The Story of Jack

A NaNoWriMo Novel

By

Steve Mount




Dedication

To my wife and family, for putting up with me for two weeks while I seemed to
do nothing but sit with a laptop on my lap, typing away like there was no
tomorrow.




Chapter 1.

Jack didn't know if he should laugh or cry as he pulled away from his house.
Well, what used to be his house. He looked quickly at everything as he stopped
backing out of the driveway: the apple trees so lovingly planted; the gardens
enthusiastically planned and reluctantly tended; the grass just a little too
long for this time of year, but still amazingly green despