily Cart group?"

"Same as ever. Steve has some ideas for a little more audience participation. More than just shouting ideas."

"So some poor schlub in the audience could end up like you did for your audition—dragged up on stage and dropped into a skit with no warning?"

"Yeah, sort of like that."

"Remind me to sit in the back." The thought of acting without a script terrified me.

"And I guess I had a couple of drinks," she added, sheepishly.

"Just a couple? Is that why you left the Jeep in the street?"

"I did?"

I just nodded.

"So THAT'S why I came in the front door..." she mumbled to herself. "And the lamp?"

"Took it right out. Best thing could that have happened to it," I chuckled.

"Tommy, it's not funny! God, I can't believe I drank that much. What if I'd been picked up on the way home?"

"I thought you were giving up drinking after our evening in Bimini? At least that's what you told Sue and Bob—that you weren't going to drink any more."

"I didn't mean to have anything last night, but everybody else did and I guess I let them talk me into it." I could tell the admission embarrassed her.

"So you let them talk you into drinking? Come on, Beth. When was the last time anybody talked you into doing something you didn't want to?"

"Well, there was that Saturday with the black bikini..."

"Damn it, Beth, I'm serious! If you drank last night it was because you wanted to, not because somebody talked you into it.

"I wish you would have at least called me. I could have picked you up. I'm sure the Jeep wouldn't be the first vehicle to be left in the lot overnight."

Beth looked even more uncomfortable. "Tommy, I-I couldn't call you ... I was too embarrassed."

"Embarrassed? Why?"

"Because of what I did to you. Tommy, once I calmed down I knew you missed that little furball as much as I did, but ... Oh, dammitall anyway!" she wound down. "I'm sorry. I really am."

"I know you are. Now just remember that the next time you're thinking of taking a couple layers off my face."

-------

I was loading one of the images from the catalog project when I remembered my conversation with Val and her request.

"Beth, I talked to Val this week and guess what? She's engaged!"

"She is? Great! Brad?"

'Yeah, he asked her over the summer and she asked me to ask you if you'd ... well ... Beth, she wants you to be her maid of honor." There it was, out in the open. Now what kind of reaction would I get?

Beth's face went through so many different emotions I couldn't keep up. After a few seconds I realized I was holding my breath. I hadn't meant to come right out and ask her, just do a little prep work for Val.

"Tommy, why me? I mean I really don't even know her that well."

"She sounded like she didn't know who else to ask. You know her family situation. I mean with her parents pretty much ignoring her. I guess they're not even going to come to the wedding, let alone pay for anything. She doesn't have any sisters and I don't know about cousins or anything like that. I guess you're the closest friend she's got."

"Should I do it?"

Nothing like sticking me on the hot seat. "Beth, I don't know. I mean it's really up to you, but I know Val would really appreciate it."

"I wonder if she'd be around today?"

"Call and find out."

Ten minutes later Beth was out the door and on her way to Val's. I wondered what the outcome would be.

I was in the garage cleaning out my Jeep when Beth returned. "Tommy, tell me if I'm crazy. I just told Val I'd do it."

"Why would that make you crazy? I mean, sure, with the way Val and I started off, I can see where some people might think it would be a little weird for you to accept her offer, but if you're comfortable with it, who cares what anybody else thinks?"

"How about you?" she asked.

"Me? Why should I be bothered?"

"Well, like you said, your first encounters with her were a little, er, uncomfortable."

"Yeah, but since the party where you talked to her she's acted more like a friend, not the predatory vixen I first met."

"So you don't have any problem if I do it?"

"Nope. I think there's a certain symmetry in the whole thing, since it was the two of us who sort of got them together in the first place.

"By the way, when is the wedding?"

"Oh, not until school's out next spring."

"You going to offer the farm or is that reserved for our wedding?"

Beth just giggled and grabbed me for what turned into some serious face time.

"AHEM. Are we interrupting something?"

We turned around and saw Cindy and Greg standing there with huge grins on their faces.

"Don't sneak up on people like that!" Beth said.

"Sneak up?" Cindy chuckled. "A brass band could have snuck up on the two of you!"

"So now that you interrupted Beth's attempt at seduction, what's up with you two?" I asked.

"Oh, not much," Greg replied. "At least not what's 'up' with you." The problem with friends is you can't kill them without getting talked about—even when they REALLY deserve it.

The next thing I knew the three of them had decided it had been a while since we'd been to the Pizza Palace and since I'd just done such a stellar job of cleaning out my ride, guess who was elected to drive?

-------

"Well, if it isn't the Four Musketeers," Jeanie said as we walked in. "It's been a while."

"Yeah, well, they've been keeping us pretty busy at school," Greg replied.

"Oh, let me get my violin!" Jeanie replied with a laugh. "I'd like to give you your favorite booth, but it's already taken," she added.

"Oh, that's okay," my lady said. "I hear the pizza's just as good out in the other room."

Jeanie took us to a four-top in the main room and left to get our drinks.

"Can you believe she's been here for over forty years?" Cindy said.

"Well, I have been." Cindy almost jumped out of her chair as Jeanie came up with our drinks. "But you won't have to put up with me much longer."

"Huh?" "What?" "Jeanie!" We all looked at our favorite waitress. "Are you retiring?"

"Yup. Gonna turn things over to the kids."

"The kids?"

"Yeah, Janine," Jeanie nodded at one of the other servers, "is my granddaughter-in-law and Albert, er, Alphonse, the manager, is my son."

The four of us just stared at her.

"Jeanie, what is this, a family affair?" Beth asked.

"Well ... yeah," she replied with a sheepish grin.

"I suppose I should come clean. You see, I bought this place about fifteen years ago. The original owner wanted to retire and gave me a chance to buy the place at a good price."

"Yeahbut, if you own it, why work as a waitress?" I asked.

"I like serving folks. I'm good at it and enjoy it. I almost didn't buy the place because I didn't want to have to do the paperwork all the time. I was afraid it would keep me off the floor, but my nephew's got an accounting degree and agreed to come onboard and take care of all the figuring."

"So this really IS a family restaurant," Beth said with a chuckle.

"Yup, I guess it is."

"Why did you keep it secret?" Cindy wanted to know.

"I didn't think everybody needed to know. It's not a secret, just something I've never made a point of telling everybody who walked in the door.

"Besides, people act differently when they know they're talking to the owner. This way I can get a better feel for how things are going."

The four of us looked at each other. What other surprises were in store for us?

"I wonder if our folks know?" Beth said after Jeanie took our order.

"About Jeanie retiring, or her owning the Palace?" I asked.

"Both."

Eventually Jeanie came back with our pies and we all dug in.

"So, what are you guys doing for Halloween?" Greg asked between bites.

Beth and I looked at each other. "Um, we really didn't have any plans," I replied. "I'm sure the frat rats will have their usual drunken blast, although I'm not sure where."

The previous year there'd been so many arrests for under-age drinking that the University had outlawed any alcohol in fraternity and sorority houses. Not that that was going to stop anybody from throwing a party that wasn't in one of the official houses. Plenty of fraternity guys were "townies" and I was sure finding a place off-campus wasn't going to tax anyone's ingenuity.

"Tommy," Beth said as she gave me one of her "pretty please" looks, "I was thinking about dressing up, staying home, and getting a bunch of candy for the neighborhood kids."

"Um, sure. What are you going to be this time?" I asked, thinking back to our first Halloween together and the sexy cat costume that I could hardly wait to tear off her.

"Oh, I don't know yet. I'm sure I can throw together something. How about you, Cindy?"

"Sounds like fun! Let's see what we can come up with!"

I looked at Greg and wondered if I was wearing the same look of trepidation he was. Our two ladies putting their heads together usually meant trouble for us poor, defenseless male-types. At least we had some time to get used to the idea.

Monday between classes I was sitting in the Institute's cafeteria with some of the other members of the project.

"Has anyone figured out why the Institute is doing the catalog?" one of the guys asked. "I mean, it's not like they're going to sell any of the pieces, so why spend the money?"

That started a general conversation. I noticed Anse didn't add anything at first. He was usually one of the first to toss out ideas, but not today. Until...

"You know how many rich patrons the Institute has? Or how much cash they give every year?"

Several shrugs from the group later he continued, "Maybe I'm just being cynical, but what if the catalog is just an advertizing piece aimed at the money people?"

"What do you mean?" Jolene Wilson asked.

"Think about it—they send copies of the catalog to their patrons with an introduction that hints about how the Institute has all these great pieces that it would love to be able to display, but they just don't have the room and if they got enough in donations they could add another wing, or even another building and they'd have space to display more."

We all looked at each other. Anse was the last person who we'd expect that kind of sneakiness from, but his idea made sense.

Just then Mr. Nordstrom walked up.

"Well, well. I hope you're discussing the project."

"Um, yeah," I said. "Somebody"—I didn't want to put Anse on the spot—"came up with an idea that the catalog is really just advertizing." Several others chimed in on the same line.

Mr. Nordstrom sat there—a grin growing as the comments flowed around the table.

"Tommy, did you come up with this?"

"Um, no sir. It was just something that came out of a conversation over the reason for the catalog."

"Well, whoever said it, they're right—at least in part. Publishing things like this serves several purposes and that's one of the big ones. Most people don't realize that a large portion of any museum's inventory is never on display. No organization has the facilities to put everything out, and a book like you're working on can be an effective nudge if it's presented properly."

I looked over at Anse and saw a proud little grin, although he never claimed the idea was his.

The rest of the group had left and I was just getting ready to get up when Val rushed in.

"Oh, Tommy, thank you!" she squealed as she wrapped her arms around me.

"Ah, you're welcome, but what for?"

"For convincing Beth to be in my wedding!"

"Val, I didn't convince her, just mentioned it to her. The rest was your doing."

We talked for another few minutes when Val got a look on her face that I recognized from my far-from-complete book on understanding women. I braced myself for her request.

"Tommy, would you take the photos at our wedding?"

I knew that question would come up some day. For all the commercial work and portraits I'd done no one had asked me to do a wedding. Up until now.

"Val, I've never done a wedding before. Are you sure you want me to do yours?"

"Oh, please, Tommy. It's only going to be a small wedding. I'd really appreciate it."

I almost started laughing over the look on her face. That combination of pleading and eager anticipation that pretty much assured I would agree. I wondered how many times Brad had faced the same look.

"Okay, Val, I'll do it, but there're a couple of things we've got to agree on first," I said as I tried to remember what I'd heard from the more experienced wedding shooters at school.

"Um, what kind of things?"

"I know it's traditional to do the formal pictures after the ceremony, but I'd prefer to do them beforehand. It just makes things easier. I mean, everyone is nice and fresh, nothing spilled or wrinkled, and your makeup will still be perfect.

"Another plus is giving everybody a chance to relax and get over the pre-wedding jitters. Oh, and that way there won't be any delay getting to the reception." And the food, I didn't add.

I could see Val mulling over what I'd said. "I guess that would work. I mean it's not like Brad won't have seen me before the ceremony, after all we're living together!

"I've got a request for you, too."

"What's that?"

"I don't want to see more pictures of Beth than of me!" she said with a grin.

"Hmm, I don't know. That could be a deal breaker," I replied with a matching grin.

"By the way, are you going to do a video of the ceremony?"

"Yeah, I already asked Fred Clark. He's going for a Video Production degree and he agreed to tape it for me."

Sounded like Val was going to save a bunch on her wedding. Or maybe not...

"Tommy, how much do you charge for doing a wedding?"

I was going to tell her there wouldn't be a fee when that little imp in my head gave me a swift kick. I was doing it again—trying to give away my work. Time to tap-dance a bit.

"Val, like I said, I've never done a wedding before so I'll have to do some figuring. Okay?"

"Okay, Tommy. Let me know. And don't try to low-ball me. I want to know what your regular price would be.

"Woops, I'm gonna be late for class!" she said as she jumped up, laid a smoldering kiss on me, and cruised out of the cafeteria with a hip-swinging gait that had the attention of every guy in the place.

As I got up and headed to my own class I wondered if maybe she'd accept the pictures as a wedding present? Or would even offering them be a mistake? I'd better check with Beth.

That evening we were sitting at the kitchen table, devouring the wings and other goodies Beth had picked up on her way home. I told her about Val's request.

"Let me guess, you offered to give her the pictures, right?"

"No, I didn't. At least not directly. I told her I'd have to figure out a price."

"And she said she wanted to pay your regular price, right?"

I just nodded. How does she do that?

"I know she doesn't have a lot of spare cash and is paying for everything herself, well, she and Brad are," I said.

"I can't believe her parents aren't even going to show up, let alone help out with any of the cost of the wedding. What kind of parents act like that? I know you said her folks wanted a boy, but still." Beth just shook her head.

"So do you think giving her the pictures as a wedding present would be a good solution?"

My lady got a thoughtful look on her face and didn't say anything for what seemed like an hour.

"Tommy, let's get them something else for a present. I think it's important to Val to know she paid for them. Remember her pride."

The next day I made it a point to check with some of the other kids who'd done weddings and was able to come up with what seemed like a fair price, and if I fudged a bit, who'd know? I saw Val the next day and gave her my price along with a list of pictures that the more experienced wedding photographers had come up with.

"Val, this is a general list of pictures that are common to most weddings. Look it over and cross out any you and Brad don't want and add any that you'd like that aren't on the list— a special friend or group shot. Things like that."

"Oh, Tommy, thank you! You don't know how much it means to have you doing the pictures. Just remember what I said about too many pictures of Beth!"

-------

The next few weeks were pretty much business as usual. Beth was spending her time at school and doing homework—with rehearsals with Oily Cart squeezed in—while I found myself in the project lab more and more as we moved closer to completing the catalog. Mr. Nordstrom had shifted me to shooting sculptures almost exclusively. That gave me more opportunities to pick his brain for different techniques. I felt as if I could almost write a book from all the notes I'd taken as we talked.

-------

Once more Beth wasn't giving away any secrets of what her costume would be. If I asked all I got was a big grin and an assurance that I'd like it. Hmm.

Halloween afternoon she and Cindy told Greg and me to get lost until five.

We'd just gotten back when the girls walked out of our bedroom. Walked? It was more of a slink that had Greg staring at the two of them.

"Something foxy this way comes," he intoned, almost as if it were a religious chant, as we were greeted by a couple of foxes—literally.

Both girls wore leotards that were a combination of reddish-brown on the back and white in front. With pointed little ears, drawn-on whiskers, and bushy tails pinned on just above their perfect butts. I looked at our ladies and hoped the candy giveaway didn't take too long.

The first few ghosts and goblins were young kids—toddlers, really—with a parent along for protection and reassurance. A couple of the younger ones took one look at our foxes and hid behind their mothers, at least until Beth and Cindy convinced them they weren't going to eat them.

As the evening rolled on I noticed more and more of the visitors looked less like kids and more like students our age. I guess the word was out about our two vivacious vixens.

After things quieted down the four of us were sitting on the porch.

"Greg, we missed a chance tonight," I said.

"Huh? What chance?"

"I should have gotten pictures of our two foxes. I could have made up trading cards and handed them out­—at least to the older guys."

"Yeah. We could do it every year. Come on, kids, collect the whole set!"

For some reason the distaff side of our foursome didn't think much of our idea.

Since it was still early Beth tried to convince us to find a frat party. Both Greg and I argued that we didn't have costumes, and besides, going out wasn't what we had in mind. With comments from the girls about horny guys it was decided to call it a night. Greg followed Cindy up the stairs, leaving a trail of saliva behind him. I had to admit he had more self-control than I'd had following Beth up the stairs in her parents' house on our first Halloween.

Once in the bedroom, Beth started to take off her costume.

"Oh, no you don't!" I said as I grabbed her hands.

"Tommy, I want to take a shower and clean off all this makeup! Now let me go!"

"Nope. Ain't going to happen. Not unless I can help!"

"Oh, I suppose. Otherwise you'll pout all night," she said, as she shook her foxy tail at me.

The shower was fun and once again I was thankful for our new water heater—plenty of hot water and no need to rush! I had an idea Greg was thinking the same thing.

Once we were both clean, I took special care to make sure I didn't miss any places drying off my foxy lady, then picked her up and walked to the bedroom. After I rolled her onto the bed and joined her, it turned out I'd missed one very damp spot. Since I didn't want to be accused of not being thorough, I spent plenty of time trying to correct my oversight, with lots of advice from you-know-who.

The following morning I opened my eyes and found myself staring into a pair of bottomless blue pools and remembered what a lucky SOB I was. Just as I was about to drown in those pools ... they disappeared!

"Come on, Tommy or we'll both miss our first classes!" my lady said as she rolled out of bed, taking the covers with her.

For the first time since I'd finished Grossfeldt's courses I really hated the idea of going to school.

That evening I was in the project studio after a long day of classes. In front of me was a tall modern sculpture—shiny black, with a lot of curves and cutouts here and there. This was going to be a mother to photograph.

I was beating myself up trying to come up with something that would show all the intricate angles and curves but not blow out the details with reflections off the glossy surface when I remembered the first job I did for Beth's folks.

Mr. Nordstrom watched me as I tried to figure out how to light the monster. "What's the matter, Tommy? You look like you're stumped."

I explained what I'd done with the valve bodies Chuck had challenged me to photograph.

"Ingenious solution, Tommy. Using a spray to cut the reflections. Unfortunately, I can't see the Institute letting you spray anything on one of their sculptures. Keep thinking." I had a feeling he already knew the answer but wanted me to figure it out for myself.

I walked around the piece again, muttering some of Beth's favorite imprecations under my breath. How to control reflections? Then it hit me.

"How about using a polarizing filter to eliminate the reflections?" I asked my instructor.

"Try it and see," he said with a little grin.

An hour later I admitted defeat. "This isn't working," I said. "If I set the filter to get rid of one set of reflections, it brings out another bunch!"

Eventually, I figured it out—take several shots with the filter adjusted to remove different reflections and combine the images in Photoshop. By selecting the right portion from each image I could end up with a complete, glare-free final picture. All I had to watch out for was to make sure I didn't move the camera—every picture had to be from the same viewpoint. Using the view camera on its heavy tripod and a cable shutter release simplified things a lot.

Once I had what I hoped was enough images, I downloaded them onto my thumb drive and looked over at Mr. Nordstrom. "Well?"

"Well, what, Tommy?"

"Is it going to work?"

He just grinned. "Looks like you're going to find out," was all he'd say.

Now I'm not one of those students who expects to be spoon-fed every answer, but sometimes the trial-and-error method of teaching gets old.

The following Monday I loaded my final image on the studio computer and waited for Mr. Nordstrom.

"Tommy, you did it. I'm proud of you!"

Now that kind of teaching I like!



-------

Chapter 7


It was the Friday before Thanksgiving and I was sitting in my studio photoshopping a couple of images for the catalog project when the doorbell rang. I opened the door and saw my brother and Gail standing there.

"Hi, guys! C'mon in."

As they walked past me I looked out to see who dropped them off, only to see a car I didn't recognize in the driveway.

"How'd you get over here?"

Kev lit up with a smile so bright I wished I'd had my shades with me. "I drove over in MY car!"

"Your car? How, I mean..." Then it hit me—my LITTLE brother turned sixteen just a week before and obviously wasted no time getting his license. I looked at the car in the driveway—a Honda hatchback that looked about fifteen years old. I thought back to my first beatermobile and had to say one thing for my parents—they were consistent.

Beth took Gail into the kitchen to "talk about fixing something to eat." Somehow I got the feeling the conversation would also include a few comments about Kev and me. Just so they didn't get on the subject of "fixing" us!

"You want to show me your ride?" I said, knowing that getting him to show off his new baby would be no problem.

"Tommy, I can't believe I've got my own car! I mean, I was so jealous of you when Mom and Dad bought you your car. It seemed like I'd never get my license and then to get the car, too!"

I was a little jealous myself. When I got my license it was almost six months before I got my own wheels. Maybe I'd bugged them so much before they finally broke down and bought my first beater that they decided to take the easy way out with Kev?

We walked out to the hatchback sitting in the driveway. Walking around it, I noticed it was in pretty good shape, without a lot of the rust most vehicles picked up from all the salt they put down on the roads every winter. The paint was in good shape and the tires looked brand new.

"So how does it run?"

"Just great!" he replied, getting in and starting it up—over-revving the engine the way some guys do.

"Kev, that's not a good idea. The engine will last a lot longer if you treat it right, and that means not punching the gas when you first start it. Give the oil a chance to start circulating first."

Looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he shut it off, jumped out and popped the hood to distract me. The engine looked to be in good shape, no obvious oil leaks, and the battery seemed almost new. I pulled the dipstick and saw the oil was fresh. Looked like my brother had himself a set of wheels that would get him through the winter and probably through the rest of high school, at least. I slammed the hood and walked around to the driver's door to see what the upholstery was like. While I was there, I glanced at the odometer—89,000 miles? Must have belonged to that mythical little old lady who drove it only to church on Sundays. I also saw it was a stick, not an automatic.

"So how long did it take?" I asked.

"Take? Take what?"

"For Dad to show you how to drive a stick," I replied. I knew the high school's driver training course didn't cover manual transmissions anymore so it must have fallen to Dad to teach him the intricacies of synchronizing the clutch and stick.

"Oh, Jeez, Tommy. I thought I'd never get it figured out! Every time I'd try to shift there'd be this God-awful grinding! Finally, I got it, but I'll bet we were in that parking lot practicing for three hours!"

"Yeah, I remember that, too. Dad's a pretty good teacher, though, isn't he."

"Well, he's patient, anyway."

By that time I'd worked around to the back of the car. Opening the hatch, I saw a blanket and two sleeping bags.

"Not much of a survival kit, is it?" I asked Kev.

"Survival kit? Oh, you mean for winter? C'mon, Tommy, I'm not going to be driving in the country, just around town. What do I need a survival kit for?"

"Wise up, little brother. Having the right stuff with you can save your life, even in town. Remember when Beth's Jeep got forced off the road and she and Cindy were stuck? That was in town, but it still could have killed them. Can you guarantee that won't happen to you? Huh? Well?"

Kev looked embarrassed. "Um, well, okay, what should I have?"

"For starters, an ice scraper and snow brush, remember, it snows in town, too. Haven't you heard Dad grumble about the idiots driving with their windows covered in snow? Do you want to be one of them? Then grab an old backpack or gym bag and start filling it up—matches, a candle, some food packs, another blanket, gloves ... Oh, hell, just google 'winter survival kit' and you'll get all sorts of advice and ideas. Talk to Dad and see what he's got for their cars, just don't forget!"

I heard him mumble something under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Oh, I came over here thinking you'd be all excited that I had my own car and all you do is yell at me. You're not so smart you know. I know some things you don't!" he challenged.

Something he knows that I don't? I wondered what he was talking about.

"Kevin, I'm not yelling at you, just trying to make sure you can handle what's coming. Maybe I'm a little nuts on the subject after what happened to Beth, but some of this is just common sense, like making sure your phone is charged. Oh, and if you do end up off in a ditch somewhere, make sure you stay with the car! It's a hell of a lot easier to find a car than a person stumbling around in a blizzard."

"Listen to what he says, Kevin. I wish I had."

We both spun around. The girls had walked up, unnoticed. No doubt attracted by all my "yelling" as Kevin put it.

"Beth, did you really think you were going to die out there?" Gail asked.

"Yeah, I did, and let me tell you, there's not much worse than thinking you're going to buy it over a stupid stunt like I pulled. I was so glad I had that space blanket with me and I can't even tell you why I grabbed it."

Gail looked at my brother. I could only imagine the conversation they were going to have.

"Anyway," my lady said, "we've got lunch inside if the two of you wanna-be mechanics are done out here."

Who was I to argue with such a sensible idea? Kev closed the hatch and we adjourned to the kitchen and the food.

Sitting around the kitchen table the conversation eventually came around to Kev's car, and what they could do with it, and in it, and on it.

"So," my lady asked, "have you driven out to the farm yet?"

From their expressions, we saw the answer was obvious, even when they started tap-dancing around how they didn't want to trespass.

"Am I going to have to check that blanket in the back of your new ride for crusty spots?" Gail's face answered that question.

"Hey, guys, don't worry about it! It's there, might as well put it to good use," Beth said with an ear-to-ear grin. Strangely, that didn't seem to relieve them very much.

"By the way, I saw a couple of sleeping bags in the back of your car. You might want to just leave them there for the winter, or do you have more current plans for them?"

"Um," Kevin glanced between Beth and me. "Um, I-we were wondering if we could maybe stay over here tonight?"

"Sure," my lady replied. "Any special reason?"

"Well," Gail looked at us. "Kevin promised to take me to that bookstore where he got that copy of The Wizard of OZ he gave me, but he doesn't know where it is, and can't even remember the name." The look she gave him was entirely too familiar—a combination of frustration and affection.

"You mean the Uncles. Well if you're going to stay tonight, why don't we plan on going over there tomorrow?"

"Tommy, you don't have to do that!" my brother protested. "You can just show me where it is on a map. Um, do you have a city map?"

"Kev, don't you even have a map?" His expression was answer enough. "Then add a map to the list of stuff for your car. Unless you're planning on putting a GPS unit into it?"

"Um, maybe some day. Right now I'm just trying to keep the gas tank full."

"Pick up a map."

We decided to spend the afternoon giving Gail and my brother a quick tour of where we spent most of our days. Beth led the way as we walked around the University campus and I gave them a quick tour of the Art Institute. By the time we were done, all four of us were in the mood for food again.

"I've got just the place!" Beth exclaimed. "Do you like Oriental food?"

Kevin and Gail looked at each other. "Um ... you mean like chow mein?" Kev asked.

"Well, something like that," my lady answered.

"Sure, sounds good," they answered.

"Great! There's a little place just off campus. You'll love it!"

We were looking at the menus when Gail snickered, "Poo Poo? Um, they don't mean that, do they?"

"Of course. It's considered a delicacy in some parts of the world," I replied with as straight a face as I could manage.

I should have remembered the elbow.

"Tommy, cut it out!

"Don't worry, Kev," my lady reassured him. "It's just an appetizer platter—egg rolls, chicken wings, things like that."

"Why did they call it THAT?" Gail wanted to know.

"Just a difference in languages, I guess. Most places spell it 'Pupu.' My dad says it originally started in Hawaii. So it's probably an Hawaiian word," Beth answered. "Let's order a couple and see what we get."

Despite their trepidation over the name, the pair had no problem once the trays of food arrived. Beth and I managed to grab a couple of things off one of the platters before the locusts devoured the rest. When the platters were empty I counted my fingers just to make sure I hadn't lost any in the flurry.

By the time we finished eating and got back to the duplex, everybody was ready to call it a night. The kids rolled out their sleeping bags and I exercised great restraint in not reminding them that the bags could be zipped together.

Once we were in bed, Beth rolled over to face me. "Tommy, you really read Kevin the riot act today about being prepared for winter."

"Yeah, I guess I did. I just don't want to have to go through with him what I did with you."

My lady had the grace to look a little embarrassed as I pulled her close.

The next morning the four of us grabbed a quick breakfast and loaded into Kev's car. I was going to offer to drive, but figured he'd have a better chance of remembering where the place was if he drove. Besides, I figured he'd want a chance to show off his new ride.

I had always thought my lady was the world's biggest bibliophile, but I might have to revise my opinion. When we walked into the two bookstores, I swear Gail had an orgasm. An hour later, we finally escaped, each with a bag of goodies. I was a little surprised to see Kevin was almost as avid a book buyer as Gail—I remembered Mom and Dad constantly battling to get him to read. Apparently Gail's love of reading was rubbing off.

"Tommy, who are Uncle Edgar and Uncle Hugo?" Gail asked, referring to the stores' names.

"Edgar Allan Poe and Hugo Gernsback."

"I know who Poe is, so I guess a mystery bookstore named for him would make sense, but who is Gernsback?

"He was a writer and publisher in the early part of the Twentieth Century and started the first science fiction magazine, so what else would you name a store devoted to science fictions books? He got involved in radio and early television, too."

Gail just nodded

Since book shopping was such hard work, I was informed by my brother that food was in order. I directed him to a restaurant we'd tried before. I had an ulterior motive—the place was about a mile down one of the busiest streets in the area and I wanted to see how well Kev could navigate through traffic. He turned out to be a better driver than I suspect I'd been when the ink was still wet on my license.

Kev and Gail left shortly after we got back home and Beth and I spent the rest of Saturday afternoon cleaning the apartment. What fun.

The following Thursday was Thanksgiving and the whole gang— Beth and me, my parents and brother along with Gail and her mother—were going to be celebrating at Chuck and Bev's this year. My lady was bringing two of her pumpkin pies so our place smelled like heaven Wednesday night. It took dire threats on her part to make sure both pies made it untouched through the night. Beth's pumpkin pies were something special.

When we got to Beth's parents' house my folks were already there and Kev pulled up just as we were walking up the driveway. I hid a little smirk when I saw him jump out of the car and run around to open the doors for Gail and her mom. That earned me a gentle nudge in the ribs.

"Quit smirking. Just because he learned it from you."

How does she do that?

Beth and Mrs. Hanson immediately joined the two moms in the kitchen. I wandered out to the sun room where Chuck and my dad were talking computers and software. Chuck had just added a couple of new CNC machines and the two of them were deep into a discussion on numeric control stuff. When I heard them mention "G code" several times I almost interrupted. I mean, a G spot, sure, but G code?

I gently cleared my throat.

"Oh, hi, Tommy!" Chuck said. "Help yourself to the goodies." I looked over at the table and saw it was piled with crackers, cheese, a bowl full of punch, and all the other pre-feast eats.

"I could never figure out why we'd need all this stuff when we're going to be sitting down to a huge meal in a few minutes. I made the mistake of asking once and just got 'the look' from Bev," he added.

By that time, Kev had joined us and quickly loaded a plate.

"You remember when you could eat like that?" my dad asked Chuck.

"Oh, yeah. I'm not quite that senile yet," he chuckled.

"Okay, everybody, it's time to eat!" Bev said from the doorway a few minutes later. "Kev, put down that plate and come to the table!"

I glanced at Chuck and got a grin in return. It didn't have to make sense, it just was.

"So how is your special project coming, Tommy?" Chuck asked after we'd finished the feast Bev had prepared.

"Pretty good. I never realized how much work goes into catalog-type photography. It's been quite an education, which is the point, I guess."

"Are you learning anything useful?"

"Oh, yeah, I've picked up a lot of new lighting techniques already," I said, thinking back to all the time I'd spent on that one sculpture. We talked about school for a while with Beth getting as much of a grilling as I did. Kev and Gail sat there looking relieved that someone else was on the hot seat for a change. The funny thing was, the questions didn't have the same edge I remembered from when I was in high school. Was that a change in my perspective, or was everybody just treating me more as an adult?

Eventually, Bev got up. "Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm dying to try some of Beth's pies. Any takers?" Silly question.

-------

Monday it was back to school, and the thought of getting back to work on the project made getting through Accounting almost bearable. I knew understanding finances was a necessity for running a business but I thought Jeanie had the right idea—hire a relative whose idea of fun was making up Excel spreadsheets all day long.

"Well, gang, we're almost done with our part of the catalog," Mr. Nordstrom announced when we were all in the studio. "We've got only a few more items and then the GA folks can take over." The kids in the Graphic Arts program would be doing the layout of the book itself. I'd have liked to help on that part of the project just to get a feel for what went into the layout and publication side of things, but life was complicated enough with classes and keeping up with my growing list of clients. I was amazed at how much business I was getting from referrals. Looked like keeping people happy was good for business. Not to mention my sideline with my tripod adapters. That reminded me to stop in and see Joe at the photo shop to ask if it was time to order another batch.

-------

Things rolled along just fine until the week before Christmas and Winter Break. Beth had volunteered to have everybody over for Christmas Eve dinner, and her fidget level was reaching max even though everyone was helping out with something. My mom was bringing the au gratin potatoes, Gail volunteered the deserts, Bev, the salads, and she and Chuck were providing the ham—all we had to do was fix it. Well, that and supply the relishes and all the pre-meal goodies.

The bomb dropped Saturday morning.

"Tommy, it's your turn to do the shopping. I've got a list on the fridge."

Oh, frabjous day! I'd get to spend the morning going up and down the aisles of the local grocery store. I grabbed the list and ran upstairs before I left; I figured as long as I was making the trip, I might as well see if Greg or Cindy needed anything.

This was going to be a big trip and somehow it ended up my turn to hit the store. When I got there I grabbed a cart and started down the first aisle. My organized lady always wrote her list in the same way the store was arranged so at least I didn't have to run back and forth. The only thing I picked up that wasn't on the list was a jar of pickled herring to surprise my dad.

I was almost done when I dead-stopped at the last item. Why couldn't Beth get these things for herself? I sighed and turned down the aisle with the feminine hygiene items. I'd just picked up a couple of packages to see if I could figure out which one Beth wanted when...

"I always knew you were a pussy, Randahl."

SHIT! I put the boxes down and turned around to face a sneering Jason Williamson III, my old nemesis from high school.

"Hello, Jason. What are you doing back here?"

"I returned to discuss some financial options with my father. Nothing you'd understand."

Hmm, the same story as our last meeting. I'd bet his "financial options" included begging for more allowance.

"Well, I'm sure Beth will be sorry she missed you. I'm certain she'd like to continue her discussion from your last meeting." Nasty? Sure, but I couldn't resist reminding the snob of the day his goons had to drag his unconscious carcass off our front yard. Besides, it was fun watching all the color drain from his face as he thought back to that afternoon when Beth tried her best to turn him into a soprano.

"Some day, Randahl, you're going to regret tangling with me, you and that bitch you're shacking up with!" he snarled.

And your little dog, too! I thought with a grin as he stomped off.

I got through the checkout line and was loading everything into the car when I realized I never had picked up that last item. I walked back into the store, grabbed what I HOPED was the right thing and waited in line where I swore the two women behind me were snickering. The chuckle from the good-looking girl at the register didn't help. Neither did my red face.

"Please don't ask me to do that again!" I growled after I got home.

"What? What happened?" Beth asked.

I told her about my run-in with Jason the Turd and my second trip through the checkout line and could tell by the barely-suppressed grin I wasn't going to get much sympathy.

"Poor Tommy. Always getting in trouble over us women, aren't you," was her only comment.

-------

"Tommy, you gotta help me!" I'd answered the phone to find my brother in full panic mode on the other end.

"Kev, what's wrong?"

"Can we come over? Is Beth there? Can she help Gail?"

"Whoa! Slow down. What's going on?"

Eventually, I got the story out of my brother. Although Gail had volunteered to handle the desserts, she'd assumed her mother would help. It didn't take Mrs. Hanson very long to put her daughter straight—you volunteered, you do the work. Apparently Gail had no problem with the mince pie, but the pumpkin was a different story.

"Kev, let me check with Beth. Remember, she's got a lot to do, too."

"Sure, have them stop over. I can use the extra hands." Beth responded when I relayed Kev's request.

He and Gail showed up half an hour later with a bag full of baking stuff.

"Beth, thanks so much for helping me!" Gail said as soon as they got in the door.

"I'm glad I can help," my lady said. "What are you trying to make?"

"Well ... I made a mince pie already and, if it would be okay, I'd like to make a couple of your pumpkin pies. I asked Mom how you made those great pies and she said she didn't have any idea and I don't want to mess them up!"

"Oh, I've got a couple of secrets I learned from my grandmother. I don't think she'd mind if I share them. After all, you're almost family. So, let's start with the crust..."

Kev looked at me as I motioned to him to follow me. Personally, the only interest I had in pies was eating them.

"And just where do you two think you're going?"

Damn, caught!

"Tommy, as long as the two of you don't have anything else to do, why don't you set the table. Use the lace tablecloth I got from Grandma Joan, it's in the top drawer of the buffet. Oh, and don't forget to put the pad underneath!"

Kev looked at me and all I could do was shrug.

About the time we finished getting all the dishes and silverware on the table the smells coming from the kitchen had both our stomachs rumbling.

"Hey, ladies, are you close to a stopping spot? We're willing to buy lunch if you can cut loose for a while."

Gail looked at Beth.

"Sure, as soon as the pies come out of the oven," my lady replied. "Where are you taking us?"

"How about a pupu platter?" I said with a grin, remembering the last time we'd gone out for a meal together.

"How about burgers?" Kev replied.

"Gee, I don't know ... finding a burger joint near a college campus?" Beth's elbow reminded me I shouldn't pick on my "little" brother.

"Why don't you two go change the oil in the car or something until the pies are done?" Gail said. Sounded like our sterling company wasn't required.

I "remembered" something I wanted to show Kev in the garage. Just as we walked out of the house we saw our neighbor George, walking across the alley. "Hi, Tommy! Who's this?"

"George, this is my brother, Kevin. Kev, this is George Jeffers. He's lived here his whole life. He was living here when Beth's folks first brought her home from the hospital." My brother looked impressed. George just grinned.

"So what's up, George?"

"I'm going on another cruise!"

"Um, isn't it a little off-season for Alaska?"

He gave me a "wise-ass kid" look. "The Caribbean, Tommy, not Alaska."

"So when are you leaving?"

"Monday. I'll be gone for two weeks and I was wondering if you could keep an eye on things? I've already stopped the mail and the paper."

"Sure, and if we get any snow while you're gone we'll even have the shoveling done for you when you get back." Greg and I had helped blow out George's driveway more than once. As long as we were doing ours it was no hardship to trundle the snow blower across the alley and catch his.

"Thanks, Tommy. And to think I wasn't sure about you when you first moved in!"

Just then Beth stuck her head out the door. "Come on, you guys. We're hungry. Oh, hi, George! Would you like to join us for lunch?"

"Thanks anyway, Beth. I've got to pack!" he answered with a wave.

"Pack?" Beth looked at me. I explained about George's travel plans. "I wish we could go to the Caribbean again," I said with a sigh as we got in Beth's Jeep. My brother had a funny little smirk on his face. I was going to ask him what was so funny when Beth asked where we should eat.

"How about Annie's?" I suggested. "They've got the best burgers."

"Or we could stop at the Tokyo Café," Beth threw in with an evil little look.

"What's that?" Gail asked.

"Oh, they've got great shrimp tempura and some of the best sushi in town."

"Sushi?" Kevin looked at me. "Isn't that raw fish?"

"Yeah, it's really good," I added.

Kev shuddered at the thought. "Um, maybe burgers like we talked about?" His reaction reminded me of my attitude before Beth introduced me to the California rolls at the Tokyo.

"Okay, burgers it is!" I said as Beth pulled out of the garage.

Annie's was upstairs in one of the commercial buildings that clustered around the main entrance to the campus. We found a spot in one of the lots close to the restaurant and hustled down the street. It wasn't snowing, but the wind had picked up and we wanted to get out of it as soon as we could. As we climbed the stairs Kev looked around. "How'd you find this place?"

"You mean besides the big sign outside? I guess it's just common knowledge around here—if you want great burgers, Annie's is the place to go."

We ordered burgers, malts and a single order of fries.

"Tommy, why didn't you let me order some fries, too?" Kevin asked after the server left with our order.

"Kev, wait until you see the size of the order, believe me, there'll be enough for all of us.

"So, Gail, did Beth help you out with your pie problems?"

"Yeah, she even showed me a family secret. Now my pies will taste as good as hers!"

Our malts arrived first and both kids looked at the tall malt glasses our server had scooped full with malts the consistency of concrete, and then at the cans, which were still half full. I remembered my first trip here and knew exactly how they felt. Beth and I had wisely decided to split one between us.

When our burgers and fries came Gail looked at mine. "Tommy, I thought you didn't like onions? Why did you order a Plaza Burger? It's covered in them!"

"I know. There's just something about the combination of sour cream and raw onions that I just can't resist."

"I'm glad you told me not to get our own order of fries," Kev said as he stared at the huge basket sitting in the middle of the table. Between the burgers, malts and fries I wouldn't have been surprised if the two of them didn't eat anything until Christmas Eve.

"Why do they even give us straws?" Kevin asked a few minutes later as he scooped the last of his malt into his glass. Since most of the drink was still too thick to pour, he had a valid point.

Back at the house Beth and Gail started talking about the best way to fix the ham. "Beth, I've got a little secret of my own on a special glaze for the ham. All you have to do is..."

As our ladies disappeared into the kitchen, Kev and I beat a strategic retreat to my studio.

"So what's this project you're working on?"

I showed him some of the pictures I'd taken and explained the reason for the catalog.

"Tommy, are you sure you can't do one of your special pictures for Gail and me?"

Here we go again. "Kev, no, I can't. I'm sorry, but with the way the kiddy-porn police are carrying on I just can't chance it."

He and Gail left an hour later with a promise to be on time the next afternoon.

-------

I woke up Christmas Eve morning to great smells from the kitchen.

"Mmm, smells good," I said as I wrapped my arms around the cook.

"Oh, good, you're just in time! Grab the relish tray and then get the stuff from the fridge and..."

 ... and the rest of the morning was a blur of food preparation and last minute panics. This was the first big family celebration Beth and I had hosted and I couldn't remember a time when my princess had been so keyed up—not even before a show.

About one the gang started arriving with Kevin, Gail, and her mother leading the parade. "See, I told you we'd be on time," my brother whispered to me as they walked in. Gail had decided it wouldn't make much sense to take the pies Beth had helped her bake home with her only to turn around and bring them back the next day, so they arrived with only the mince pie Gail had made at home. Obviously, this left her feeling a little guilty.

"Beth, it seems like I should have brought more. I feel like you did most of my work when you had so much of your own to do."

"Gail, don't worry about it. I was happy to help. After all, I got plenty of help when I started learning how to bake, so this was sort of payback."

My folks and Beth's were just behind my brother so by two everyone was present and hungry. Bev and my mom had joined Gail and her mother in the kitchen to help Beth finish whatever needed finishing. I had volunteered my help, but was told to keep the other guys company. I wasn't going to argue.

My dad had spotted the bowl of herring as soon as he walked in and wasted no time in stacking the fish "delicacy" on a bunch of Ritz crackers.

"Chuck, you've got to try some of this!" Dad enthused, waving to the dish of pickled fish chunks. Beth's dad took a cracker and selected a small piece of herring. With a look that I assumed was a lot like mine the first time I tried sushi, he took a tentative bite.

"Damn, this is good!" he exclaimed, reaching for another cracker. My dad's grin could have lit up the room. Kev and I just looked at each other as we stuck with cheese and sausage on our crackers. We also grabbed some of the carrot and celery sticks Beth had put out to try to balance things a little bit.

Once the four of us had plates full of goodies we sat in the living room and the grilling began.

"So, Tommy, how is school going?" Chuck asked. I gave him a quick update on the catalog project and then it was Kev's turn in the bucket. He had caught the theatre bug from me and was doing lighting for the shows. Also like me, he'd spent as little time on stage as possible.

"So how are you and Mr. Franks getting along?" I asked him.

"Pretty good. He's a great teacher. As a matter of fact, I'm thinking of taking his Intro to Theatre course next year."

I noticed the parade of food coming from the kitchen just before Beth announced that dinner was served.

The ham was perfect. Whatever secret Gail had passed to my lady certainly worked—the ham was delicious. Mom's au gratins were great as always, the salads Bev brought didn't last long, and Gail's mom brought some home-made lefse—sort of a Scandinavian tortilla made from potatoes. None of the rest of us had ever seen it before so we watched as she spread butter on one of the thin sheets, sprinkled it with brown sugar, and rolled it up. Suddenly, we were a table full of Vikings. Yum!

As Beth and Gail were serving the pies the phone rang. Greg was calling to ask if I minded if they stayed at his parents' house overnight. Since we were handling transportation the same way as last year, Greg and Cindy were using my Jeep until Spring. Greg's car was back under the big blue tarp next to the garage and Cindy had given up trying to get her car back from her younger sister.

"Tommy, the snow is piling up like mad and I really don't want to chance it."

I glanced out the window and saw what he meant. When everyone showed up the snow hadn't started, but while we were eating it caught up with a vengeance—there must have been at least a foot on the ground and the wind was picking up, cutting visibility to less than the distance across the street. "Sure, no problem. See you tomorrow."

"Who was that?" Beth asked.

"Just Greg. They're going to stay at his folks tonight. Take a look outside."

Beth glanced out the window and must have had a flashback to the night she and Cindy got stuck with her Jeep—her face went pale and she started to shiver. "I hope you told them to stay there!" she said.

I assured her I had, then turned to our guests.

"Um, folks," I said, "I think you'd better plan on staying here tonight." Chuck and my dad looked out and groaned.

"I think Tommy's got it right," Chuck said. "Now, who gets to sleep with whom?" he chuckled.

I thought about it—sleeping space added up to our queen-sized bed, a futon in my studio, the living room couch, and plenty of floor space.

Test time for my brother. I was curious whether he paid any attention to my little speech at Thanksgiving. "Hey, Kev, have you got any sleeping bags in your car?"

"Yeah, two of them. Should I go get them?"

"Unless you want to sleep on the bare floor..." I replied.

"We've got a couple too," Dad said.

"So do we," Chuck added.

"So who gets the beds and who gets the floor?" Bev asked.

"Well," Kev suggested hopefully as he shrugged into his parka, "Gail and I and Tommy and Beth could use the floor."

Dad gave him a you-really-think-you're-going-to-pull-that-off? look. "And how about the rest of us?"

And the discussion started.

Finally, an agreement of sorts was reached: The three moms would share our bed, Gail and Beth would get the futon, and we he-men types could fight it out over the couch and the sleeping bags on the floor. Kev looked as unhappy as I did about not being able to cuddle with his lady, but we didn't have a whole lot of choice.

The four of us drew straws to see who got the couch—Dad won.

One of the drawbacks to our home was that it had only a single bathroom, but eventually everyone had a chance in there and the house settled down.

For a long winter's nap?



-------

Chapter 8


Between being forced to spend the night in a sleeping bag on the floor and not having Beth with me I didn't think I'd ever get to sleep. After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours I finally drifted off. Some indeterminate time later, I woke up realizing I'd had too much Coke and coffee that night. I got up and followed the night light we'd plugged in just outside the bathroom to make navigation easier for everyone. As I passed the closed French doors to my studio I could hear Beth and Gail giggling. What did those two girls have to talk about that could keep them up all night?

After finishing my business, I opened the bathroom door and bumped right into Beth's mom, obviously waiting her turn for the little room. In the dim illumination of the nightlight all I saw were her long legs—almost as long as her daughter's—disappearing under what I recognized as one of my pajama tops and that little imp who resides in my head wondered if she had anything on underneath.

"Oops, sorry," I whispered as I stepped out of Bev's way. As she closed the door she glanced down. "Why, thank you, Tommy," she said with a wink.

Why did she thank me? That's when I realized an unintended, unexpected, and unwanted "friend" had decided to make an appearance. I tiptoed my way back to my sleeping bag and lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling I couldn't see. How the hell was I going to tell Beth about this? It didn't even occur to me NOT to tell her. Not with her ability to read my mind.

I must have drifted off because the next thing I knew I was getting kicked in the kidney.

"Oops! Sorry, Tommy," Kev said as he stepped over me.

I dragged my sorry butt out of my bag and pulled on yesterday's clothes. As soon as the ladies were done in the bedroom, I'd change into something more appropriate for heavy labor—one glance out the window told me I'd be spending most of the day behind the snow blower.

I stopped in the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee and a kiss. Fortified by my morning pick-me-ups I pushed the back door open enough to squeeze through, shovel in hand. I started by shoveling out the drift just outside the door and then aimed for the garage and the snow blower.

There was probably an average of eight inches of the white stuff, with drifts getting close to four feet. Shoveling a single path the thirty feet to the garage took almost an hour, including burrowing through the drift outside the passage door. Once more I wished the garage was attached to the duplex.

I filled the big red monster with gas, opened the main garage door, and shoveled just enough to get the blower outside.

Kevin walked out in his high-tops and parka. "Hey, Tommy, do you have another pair of boots I can borrow?"

"Nope, just the Sorels I'm wearing. If you'll give me a bit I'll blow a path to your car. You DO have a pair of boots in the car, right?"

The look on my brother's face gave me the answer.

"Well, you're just going to have to shovel in what you've got. Didn't Dad say anything about keeping a pair in the car?"

"Yeah, but I guess I didn't think buying a pair just for the car made any sense. I guess I goofed, huh?"

"Ya think? Go ask Dad if you can use his." Since everybody had parked in the driveway I could blow a path down one side of the cars which would give my brother access to my dad's survival stuff. Until then, Kev would just have to freeze his toes.

A half-hour later I'd cleared a path on both sides of the cars and started on the end of the driveway. The plows had been through and left a mountain of snow—too much for the blower, so it was back to the shovels. Kev had scrounged Dad's boots out of their car and joined me.

"Oh, jeez, Tommy. I just thought of something. I'm gonna have to do this all over when we get home!"

We finally scooped out enough snow that I could get the blower to clean things up.

"I'm going in for a while," Kev announced.

"Not yet. Start shoveling behind the cars so everybody can get out." With a theatrical groan he tackled the pile behind Bev and Chuck's BMW, being very careful where he swung the shovel. I think he was worried about what would happen if he scratched Chuck's baby.

Eventually we managed to clear enough snow to allow everyone to get their cars out of the driveway. Getting home might be a bit more problematic—not all the streets were clear yet.

Kev and I got in the house, kicked off our boots and walked into the kitchen to find lunch waiting—ham sandwiches, of course. Looked like there wouldn't be a lot of leftovers to worry about!

"Boys, that was a pretty good job out there. Do you hire out?" Chuck said with a grin. He'd offered to help Kev and me, but I told him we could handle it, so he and Dad went back to discussing G spots, er, codes.

My brother got a panicked look when he thought of doing their long three car driveway until Chuck let him off the hook, "Don't worry, Kev. I've got a service to plow it out." My brother got a hopeful look only to get let down by a shake of Dad's head.

Eventually everybody packed up and headed home, leaving Beth and me to relax for the first time in two days. We sat down on the couch intending to watch a little tube and woke up just in time to see Greg and Cindy pull in. I went out and helped Greg clean out the rest of the driveway.

"Should we do George's?"

"Oh, lets wait for tomorrow. I'm still tired from doing my folk's house," he said. Sounded good to me.

That night, when Beth and I climbed into bed, I was still trying to figure out the most painless way to tell her about my encounter with her mom and wasn't coming up with anything.

"Tommy, you wouldn't believe what Mom told me!" she said when we were snuggled in. "She said she saw you last night and you seemed to be having a problem with your shorts. Sort of like that first Friday night in my room?"

"Um, err..."

My lady started giggling. "Tommy, are you embarrassed? You are!" Her giggles turned into a full-throated laugh. "Tommy, don't be. Mom was thrilled that she could still have that effect on a younger guy."

"I can't believe it happened. I didn't mean anything, it just happened."

"Oh, I know why it happened. Remember, I've seen your reaction to girls in guys' clothes before."

I couldn't think of a good answer to that so I wisely kept my mouth shut and just pulled Beth closer for my best Christmas present.

The next morning Greg and I walked out to the garage to get the blower so we could do George's driveway. When I opened the door something didn't look right.

"What the heck?" Greg said, staring into the gloom. "Looks like something's blocking the back window."

We fired up the snow blower and cleared a path to the alley. I glanced at the back of the garage and saw why no light was getting through the window—the alley had been plowed leaving a six-foot pile up against the back wall of the garage. I cleared the snow away from the window and hoped the wall would stand up to the pressure against it.

"Greg, Winter's just started. If we get any more snow where are they going to put it?" He just shook his head.

We did George's driveway and sidewalk in a couple of hours and were ready to quit. After putting the blower away, we trudged to the house, set the shovels next to the door, and walked into the nice warm hall.

"I don't know about you, but I'm ready for food!" Greg said.

"Let's get the girls and run out for something."

"How about just staying here?" Beth was standing in the kitchen. "It's too nasty on the roads. I'm sure we can find something here."

I glanced at Greg.

"Sounds good. Let me run up and grab Cindy."

Ten minutes later the four of us were munching on sandwiches—ham, of course—and the rest of the leftovers, including some goodies Cindy brought down. As we finished eating Cindy giggled, "You guys want to hear something funny?

"You know the family that claimed your kitten? Well, it turns out we're related! Fran Kowalski and my dad are distant cousins of some sort. How's that for weird?"

"You know," Beth said, "I wondered about the last names being the same, but, well, you remember how crazy I got when they took Pye? I guess I just sort of zoned it out." I cringed, thinking back to how torn up she was when she lost her kitten. And how she took it out on me.

We were lucky the rest of the week—no more snow!

Beth's improv group was having a New Year's Eve performance so that took care of having to plan a party or anything. Greg and Cindy were coming, as were Kevin and Gail, so we figured on a fun evening.

"So are you really going to sit in the back row?" my lady asked me as we were waiting for my brother and his lady to get to our place.

"It IS tempting, but I could just see you talking one of the group into finding me anyway, so I might as well sit down front." The grin I got in response was all the answer I needed to know I was right.

Kev and Gail showed up just as Cindy and Greg walked downstairs.

"Ready to go?" I asked.

"Yeah. Where are we going to eat?" This from my brother.

I looked at Greg. "How about Annie's?" Beth and I had discussed this earlier. A lot of the places around the campus would be jammed and we thought Annie's wouldn't be too bad—at least we hoped not.

"Sounds good to me," he replied. Cindy's enthusiastic nod told me they were okay with the idea. Gail and Kev made it unanimous.

Kev offered to drive. Since there wouldn't be room for all six of us, Greg said he and Cindy would meet us there.

We lucked out—Annie's wasn't totally jammed. We were seated right away and our server came over to take our orders. My brother obviously remembered his last experience and ordered a malt and two glasses. Along with our burgers we decided to split one order of fries amongst the six of us.

"You sure you don't want an order of your own?" I kidded Kev, who kicked me under the table at the same time my lady gave me the elbow.

After we'd eaten we told Cindy and Greg we'd meet them at the auditorium. In nice weather it wouldn't have been a bad walk, but between the snow still piled all over and the falling temperature, driving to one of the on-campus lots sounded like a better idea.

As we waited in the lobby for Cindy and Greg, Gail looked at Beth. "Is this the kind of show where they drag people up on stage?"

"Oh, we rarely have to resort to dragging," Beth said with a straight face. From Gail's look I don't think that was a whole lot of reassurance.

Greg and Cindy walked in about then. Beth left to get ready and the five of us took our seats—right down front and damn the torpedoes!

The show started pretty much like the last one—with one of Flanders and Swann's ditties followed by a couple of set pieces, then it was time for the first audience request. Beth and Phil were two freshman who were mistakenly assigned the same dorm room. As soon as they met Phil's character loved the idea and tried to talk Beth into keeping things as they were. Beth's, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with it and approached the dorm administrator. Asking to be reassigned to another room, she was met with predictable bureaucratic idiocy. Even the fact that Beth's character would be the only woman on an all-male floor had no effect. The crowd—mainly college kids, many of whom were dorm residents—loved it.

Next up was the first audience participation set. Jenny stepped off the stage and headed right for us. I glanced at Gail and saw the mounting panic in her face. At the last second Jenny veered off and grabbed some unsuspecting victim from the back of the house. Gail let out a relieved sigh that almost had the curtains at the side of the stage blowing in the breeze.

After a short intermission, it was Steve's turn to pick someone from the crowd. As he wandered around as if trying to decide whom to choose, I watched my lady. It didn't take long to realize one of us was going to end up in the barrel.

Steve walked up to Kevin. "Come with me," he said. With a panicked look on his face, my brother walked to the stage, looking a lot like a victim of the French Revolution approaching the guillotine.

The bit had Kevin as the holder of two tickets to a concert that two girls—Beth and Jenny—would do anything to attend. They did everything in their power to divest him of the tickets. As they rubbed, patted and cooed, Kev stood there trying to hide the fact that the girls' actions were having a pointed effect on him. I glanced at Gail next to me and was almost ready to remind her it was a comedy skit, not reality. She looked ready to storm the stage, fists swinging, to either rescue her man or kill him. The bit ended with the girls dropping their victim as soon as they got his tickets. Kev stumbled off the stage and plopped down next to Gail, who got up and moved to the end of the row, grabbing a seat next to Cindy. My brother sat there with a confused look, one that I'm sure every guy in the place would have recognized.

When the show was over Gail asked Cindy if she could get a ride with them. Greg looked ready to ask why until Cindy gave him an elbow. As they walked out, my brother looked ready to follow them until I put a hand on his arm.

"Kev, just let it be. Cindy will straighten things out." I hoped.

Beth came down to meet us, coat in hand. "Ready to go?" she asked, then saw the look on Kev's face. "What's wrong?"

My brother rounded on her. "What's wrong? What do you think? The two of you made a complete fool of me up there and now Gail's pissed at ME!" he said as he stomped off.

For the first time in as long as I'd known her, Beth looked confused. "Tommy ... what happened?"

"I guess Gail took your antics on stage, and his reaction to them, just a little too seriously. She totally ignored Kev and even asked Cindy and Greg for a ride. I don't know who's more in the doghouse—you or Kevin."

"Oh, Tommy," she said, pulling me toward the exit, "I've got to talk to her!" Then she dead-stopped, turned around and ran back to the stage to talk to Steve, the show's director.

"Okay, let's go," she said when she walked back.

"Beth, I don't think she's in a listening mood right now. Why not just leave it alone until tomorrow? Give her a chance to settle down a little."

"That's what I'm planning to do. I just wanted to have some ammunition before I see her."

Ammunition?

The ride home was quiet, with both of the supposed perpetrators of the evening's debacle in their own worlds. When we got home Beth immediately fired up her laptop. After a minute or two she called Kevin to the table.

"Kev, look at this," she said as she started a video. I looked over his shoulder and saw his "performance," such as it was. For the most part he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but on that stage. Even with two great-looking girls rubbing their bods all over him he didn't look happy. My lady was looking pretty uncomfortable herself as she watched her performance.

"Oh, Kevin, I'm so sorry. I guess Jenny and I got a little too far into character." She looked totally embarrassed. "I can see why Gail's upset. I'm sorry."

"What can we do about it?" he wanted to know.

"Well, I guess tomorrow I'll talk to her and show her this video to prove you weren't enjoying yourself and that the whole thing was my fault."

"Yeah, but won't that make her even more mad at you?"

"Maybe. I'll just have to live with it, I guess," my lady said as she stood up and grabbed her phone. "Right now I'm going to call Cindy and ask her to talk to Gail. And I'm going to send her a copy of this video so Gail can see what really happened."

"Cindy?" Kevin asked. "Is Gail upstairs?" I could see him getting ready to charge up there and mess everything up.

"Yes, Kev, she is, but don't go up there tonight. Let Beth and Cindy try to straighten things out first."

"But, Tommy!"

"Kev, remember when Gail showed up at our door that Halloween night? Think about how charging right into things would have messed that up." I could see how the memory of that horrible night pulled him up short.

"Okay, I'll wait," he said as he looked at the pair of sleeping bags on the living room floor and thought of how lonely it would be by himself.

-------

The next morning Beth was up early and on the phone with Cindy. After the call, she was out the front door and up the stairs. Kev was ready to follow her until I reminded him to let her handle things. He didn't look happy, but did a U-turn and headed for the kitchen. I found him sitting at the kitchen table looking like he wanted to kick something or someone. I was betting he wanted to use himself as the target.

"Tommy, Beth shouldn't be doing this for me. I mean, I don't want Gail to be mad at her when it's my fault."

"Is it? How? I mean, the video made it pretty clear you weren't enjoying yourself ... despite what your body thought." Kev turned red at the memory of standing on stage with the front of his jeans looking way too tight.

It was nearly two hours later when Beth and Gail came down the stairs. From the looks of their red eyes, both had been crying. Kevin stood there, uncertain of what to do—hug his girlfriend or run like hell. Gail looked at Kevin and I could see tears forming again. Eventually, she made a little move in his direction and that's all it took. Kev opened his arms and Gail threw herself into them.

"I'm sorry, Gail!" "I'm sorry, Kev!"

Beth walked over to me and wrapped her arms around me.

"Are you okay?" I asked. The way she grabbed me, I wasn't sure.

"I think so. When I first went up there I didn't think she wanted anything to do with either of us, but I finally got her to see it wasn't your brother's fault."

"Yeah, but how did you convince her you aren't after Kev?"

"That was the hard part. Luckily, Cindy was there to help me out. We finally convinced her it was just an improv bit that got a little carried away. I didn't think she'd believe it when I told her getting into a character sometimes just sort of swamps the actor's own personality a little. That can be hard to explain to someone who's never been on stage, she doesn't know what it can be like up there."

"Well, I'm glad it worked. If you'd come downstairs by yourself I would probably have had to tie Kev up to keep him from charging up there."

Gail and my brother left shortly after that, hand-in-hand. Looked like the crisis was over.

As we were getting ready for bed that night Beth turned to me with that hunting tigress look in her eye. "Tommy, did our little attempt at seduction last night do anything to you? You know with all the rubbing and everything?" All this while she did a solo reenactment of just that. I manfully ignored it for as long as I could—not very long—before I picked her up, dropped her on the bed and pounced.

And that was how we celebrated—telling the neighborhood how much we loved the new year.

-------

The following Monday it was back to school. As I walked to Photography one of the guys in the Video program stopped me in the hall.

"Tommy, I understand you make stuff for mounting cameras in different ways."

"Yeah, I do, Dave. Are you looking for something special?"

"Well, I need something to mount a video camera low on a tripod and still be able to smoothly move it up and down."

"Hmm, I've got a tripod adapter that might work."

We talked until we both had to run to get to our respective classes. I made a mental note to bring one of my adapters the next day to show him my gadget.

When I got home I sat down at my computer and started searching for a place to take my lady for Spring Break. Since Matt had sold our favorite spot in the Caribbean I just couldn't work up a lot of enthusiasm for going anywhere. Maybe Seattle to see Beth's grandparents? Hmm...

Beth got home later that evening after a rehearsal for the improv group. She found me hunched over my drafting table, surrounded by scraps of paper, a disassembled adapter and a lot of frustration. Had I promised Dave something I couldn't deliver?

"Oh, oh ... looks like somebody's playing frustrated inventor again. What's the problem?" Beth said, her gaze shifting from the mess to me.

"Am I glad to see you! I'll explain this later. Right now you're going to take me out for dinner!"

"Hmmm, sounds serious," was her only reply as she reached for her jacket. "So where am I taking you?"

"How about the Tokyo Café?"

"Sounds good. Grab your coat and let's go!"

After some shrimp tempura and a little conversation—mostly about what the Oily Cart group was up to—we drove back to the house. I debated working on my latest design changes, but Beth walked out of the bathroom, her hair still wet from the shower, wearing only her—my!—Kodachrome t-shirt. That convinced me the drafting table wasn't where I wanted to spend any more time.

I took a quick shower and walked into the bedroom, to find my princess already in bed, wearing that special smile that usually meant she had something up her sleeve.

In this case, it was an envelope.



-------

Chapter 9


"Guess what I've got!" my princess asked, holding the envelope in front of her.

Oh, ho, game time!

"I don't know, is it bigger than a breadbox?" I asked with a grin.

"Ah ... yes!" she answered, her grin getting bigger.

"Hmmm, bigger than the house?"

A nod and an impatient little bounce that caused all sorts of interesting secondary motions in her glorious torso.

"I know ... a pair of tickets to some exotic, far away place!" A stab in the dark, I really had no idea, but I could see Beth getting impatient with my answers.

"How did you know?" she pouted.

"Huh? You mean that's what you've got?"

She nodded, handing me the envelope. I opened it and found a pair of tickets to the Bahamas. But why?

"We're going back to the Bahamas?" That got me a bigger nod and a sun-rivaling smile.

"Are we going to stay with Bob and Sue?"

That earned a head shake.

"Then where?" This was getting old.

"Oh, a little place my folks bought."

"MATT'S?!" Could it be?

Beth's vigorous nod got those secondary motions going again and I almost forgot about her revelation. Almost.

"Your folks bought Matt's place? Oh, sure. Next you're going to try to convince me they bought his boat too."

"No, unfortunately, he sold it to someone else." Her smile turned into a mock pout as she grabbed the envelope from me and rolled to the far side of the bed. "My folks buying his place was supposed to be big news! Maybe I'll just have to go without you!" she said, waving the prize in front of me.

With a growl, I pounced on her. As I tried to snatch the envelope back I managed only to knock it out of her hand. As it flew across the bed, another ticket folder fell out. What was this?

"Is somebody going with us?"

Before I could grab the envelope and look Beth was off the bed, prize in hand, and an absolutely evil grin on her face.

"Yeah, and I'm not going to tell you who!"

"Not our parents, I hope." What a damper that would put on things. Beth just shook her head.

"Cindy and Greg?" Now that could be fun, but another negative shake.

Who else would she invite? Wait, I knew! "Val and Brad."

"Not even close," my lady taunted.

Who else was there?

No. Couldn't be. "Gail and my brother?"

"Bingo!" she chortled.

"Yeah, but they're too young! They're just kids!"

"Only a year younger than we were our first time! And they'll have us as chaperones."

Only a year? I guess the Pest was growing up. But Beth and I as chaperones? Maybe the Pest wasn't too young to enjoy the island, but I was definitely too young to chaperone anybody. Hell, with the two of us alone, I couldn't even chaperone myself!

Her fun over for the evening, Beth put the envelope on the dresser and joined me in our traditional spoon. As I lay there, I thought about how I'd feel sharing Paradise with my brother. Of course, there was always the compensation of seeing Gail in a skimpy bikini—or less. Hmmm...

"Cut that out, you dirty old man!" was accompanied by a mild elbow.

"I'm not sure I can do that without some help." Hint, hint.

"Oh, I suppose, if I must, otherwise I'll never get any sleep," she said as she rolled over and straddled me.

-------

The next afternoon I showed Dave one of my adapters.

"Tommy, this is almost perfect! Um ... is there any way to make it so I could move the camera up and down but have it stay where I put it? Kind of like a counterweight or something?"

"You mean something between free-fall and locked?"

"Yeah. Can you do something like that?"

"Well ... Hmmm ... I suppose some kind of a felt washer or something to add some friction to the movement. Or maybe a spring to offset some of the weight?"

"Yeah, that would work."

"Let me think about that for a while and I'll see what I can come up with."

"Great! I'll bet some of the other kids in the Video program would be interested, too!"

Looked like it was time to do some experimenting. And, I reminded myself, to ask Beth for help!

When she got home from school I described what Dave wanted. "We talked about washers and springs, Dave even thought of a counterweight, but that would mean extending the arm past the mount. I'd have to re-design the whole thing and I'm not sure I want to go that far."

"Hmmm. Well, regular springs won't work very well. The problem is the tension changes so much as they stretch. They make some exotic designs that overcome that, but Dad calls something like that using a thousand dollar fix for a five dollar problem. Maybe a Belleville spring would work..." She butted me off my chair, grabbed my pencil and a fresh piece of paper, and started drawing.

I could always tell when my princess was in her inventing mode—the rest of the world went away and her speech turned into mumbles with an occasional chunk of invective tossed in. I'd learned a long time ago not to interrupt her—it messed with her concentration and got me nasty looks.

Eventually she put down her pencil and looked at me. "Tommy, how about this. In place of the single Teflon washer on the locking pivot, add another washer with a Belleville between them. That should work better than the felt washer you mentioned."

I looked at her drawing. The spring she was talking about looked like a cone-shaped washer. I'd never heard of them, but if Beth thought they'd do the job...

"Okay, where do we get them?"

"Well ... let's run over to the shop. I'll bet Bud has some hidden away."

"Bellevilles, eh? Yeah, I might have some. Let me go look," Chuck and Bev's foreman said as he strolled back to his inner sanctum. I figured whatever his little back room was, it had to be something magical—larger on the inside than the outside. Maybe it was really a TARDIS, or perhaps a magician's hat—just reach in and pull out whatever you needed. Whatever it was, he came back a few minutes later with a handful of what looked like washers, but they were sort of like short cones, too.

"I've got these, but for what you're trying to do, I think a stamped flat disc spring would work better." He held up his other hand with another assortment of wavy washer-like things. Beth pawed through what he'd brought until she found the perfect choice.

"This ought to work, even better than my idea. Thanks, Bud! I knew you'd have the answer!" Beth exclaimed as she hugged her folks' foreman. I'd bet Bud would wear the resulting grin for the rest of the day.

"All right. Now we've got the parts. How do we put it all together?" I asked.

Five minutes later Beth had taken off the locking handle, put the special washer/spring and another Teflon washer between the two aluminum pieces and put the handle back on.

"Give it a try," she said with a grin. I took the adapter and, sure enough, depending on how much you tightened the handle it was possible to vary the tension from solidly locked to totally free—and everywhere in between. It worked!

"Beautiful!" I said as I gave my lady a hug. "This is exactly what Dave wanted. You're a genius!" I loved her little blush when someone praised her.

The next day I showed Dave Beth's fix.

"Tommy, that's perfect! Um, can I buy that one?"

"Sure, but I want to keep this one until later this week. I need to make up another one so I'll have a sample for the guys who build these for me. Will that work for you?"

"You bet! Wait until the other guys see this. You better make up a bunch!"

After my classes I drove to the photo shop to talk to Joe about my, er, Beth's, modification.

"Tommy, I've been meaning to talk to you about just that. A couple of guys have been in here and had done kind of the same thing, except they just cut some felt to fit in there."

"Great minds, I guess. That was my first thought, too, but Beth came up with the spring washer idea instead. Now, should I do this mod to all of the next batch, or offer two versions?"

"I'd make them all this way. It's a nice advertizing gimmick and that way you don't have to keep up with an extra product."

"And you wouldn't have to carry both of them, either," I kidded him.

"Well, yeah, there's that, too," he chuckled.

"Good enough. I'll change my drawings for the next run, but first I'll have to find someone who carries the springs!"

"What do you think of changing the twenty-five or so we've got left in the back room?" Joe asked.

"I suppose we might as well change them out, too."

"Great, send me some of the springs and washers and I'll take care of it."

I found a supplier who carried the springs and placed an order for enough to cover the adapters Joe had in stock and at least enough extra for the next run. At thirty cents each, I figured I could splurge.

One more thing off my before-we-go list. Woops! Almost forgot to e-mail Jim Wilson to modify my web page to include the upgrade.

The next morning I walked into Photography and spent the hour wishing it was over. Oh, not because I felt bored or that I'd learned everything already. It was because now that I knew we were going back to the island—our island!—I wanted to get there!

Finally the hour was over. As everyone made the usual scramble for the door, Mr. Nordstrom stopped me.

"Hey, Tommy, I want to see you."

Oh, oh, now what had I done?

"Look what I've got!" He reached into his case and pulled out a folder. "The Graphic Arts gang finally finished playing. Take a look at these!"

He handed me the folder and when I opened it, I saw the proofs for the Institute's catalog. The first thing that grabbed my eye was my picture of the big sculpture I'd spent so much time on.

"Holy shit, you gave me the cover!"

"Mr. Randahl, by now you should know we do not give anyone anything," a familiar voice intoned behind me. I turned and saw Mr. Grossfeldt standing there with a look of almost paternal pride deforming his face in an unfamiliar way.

"Mr. Randahl—or may I call you Thomas?—your image is on the cover because it earned the right to be there. Now, if you wish to argue with the entire committee..."

"Um, no, sir! I guess it just took me by surprise. I mean, there were a lot of photographs to choose from and I guess I just didn't expect to see mine on the cover."

"Do you feel there was a better choice?"

"Well ... I guess I'm not the best person to make that choice."

"Good. Artists often fall into two schools when thinking of their work—either feel they are the best in the world, or that their work is not worthy of accolade. Many mediocre talents believe too much of the praise they receive and become insufferably smug, refusing to recognize the fact that everyone can improve. The other extreme consists of the group who, although talented, fall into the habit of over-criticizing their work. Either extreme can be a trap. A good artist—and I remember you do not care for the term—recognizes there is always room for improvement, but is honest enough to admit when his work is the best he can produce given the conditions and his current skill level."

"Um, yes, sir. Like I said, I was just surprised to see that picture." I glanced at Mr. Nordstrom and saw a faint grin. Either he'd heard this before, or he agreed with what Mr. Grossfeldt had said.

When Beth got home that afternoon, I guess I was still riding the high Mr. Grossfeldt's comments had given me.

"So when can I see a copy?" she asked when I finally ran down.

"You know, I was so excited with the cover that I never asked when the actual books would come back from the printer. I suppose some time after break, but I really don't know."

I think I managed to get through the rest of the quarter just thinking of that cover. Finally all the classes and tests were done and our bags were packed, such as they were. I mean, when everything we needed fit in a backpack each it didn't take much. Well, a backpack and a camera bag for me.

The night before we were to leave my brother and Gail showed up just in time for dinner. Funny how that worked out. The next morning we loaded our stuff in Beth's Jeep and headed for the airport. I noticed our younger travelling companions had chosen backpacks, too. I had a feeling Beth had had a talk with Gail and clued her into how little we needed to make it through a week in the islands.

Getting through security was the usual hassle, but knowing what was waiting for us at the end of the trip made even getting the Government Grope tolerable.

Our flight landed at Grand Bahama International Airport in the early afternoon, after changing flights in Atlanta. When we'd left the temperature was several degrees below zero, so the seventy-five or so—okay, twenty-four Celsius—that greeted us was almost as welcome as seeing Bob and Sue Webber waiting for us. After Beth and I got hugs from our friends Sue turned to my brother. "You must be Kevin, right?"

Kev just nodded, having a hard time not staring at Sue. The hug that followed had him transfixed. Sue turned and was giving Gail a welcoming hug after her husband had given the girl an island greeting that left her in the same stupefied shape.

Hugs out of the way, we officially introduced Gail and my brother.

"Well, now that everyone knows who's who, let's get to the boat and get out of here!" Bob said. We grabbed our packs and followed the Webbers out of the terminal and to their battered old Vauxhall sitting in a No Parking area.

"I hope you don't mind crowding in the back," Sue chuckled. Kevin and I ended up with our ladies sitting on our laps for the ride to the marina where the Lady Suzanne was waiting.

"Bob," my lady asked, "could we stop and pick up some groceries? I know you keep things pretty well stocked but I want to pick up some fresh fruit and salad fixin's."

"Sure, no problem," he said as he pulled a U-turn.

Once the girls finished their quick shopping trip we continued to the marina.

"Wow," was all Kev could say when he saw the classic Chris-Craft cruiser tied to the dock.

"Climb aboard and let's get this show on the road!" Sue exclaimed, then proceeded to peel out of her shorts and tank top to reveal a skimpy lime green bikini.

"Why didn't we think of that?" Gail asked Beth.

With a shrug, my lady grabbed her backpack and pointed to the cabin. It only took a couple of minutes for their transformation into two beautiful beachcombers. As the three of us watched, the girls arranged themselves on the top of the cabin. Sue raised her hand and twirled one finger in the air. "Home, James!"

"Yes, Martha!" Bob replied with a grin as he steered us into the channel. Once we were clear of the harbor he bumped up the throttles, and soon the Lady Suzanne was cruising quickly across the sea, the breeze a welcome remedy for the growing heat. As usual, it would take a day or so to get used to the almost-hundred-degree difference in temps between home and paradise.

"Grab something to drink," Bob said, pointing to a cooler on the deck. "And grab me a beer while you're in there."

I dug in the ice and came up with a couple of beers for Bob and me. Kev looked at me with a hopeful expression when he pulled another brew out of the ice. I just shrugged. I didn't see any reason to give him a hard time about an under-age beer. I remembered Dad occasionally offering me a brew after we'd finished a project—no big fuss or pageantry, just a simple beer after a long, hot day's work.

Most of the trip was spent with Bob answering Kevin's questions about the boat. I'd rarely seen my brother so curious and excited about anything. The Three Graces were stretched out in the sun, talking up a storm, only slowing down occasionally to spread more sun block on all that beautifully exposed skin. A couple of times I thought I'd have to tackle Kevin to keep him from charging up there with an offer to help.

It was interesting to watch the change in the group dynamic among the three girls as the trip wore on: Beth and Sue immediately fell into easy conversation, while Gail seemed almost in awe of our older friend. Neither of us had mentioned that the Webbers were well-known authors, but something must have slipped out during their conversation because just before we got to the island I heard Gail peppering Sue with questions about writing and enthusing about how much she enjoyed Sue's books—it was pretty obvious that she'd read a number of them from the questions about characters and locations. I thought she would explode when Sue asked Bob to circle the north side of the island and she pointed out the derelict house that she'd used as the setting for several of her books. I could see Kevin was in for a hike sometime during the week. I was curious to see what they thought of the big house that had been abandoned for over a century. Neither Beth nor I had said anything about our experiences there, or anything about Cecily, whoever or whatever she was.

As we went past the house I looked up and could see the scar left where the chunk of the cliff face had fallen off last summer when we were walking nearby. It gave me the shivers to think of what would have happened if Beth hadn't stopped when she did.

As we continued down the east side of the island Bob told us the latest about the house next to theirs. Apparently the heirs had stopped squabbling long enough to open the place and start using it again. He said there had been a continuous stream of contractors working all winter to get it back into shape. "If they'd settled their differences when the old lady died they could have saved themselves a ton of money," he said, shaking his head.

When we rounded the point and the Webbers' place came into view the first thing I saw was Matt's Helm tied up to their dock.

"So you're the mystery buyer of Matt's boat," I said.

"Nope. It was tempting, but he'd already sold it. Besides, we're happy with the Lady Suzanne and the last thing I need is another boat to take care of."

"Then why do you have her here?"

"The new owners asked me to take her into Nassau and have her gone over. It was just easier to tie her up here until they could claim her."

That's when I heard a snicker behind me.

"Okay, Kev, what's so funny?"

"I know something you don't know!" he chortled, sounding like a six-year-old. At that moment I could have killed my little brother.

"Pest, what are you talking about?" I said, calling him the name I'd reserved for situations like this.

"Well, if you're going to call me names..."

"Kevin Eric Randahl," I threatened. Let's see if the Three Names had any power when I used it.

He looked at Bob. "Have you got the keys?"

"Right here," Bob answered, holding up a float with the keys I recognized. He tossed them to Kev.

"What ... why did you give him the keys if the boat belongs to somebody else?" I was beginning to think I'd missed something.

"Well, I suppose I could have given them to you instead," he said with a huge grin.

"But, why me? Wait a minute! Did Mom and Dad buy her?" Kev's huge grin and bobble-headed nod gave me the answer. So now Beth and I, at least through our parents, owned both Matt's beach house AND his catamaran!

I looked at Beth and saw an expression that matched mine, so at least I wasn't the only one who'd been left in the dark.

"How did you know about the boat?" I asked my brother.

"Oh, I overheard Dad talking on the phone one afternoon."

"Well, if she's our boat I suppose we should get our stuff on board," I said, still in a daze. How had my parents managed to buy a boat like this? Unless Matt pretty much gave her to them ... or they drained Kevin's college fund ... and mine! I guess it was going to be heart-to-heart time with Dad when we got home.

Once we'd lugged our packs onto Matt's Helm we said goodbye to the Webbers. And then the trouble started.

"Let's go!" my brother exclaimed as he almost ran to the console and started to put the key in.

"Hold it, Kev," I said as I grabbed the keys. "What do you know about boats?"

"Whaddya mean? They float and the motor or the sails push them along. It's like driving a car, except no roads to follow."

"That's what I thought. Do you remember Driver Training? Or Dad taking you out to practice?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So maybe a little education before you reach for the keys might be a good idea?"

"How come you didn't need any?"

"But I did. I spent a lot of time on the lake on Hal's sailboat before I even knew a boat like this existed. Even then I was a little leery the first time I thought of taking her out."

"It's true, Kev," Beth spoke up. "If I hadn't convinced Tommy that between the two of us we could handle it, we never would have left the dock." I didn't think it had been QUITE that bad, but I wasn't going to argue.

"Well ... okay, where do we start?"

I flipped on the blowers to vent the engine compartments.

"What's that?" Kev asked when he heard the low rumble.

"Those are the exhaust fans. Technically, they're not needed for Diesel engines, but it's a good habit to get into. You don't want to know how many boats have burned to the waterline because of an engine fire or explosion from built up fumes on a gasoline-powered boat."

"Why don't we do that in cars?" Gail asked.

"Because the engine compartment in a car is open, both through the grill and underneath. A boat is pretty well sealed up. There are air supply vents, but when you're not underway they don't keep the fumes down." I turned the key and both engines rumbled to life.

"Oh, boy!" my brother exclaimed. "Let's go!"

"Don't you think untying the lines would make it a little easier?" I pointed to the bow and stern lines still holding us firmly tied to the dock.

"Um, yeah," he said as he opened the hatch and moved forward to untie the bow line. Gail did the same at the stern.

I showed Kev the engine controls and how he could steer the boat by varying the engine speeds and directions. "Put one engine in reverse and the other forward and you can just about spin her on a dime," I said as we cleared Bob and Sue's dock. Once out on the open water Beth and I showed both Gail and my brother some of the basics of boat handling. I had originally planned on just going around the point to our beach house, but this seemed like a good time for a teach-in.

Eventually we tied up at our dock and unloaded everything. When I opened the door to the house I saw Gail give Kev the Look.

"Can we go swimming right away?" she asked.

"Sure. Just don't forget to use your sunscreen or the rest of the week won't be very enjoyable," Beth told her 'little sister.'

Since both girls had changed into bikinis on the Lady Suzanne Gail was out the door, SPF50 in hand. It didn't take Kev very long and he was gone, too.

I took the time to set up my laptop and make sure the connection through Bob's hot spot was working. With four of us, I was pretty sure it would get a good workout. Vacation or not, a guy had to keep in touch.

That chore done, I walked over to the window to see if Kev and Gail were okay. Gail had managed to lose the top of her bikini and my brother was chasing her through the surf.

"I know what you're thinking," my lady sing-songed behind me.

"And what would that be?" I asked as I walked toward her.

"You're just being a dirty old man again," she grinned as she turned and gyrated toward the bedroom. The twin orbs of her perfect derrière in her string bikini—and my body's reaction to them—convinced me she was probably right.

"I'm going to take a shower," Beth said as she pulled the strings on either side of her skimpy suit bottom and let it drop to the floor. "Want to scrub my back?"

Oh, yeah!

Luckily, Matt had equipped the beach house with a good-sized water heater.

After a lazy shower, where both of us carefully made sure the other was clean, we adjourned to the bedroom. I stretched out on the bed and watched her as she brushed out her hair. Her sensual movements were giving me all sorts of dirty-old-man thoughts.

"Are you almost done?" I asked.

"Oh, I haven't even started," she replied, putting down her brush, and sinuously moving to the foot of the bed. Once there, she gave me an absolutely evil grin and began to lick her way north. By the time she reached my hips I was sure I was going to explode. When she wrapped her hand around me and gently stroked up and down, I was sure of it. "Oh, God..." I groaned as she played with me until I couldn't take it any more. "Beth, you're going to have a mess on your hands!"

"Oh, no, I'm not," she chuckled as I felt myself being surrounded by a pair of soft, warm lips.

What do the French call it? La petite mort—the little death. Smart folks, those French. All I know is I couldn't move when Beth crawled up next to me.

"See, no mess," she said, waving her fingers in front of my face. Then with a sly grin she slowly licked her lips. I guess I wasn't dead after all—at least the important parts weren't.

Some indefinable time later I heard a snicker and half opened one eye to find that we'd forgotten to close the bedroom door. Both Kev and Gail had lost their suits somewhere, and stood there with satisfied grins on their faces. I closed my eye and just pretended they weren't there. It didn't seem important and I figured it probably wouldn't be the only time one couple or the other got caught. I just ignored the voyeurs and snuggled up behind my lady and drifted off.

"Tommy, are you awake?"

"I am now," I mumbled.

"What are we going to do for dinner?" Ever the practical one, Beth was.

"I don't know. How about steaks on the grill?"

"I suppose that means we're going to have to move, huh?"

"Eventually," I moaned. Moving would mean I'd have to let my lady go and I didn't want to do that.

"I guess 'eventually' has arrived," she chuckled as my stomach let out a not-so-subtle rumble.

With a groan, I rolled out of bed, pulled on my suit and walked into the living room, where I noticed our younger housemates had remembered THEIR door.

"You two working up an appetite?" I said as I knocked on the door.

"Um, ye-yeah," Kev stammered, and I could swear I heard Gail giggle.

Soon Kev and I had foil-wrapped potatoes on the grill as the girls tossed a salad together.

"Man, I can see why you always want to come here," my brother said as we watched the sun near the horizon.

"Yeah, out here it's real easy to forget the rest of the world even exists."

We were just sitting there when the timer went off. "Time for the steaks," I said as I levered myself off my lawn chair.

That was when I heard, "Hello the house! Tommy, Beth, you decent?"

"Sure, Sue, come on up."

Sue and Bob walked up from the beach. "Oh, we didn't mean to interrupt your meal," Bob said. "As a matter of fact, we were going to invite the four of you over. Guess we'll make it another night."

"As long as you're here, why don't you join us?" I asked as they turned to leave.

"We don't want to intrude."

"No problem. We'll just toss on a couple more steaks. We've got plenty of food."

"We'd love to," Sue answered.

Beth and Gail walked out with a huge salad bowl. "Hi, you two. Are you going to join us?" Beth asked.

"I guess we are," Bob replied as he dropped into one of the chairs scattered around the patio, after fishing a Coke out of the cooler.

By the time the sun was down the food had disappeared and the six of us were enjoying the after-the-feast drowsiness.

"So have you got your whole week planned out yet?" Bob asked.

"Nope, we're just playing it by ear," I replied.

"You want to try another diving lesson?"

"Sure!" I had gotten hooked on diving last Summer.

"Diving? You mean with tanks and everything?" Kevin asked.

"That's right. You want to try, too, Kevin?"

His nod verified his interest.

"How about you two?" He looked at Gail and Beth.

My lady shook her head. "I think I'll stick with just swimming for a while."

"Can I?" Gail asked. "I mean are you an instructor or something? Can you teach me?"

"He sure is," I replied. "He taught me how."

"And if he can teach Tommy..." Beth snickered.

It was going to be a LOOONG vacation.



-------

Chapter 10


The next morning we all trooped over to the Webber's place. Sue had invited Beth to spend the morning with her while Bob took the three of us out to his favorite reef for our diving lessons.

We loaded the Lady Suzanne with tanks, fins, masks, PFDs, weight belts, and the kitchen sink for all I knew. Bob just kept pulling stuff out of the boat house and directing us where to stow it on board.

By the time he pulled away from the dock the three of us were ready to sit down and rest for a few minutes.

"What do you think you're doing?" our host asked as we grabbed chairs on the aft deck. "You can't very well dive if you don't know where you are."

I looked in his direction and saw he'd pulled out a chart of the area. Looked like it was time for a lesson in navigation. I saw Gail hanging back until Bob pointed at her.

"Don't think you're going to get out of this because of that cute bikini you're wearing," he said as he motioned her forward.

By the time we got to the dive site, it was obvious who was the best mathematician of the three of us. Gail picked up navigation as if she'd been working geometry problems in her sleep her whole life. It was easy to see why she and Beth got along so well.

"Okay, let's start with some basic safety rules. I'll warn you now, if I see you break any of them, the lesson's over. Got that?"

"Yes, sir," we all responded. It was funny, but when he used that voice he was 'sir, ' not 'Bob.'

Twenty minutes later he declared us ready to dive ... Almost.

"Gail, I'd put on a T shirt. Remember, sun block washes off in the water and I'd hate to see all that pretty skin looking like a lobster."

Bob's comment left Gail simpering as she dug a shirt out of her pack. As an avid reader, having a well-known author show concern for her welfare must have been a real kick.

Kevin looked as if he was ready to take exception to the fact that our instructor had even noticed.

It was three hours later when we got back to the dock, only to find Matt's Helm tied up where the Lady Suzanne would normally berth. Obviously, Beth and Sue had decided to do something besides sitting around waiting for us to return.

After a little boat-jockeying we ended up with the Lady in her rightful place, with Matt tied along side.

With that out of the way, we started unloading all the dive equipment and hauling it back into the boat house. By the time we were done the smell of food was wafting down from the house only to be met by a chorus of tummy rumbles—diving is hard work!

As we sat down for dinner, Sue and Beth began loading the table. When they brought out the last dish the table was almost groaning under the weight of all the goodies.

The pièce de résistance was a bottle of bubbly Sue had chilling in a bucket of ice. "Don't expect this kind of service every day," she joked as Bob worked the cork out of the bottle. "Today is a special day and should be commemorated with much pomp and circumstance. Unfortunately, we're low on both, so a bottle of domestic bubbly is what you get."

As we ate it was fun to watch Gail—she was ready to explode from excitement, but at the same time trying to act as adult as possible in the presence of two famous authors. Kevin, on the other hand, was almost sullen. He took part in the conversation and thanked the Webbers several times for both the diving lesson and the meal, but I could tell he was sulking, and I thought I knew why.

When Beth suggested that we should get home Gail stood up and almost fell on her pert derrière. Obviously, the wine had gone to her head. I didn't know if it was from a lack of experience with alcohol or maybe she had a metabolism that didn't handle it well, but either way, my brother's girlfriend was more than a little tipsy—all from one glass of bubbly.

We said our goodbyes and thanked Bob and Sue for the memorable day and soon had our—our!—boat pointed toward home. While Beth and I were tying up the boat, we watched as Kevin had to almost carry Gail up to the house.

"Oh, I think she's going to regret that later tonight," Beth said.

When Beth and I finished we walked up to the house we found Gail sprawled out across the bed, face down, and snoring.

"Hmmm, that looks familiar," I kidded my lady, forgetting her elbow.

Kevin was sitting at the kitchen table wearing the mother of all scowls.

"Okay, little brother, what's got your knickers in a knot?" I asked.

"What do you think? I mean he's old enough to be her father! And trying to get her drunk on top of it all!" he railed.

Now, irony like this doesn't come along every day. Here was my brother, almost foaming at the mouth when it wasn't too long ago he was at the other end of the stick. I almost laughed until I realized how much the whole thing upset him.

"Kev, take it easy. Did you ever consider that Bob was just trying to get Gail to relax? It was pretty obvious she was nervous. Between her first diving experience and the fact that Bob is a famous author, it was easy to see why she was on edge. His comment was just to take her mind off it all."

"Well ... maybe, but how about the wine?"

"It was Sue who brought it out, not Bob. I can't believe Gail got looped on a single glass, a little tipsy, maybe, but flat on her butt drunk? I mean, one bottle split between the six of us? I get the idea she doesn't drink very much?"

"No. Neither of us do."

"There you go. It wasn't a big seduction attempt, just a friendly celebration and Gail just didn't know her limit. Nothing sinister."

"Well, I still don't like the way he was ogling her! And that comment about all the skin she was showing!"

I just sighed. "Kevin, Bob wasn't 'ogling' Gail. Although she does look pretty good in that suit," I said as I glanced toward their room where the lady in question was sprawled across the bed, out like a light. Wrong comment at the wrong time. When I got off the floor my jaw felt like I'd been hit by a truck.

"Kevin! What was that for?" Beth had walked into the room just in time to see my brother deck me.

"I just don't like the way guys are looking at Gail. Dammit, it's bad enough when strangers do it, but to have my own brother almost drooling over her!"

Beth's snicker had Kev wheeling on her. "I mean it! She didn't do anything!"

Bath laughed. "Kev, are you really that naïve? Why do you think she wears that bikini? Grow up!"

"Yeah, but she's my girlfriend. Why would she want other guys to look at her?"

Beth threw me a look along the lines of, 'He's your brother, haven't you taught him anything?'

"Kev, she's a girl," I said. "A good looking one. Why wouldn't she enjoy guys drooling when they look at her dressed like that?"

He looked at me. "Tommy, you can't tell me you like it when somebody does that to Beth?"

"Sure I do. I mean, why wouldn't I be proud to be seen with a beauty like her?"

He turned to the lady in question. "Doesn't it bother you when Tommy checks out every pretty girl he sees?"

"No, it just proves he's a guy with a normal libido. It doesn't mean anything.

"Don't tell me you don't get a kick out of the envious looks you get from other guys when you're with Gail."

"Well ... yeah, but—"

"But nothing. Kev, you're just jealous. Remember, jealousy isn't the same as love. As a matter of fact it's the opposite—it's insecurity."

"Yeah, Tommy's said that before, but I still don't get it."

"Look, if Gail really loves you she's not going to dump you just because she enjoys it when some other guy looks at her. And if she does dump you, you're better off without her."

"Well ... I suppose..."

"Kev, would you believe I had almost this same conversation with Gail on New Year's Eve?" Beth asked.

I could see him wince at the memory of Gail's reaction to his time on stage that memorable night.

"You did? I couldn't believe the way she acted that night. I mean I didn't do ANYTHING and she made it seem like I'd ripped your clothes off right on stage!"

"Turnabout may be fair play, but it's also a bitch, eh, little brother?"

Just then the "lady" in question rolled over and gave out with a snore that I was sure would register on the Richter scale.

We looked at each other and broke out laughing, all the tension suddenly gone.

The next morning Beth and I were stretched out on the beach, Kindles in hand. I was deep into a James Hogan novel and a quick glance told me Beth was reading another of her technical magazine articles. When a glance at the page showed me more than one character I didn't recognize in a formula, I knew better than to ask.

What I did recognize was that she had decided to go native and forgo the top of her screaming orange suit. She glanced up at me.

"Oh, good, just in time!" she said as she rolled over to present the world with a view of her beautiful derrière ... and me with a bottle of sun screen.

Oh well, it was a nasty, slippery job, but I knew my duty. I squirted the SPF50 on my lady's back, cracked my knuckles and dug in, rubbing the lotion into all that beautiful skin.

My odious chore complete, I waded into the water to wash the sun screen off my hands, only to be pounced upon by my almost-naked lady. That meant war!

It didn't take too long before Gail and my brother came down to see what the hollering was all about. I tried to shield Beth until I could find a way to get to the top of her suit, but she just stood there, as calm as could be, while Kevin tried not to stare. Gail, on the other hand, took one look at Beth, reached back to pull the strings on her top, dropped it on the sand, and jumped in the water to join the battle. Eventually, my brother decided to join in the fun and soon the four of us were ducking and splashing each other. Modesty? That was for home, not here!

"Well, Gail, I see you got over yesterday's little adventure," Beth kidded her.

"Ohh, I never want to feel like that again. What was in that wine?"

"Just bubbles and alcohol."

"Kevin, don't EVER let me do that again!"

I glanced at Beth and saw her shoot Gail a sympathetic look. Obviously she remembered those times she'd ended up a bit under the weather. I wondered if Kevin would have any more luck telling his girl not to do something than I had with mine.

"So what have the two of you got planned for the rest of the day?" I asked.

"I want to see that house," Gail said. No one asked which house she meant. We all knew.

"Just remember to stay away from the cliff!" Beth reminded the pair as they started up the path.

"Yes, mother," Gail replied with a grin.

Having had enough of the water for a while, Beth and I dried each other off and settled back down with our respective reading material. After we renewed each other's sunscreen, of course. And then spent some time redistributing it over each other.

It was some uncountable time later when Gail and my brother arrived back from their expedition. I could see they were a little spooked by the trip and knew how they felt.

"So how'd it go?" I asked Kevin.

"Oh, all right, I guess. That house is really spooky. It almost seems haunted."

"Yeah," Gail added. "I can see why Sue has used it in some of her books. I'm surprised she hasn't told Stephen King about that place!"

My brother looked as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't quite decide how to do it. "Um, Tommy, have you met anyone else who lives around here?"

"You mean besides Bob and Sue? Yeah. We met Jamie Swanson and his family last summer. They've got the place just to the west, but that's it. I know there's a rich couple who own the house past the Swansons and four or five people who share the place on the other side of the Webbers but we haven't met any of them. Why?"

"While we were walking up the path to that house we met a kid just sitting on a rock."

I gave Beth a look and got a gentle elbow. I took the hint and kept my mouth shut.

"Anyway," Kev continued, "she said her name was Cecily and claimed she lived in the big house on the cliff, but the only house up there is that old wreck. How could she live there, or was she just pulling our legs? And the outfit she was wearing. It looked like a swim suit out of an old silent movie.

"You guys were setting us up, weren't you? I mean nobody could live in that house."

I glanced at Beth and got a nod. "Kev, you're not going to believe me, but you met a girl who we think died on the Titanic."

He gave me a skeptical look but Gail turned white as a, well, a ghost.

"Are you putting me on?" he asked.

"No, Kev, we're not." I went on to explain what Beth had found out about the Fitzhugh family dying when the Titanic sank, and Beth mentioned the fact that as far as the Bahamian government was concerned there was no house up there.

"Yeah, but how can that be? I mean ... wait a minute. You're paying me back for not telling you about the boat, aren't you?!"

"Kev, I'm not kidding you. The only Cecily Fitzhugh we could find a record for was lost with her parents when the Titanic sank. No shit, little brother."

I could still see a skeptical little edge in his expression while Gail looked even more spooked. She looked at Beth as if she was wanting—begging—my lady to tell her it was all a farce. I could tell from Beth's expression that, with Kev and Gail's sighting, her technically-minded assurance that ghosts don't exist was beginning to fray just a bit around the edges. She looked at me as if asking me to say something to reassure her ... and Gail. Unfortunately, my bag of glib reassurances was pretty much empty. Looked like it was time to change the subject.

"So what should we do for dinner?"

It seemed everyone was more than willing to talk about something else, and after a few minutes of discussion we decided to visit the club Bob and Sue had taken us to last summer. "Of course, that means you're going to have to dress up," I told my brother.

"Dress up? Tommy, I didn't bring anything fancy!'

"Don't worry. 'Dress up' has a bit looser definition down here. Have you got a pair of slacks and a regular shirt?"

"Yeah, I think so. Gail did most of the packing. I'll have to check."

"You better hope she did, or it'll be a shopping trip for you before we eat."

Looking worried, he went in the house to check his wardrobe. My brother and I had the same attitude toward shopping—the less we had to do, the better.

Suitably attired, we set sail to the nearby island and the club.

As we walked up to the restaurant I was wondering if they'd remember us from last summer. After all, Beth causing our server to do a fancy dance to keep her tray full of food off the floor while Bob sprayed his drink all over could get you remembered ... and not in a good way.

The host didn't react as we walked up, but Beth and I gave each other a look when the same girl came over to take our beverage orders after we were seated. Luckily, she didn't seem to recognize us.

Gail looked a little uncomfortable while she was scanning the menu and I wondered why. Of course, our server had to ask Gail first what she'd like. Looking even more uncomfortable, she said she hadn't quite decided and to come back to her. When Beth chose lobster, Gail did the same. Kev and both opted for steaks.

I could see Gail's discomfort build when the server brought the lobster tools for each of the girls. Was it possible she'd never had lobster before?

That thought was reinforced when the lobsters were brought out. I noticed Gail was watching Beth and following her moves as she cracked the lobster and pulled out the white flesh. I recalled the restaurant scene from John Steinbeck's Sweet Thursday where Suzy had followed Doc's lead at dinner. I was going to kid Gail about it when I thought back to her father. I remembered what he'd been like and was willing to bet she'd never been in a restaurant that even offered lobster, let alone had the opportunity to try it. As the meal progressed I could see her relaxing as she got used to the intricacies of digging the meat out of the stubborn crustacean.

After the meal we walked back to the harbor. As everyone else headed for the boat, I stopped at the dockmaster's office and extended our slip rental for another day. The sun had set by the time we'd finished dinner and I wasn't yet comfortable navigating at night, so we had decided to stay where we were until the morning. Kev and Gail seemed to have no problem when they heard they'd have to share a berth on the boat that night. For that matter, neither did my lady.

"Did you see the expression on our server when she recognized me?" Beth asked as we got ready for bed.

"No, I didn't."

"I almost broke up when she served Gail's lobster and turned to me. Maybe it was my imagination, but I noticed she was very careful to make sure I knew she was behind me before she got close!"

"Damn, I wish I'd noticed that," I grumbled. "I DID give her a good tip, just in case she recognized us, though."

"So what's the plan for tomorrow?"

"I don't know. I only extended the space until tomorrow, but if you and Gail want to do some shopping or something I'm sure we can stay longer."

"Hmmm, let me check with Gail in the morning."

That was the end of our discussion that night. We had no problem finding better things to do. There's something about spending the night on a boat...

The next morning, once everybody rolled out of the sack, Beth asked Gail if she wanted to get in some shopping, but Gail said she wasn't in the mood, so soon we were on our way back to the island. I used the time to give Kev and Gail some time at the helm. I knew some day soon they'd be down here by themselves and I didn't want them to try to handle the big cat without some hands-on experience.

When we tied up, the girls walked up to the house but my brother hung back. Obviously something was up.

"Tommy, can I borrow your camera? I brought my own memory card."

Oh, ho, I knew instantly what this was about.

"Going to take some 'special' pictures?"

"Um, yeah. Since you don't want to do them, I figured ... well ... can I?"

"Sure. Kev, it's not that I don't want to take pictures of Gail, it's just that I'm afraid of what would happen if they got out.

"Let me get the Nikon. Do you know how to use it?"

"Could you give me some quick lessons?"

"Sure. Does Gail know about this?"

His nod and grin were all the answer I needed. "Remember, she's the one who first asked you about it."

I walked up to the house and found both girls waiting at the door.

"Are you going to let Kevin use your camera?" Gail asked.

I just grinned at her and nodded. With a pretty little blush she gave me a big hug.

I grabbed the camera and spent the next half hour showing my brother the basics of photography. I left the Nikon in "Auto" mode, figuring he'd have enough on his hands without getting into aperture or shutter priority or even manual focus.

Gail looked as if she was having second thoughts when she came down to the beach and heard the click, click, click of the Nikon, even though she still had her bikini on.

It was pretty obvious as they walked down together that Beth had figured the younger girl would be nervous about posing. In my lady's typically thoughtful fashion, she had changed into her bikini, too.

Kevin obviously noticed and the rapidity of the Nikon's clicks got faster with two great-looking subjects in his viewfinder.

Beth walked up to me.

"How do we get Gail to relax?" I asked her. It was bad enough having a neophyte photographer without having to contend with a nervous model, too.

"Well, there's one sure way," she said as she reached for the strings of her suit.

Nude, she waded into the water. "Last one in is a chicken!" she hollered.

I stood there, my hands on the waistband of my trunks for what seemed to be a lifetime, trying to work up the courage to join my lady. I thought back to the first time at the farm with Greg and Cindy. I'd had no problem then, so what was different now? Was it because it would be in front of my brother and his younger girlfriend? Or that I was going to have to work to get my trunks past you-know-who? Or was it that I was worried that my obvious reaction to the thought of seeing Gail nude would embarrass her, perhaps enough that she'd change her mind about posing? Whatever the reason, it was nothing compared to the thought of disappointing my lady who was standing in the water, nude herself, wearing that expectant look that I'd learned long ago was impossible for me to ignore. With a sigh, I pulled my trunks off and joined her. The things I do for my art. Except it wasn't mine this time!

It must have been the thought of posing naked that had Gail on edge, since we'd all been skinny-dipping for most of the week with no problem. Seeing us in the water she giggled and whispered something to my brother. With a shake of his head, he whispered something back. Gail just laughed and pulled his trunks down to his knees. I thought I was going to rupture myself watching him try to pull his suit back up one-handed while bobbling the Nikon in the other.

"Better not drop my camera!" I hollered.

Giving in to the inevitable, he let his trunks drop to the sand and stepped out of them, then turned to stare at his attacker. With a sigh, Gail resigned herself to being the focus of Kevin's attention. She pulled the strings on her suit and joined Beth and me in the water.

Kevin began photographing her from every angle he could think of. Every angle, that is, except the right ones. I watched for a couple of minutes and couldn't stand it any more.

"Kev, give me the camera," I said as I waded out of the water and held out my hand.

He didn't argue as he passed the camera to me and joined Gail and Beth in the water. I noticed he went in until he was waist-deep, enough to hide his rather obvious attraction to his model.

"Gail, come up here for a second," I said to her. "Kev, you too."

"Why? What's going on?" my brother asked suspiciously as the pair exited the water.

"To get the right skin tone you're going to have to cover her with baby oil."

I didn't mention that the contact would help Gail relax.

Kev looked at me to make sure I wasn't kidding, then applied himself—and the oil—with great vigor. He didn't even notice that caressing the oil onto Gail's body was causing a predictable reaction to reoccur. I was surprised he didn't pass out from lack of blood to his bigger head.

Since it was almost sunset, I told Kev to hurry up. He looked like he was enjoying his job just a bit too much.

Once her lube job was done I told Gail where to stand in relation to the setting sun, and soon had what I hoped were several good poses and exposures. The oil gave her an almost ethereal look in the dying light. I even got a few plain sunset shots for the front of the "special."

Work done, I put the camera safely in Beth's beach bag and joined in the fun, splashing and dunking the girls as they gave as good as they got. If a couple of grabs were included no one was complaining. I know I wasn't!

-------

Alas, Einstein was right—time is relative, especially in paradise. It seemed like it had been only a couple of days and suddenly we were at the airport saying goodbye to Sue and Bob.

The flight home seemed to take forever, but it was only a few hours later and we were back where we started, tired but happy. Kevin and Gail were going to stay overnight with us so we decided to grab something to eat before we drove home.

Both Kev and Gail had taken to Annie's so that's where we ended up. Once full of food, we drove back to the house.

"Tommy, can I use your computer to look at the pictures?" Kev asked.

"Sure, let me fire it up and we'll see what you've got. You want Gail in here or are you going to surprise her?"

"Can we keep this between the two of us until I see which one I want?"

"Okay, let me tell Beth so she'll keep Gail busy." It always helped to have a willing accomplice.

It didn't take too long for my brother to admit that, while the stuff he shot was salacious, it wasn't what he wanted. Not to mention he'd seemed almost as intent on getting pictures of MY girl as he was of his own. As we went through the pictures I took I told Kev what I'd done and why for each shot and where he'd gone wrong.

"Oh, I'll never remember all that stuff!" he wailed.

"That's why you keep me around, remember?" I kidded him.

Eventually, he decided on the two images he wanted. I told him I'd have the prints by Wednesday, stop by the frame shop on Thursday, and he'd have his present Friday—a nice island sunset on the front and the special shot on the back.

Sunday night we invited my parents over for dinner, both for familial conviviality and to give me a chance to grill Dad about the boat and why he hadn't said anything about it to me. As soon as my folks arrived Beth dragged Mom off to the kitchen, while making it clear that any male presence would not be appreciated. That left Dad and me in the living room, Dad with a beer and me with a Coke.

"So how was your trip" he asked.

"Not too bad, except we were sorry to hear that Matt had sold his boat." I was going to milk this for all it was worth.

"Um, yeah, but didn't you see the Webbers?"

"Oh, sure. Bob told us he'd taken the boat to Nassau to get it in shape for the new owners." Damn, keeping a straight face was tough!

"Well ... but wasn't the boat there?" I could see Dad's confusion rising.

"Oh, sure, Bob said he was holding it for the new owners ... So when are you going to ask me for the keys?" I said, letting Dad off the hook. It wasn't often I'd ever been able put anything over on him and this was SWEET!

"Wha ... Oh, damn it! You got me!" he said with a big grin.

"Dad, how did you manage to buy a boat like that? I mean, even used they're expensive!"

"That's what I said when Matt contacted me. I talked to Chuck and we sort of bought it together. Besides, Matt gave us a great deal. He said something about wanting Matt's Helm to go to someone who would appreciate her. On top of that, Bob said he had a friend who would love to lease her when we're not there."

It wasn't until later that I thought about that. I mean, my folks and Beth's going in together on a financial deal like this? Sounded like they were pretty sure we were going to stay together. Or maybe it was a way to make sure we did. Not that I had a problem with that.

Monday it was back to school. I walked into Photography and saw a stack of catalogs on Mr. Nordstrom's desk. I grabbed a copy and started thumbing through it. After I admired the front cover, of course.

The rest of the week was almost as interesting ... almost.



-------

Chapter 11

When I got home from school Monday afternoon Greg was waiting for me.

"Are you guys free tonight?"

"Sure. At least I think so but let me check with Beth first. What's up?"

"We'd like to take you out for dinner."

"I'll let you know as soon as Beth gets home." I could have called her, but we'd both agreed not to bother each other during school. Nothing worse than having your phone go off during a class.

Once I got settled, my first job was to run Gail's special picture through Photoshop, although from what I'd seen yesterday there wasn't much to do. A little tone adjustment and removing a few stray hairs, and I was done. The sunset picture took a little more work, but by the time Beth walked in I was almost through.

"Did you get Kevin's pictures ready?" she asked.

"Yeah, just finishing up," I said as I pulled the special shot up.

"Damn, she looks pretty good, doesn't she? Certainly older than sweet sixteen," Beth said, looking at the image of Gail in the water, the sun just touching the horizon beside her. I didn't say anything. Sometimes keeping my mouth shut was just a good idea.

I copied the completed files to a thumb drive to drop off at the lab, backed up everything from Kevin's CF card and the final images to a DVD, then deleted all the temp files from my PC and ran an erase program on all the free space. Paranoid? Probably, but I didn't want to take any chances of anyone but Beth discovering that I was a dirty old man.

"By the way, Greg stopped down earlier and asked if we were free for dinner."

"Sure! After today a nice night out sounds good. You wouldn't believe the work my instructors piled on today and the quarter's just started!"

I called upstairs and soon Greg and Cindy were at our front door, dressed in more than their usual jeans and T-shirts.

"Um, are we going someplace fancy?" I asked.

"Yeah, this is a special night!" Cindy said.

"Okay, come on in and give us a chance to change."

Once in the bedroom I asked Beth, "Do you have any idea what's going on?"

"Nope, but Cindy looked like she was really excited about something."

"I wonder ... You don't suppose Greg finally popped the question, do you?"

"Could be," my lady said as she pulled a nice dress over her head. "Let's go find out!"

Greg insisted on driving and soon we were at the restaurant we'd pretty much reserved for special occasions.

"Okay, what's up, you two?" I asked after the maitre d' seated us.

"Beth, would you do me a great big favor?" Cindy asked, looking at my lady.

Beth just shrugged. "Sure. What can I do?"

Cindy obviously couldn't stand it any more. She pushed her left hand under Beth's nose where it was impossible not to see the ring sparkling in the light. "Would you be my maid of honor?"

That left Greg and me to ourselves for a few minutes after Beth booted me out of my chair, plopped down next to her best friend, and did the girlish equivalent of a seated happy dance. If we hadn't been in a fancy restaurant, I wouldn't have been surprised to hear a bunch of squealing.

Finally the girls settled down and Beth gave me my seat back. Greg looked at me, and I could just guess what was coming.

"I was going to ask you to take pictures, but I already made other arrangements."

What the hell? Of all the weddings I'd like to do and I wasn't going to get the chance?

"That's okay. Just being there will be special," I said, trying to cover my hurt feelings. I mean, Greg was my best friend and I wasn't good enough to do his wedding pics?

"Nope, I just can't ask you to be our photographer," he repeated, "because I want you to be my best man!"

Damn, blindsided again!

"I'd be honored," I said, suddenly feeling much better about the evening.

"It only seems right, since you two got us together in the first place," Cindy said with a grin.

"Yeah, and I still owe you for that," Greg said in a mock-threatening voice.

I thought back to that that Friday night at the little coffee shop where Beth and I had tricked them into a blind date. Who knew it would turn out like this?

"So have you set a date yet?" Ever the practical one, my lady.

"Yeah, June fifteenth," Gail said. "We want it to be just after school's out."

"Speaking of that," Greg added with a grin, "will you rent to a married couple?"

I glanced at Beth and saw a little smirk.

"Well, I don't know," she said in a mock serious voice. "What do you think, Tommy?"

"Hmmm, I don't know. After all, staid old married people might take exception to our wild parties."

"Yeah, we'd probably have to invite them and that would really put a damper on things," Beth said, just barely hanging on to her serious expression.

"Oh, well, I guess we can make an exception, as long as they agree to invite us to all their wild parties."

I learned something just then: Cindy had been taking elbow lessons from guess-who.

"So where is it going to be?" Beth asked.

"We've reserved that little chapel just off campus. We figured during the summer it wouldn't be too busy," Cindy replied.

Our server came over just then and asked what everyone wanted. Neither girl wanted trout since the pond wasn't open yet.

"It just tastes better when you catch it yourself," Cindy said. So she and Beth opted for shrimp while Greg and I ended up with our usual steaks.

Needless to say there wasn't much talk during dinner about anything but the wedding.

By the time we got home I don't think there was a detail left uncovered. Even Greg and I got pulled into the discussion. And here I'd thought the guys only had to show up on The Day! Something to remember for when it was my turn.

When I crawled into bed later that night Beth was chuckling over something. I decided to wait her out rather than ask.

"You should have seen your expression at dinner! You looked like someone just ran over your puppy when Greg said he didn't want you to do the pictures for the wedding! Did you really think he'd leave you out of things?"

"I didn't know what to think! The funny thing is their wedding was the only one I was really looking forward to doing. I mean, when Val asked I almost said 'no.'

"I can usually tell when Greg is setting someone up, but I missed it big time tonight."

"You certainly did!"

My princess was having entirely too much fun over this. Time for some revenge! I found that special spot on her ribs and soon had her screaming for me to stop. I did—by sliding my hand a little further south, which soon had her making other interesting noises.

Tuesday after school I took the thumb drive with Kevin's pictures to the lab. Tim, the lab manager, was at the counter as I walked in.

"Oh, boy, here he is!" he chortled when he saw me. "What have you got for us this time?"

"Just a couple of files. I need eleven-by-fourteens," I said as I handed him the drive. I had offered to do sixteen-by-twenties for Kev, but he thought that would be a little too big.

Tim loaded the files into the computer on the counter and opened the Caribbean sunset shot. "Damn, Tommy, you do some nice work!"

Then he opened the "special" of Gail.

"Holy shit." He made it sound like a prayer. "Where do you find such beautiful women? That's what, five or six now? Keep this up and you'll have enough for a calendar!" I thought back: Beth, Cindy, Gracie, Sherry Wilson, and now Gail. That was an impressive bunch.

I chuckled at the thought of the reaction Beth, and most of the other girls, would have to the idea of being on a calendar. "I don't think that's going to happen," I told a crestfallen Tim.

"Oh, well, a guy can dream, I guess."

"Dream all you want, just don't start making copies," I kidded him. I knew he ran an honest shop or those images would never have seen the inside of his lab.

"On a note like that, would you allow us to make a copy? Of just the first picture!" he added quickly. "I'd be proud to display it just to show clients what we can do."

"Sure. Just remember to tell people where it came from."

"Oh, you can bank on that. By the way, have you got some business cards I can pass out?"

"Yeah, I've got some in the Jeep, but what would other photographers want with a competitor's card?"

"You'd be surprised how often someone asks. Especially guys who specialize in only one kind of work. It never hurts to be able to refer somebody to another photographer who can help out if they can't or don't want to do a particular job."

"Makes sense. Let me get some cards," I said. I went out to the Jeep and brought back a handful. I also asked Tim if I could get the prints the next day.

"No problem," he said, still gazing at my brother's girlfriend.

When I got home, Beth was already there, busily pounding away on her laptop.

"What'cha working on?" I asked.

"Oh, just a paper on calculating stresses in dissimilar materials." She pointed at the screen as if she thought I'd have the slightest chance of understanding any of the Greek on the page. Or was it Latin? Either way, there were more formulas than text on the screen, and I regretted asking. Well, she could have her technology, I had some of my own. I loaded Photoshop and started trying to figure out some of its more esoteric features.

I was still at it when my phone rang.

"Tommy? It's Gracie! How are you?"

"Pretty good. How about you? Still modeling?"

"Yeah, I just finished another catalog shoot and spent last week showing off some machinery at a trade show. I even had some lines I had to memorize."

"Well, well, a model AND an actress," I kidded her. I remembered how nervous she'd been the first time she had to stand next to a piece of big machinery. "So what's up?"

"Tommy, Joey asked me to marry him!"

"He did? Great. Congratulations!" I whispered the news to Beth, who immediately grabbed my phone, and off they went. I realize weddings are big things for those of the female persuasion, but listening to Beth squeal when I wasn't the cause seemed, well, unnatural.

"Oh, umm, well, I don't know. Why don't you talk to Tommy," my lady said, handing the phone back to me.

"Tommy, can you do the pictures for my wedding?"

"Um, Gracie, you know I'm not really a wedding photographer, don't you?" What was it with my friends and their wedding pictures?

"Oh, please, Tommy. It won't be hard. We're doing it at the little chapel just off the campus. I'm only having one bridesmaid, so it wouldn't be much work. Please?"

Hadn't Greg just said that the chapel wasn't busy when school was out? Looked like he might have gotten that wrong.

"Well, I suppose. When is it?"

"It's going to be the second Friday in June, the eighth"

"Gracie, I'll have to call you back. Beth and I already promised to be in another wedding, I just don't have the date yet."

"I understand," she said, sounding more than a bit disappointed.

"Gracie, I'm not trying to blow you off. Beth and I really have been invited to participate in two weddings already. We've got the date for one, but not the other. I'll tell you what. Give me a day or two to see if I can get the date and I'll call you back by Friday. Okay?"

"That would be great. Thanks, Tommy!"

Now just to pry the date out of Val.

"What is it with this summer and everybody getting married?" I said as Beth came up and gave me a hug from behind.

"I don't know. Coincidence, I guess."

"Are you changing you mind about waiting?" I asked.

My lady giggled. "And if I were?" she said.

Ulp. I knew we'd be married someday, but waiting until we graduated just sounded like a good idea.

"Just asking," I said.

"Relax, Tommy. I still want to wait, but not everybody is as patient as I am."

"What are we going to do if there's a conflict in dates with Val and Gracie? I mean, how do you choose one over the other without losing friends?"

"I don't know. I guess we'll have to figure that out if and when it happens."

Not much help there.

Wednesday morning Anse came up to me wearing a huge grin. "Tommy, did you hear about Frank Fowler?"

"No, but now that you mention it, I haven't seen him around since break."

"Well, you won't be seeing him. He decided to switch schools. He told one of the other guys that the curriculum here wasn't challenging enough. Can you believe it, from a guy who goofed off and took the easy way out whenever he could?"

"Yeah, I can. So no more Frank, huh? No big loss there. I never could figure out why he was here in the first place."

"Oh, you never heard about his grandmother, then."

"His grandmother? What does she have to do with it?"

"Oh, just that as long as he stays in school she covers all his expenses—rent, food, car, spending money, the whole thing, and it doesn't make any difference which school he attends. As long as he stays, she pays, so he going to try the University. Probably one of the Liberal Arts tracks with his knack for BS."

Some people get all the breaks.

I'd finished classes for the day about noon. Next stop: the photo lab to pick up my prints, but food first. I hit the cafeteria, grabbed a sandwich and a Coke, then looked for a seat.

"Hey, Tommy!"

I looked around and saw Val motioning for me to join her. Perfect! I needed to talk to her anyway about her wedding date.

"Hi, Val. How are things going? Getting the jitters yet?" I kidded her when I sat down.

She started chewing her lower lip. A nervous reaction that was the same as Beth's.

"Val, is something wrong? Something with Brad?"

"N-no, it's just that ... Tommy, would you be disappointed if we didn't ask you to do the pictures?"

"No, but can I ask why?" Why had she changed her mind? Was it something Beth or I had said?

Val let out a big sigh and looked ready to tear up. "Tommy, we were going to just have a small wedding. You know the story about my folks, and Brad's family probably wouldn't be able to fly in from Oregon, so we talked about it and decided to get married by a JP instead of having a fancy ceremony. We still want you and Beth there, but I guess that would make Beth a witness, not my maid of honor. Oh, and could you be a witness too, even if you're not taking pictures?"

"Sure, I'd be honored to be there," I answered, almost grinning at the relieved expression on Val's face.

"Val, have you set a date yet?"

"Well some time in June, probably the second weekend or so."

"Um..."

"Is that a problem?"

"Well, it's just that we've got two other weddings in June already, one June eighth and the other the fifteenth."

She just giggled. "We female-types really cause you headaches, don't we?"

"Yeah, but you're worth it," I replied with a grin.

Val jumped out of her chair and gave me a bone-crunching hug. "Oh, Tommy, I can't believe what a nice guy you are!

"Let me talk to Brad, but how about the twenty-third? That's a Saturday?"

"Sounds great. Have you talked to Beth yet?"

"No, I was going to call her tonight."

"Okay, I won't say anything and let you tell her."

"Oh, thanks, Tommy," she said, accompanied by another hug.

Well, so much for the month of June. At least there wouldn't be any conflicts. Now to call Gracie and tell her I could do her pictures.

I walked in the door at the photo lab and dead-stopped when I saw my Caribbean sunset as a forty-by-sixty print covering most of the wall behind the register.

"Hi, Tommy. What do you think of that?" Tim said as he gestured toward the huge print.

"Damn, I've never seen any of my work that big. When you said you were going to display it, I never expected anything like that!

"What does a print that size run?" I asked.

"Oh, about a hundred and fifty bucks, un-mounted. The mounting is the same again."

"Three hundred bucks? I guess I'll have to come back and look at it here."

Tim just chuckled as he reached under the counter and brought out an envelope with my prints for Kevin. I slipped them out to look at them over. The sunset was on the top, but after seeing it covering a good chunk of the wall, an eleven-by-fourteen looked tiny in comparison. I had just slid out the second image when somebody walked in the door. I quickly put both prints back in the envelope.

"Can you bill me for these?" I asked Tim.

"No problem. You sure you don't want a copy that size?" he said motioning to the huge print on the wall. "Of either of them?" he added with a grin.

The thought of seeing Gail almost life-size gave me all sorts of un-professional, dirty-old-man thoughts.

"Um, I-I don't think so," I stammered as I headed for the door, trying to adjust my jeans without being too obvious about it.

My next stop was the frame shop, where I made up the frame and mounted both prints, including the backing paper over the "special." I'd leave the official unveiling for Kev.

It was obvious when I got home that Val had called about her change in plans. Beth had that look that meant somebody was in trouble. I just hoped it wasn't me for a change.

"Damn it! Why would parents treat one of their kids like that?" I assumed she meant Val's folks and the way they let her know that they'd wanted a boy and that she was pretty much useless because she wasn't.

"I don't know. It seems like if you're going to have kids you would want to love them no matter what."

"Exactly! Val's father's attitude, just because she doesn't have a set of balls, well ... damn it, Tommy, somebody should remove his!"

The fierce expression on her face had mine creeping up as if to find a safe place to hide. Maybe back home, under the bed?

I carefully walked up to hug my irate lady. "Beth, I agree with you, but since we can't do anything about it, I guess we'll just have to support Val the best we can.

"By the way, did she mention the date change?"

"Yeah, she talked to Brad and that Saturday will be fine. Let's just hope not too many other things don't come up in June!"

All I could do was nod in agreement. With a little grin over her double entendre.

-------

"Tommy! Can you help me?"

I had just slipped my jeans off when Beth called from the bathroom. I opened the door and saw my lady was enjoying a bath rather than her usual shower. She had filled the tub so the water was up to the overflow drain. "What do you need?" I asked.

"I need my back washed," she replied with a grin as she handed me her washcloth and leaned forward. I knelt down next to the tub and began to run the cloth over the smoothest skin I'd ever had the pleasure to touch.

"Tommy, that's not really my back."

"I just didn't want to be accused of missing any important spots," I said as I pulled my arm out of the water. Perhaps I had been a little over-zealous in making sure I washed her entire back. Besides, just where does the back end and become the rear end?

"Anything else I can help with?"

Beth just leaned back and closed her eyes. I took that as a hint, dropped the washcloth, and started to "wash" her front.

The next thing I realized was that a hand had insinuated itself into my shorts and was stroking in time with my movements. Needless to say, it didn't take too long before I had to divest myself of my now-sticky underwear and join my lady in the tub to clean up. Beth was accommodating enough to move forward so I could slip into the water behind her.

Unfortunately, we both had forgotten something Archimedes had found many centuries before—something about water displacement...

"So who's going to clean up this mess?" my ever-practical lady asked, looking at the expanding puddle on the floor.

"Well, since you're the one who filled the tub so full, it only seems fair that you—OOF!—that WE both clean up. That is, after we finish making the mess..."

Taking my hint, Beth wiggled back, and it didn't take much for me to slip into her.

The cleanup was extensive but worth it.

-------

Friday after school Kev and Gail came over to pick up their pictures.

"Oh," Gail said, "that sunset is beautiful! I can't believe how gorgeous it is down there."

My brother gave me a quick look. I nodded—the special was ready for its unveiling. Kev turned the picture over and—with Gail looking over his shoulder— carefully pulled off the backing paper.

Gail's gasp was all I needed to know she liked it.

"Oh, Tommy, is that really me?"

I just nodded. Kev looked as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't get the words out.

"So, my guy is a pretty good photographer, eh?" Beth commented.

Gail just stared at the picture, then turned to me.

"How much did you change, Tommy?"

"On the picture? Nothing. That's all you."

"B-but I don't look like that!"

What was it with some women who can't seem to accept the way they look? I mean, this was the reaction I'd gotten that first Saturday with Beth, and now Gail wore that same disbelieving look.

"Gail, that's exactly the way you looked that day. The only thing I did was to remove a couple of stray hairs. And, no, Kev, not down there," I said with a grin that had Gail turning the same shade as the Caribbean sunset.

Once the excitement over the photos wore off, Kev changed the subject.

"Tommy, have you heard of a place called the Upstairs Club?"

"Yeah, it's a local club for kids who aren't old enough to drink yet. Why do you want to know?"

"Well ... um ... a couple of the guys at school were talking about it and we were thinking maybe we could go over there some time?"

I knew what he was hinting at. "So do you have your sleeping bags in the car?"

His sheepish look told me I was right.

"Um, yeah. Can we stay here tonight and we could go over tomorrow night?"

Beth was wearing her little grin.

"Kev, it's funny you should mention that club," she said. "I know the assistant manager. He's in one of my classes and I'm sure he'll let you in, even though the club is really meant for college kids."

"Wow, that would be great!"

"So, are you guys getting hungry?" I asked as I heard my stomach rumble quietly.

"Yeah!" Gail replied. "Um, could we go to that place with the pupu platters?"

A quick look at my lady settled the question. "Sure. You want to go now?"

It didn't take long to pile in the Jeep and drive to the restaurant.

I was happy to see Gail decide to get adventuresome and try the shrimp tempura, while Kev stuck with what he knew and quickly demolished a pupu platter all by himself. Beth and I split a sushi appetizer platter.

Back at the house we spent the rest of the evening talking; school, friends, the old neighborhood, it was all on the agenda. Kev mentioned that Old Man Jeffers, our surly neighbor, had died and I made a mental note to tell George that his cousin was gone. I assumed since the two hadn't talked to each other for decades he probably hadn't heard.

About eleven Kev and Gail exchanged a look I recognized. I looked at my lady and saw a knowing grin. "Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm going to hit the sack."

"So you saw the look, too, huh?" Beth said once we were in our room.

"The one that said, 'Aren't they ever going to let us get to it?' Yeah, I saw that. It's too bad some people don't have any self-control."

She looked at my jeans. "It's nice to see that you do," she said, with a snort.

I was proud of the fact that I was able to demonstrate my self-control ... at least the second time.

Saturday morning the four of us were sitting in the kitchen finishing breakfast when Beth looked at our guests.

"Well, what are your plans for the day? Anything special?"

Gail and my brother looked at each other.

"I was thinking of going back to those bookstores again," Gail replied.

"Sounds like a plan," Beth said. "Would you like some company?"

Kevin shot Beth a grateful look. Her comment obviously relieved him of having to ask. Even better, it kept me from having to invite myself along. Nothing better than spending time in a bookstore for me!

Well, almost nothing, but last night had at least taken the edge off.

We all piled into Kev's car, Beth and I in the back seat, with my brother studiously keeping his eyes off the rear view mirror.

About halfway there, Kevin looked a little confused and pulled over.

"Um, Tommy, am I going the right direction? I think I should have turned back there."

"Nope, you're all right, but you will want to turn on Chicago."

"Oh, that's right, now I remember," he said as he pulled back into traffic.

A few blocks later we arrived at our destination and piled out of the car. Gail and Beth headed back to the mysteries while Kev and I stayed up front to check out the latest in SF.

After a couple of hours perusing books, there was unanimous agreement that a stop at one of the local ice cream shops was in order.

That evening we got into Kev's car and drove to the Upstairs Club. When we drove past I saw a line reaching halfway down the block. Amazingly, we found a parking spot in a lot only a block away. When we got to the club Kev, Gail, and I got in line while Beth strolled to the door and talked to the guy playing doorman. After a few words, she motioned to us to come up. Walking past everyone ahead of us I noticed a few nasty looks.

"We can go right up," my lady said. "Trevor was nice enough to put our names on the list." So that was the call she'd made before we left the house.

Climbing the stairs to the second floor, it was obvious where they got the name for the club.

The second floor was almost all one big room. There was a permanent stage with proscenium curtains and everything at one end. The rest of the room was open, with the exception of support columns here and there. It looked like at one time it had been a meeting hall for the Elks or some other fraternal organization.

The center portion was obviously now a dance floor, with tables scattered around the outer walls. There was a "refreshment center" at one end that sold soft drinks and snacks. It reminded me of the snack bar at a movie theater.

The stage was set up for a band, but they obviously hadn't yet started their first set. The sound system was playing something that sounded like The Greatest Hits of the Eighties and Nineties.

The room was almost full, and while Kev and I got drinks, our ladies got lucky and found a table in one corner. It was fun to people watch as we sipped our Cokes. The crowd was a mix of kids from the university and a couple of the private colleges in the area. I even recognized a few kids from the Art Institute. We were there maybe ten minutes when the band members started gathering on stage. They looked like a pretty normal rock band—a couple of guitars, a keyboard, and drums. Only later did I realize they were an oldies group.

They began the set with a couple of tunes written by the band members themselves, followed by a country song I didn't recognize, even though Cindy had been trying for as long as I could remember to convert Beth and me to the genre.

Kev and Gail had been on the dance floor since the first number started while Beth and I waited until the band played some slow stuff. Finally, just before the end of their first set, the lead singer stepped up to the mic and shouted, "For those of you waiting for something more appropriate for a little vertical fornication, your wait is over. Oh, and I'd like to introduce Joyce Harold, who's got a better voice than I do." The band started the intro to Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow as a girl about our age got up, walked to the stage, and started singing. The lead guitarist had been right—she did have a better voice, although I was a little surprised to hear a song popular when our grandparents had been our age.

I stood up, pulled out Beth's chair, and led her to the floor. As she melted into my arms I whispered in her ear, "Yes, I will love you tomorrow." That earned me one of her radiant smiles.

A couple more slow numbers, including a pretty good rendition of Yesterday, and the band announced their first break.

The band started their second set with Dance to the Music, a barnstormer that had everybody in the place on their feet, clapping along with the beat. They finished their second set when the rhythm guitarist handed his axe to Joyce and picked up a violin, or I suppose I should have called it a fiddle, because they launched into The Devil Went Down to Georgia, another number that had the crowd going nuts.

Kevin and Gail came back to our table looking as if they'd just run a marathon.

"Looks like you two could use something cold to drink," I said. "Kev, why don't we fight our way over there and get something." With a sigh, my brother levered himself back to his feet and followed me to the snack bar, excuse me, Refreshment Center.

Joining the line, we resigned ourselves to a long wait. By the time we got our drinks it was almost time for the band to start their last set. As we walked toward our table I noticed a trio of guys were talking to Beth and Gail. Our ladies didn't look particularly thrilled by their attention.

"Oh, Chuck, you made it back finally!" Beth exclaimed.

Chuck? When did I become Chuck?

"Yeah, I guess everybody had the same idea." I looked at the guy standing WAY too close to Beth.

"Hi, my name's Chuck," I said, going along with my sudden name change.

"So who cares?" was the response.

"Yeah," said the second guy. "Why don't you blow?"

I glanced at Kevin and saw he was just about ready to unload on somebody. Time to de-fuse things. "Um, girls, are you about ready to go?"

The guy next to Beth put his hand on her shoulder. "You can get lost. The babes are staying right here," he said as he gave her shoulder a squeeze.

I saw Beth's eyes change just before she reached up, grabbed the guy's little finger, and bent it back until I heard the snap.

"Fuck, bitch! You busted my finger!"

I could see the outline of what I assumed was a knife in his pocket. As he tried to reach around with his good hand, Beth stood up, put her hands on his shoulders and delivered a viciously accurate knee.

As her assailant fell to the floor, letting out a scream that was high enough to impress a soprano at the Met, the guy standing next to Gail reached into his pocket, pulled out a blade of his own, and started around the table. My brother dropped his Cokes, stuck out his foot, and the guy fell flat on his face. Unfortunately, he came back up unhurt and swung toward Kev with murder in his eyes. Kev grabbed a chair and held it in front of him as if he was a lion tamer. The goon swung the knife. Kev responded by jabbing one of the chair legs into the guy's gut, doubling him over. As he tried to straighten up I saw a hand from behind grab his knife wrist and twist it, forcing him to his knees.

Trevor had come up behind him and had him on the floor, the knife lying on the floor next to him. As the thug tried to grab it with his other hand my brother stepped on the blade, taking it out of play.

Trevor produced a pair of cuffs from somewhere and soon had the knife-wielder trussed up. I'd never seen someone handcuffed with one hand behind his neck and the other up behind his back, but it looked painful.

The third guy? Gone. Apparently seeing his two compatriots in trouble was enough to convince him to vacate the premises.

"Are you okay?" Trevor asked Beth.

'Yeah, I'm fine. How about you, Gail?" I hadn't even seen her get out of her chair and back into the corner, as far from the action as possible. Kevin's girlfriend was unharmed. He quickly went around the table to hold her as the shakes began.

Me? I was still standing there holding a couple of cups full of Coke. The whole episode had taken place and I hadn't even moved.

It didn't take too long for a couple of the local cops to show up. They made sure the second goon wasn't going anywhere and turned to Beth's "victim," who was rolling around on the floor trying to hold his broken pinkie and his balls at the same time.

After giving our stories to the cops we decided that we'd had enough excitement for the night. Because of our little show, the band was about twenty minutes late starting their last set. They had just grabbed their instruments as we got up to get our jackets out of hock. The lead guitar player looked at the rest of the band and the Indiana Jones theme wailed over the room. The whole crowd applauded as we walked out. As if things weren't bad enough already.

Trevor came up as we were getting ready to go down the stairs. "Guys, I'm really sorry this happened. We try to keep people like that out, but, well..."

Beth assured him no damage had been done, at least not to us.

"Where did you learn to do that?" he asked my lady. "I was coming over to see if those guys were bothering you and suddenly the first guy was on the floor and the wild animal tamer here was ready to take on number two."

I glanced at Kevin and saw a combination of pride and embarrassment.

Once we got back to the house, everyone was ready to call it a night. Kev and I graciously offered the girls the first shot at the bathroom. Beth told Gail to take her shower first. The younger girl had stopped shaking, but looked more than ready to clean up and crawl in next to her savior.

Speaking of. "Kev, how did you know to react like that? I mean, tripping the guy and then defending yourself with a chair?"

"Tommy, I don't know. I just saw the guy pull the knife and the only thing I thought of was keeping him from hurting Gail. The rest just sort of happened. Wouldn't you have done the same thing?"

Good question. Based on my (in)actions earlier, I really didn't know.

Eventually, it was my turn in the shower. When I was done, I crawled into bed still feeling miserable.

"Tommy, what's wrong?" Beth was propped up on one arm, looking worried. What did she have to be worried about? The hero of the evening?

"What's wrong? What do you think! You and my brother wiped the floor with those two and what did I do? Stood there holding the drinks like a damned waiter! That's what's wrong!"

"Tommy," she said as she slid over to cuddle, "you were on the far side of the table. What could you have done?"

"I don't know. But I just stood there! I didn't even think to throw a drink to distract one of them. Even Gail had the sense to move, even if it was only to get out of the way."

"Can't you see that you couldn't have done anything anyway? Some times just standing there is exactly the right thing to do," Beth said as she pulled me closer and snaked her hand between us.

Nothing. Even her magical cure-all wasn't working.

Eventually, she gave up and rolled to her side of the bed. I rolled over to my side. Even cuddling didn't seem the thing to do.

As I drifted off I heard Beth quietly crying.

Feeling useless, miserable and impotent, I finally fell asleep.



-------

Chapter 12


Sunday morning I didn't want to move. Maybe if I stayed there long enough, with the pillow over my head, Gail and my brother would leave and I wouldn't have to face them.

Eventually, I gave up and crawled out, visited the bathroom and wandered into the kitchen where I ran into a bubbly Gail.

"Could you believe last night?! I mean, Beth and Kevin handling those thugs. Those three creeps wouldn't leave us alone and I was really scared until I saw you and Kev coming back. I knew you guys would take care of them."

Yeah, sure "we" would.

Beth walked into the room and came over to give me a morning kiss. "You feeling better this morning?" she asked.

"I'm all right," I snarled. In return I got a look that said this would be discussed after our guests left.

"Okay, Tommy, how long is this going to go on?" Kev and Gail had just left when Beth turned on me. "So you weren't the hero of the evening? So what?"

"Beth, I just stood there. That creep could have hurt you!"

"So? He could have hurt you, too. You're not going to go caveman on me are you? 'Ug, me man. Protect woman.' It was fun at that first Halloween party, but this is real life."

"I'm not trying to go all macho on you. I just ... I don't know ... I guess I just don't feel very good about myself right now."

"If it's that important that you feel you can protect me, why not sign up for a self-defense class?"

"Maybe I should. Is that how you knew what to do last night, because you'd studied some martial arts?"

"Tommy, I don't know why I did what I did, it just sort of happened. I didn't plan it or anything. You remember that day with Jason? When he interrupted our yard party? Even though I'd said the next time I saw him I was going to kick his balls into the next time zone, my reaction that day wasn't planned, it just sort of happened. I don't think my self-defense training had anything to do with it. Well, last night was kind of the same thing. I saw that slime-ball's hand on my shoulder and just reacted. I WILL admit that when I saw him trying to fish out his knife I knew I had to stop him and used one of the techniques I'd been taught, but that first move was pure instinct.

"So does it really hurt that much to get kicked there?"

I felt all the blood drain from my face at the thought of being the recipient of one of my lady's all-too-accurate knees.

"Oh, Tommy, I promise I'll never do that to you!" she said, pulling me into a hug.

Tuesday was a light day at school and Beth had an improv rehearsal that afternoon, so I had time to check out one of the local Karate schools. I didn't want to say anything to Beth until I made up my mind if I really wanted to get some training. I'd recovered a little of my self-respect and I wondered if defense training was really something I wanted to do.

I talked to Kurt, the instructor, excuse me, sensei, who explained how the school worked and when classes were available. I could fit one of the beginner's classes into my school schedule. The first session was the following week, so I signed up.

While I was talking to Kurt he asked why I was interested in self-defense training. I hemmed and hawed around and finally told him about Saturday night.

"So you were one of the people involved at the Upstairs Club fracas, huh? I heard some guys ran into trouble when they hassled a couple of girls. Were you the guy with the chair?"

Oh, shit, here we go again.

"Um, no, that was my brother, Kevin."

"How about the girl who broke the one guy's finger and left him as a soprano?"

"That was my fiancé. The whole thing was over so fast I didn't even have a chance to react."

"Well, we can teach you some of the techniques that would work in a situation like that and probably be able to get your reaction time down. A lot of it is just what the military calls situational awareness. If you can anticipate what might happen, you'll be able to react faster if it does. You realize this training is mainly designed to give you alternatives to violence for handling things like what happened, don't you?"

"Perfect, I've never been one for fighting. If there's a way out of a jam without violence that's great with me."

"Good enough. You want to buy the stuff you'll need now, or wait until the first class?"

I opted to buy my gi and the beginners book Kurt used for the class.

Now, let's see if what I learned would do any good, not that I really wanted to find out.

I got home just in time to start a pot of spaghetti for dinner. I was getting some garlic bread ready for the oven when Beth got home from rehearsal.

As soon as she came in the kitchen and slammed her back-pack down, I could tell something wasn't right.

"Beth, what's up? You look like somebody just told you they were closing the Engineering school."

"Tommy, I just learned Oily Cart is disbanding! Steve, Jenny, Phil, and Horace are all graduating so I'd be the only one left."

"Disbanding? Isn't there anything you can do? I mean, is there any reason the group can't continue?'

"Oh, sure. You expect me to do a one-woman show?"

"Can't you audition some replacements?"

"I don't have time! Do you have any idea how much work that would be?"

I thought back to the shows we did in high school and remembered how much time everybody put in. I felt a little foolish for even mentioning the idea.

"Sorry, I wasn't thinking. So what are you going to do to satisfy the theatre bug next time it bites you?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe find another comedy group or audition for a show at one of the local community theatres?"

"Oh, I suppose. I just wish the gang wasn't breaking up!"

After dinner I went back to work. I was in the middle of trying to photoshop a difficult image when a knock on the front door came as a welcome break. I opened the door and saw a familiar candy salesgirl and catnapper, Judy Kowalski, and her mother, Fran, standing there. Judy was holding a cardboard box that I assumed was candy for another school fundraiser.

"Hi, Tommy. Um, is Beth home?"

Just then, the lady in question walked around the corner. "Well, if it isn't the Kowalskis. What brings you to the neighborhood?" I realized I was holding my breath. After their last visit I wasn't sure how Beth would react seeing them again.

Judy put the box on the floor. "After we went home with Blackie, I was feeling really bad about you," she said as she knelt down and opened the box.

Five furry faces poked up.

"Blackie got out a while ago and our neighbor's cat had kittens and she said since Blackie was the father, we'd have to find new homes for them and I thought maybe you'd want one of them to sort of make up for..." she wound down, looking embarrassed and unsure of what to say next.

I looked in the box and saw four kittens in various combinations of black and white, about the same age as Pyewacket/Blackie when we found him. The fifth one was all gray and the first of his/her siblings to put his little paws on the edge of the box and look around the room. Beth got down on her hands and knees to inspect our guests and the gray kitten immediately started to scrabble his way out of the box and into my lady's arms.

"We called that one Shadow, because he's all gray," Judy explained. Whatever his name, he and Beth seemed to have taken an instant liking to each other. She picked him up and he immediately started to snuggle into her arms.

"I'm sorry we just stopped over like this," Mrs. Kowalski apologized, "but Judy wanted to surprise you."

"Well, it's a pleasant surprise," I said as I watched the pair on the floor.

"So do you like him?" the young girl asked.

"I think that's a fair statement," I answered for my lady, since she seemed in her own little world as she cuddled what was obviously our new family member. I could see there was no question as far as she was concerned, and I had to admit it would be fun having a kitten again. "What are you going to do with the other four?"

"Do you want another one?" Judy asked.

"No, I think Shadow will do us just fine. I was just curious."

"We think we've got homes for two of them and the other two we're going to take to the Humane Society so they can find new homes," Fran responded. "They've got a no-kill policy so we're sure they'll have a good future."

"I'm sorry, I guess I got a little distracted," Beth said as she got to her feet. "Would you like something to drink? We've got coffee and Coke."

"No, thank you," Fran answered. "We should be on our way. I'm glad Judy convinced me to come over here. I wasn't sure if you'd even want to see us again."

"I'm so glad you did!" my lady responded. "I admit, losing Pye, er, Blackie took a little getting used to."

Not to mention the couple of layers of skin off my face the morning after,  I thought to myself.

After the Kowalskis left I went to the basement and retrieved all the paraphernalia from our first cat experience.

Being an optimist, I set up Shadow's bed in the kitchen, hoping he'd take the hint.

I should have known better. I took my shower and walked into the bedroom only to find someone had preempted my spot on the bed. I looked at Beth and got a little sheepish "I couldn't help it" grin. With a silent groan, I turned off the light and crawled in. Beth picked up the kitten and moved him down to the foot of the bed until I could move into my usual spot. As I snuggled against my lady's back and slid my hand into its usual spot I heard a little meow, followed by a furry body insinuating itself between us. There are times when the only option is to give in to the inevitable. I moved just enough to let our new housemate take what he assumed to be his proper spot and could only sigh as he fell asleep cuddled up between us.

The following morning I woke up to find him sitting on my chest, eyeing me about three inches from my nose.

"Blert?"

I guess there is something to this whole idea of heredity. Appearance aside, our feline freeloader was definitely his father's offspring.

I picked him up, put him on Beth's back where I swore he grinned at me, closed his eyes and went back to sleep. Me? I got up and got ready for school. What's-her-face didn't have any early classes that day and could snooze for an extra hour. Another indication that the universe was basically unfair.

The following Tuesday I attended my first self-defense class and felt a little out of place. The majority of the class were kids—maybe eight to twelve years old. There was one other guy about my age and a girl who looked great in her gi. Kurt took us through some warm-up moves and stressed the importance of being limber before starting each workout.

"Yeah, but if you're trying to defend yourself are you going to ask the guy to give you time to warm up?" This from one of the older kids. I had a feeling he was going to be a wiseass throughout the class.

Kurt just chuckled. "The warm-ups are because we're going to be working for an extended time. If you find yourself spending an hour defending yourself you've got more problems than just sore muscles," he finished with a grin.

Amanda, the girl in the well-populated gi, was in front of me and I swore she was trying to make sure I knew she was there. Was I going to be facing another Val?

After our hour was up I grabbed my stuff and beat feet. Chicken? Maybe.

When I got home I dumped my stuff down the laundry chute and fired up my computer to start on my project for Photography. Mr. Nordstrom had given us a list of subjects and one of them turned out to be on how to handle difficult lighting. I had just taken some warehouse shots for a client and this project could not have come at a better time. The warehouse was an older one that had about every type of lighting I could think of—incandescent, fluorescent, mercury vapor, sodium, you name it and I swear they had it. I'd tried to color-match as I was shooting by including a gray card in each image, but still faced a big job trying to get the colors right from shot to shot.

Beth had been spending a lot of time upstairs plotting with Cindy. Apparently even a small wedding required planning equal to the D-Day invasion. How she did it and still kept up at school was beyond the ken of mortal man. She came down from another session with Cindy about six. It was my turn to cook so I opted to take us out. As we neared the end of Spring quarter things started piling up. The quizzes got harder, I had three projects coming due and finals loomed, so I figured a night out was what we needed.

"Tommy, that's cheating! Since you were supposed to cook that makes it my turn to do the laundry. Now you're taking me out? That should get me out of doing the wash, right?"

"Well, if you want to take the clothes along we can stop at the Laundromat..."

Damn elbow!

I was in the mood for shrimp tempura so I took my lady and her elbow to our favorite Japanese restaurant.

"Can you believe we're almost done with our sophomore year? Halfway done," Beth mentioned after we got our tea.

"I know. It scares me sometimes when I think of being out on our own in two years."

After we finished dinner we drove around the campus area and just people-watched for a while. Frat Row was always good for a chuckle or two.

Back home, I dug into my project again while Beth started the laundry. I'd offered to help but she wanted to suffer over how unfair her life was. That probably meant I'd be making it up to her sometime. Somehow.

"So, what is this?" Beth asked, holding up the pants and jacket of my gi. Oops, I hadn't planned on telling her I had signed up for the class until I decided if I was going to continue or not, but when I dumped everything down the chute I'd forgotten it was her turn to do the laundry. Too late now! "Um, well, I signed up for a self-defense class. Today was the first session."

"Oh? And when were you going to tell me?" she said, walking toward me with a glint in her eye I wasn't sure I liked.

"I guess I forgot to mention it." Lame, Tommy, lame.

"So what have you learned? Anything like this?" she said as she did something to my hand that had my arm behind my back.

"Or maybe this?" Now I was on my back with my lady straddling my hips.

"You haven't learned much, have you?"

"Oh, I don't know about that. I know if I do this—" I slid my hands into her t-shirt and over her breasts, "—I can get a reaction. Or this," I moved a hand down past her beautiful navel and slipped it into her jeans, "I can get even more of a reaction."

With a growl, Beth attacked.

Sometimes self defense means exiting the area as quickly as possible, but in this case attack was the only answer. I grabbed the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head, slid both hands down until I could grab the waistband of her jeans and soon had her naked beneath me. Unfortunately, that left me with MY clothes still on. Luckily, Beth knew this routine and soon we were both rolling across the carpet in our birthday suits.

"So did you learn anything today?" she asked as she flipped me on my back again and started crawling up my body.

"I learned there's a good-looking girl in my class," I offered.

"Oh, yeah? Can she do this, or this?" she said as she enveloped me with her mouth.

By now my eyes were crossed and all conscious thought had fled. I ran my hands down her back until I could grab her delicious buns and pulled her up until we were face to face. As she slid down onto me I totally forgot about ... about ... what was her name?

Both of us were getting right to the edge when Beth suddenly levitated off me with a yelp. I looked down and saw Shadow sitting between my legs with a smug grin on his furry face.

"Why you little..." Beth started, then broke into laughter.

"You know what that little rat did? He snuck up and ran that cold, wet, scratchy tongue of his right up my butt!"

I couldn't help it, I started to chuckle. "And here I thought I was the one who could get a reaction like that out of you."

"Tommy, that's not funny! Where did he come from anyway? I haven't seen him since this morning."

"I don't know, but we're going to have to have a talk with him about his timing. Yes you, you little ghost," I told him, and got the usual cat response—a yawn.

"Ghost? Maybe he's got the wrong name," my lady mused. "Yeah, I think Ghost fits him better. Why don't you put him in the bathroom for now. And hurry back!"

I did as instructed, although thinking back to his father's exploits, I didn't think it would do any good. Maybe reason would work? "Can I get your promise to leave us alone for a while? I promise you can have your favorite spot when we go to bed." Maybe bribery would do the trick. He looked up at me and cocked his head almost as if he were considering my proposal, then sat down to wash himself. As I closed the door I hoped that wasn't his way of telling me to kiss my ass.

I got back out to the living room and found Beth had decided the bed was more comfortable than the floor. I walked into the bedroom and turned off the lights, climbed into bed with my lady, and nuzzled her neck as my hand found a very erect nipple. Obviously, she hadn't cooled off during my little side-trip.

Ghost actually waited until we were done before he did his magic trick of appearing at the foot of the bed. I reached down and picked him up, nuzzled his ear and whispered a quiet 'thank you.' He gave me one of those inscrutable feline looks, squirmed out of my hands and took up his usual spot between my lady and me. Some things never change.

-------

Beth bounced into the house after school a couple of days later. "Tommy, don't get too comfortable. We're going to audition!"

Audition? WE?

"Um, where did this come from?"

"I was reading the paper this morning. There's a little community theatre group that's doing Oliver! this summer and I remembered your suggestion for getting over the Oily Cart break-up. Auditions are at seven tonight and I want you there for moral support!"

"That doesn't sound like much fun," I said, pulling her to me. "How about some immoral support?"

"Is that all you think about?" Beth said as she snuggled into my arms and turned her face up to me.

"Not the only thing," I said with a grin. "Maybe the MAIN thing, but not the only thing."

"So what should we do about this problem of yours?"

"Oh, I'm sure we can come up with something," I replied, nuzzling her neck.

"I think you already have," she said as she reached between us.

We made it to the audition, but not by much.

I learned that, although the theatre itself was an outdoor facility in one of the city parks, the auditions were being held in the local civic center.

As we were sitting there, waiting for Beth's chance to read for the director, I had three people ask if I was auditioning. Apparently getting guys to be in their productions was as tough as it had been in high school theatre.

"Nope, sorry, my girlfriend is the one auditioning. I'm just here as a chauffeur." Beth just sat there and grinned as my nervousness increased. When the fourth person walked up I was ready to unload. Before she could ask, I beat her to it. "No, I'm not here to audition, thank you."

"Oh, that wasn't what I was going to ask. Would you be willing to help us out with the auditions? We need someone to read lines opposite the auditioners." Now that I could do.

By the time the evening was done I'd read lines for almost all the adult male roles in the show—Fagin, Bill Sikes, Mr. Bumble, and at least a half dozen more. I even had the chance to read with Beth as she read as Nancy, Sikes' girlfriend and eventual victim.

"So now we just wait," Beth said as we walked out.

"We? Who's we?"

"You know what I mean! 'We' as in everybody who auditioned, not those of you who chickened out," she said with a grin.

Saturday morning Jackie, the stage manager for Oliver!, called to tell Beth she had been cast as Nancy, the female lead. Luckily, rehearsals wouldn't start until school was out.

"Are you going to make a habit of this?" I asked her. "I mean, this makes two shows in a row where you die before the final curtain. What's next, Carmen or maybe Madame Butterfly?"

"Tommy, I can't sing opera!"

"How do you know? Ever tried?" That got me a curious look from my lady. Obviously she'd never considered the idea before.

Tuesday afternoon I was back at the dojo for another session. Again Amanda made sure she was in the row ahead of me and spent most of the warm-up time shaking her derrière at me. After my experience with Val I had little trouble concentrating on what Kurt was telling us, not Amanda's amazing ass, but the poor kid next to me was looking very uncomfortable. It was pretty obvious his twelve-year-old hormones were reacting to her gyrations. I silently wished him luck, but I didn't think Amanda was trying to impress a kid, or maybe she was just the type who has a good body and wants to make sure everybody knows it.

Beth was waiting for me when I got home. As Cindy's Maid of Honor she was responsible for throwing our friend a bridal shower and had roped me into helping with the preparations. Luckily, actually attending the gala event wasn't in the cards; Greg and I had been instructed to make ourselves scarce until one of the girls called and let us know the evening's fun and games were concluded.

After the duplex was deemed to be ready for company, Greg and I piled into my Jeep and beat feet. I'd heard enough about showers to know I didn't want to be in the neighborhood for festivities.

We were sitting in one of the campus dives watching the local inhabitants playing what Greg called the "I'm more eruditer than you is" game, people trying to impress others with how intelligent and well-educated they were. I remembered our parents and Beth's grandparents talking about their college days and apparently some things never change.

"So you're really going to do it," I kidded my best friend.

"Yup, we figured we were going to get married some day, so why wait," he replied.

"Tommy, you weren't serious that night we told you, were you?"

"Serious? About what?"

"I mean about renting to a married couple?"

Greg's comment caught me off guard, then I remembered Beth and I giving them a hard time about how having married people living upstairs would cramp our wild, partying ways.

"Greg, we were just kidding! Why would you think we were serious?"

"I don't know. I guess it's because some of the guys at school have been acting a little strange since I mentioned it. Almost as if it would be unnatural to have a married guy around. Oh, there're married guys, but they're the ones who got married then decided to go back to school. It's like getting married while you're in school is what's weird."

"Greg, don't worry about it. You and Cindy are welcome to stay as long as you want to, married or not."

We talked and nibbled on appetizers for a couple of hours before my phone rang—the party was over and we were welcome home. We walked in as the last of the guests were leaving ... just in time to help Beth and Cindy clean up.

Sleep was almost ready to visit that night. Beth and I were in our usual spots, with Ghost cuddled between us, on his back as I scratched the fur on his belly. I had almost drifted off when Beth started talking.

"Tommy, when was the last time you actually used your studio for taking pictures?"

"Hmmm ... I guess it's been a while, why?"

"I want to bring the rest of my bookcases over and they'd fit perfectly on the east wall."

"Running out of space in here, huh?" I said as I looked at the one overflowing case that threatened to take over our bedroom.

That's when I discovered a good reason to share a residence with a cat—having Ghost between us caused my lady's elbow to miss.

The next afternoon I got home and had to park in the street because Chuck had the company truck backed into the driveway. As I passed I glanced in the back and saw Beth hadn't wasted any time putting her plan into motion. Chuck and Greg were standing in the hallway waiting for me.

"A-hah, we were just about ready to give up on you!" Beth's dad exclaimed. "We were afraid we'd have to move those things by ourselves."

Beth, with her usual impeccable timing, showed up seconds after we got the last of the cases in place.

"Oh, great! Now you can help me move all the books!"

"Not until you feed us," I said. "I don't know about Chuck, but Greg and I need food!"

"You know, dinner does sound good right now," Chuck grinned at his daughter. "Your mother had a meeting to go to tonight and told me I was on my own, so this is perfect!"

Greg looked a little uncomfortable. "Umm, would the invitation extend to Cindy, too?"

"Oh, sure, why not. But I'm not cooking!" she said defiantly as she grabbed her jacket.

We ended up at one of the local steak houses—nothing fancy, just reasonably good food at prices most college kids could afford.

After we ordered, Chuck looked around. "This reminds me of being back in school. It seems like every campus has a place like this. I remember sitting in a place like this. We'd just finished finals and..."

As Chuck started in on his anecdote, Beth got a resigned look and turned to the bride-to-be. She and Cindy spent the rest of the meal discussing the upcoming wedding while we three guys polished off most of the food.

It started as soon as we walked into the house. "Now you can move the books!" Beth announced before I even had a chance to take my coat off.

An hour later we had the books and most of the miscellaneous papers moved and I called a halt to the fun and games.

Too soon, it was Finals Week. After living through Grossfeldt's classes, quizzes and tests I had no fear of what other instructors might throw at me, but it didn't keep me from studying ... or cut down on the worrying.

Then everything was over. School was out for the year, only two left! Next came all the weddings.



-------

Chapter 13


Now that school was over it was time for the next milestones—three weddings, none of them ours. But first...

"Tommy, will you come with me tonight?"

"Come with you? Oh, first night of rehearsals, right?"

"Yeah. Will you?" After all her experience on stage there was still some of the shy beginner in my lady.

"Sure I'll come along."

We got to the park and walked to the theatre. The cast was just starting to gather, so Beth joined them while I found a seat in the bleachers. One of the theatre group's board members covered some basics like the location of the restrooms and other important info about the facility. Then the show's director, Dan, took over and talked about the rehearsal process and what he expected from the cast. The whole thing sounded a lot like what we'd heard in school. When he was done, the cast started their first read-through. Scripts in hand, they just stood in place, the actors reading their parts with Dan filling in for the parts not cast yet.

Beth was uncharacteristically quiet on the way home. Normally she'd be talking my ear off over starting a new show, but not tonight. By the time we got home my nerves were on edge. It just wasn't like my lady to be so quiet.

"Okay, what's up?"

"Um, well, Dan asked if you had any experience with theatre."

Oh, oh. Here it comes.

"And what did you say?" I asked with more than a little trepidation.

"I said you did, especially on the technical side and ... I'm sorry, Tommy, I volunteered you!"

"Volunteered for what?"

"Well, he said he needed someone who could help build sets and that kind of stuff."

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

"So you volunteered me to help, huh?"

"Only if you want to. I told him I'd ask you. You don't have to, but as long as I was going to be there, I thought it would be nice to have you there, too."

I thought about it. It wasn't like I had a lot of things to do in the evenings, so why not? And that's where it started.

...

"Tommy, are you coming to bed soon?"

"Yeah, I just wanted to finish up my notes for next Friday."

It was the week before Gracie's wedding and I was busy trying to learn all the tricks of wedding photography.

When I crawled in next to Beth and Ghost my lady looked at me. "Tommy, are you sorry you said 'yes' to Gracie?"

"Oh, I guess not really sorry. I just don't want to disappoint her by not doing a good job. You know I've never shot a wedding before and I'm afraid I'll miss an important picture."

"If you don't relax you'll be in the hospital with an ulcer and won't get ANY pictures!"

Tuesday afternoon Beth came home from work and found me checking web sites for information on wedding photography and filling a text file with notes.

"Tommy, get your jacket."

"Huh?" I looked up from my computer.

"Where are we going?" I said as I saved my file.

"Out for dinner and a movie. You're driving me nuts."

I guess maybe I had been a bit preoccupied. But the wedding was Friday and this was Tuesday already.

"Tommy, you're going to have to give this a rest or you're going to be so keyed up you won't be worth a damn to Gracie on her big day."

"I know, I just..." I ran down. I'd been nervous before a shoot before, so what was it about this one? Did I really think I couldn't do it?

One thing I'd learned about my lady: If she wanted something, she'd get it, and soon she had me forgetting Friday. At least for a while.

She drove to our favorite little restaurant where she kept me in stitches describing some of the strange things she'd run into working at her folks' shop.

"Some guy came in and asked if we could build him a computer. I explained that CNC machining didn't have anything to do with actually building them. Then there was the woman who asked if we could drill a hole in her cutting board so she could hang it up! I swear some people shouldn't be let out without a keeper."

After our meal we walked around the corner to a theater where they were showing Charade, the Cary Grant, Audrey Hepburn classic. We'd seen it on TV, but it was much more fun being in a theater with an audience. Anyone who thinks streaming videos and DVDs will kill movie houses doesn't understand crowd psychology. There's just something about sitting in a theater watching a film with others, even strangers.

When we walked out of the theater I was glad I had my jacket. It might have been June but the evenings could still be chilly.

Once we got home, I was ready to crash. I finished in the bathroom just in time to see Beth walk out of the bedroom with Ghost in her arms. She was whispering to him as she headed for the kitchen. Would she have more luck trying to talk him into something than I did?

When my lady came back around the corner she was gloriously nude and was wearing that look. I reached over and turned out the light, expecting her to crawl in next to me. I was wrong. The next thing I knew she started caressing my legs. As she worked her way up, she crawled onto the end of the bed and pulled my legs apart. As she ran her fingers up the inside of my thighs I felt a warm pair of lips working their way up my rising shaft. As her tongue toyed with the crown I felt her fingers circling the base. That had me moaning in expectation.

"Are you relaxed yet?" she said in a deep, throaty whisper. All I could do was groan and whimper. As keyed up as I'd been it didn't take her long to relax me the rest of the way and soon I was telling the world about it.

"I'm glad Cindy and Greg aren't upstairs tonight," Beth chuckled. "I'd hate to have them think anything unsavory was happening down here."

I just growled, flipped her over on her back and returned the favor. I intended to stretch things out until she was begging for mercy, but it just wasn't going to happen. As I got close I felt something on my leg ... then my butt ... then my back ... and then my shoulder. As our feline voyeur looked down at my lady she opened her eyes and tried to give him a stern look.

"I thought we had an agreement," she gasped. Ghost just stared at her, settled down on my shoulder, and licked his chops as I started to move again.

I hoped he enjoyed the ride as much as I did!

Wednesday morning I was back at it early and feeling a little foolish. Since I started doing photography for others I'd unconsciously developed an attitude about wedding photographers. It wasn't anything blatant, but somehow I'd picked up the feeling that the people who did weddings weren't real professionals. I don't know if it was because there were so many part-timers shooting their cousin's wedding or what caused it, but I suddenly realized I'd turned into a photo snob.

Studying up for Gracie's wedding cured that. I was frankly surprised at the craft some wedding photographers put into their work.

"I still don't understand why you're so worried about Friday," Beth said as she got ready for work Thursday morning. "It's certainly not the biggest assignment you've ever had."

"I guess it's because all my previous work has had the option to re-shoot the pictures if they didn't turn out. With a wedding, I'll only have one chance to get everything right."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

I thought about her offer. "Well, yeah, now that you mention it. Will you be my assistant? I mean be there to make sure I don't forget anything on the list, make sure Gracie's dress looks right and I don't line people up on the wrong side. You know, stuff like that."

"Hmm, I suppose. Do I get paid for something like that? I mean, what does a photographer's assistant usually get?" I could hear the lewd chuckle behind her question. I guess she figured she'd found a good way to distract me. Smart girl.

Friday we drove to the chapel. I had a camera in hand, another around my neck, and a bag full of all the ancillary stuff I might need. I just hoped I wouldn't mess up anything.

I made sure we got there early enough to catch Gracie when her mother drove up to let her out, already gowned, hair styled, and looking great.

"You look fantastic!" I told our friend.

"Thanks, Tommy." I could see the red creeping up her throat as I snapped pictures of her in all her glory and wondered if any of them would end up in the album for this special day. "I'm so nervous. I hope I don't mess up today."

"Gracie, don't worry about it. Just think of it as another photo shoot and you'll do fine." I glanced at Beth and saw a little grin. Maybe her way of telling me to follow my own advice?

I was just finishing up the formal shots of Gracie by herself when Joey walked in.

"Hey, there's the groom. You clean up pretty good," I kidded our friend. Joey was wearing a tux and, truth be told, did look pretty good.

He and Gracie had decided to do the formal pictures before the ceremony itself, thinking everyone would be fresh, makeup un-smudged and clothes un-wrinkled. Besides, it would give everybody a chance to relax before the big moment.

Beth was her usual organized self and soon had the couple properly arranged for their first formal picture. I was a little amazed at how much fussing she did—making sure Gracie's train was arrayed properly and every fold of her dress was where it belonged. I thought back to our first shoot with Gracie and grinned. Today was a far cry from posing behind a tree. After starting with Gracie and Joey we added people as the rest of the wedding party arrived.

We finished the formal pictures just as the guests started to arrive, so we moved out of the chapel to wait until everyone was in.

Soon the organ music started and Joey and his best man moved into position. The organist segued into the traditional wedding march and Gracie and her father came down the aisle while I snapped images of the grinning bride and her proud father. Once Gracie's father turned her over to her soon-to-be husband, I went up to the choir loft at the front of the church to get the pictures of the ceremony itself. I had assured the minister that I wouldn't be using a flash during the ceremony which seemed to surprise him. Apparently some photographers hadn't discovered a tripod and time exposures yet.

I was down from the choir loft and standing at the back of the church when I heard "You may kiss the bride." Then Gracie and Joey were turning around and being introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Samuelson for the first time.

I got pictures of the newlyweds coming back down the aisle, Gracie looking radiant and Joey with a proud grin from ear to ear.

As the reception line was progressing I took shots of the happy couple and their guests, then it was off to the reception at one of the local hotels for more pictures ... and food! As we circulated through the reception I had a chance to catch up with a bunch of the kids I'd known in school. I saw a couple of Beth's "mice" and noticed both were sitting with guys. I guess my lady's advice and nudging worked.

I was a little bemused when Gracie's sister Cheryl came up to me during the reception.

"Are you the photographer that did the pictures for my sister? You know, the ones in the woods?"

"Um, yes, I am."

"Could you ... I mean would you do one for me, too?"

"How old are you?"

"I've just graduated. I turned eighteen and I want to do something for my boyfriend and when I saw the special pictures you did for Gracie, well, I thought..." she ran down and it was obvious she wasn't real comfortable talking about the idea. I gave her one of my cards and told her to call me. As she walked away I wondered if I should mention anything to Gracie, then thought better of it. I mean, if Cheryl was of legal age it shouldn't be any of her older sister's business.

We got home late and my first thought was to get all of today's images copied from my camera's memory cards to my computer. That done, I plugged in an external drive and copied everything, then made another backup to a DVD. Paranoid? Probably, but I wanted to make sure I wouldn't have to call Gracie and tell her something went wrong. I also made myself a promise to NEVER accept another wedding shoot. At least the worst was over. Now it was just a matter of making up a proof book for the bride and waiting until she decided which prints she wanted.

Saturday afternoon I was working on Gracie's pictures when my phone rang. It was Cheryl calling about a session with me. We tentatively set up a time for the following Wednesday afternoon. When Beth got home I mentioned it to her.

"She certainly didn't waste any time, did she?"

"No, she didn't. Can you get free Wednesday afternoon?"

"Want a chaperone, huh?" my lady grinned.

"Well, yeah. That, and an assistant," I replied with a matching grin.

"Speaking of assistants, you haven't paid me for helping out on Friday."

"You're right," I said as I picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, with Ghost following us. It was almost spooky how that cat would disappear for the whole day, only to show up when we really didn't need an audience.

Wednesday I'd already loaded my Jeep for the shoot when Beth pulled into the driveway.

"Did you grab everything?" she asked.

"Yup. All loaded and ready to go," I said as she opened the back of my Jeep and started rooting around.

"Hmm. Give me a minute," she said as she walked to the house. Now what? Had I forgotten something?

Beth was back shortly carrying a bag that she tossed in the back.

"Okay, now we can go," she declared, leaving me wondering what was in the bag.

We picked up Cheryl and drove to the farm, with our passenger keeping up a constant monologue the whole drive. Beth glanced at me and winked. Looked as if our latest client was just a tad nervous.

When we got to the farm we unloaded everything, including Beth's mystery bag, and carted it to what was becoming my outdoor studio.

"Why don't we start with some general poses?" I suggested, thinking it would help calm Cheryl's nerves.

After a half hour of posing fully-clothed with trees, stumps, fallen branches, and anything else we could find, Cheryl was loosening up. Then Beth shot me her "disappear" look.

"Woops, forgot one of my filters," I said as I started back for the Jeep.

When I got back I saw a pile of clothes on a stump and Cheryl was draped in the same thin fabric we used for Sherry's portrait. So that was what was in the mystery bag. Again I was reminded of a big difference between Beth and myself—I would have thought of the veil after we got there.

As we started working through poses I made sure I turned around between shots. By the time we were done with the poses I had planned, Cheryl had loosened up a lot and was pulling the fabric tight against her body, removing any question as to her gender.

"Well, I think that should do it," I said.

"Um, Tommy, could I do one without the cloth? I mean kinda like Gracie's?"

"Sure, if you want to."

We ended up with half a dozen semi-nude shots with Cheryl partially hidden by a tree and one with her sitting on a stump with her hands strategically posed to hint at more than the pose actually showed.

When we were done I grabbed the first load of stuff and started for the Jeep so Cheryl could undo the dance of the seven veils in private.

As we drove back I told her I'd have a CD ready in about a week. I could have done it sooner, but with Gracie's pictures to finish up and Greg and Cindy's wedding coming up I didn't want to work myself into a corner.

I spent Thursday finishing up Gracie's proofs. I knew they'd be on their honeymoon for another week, but I wanted to get them done. It was too easy for me to procrastinate.

The day before Greg and Cindy's Friday nuptials Greg's parents threw the usual groom's dinner. We met in one of the private rooms upstairs at our favorite fancy restaurant—the same one Greg and I had taken our ladies to on several occasions. It turned into a long evening, and both Beth and I were more than ready to crash when we got home. Greg and Cindy took a lot of ribbing about spending the night before their wedding together, but Cindy put her foot down, declaring it would be just a bit hypocritical for her to spend the night at her parents' house when she and Greg had been cohabbing for two years. Beth's offer of our couch got the laughter it deserved, with Cheryl saying Greg would end up sneaking upstairs anyway.

Friday morning we crawled out of bed late and just vegged for most of the day. The wedding wasn't until seven, but since both Beth and I were in the wedding party we had to be there by five. Plenty of time to recover from last night's revelry.

Beth and I got to the chapel early so we'd have some time to spend with our friends before everyone else showed up. Eventually the rest of the party arrived and the photographer started setting up his shots. I spent most of the time watching the photographer, trying to spot anything I'd missed with Gracie. I had sworn not to do another wedding but I'd also gotten in the habit of learning for learning's sake. Besides, I never knew when something I picked up would be useful in another situation.

Eventually, the photographer was done and we retreated to our respective rooms to wait for the ceremony to start.

Greg and I were in one of the chapel's offices when Greg looked down at his tux and let out a little chuckle.

"Okay, what's so funny?" I asked.

"Oh, I was just thinking of what a funny word cummerbund is. Kinda sounds like something nasty in German, doesn't it?"

That pretty much convinced me that my best friend had lost it. I mean it was maybe ten minutes before he was going to get married and he's thinking about nasty definitions for clothes?

I heard the organ music change. That was our cue.

I looked at Greg. "You ready to go?" I asked.

"Yeah, let's do this!" he responded enthusiastically as he left to get into position at the front of the chapel.

I joined Beth at the back of the room and, when the music that was our cue began, started down the aisle to where Greg was waiting. I glanced at my lady, marveling again at what a beauty I had found. Her light brown hair was styled and the blue dress she and Cindy had chosen fit her perfectly.

When we go to the front of the chapel, Beth turned one way and I turned the other, to stand next to my friend. It was only a few seconds later when I heard the organist begin Mouret's Rondeau. Cindy and Greg had decided not to use any traditional wedding music and I thought this sounded much better.

Cindy came down the aisle on her dad's arm, looking beautiful in her white wedding dress. Beth had told me that she and Cindy had spent several Saturdays dress hunting. From the way Cindy looked I had to admit the effort was well worth it. Standing next to my best friend since first grade—back when we both thought all girls had cooties—I was happy we'd been proven wrong.

I'm ashamed to admit I don't remember most of the ceremony. Looking back, it seemed I spent more time watching the photographer than I did the service. Even though Gracie's wedding had been a success, at least from a photographic standpoint, I found myself again comparing what I'd done to this photographer's techniques.

I came out of my trance just in time to hear "You may kiss the bride." After a rather self-conscious peck between our friends the organist began a Bach piece I couldn't name. Beth and I followed the old married couple back down the aisle.

The reception was held at a nearby restaurant. Cindy's parents had reserved a big room since there were going to be more people than had attended the ceremony itself—about three times as many.

"Well, how does it feel to be married?" I asked Cindy once the receiving line broke up.

"I'll let you know after the honeymoon," she replied with an obscene grin. Beth's parents and mine had offered the use of our island place as a wedding present and Greg's folks had given them the plane tickets—open-ended plane tickets. After all the stories we'd told them about life on the island it was obvious both Cindy and Greg were excited to see for themselves.

After the reception we drove our newly-married friends to a hotel near the airport so they could catch their early flight without having to hassle with rush-hour traffic.

"You did call Bob and Sue, didn't you?" my lady asked as we drove home.

"Oh, yeah. They agreed to meet the newlyweds at the airport and make them feel at home." I thought back to some of our time with the Webbers. I was pretty sure Cindy and Greg would find a warm Caribbean reception.

Monday morning my phone rang.

"Hi, Tommy? This is Jim Moore. Would you be available to take some pictures for us?"

I thought back to the previous shoots I'd done for Jim—including the aerial pictures of their new factory.

"Sure, I'd like to do some more work for you. What do you need?"

"We just got some new equipment and we want to show it off on our web site."

"Will you need a model? The reason I ask is the only one I know is on her honeymoon right now."

I heard Jim laugh. "Nope, no model this time."

"Okay, how about Wednesday? About ten?"

"Sounds good. I'll see you then."

Monday evening I accompanied Beth to the theatre where Dan, the director, introduced me to Brian, who was the head of the scene and prop crew.

"Tommy, am I glad to see you," he said. "Getting people to help around here is like pulling teeth. Some of the parents are willing to help out with costumes and they're pretty good at scrounging up props, but finding people to swing a hammer or run a saw is tough. By the way, do you know anything about welding?"

I thought back to my first project with Beth and could only chuckle. "Yeah, and if I can't do it I know someone who can help."

"Oh, yeah? Who?"

"The girl who's playing Nancy. She's the one who taught me how." Okay, so I was stretching the truth a bit, but my lady deserved it for talking me into this in the first place.

"Beth?" Brian glanced across the stage at my lady. "She knows how to weld?"

"Yup. And she can run a milling machine and a lathe and just about any other tool you can name."

Dan had the cast on stage doing warm-ups and Brian just shook his head in disbelief as he stared at Beth doing stretches.

"Well, tonight I thought we'd just try to put together a list of what we need and see what we've already got. Maybe we can re-use some of the stuff from other shows."

Driving home, I debated telling Beth about my conversation with Brian, but, nah, that wouldn't have been any fun!

Wednesday morning I met Jim at their new building.

"So where's your new gadget?"

"Right back here," he said as he led me through the shop. We stopped in front of something that looked a lot like a machine Beth's parents would have in their place.

"This is it," Jim said. "This little baby can cut through just about anything using only water and a little abrasive."

"How much water?" I asked.

"Oh, about fifty thousand PSI worth."

"Fifty THOUSAND pounds per square inch?"

"Yup. You don't want to get your fingers under that nozzle."

"I guess not. What keeps it from cutting through the table and everything else?"

"Just that water bath," he said, pointing to the shallow tray under the bars supporting the piece of quarter-inch aluminum he'd set up, ready to cut.

"You ready?" Jim asked as I pulled the Nikon off my shoulder.

"This thing isn't going to spray all over the place, is it?"

"Nope. Oh, there'll be a little mist, but that's it," he said as he reached out and hit the "go" button.

The head of the machine moved into position and I could hear the hiss of spraying water, but all I could see was a fine line slicing through the metal. As it moved I recognized the logo I'd made up for my business! I was so involved watching the machine I almost forgot my camera, but by the time the machine was done cutting I'd managed to get a good collection of images.

Jim took the finished piece off and handed it to me. "How does that look?" he asked with a grin.

I turned the piece over in my hands, amazed at how smooth the cuts were.

"That's quite a machine, but where'd you get my logo from?"

"Off your web site. I had one of our setup guys enlarge it and simplify it a bit so it would cut nicely."

"Yeah, but why?"

"Well, we needed some things to cut to test out the system, and I thought we could kill two birds with one jet of water, so to speak."

"I don't know what to say, but thanks. I know exactly where I'm going to hang it, too."

I told Jim I'd have proofs ready by the middle of the next week and drove home, holding that chunk of aluminum the whole way.

...

Another Saturday and another wedding. Beth and I met Val at the city office where Brad was going to meet us.

"So, are you ready for this?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah," Val replied. "More than ready, and I'm so glad you two agreed to be here for us."

"Where else would we be on your special day?" Beth asked.

Brad was about ten minutes late when Val's phone rang.

"Hello? This is she. WHAT? WHERE? Oh, my God!"



-------

Chapter 14


"Val, what's wrong?" Beth asked.

"That was the police. It's Brad. He was in an accident. They took him to the emergency room by ambulance!"

Beth grabbed me. "Let's go," she said as she took Val's arm and led the stunned girl out of the city office and down the stairs to the parking lot.

"Tommy, let me have your keys!"

"Why? I can drive."

"NOW!"

I dug in my pocket. When my lady uses that tone there's no argument.

How we made it to the hospital without needing an ambulance ourselves I don't know. There were probably a couple of the Laws of Relativity broken, along with every speed limit.

Once in the hospital we ran into the usual officious bureaucratic sort, in this case the rent-a-cop guarding the double doors into the Emergency Room.

"May I ask who you are here for?"

"Brad Hutchins," Val responded in a shaky voice. "We're here for Brad Hutchins."

"And are you a relative?"

"I'm his sister," fast-thinking Beth responded. "And this is his wife and her brother." There was no way to untangle that mess ... even if it had been true.

The guard handed us each a badge with "17" printed on it.

"You'll find him in Treatment Room Seventeen," he said, as if we couldn't read.

"Thank you," Beth said as the doors to the inner sanctum opened.

We found Seventeen and opened the door to an empty room. Just as we were going to back out a nurse walked in from the station. "Can I help you?"

"We're looking for Brad Hutchins. He was brought in by ambulance," Beth responded.

"He's down in X-ray right now. Are you family?"

Beth repeated her bit of creative fiction and the nurse seemed to accept us as family. "He's in X-ray to check his left leg. He came in with a compound fracture of his left femur. As serious as that is, his left ankle was also crushed during the accident."

"W-will he be okay?" Val asked as she chewed her bottom lip.

"It's too early to tell. They'll be monitoring him for any signs of internal injuries, too. One of the orthopeds was seeing some patients and came down to check on him. He'll know more when the X-rays are done. That may take a while. Why don't I get you a beeper and you can wait in the cafeteria, if you want to."

She went back out to the nursing station and brought back a small pager. "When this goes off he'll be back here. Make sure you hang on to your passes so the guard will let you back in."

We thanked her and left the room. Once in the hallway Val lost it.

"Oh, my God, What's going to happen if they can't fix his leg? And what's an orthoped?"

Beth wrapped the shaking girl in her arms. "Val, don't worry about it. It's amazing what they can do these days. An orthoped is probably just hospital-speak for an orthopedic surgeon. Val, he's in good hands. This is one of the top hospitals in the country, as both Tommy and I can attest."

"Y-you've both been in here?"

"Beth was brought here with a case of exposure after some guys forced her car off the road a couple of years ago, and I was in here to have my appendix removed."

None of us were hungry, so we just grabbed Cokes and waited. We sat in the cafeteria for almost an hour before the beeper went off.

When we got back to the room, Brad was lying in the bed looking like he was half out of it from sedation. His left leg was in a cast and his foot was all wrapped up.

"Brad? Are you okay?" Val asked her fiancé.

"Huh? Oh, hi. I feel like I was hit by a truck," he laughed as if he'd said something funny.

"Don't do that! Dammit, I could have lost you today!" Val cried.

About then a doctor walked in, chart in hand.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Jameson. Well, Mr. Hutchins, it looks like we've got some broken bones we're going to have to fix for you." Why do doctors always use "we" when talking to patients?

"We're going to move you up to a room soon and tomorrow we'll start rebuilding your ankle. It's pretty badly busted up, but I don't think we'll run into anything we can't handle. As far as your femur is concerned, that will have to stay in a cast for a few weeks and we'll be monitoring your leg for any signs of infection. I don't expect any complications, but with any open wound, infection is something to watch for."

After the doctor left Brad filled us in. "I don't remember anything. I was driving to city hall and the next thing I knew I was here. They told me a truck had run a red light and hit the driver's side right next to me.

"I'm sorry, Val, but it looks like I screwed things up."

Valery gazed evenly at her fiancé. "Don't worry about it. The doctors will fix you up and we'll try again."

A shadow passed across Brad's face. He didn't say anything, but it was obvious something was bothering him,

"Why don't we leave you two alone for a while?" Beth said, reaching for my hand. We walked back down to the cafeteria, grabbed an open table, and just stared at each other. I was thinking about the curves life can throw at a person and how lucky we'd been.

"Did you see the expression on Brad's face?" Beth didn't look any too happy herself.

"Yeah, I wonder what he's not telling us."

We sat there for an hour or so when Val joined us. "Dammit, I just can't get a break!" she moaned.

I had to choke back a chuckle over her choice of words and got a nudge under the table.

"Are they moving him now?" Beth asked.

"Yeah. He's going to be in 575 West. We can go up in a few minutes.

"First I get hung up over a guy who's out of his mind in love with you and now this." She put her face in her hands and started crying. Beth slid around the table to comfort our friend while I sat there trying to think of something reassuring to say. There's something about a crying woman that just leaves me tongue-tied.

We sat there until Val got her tears under control.

"I'm NOT going to let Brad see me like this! I'll be back," she said as she got up. Beth rose and went with her. When they returned a few minutes later she looked much better. Amazing what a little makeup and a helping hand can do.

We took the elevator to the fifth floor and followed the signs until we got to Brad's room. They had his left foot elevated with a pulley and rope gizmo, probably to keep him from doing any more damage during the night.

We'd pulled up chairs and talked for a few minutes when Brad reached out to take Val's hand. "I'm sorry for all this," he said. "Maybe it's better if you find someone who's not going to be a cripple."

Val almost laughed, then she saw the expression on his face. "What are you talking about? So it'll take some time to get back to normal, I can wait."

"Val, it's not fair for you to tie yourself to somebody like me. I'm going to be a cripple. I know what the doctor said, but I don't believe him. Just find a whole guy to love, not someone you're going to have to babysit for the rest of your life."

I stood up -- obviously this was a conversation best held in private. I turned around to catch Beth's eye only to see that she'd already walked out. I mumbled something about waiting down the hall and cravenly beat feet.

Beth was in the waiting area at the end of the hall. After sitting there for a short, uncomfortable time, she got up. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she said.

Her "few minutes" turned into almost half an hour before she came back down the hall. With her was a gentleman in a clerical collar.

"Tommy, this is Rev. Adams, he's the hospital chaplain."

I shook hands and gave my lady a questioning look. She just took my hand and the three of us walked back down to Brad's room where it was obvious he and Val weren't having much luck agreeing on their future together.

"Brad, Val, this is the Rev. Adams, he's the hospital chaplain. I thought maybe he could help." With that, she grabbed my hand and pulled me back down to the waiting area.

"Beth, what made you do that?" Neither of us were religious people and knew Val and Brad weren't either.

"I just thought an impartial third party might be able to help them work things out. It was pretty obvious the two of them weren't going to get anywhere by themselves and it would be easier taking to an outsider."

We were sitting back in the waiting area an hour later when Rev. Adams walked up.

"Tommy, Beth, can you come back in the room?" he asked, a funny little satisfied grin on his face.

"Sure," we replied in unison.

"You know, there're a lot of people who could use friends like the two of you," he said just before we got back to Brad's room. I wondered just what he meant by that.

Once in the room it was pretty obvious that Brad and Val had come to some sort of agreement. Val was sitting on the edge of the bed with her arm around Brad's shoulder while his was around her waist.

"Are the two of you still willing to stand up for us ... even if one of us can't, stand up, that is?" Val asked.

Beth and I looked at each other with the same surprised looks and immediately agreed.

"I realize this is a bit unusual," Rev. Adams said, "but after talking to both Brad and Val I can't see any reason not to complete what they had planned for today."

"Yeah," Brad said with a sheepish grin. "Val convinced me that she would take good care of me."

Looking at Val's face, I could see her determined look.

"I was able to get the orthopedic surgeon on the phone and he assured Brad that the damage wasn't permanent," Rev. Adams said. "Oh, he'll be in a cast for quite a while after they re-build his ankle and therapy will be tough. He said having someone with him will actually be a good thing and I agree."

"I still think it's unfair to expect Val to be my nurse," Brad interjected. "I don't want anyone thinking that's why I married her."

"Anyone who thinks that can go to Hell!" Val growled. "Oops! Sorry!" she said with an abashed look at Rev. Adams.

"That's okay," he replied. "That feisty attitude is one of the reasons I think this marriage is going to work."

"Besides," Val chuckled, "it's not everyone who can say they celebrated their honeymoon in the hospital!"

Driving home that afternoon Beth was wearing her self-satisfied grin that told me she'd done something sneaky.

"Did you have any idea that was going to happen?" I asked her.

"Who? Me?"

"Yes. You. You sneaky, underhanded, best friend anyone could ask for."

"Did I expect them to get married right there? No, but I figured a hospital chaplain would have some experience with situations like that and might be able to talk some sense into Brad."

"So strange ... three weddings and none of them alike," I said. "I wonder if they'll all stick."

"I hope so. With half the marriages failing these days the odds are against at least one of them, but I hope they all make it."

That night Beth wriggled up next to me, took my hand and put it in its usual place and I thought back to our first night together.

"Good night, my princess," I whispered just as I was drifting off. "And may flights of angels guard thy slumber."

"Mmmm..." was her only reply as she snuggled closer and joined me in dreamland.

The next morning I was finishing up Jim's proofs, all the while looking at the logo he'd done for me. I'd hung it right over my monitor and still couldn't believe it had been cut by nothing but water. When I was done I emailed the proofs to him and wondered what to do with my afternoon. I realized it had been a while since I'd seen Joe so I got in my Jeep and drove down to the photo shop.

"Hey, Tommy! How's it going?"

"Pretty good. I see it's about time to order some more adapters. I'll do that tonight. You got anything new and exciting?"

"Well, Nikon's got their new D4 if you've got six grand floating around."

"Yeah, I read about that, but that's a lot of money for just the body."

"One of these days, Tommy. One of these days."

"Hey, at least give me a chance to get through with school first," I kidded him.

That night Cheryl called. I'd emailed her the proofs from our day at the farm and I assumed she was calling to order some prints.

"Tommy, can I come over? I'd like to get a collage like you did for Gracie, but I'm not sure which pictures will go together best."

"Sure, Cheryl. We'll be here until just before seven. Beth has a rehearsal and I've got some set pieces to start on tonight."

"I can be there in ten minutes!" she said with a click.

True to her word, Cheryl knocked on our door ten minutes later. We spent a half hour or so debating which images to use—the only real question was which of the semi-nudes would look best as the centerpiece.

Once those decisions were made and she had chosen which image to use for the front, I made a note of the layout and promised the final prints, framed and ready for the big presentation, in a week.

"You going to show the final results to your sister?" I asked as I saved the layout and closed Photoshop.

Cheryl chewed her lower lip. "I don't know. I suppose it would only be fair, since she showed me hers, but she still thinks I'm just a little kid."

"Seeing these will change her mind about that," Beth quipped, which had Cheryl turning a delicious shade of pink.

Two days later her older sister called. She and Joey were back from their honeymoon and she wanted to see her pictures.

"Tommy, are you going to be around this afternoon and can I come over and get my proofs? Please, please?"

"I'll be here. Any time before six or so."

"Gimme half an hour!" And suddenly I was holding a dead phone to my ear. Twenty minutes later there was a knock on our door.

"Oh, Tommy, these are beautiful! But how am I going to choose which ones I want in the book?"

"Gracie, just take your time. Remember, I told you my fee includes a DVD with all of the pictures, so you can have me print them, or you can do it yourself. All you'd have to do is pick up a pack of inkjet photo paper if you want to do them yourself, or I can give you the name of a good lab."

"I can't believe you're going to give me everything. You sure that's fair for you? I don't know of any other wedding photographer that does that."

"Gracie, remember, I'm not a wedding photographer and I'd feel better if you have everything."

"Okay. I still feel like I'm taking advantage of you, but if you insist."

"I do," I said.

"You do what?" my lady said as she gave me a gentle elbow. I hadn't seen her walk up behind me.

"Whatever is necessary to keep my clients happy, of course," I responded with a leer.

Gracie stared at us, unsure if she should respond or just grab her DVD and head for the hills.

"Gracie, relax. I'm just giving Tommy a hard time. Gotta keep him in line, you know."

The next morning I checked my email and saw a message from Jim. He'd decided which photos he wanted—a couple of sixteen-by-twenties framed for their lobby and several more for their web site. I fired up Photoshop and started working on them.

When I had the images ready for printing, I copied them to a thumb drive and drove to the lab.

"Hi, Tommy, how are things going?" Tim asked when I walked in.

"Pretty good. I've got a couple of sixteen-by-twenties I need and next week I'll probably have some miscellaneous prints from a wedding."

"Yours?"

I had to chuckle. "Nope, not for a couple of years yet," I responded. "Neither of us is in a hurry."

"Your lady must be something special. Most girls are in a hurry to get married."

"As a matter of fact, it was Beth who said she didn't want to get married until we both finished school."

"You better hang on to her. She sounds like one in a million."

"Well, I think so!"

"So let's see your files. Any corrections or cropping?"

"Nope. Just as they are."

"Okay, give me a couple of days?"

"Sounds good. I'll see you then!" I said as I walked out.

That night we were at the theatre. Beth was on stage rehearsing a scene with Bill Sikes, her character's abusive main squeeze and eventual killer. Me? I was working on building one of the set pieces.

I'd finished nailing together a one-by-four frame and was just ready to face it with quarter-inch plywood. I'd quickly learned sets for an outdoor theatre need to be able to handle windy nights, something I'd never run into working indoors.

"Tommy, can I interrupt for a second?"

I turned around and saw Dan, the director, standing there. Probably another change in set design, I thought to myself. Then I saw Beth standing behind him wearing a look that seemed a combination of anticipation and guilt.

"Tommy, we've got a bit of a problem. We need someone to complete the cast. It's a small part, just a couple of scenes at the start of the show, then a quick bit in the second act. Would you be willing to give it a shot? I know you don't consider yourself an actor, but please consider it. Beth said I should ask you."

"Just think of it as payback for what you did to me during Dark of the Moon," she said.

"What part?" I asked, fearing the worst.

"It's Mr. Bumble. He's just a minor character that sets the mood and explains Oliver's life up to now."

"Well ... I suppose..." I made the mistake of looking at my lady. When I saw her pleading expression I knew I was lost.

"Okay, I'll do it, but that will cut into my time for helping Brian."

"Oh, don't worry about that. Like I said, it's a small part."

"BETHANY ANNE JONES WHAT HAVE YOU GOTTEN ME INTO?!" I had just looked at Beth's copy of the script and realized the Bumble character had four of the first five songs, including a solo number, plus a reprise of one of the songs in the second act. Small part, my ass!

My lady walked into my studio room with her head down, trying to look contrite. I wasn't buying it.

"Why did you ever think I could do something like this?" I asked, waving the script at her.

"Well ... Tommy, you sang in Fiorello and we really needed someone to do the part, and, I guess I ... Oh, shit, I really blew it, didn't I?" She looked up and I could see tears starting to form. I knew I shouldn't let her get away with it, but, dammit, has there ever been a guy who could stay mad at a crying girl? Especially one he loves?

"Come over here," I said.

Looking like a little girl who knew she'd done something that deserved a spanking, she slowly walked over to me and stood there, head down, awaiting her punishment.

I pulled her down into my lap. "I'm just a little disappointed that you let Dan sandbag me like that. If you'd asked me I would have had a chance to think about it and would have probably agreed. I might have asked for a forfeit, but I would have agreed. Instead you put me on the spot."

My lady turned to face me. "What kind of forfeit?"

"Oh, something rude, crude and unrefined, I'm sure," I said with my best leer in place.

Beth wiggled on my lap until she was sure she had my full and complete attention. "Maybe I can make up for my error?" she said in that little-girl voice she knows I can't resist. I reached under her, picked her up and walked to the bedroom, closing the door behind me, even though I knew it wouldn't stop Ghost for long.

We didn't break any furniture that night, but we did have to change the sheets. Something about an enormous wet spot.

-------

"Oh, Tommy, it's beautiful!" Gracie's sister Cheryl had come over to pick up her finished pictures. She'd been excited enough at the regular portrait on the front, but absolutely gushed when I flipped it over and took the back off to reveal the collage. She just stared at it. "Is that really me?" she said in a quiet voice. I just nodded.

"I ... I never thought I could look like that! Tommy, you must have done something to make me look that good!" she accused, shaking a finger under my nose.

I assured her what she saw was all her. Ten minutes later she was walking out the door with a little grin that made me think her boyfriend was in for a special night.

Later that afternoon we got a Skype call from Greg and Cindy. They'd decided to come home and asked if we could pick them up at the airport on Saturday. They'd only been gone about a month and I was a little surprised to hear they were on their way home already. Then I remembered our first extended trip to the islands and what Bob Webber had said about having to get used to the lifestyle down there.

The lab called the next morning so I drove down, picked up Jim's prints, and stopped at the frame shop to get them finished so I could deliver them on Monday.

"You guys look great!" Beth said as Cindy ran up for a hug. We'd made it to the airport in plenty of time and were waiting for Greg and Cindy in the public part of the terminal.

"Yeah, and no tan lines!" our friend exclaimed, pulling the neck of her top down far enough to prove her claim. Greg was wearing a big grin. "It sure didn't take long to get into the casual attitude towards clothes down there."

We gathered their luggage and walked our friends out to the Jeep. Beth and Cindy climbed into the back seat while Greg grabbed shotgun. By the time we were on the road our ladies were deep in a discussion over what the honeymooners had done, seen, and experienced in the islands.

"You guys hungry or tired?" I shoehorned into the backseat conversation.

"Both," Cindy answered, "but I'd kill for a good pizza!"

"To the Palace!" Greg ordered.

Janine met us at the door and led us back to our special booth. "So how's Jeanie doing? Getting used to retirement?" Greg asked.

Janine just snorted. "She's busier than she was when she was here. She's out in California at the moment. She said she'd always wanted to see Disneyland, so she's there now."

After Janine took our orders I looked over at Greg. "So how did you like the Caribbean?"

"Oh, man, talk about beautiful! Bob and Sue Webber met us at the airport and took us to lunch before we actually went to the island. That's one seriously nice boat he's got. Speaking of nice boats, your cat isn't too bad either, although neither of us had any sailing experience so we didn't even consider taking her out alone. Then the smart one"—he pointed to Cindy—"suggested inviting Bob and Sue to go sailing with us, then batted her eyes at Bob to get some lessons. We still didn't feel real comfortable, so we only sailed around the island a couple of times. The rest of the time we just used the jet skis."

"So did you get caught on the beach?" Beth asked.

"Caught?" Cindy said, batting her eyes, trying to do the innocent thing. "Why would you think we'd get caught at anything?"

Beth just gave her friend a knowing look that had Cindy almost rolling out of the booth.

"Did you even bother to get dressed in the morning?"

"Does sunscreen count?" Greg asked.

"Worked for us," I responded.

About that time Janine came around the corner with our pizzas and conversation came to a screeching halt for a few minutes.

"We saw your little friend. Jamie? His family is spending the summer on the island and he walked over one day," Cindy continued. "Caught me stretched out on the beach," she finished sheepishly.

"Yeah. I guess you completed the sex-ed class that Beth started last year," Greg added, giving Cindy a knowing nudge.

"By the way," Greg said as he wiped some sauce and cheese off his upper lip, "you remember telling us about Cecily Fitzhugh? Well, we met her. We were walking along the path one afternoon and there she was, wearing that ancient bathing suit, just sitting on a rock almost as if she was waiting for us."

"So what do you think?" Beth asked.

"You mean do I think she's a ghost?" Cindy looked a little, well, spooked. "Dammit, I don't know. I mean there's no such thing as ghosts, right? But how do you explain her?"

Good question. One none of us had an answer for.

"Did you see the house on the end of the island?" I asked.

"The one Cecily claimed to live in? Yeah. That's one seriously spooky place."

"So, did you go in?" Beth asked.

Cindy just shivered. "No way! Not after what you told us."

"We were a little surprised to get your call. We figured you'd be down there for at least another month," Beth said.

"So did we. When you came back early last year we both thought you were nuts. I mean leaving paradise early? What kind of sane person does that?"

"So you're saying you're not sane?" Beth asked.

"It was funny, but I felt a little guilty," Cindy said. "I mean, we were really enjoying ourselves and then, all of a sudden, one day it just seemed to be too much of a good thing."

Beth and I just looked at each other, fully understanding what our friends meant.

Once our pizzas were done we piled back in the Jeep and drove back to the house.

"So you didn't rent out our place while we were gone?" Greg said as we pulled in the driveway.

"Well, at least we don't have a cat to surprise you," I said, thinking back to our return last year. We invited Greg and Cindy in for a while, but they were ready to just go upstairs and crash.

Monday I picked up Jim's framed prints and drove out to drop them off.

"Damn, Tommy, you keep outdoing yourself." He was holding up one of the sixteen-by-twenties while he looked at all the other prints on the lobby wall. I'd managed to set up a remote strobe behind the machine while it was cutting my logo and got a shot with the back-spray frozen in time. I made a mental note to experiment with some colored gels to add to the effect just in case I got another chance to shoot something like that.

"We're going to have to start taking some of your original stuff down just to have room for the new ones."

"I'm just glad you like my work," I said, feeling a little embarrassed over his praise.

Monday evening we were back at the theatre, my first time on stage with this production. I think I did pretty well, considering that the rest of the cast had almost a month's rehearsals under their belts. I'd spent most of Sunday learning my lines and trying to remember how to sing. Luckily, I had Beth for a coach.

The next three weeks were spent trying to get my part down so I would have less of a chance of freezing my first night in front of a real audience. Beth and Dan kept telling me I was doing great, but I wrote part of that off to cheerleading. Or maybe they were trying to convince themselves they hadn't made a horrible mistake.

Eventually, rehearsals were over and it was time for opening night. Beth and I arrived at the theatre early enough to get into our costumes and take care of makeup before Dan called for warm-ups.

Greg, Cindy and all four of our parents were in the audience so there was no pressure.

Yeah, right.

"Take me to the farm ... now!" I'd come off stage after the curtain call and nuzzled my lady's neck as I whispered my plea. Unfortunately, it was at that moment our parents and friends walked up to congratulate us on a successful opening.

Well, successful from the standpoint that I hadn't gone up on any lines and managed to get through my songs without having my voice break. Actually, I'd had a blast so far. Since Bumble can be played as a threatening character or an officious clown, I'd decided to try both and it worked! When Oliver came up to me and asked for more, I thundered the first lines of the song Oliver! at him. From there I played the character as a caricature of every pompous bureaucrat I'd had the misfortune to meet. The audience seemed to enjoy it. Maybe they'd had the same unfortunate encounters with officialdom I'd had.

"Tommy, you were great up there!" Chuck said. "And as far as you were concerned," he said, switching his attention to Beth, "why can't you get a part where you actually make it through the whole show without dying?"

"Oh, Daddy! Where's the fun in that?"

Beth and I finally escaped, changed out of our costumes and quickly made it to the farm.

We were lying on the blanket after ripping each other's clothes off. I rolled toward Beth and slid my hand up her leg.

"I shall scream, Mr. Bumble!" she said, using one of the lines from the show.

"Funny, you don't look like the Widow Corney," I responded as I managed to inveigle my hand between her legs.

"I can be prim and proper, you know."

"That's fine in public, but there's nobody here but us."

"Then I guess I have no choice but to submit," she said and suddenly I was on my back. I like the way she submits.

As far as the show went, we had full houses every night and only got rained out once.

We had a couple of weeks to unwind after the run and then it was back to school.



-------

Chapter 15


Monday morning and both of us rolled out to the alarm. It was the first day of a new school year—our junior year! I was looking forward to this year, mainly because from now on every course was an elective, no more of the necessary—but uninteresting—classroom drudgery. One of the classes I was looking forward to was Advanced Composition on Tuesdays and Thursdays. There had been several times when I had looked at some of my work and wished I could figure out a better way to set up the shot. One of the problems I'd found with a digital camera was a tendency to start clicking away and assume/hope I'd get what I wanted. There had to be a better way.

That afternoon found me sitting with Anse David in one of the coffee shops near the Institute, relaxing after classes when...

"Thomas, imagine finding you here." I turned and saw Mr. Grossfeldt behind me.

"Hello, sir. Would you like to join us?" Since I was no longer in his Survey of Western Art class I'd found it much easier to talk to him. Anse looked at me as if I'd gone over to the enemy side or something.

"Um, I've got to run," Anse said as he got up and offered his chair to our former nemesis.

"Thank you, Thomas," Mr. Grossfeldt said as he sat down, "and it was nice seeing you again, Mr. David."

Anse mumbled something and beat feet out of the shop. I thought he was afraid our former instructor was going to hit him up with one of the impossible questions for which he was famous—or was it infamous?

"Well, Thomas, how is your photographic business doing? I have seen some of your work and I have to admit you show a good grasp of composition and lighting. Obviously you were paying attention in my class."

"Yes, sir. Thank you. I try to keep what you taught us in mind when I'm working. I'm gratified you've noticed my work." Gratified? More like shocked that he'd even found any of my stuff around. I mean, other than photos on some businesses' web sites and a few display pieces I'd done for some local companies, I hadn't thought anyone would have noticed anything I'd done. Did he keep track of all his former students?

"Thomas, it is most fortunate I met you today. You see, I have the need for photographs of a number of items. Might you be interested?"

"Um, well, I suppose..." Tommy! Get your act together and quit sounding like the village idiot!

"I mean, yes, sir. Can you tell me what kind of items?"

"I have several examples of the early work of the Old Masters, as they are colloquially known. Oh, minor pieces, many of which have not been shown before."

"Will you want these for display, or for a web site?"

"They will be used as illustrations in a book I am writing."

Grossfeldt was writing a book?

"Sure, I'd be happy to do that for you. Do you want color or black-and-white?"

Grossfeldt sat there for a few seconds as if he wasn't sure how to respond. "Will it make a difference? I thought it was possible to change a color image to black-and-white?"

"It is," I answered, "but I've found there are some changes in lighting and exposure that give better results when I convert them to black-and-white."

Grossfeldt looked impressed. I was tempted to look for the second coming—trumpets and all.

We discussed his project for a few more minutes and set up a time for the shoot.

-------

I could smell that Beth was home before she walked into my studio room. She'd stopped on the way home and bought some fried chicken.

"You won't believe what happened to me today," I said around a mouthful of chicken, and proceeded to tell her about my conversation with Grossfeldt.

"So you're going to do it?"

"Yeah. We set up a time for next week."

"How do you feel? I mean working for Mr. Grossfeldt."

"Scared shitless. No, really, I am a little nervous. I mean, he's the guy who really rode me in class, but I think I learned a lot from him and now I have to show him I remember everything.

"How was your day?"

"Ugh! Don't ask! I'm having a hard time with my fluid dynamics class. For some reason it's is giving me fits. I'll get it, but it's going to take a lot of work. I've pretty much given up on auditioning for any shows this quarter. Maybe something next summer, but not now."

Tuesday was my first Advanced Composition class and sitting in class would be interesting. If for no other reason than watching our instructor, Ms. Jones. There was a rumor floating around that she almost made it as a Playboy centerfold. I don't know if it was true, but looking at her was no hardship. Concentrating, maybe. Watching her move, not a bit!

Thursday after school was my first self-defense session since the summer break, and I noticed that both Amanda and the young teenager from the spring session were back.

"Hi, my name is Andy," he said.

"Hi, I'm Tommy, and this is Amanda," I said, motioning to our well-endowed session-mate.

"Um ... h-hi," the young boy stammered.

"Well, hi yourself, Andy," she said. "And I remember you from last Spring's classes, Tommy."

Uh-oh, this doesn't sound good. I probably shouldn't have admitted to knowing her name. Maybe I could do something to de-fuse the situation. "Yeah, my fiancé suggested maybe a class like this would be a good way to get some exercise."

"I don't know, you look pretty good to me," Amanda said with a sexy little pout.

Oh, shit, she didn't take the hint.

"Alright, everyone," Kurt said. "Let's start with some warm-ups."

Amanda took her familiar position in the row ahead of Andy and me and did everything she could to make it obvious that her gi was filled with nothing but healthy girl. I was sure if I looked at a dictionary under "callipygous" I'd see her picture.

I was pleasantly surprised at how much I remembered from my first lessons, and my little fib about getting exercise sure was true—by the time our hour was done I'd worked up a healthy sweat.

"Man, it's going to feel good to take a shower," I said, wiping the perspiration from my face.

"You need someone to wash your back?" Amanda asked with a leer as I walked toward the changing-room.

"Um, no thanks. My fiancé will be home by the time I get there and she knows how to get all those hard-to-reach spots." I glanced over at Andy and saw a look of pure longing. I also noticed he was holding his hands over his crotch and I felt sorry for the youngster. I remembered all too well what it was like to be his age, even though I'd never had anyone like Amanda to put those ideas in my head—either of them.

When I got home I told Beth about Amanda and her antics.

I was just finishing with my shower when Beth pulled back the curtain. "Move over, you can wash my back," she said with a grin. And her front, and everything in between. It didn't take long for any thought of Amanda to disappear. Which was probably Beth's intent, I thought. Well, I thought it as soon as I was again capable of thought.

-------

Mr. Grossfeldt met me at his door. "Come in, Thomas. May I help you with your equipment?"

"Thank you. I guess I have a habit of carrying more stuff than I really need, but I'd rather bring something I end up not using than try to make do because I was trying to travel light."

"Very wise of you. I have my pieces in the solarium."

Solarium? I thought to myself as he led the way to what looked like a porch to me.

As I worked my way through Mr. Grossfeldt's pieces I was reminded of doing the shots for the Institute's catalog—some flat art and several sculptures. None of them looked familiar until I got down to the last painting. "Mr. Grossfeldt, you've been holding out on me. I recognize this painting from your class."

"You have a good memory, Thomas, but this is not the piece of which you are thinking, but a work the artist did many years before."

"Was that common? I mean, for an artist to paint the same work again?"

"It was not uncommon for an artist to paint more than one version of the same work, but it was rare for one to revisit a piece many years later. In this case, there were almost twenty years between this one and the one you saw in the book."

I finished that last painting, but before I started breaking down my equipment I had a thought.

"Mr. Grossfeldt, do you have a photo of yourself for the book jacket?"

"No, no, I do not. Can you take one for me?"

"Certainly. Where would you like it done?"

"Oh, I do not know. Perhaps my desk?"

"That seems like a good place," I said. "I can move my lights in there with no problem."

Another twenty minutes and I was finished.

"Thomas, I know we already arrived at a price for my original request. How much will you charge for the portrait?"

"Oh, just a credit line with the photo will be enough," I answered.

"Are you certain? I do not expect any special consideration."

"Yes, the credit line will be enough, as long as you will allow me to add it to my portfolio."

"That would be more than reasonable. Thank you. Let me help you carry your equipment to your vehicle."

We got everything loaded and I started for home, again amazed at how human he could be.

A week later I emailed him the proofs and waited for his reaction. Obviously the book meant a lot to him and I tried to give him the best images I could, but I was still expecting to have to re-shoot at least a couple of items.

Three days later I got a call from Mr. Grossfeldt praising my work and giving me a list of the pictures he wanted for the book. I told him I'd bring a CD with the hi-rez files to school the next day.

-------

It was almost the end of October when Beth grabbed me as I walked in from the garage after cleaning up the yard. "Come on, Tommy, we're going shopping!"

Oh, great, my least favorite way of killing an otherwise beautiful Fall day.

"Beth, we just picked up groceries yesterday. Did you forget something?"

"Nope, this is a clothes expedition!"

"Clothes? What do you need now?" I mean, that shopping expedition our first weekend together had been special, but the thrill had worn off.

"Not me ... you," she said with a giggle.

"I don't have enough now?" As much as I disliked standing around while my lady tried on clothes, I absolutely despised shopping for myself.

"Not like this!"

"You're going to have to drive. If you're going to drag me shopping, I'm not going to help you in your abuse."

Our first stop was a used clothing store, where Beth had me buy a beat-up black leather jacket and a pair of black engineer boots that looked as if they'd seen better days. Her next stop was at the Nostalgia Candy Company, where the only thing she bought was a pack of candy cigarettes. What was she up to?

To make it up to me for dragging me around, she took me to our favorite campus steak house for dinner.

"Okay, what's up? I mean the jacket and boots okay, but candy cigarettes?"

Her reply was just a big grin. I was being set up again, but for what?

We got home and found Cindy and Greg sitting on the stairs waiting for us.

"We've got some news for you!" Cindy was almost bubbling over.

"What's up?" Beth asked.

"There're going to be three of us upstairs!"

"Three? Is one of your sisters moving in?" I asked.

Cindy just shook her head. "Nope, but it will be a relative!"

Suddenly Beth let out a screech and grabbed her friend. "When? How long have you known?"

"We just found out today," Greg said, slipping a word in edgeways.

Suddenly the light came on. "You guys are having a baby?"

"Yeah, can you believe it? It must have happened when we were on the island," Cindy said.

I looked at Beth and could see how happy she was for our friends. Was she changing her mind about finishing school before we moved on to the next step in our relationship?

We were in bed that night when I asked Beth about it.

"Why would you think that?" she asked. "I mean I'm happy for Cindy and Greg, but that doesn't mean I'm in a hurry to start a family. I've always said I want to finish school first, and I still do. How about you?"

"I want a family, but I'd like to get settled first."

"Then we're in agreement. Tommy, we can be happy for our friends without necessarily wanting to join them."

The Saturday before Halloween I was sitting at my drafting table, busy cleaning out files from my computer, when Beth came into the room. "Come on, Tommy, we're going to be late!"

Late? Late for what? I turned around and figured out 'what' as soon as I saw my lady standing there in a pink angora sweater and black poodle skirt, complete with white poodles. That's when I remembered the party one of the sororities was throwing. Beth wasn't a member of the sorority, but a classmate of hers had invited us.

"Hurry up! Your costume is on the bed."

I walked into the bedroom and saw a pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt, and my 'new' black leather jacket on the bed, and boots on the floor at the foot of the bed. That explained our shopping trip.

When I grabbed my boot I noticed it was heavier than it should have been. I look inside and found myself face-to-face with Ghost. "And what are you doing in there?" I asked our resident pest as I pulled him out and set him on the floor. He walked off to find another place to snooze, but only after I got a nasty look for interrupting his nap.

Beth met me in the kitchen and gave me the once over. "Something is missing," she said with a frown. "I know!" she added as she walked up and rolled the pack of candy cigarettes into my shirt sleeve. "Now you're ready!"

"No, I'm not. Where are my shades? Gotta have my shades!"

Beth just chuckled and tossed me my sun glasses.

"Now I'm ready," I said as I slipped the glasses in place.

The sorority house was only a couple of blocks away so we walked over, meeting a few more party-goers on the way.

It was pretty obvious which house was holding the party—the whole yard was covered in people in costume, some ordinary and some totally outrageous. It reminded me of our theatre parties back in high school ... on steroids.

We worked our way up to the house, marveling at some of the outfits, or lack of same. I saw at least three Adams and Eves and two Lady Godivas—each getup skimpier than the last. It was obvious from the cars crawling by that I wasn't the only one to notice.

Eventually we made it into the house and I could see why Beth chose the costumes she did. The first thing I heard was Chuck Berry belting out Maybelline, followed by the Beach Boys singing about their Little Deuce Coupe. We'd fallen into a time warp and ended up as Beth's grandparents!

The next number was Lady Gaga's Just Dance, which gave me the idea that whoever was handling the music had eclectic tastes. A little later I was sure of it when one of Dave Brubeck's songs came up on the play list.

"What is that?" Beth asked as she tried to clap along with the music although her clapping was more just moving her hands around trying to find the beat.

I shook my head. When the set was over I walked up to the DJ and asked.

"The Brubeck number? That was Unsquare Dance," he replied with a chuckle. "Think in seven-four time, and clap on beats two, four, six, and seven."

I thought back to the music and nodded as I got it.

We stayed until about one and walked home with a group that was going in the same direction. The streets around the university were reasonably safe, but there was no sense in taking chances.

The following Thursday I was in my gi waiting for Kurt to start our warm ups. Amanda was, for Amanda, pretty calm—at least until she bent over to adjust the bottom of her gi and her top gaped open to give Andy and me a quick anatomy lesson. I heard a strangled gurgle; I looked over at Andy and was afraid he was going to stroke out on the spot. I smelled a rat—normally Amanda wore a sports bra under her gi. 'So why not today?' a little voice in my head asked with an evil chuckle.

After our session I asked Andy if he'd like to grab something to eat. Being a normal teenager, I knew what his answer would be.

We stopped at a local coffee house that had great sandwiches along with so many different coffee combinations that I wondered if anyone had ever tried them all.

We grabbed a small table and looked over the menu. Andy looked at the prices and said he didn't want anything to eat.

"Andy, don't worry, it's on me."

"Oh, okay. Can I get one of the House Specials?" The Special had every meat and cheese they had, along with lettuce, onions, pickles and everything short of the kitchen sink.

"What would you like to drink?" I asked.

The young kid looked totally out of his element. "Tommy, I don't know. I've never even tasted coffee before!"

"Okay, trust me to get you something?" He just nodded.

I got in line and asked the barista to suggest something a neophyte coffee-drinker might like. She ended up making him something that seemed to contain more chocolate and milk than coffee.

"Tommy, did you see Amanda's tit? I mean she bent over and I thought it was going to fall out! She must not have known it happened or she would have been so embarrassed."

"Andy, don't kid yourself, she knew exactly what she was doing."

"Yeah, but..."

"Amanda is just one of those girls who likes to show off. I guess you could call her an exhibitionist. There are some girls who would be disappointed if you DIDN'T look."

"Huh? You mean she did it on purpose?"

"Yep, that's exactly what she did."

"Umm, Tommy, do you think she'd be interested in somebody like me?"

Oh, oh. How to tell a thirteen-year-old kid he didn't have a snowball's chance? I mean, Andy seemed like a nice kid. A girl like Amanda would eat him alive, or, worse yet, laugh in his face.

"Andy, forget about Amanda. Just enjoy the show she puts on, but don't try to get involved with her. I mean, would you really want to have a girlfriend who'd bounce around flashing everybody?"

"Well ... no, I guess not. You're saying she'd end up being like the pretty girls at school. If I try to talk to them, they just tell me to get lost. So what am I supposed to do?"

Suddenly I was back in high school, talking to the guys at the lunch table again. "Andy, don't ignore the plain-looking girls, you might be surprised." I thought back to Gracie, and Beth's other mice.

When I got home I grabbed Beth and just held her.

"Wow! What brought that on?" she asked. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Sometimes I forget that some guys are still looking for someone as special as you."

-------

Thanksgiving this year was at my parents' house. The six of us—Kevin was spending the day with Gail and her mother—were sitting around the table, allowing the turkey, stuffing, and all the other goodies to find a comfortable spot, when Beth's mother dropped a welcome bomb.

"Beth, I just got a call from Mom. They're coming back here for Christmas," Bev said.

Great news! Joan and Hank, Beth's grandparents, were a couple of my favorite people. As soon as I'd met them—Hank with his booming voice and Joan's bubbly personality—they won me over immediately. Their casual acceptance of my relationship with their granddaughter was another point in their favor. Our trip to Seattle, and the way they made me feel like part of the family, just sealed the deal as far as I was concerned.

-------

School was, well, school. Our classroom work was supplemented by more outside assignments—instead of sitting around listening to the instructors, they'd give us assignments and tell us to report the results in a couple of days for critique by the class. At first I thought the whole thing was a little non-productive, but then I realized it was forcing me to do some types of photography I wouldn't normally do. The critique sessions opened my eyes as to the number of ways to approach a subject, and how many ways there were to look at other people's work. For instance one of the assignments for Advanced Comp had Ms. Jones asking us to photograph one of the many fountains around town and then explain why we chose the composition we did and then threw the discussion open looking for ways that might have improved it. As it turned out, some of the guys came up with some images and angles I would never have thought of on my own.

Fall gave way to winter with all the fun and games of shoveling and icy, rutted roads. Not to mention Cindy's 'growing' situation.

"I just hope this guy doesn't decide to show up in the middle of a class," she grumbled as she tried to lever herself out of the Jeep after school. Beth and I grinned at each other as Greg helped his ever-growing wife out of Beth's vehicle.

Eventually the quarter was over and we had two weeks to enjoy the snow.

-------

"Hey, there he is!" Hank's voice boomed through the crowd. We were back at the airport and I was reminded of my first meeting with Beth's grandparents. A lot had changed since then, all for the better.

"How are you, Tommy?"

"Pretty good, how about you?"

"Can't complain since we just got here from the Caribbean. Damn, that's a nice place down there. I thought Chuck was nuts when he told us about buying it, but now..."

"Hi, Tommy," Jean said after hugging her granddaughter. Both of Beth's grandparents looked tanned and relaxed, even after a flight with two connections.

"So," Beth said, "are you guys hungry or did the airline mess up and feed you some real food?"

"I could kill for a good pizza," Hank said.

"The Palace it is!" I responded with a grin.

When we walked in Janine greeted us at the door. "Hi, you guys!" Then she saw Hank and Joan behind us. "Are you Hank? Grandma Jeanie warned me about you!" she said with a grin. For the first time since I met him, Hank was speechless. Not Joan. She wrapped an arm around Janine's shoulder. "I can see you take after your grandmother!" Hank had a stunned look that went well with his silence.

When we got back to the booth he finally snapped out of it. "Who was that? And where's Jeanie?"

We explained about Jeanie retiring and how her son now ran the place. With Janine's help, of course.

"That's Jeanie's granddaughter?" Hank said.

"Yup. Looks like she's got you pegged so you'd better behave," Beth chortled.

I even got an early Christmas present that night—no onions on the pizza!

Christmas Eve our families celebrated individually. Christmas Day we were all at the Jones's house to open presents and stuff our faces.

Joan and Hank visited our apartment one evening just before they were scheduled to head back to Seattle. Beth and I had a great time listening to them talk about what it had been like when Beth's folks had first bought the duplex. We took them for a quick tour to see if anything had changed over the years.

"I see you got new windows," Hank—ever the engineer—said.

"Yeah, they sure makes things warmer," I replied.

"I'll be that's not all that keeps you warm," he shot back.

"Hank! Quit embarrassing Tommy!" Joan commanded.

"Tommy, that's a nice drawing of our old barn converted to a house. Wishing ours was still on the farm?" she said, pointing to a sketch I had pinned above my drafting table.

Now I WAS embarrassed.

"Um ... that was just a doodle I did. Just wondering what a barn would look like as a house," I stammered.

"Sure," Hank said with a chuckle.

"Um, you guys hungry? We've found some nice places around here," I said, trying to change the subject.

"Sounds good," Hank said. "Gonna take us out for pizza?" My future grandfather-in-law has a great line in smirks.

"No, I was thinking Japanese. Sound interesting?"

"Mmmm ... I haven't had good Japanese for a while," Joan responded.

"Okay, let's grab our coats."

We piled in my Jeep. As we drove through the campus, Joan was looking around. "It's kind of strange to see what's happened to some of the places we used to visit," she said. "Some of the ones we thought would always be here are gone. Like the drugstore that used to be on that corner. When did that close?"

"Joan, that's been gone for several years. I remember a big article in the paper when it closed. I mean, it had been there since the Thirties, or even earlier, I think."

"Yeah," she answered. "I remember hearing Bob Dylan had a room above the store. Of course, that was before my time."

We parked the car in one of the nearby lots and walked back to the restaurant.

"I think you'll like this place," I said. "They even use real crab in their California roll. I like their rainbow roll that has a little of everything in it, or try their sashimi."

Hank just grinned. "I remember having sashimi in Tokyo. They made it with bluefin tuna. Luckily, the tab was picked up by the company I was consulting for. I mean, bluefin costs the Earth over there. I'm not even sure if it's even available over here."

We got back to the house and the "I remembers" started again.

"You should meet our neighbor, George. He's lived in the same house across the alley his whole life."

Beth looked at me. "Great idea, Tommy! It's still early, why don't you call him and invite him over?"

I called George, explained that Beth's grandparents were visiting, and invited him over. He showed up a couple of minutes later, knocked the snow off his shoes and dove into the conversation. Finally, about two in the morning, everybody was ready to crash. George walked back across the alley and Hank and Joan went back to Chuck and Bev's for the night.

-------

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. We drove Joan and Hank to the airport on New Year's Day and Hank apologized again for not being able to stay longer.

"Beth, I wish we could stick around but I volunteered to spend some time at one of the Antarctic research stations. I'm not sure why they want a broken-down old engineer, but it sounds like it might be interesting. At least being up here first should help acclimate me to the weather."

"Just don't get eaten by a polar bear," I kidded him.

"Tommy, there aren't any polar bears in the Antarctic," Beth said.

"I know there's not supposed to be any down there, but with Hank, you never know," I said with a grin.

After one last round of hugs they disappeared into the hands of the TSA and we headed home. It was amazing how quiet the Jeep sounded without Beth's grandparents along for the ride.

We were snuggled down for a nice winter's nap when Beth looked at me. "Tommy, why do you think Grandpa Hank keeps volunteering for all those crazy trips? I mean, Antarctica? What's with that?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's his way of proving to himself that he's still young enough to do it?"

"Maybe. I just hope he doesn't bite off more than he can handle," she said as she rolled over and snuggled her back to me. I reached over, put my hand in its usual spot and drifted off.

-------

One of my nicest Christmas gifts came from an unexpected source. The doorbell rang one afternoon and I found Mr. Grossfeldt standing on the front steps.

"Hello, sir. Would you like to come in?"

"Thank you, Thomas, but I stopped only long enough to give you a copy of my book. After all the work you did producing the images, I felt it only fair that you receive one of the first copies."

"Thank you!" I looked at the book and saw one of my pictures on the cover. As I thumbed through I saw that he'd used almost fifty of the shots I'd done that afternoon in his 'solarium, ' and on the back cover was the one I'd taken of him at his desk. I had to grin when I saw my name in the credit line under the picture. And this time I won't get in trouble with Beth! I thought to myself, remembering her reaction to her picture in the Institute's magazine.



-------

Chapter 16


Winter Break was over and it was back to the grind. Monday morning I walked into Advanced Composition II and saw Ms. Jones wearing a nasty smile waiting for us. After everyone was seated, she looked at us.

"Well, I hope everyone had a nice vacation ... because it's over now."

Ulp. Did we have another Grossfeldt on our hands?

"Mr. Randahl, can two people look at a portrait and see the same thing?"

"Umm ... well ... As far as the image goes, sure, but what they'll think they see, probably not."

"Why?" Was Ms. Jones really Grossfeldt in drag? It almost sounded like it, and I shuddered at the idea.

"Well ... I'd think the relation you have with the subject would color what you think you see in the photo. Wouldn't it?"

"Would it? What do the rest of you think?" The ensuing discussion took care of the rest of the hour. Until...

"For your first assignment, I want you to do a portrait of someone you know."

Well, that didn't sound too difficult.

"Actually, I want two portraits. One that shows the person as you see them, and another as they see themselves. Oh, and I don't want to see two copies of the same shot. I think we've pretty much agreed there're no two people who see the same thing in an image.

"You've got two weeks and I want you to be ready to discuss your images."

Hmm. I wondered if I dared to ask Beth to pose for me?

I had an hour before my next class and thought I'd just kill some time in the school's coffee shop. I walked in and saw several of the other kids from AdComp sitting at a table. I grabbed a cup of coffee and a muffin and joined them. A discussion over our latest assignment was already underway.

"So how are we supposed to do this?" Jim Samuels asked.

"You've got me," Anse David said, shaking his head. "I mean, first we each have to find someone who's going to be willing to pose. And how do you explain what you're trying to do?"

We spent most of the hour trying to figure out how to attack our latest assignment.

That evening I was sitting at the drafting table, shuffling through some pictures, while trying to figure out a way to get Beth to pose for me.

"Tommy, let's go out for dinner."

"Um, okay. Where do you want to go?"

"We haven't been out for pizza for a while. Oh, and it's my treat," she said as she tossed me my coat.

She drove us to the Palace where Janine greeted us like long-lost family and took us back to the snuggle booth.

"Okay, Tommy, what's going on? You've been acting like you're trying to figure out how to ask me something," Beth said after Janine brought our Cokes and took our order. I knew she was serious—the pizza would be onion-free.

How does she do that?

"Um ... well, you see, I've got an assignment and ... Well, I need someone to pose for me."

"And you've spent the whole afternoon trying to figure out how to ask me, right?"

I just nodded.

"And you thought I'd get mad, right?"

Another nod.

"Because of the picture in the Institute's magazine, right?"

"Beth, I'm sorry. I just don't know who else to ask."

That's when I realized she was wearing an ear-to-ear grin. "Tommy, I'm not mad about that. It was just such a shock when I first saw it.

"So what's so special about this assignment?"

Janine came around the corner about then and the Palace pizza took precedence over anything else.

Between bites I explained what I needed.

"So you need two pictures, one as you see me and the other how I see myself? That shouldn't be too hard."

Breathing is easy! Once you remember how...

-------

Thursday I was back in my self defense class and the first thing I noticed was Amanda talking to Andy. It was obvious that both her words and body language had the young teen ready to promise her anything.

When Kurt got us in line for warm-ups she kept glancing back at Andy with a come hither look that seemed obvious to me, but had Andy dreaming of the possibilities. She shot me an occasional quick look to see how I was reacting to her antics.

"Tommy, I think Amanda wants me to ask her out!" Andy said as we changed back into street clothes. He was almost dancing around he was so excited.

Oh, shit. It was pretty obvious that she was trying to make me jealous by pretending to be interested in Andy. Now, how to convince him of that? He wasn't my responsibility, but I'd hate to see Amanda kill his spirits by brushing him off, and Iwas sure if I showed even the slightest interest, or even a hint of jealousy, that's exactly what would happen.

-------

It was two o'clock Sunday night—or I guess it was really Monday morning?—and I was still sitting in front of my computer trying to finish my assignment for AdComp. I had talked Beth into sitting for a portrait and had almost fifty pictures from serious to funny. Along with those, I'd followed her around snapping candid shots of everyday things—cleaning, studying, cooking. I even got one of her in the shower—although I'd promised not to use that one!

Beth had made her choice with disgusting ease; one run through the multitude of choices and she knew which one she wanted. Now I had to decide which of all the pictures was the image that was HER to me.

"Tommy, are you going to work all night?" Beth asked sleepily. I'd been concentrating so much I hadn't even heard her pad up behind me. She wrapped her arms around me from behind, cradling my head between her breasts ... her bare breasts.

"If I have to," I replied. The picture I wanted to use—the one image that WAS Beth to me—I couldn't. It was the first picture of her I ever took—that first photograph of her in that black bikini that helped convince her of her true beauty. That was the perfect example of what I saw when I looked at her—the shy, quiet mouse who'd magically turned into Beauty. As proud as I was of what that picture represented, I knew my lady would never agree. So, despite what Ms. Jones had decreed, I was faced with making a lesser choice.

I turned back to my monitor with a sigh as Beth made her way back to bed. That nice, warm refuge that was denied me as I went back to trying to pick the one shot I wanted.

Some time later Ghost came to see what was going on. He jumped up, tromped across the keyboard, and settled down to watch me. Having an audience didn't make the process any easier, although I do remember asking him which picture he thought I should use. Not that I got an answer. Stubborn animal!

Before I left for class Monday morning I finally had something. It wasn't exactly what she had asked for, but it was all I could come up with. I emailed the two images to Ms. Jones, as she had requested. Considering how sharp her tongue could be I wondered if I'd be alive by the end of the session. Although the way I felt after a night with no sleep, did it really matter?

Ms. Jones came in and immediately zeroed in on me. "Mr. Randahl, could you explain the pictures you sent me for this assignment?"

"Um, yes." She displayed the picture Beth had chosen. It showed her sitting at her desk, surrounded by books and heaps of paper. It was the last shot I'd taken before she kicked me out of the room.

"Well, this is the picture my girlfriend chose as how she sees herself. I should explain that when she's concentrating on something, that IS her life.

"She's studying mechanical engineering at the "U" and one of her courses is giving her fits. Fluidgoddammics, as she calls it, is pretty much her whole life right now."

"Interesting," Ms. Jones said, as she changed to the collage I'd finished no more than an hour before I left for class. "Now can you explain this one? Remember I asked for a single image, not a collage."

"Yes, ma'am, but I just couldn't come up with only one picture that represented how I see her. Beth has so many different facets that I couldn't come up with only one image that was her. I'm sorry, but that collage was as close as I could get."

"Hmm ... interesting," was her only response to my explanation. I wondered what that meant.

"Now, Mr. David, let's look at yours," she said as she brought up the first of Anse's pictures.

When the hour was up all I wanted to do was crash until my next class. I had an hour to kill and had every intention of spending it in dreamland. As I stumbled toward the door, Ms. Jones stopped me.

"Thomas, that was an interesting solution for this assignment. And not at all what I expected."

"I'm sorry if you can't accept it, but like I said, I couldn't find one image that would represent her."

"Oh, I didn't say I wouldn't accept it, even though it didn't technically meet the parameters I set.

"I've talked to some of the other staff members who have had you in their classes, and apparently you don't have a problem stretching the rules. Do you?"

"Um, no, ma'am, I guess I don't."

"Good. Stretching boundaries is what makes a good artist. I'll bet in grade school you liked to color outside the lines, didn't you?"

All I could do was give her a sheepish grin.

I did manage to find a quiet corner, set my phone to wake me in enough time to make it to my next class, and crashed. I made it through the rest of the day, just don't ask me how.

-------

A couple of days later Kev called. That didn't happen often and I wondered what was up. It didn't take long to find out.

"Tommy, did you know our Spring Break is at the same time as yours?"

"Oh? I guess I hadn't known that." I suddenly knew where this conversation was headed.

"Are you going down to the island?"

"Yeah, we are," I replied, not adding that Gail had already asked Beth a week ago about accompanying us. I know I'm a nasty person and will no doubt come to a bad end, but it says in The Older Brother Handbook, Chapter Two, Paragraph Three—or was it Four?—that it's required to give younger siblings a ration whenever possible.

"Well, I was wondering if maybe ... well, could we come too?"

"Welll ... I don't know. You'll have to talk to Beth about that. I mean, the house down there does belong to Beth's folks, not ours."

"Yeahbut ... can't you ask her?"

"Kev, if you and Gail really want to go with us, you're going to have to ask her yourself."

"Damn, I was afraid you were going to say that," he mumbled. I got the idea he felt a bit daunted by my lady. Something I'd felt myself on more than one occasion.

-------

Thursday I walked into my self defense class trying to figure out what to do if Amanda acted the same way as last week. When she saw me come through the door she walked over to Andy and start flirting—a sure indication of what she was trying to do.

"Hi, Andy. Amanda."

She immediately turned away from Andy, slid her arm into mine and pushed her boobs into my side. "Tommy! You're looking pretty good. So what are you doing after class?"

"Oh, I don't know. I haven't really thought about it."

"Mmm ... Would you like to grab something to eat?" she said, giving me an extra little rub in case I missed the innuendo. I glanced at Andy and had a hard time not cringing at the expressions I saw flashing across his face. Confusion, jealousy, disappointment, anger, and hurt all vied for dominance. Suddenly I felt bad for what he was going through, having been there myself when I was his age.

"I don't think I can do that, Amanda. I've got a couple of stops to make and I'm meeting Beth after she gets out of class. Maybe Andy would like to go with you?"

I knew I was being a little obvious, but I'd had enough of her trying to get to me.

"Oh, I don't think so," she said with a sneer as she turned and trounced off.

"Andy, I'm sorry about that," I told the younger boy.

"Oh, sure! Now you're going to tell me you did it for my own good?"

"Andy, remember our conversation last week?"

"Yeah, so?"

"I didn't come on to Amanda today. All I did was say hello to both of you. Did you notice that she only started talking to you when I walked in? What does that tell you?"

The young teen didn't say anything for what seemed like a long time. I could see his expression change as he realized what she had been up to. "So she was just using me to get to you?"

All I could do was nod.

"Damn, why do girls have to be so hard to figure out? It must be nice to be older like you and know all this stuff."

If only he knew how little I understood the creatures we coexist with.

-------

It was getting close to the end of March. The quarter was almost over and the Caribbean beckoned. The weather had been surprisingly good the last couple of weeks, which was a nice change from what we'd had to put up with earlier this winter. I wondered how long it would be before the other shoe dropped.

I didn't have long to wait.

I walked out of AdComp and turned my phone back on. Ms. Jones had caught one of the kids texting during class and her reaction convinced me I NEVER wanted to go through what he did. She never raised her voice, but her tongue could flay the skin off a guy at fifty yards. I had a message from Beth saying that they were on their way home. Apparently classes at the "U" had been cancelled for the rest of the day due to the weather. Since AdComp was held in one of the basement classrooms—commonly known as "the dungeon"—I hadn't even known the weather had changed until I got to the top of the stairs. That's when I saw it was snowing heavily. It was obvious why the "U" had decided to pull the plug.

I had an hour before my Photography class and had considered stopping by the photo shop to say hello to Joe, but one look at the weather and I decided it wasn't a day for joyriding. I grabbed a cup of coffee and watched the white stuff fall until it was time for class. Mr. Nordstrom walked into the room with the same message Beth had gotten—no more classes today. I trudged out to the Jeep, wishing I had my Sorels. Sneaks just weren't made to wade through better than six inches of snow.

When I reached the Jeep I started the engine and flipped the heater on 'high, ' then got out to clean off the windows. When all the glass was clear of snow I climbed in and just sat there for a few minutes to give my toes a chance to thaw out. While I was waiting I glanced at the gas gauge. I had half a tank which SHOULD be enough to get me home. I remember my Dad pounding into my head to never let the tank get too low, especially in the winter. He had no sympathy for those stuck in traffic due to a lack of planning.

Late season blizzards could be some of the worst, and this one looked good enough to make it into the record books. I finally pulled into our driveway and much to my relief saw Beth's Jeep sitting there, which meant the three of them had made it home. I'd been through one snow emergency with my lady and didn't want to face another one.

I walked into the house and into the middle of a full fledged panic.

"Tommy, thank God you're home!"

"Greg, what's going on?"

"Cindy's having her baby! Right now!"

Now? Then what were they doing here?

"We were just turning the corner when her water broke," Greg continued. "Beth said we'd never make it to the hospital in time!"

"Why aren't you upstairs with her?"

"Because she couldn't make it up the stairs. Beth has her in your room."

"Have you called for an ambulance or something?"

"Yeah, but with all the snow they didn't know when they could get here. And the baby won't wait!"

I walked down the hall and looked in our room only to see Cindy, on our bed, naked from the waist down, knees up, legs spread, and panting like she was running a marathon.

Beth was sitting on the bed, holding her hand and talking softly.

I decided I shouldn't be in there and was backing out of the room when Cindy spotted me.

"Tommy, get your camera. I want pictures! Ooohh, that hurts!" she said at a contraction hit.

Pictures? She wants pictures? I'd heard pregnant women can ask for some strange things, but pictures at a time like this?

"Tommy, don't argue, you won't win," Greg said.

I grabbed the camera and walked back to the bedroom. I stood near the head of the bed, opposite Beth, and got a shot of her talking to Cindy, and a second one of Cindy by herself, her face glistening with sweat.

"Tommy, I want pictures of the baby!"

"Okay, I'm not going anywhere."

"No! I want pictures of the baby being born!"

Now I've gotten some strange requests, but this?

Beth gave me one of her little grins when she saw my discomfort. "Tommy, just be ready. The doctor says it won't be long now." That's when I noticed she was wearing her Bluetooth headset, her phone sitting on the nightstand next to her.

Greg came back in the room. "I unlocked the front door and turned the outside light on for the ambulance.

"How you doing, Cindy?"

"Right now, I could kill you! You did this to me, you son of a bitch!

"Oh, I think it's coming!" she said with a groan.

I moved to the foot of the bed and took the first of what was going to be the strangest set of pictures I'd ever done. I could actually see the baby's head!

Beth had moved down between Cindy's thighs and was talking to the doctor and reassuring Cindy as the birth began. I lost track of what was going on as I continued to snap pictures, all the time trying to stay out of the way.

Suddenly, it was over. Beth held up a little bundle that looked all wet and wrinkled and gently gave it to Cindy.

I glanced behind me and saw Greg standing there with an amazed look.

I heard a knock on the front door, then an EMT walked into the room. "Hi, Ron, it's good to see you again. I wish it could have been half an hour earlier."

"Hi, Tommy! Looks like you guys have everything pretty much taken care of." He looked at Cindy. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, okay, I guess."

Ron's partner came in with a stretcher and they loaded up Cindy and her new baby. He turned to me. "You going to ride with us?"

"No, why?"

"Well, it's normal for the father to come along."

"Whoa! I'm not the father, he is!" I said as I pointed to Greg. Ron knew I was totally hooked on Beth and the idea that I'd father someone else's child had him almost on the floor laughing.

"Oops! My mistake. Well, are you riding along?"

"Um, yeah, I guess so," he said, casting a wary eye in Cindy's direction. "If I'm welcome."

"Greg, get your butt over here and look at our son. By the way, you're forgiven." I could almost hear the sigh of relief from my friend.

We told the new parents we'd be in to see them tomorrow.

Suddenly it was very quiet. I looked at Beth. "Wow, how about that?" I said.

"Yeah. When Cindy said her water broke I almost panicked. Then when I realized we'd never make it to the hospital I really got nervous. Tommy, I'm so glad the 911 operator connected me to a doctor. I don't think I could have done it by myself." I pulled her to me and could feel her shaking. Then I realized the shaking wasn't from nerves, she was laughing.

"Tommy, do you realize if they hadn't called off school Cindy would have been in class?" That got me chuckling, too.

"I know Cindy has a bit of an exhibitionist streak, but that would have been a little too much!"

Beth turned around and looked at what was left of our bed. "I think maybe it's time to change the bedding."

"Oh, really," I replied as I looked at the aftermath of our friend's afternoon.

We got the bed remade, grabbed a quick bite to eat, and decided to call it a day.

Beth snuggled back against me and my hand found its usual home. As I lay there I thought back to the evening's events and realized seeing Cindy naked on our bed hadn't given me the reaction I would have expected. It must have been the situation, but it was just weird. Normally, seeing her nude was enough to tighten my jeans, but not this time.

After class the next day we drove to the hospital to see Cindy. We walked into the room and saw her feeding her new son. Again, not the reaction I would normally have expected seeing our busty friend with a boob hanging out.

"He certainly looks better than last time I saw him," I kidded the new mom. That earned me an elbow from my lady. Why? I didn't know. I mean last time I'd seen him he was all wrinkly and looked a bit slimy.

"So, have you decided on a name?" Beth, ever the practical one, asked.

"John Gregory," she replied. It took me a second to remember her dad's name was John. He was someone I'd always thought of as "Mister Kowalski."

"So I take it you've forgiven Greg?" I kidded her.

"Oh, that," she replied with a little blush. "That was just the pain talking."

Just about then Greg walked in, looking every bit the proud father.

"Hi, guys! So how do you like our new addition?"

We spent the next hour talking and laughing over our experience. When Beth mentioned the timing of the storm Cindy realized where she would have been if classes hadn't been cancelled.

"Oh, God, can you imagine? Popping out this little guy in the middle of class? I'd never be able to show my face there again!"

Just as we were getting ready to leave Cindy's folks came in. That gave us a chance to kid them about being grandparents. Her dad looked ready to burst from pride and her mom was grinning from ear to ear.

-------

A few days passed before I realized that I still hadn't visited the photo shop lately. The last time I'd thought about stopping by to see Joe I'd been snowed out.

"Hey, Tommy, how're things?" Joe asked as I walked in.

"Pretty good. Almost time for Spring break."

"Planning to head somewhere warm?"

I explained about the place in the Islands.

"Now that's the way to get out of the snow! Oh, that reminds me, look what I just got." He reached under the counter and pulled out a white cube that I recognized as a GoPro camera.

"We just started carrying these. Pretty nice, huh?"

"Yeah!" I'd read some articles in the photo mags on what was turning into the latest big thing in sports photography. YouTube was littered with videos that had been shot with them. Sky diving, hot air ballooning, surfing—you name it, you could get great results, still and video. They even used them on some TV shows.

"The kit comes with everything you need, including several ways to mount it and a waterproof housing good for almost two hundred feet. Just add an SD memory card and you're ready to go.

"So, would you like to borrow it for your trip?"

"Really? Sure. Um, are you going to offer them for rent? And how much?"

"How about a trade. Bring me some nice pictures and videos and we'll call it even."

How could I turn down a deal like that? I'd never done any video work and this was a perfect way to see if I had any talent in that direction.

-------

Eventually school was over for the quarter and the grades were posted—I got an A from Ms. Jones! So much for slavishly following the rules.

Our packing was done and arrangements made for Greg and Cindy to watch Ghost for us. The original idea was to leave him with them so the night before we left we brought him upstairs. He immediately started exploring his new surroundings and things were going along fine until he saw little John. He dead-stopped, the hair on his back went up, and we could hear his low growl. Obviously he wasn't a fan of babies. We settled on leaving him in our place. Greg would check on him daily to make sure he had plenty of food and water, and grudgingly agreed to keep his litter box clean.

Kevin and Gail came over that night, supposedly so we could get an early start the next day. That night Beth and I got a chuckle listening to the two of them "sleeping" on the living-room floor. Of course we were much quieter.

The next morning we were on an airplane headed for paradise!



-------

Chapter 17


We got off the plane in Nassau, collected our baggage, such as it was, and found a cab to take us to the marina. Chuck and my dad had figured out it was easier, safer, and quicker to rent a slip for Matt's Helm there than it would be to hire a boat to take us to the island whenever we went down there. We couldn't expect Bob and Sue to give us a lift every time we wanted to spend some time in the sun!

I had emailed Bob to let them know we'd be coming down. He replied they would be in town earlier in the week to do their regular shopping, and offered to pick up supplies for us. I talked over what we'd need with Beth, and emailed Bob back with our list and told him we'd reimburse him when we got there.

After we got the boat ready to sail, including stowing the few things we'd brought with us, we cast off and I maneuvered us out of the harbor. As soon as we were in open water I shut down the engines and raised the sails. Meanwhile, the girls changed into a couple of wickedly brief bikinis and stretched out on the foredeck.

"Well little brother, I think it's time for some navigation lessons," I said.

"Okay, what do you want to know?"

So he was going to be like that, huh? I pulled out a chart that had the island marked on it and handed it to him. "Plot me a course and show me how you'll get there."

"You mean I don't get to use the GPS and do it the easy way?"

"Let's pretend the GPS doesn't work. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want to be stuck out on the water with no idea where I was or where I was going."

Kev grabbed a pair of dividers out of the drawer and started scribbling on a scratchpad. Next he pulled out the sextant, stepped out on deck and proceeded to take a sun shot. Then he did something I'd read about but never done. He held the sextant horizontally and aimed it at two of the nearby islands.

"What are you up to, Kev?"

He grinned at me, grabbed the dividers and a compass and pointed to a spot on the chart.

"Well, that's where we are, more or less." He scribbled on his scratchpad a little more and drew a course on the chart. "This course should get us to the island," he said proudly.

I looked over his shoulder to double-check what he'd done—by using the sextant to measure the angle between the two islands he got our current position and calculated his course from that. As we continued our cruise it was pretty obvious somebody had been studying.

"Were you that sure you'd be coming down here with us that you studied navigation just to show me you could do it?"

"Well ... no. One day after class I asked my trig teacher if he knew what a sextant was and he asked if I wanted to do a report on navigation for extra credit. When I mentioned we'd be sailing he suggested a paper showing how to use trig to determine position and calculate a course.

"I even got an "A" for my work," he said with just a little pride in his voice.

Hmm. So much for thinking my brother was just a kid. Since he seemed to be able to handle the boat I left him to it and went below to find the GoPro camera and the mounts that came with it. Back on deck, I was going to try to find some interesting angles to shoot some video.

"Tommy, get that thing out of here!"

Oops! I'd forgotten Beth and Gail had removed their tops as soon as we were alone on the water.

"Sorry about that! I was just looking for some good places to mount the camera."

"Well, you could have warned us," my lady grumbled as she and Gail slipped back into their tops.

I found a good spot forward to mount the small camera on the aluminum brace between the two hulls. Since the camera was waterproof I wasn't worried by the small amount of spray that might hit it and tried to get the camera as close to the water as I could.

This was going to be my first experience with shooting video and I was curious to see what would work best. I shot maybe thirty seconds at a time, fiddling with the settings for each shot. I pulled the camera and tried several other spots, just walking around looking for interesting angles. I even lay down and held the camera off one side of the hull, shooting as close to the water as I could get without falling overboard.

"Okay, girls, I'm done now," I said as I opened the hatch and climbed back into the cabin.

Kev was sitting at the wheel grinning from ear to ear.

"Damn, Tommy, I could get used to this!"

"So are we on course?"

"Of course," he replied with the obvious pun, pointing out our position on the chart. I turned on the GPS and damn if he wasn't right!

"Tommy, what were you doing with that camera? I mean besides trying to get some pictures of the girls."

"That's NOT what I was trying to do," I responded.

I explained that I was going to try to get some interesting video for Joe in return for the use of the camera. "So if you can think of some interesting camera angles, let me know."

-------

It wasn't too much longer before Kevin brought us up to the dock. We were home for the week.

After tying up, Kev and I woke our snoozing ladies—and reminded them to grab their tops. It was pretty obvious the islanders' easy attitude about dress had caught on early this trip.

We got the beach house opened, and decided to grab a meal before anything else. We found everything that Bob and Sue had picked up and while the girls tossed together a salad—literally—Kev and I got the grill going and started the hamburgers.

"Tommy, will we be seeing the Webbers this trip?"

"Oh, yeah. We'll have to, if only to pay them back for the food they bought for us. Why?"

"I was just wondering if Bob would be willing to let me dive again."

"I don't know. Beth had talked about having them over for dinner, so that might be a good time to ask."

When the burgers were ready the girls brought out the salad and more drinks for everybody. Gail and Beth had decided to leave their tops in the house and both Kevin and I had a problem focusing on the food, good as it was. We just lazed around after we ate and Beth had to nudge me awake to catch the sunset.

We were in bed that night when the silence was broken by lively noises. Beth giggled. "What kind of bird has a call like that?" she asked.

"Hmm, sounds like a horny brother bird to me," I said as I reached for my lady.

Soon there was another call echoing through the house.

The next morning we got an early start. I unlocked the shed and we pulled the jet skis out of storage. Kev and Gail won the coin toss for first chance to ride. As they cut through the water I remembered the GoPro camera and soon I stood in waist-deep water as the pair tried to play chicken with me—getting as close as possible before cutting away, leaving me drenched but grinning as I shot both video and still pictures of their antics. That gave me an idea.

When Beth and I finally got a chance to play I strapped the camera to the handlebars of the jet ski before I took off. The video I shot yesterday turned out pretty good and I hoped I could match it today. I didn't want to disappoint Joe. After all, it was his camera!

We'd decided to take a break and were just finishing up when a boat pulled up to the dock. A Royal Bahamas Police Force boat. With several uniformed men on board.

What now?

"Excuse me, sir, may I see some identification?" What is it about a British accent that sounds so damned polite?

"Um, well I'll have to go up to the house to get it."

"Perhaps you could just tell us what you are doing here?"

"We're just down here for Spring Break from college."

"I see. And how many of you are staying here?"

By this time Beth, Kevin and Gail had walked up to join me.

"Excuse me, officer, may I ask why you are asking?" Leave it to my lady to get to the point.

"We are checking on some reports of break-ins on some of the islands. And who might you be?"

"My name is Bethany Jones. This property is owned by my parents."

"Jones you say? That is not in accord with the information we have."

I glanced at Beth and could see her starting to heat up. It looked as if the bureaucrats had messed up again. This time with the title transfer.

"Perhaps your records still show Matt Phillips as the owner?" I put in. I didn't think getting into a shouting match with the local cops was a good idea.

"Yes, that is the name we have. When did your parents buy the property?"

"Hi, you guys!" I turned and saw Sue and Bob. Sue was carrying a large platter.

"Um, hi. Could you give us a hand here?" Maybe the local fuzz would believe them.

"What's wrong officer?" Sue asked.

"Sergeant, ma'am. Sergeant Smith and this is Constable Hutchinson," he said, motioning to the cop standing behind him. "And you are?"

"I'm Susan Webber. This is my husband, Robert."

"Ah, I see you own the adjacent property. Will you vouch for these four?"

"Certainly. We know them quite well. Beth's parents bought this property from Matt Phillips last year. Why, is there a problem?"

"We've had reports of groups of juveniles causing damage to some properties. Apparently they come down here and lose all sense of proportion."

"I can assure you, Sergeant, you'll have no problems with these kids," Sue responded.

Half an hour later, and only after we'd all produced our passports, the local constabulary wished us a good day and—with a reminder to have Beth's folks get all the paperwork straightened out—were on their way.

"We just can't leave you alone for a moment, can we?" Bob said, trying but failing to keep a straight face.

"I guess not," Beth replied with a matching grin. "And who are Susan and Robert anyway?"

"Just treating officious officials as they expect to be treated. With just enough obsequious deference to stroke their egos."

Hmm, going to have to remember that I thought.

"Anyway, we thought you guys might like lunch," she continued. "Nothing special. Just cold cut sandwiches.

"Oh, by the way, Beth, here's some beach reading for you," she said as she handed my lady a thumb drive.

"What is this?" Beth asked.

"It's my latest book. I thought you might enjoy it. That's a printer-ready copy, but it won't hit the streets for another couple of weeks."

"Wow. Thanks! Of course I'll have to fight Tommy for first reading rights," she said grinning in my direction. I tried to look offended at the thought that I'd be reduced to reading a romance, but, truth to tell, I found some of our friend's books fun reads.

"Oh, don't worry about it. It's just a PDF file so you can copy it to both your machines. I trust you to not pass it around."

"Of course not, although I might brag to some of my friends about getting a copy before it's released."

Sue chuckled. "Be sure to tell them how much you like it. Maybe it'll sell some more copies!"

"So, what do you have planned for the rest of the week?" Bob asked.

"Mainly just relaxing. And not shoveling snow!" I responded. I glanced at my brother.

"Well," Kev said, "I was wondering if we could go diving again?"

"Sure! Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?"

"No, tomorrow would be great!" Kev answered immediately. I glanced at Beth and Gail to see what they thought of the idea.

"Ladies, are you going to come along or are we going to have to batch it?"

Sue looked at the other two.

"Sounds great!" Gail responded.

"Yeah, it does sound good," Beth surprised me. I mean, it wasn't that long ago when she was afraid to go in water more than waist deep, or maybe she just wanted to go along for the ride.

"Could you teach me how to dive, like you did for Tommy, and Gail, and Kevin?" Beth asked as she looked at Bob. No, she didn't just look at him, she gave him her little-girl-lost look. I've never been able to figure out if she did that on purpose when she wanted something, or if it was just natural. Whichever, it worked as well on Bob as on every other man who'd fallen under its spell.

"You bet," Bob responded. "All right. We'll see you tomorrow morning. Is nine too early?"

Now normally getting up that early on vacation would cause some grumbling, but not this time!

The Webbers left shortly after we finished lunch. The four of us decided a nice island cruise would be a good way to spend the rest of the afternoon.

"So where should we go?" I asked.

"Aim for the second star to the right, and then straight on till morning," Gail replied as she snuggled back against Kevin.

"Sounds like a great idea, but a little long for an afternoon cruise, don't you think?"

"An afternoon cruise?" Beth said with fake dread in her voice. "Which of you is Gilligan?"

After the appropriate moan, we decided to just visit one of the nearby islands and walk around for a while.

We were on our way back when Gail jumped up and pointed behind us. "Oh, look at that sunset! It's beautiful!"

I glanced back and had to agree. Other than on a totally overcast day, the sunsets in the Caribbean were pretty spectacular, but this one was something special. I handed the helm to my brother, who feigned total uninterest in watching something that happened every night, and reached for my camera. That was when I realized I'd only brought the GoPro, not the Nikon.

"Oh, well," I thought. "Better than nothing." And started shooting some video as the sky lit up. There were just enough clouds to make for some great footage. I hoped.

"Wow," Gail said after the sun was gone. "Can I get a copy of that for my computer?"

"Sure. Assuming it turns out," I replied. The little camera didn't allow an awful lot of control, so I didn't want to make any promises until I'd had a chance to see the results for myself.

When we got back to the house we gathered around my laptop and I ran the sunset. Beautiful. The more I worked with the GoPro, the more impressed I was. I noticed my brother seemed just as interested as the rest of us. So much for his earlier "who cares" attitude.

After my shower I walked into our room and found Beth with her Kindle, devouring Sue's latest.

"Tommy, listen to this!

"Evangeline ran along the edge of the cliff trying to escape her captors. Suddenly, she stopped and turned to look at the old mansion. Something was trying to warn her. Of what, she wondered. She continued along the cliff when, with a deep-throated rumble, the path under her crumbled and disappeared. As she fell, she felt a strong hand grasp her flailing arm. Looking up, she saw Phillipe, muscles bulging as he pulled her up and away from her doom. Where had he come from? How had he escaped?

She looked back over the edge and saw the last of the path as it hit the water, amid the detritus of past falls, and realized her broken body would be there if not for the strong arms of her savior.

"Tommy, that's what happened to us! Sue used our experience in her book!"

"It sounds like it, doesn't it? Except I don't remember saving you."

"Yeah, but you would have ... wouldn't you?"

"I'd certainly try, even if I don't have Phillipe's bulging muscles."

"Oh, that's all right. I don't have the extra ballast Evangeline does," Beth said with a mock sigh as she brought up the front cover of the book showing its over-endowed heroine.

"Does it bother you that she used our experience?"

"No! I mean, a famous author included something that happened to us in one of her books! I'm thrilled! Even if she applied a little literary license."

"You mean I'm not Phillipe?" I said with a mock sniffle.

"You are to me," she responded as she put her Kindle on the night stand and turned off the light. Unfortunately, I had forgotten her reaction to romance novels.

And who was going to save me? I wondered as she attacked.

We were all awake early the next morning and got to the Webbers just in time to help load everything on the Lady Suzanne. Gail and Beth helped Sue with provisions for the day as Kev and I schlepped tanks and other gear for Bob. By nine-thirty we were on our way.

"I thought we'd try a different spot today," Bob said. "There's a reef not too far away that's great for watching fish.

"Tommy, did you bring your camera today?"

Damn, caught again! I remembered his order to leave it at the house last time we went out.

"Um, yeah, but just the GoPro, not the Nikon."

"Perfect. I expect to see some great stuff when we get back," he said with a chuckle as I relaxed, happy not to be in the doghouse.

When we got to the dive site, Bob carefully set the anchors and shut down the engines.

"Okay," he said, "even though Beth is the rookie here, I want all of you to pay attention."

"Beth, how much air is in one of those tanks?"

"Either eighty or one hundred cubic feet, depending on the tank," came her quick reply.

"And what pressure?"

"Um ... ah ... I'm not sure."

"Didn't you read the booklet I gave you last night?"

"Well, I thumbed through it, but got sidetracked."

Bob looked at me. "Did you have anything to do with that, Tommy?"

"Nope, not this time," I responded with a grin. It was so unusual to see Beth caught short, it was all I could do not to laugh out loud.

"And what was so important that it took you away from your assignment?" he asked my lady.

"It was her fault!" Beth said, pointing to Sue. "If she hadn't given me her new book..."

Bob looked over at his wife with a hurt expression. "So I guess I know how I rate," he said.

"I'm sorry," Sue said. "But I knew how much Beth likes my books and I guess I just wanted her to see the new one..." she ran down with a sheepish grin.

"Well, I guess I'll have to accept that," Bob sighed.

He quizzed us for almost an hour, concentrating mainly on Beth, but making sure the three of us who had been down before remembered what we'd learned.

Eventually, we satisfied him and then it was time to get wet!

As I swam along the reef—camera in hand this time—I was again amazed at all the different colors. I found using the GoPro underwater and focusing through a mask took some getting used to.

I'd shot a couple of video clips when Beth swam up next to me, her impossibly long legs just disappearing under the hem of a t-shirt that looked like it would have been right at home at a Jimmy Buffet concert.

It's tough to judge someone's expression when she's got a face full of mouthpiece, but it was pretty obvious she was having a ball. Bob was right behind her, making sure she had no problems on her first dive. Kevin and Gail were not too far behind Bob.

It seemed like only a couple of minutes before Bob signaled us to head for the surface, holding us once for a decompression stop even though none of us had been very deep.

"So, how did you like it?" Sue asked once we were back aboard.

"Oh! It was great!" Beth enthused. "I couldn't believe all the colors. And the fish! Wow!"

"It's too bad the pond at the farm isn't bigger," she whispered to me.

"Yeah, it would be great to be able to go diving there." It wasn't until I noticed her faint blush that I realized my inadvertent double entendre.

We ate lunch onboard. Sue had packed enough food for twice the number of people, salad, sandwiches, and homemade ice cream.

After lunch we just lazed around for a while before diving again.

By the time we got back to the island it was almost dark. We thanked Sue and Bob and Beth gave Bob a big kiss. "Thank you so much," she said. "I can't remember having so much fun and excitement!"

"Oh, I'll bet you can come up with at least one time." Sue's deadpanned comment left my lady red-faced again and the rest of us chuckling.

We were sitting around the table the next morning when Kev spoke up. "Tommy, I was thinking of some spots to put the camera to get good video. Can we get the camera to the top of the sail? I'll bet that would get you some nice shots."

"Great idea! We ought to be able to come up with some way to fasten it to the halyard and pull it up to the top of the mast. It might flap around a little, but that's not necessarily bad. Let's try it!"

Half an hour later we were on the water. I'd managed to find a mounting adapter for the camera that fit the clip on the halyard and as soon as we were in open water, hauled the sail and camera to the top of the mast. There was a fairly stiff breeze and with the sail up, we didn't need the engines so I shut them down, and soon we were skimming over the water. The "42" was so stable that there was no possibility of turtling our ride.

When Kev lowered the sail he shouted to me, "Tommy, what direction did you point the camera?"

"Straight forward, why?"

"Because it's pointing straight down, now."

I found the camera mount I'd jury-rigged had slipped and the camera WAS aimed straight down. I wondered if I'd get anything useable from the afternoon's shoot.

Back at the house I transferred the video to my laptop and started skimming through it to see what we had. It looked like the mount had slipped about three-quarters of the way through the run, so it wasn't a total loss. The first part contained some nice footage as we moved across the water. The second part, after the mount slipped, left the camera pointed straight down ... right on our ladies sunning themselves on deck—great to look at, but definitely not for public consumption!

The next night we all felt the need to go out and party. Not that we had anything special to celebrate, just a good excuse to get out with other people.

Beth had told Gail and Kev about visiting The End of the World Saloon after our previous trip and they both expressed a certain enthusiasm for a visit. I saw Beth wince a bit at the memory of our adventure there, but Kev and Gail finally talked us into it.

"Just don't forget your underwear," I kidded Gail, which garnered me a strange look. Apparently Beth's description of our adventure in Bimini hadn't included leaving her autographed skivvies hanging from the ceiling. I never had admitted that I was the one who nailed them up there.

When we got to Bimini I made arrangements to moor overnight at the local yacht club, which was within walking distance of The End of the World.

"You really were here?" Kev asked as we approached the End.

"Yeah, it was Bob and Sue who suggested it to us." I had to admit our destination didn't look like a place that would ever find itself in the pages of Bon Appétit magazine.

I made myself a promise as we reached the door: One Goombay Smash was my limit tonight. Someone had to be the responsible adult for our little adventure and I didn't think anyone else was worried about it.

-------

I managed to get my charges back to the marina where Matt's Helm was waiting to play detox center. Beth had said she wasn't going to indulge but it looked like I was the only one who made it through the evening with anything approaching the ability to navigate.

I was on deck the next morning when I heard it.

"Ooohh..."

Sounded as if one of the revelers had returned to Earth ... It didn't sound like a gentle landing.

"Tommy, why did you let me do that?" Beth wailed as she stumbled up on deck, shading her eye against the Caribbean sun, even though she had her sun glasses on.

"Let you do what?" I tried to keep a straight face and I knew I was going to regret my quip, but sometimes you've just got to let the devil loose.

"What time is it?" she moaned.

"Oh, almost eleven."

"Oohhh ... too early," she moaned again as she stumbled back to her cave for some more recovery time.

It was maybe another hour before I heard anything else from the bowels of the recovery ward.

"Kev, what did you do with my bra and panties?"

"Huh? What, me? I didn't do anything, just stapled them to the ceiling like you asked me to." Uh=oh, Kev was going to regret that admission.

"I did ... you did ... what are you talking about?"

Sounded like Goombay Smash amnesia to me.

The conversation devolved into a lot of "Why did you let me..." and "It was your idea..." and "It seemed like a good idea at the time..."

When Gail finally crawled out of her cocoon and stumbled up on deck she gave me a dirty look. Whether it was because I, as the sober member of our little band, hadn't stopped her, or because my comment the day before hadn't constituted adequate warning, I didn't know.

Eventually everybody recovered sufficiently to start for home, or at least enough so that no one fell overboard handling the lines.

Gail tottered up to me as I was adjusting our course for the island.

"Tommy, what were those things we drank last night?"

"Goombay Smashes."

"How many did I have?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe two?"

"Only two? What's in them?"

"I was told the contents are 'Rum, more rum, even more rum, pineapple, coconut, and maybe some other stuff, ' to the best of my recollection."

"Oohhh..." she moaned as she stumbled forward to join my lady.

Once we got back to the island the other three decided naps sounded good and they disappeared into the house, leaving me to do the nautical housekeeping.

The rest of the week was pretty much the same—minus the drinking—sleeping late, lazing around on the beach or out on the boat, or spending some time exploring our little chunk of Paradise. We even went on a ghost hunt, although nobody felt it was a good idea to go into the old house on the north end of the island, and we never saw Cecily.

Eventually, as with all good things, we had to say goodbye to the Webbers and Paradise and return to our cold reality. The only saving grace was knowing we only had one more quarter of school before Summer.



-------

Chapter 18


My folks picked the four of us up at the airport, and gave us the usual grilling about our vacation. They dropped Beth and me off at the duplex with a promise of more conversation Sunday when we'd all be at Bev and Chuck's for dinner.

We walked into the house and found Ghost waiting at the door. He looked at us, put his nose and tail in the air and walked off, not to be seen for the rest of the night. So much for our welcome home. There's nothing like a cat that feels abandoned, I guess.

We called upstairs to tell Greg and Cindy we were back and—without even unpacking—crashed for the night.

"So how were things in the islands?" Chuck asked when we got to their house on Sunday.

"Great. At least until the cops showed up," Beth answered.

"Cops?" Bev asked.

"Yeah, the local cops stopped by to see if we were a bunch of Spring Breakers bent on wrecking the place. It seems the title for the house still showed it belonging to Matt. At least that's what the cops said. If Bob and Sue Webber hadn't shown up when they did and vouched for us I don't know what would have happened."

"We bought that property and filed all the paperwork a year ago! What's going on with those damned bureaucrats?" Chuck fumed. "No wonder the British Empire fell apart, it was crushed under all the misfiled paper. Looks like I'll have to make some phone calls Monday. I just hope this isn't going to require a trip down there or the Bahamian government may be short one paper-pusher when I'm done!" Chuck was usually such an easy-going guy, this almost scared me.

The rest of the meal consisted of great food and a lot of questions about what else we did on break. Chuck didn't mention the title snafu again, but it was obvious he wasn't happy with the thought of having to tackle a Caribbean bureaucracy.

When we got home I spent the rest of the day going through all the stills and video I'd shot with the GoPro. As I was checking out everything I realized I hadn't taken any pictures with the Nikon. I'd been so intrigued with the little GoPro that my regular workhorse was totally forgotten.

I planned to bring the camera back to Joe on Monday and wanted something to show him so I spent some time working with the video editing software I'd loaded on my computer. I wasn't trying for a polished presentation, just something to show him what a rookie could do with the little camera.

Monday it was back to school, for Beth, Greg, and me. Cindy was taking a quarter off to take care of little John. I found myself grinning, thinking of Robin Hood and his merry band.

Photography this quarter was all about view cameras and I was very happy I'd had a chance to use one when we did the catalog shoot. Studio Lighting Technique was another class I was looking forward to. I secretly hoped my experience, between the catalog work and the commercial stuff I'd already done, would give me a leg up and make it an easy class.

After school I stopped at the photo shop to return the GoPro and all the mounting hardware to Joe.

"Hey, Tommy, lookin' good! Obviously the Caribbean agreed with you."

"Yeah, Joe. Unfortunately the trip wasn't long enough. I did get some use out of the GoPro, though. Have you got a computer handy?" I asked as I pulled a thumb drive out of my pocket.

"Now remember I'm not a videographer. As a matter of fact this is the first time I've shot ANY video, so be gentle."

Joe just chuckled as he plugged the drive into his computer. Five minutes later he looked at me. "Are you sure you've never done this before? I don't know how you got some of those shots, but they're great! How did you get that high angle shot?"

I explained about raising the camera with the sail. What I didn't tell him about was the last part of that shot—the part when the camera was pointing straight down at our topless ladies.

"This stuff looks great. Um, can I make you an offer?"

"Well, sure. What do you have in mind?"

"How about if you put together five or ten minutes on a DVD? I've got an extra player in the back room, and I could set up a flat screen TV and run a continuous loop. It'd be great advertizing. I've had several people look at the GoPro but I don't think they believed such a small, simple looking camera could produce anything worthwhile. Too many memories of the lousy output from the old camcorders, I guess.

"Oh, and if you can do that, you can keep the camera," he added.

Five or ten minutes? I thought back to what I'd transferred from the SD card. "I think I can do that. Let me see what I can come up with."

"Great. Why don't you just keep the camera for now. I trust you."

And so I walked out with the same box of goodies I'd walked in with.

I got home just as Beth was pulling her Jeep into the garage.

"Just the guy I want to see!" she said as she climbed into my Jeep. "So where are you taking me for dinner?"

"Um, I don't know. Are we celebrating something, or are you just trying to cadge a free meal?"

'Yes," was her only reply as she gave me one of her inscrutable looks. I guess that made the choice of restaurants mine. I remembered the little place on the other side of town where I'd taken her that first Saturday night. We hadn't been back there since and it was about time.

When she realized where we were going Beth looked over at me. "Tommy, you remembered!"

"Of course. Remember that first whistle you got?"

"Oh, God, yes. Remember I thought it was for the CAR?" I just chuckled, thinking back to how shy and self-conscious she'd been—totally unready for any attention, let alone whistles from total strangers.

"So, what does this quarter at school look like?" I asked once we'd found a table and ordered.

"Much better than the last one! About the hardest class I've got is Thermodynamics."

"And that's better?" In my book any course with a five-syllable, single-word title had to be a bitch.

"Oh, yeah. It'll be a breeze compared to what I had to put up with in that damned Fluid Dynamics."

About then our food came and we dug in.

Tuesday afternoon was my self defense class. I was all ready to fend off Amanda but she wasn't there. Andy was and couldn't wait to give me his good news.

"Tommy, you wouldn't believe what happened over break! I actually took a girl on a date! She even let me kiss her!" He sounded as if he couldn't believe it had happened. I was going to rib him about his first kiss, but then I thought back to my first experience and just couldn't do it.

"That's great! Are you going to see her again?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, we're in some of the same classes."

"No, I mean are you going to take her out again?"

"Well, she invited me over for dinner on Saturday," he said with a note of trepidation in his voice. "And I have to meet her parents. What should I do?"

I thought back to the first time I'd met Beth's folks but decided telling him what led up to my first meeting probably wouldn't help. The panic I'd felt that Monday morning after our first weekend still gave me shivers. At least Andy was getting some warning.

"You might want to bring some flowers or candy for her mother. Might as well get on their good side right away."

"Shouldn't I bring them for her?" he asked.

"Oh, she'll like them, even if they're not for her directly."

"Well, if you say so..." He didn't sound very convinced.

"Look, you're going to be a guest at their house, right? And her mother is cooking, right?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess you're right. But why would Nancy—that's her name, Nancy—like that?"

"Because it shows you're thoughtful and civilized enough to be polite to her parents. Besides, if her parents think you're a nice kid they might cut you some slack if they catch you with your hand up her sweater some time."

"Tommy! I wouldn't do anything like that!"

I just looked at him and watched as he turned red.

"Just remember, Andy, whatever you do, don't brag to your friends. That'll turn off Nancy and all HER friends."

"Yeah, but ... Tommy, she said she couldn't wait to tell all her friends about kissing me."

"Andy, girls are different from guys. For one thing, they can't help telling their friends about something like that, but they don't want YOU to say anything to any of your friends. It doesn't have to make sense, that's just the way things work."

When I got home that night I told Beth about our discussion. She just grinned. "You guys sure have problems with us, don't you?"

"Yeah, but it's worth it," I said as I pulled her close and nibbled on her ear.

I was working on the video for Joe when the phone rang. It was Jim Moore.

"Tommy, we've added a chunk on to our building and I was wondering if you'd be willing to take some more aerial shots for us?"

"Sure!" We set up a time for Saturday when the building would be pretty much empty. The weather was supposed to be good, so we'd see. Oh, boy! A chance to fly in a helicopter again!

Saturday I met Jim at the local airport. Along with the Nikon I'd brought the GoPro. I had an idea for some more video, if I could convince Jim to let me fasten the camera to his baby.

I showed him the GoPro and the mount that I thought would work to fasten it to the brace for one of the skids.

"Looks like it will work to me," he replied. "You want to attach it now or wait until we get there?"

"Well, I was thinking now just to get some general aerial stuff as we flew out."

"Okay, let's do it!"

After we were in the air Jim chuckled, "Tommy, you've got that amazed look on your face again. It never gets old, does it." Not a question, a statement of an obvious truth—flying like this was a blast!

"You're right about that! Where are we going? This isn't the way to your shop."

"Welll ... I thought we'd take a little detour. You mentioned how much your grandparents liked the picture you took of their old farm and I thought you might want to surprise them with some video. Okay?"

"You bet!" It wasn't until later that I caught his mistake in referring to Hank and Joan as MY grandparents. I guess I'd already started thinking of them that way and didn't catch his goof right away.

When we got to the farm Jim circled around the property a couple of times, being sure to catch the pond and the location where the house and barn used to stand. On the ground it was difficult to see where the buildings had been, but from the air the foundation outlines were obvious.

From the farm it was only a few minutes flight to our original destination. I was fascinated at how Jim could circle the building while keeping the nose of the chopper pointed directly at it. After a couple of circuits Jim landed in the almost-empty parking lot. I dismounted the GoPro as he took the door off the helicopter.

I stashed the GoPro in my camera bag, pulled out the Nikon, and started taking some exterior pictures.

"Okay, Tommy, let's go!" Jim hollered. It didn't take too long to get the aerial shots he thought he wanted. Back on the ground he took me for a tour of the new addition, pointing out special features.

As we neared the airport on the flight back Jim looked at me. "Ready for another flying lesson?" he asked me with a grin.

"You bet!" I responded. Another chance to fly a helicopter? Let me at it!

"Let's see what you remember. Ready?" He watched as I put my hands and feet on the controls. I looked at him and nodded. He took his hands off the controls and the bird was mine! Flying might not be as good as sex, but, damn, it was close!

After what felt to be about twenty seconds Jim said he was going to take the controls back—we were running out of fuel. That's when I looked at my watch. I'd been flying for almost half an hour!

"You should really learn to enjoy yourself, Tommy," he kidded me after we landed, motioning toward my ear-to-ear grin.

After we got the 'copter back in the hanger I lugged my gear to the Jeep and walked back to Jim.

"Thanks for the flying lesson!"

"You're welcome, and I'm not even going to ask you when you'll have something to show me. I'll just wait by the phone," he joked.

"I'll have the proofs and a rough-cut of the video for you before next weekend," I promised.

Back home I was faced with a decision—start on Jim's pictures or check out the video we'd shot from the flight up.

The video won.

"Tommy, is that the farm?!"

I hadn't even heard Beth come in.

"Yeah." I explained Jim's surprise side trip.

"Oh, can you put this on a DVD so I can send it to Joan and Hank?"

"That's the plan. Should we include some of the island stuff too?"

"As long as you don't use any of those overhead shots!"

"What? You don't want your grandparents to see you topless?" It would only be fair, I thought, remembering my nude dash for the balcony the first time I saw Mount Rainier.

Damn elbow!

So let's see what's on the list ... video and stills for Jim, video for Hank and Joan, the diving video for Bob and Sue, and finishing the demo video for Joe. Damn, I was turning into a video producer! How'd that happen? Oh, well, the sooner I got back to it, the sooner I'd get it all done, I thought as I turned back to my monitor.

By the time I finally walked away from my computer I had a DVD of the farm for Hank and Joan and had a start on Jim's stuff. I had hoped to finish the diving video for the Webbers, but I felt guilty about doing that before the paying job for Jim.

Sunday morning I was back at it. I finished up a sample vid for Jim and went back through the footage for Joe. I had a little more than five minutes ready when it dawned on me that I could add some of the aerial stuff we'd shot yesterday. By the time I was done I had almost twelve minutes that looked pretty good. At least I thought so. It was time for an impartial review.

"Beth, could you come here for a minute?"

I showed her the video for Joe. "Tommy, that looks great! But can I make a suggestion?"

"Sure, that's why I asked you to look at it."

"Would it look better to spread the stuff from the helicopter out? I mean instead of one long section, put shorter parts in with the island stuff."

I thought about it for all of five seconds before I realized she was right. I thought about the old movies we were both hooked on and realized movies and TV shows today used much shorter shots. I spent the afternoon re-editing what I had and that's when I ran into another truth—you had to be a bookkeeper to keep everything straight. I had all these short clips and to remember which was which was going to take some sort of list or something. Maybe it was time to talk to one of the guys in Video Production at school?

Monday I ran across Fred Clark, the guy who was supposed to have done the video for Val's wedding until she changed her mind about having a big wedding. I explained what I was trying to do with Joe's video.

"Tommy, you're on the right track. First, shot lengths today are shorter. You can thank music videos for a lot of that. Second, for the kind of thing you're doing a tight edit using short shots tends to keep people's attention. I mean this is going to be used in a store where there's a lot going on. The same thing works better when there're a lot of distractions."

Sounded reasonable to me, and it showed me why the Institute had a separate program for those who wanted to go into movies and such.

"Stop by my locker, I'll give you a sample cut sheet that will help you keep things straight."

"Thanks, Fred. I can see I've got a lot to learn!"

"That's okay, Tommy, I'm not any good at still photography!"

When I got home the first thing I did was make a copy of Fred's cut sheet. I could see how it was going to simplify things. Then I ran Joe's video again and cringed at some of the stupid things I'd done. Oh, well, at least with video it'd be easy to fix. I wondered how film editors kept their sanity with all the short chunks of film they had to keep straight.

Two hours later I had something I thought Joe would like. I burned it onto a DVD and ran it over to the shop.

"Tommy, you're a genius! This will be great for promoting the GoPro, especially when I tell people it was done by a first-timer! Keep the camera, this is more than worth it." I wasn't sure I'd ever get into video, but it sure was nice to know somebody liked my work. Not to mention getting to put a new gadget in my bag of tricks.

"I'm glad you like it, Joe. By the way, you might want to start carrying some video editing software and maybe think of adding a class on basic video production," I said, thinking back to what I'd had to learn on my own.

Monday I dropped off proofs and a rough-cut of the video stuff I'd shot with Jim.

"Tommy, this is great!" he said. "Let me show them to everybody and I'll get back to you."

Tuesday afternoon Andy ran up as I walked in the door of the dojo. "Tommy, thank you for the advice!"

"So how did Saturday work out?" I had to grin at his excitement.

"It was great! I asked my mom what kind of flowers I should get and when I explained what they were for she hugged me and even told my dad about it."

"Did your girlfriend's mother like them?"

"Oh, yeah! She couldn't stop talking about them."

"And how about you girlfriend?"

"Oh, she gave me the biggest kiss! You were right about that, too! Um, do you have any other things I should do?" Hint, Hint!

We talked until Kurt came in to start the session. It was kind of strange not having Amanda's beautiful butt waving around in front of us.

That evening I finished the video for the Webbers and emailed it to them along with a note thanking them again for the great time we'd had—not to mention their help keeping us out of a Nassau gaol!

Friday afternoon I was out at Jim's shop—driving out there wasn't as much fun as flying out in his helicopter. He'd called, asking me to come there to go over what I'd sent him.

"Tommy, can we put videos on our web site?"

"I don't see why not, but I'm not a web designer. Let me check with Jim and Dan. Since they designed your site, they'd be the guys who'd know. Do you have anything special in mind?"

We spent the next hour going over the video footage, trying different ideas. I was glad I'd brought my laptop with all the raw footage and it quickly dawned on me that doing videos was totally different from straight photography. I had to talk Jim out of a couple of things. And I made myself a note to cull out anything I felt wasn't up to what I'd want to be seen, just like I wouldn't show all the proofs for a still shoot.

It took almost two weeks of exchanging files before Jim was happy with the results. I sent the final video and the JPGs to Jim and Dan and two days later Jim's revised web pages were ready to go.

One day, about three weeks into the quarter, Mr. Nordstrom motioned to me as everyone headed for the door after class.

"Tommy, have you ever considered becoming a teacher?"

Who, me? Teach? "Um, no, why?"

"I've been watching you helping some of the other kids. You have a knack for explaining things without talking down to them. Mr. Anson said he's seen the same thing in his class."

Mr. Anson was my instructor for Studio Lighting.

"Do you guys always talk about your students?"

"Sure, you didn't think you students had a monopoly on gossip, did you?" He grinned. "The faculty keeps track of students who show that special spark and, Tommy, we both see it in you. Oh, and Ms. Jones saw it, too."

"Hey, it wasn't that long ago that I was just learning this stuff. Remember, my first experience with a view camera was in your Photography 101 class. Doing the photos for the art catalog taught me a lot, too. About both the view camera and studio lighting. I guess I'm just trying to pass along what I learned. But I don't think I'd be happy teaching full time," I responded.

"I can understand that, but keep it in mind once you've finished school. You might consider coming back in a few years, after all, the staff here have all worked in the fields we teach."

"He thinks you should be a teacher?" Beth sounded intrigued later that night when I told her about my discussion.

"That's what he said."

"I think you'd make a great teacher, but not as a full-time profession."

"That's pretty much what I told Mr. Nordstrom. I mean, helping out the other kids is one thing, but teaching a whole class? I don't think so."

A couple of days later I was helping Greg get the tarp off his car. Since the weather had been warm enough that the snow had melted, well, mostly melted, he figured it was time to drag his car out and stop relying on Beth and me for transportation. I kept telling him we didn't mind, but I could understand why he'd feel better on his own.

"Tommy, as long as I've got you here, can I ask, would you be willing to do a family portrait of the three of us?"

"Sure! Any idea what you want? I mean a formal studio one, or something more casual, maybe even outdoors."

"Um, well, I guess sort of formal. Both our parents have been asking for something. Oh, and do you charge extra if we'd like a couple of just John?"

"Hey, don't worry about it. We're friends and I wouldn't feel right charging you."

"No, really, I insist. What do you normally charge for something like that?"

"Well, I don't know. It's been a while since I did any portraiture. Besides, it would feel like charging family. I mean since we're all under the same roof and all."

"Oh, just forget it!" he exclaimed as he turned and stomped toward the house.

What the heck had I said that set him off?

I walked into the house and plopped down at my computer. At least that didn't get mad at me.

"Tommy, what's wrong?"

"Oh, damn it, I don't know!" I explained my conversation with Greg, hoping Beth could give me an idea why he'd blown up at me.

Obviously she knew.

"Tommy, how could you! I mean, you of all people, offering somebody a freebie when getting you to accept one is like pulling teeth? On top of that, think of where you were and what you'd just done."

My blank look just made her more upset.

"Tommy, think about it! Greg and Cindy are already feeling guilty because we're giving them such a break on their rent, and you just helped Greg get his car ready to use it again after hitching rides with us all winter, and now you offer him a free portrait? C'mon, Tommy, use your head for once!"

Oh, shit. I'd really fucked up this time. I wondered if my friendship with Greg could be salvaged.

When I finally got to bed that night Beth tried to cheer me up, but I didn't want to feel better. I'd insulted my best friend and didn't know what to do about it.



-------

Chapter 19


The next morning I still didn't know how to fix things between Greg and me.

"Tommy, just let it sit for a while. Give Greg a chance to cool off for a few days," Beth said over breakfast.

"Okay. I just can't believe I did something that stupid!"

"Hey, you were trying to do a friend a favor. You just didn't think it through."

Oh, really?

I was in the garage a couple of days later when George walked across the alley.

"How's it going young fella?"

"Well, not so good right now," I sighed.

"What's wrong?"

I told him what had happened and he just shook his head.

"Tommy, you blew it. You can't step on a guy's pride like that and not expect to get in trouble."

"Yeah, I know that. I just really put my foot in it and I'm not sure what to do about it."

"Maybe turn your lady loose. I'll bet she can talk anybody into anything," he said with a grin.

"That would probably work ... Hmmm...

"Anyway, enough of my problems. What're you up to?"

"Well, I'm going back to Alaska once things warm up a bit up there."

"Again? You must really like it there."

"Son, if you ever get the chance to get there, grab it. You just can't believe what it's like until you go there."

I walked into the house just as Cindy came out of our place carrying John. She saw me just as she started up the stairs.

"Hi, Tommy! How are things going?"

"Oh, pretty good, considering. How about you?"

"Not bad. Taking care of the little one here is certainly different from going to class every day," she replied with a funny little grin.

"So are you considering becoming a full-time mom?"

"No, I don't think I'm ready for that. As a matter of fact I'm pretty sure I'll be more than ready to get back to school this fall."

"Well, if we can help at all..." I offered.

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind. I have a feeling a night alone with Greg is about due."

I just chuckled as she started up the stairs.

"So what are we doing for dinner?" Beth asked as I walked in the door.

"How about just ordering a pizza? I know it won't be as good as running out to the Palace, but I'm ready to stay home tonight. Okay?"

"Sure. I'll call one in," she replied.

Something was definitely up. When the pizza arrived I should have figured my sneaky, devious, lovely lady was up to something—no onions.

We were maybe halfway through the pie when Beth looked at me.

"Tommy, do you have a price list?"

"Huh? You mean for my photography? Well, sort of. I'm still using the one your dad helped me make up. Why?"

"Oh, just curious. Have you added anything for portraits?"

"Not really. I haven't done enough of them to think I needed anything listed."

"Oh..."

"Beth, what's going on?"

"Well ... Cindy and I were talking before you got home and she was saying if she could show Greg your price list, we might be able to end this silliness.

"What did you charge for the last portrait you did? Can you just use that?"

I thought back to my previous portrait jobs, few as there were, and thought about how much time I'd spent, on average, doing them. A little quick and dirty math in my head—multiplying the average time by my standard hourly rate—surprised me. It was obvious the flat rate I'd charged for my past portraits was barely half of what I would charge on an hourly basis. Either portrait photographers used a totally different system of figuring charges, or it was obvious that, based on my rates, I wasn't going to be spending a lot of time taking pictures of drooling babies. But it did give me an out with Greg. If I showed the flat rate fee I'd be able to give him a discount he wouldn't even know about.

"Um, well, for this one time, I suppose..."

-------

The next day at school I ran across Fred Clark in the cafeteria and couldn't think of a better person to ask about getting some basic video training. I wasn't about to switch sides, but between the stuff I'd shot on vacation and the video I'd done for Jim Moore I was convinced that it couldn't hurt to learn more about these new-fangled movin' pictures.

"I'd suggest Video Production 101 but that's normally only for people on the video path, besides it's a freshman course and you're going to be a senior, right?"

"Well, so much for that idea. Thanks, Fred."

Damn, looked like I'd have to start doing some searching.

That night I spent some time on the web looking for a class offered by the local tech schools and not finding anything that seemed to fit. A lot of the schools offered video courses, but only as part of a career path.

Looked like I was going to have to talk my way into a class that wasn't part of the normal curriculum for my major.

"Tommy, can I talk to you?"

I had just walked into the house after school the next afternoon when Greg came down the back stairs.

"Sure. What's up?"

"I was wondering ... um ... oh, dammit, would you still do a portrait for us? Cindy's not going to leave me alone until we get some pictures, especially some of the little one. I still think we should pay you, though."

"I'd be happy to do your pictures, Greg. But first let me apologize for being such an idiot for not thinking about what you'd feel when I said I wouldn't charge you. I'm sorry."

"Hey, I should be the one apologizing. It's just sometimes I feel like we're freeloading on you and Beth."

"I'll bet you didn't feel that way when you were up on that rickety ladder changing windows!" I kidded him, thinking back to our experience that first Fall when we'd just moved into the duplex. "Look, let's just forget it. I mean we've been friends too long to let this get in the way. And if you'd feel better paying me for the pictures, I'm not going to argue."

We talked for a bit and decided on Saturday afternoon for the big shoot.

As we crawled into bed that night Beth reached over and ran a hand up my leg.

"I heard you talking to Greg. So what did he want?"

I told her about our conversation. Or at least what I could remember what with the major distraction she was causing.

"At least we won't have to put up with the two of you acting like nothing was going on," my lady said with a low chuckle as she reached her destination.

WE? My final rational thought was that it was pretty obvious Greg and I had been played like a pair of Wurlitzers by our lovely ladies. A pair of consummate organists if ever there were was my final thought before I made a mess all over Beth's talented fingers.

Saturday I had the living room set up for Greg and Cindy's portraits. I'd moved most of the furniture out of the way and had my lights and one of my painted backdrops all ready to go when they came down. I'd bought some inexpensive LED light panels to use in place of my usual strobes. I figured flashing strobes and a baby probably wouldn't be a good mix.

The four of us sat around and talked for a while with little John just snoozing quietly. He was still pretty small to be creating much of a fuss.

"Tommy, I put together a short list of what we'd like, if that's okay?" Cindy asked.

"Sure. That will make things a lot easier." I looked at the list and didn't see anything unusual. Since John was still asleep, I opted to start with just Cindy and Greg. Beth held John as I got Cindy seated and arranged Greg behind her.

Ten minutes later we were ready to add John to the mix.

As Beth handed the little guy to his mother he woke up and whimpered a little. I was afraid he'd really turn on the water works and we'd have to reschedule the rest of the shoot, but after just a few seconds he snuggled up to Cindy and I was able to finish the session with the three of them in short order.

The last item on the list was John by himself. Cindy brought his favorite blanket and she formed it into a little cocoon for him. When she put him down he just looked up at me and smiled, and that was that.

"Tommy, I'd like one last picture."

"Sure. What did we miss?" I'd thought we'd been pretty sure to get all the possibilities.

"I want one that, I guess, you could call 'Mother and Child, '" she said as she started to take her clothes off.

Now obviously I'd seen Cindy in her birthday suit, but I still glanced at Greg to get his reaction. After all, even though we'd all been nude together at the farm, this was a different situation. The math types say two things equal to a third are necessarily equal to each other but I didn't agree, at least not in this situation. It may have been true in math, but not when you're talking about a guy and his lady. But Greg obviously knew what Cindy was up to and didn't seem to have any problems with it.

By the time I looked back Cindy was naked and holding a now equally naked John to her breast. It was obvious what image she was looking for and, with just a little adjustment of her pose for propriety's sake, and a little fiddling with the lights, I had what I hoped she wanted ... All the time trying to ignore the fact that she'd worked off her pregnancy pounds and was looking fine.

"I know better than to ask when they'll be ready," she said as she finished getting dressed, "but could you give me a hint?"

"How about Monday afternoon?" I answered with a grin.

"Sure! Thanks again, Tommy!" she said as she gave me a big kiss. A little incentive to get them done early?

After Greg, Cindy, and John left I loaded the files onto my computer and started working on them. I had just started on the "mother and child" image when my lady walked up.

"I wish I had tits like Cindy's," she sighed.

"I don't," I replied.

Beth gave me a disbelieving look. "Don't kid me, Tommy. I've seen how you look at her and the other girls. All you guys are the same!"

'Here we go again, ' I thought to myself, remembering that first weekend we spent together. The old Beth was back. The one who felt inadequate because she felt her chest didn't measure up.

"Beth," I said as I stood up and looked into her eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you it doesn't matter. In fact, I'm glad you're not built like Cindy."

"Come on, Tommy, I don't believe that!"

"Think about it. If you looked like all those other girls would we have ever gotten together? You wouldn't have felt inadequate and would have been hanging out with the jocks and the A-list group. I wouldn't even have shown up on your radar."

I could see her getting mad at the thought that she could have been one of "those people."

"That's not true! I know we'd have still..." she stumbled to a stop.

"Wouldn't we?" she finished in a little voice.

"If you hadn't felt so plain, don't you think you would have ended up with the 'in' group?"

She was silent for a long time.

"Do you really think I would have? Then why didn't I end up with them after you convinced me I looked good? Do you really think I could be like those people?"

That brought me up short. I thought back to my fears of what would happen that Monday after her rebirth and I suddenly didn't feel very good about myself.

"Well?" she insisted.

"Beth ... I ... Oh, shit, I guess I didn't think this through very well."

"Tommy, I'm grateful every day that we met and I think we would have met even if I hadn't felt the way I did. It's fate and you're stuck with me!"

I could live with that.

-------

The next Monday I was sitting in my Studio Lighting class before anyone else showed up. I was trying to figure out how to talk my way into Video Production when Mr. Anson walked in.

"Hi, Tommy, you look like you've got something on your mind. What's up?"

I explained what I wanted and asked if there was any way to do it. He thought about it for a minute. "You know, one of the advantages of attending a school like this is flexibility. Let me do some checking for you. You're thinking of this for next year, right?"

"Yeah, it would have to be. I don't even know when it's offered."

"Let me check and I'll let you know."

"Great, thanks!"

When I got home from school I just barely got in the house when Cindy was at the door.

"Hi, Cindy! What's up?" As if I didn't know.

"Tommy! Please tell me you've got our pictures ready. Please, please, please?"

"Oh, those. Come on in. It'll just take me a minute to burn them to a disk for you."

It took more than a minute because Cindy first wanted to see them on my big monitor.

"Oh, Tommy! Those are great! I really like that last one," she said with a little blush. As with the shot of Beth, I'd carefully posed her so her nudity was more hinted at than actually seen and made some subtle adjustments in Photoshop to highlight John at her breast without making the adjustments obvious.

Beth walked in just as I finished burning the disk for Cindy and of course wanted to see the final images, so I ran through them again. After our friend went upstairs my lady turned to me.

"Tommy, promise me that when we have kids you'll do a picture like that for me."

"Welll ... what would it be worth to you?" I leered at my princess.

Beth snuggled up to me and made me an offer I couldn't refuse.

-------

Tuesday we got an interesting assignment from Mr. Nordstrom.

"What I want to see from you is an image with something other than a normal perspective and point of view. Something other than an eye-level shot. Oh, and I want to see you use the swings and tilts available on the view camera."

After class I walked over to the dojo for my weekly pounding. I had no more than walked in the door when Andy was there looking like something important had happened.

"Tommy, I took Nancy to a movie Saturday."

"Great! How'd it go?"

"Well, pretty good. I mean the movie was okay. Then my mom drove us out to that pizza place you'd told me about. It was great! They put us in a booth way back in the corner and my mom said she'd seen some friends out in the big room, so we had the whole booth to ourselves!" I smelled a little matchmaking on Janine's part. I'd have to ask her next time we were there.

"So how was the pizza?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Um, well ... the pizza was great, but, um ... Tommy, have you ever had ... well ... um..."

"Andy, did you get a little too excited?" My young friend's blush answered that question.

"Oh, jeez, Tommy. I've never been so embarrassed! The waitress brought our drinks and told us the kitchen was running a little behind and it would take about forty-five minutes to get our pizza. I found Mom and she said that wouldn't be a problem. When I got back Nancy motioned for me to sit on her side of the booth, snuggled right up next to me, and asked how we could kill the time while we waited for our pizza. I kind of kidded her about making out and, well ... um ... we did. At least until I sort of..."

Ah, THAT problem. "Did you have a jacket with you to cover it up?"

"Yeah." By this time he looked ready to self-immolate. "I went to the can and tried to clean up as much as I could, but you should have seen our waitress. She had just brought our pie when I got back and she grinned and winked at me! Do you think she knew what happened?"

I had to chuckle. "Andy, let me tell you about some of the things that have happened in that booth and in the parking lot out back." I told him some of the "snuggle booth" stories I'd heard. I'm not sure it helped, but at least Andy was laughing by the time Kurt came out to start our warm-ups.

That evening I told Beth about Andy's experience and she snuggled up to me and tried to do her best to get me to react the same way. Of course with my exemplary self control I didn't have Andy's problem. At least not right away...

That weekend found me on my belly on a downtown sidewalk with a black cloth over my head, staring into one of the school's cameras, trying to get just the right image. It was kind of funny, listening to the comments of passersby. Was I sick? Or maybe just one of the local winos? Apparently no one noticed the thousands of dollars worth of camera sticking out the other end of the drape.

Back home I fired up my computer and started trying to match the images I'd taken with the one I had in my head. Easier said than done.

"Hey, Tommy. What'cha doing?"

"Just trying to get my shot for class finished," I said as Beth walked into my "studio."

"Is that a fire hydrant? It looks like a skyscraper!"

"That's what it is, all right. Mr. Nordstrom said he wanted us to use the camera adjustments, but he didn't specify how to use them," I replied with a chuckle at what my instructor would say at my re-working of the local skyline. At least I HOPED he'd like it! I'd find out on Monday.

"Mr. Randahl, playing fast and loose with my instructions again, I see," he said when he brought up my picture. I'd used the view camera adjustments in the opposite way they'd usually be used. Instead of using the tilts to correct the perspective I'd tilted the lens up to make a common fireplug look like Trump Tower with the rest of the city skyline behind it.

"Well, you just said to use the camera's adjustments. You didn't specify how."

He just sighed. "You're right. I should have known better. Well, as long as you've provided us with an example of what a camera like that is capable of, let's talk about it..." The rest of the hour passed quickly, especially because my unorthodox fiddling hadn't gotten me in trouble.

Later that evening, my phone rang just as we were finishing dinner.

"Tommy, can we stop down? Cindy decided which pictures she wants."

"Sure, Greg, come on down."

Greg and Cindy showed up with a list of the pictures they had decided on.

"That's quite a list," I kidded my friends.

Then we got to the last picture.

"I've always been envious of that picture of Beth you've got hanging in your bedroom, and now I can have one of Cindy," Greg said when I brought up the "mother and child" image on my monitor. "How big can you make this?" he added.

I glanced at Cindy and saw a blush creeping over her face. Well, there's a first time for everything, I guess.

"Well, the lab started offering forty-by-sixty prints, but they run about a hundred and a half and double that if you want it mounted."

"Ah ... well ... nothing that big! How about the same size as the one you've got?"

We settled on an eleven-by-fourteen, and Greg asked the sixty-four dollar question.

"Tommy, how much is all this going to cost?"

I'd been keeping track of everything he wanted in Excel so all I had to do was scroll down and show him the bottom line.

"I hope our parents keep their promises to help us with this," I heard him mumble under his breath. I resisted any mention of anything like a quantity discount. I may not be the fastest learner, but I get the hint eventually. Even with Greg spending the summer making pretty good money working construction with his dad we were talking about a good chunk of change, and I really felt uncomfortable charging my friend the same amount as a stranger.

The rest of the quarter seemed to crawl by. My classes, with the exceptions of Photography and Studio Lighting,  weren't anything special. Oh, I learned something from all of them, but it was those two where I really seemed to get the most out of each day's class. Mr. Anson came through and I was able to schedule the video class for the next Winter quarter. One hitch. I could sign up for the class, but only to audit it, which meant I'd have the privilege of paying full tuition, but get no credit. That bothered me until a little quick figuring told me I could breathe again—I'd still have enough credits to graduate on schedule the following Spring!

My after school self-defense sessions gave me a chance to continue to mentor Andy in the ways of women—like I was an expert! A case of the blind leading the blind for sure. He seemed to be getting more confident around the girls in his classes and had suffered no long-term effects from his experience at the Pizza Palace. Apparently word of what a nice guy he was got around, and he seemed a little stunned at the number of girls who suddenly wanted to spend time with him.

Amanda never did come back and I wondered why. It couldn't have been just because she didn't have any luck with me. At least I didn't think so. Although I didn't miss her pushiness, I did miss the sight of her perfect leotard-encased derrière bouncing enticingly during each session. Andy seemed to feel the same way.

As the quarter rolled by, I noticed something was bothering Beth. I also knew asking her about it wouldn't accomplish anything—when she was ready to talk about it, she would. Eventually, however, I couldn't take it any more.

"Beth, what's wrong?" We were in bed one night, both of us sound asleep, or so I thought, when I woke up and realized my lady was still awake and restless.

"Oh, it's nothing. I just had to make up my mind about something and I think I have."

That didn't sound good.

"What's the problem?"

"One of my professors mentioned an opportunity that she thought would fit me. But I'm not going to take it."

"What was it?"

"It was a chance to spend a quarter at McMurdo Station, but it would have meant being away for all of Winter quarter."

"McMurdo? You mean the one in Antarctica? And Winter quarter? I mean, it's damned cold down there!"

"Tommy, remember they're in the Southern Hemisphere, their seasons are the opposite of ours."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot that. But why would you even consider turning them down? It sounds like a great chance."

"Oh, it would have been, but I just can't go," she replied, miserably.

"Why not? I mean, there's plenty of time and I'm sure I can work out something at school. A leave of absence or something like that. I'll bet I could even earn some school credit if I showed them a portfolio of frozen photos." The more I thought about it, the more excited I got. I mean, how often does a chance like this come up?

"Tommy," Beth said in a very quiet voice, "you couldn't come with me. McMurdo Station already has its own photo section and there's no room for long-term visitors and I don't want to go without you."

And suddenly there it was—a boxcar full of guilt on my shoulders. I mean, Beth was willing to give up the chance of a lifetime because I couldn't go with her?

"Beth, don't turn down a chance like this because of me! I mean, it wouldn't feel right if I was the reason you didn't go!"

"Are you sure about that? It would mean my not being here for Christmas and New Years and everything."

"Beth, go already!"

"Well ... let me check into it a little more. I mean Professor Voss just mentioned it. I'm not even sure I'd qualify."

"You won't know if you don't try," I said as I pulled her close. It took a long time to get to sleep that night.



-------

Chapter 20


I had just finished my morning bathroom rounds and was padding back into the bedroom clad only in my boxers when I saw my princess leaning over making the bed. The fact that she was clad only in a pair of the lacy nothings that I loved so much had all the blood that normally lived between my ears taking up residence further south.

"EEP!" was her response when I fell to my knees behind her and slowly ran my tongue over one of her beautifully exposed cheeks.

"Tommy! We're going to be late for school if you don't cut that out!" she said as she pushed her perfect derriere back into me. 'How come it's always my fault? With temptation like that put in front of me, is it really fair to expect me to take all the blame?' I wondered as I slid a hand between her knees and started north until my fingers encountered a warm, damp spot that told me I'd reached my destination.

I ran my hands further up and slid them into the waistband of her panties.

Panties—what a plebeian name for such an amazing piece of feminine apparel, and is it kosher to call it a waistband when, in this case at least, it resided so far south of that particular portion of the female anatomy?

As I slid them off I heard a low growl that I knew well as a warning that I'd better not plan on stopping any time soon. As soon as I had the article of apparel in question down to her knees Beth stepped away from me and, with a quick kick, was suddenly and gloriously naked.

My boxers soon joined the pile on the floor and my lovely lady bent over the bed again and pushed herself back against me.

Neither of us were great "doggie-style" fans, but that morning it just worked. When I reached around to cradle her breasts she reached between her legs to lead me home.

As I eased into her she cupped the boys. "We're not going to hurt each other, are we?" I could hear her grin as her grasp turned into a soft caress.

As we moved together I remembered a conversation a bunch of guys had back in junior high. One of the guys had asked if there were different kinds of sex and Jake Smithers, one of the few guys who'd actually had any experience—or so he bragged—insisted that all sex was the same. "Fucking, making love, the old in-and-out, call it anything you want, it's all the same," he insisted.

He was wrong.

Oh, sure, sometimes sex was just—just?!—scratching a mutual itch, but other times, like today, it was a joyful celebration of togetherness.

Beth's extra caresses had me exploding after only a few thrusts. We collapsed on the bed, still attached, until I recovered enough to finish what I had started, leaving both of us breathless.

After lying on the bed for a few minutes trying to recover my lady jumped up. "Tommy, move it or you'll miss your first class!" she said as she searched for where her panties had landed.

I just rolled over, grinned, and said one word... "Saturday."

Beth dead-stopped, thought about it for a second, tossed her underwear over her shoulder, jumped back into bed and snuggled up next to me.

A ringing phone woke us an hour later and had me scrambling around trying to spot my phone. I finally found it on the nightstand, right where I'd left it.

"Er ... hello?" Wake up, Tommy!

I saw Beth roll out of bed and pad toward the bathroom.

-------

"Who was that, Tommy?" she asked as she walked back into the room, running a towel through her damp hair.

"That was Cliff Fletcher. He said he and his wife, Claire, would like me to do a portrait for them. I told him I'd call him back."

"Why the call back? Is there a problem?"

"Yeah. They're Sally Fletcher's parents."

"Sally Fletcher? Oh! Is that the little girl whose portrait you did when you first started? The one who was dying?" I just nodded as I thought back to the night I'd met the bright six-year-old who wasn't expected to see her next birthday.

"Yeah, he asked it I could do another portrait. I said I would, but the more I think about it I don't know if I could get through it. I mean Sally was such a bright, happy little girl and doing a portrait of just her parents, well, I just don't know..." I ran down. I didn't like the idea of turning down a client, especially a return one, but I wasn't sure I could handle this.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Beth asked as she hugged me tightly. "Would that help?"

"Oh, please. I'd love to have you there with me."

"Sure," she said as she started to rub my back. "When do you want to schedule it?"

"A week from today, if they're free," I answered.

-------

"Tommy, can I ask you for a favor?"

I'd answered my phone and I could tell from the way Cindy asked she wasn't sure what my answer would be.

"Sure, Cindy, you can always ask," I kidded my friend.

"Tommy! Really, could you watch John for us tonight? It would only be for a couple of hours. Could you?"

"Sure. Beth and I don't have anything planned. What time?"

"About seven? Greg and I would like some alone time to go out for a nice dinner."

"Okay, we'll see you then."

"Oh, thank you!"

"Who was that, and what did you volunteer for now?"

Beth had walked in and given me one of her patented Tommy made another promise that I'm going to have to help him keep looks.

"That was Cindy. Greg wants to take her out for dinner and asked if we could watch John for them."

"Tonight? Well, have fun," my lady replied. "I'm going to be busy tonight, remember?"

OH SHIT! Had I forgotten something? Then I heard the giggle.

"Oh, Tommy! You should see the look on your face! I'm not going anyplace, it's just so much fun to watch you panic!"

Speaking of panic ... my princess had obviously forgotten that I know all her ticklish spots.

We spent the afternoon cleaning up the place—at least as much as it required. Beth had inherited the "clean" gene from her mother and enough of her habits had rubbed off on me that keeping the place clean was more of an ongoing thing, not a panicked reaction when company was due.

About five we decided to take a break and grab some food.

"So what elegant place are you taking me dining tonight?" Beth asked.

"I could take you out for a fancy meal at Mack and Don's Steak House," I kidded her.

Neither of us had retained the usual adolescent acceptance that provender from the home of the golden arches actually constituted food,  so her mock gagging was all my suggestion earned—or deserved.

"How about Japanese?" she countered.

"Sounds good!"

A quick shower and we were out the door.

We had just gotten home when Beth started kidding me about leaving me alone to take care of John.

"The Varsity is doing a Japanese film festival and they're running Rashômon tonight. And I thought after that meal it would be an appropriate way for me to spend the evening."

"Oh, we're back to leaving me to fend for myself, eh? I don't think so."

And the wrestling match was on.

"Hey! Are you guys decent?"

"Um, yeah. Come on in." I'd been so busy finding all Beth's special spots again and I hadn't even heard a knock or the bell.

Note to self: Make sure to lock the door before attacking my lady. Greg and Cindy knew us well enough that walking into each other's place wasn't that unusual.

"We're not interrupting anything, are we? I heard the giggling and thought maybe..."

I looked up and saw the matching grins on Greg and Cindy's faces. John? He was snuggled up to Cindy's chest. Obviously busy with dinner. Lucky guy.

"Ah, no. I was just explaining to Beth that she shouldn't scare me."

"And you do that physically?" Greg said with a grin.

"Only in extreme cases," I replied as I gave my lady the evil eye, hoping she wouldn't volunteer the reason for my panic. I didn't want to spoil our friends' special night out by making them feel guilty about asking us to watch John.

By that time the tot in question was done with dinner and seemed to require some maintenance.

"Come on Cindy, we can change him on our bed," Beth volunteered. As they walked into the other room I found myself releasing the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I was relieved I wasn't the one to have to deal with a full diaper.

Eventually the two girls came back to the living room with John in my lady's arms. After Cindy checked once more to make sure we had the number for the restaurant, they left for their special night out.

Beth and I looked at each other and all I could do was shrug—now what?

"Tommy, relax," she told me after a bit. "I'll just hold him until he falls asleep, just go do whatever you want."

Manfully ignoring the urge to tell her what I really wanted to do, I sat down at my computer to finish up a project I'd started the day before.

An hour or so later I decided a break was in order and had just turned off my machine when I heard a yelp from Beth. I got to the living room to see John with one chubby little hand pulling down the neck of my lady's blouse and a look on his face I could swear was disappointment as he looked inside.

I tried—I really did—to keep a straight face, but a strangled chuckle escaped my lips. I knew how sensitive Beth was about her perceived lack of cleavage and had done everything I could to convince her she didn't need any more to look great, but her expression told me I might have to start over.

I settled down next to her on the couch. Now what? Having John sitting on her lap pretty much killed any idea I might have had about starting to rebuild her confidence in her looks.

Beth reached for the remote and found a movie neither of us remembered seeing.

By the time our friends were back it was pretty obvious why neither of us remembered the movie. Bad, just plain BAD. The movie ended just as our doorbell rang. I got up and found our friends back from their night of revelry.

"So, Greg, are you going to get lucky tonight?" I kidded my friend as I answered the door.

"No, I am," Cindy replied.

"What? I mean, but..."

Cindy grinned at my confusion. "Tommy, tonight was on me, so I'm the one who'll get lucky."

I gave my best friend a funny look. Normally Greg was pretty particular when it came to paying for things like that.

"Well... ," he admitted with a little blush, "Cindy said she was paying tonight because she's made more than I have lately. I mean, working for my dad usually keeps me pretty busy, but this winter there wasn't much to keep us going, so Cindy made more working at the drug store..."

Nothing like putting your best friend in an embarrassing spot, is there?

"Well, whoever paid, did you enjoy yourselves?" Beth came to my rescue while she gave me the look she reserves for when I REALLY put my foot in it.

"Oh, it was GREAT! I'd almost forgotten what a nice, fancy dinner in a quiet restaurant was like. Thank you so much for watching John for us!"

"No problem," Beth replied.

After our friends went upstairs Beth snuggled up next to me on the couch.

"Tommy, how many kids do you think we should have?"

"Um ... ah ... I haven't really thought about it," I stammered. I figured we had another year of school to get through, so any decision about kids could wait. Apparently, I was wrong ... again. "Why? Are you changing your mind about waiting?"

"No, it's just that watching John tonight kind of got me thinking. I mean, do you want a big family, or a little one?"

"Well, since both of us are from small families and we turned out so well..."

"Tommy! I'm serious. I know it's not a decision we need to make right now, but I was just curious."

"Beth, I don't know, really. I mean, I've always assumed we'd have kids, but never considered how many. Maybe start with one and go from there?"

"You're scared of the idea of a big family, aren't you?"

Damn, she's reading my mind again!

"No, not scared so much as, oh, I guess you could say undecided. I mean, I'd like to at least get settled after we graduate before we start having a flock of kids. I want to make sure we can support them before we have them. Look at some of the kids we knew back in high school. Their families couldn't afford to let them do anything. Don't you think we should get settled before we start a family?"

Beth sat there for what seemed to be a long time before she answered.

"I guess you're right. There was just something about taking care of John that triggered something..." she ran down, got up and wandered toward the bedroom.

With a sigh, I walked into my room, fired up my computer and finished up the project I'd been working on earlier. I had pretty much convinced myself our conversation hadn't spooked me when a pair of warm breasts snuggled up around my ears.

"Tommy, are you coming to bed soon?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah," I said. A quick hand, slid up the outside of her thigh, proved her to be as delightfully bare below as she was above.

Before I could do anything else, my lady reached over my shoulder to turn off my computer. From the stiff nipple she pressed into my ear, it was obvious someone was more than ready. That made two of us.

As she led me to my doom I could only marvel at how her two thousand parts moved.

I quickly divested myself of all those pesky clothes and jumped into bed as Beth reached up and shut off the lamp.

She ran her hand up my body and I heard a low chuckle.

"Apparently our discussion about kids didn't bother you too much," she said. "It feels like you're—you should excuse the expression—all cocked and ready to shoot."

I was going to moan over her atrocious pun when her mouth came down on mine, lips open and tongue searching. Suddenly her sense of humor didn't seem to matter much...

The following Saturday Beth helped me load my photo gear in the Jeep and we were off to the Fletcher's. I just hoped I could get through the session without thinking too much of the doomed little girl who'd had such an effect on me.

I was halfway to their house when Beth interrupted my musing.

"Tommy, where are you going? This isn't the way to the address you've got here."

I pulled over to look at the appointment form she was holding. She was right. The Fletchers must have moved. I had automatically aimed the Tommymobile toward their old house without noticing the change in their address. I turned at the next corner and soon we were at our destination. I was surprised to see their new home—it was much smaller than the one where I'd done the first set of pictures for them.

I knocked on the front door.

"Hi, Tommy, come on in!"

I stood rooted in place. Standing in front of me was Sally! The young girl who wasn't expected to see her next birthday was standing right there—standing! She was using a walker, but she was on her feet! Obviously, I'd missed something along the way.

"UM, h-hi, Sally," I stammered.

Sally spotted Beth behind me. "Is this your girlfriend?" she asked, curiosity oozing from every syllable.

"Yeah. Sally, this is Beth. Beth, this is Sally."

"Hello, Sally. I'm glad to meet you," my lady said as she gave me a look.

"Well, hello, Tommy." Sally's father walked up behind his daughter.

"This is Beth, Daddy!" the young girl exclaimed. "Tommy, are you going to marry her?"

"Sally! Don't be nosy," her father chided his daughter. "Come on in," he said as he moved out of the doorway.

We walked in the house just as Mrs. Fletcher came up.

"Tommy, you remember Claire, don't you?"

"I certainly do. Hello again, Claire. I'd like to introduce my assistant for the evening, my girlfriend, Beth. Beth this is Mrs. Fletcher, Claire."

"I'm happy to meet you, Claire," Beth said with a tone in her voice I couldn't quite identify.

"Beth, I'm glad to meet you. Well, hello again, Tommy. I'm glad you could do another family portrait for us."

"Thank you. I'm glad you called me."

"I see you're all ready for us," I said when I saw the piano bench already set up in front of the fireplace. Above the fireplace was the twenty-by-twenty-four-inch portrait I'd originally done for them.

"Will this work?" Mr. Fletcher asked.

"That will work fine. Why don't I get my stuff and we can get going?"

"Sounds good. Can I help?" he asked as we walked towards the door.

"Sure. I seem to be travelling with seven elephants worth of gear these days. I can use the extra hand."

As we carried my equipment from the car, I felt an explanation was in order. "Cliff, I'm sorry I acted so stupid when Sally answered the door. I mean when you said the two of you would like a portrait and I remembered you'd said Sally wasn't supposed to see her next birthday, and I guess when I saw her standing there, I just ... well..." I ran down.

He told me what had happened since I'd seen them last.

Sally's doctors had pretty much given up on finding a therapy that would help her and they thought they'd lose her. Then Cliff heard of a clinic in Switzerland that sounded promising. He contacted them and set up an appointment. They flew to the clinic, where Sally spent almost five months in treatment. That's when things got sticky—their insurance company refused to cover what it called "experimental" procedures, and they ended up selling their big house and moving into the much smaller place to cover the medical bills.

"It's not as nice as our old house, but we've still got our daughter. And that makes it all worth it," he said as we carried the last of my gear into the house.

Eventually we got everything in and set up.

"Do you have any particular poses in mind?" I asked.

"Well, we want some of the three of us and some of Sally by herself," Claire answered.

I started with Sally and her mother sitting on the bench with Mr. Fletcher—Tommy, call me Cliff— standing behind them and went from there. As we moved from pose to pose, I could see the adoration Cliff and Claire had for their daughter—their miracle child.

As we finished up I could see Sally looking as if she wanted something but didn't know how to ask.

"Can I ask Tommy for something special?" Sally asked her father when we were almost done.

"You can always ask," he replied.

"Can we take a picture with my folks sitting and me standing behind them?" I could see the excitement in the young girl's eyes.

"Anything you want," I replied. "You're the boss." I rearranged her parents on the bench and had Sally stand behind them. I could tell the pose wasn't what Sally wanted.

"Sally, could you move a little closer and put your hands on your parents' shoulders?"

She nudged her walker out of the way and stood up straight, using her parents for balance. Perfect. Beth moved the walker out of the frame and I got behind the camera and started shooting.

"Sally, do you want to try one by yourself?" I asked after a couple of exposures of the three of them.

I saw a quick flash of panic, followed by a determined look.

"Yeah, I'd like that," she replied.

I looked around to find something she could use for support. "Why don't you move beside the wingback chair and we'll see what we can do."

Her father helped her get to the chair. She grasped the wing and stood proudly next to it.

I took a couple of shots and then had her bring her free hand up and rest it on top of the other.

"Are you comfortable like that?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine," she replied with a big grin.

"Can you tip your head to the side and rest it on your hands?"

As I took picture after picture I kept up a constant dialog with her, trying to get as many different expressions as I could.

Beth was standing off to one side. She'd fallen into the role of gofer—helping move lights and adjust the barndoors on them to get just the right effect, keeping track of Sally's walker, and generally keeping me sane and on track. She caught my eye and pointed with her chin at Sally's parents on the couch.

Claire was holding a tissue to her eyes and Cliff had just swiped his hand over his. Obviously seeing their daughter standing for her pictures had affected them deeply.

It wasn't too much later that was obvious Sally was getting tired and I called an end to our session.

Cliff helped me break down my equipment and carry everything to the Jeep.

Back in the house I sat down on the couch and Sally plopped down next to me.

"So IS Beth the girl you're going to marry?" she asked just as the lady in question walked back in with drinks for us. I thought back to the look I'd gotten from her when I'd introduced her as my girlfriend, not my fiancé.

"Yeah, we just want to finish school first," I explained.

"But you are getting married, right?" Obviously she was curious about our relationship.

"If she'll still have me, you bet!"

My lady snuggled up next to me, bent over and bit my ear. Sally giggled at that and I was left wondering just what the nip meant. Was it an endearment or a warning?

"I guess I'll have to keep him," Beth responded.

"Good," the young girl pronounced. "You two look so good for each other."

As we lay in bed that night thoughts of Sally kept me awake. How could a couple learn to raise and care for a child with a medical condition like hers?

"Tommy, cut it out. Don't work yourself into a fit thinking about Sally."

I tried, I really did, but four AM found me still staring at the ceiling. Could I do it? Was I responsible enough to face the possibility of raising a child with a life-threatening problem like Sally's?

-------

I got home Monday after class and grabbed the mail on the way in the house. Nothing but a bunch of ads and political crap. Then I spotted two envelopes that were REAL mail. I could guess what was in one. The other was a big manila envelope with Beth's name on it and I had a feeling she was going to be really excited when she saw it.

Beth got home about an hour later.

"Hey, beautiful, what's new?" I asked after trading kisses.

"Oh, not much. How about you? Did you get the mail?"

"Not much here, either, and, yes, I got the mail. The usual junk, and we got the official invitations to the kids' graduation," I said, waving the smaller envelope.

"Tommy! Stop calling you brother and Gail 'kids!'," she said in mock exasperation.

"I guess since they're both graduating I should cut them some slack, huh?"

"Yes you should. Anything else?"

"Well, a big envelope with your name on it. Probably just junk mail. I'll just toss in with the rest of the recycling," I said, waving it in the air.

"TOMMYYY!"

Beth grabbed the envelope out of my hand and ripped it open.

"I've been accepted for the Antarctic trip! This is my acceptance letter!"

"That's a pretty big envelope for just a letter," I responded.

"Oh, there's a bunch of other stuff, too. Including a suggested list of warm clothing," she said, passing me the list.

"Looks like we'll be making a trip to the sports store, eh?" A lot of the stuff on the list was clothing even heavier than what we already had. I don't think the idea of my lady spending three months down there had really hit me until I looked over that list. "I hope you've got your credit cards."

-------

"Tommy, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to find another photographer."

Beth and I stood on the Fletchers' front step, dumfounded. I tried to figure out what I'd done wrong. I'd emailed them copies of the portraits from our session and Sally's father had called and told me they wanted me to come over.

"Cliff, don't give Tommy a hard time!" Claire said, giving her husband an elbow that had me wincing in sympathy. "Tommy, what my wise-ass husband meant was you made it tough to decide which pictures we wanted. You're just too good!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher." It was always a kick when a client really liked my efforts.

"Tommy, please call me Claire," she said as she motioned us into the house. The dining room table was covered in proofs, neatly ordered by subject—the three of them together in one pile, just Cliff and Claire in another, and those of Sally alone in a third group.

Sally came into the room, using her walker for support. She crossed the room and threw both arms around me. "Tommy, I LOVE my pictures and I want them all!"

"Thank you, Sally. I'm glad you like them. But, all of them?"

"I just can't make up my mind. Every one is just different enough that I can't decide!"

"Well, let's see if we can trim down the choices a bit."

Almost an hour later Beth and I walked out to the Jeep with my biggest portrait order yet.

"Tommy, I'm going to have to agree with Sally," Beth told me as we were driving home. "Every one of those shots of her showed a different side of her personality. I love the one where she was standing next to the chair with her chin resting on her hands with that little Mona Lisa smile, like she knew something no one else did."

I spent the next couple of evenings touching up the files and sending the order off to Tim at the lab; he replied that the prints would be ready in three days.

Just in time for the end of school for the summer. Only a year to go!



-------

Chapter 21


"I can't believe how beautiful that looks!"

Beth and I had stopped at the lab and picked up the Fletchers' prints; I's barely made it home before she grabbed the envelope, ran into the house, and spread the pictures over the dining-room table. I had to agree—the print she was holding was possibly my best work yet. I'd worked over the image Sally had selected of all those I'd taken of her and had decided an individual print just wasn't going to cut it—my young subject had given me too many different expressions for any one picture to do justice to all her moods and expressions. I'd dithered for a couple of days until the obvious beat me over the head—a collage. I'd done them before, of course, but they'd always been a bit risqué and it just didn't occur to me at first to do one for Sally.

I hadn't shown the final image to Beth before I sent the order to Tim at the lab. Her first look at it was the print she was holding.

I heard a sniffle and looked at my lady just in time to see her wipe away a tear.

"Tommy, I just ... I mean ... oh, shit. This is just beautiful. You've captured Sally perfectly!"

I looked over her shoulder and wasn't going to argue. What I had been hoping I'd see was exactly what I got—Sally in all her many moods. Now I just hoped my young model and her parents would agree, especially since I'd had the collage done as a sixteen-by-twenty-inch print instead of the eleven-by-fourteen they'd ordered. I thought back to that evening Beth and I had spent at the Fletchers' as they tried to figure out which pictures they wanted. Sally had wanted ALL of hers and it took a lot of hemming and hawing—not to mention a few tears—before the final decision was made.

Oh, well, if they didn't want it, maybe I could talk them into letting me use it as part of my portfolio, and I'd just have Tim print their original choice.

"Tommy, call the Fletchers now! And I'm going with you. I want to see their expressions when they see this!"

It turned out they were available that evening. I was afraid I'd have to tie Beth in her seat as we drove to their house. I hadn't seen her that excited for a long time.

"Come in, come in," Cliff said when we rang their bell. "I hope Sally gets home soon. The girls can hardly wait to see the pictures. For that matter, I can't either!"

Claire stood when we walked in. "Tommy, Beth! Come in. We've been on pins and needles waiting to see if your pictures look as good as the last set you did for us."

"Where's Sally?" I asked. I was surprised when she wasn't there, as excited as she'd been the night they'd decided what they wanted.

"She's just finishing her physical therapy session and should be here any minute. Her therapist is dropping her off when they're done."

I opened my portfolio and took out all but Sally's collage.

"Well, here're the pictures you ordered," I said as I laid out the smaller prints.

"Tommy, these look even better than the first set!" Claire said as she sorted through the prints. "But I don't see the one of Sally by herself. I remember the trouble she had deciding which one she wanted."

"Well, I hope you don't mind, but I tried something different for her. I don't want you to think you have any obligation to take this since it's not what you ordered, but since the three of you had such a tough time picking out the image you wanted for her, I did this instead." I reached into my portfolio and pulled out the big collage. When Claire saw it she burst into tears and Cliff pulled her to his side, obviously as affected as she was.

"Tommy, it's beautiful!" Cliff said in a hushed voice as he hugged his wife.

Claire reached for the print, then pulled her hand back, almost as if she was afraid that touching it would cause it to disappear.

"Oh, Tommy, I ... I don't have the words... ," Claire said as she stared at the collage. I guessed I wasn't going to be ordering their original choice, after all. "How did you ever think of doing this?"

Between all the praise and the thought of trying to explain to Claire where the collage idea got its start, I felt my face ready to combust. I glanced at Beth and saw her struggling to keep a straight face.

She wasn't helping.

"Quick, put it back in your carrier!" Cliff said. "I just heard a car in the driveway. Sally's home and I want you to surprise her."

I got the collage back in my portfolio just before Sally came into the room, guiding her walker before her.

"Tommy! Have you got the pictures?" My young subject was almost bouncing from foot to foot.

Taking a cue from our host, I looked at Sally. "Sally, I've got all of them except the one you wanted. I'm sorry."

At her crestfallen look, I took pity on her and reached in and pulled out the collage.

I don't THINK any windows in the neighborhood shattered at her scream, but I wasn't going to bet on it.

Sally abandoned her walker, jumped in my lap and almost strangled me with her hug. I never realized what muscular arms someone who grew up using a wheelchair could develop.

Eventually she released me but stayed on my lap. She reached down and picked up the collage and just stared at it, focusing first on one image, then another. Eventually she carefully put it down and treated me to another hug.

"Tommy, it's beautiful! Where did you get the idea? You must be a genius."

Here we go again!

"Sally, I had a couple of other people who had the same problem you did—they couldn't decide which picture they wanted so I combined all the ones they liked into one."

The young girl looked at me. "You must be the best photographer ever," she said in an awed voice.

"Oh, I can't take credit for the idea, it's been used before. I just sort of swiped it," I admitted.

"Well I still think you're the best photographer EVER!"

"Thank you. I'm glad you like it."

"How much extra do we owe you for this?" Cliff asked.

"Cliff, if you'll let me use a copy in a portfolio of my work I won't charge you anything extra. Just the amount we originally agreed on."

"If you've used this idea before, why don't you already have one to show off your work?"

"Um ... well ... ah ... you see..." I ran down.

"What Tommy is trying to say is that his other collages were kind of um, private," my princess said. I know she was trying to get me off the hook, but her explanation had Cliff and Claire snickering as I turned a shade of red I was afraid would leave a permanent sunburn on my face.

"Well, whatever the reason, I don't think any of us would object," Cliff said with a grin.

Sally gave me a funny look, as if she was trying to figure out what we were talking about.

"Tommy, what does it mean you want to use it in your portfolio?" she said as she looked at the case next to my chair.

I could only chuckle a bit. "Sally, portfolio is one of those funny words that have several meanings. This," I said, pointing at the case, "is one kind of portfolio, but it can also mean a collection a person uses to show off his or her work. So if it's okay with you, I'll be able to use a copy of your picture to show people the kind of work I can do."

"You mean you'd show other people my picture? Wow!"

"If it's okay with you."

"You bet! Wait until my friends hear about this!"

"Now, young lady, I don't want to hear you bragging," Cliff said, sternly.

"Aw, Daaadddd!"

"No. End of discussion."

I could almost see the gears turning in her head.

"You know, if I could tell my friends about Tommy's pictures, or maybe even bring them over and show them, I'll bet he could get a lot of jobs."

Cliff gave me a look I recognized. That what did I do to deserve this? look.

"Sally, no, and that's final."

The young girl sighed and turned to me. She didn't say anything, but it was obvious she was looking for some support. I just looked at her and slowly shook my head.

"Oh, all right," she grumped.

"Can you believe that little scamp?" We were driving home and Beth was talking about Sally. "I mean trying to get around her dad that way.

"I wonder what we'd do if our kids tried something like that?"

Oh, great, something else to worry about.

-------

The following Saturday we drove over to the civic center for the summer show auditions. They were doing Grease this year, and when Beth insisted that I wear my leather jacket I thought why not go all the way?—white t-shirt, jeans and engineer boots completed my "costume." This time I wasn't even going to argue about auditioning. Sometimes it was just easier to go with the flow.

We walked in and saw some familiar faces, mostly theatre board members who were running the auditions. "Hey, Beth, Tommy! You here to audition, Beth?"

"Yeah, and so is Tommy."

"You are?" Fran, one of the board members, asked.

"Yeah. I figured I'd probably get talked into it anyway, so why not just do it."

"Well, at least if you get cast we won't have to worry about a costume," Fran laughed, pointing to my outfit.

We signed in, got our numbers, and spent some time talking to the other hopefuls.

Eventually, our numbers were called and we had our chance to sing and strut our stuff before Dan, the director, and the rest of the staff.

The following Friday we got the call—Beth was going to play Sandy and I got cast as Danny, one of the other leads. It was going to make for an interesting summer.

-------

That Sunday we were sitting around the dining-room table for our normal rotating family dinner. It was Bev and Chuck's turn as hosts and Bev had just brought out the coffee when Dad grinned at my lady.

"So I hear you're defecting?" he said, obviously referring to her choice of summer jobs.

"Yeah, I am. I figured I should experiment a little before I settle down."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth, then she remembered the afternoon at the farm and a blanket shared with Cindy and Greg. I could see the red creeping up her throat. That's when I heard a smothered giggle. A quick glance at Gail showed a little blush, too. Apparently Beth had been telling tales again and I thought back to that afternoon and the way our ladies had decided to share Greg and me.

That Beth had obviously confided in Gail reminded me of something that had always confounded me about the opposite sex—I'll never understand why women see nothing wrong in discussing intimate details amongst themselves but would get seriously irked if they found out their men had "bragged" to friends about the same thing. Some things in life just aren't fair, I guess.

"I think Kevin has an announcement, too," Chuck said. I glanced at my brother, who looked as if he wanted to be somewhere else at the moment. Anywhere else.

"Um, well, I'm going to ... I mean Chuck and Bev have ... well, they offered me a job for the summer," he stammered.

My dad looked at Chuck and then at his younger son. "This doesn't have anything to do with all of those quiet conversations the two of you have had the last couple of Sundays, does it?"

"Well, yeah, I guess so," Kev replied.

"Kevin asked if we had a spot for the summer and it just so happened we do."

Dad looked at Chuck in an almost accusatory way.

"Before you ask, no, this isn't charity. Kev stopped over at the shop a while ago and asked for advice on a little project he was working on. I showed him how to use some of the equipment in the basement. He'd obviously been reading up on machine tools and had the basics of machine operation down, the theory, anyway. It only took a few pointers on my part and he was running that big Atlas mill like an expert. Well, as a talented apprentice, anyway.

"When he mentioned he was looking for a summer job, I told him we could use someone to help out and things just went from there."

So much for me telling him to check with the car wash. He wasn't going to be spending his summer in that hot tunnel like I had.

"So what will you be doing?" I asked Kev.

"Oh, a little bit of everything, I guess. I heard something mentioned about a broom."

After the chuckles died down, Chuck looked at my brother. "Oh, it won't be ALL sweeping. If you want to, we can probably find a bathroom or two to clean."

Damn, I didn't have a camera with me. The panicked look on Kev's face would have been a real keeper. One thing he and I agreed on—cleaning the bathroom was NOT our favorite chore.

"Seriously," Chuck continued, "we have a list of projects that should keep you busy for the summer."

-------

Gail and Kev's graduation was going to be a little different than our escape from high school. For one thing they were going to be able to sit together.

When they mentioned it to us I was surprised, I mean, we'd always had everyone ordered alphabetically, which would have put Hanson and Randahl far apart.

"So why the change?" I asked the two of them.

"Oh, I guess we made a big enough fuss that the front office storm troopers finally gave in—as long as they didn't have to re-sort the diplomas. A bunch of us spent a couple of Saturday afternoons getting them in the right order," Gail explained.

"What a job! First we had to get a list from everybody of who wanted to sit next to who, work out any conflicts, and then make sure the diplomas matched the list."

"Yeah," my brother added. "And then there were the idiots who changed their minds after we had everything done! There were some couples who split after they'd signed up and didn't want to sit next to each other anymore. Too bad, too late!"

"I wish we'd thought of doing that," Beth said. "Wait a minute! I wonder if Adams not being there any more had anything to do with getting them to let you change things around?"

"Hmm. I'll bet that was it," I said, remembering what a tight-assed martinet Adams had been and how he'd insisted on having things carefully ordered his way.

The day of graduation we got to the field early enough to get decent seats. The ceremony started and we sat through the required speeches, although I couldn't tell you what anyone talked about. I found myself drifting off in almost the same place as I'd zoned out during my own graduation. I'd learned a long time ago that ninety-nine-point-nine percent of all graduation speakers said the same thing, usually in the same way, so I spent the time people-watching and letting my mind wander.

Beth nudged me just in time to hear the kids'—oops, I mean Gail and Kev's— names announced and to watch them march up to get their diplomas. I'd brought both Nikon bodies—one with a 300 millimeter lens, the other with my short zoom lens. I grabbed the body with the long lens and started snapping as Kev took Gail's hand and walked up on stage and I got pictures of both of them receiving their diplomas. Gail's mom was sitting next to me and I could swear I heard a giant sigh of relief when Gail was handed her diploma. I grabbed the other camera and got a shot as she watched her daughter. Considering everything the two of them had been through, I guess any milestone was a big one.

After the ceremony my folks took all of us out for dinner at our favorite fancy restaurant. It was fun watching Gail and my brother in a high-end spot rather than one of their usual fast food places. Dad had asked for a private room when he made the reservation and the seven of us had an alcove to ourselves. After the waiter took our orders, I spent a few minutes getting pictures of everyone. Well, almost everyone.

"Okay, Tommy, your turn."

I looked up at my brother as he held out his hand, a huge grin plastered on his mug. He'd taken a photography class in school and I guess he'd decided it was my turn to be on the other side of the lens.

"Well," Dad said after we were seated, "I guess your little brother isn't so little any more, eh, Tommy?"

I had to agree—Kevin had grown up a lot in the last few years. He wasn't the pest he'd been when I'd first introduced him to Beth. After all, this fall he and Gail would be college kids.

-------

"Tommy, have you got anything going tonight?"

"No, why?"

It was the week after the kids' graduation and I was just sitting in the living room, trying to build up some enthusiasm for working on ideas for solving some difficult lighting problems.

"I was wondering if we could get my stuff for my trip."

"As long as you've got your credit cards, I'm game," I said, feeling only a little guilty for abandoning my project.

We drove out to one of the big sporting goods stores, or maybe warehouse would be a better description—the place was huge. If Beth couldn't find what she wanted there she was going to be out of luck.

Not to mention cold.

-------

"Can I help you?"

We'd barely set foot in the place before a salesman came up.

"I hope so. I'm going to be spending December, January, and February in Antarctica—at McMurdo station, and I'm looking for some appropriate clothing. Can you help us?"

"Hmm ... Antarctica, you say. You're going to need some heavy-duty stuff. Luckily, we've got all our winter gear on sale. You won't find better prices anywhere else!"

I took an instant dislike to this guy, but it was Beth's trip and her choice.

The sales guy took us back to the clothing area, pulled a fancy parka—fur lined hood and all— off the rack and started going on about how it was good for better than thirty below and yada, yada, yada. I tuned him out almost immediately. I didn't like the guy and besides, I wasn't the one who was headed south.

I looked at my lady and saw an expression that I recognized. Beth wasn't one to let anyone talk down to her and I could see she was about out of patience with this pushy oaf.

"I'm sorry," she said after a few minutes more of his drivel. "I don't see anything here I'm interested in. Come on, Tommy, let's go."

With that, she turned and started walking away, leaving Mr. Pushy standing there looking like someone had kneed him in the jewels. We almost made it to the car before Beth let go.

"Dammit, Tommy, can you believe that asshole?" I could almost see the steam from her ears. "He either doesn't have any idea what the weather is like down there or he was just trying to sell their most expensive stuff to some poor, dumb broad who doesn't know any better."

We ended up at another store where the salesman actually knew what he was talking about, and even more importantly, didn't try to over-sell Beth.

"You are a lucky young lady," he told Beth. "I was just reading an article about McMurdo, and you're in for quite an adventure. December, January, and February, huh? Well that's summer down there, so you won't need anything this heavy," he said as we walked down a row of parkas designed for the coldest weather.

"As I understand it, the temps at the station are more like they are here in late winter. It's kind of hard to believe it averages almost twenty above during the time you'll be down there. Of course things are a lot colder when you go inland."

Beth was grinning from ear to ear—this was someone who understood!

Twenty minutes later, and with an armful of new duds, we decided it was time to eat and I drove to the Pizza Palace. Janine met us at the door and led us back to the snuggle booth.

"Tommy, you just missed your brother. It looks like he and Gail are getting along pretty well," she grinned. "Almost as good as you two," she said with a wink as she walked off to get our drinks.

Our pizza showed up and we both dug in. Onions, of course, but it's amazing what love can accustom one to.

Saturday I decided it was time to visit Joe at the photo shop. The adapters were selling well, and it looked like it was time to call Todd and get another run scheduled.



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Chapter 22


"See you tonight, Tommy!"

That, and a quick kiss on my ear, was Beth's way of telling me she was leaving for work. Since I didn't have anything on tap that morning, I just mumbled something endearing, rolled over, and was gone for another couple of hours.

I don't consider myself a chauvinist of any sort, but I WILL admit the first couple of times Beth had to climb out of bed to get to work while I could snooze for a bit longer did give me a little twinge of guilt, but then the thought of the number of late nights I spent slaving over Photoshop while my lady snored quietly, snuggled in our bed, quickly eased the guilt. Now it was just our usual routine.

Beth's summer job was across town, so she wouldn't get home until about six. That meant dinner was my responsibility. See? No chauvinists here.

Of course, there were those nights when preparing dinner meant that I had to drive to the Palace, or whichever restaurant we chose, but still...

Once I rolled out of bed and cleaned up for the day my first chore was checking my email. Ever since I'd added my email address and the URL for my web site to my fliers I'd found a substantial portion of my work came my way electronically, almost as much as I got from referrals. That morning—nothing but a few pieces of spam that had sneaked past the filters.

Right at six my lady charged in the door. "Tommy, it's the Palace for dinner, let's go."

I knew that tone meant I shouldn't ask any questions. At least not until I was moving.

As we drove west Beth didn't say much, just sat there, fuming. Something must have really gone wrong at work. Janine greeted us at the door and, being the sensitive hostess she is, immediately recognized Beth's mood and quietly led us to our booth.

She'd brought our Cokes and taken our order before Beth loosened up and let fly. Apparently someone had made a few disparaging remarks about an idea she'd had and my lady had taken them as a personal attack.

By the time she stopped to take a breath she was well into language that would have most sailors looking for a dictionary, but what was most scary was that her voice never rose. It was downright spooky—listening to this non-stop string of invective delivered in a total monotone.

By the time she ran down our pizza had arrived—with onions, this was no time to quibble over food preferences.

"Beth, isn't this the same guy you've had trouble with almost since day one?"

"Yeah, Henry. That—"

And she was off again.

I was halfway through my second slice before I had a chance to say anything else.

"Beth, what was your idea and why did they say it wouldn't work?"

"It's so damn simple. We do it all the time at my folks' shop. You just have to edit the g-code so..."

I love my lady dearly, but when an engineer, or even an engineer-wannabe, says something is simple, I start looking around for a seatbelt. On top of that, as soon as she said g-code, my thoughts went to "g-string," which had my mind wandering back to memories of our first Saturday together and those lacy white panties she bought on our first shopping trip. The ones that had led to everything else that weekend.

Suddenly my jeans were getting tight and I never did catch the rest of her explanation. Not that I would have understood it anyway. I mean, I could—barely—maneuver the big, old manual Atlas mill in the shop's basement, but I'd never even tried to understand the big numeric control machines on the main shop floor, or the programming that ran them.

Eventually she ran out of steam and settled in to eat what was left of the pizza.

That night I had to resort to one of my special backrubs to get her to settle down, and I began to wonder if her new job was such a good idea. Eventually my princess drifted off, leaving me to spend most of the night wondering if I'd ever be able to roll over again without damaging myself. Those "special" rubs can get a little intense.

The next afternoon I was in the driveway, washing my Jeep, when Greg got home. He was working for his father again, restoring another of the duplexes in the neighborhood. Listening to him talk about what they found in the old house brought back memories of our experiences when we moved into this place.

"Tommy, could I talk you into taking some pictures of what we're doing?"

I bit down on my tongue as I thought of Greg and Cindy together.

"You're talking about the rehab of the duplex, right?"

The penny dropped and Greg punched me in the arm. "Yeah, you dirty old man."

"Me? I'm not old!"

"Tommy, I'm serious. Dad asked about getting some pictures of our work."

"Okay, I'll be serious. I've got jobs the next couple of days, but after that I should have some time."

"Um, how much do you charge for stuff like that?"

"Hang on for a sec," I said as I dug through all the stuff in the glove compartment of the Jeep. "I should have a price list in here ... somewhere."

I remembered the last time I did pictures for Greg and wasn't going to make the same mistake of trying to offer him a special price. I'd stepped on his pride once and didn't want to do it again!

"Here," I said, handing him a copy of my list. "Show your dad the list and let me know what and when.

"By the way, how are you, Cindy, and John doing? We haven't seen much of you lately."

"Great! Cindy's back at the drug store and her mom is taking care of John. She grumbled when Cindy first suggested the deal, but you should have heard her howl when we said we'd find someone else."

Beth got home from work and we had just enough time to grab a quick bite before running to the theatre for rehearsal.

The first rehearsal was the usual administrivia—filling out bio forms for the program, going through how the theatre operated for all those who hadn't worked with this group before, explaining what was where, introducing the staff—all the stuff that keeps everyone on the same page.

Speaking of pages...

Dan, the director, got up, talked for a few minutes about the show and introduced the rest of the production staff, then looked over the cast.

"I notice some of you came equipped with your own copy of the script. Well, you can put them back on your bookshelves." He held up a folder. "Since there're at least four versions of Grease out there, and a show just seems to run smoother if everyone is on the same page, so to speak—" He waited until the chuckles died down. "We'll give everyone a copy that we want you to use for this production."

I had done some web surfing and found that the original show was pretty raunchy—oh, not Hair or Oh, Calcutta raunchy, but not something you'd want to bring the kids to. The later versions ran from that to a totally G-rated version adapted for middle school productions. And then there was the movie script ... Anyway, I could see where letting everyone use their own script would be a nightmare.

Eventually all the paperwork, reminders that we were in a city park so behave yourself—this to some of the teens—and all the other bureaucratic stuff was over and we got through a quick read-through. All in all, a normal first rehearsal.

"Tommy, I'm glad to see you're back! Accepted the inevitable, eh?"

Beth and I were getting reacquainted with the cast members we'd worked with before when Dan came up.

"Yeah, I figured I might as well give in," I replied with a grin.

"Of course, you realize this isn't going to get you out of a few set-building Saturdays..."

Community theatres all over had grappled with the us-vs.-them attitude forever. It seemed most actors felt working on sets and costumes was beneath them, and the stage crews often felt that the actors were prissy prima donas ... well, let's just say there was sometimes a little friction between the factions. And here I was, with a foot in each camp.

As we walked back to the Jeep I looked over at my princess. "So are you excited enough for a trip to the farm?" I asked with just a little leer.

"That sounds good!" she replied. "A dip in a nice, cool pond after a hot rehearsal would feel great."

That wasn't the type of dip I was thinking of, but one step at a time, I guess.

When we got to the farm I got out, opened the gate and drove through. When I got out to close the gate behind us, I saw Beth reaching for the hem of her cropped t-shirt. By the time I got back in the Jeep my lady had pulled her shirt off and was leaning forward to unhook her bra.

There's got to be some sensual connection between theatre and the farm,  I thought as I pulled into our regular spot. By then Beth's shorts and panties were sliding down her long legs and my shorts were getting very tight.

Beth jumped out of the Jeep, grabbed the ever-present blanket from the back, and spread it out on the grass. By the time I got my door open so were her legs and the look I'd seen so often warned me I'd better get over there.

I tripped trying to pull my shorts off while I maneuvered around the Jeep. I lost my battle with gravity and landed on the blanket, face-down between Beth's beautiful thighs.

"About time you got here," she said in a throaty whisper, as she pulled my face to her. I managed only two or three quick licks before her bottom came off the blanket and she announced to all the local wildlife how much she was enjoying herself.

As soon as her concert was over she flipped me over and climbed aboard my hips. It didn't take too long before I was adding a counterpoint to her chorus.

As we lay on the blanket trying to catch our breaths an odd thought flitted through my mind—if we kept up like this, the blanket was going to be due for a good cleaning. Just like the first one.

I must have drifted off for a few minutes because the next thing I was aware of was a hand gently stroking me in a way guaranteed to get my attention. I looked up and saw an absolutely beautiful sight. In the light of the full moon I saw my lady's beautiful face looking back at me.

"Hello, my prince," she said.

"And hello to you, too, my princess," I replied as I reached up to caress one of her breasts. I felt her nipple stiffen in my palm and her caress took on an urgency that soon had me nudging her onto her back and slipping into Nirvana again.

After we had both exploded Beth looked at me. "Tommy, does a moonlight swim sound good?"

Silly girl, asking a question with such an obvious answer. I got to my feet, bent down, picked her up, and walked toward the pond. The trip was more of a leisurely stroll as opposed to our usual quick dash. Something about the moonlight hiding all the obstacles along the way. Since I had my most valuable cargo in my arms I wasn't going to take any chances, and I definitely didn't want to stick a foot in a gopher hole and break anything.

I walked into the water and felt Beth tighten up in my arms. I figured she was waiting for me to drop her in the water, but I wasn't about to break the mood. I gently deposited her on her feet and pulled her into a tight hug.

We must have stood there, hip-deep in the pond, for longer than we thought.

"Beth, turn around slowly and look at the shore," I whispered as I slowly released her. Standing at the water's edge was a deer, cautiously looking around before lowering his head to the water.

"Oh, Tommy, how beautiful," she whispered.

We stood there until the deer was done drinking and had wandered back into the woods surrounding the pond.

"Could you believe that?" Beth said quietly, almost as if she didn't want to break the spell.

Eventually we finished cleaning each other—a process that took quite a while—and walked back to the Jeep. I tossed Bath a towel from what she called my summer survival kit, grabbed a second one and "helped" my lady dry off. Her return of the favor almost had us on the blanket again.

As we dressed Beth couldn't stop talking about our encounter with the deer.

"I hope no hunters ever learn your secret," I said as we loaded the Jeep and drove back into town.

"My secret?" she asked.

"Yeah, I love your animal call, but I doubt it would be very practical for general use."

Damn elbow.

-------

I was looking at the biggest machine I'd ever seen.

The week before I'd received an e-mail from a local company that made parts for Caterpillar-style earth-moving equipment. Jim Moore had referred me to them and I'd have to remember to call and thank him. I didn't know if it was normal to get most business through referrals but I wasn't going to complain.

Chet, the technician who was showing me the facility, stood next to me as I watched a plasma cutter with a bed that had to be five by ten feet.

"Chet, this is an amazing machine. Please tell me this is one that you want me to photograph."

"Yeah, it is. My boss asked if you could somehow get a picture that shows it moving. Only he doesn't want a movie or video or anything like that. How can you do that? CAN you do that?"

As I watched the head move over the part it was cutting I got an idea that had me digging in my camera bag, checking to see if I had my set of neutral density filters.

"I think so. Let me get my tripod and we'll see."

I set up my tripod, mounted the camera and added a filter to knock down the effective film speed by ten stops. That would give me almost a twenty second exposure. A couple of test shots and a few adjustments and I was ready for a final series of shots. Chet set up a cut that would give me plenty of motion and started the machine. I tripped the shutter and stepped away from the tripod, not wanting to bump anything.

I was able to get three shots before the cutter finished the part. I had the strobe I normally mounted on the camera in my hand and triggered it half way through one of the long exposures just to see if it would give a little more definition to the body of the cutter. Compared to the arc, the rest of the room looked pretty gloomy.

I was checking the results and Chet came up and looked over my shoulder as I previewed the images. As I'd hoped, the filter allowed the long exposure without over-exposing the total image. It also cut the brightness of the plasma to the point where you could see the stream instead of just a bright spot blotting out half the picture—just a nice, bright path along the cut line. The image where I'd used the strobe was probably the best of the three. I'd have to see it on the big monitor at home to be sure.

"Damn, Tommy, I think that's exactly what the boss wants. Can we take the camera up and show him?"

"I'd rather not. If you think this is what he's looking for, why don't you give me a couple of days to clean them up a little. Then I'll e-mail them to you. That way you can show them to him on something bigger than this little screen."

"Oh, yeah, I guess that would be better. Just give me a call to make sure I check my e-mail?"

"No problem," I replied.

-------

I pulled into the driveway and was surprised to see Beth's Jeep parked there. Was I running that late? No, a quick check of my watch told me I was on time and she was almost two hours early. So what was she doing home?. Playing hooky? Did she get fired?

"Hi, Tommy! Surprised to see me?" she said as she skipped up and kissed me.

"Um, yeah. Want are you doing home already?"

"I talked my boss into changing my hours. Turns out he's a theatre freak, too, so it really didn't take much, just a promise to get him a couple of tickets for the show."

"Ah, Beth, did you tell him the show is free?"

"Oops," she said with a giggle.

We decided to make a quick stop at one of the many fast-food places that dotted the campus area and fed our faces on the way to the theatre.

That night's rehearsal was pretty much like all the others—Jean, the music director for the show, took us through a couple of the songs, pointing out how they should be done. Beth and I had done a little rehearsing on our own, singing our duets around the house. I'm sure anyone walking by would have wondered at hearing Summer Nights or All Choked Up issuing from the open windows.

We won't talk about my solos in the shower.

-------

The next morning I got right to work on the pictures from the day before. I was excited to see the plasma shots on my big monitor. They looked good yesterday but I'd tripped myself up before, assuming the tiny image on the camera was really any good. Surprisingly, all three looked great. The plasma arc tracing a winding path as it cut through the steel reminded me of time exposures of lava running down the side of a volcano. I'd been right about using the strobe, too. That shot showed parts of the machine that were in deep shadows in the other images. A little touching up with Photoshop and I was happy.

It was Friday night and we had no rehearsal so I'd made reservations at our favorite nice restaurant. When Beth got home from work she jumped in for a quick shower—by herself to make sure it was a quick shower—and then we were on our way. I'd been thinking about a nice, thick steak all afternoon and I was happy to make it across town without drooling on the steering wheel.

"How are things at work? Still having problems with Henry?" I figured being in a nice place would minimize the chances of having my lady explode.

"Oh, I guess I'm getting used to him. Everybody else is nice enough, and I'm learning to ignore Henry. It's funny, but the more I think about him, the more he reminds me of Jason from high school, just without the money."

With a description like that I hoped he never pushed my lady too far or he'd find out how to sing soprano just like Jason had.

When we were seated Beth didn't even bother to pick up the menu, she knew what she wanted—she was going fishing. After we ordered she jumped up and walked out to the trout stream that ran through the patio to catch her dinner. I thought back to our prom dinner here with Greg and Cindy and how much both ladies had enjoyed fishing for their meal.

After she caught her dinner and passed it to the server she came back and sat down.

"Tommy, why do they call a fancy place like this a café?"

"I don't know. My dad said it opened as a small bar and café around the time Prohibition ended. I guess they just decided to drop the Bar from the name for some reason."

Our server brought our meals and I decided to ask.

"It's funny," she said with a chuckle. "I get that question a lot and I really don't know. Nobody seems to know for sure, but the general feeling is that once the place got known for the food the original owners figured it wasn't necessary to remind anyone we even had a bar."

"Well, whatever the reason I'm awfully glad it's here," Beth said with a grin as she dug into her trout. I wasn't going to argue as I cut into my steak. Conversation from then on was limited to appropriate mumbles over our great meals.

Monday afternoon I got a call from Chet. I'd e-mailed him proof copies of our day's work over the weekend and I didn't expect a reply so quickly.

"Tommy, these are great! My boss was amazed, especially the shot of the plasma cutter. You're going to have to explain how you did that one, we can't figure it out."

"It's just using a filter to extend the exposure time and the strobe to lighten the shadows," I told him.

"Uh ... okay, if you say so," he replied.

I finished up with Chet and started working on the images he—and his boss—wanted. I spent a lot of time with the plasma pic. The time exposure with the strobe fill meant the body of the cutter appeared close to what it looked like normally, with just a little flare from the arc, and the sparks it created, to give an idea of the heat and power involved.

By the time my princess got home I had most of the work done and was more than ready for a break before we had to get to the theatre for rehearsal.

-------

The next morning I didn't have a chance to sleep in. I'd agreed to meet Greg and his dad at the duplex they were working on.

"Hi, Tommy. Good to see you again!" Bill said when I walked up.

"Hi, Bill. So I hear you want some pictures."

"Yeah, so I've been told," he said, grinning at his son. Greg tried to return an innocent look but my friend wasn't any better at it than I am.

From the outside this duplex looked identical to ours—two stories, each with a large screened porch running the whole width of the house. Six steps up to a side door for the first floor and a rear door at ground level took care of the entrances. All-in-all a pretty common design used extensively in this part of town.

I started shooting from all sides of the exterior, including close-ups of the repairs they'd done to the exterior woodwork and the new, energy-efficient windows, as well as interior pictures of both floors, the basement—or cellar I suppose I should call it—and the attic, which was just like ours, except they didn't have a room at the front.

It was obvious that Bill and his crew had put a lot of work into the place and I hoped for their sakes they would be able to find a buyer or a couple of renters. Greg hadn't said what their plans were once they got the whole place finished.

"So, what do you think of Dad's work?" Greg asked as we walked out to the Jeep.

"Looks pretty good. Whoever gets to move in is going to have a nice place to live."

"I hope so, because it's going to be Cindy, John and I. Looks like we'll be moving just before school starts."


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To Be Continued...
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Posted:  2011-02-21
Last Modified: 2013-01-22 / 02:51:38 pm
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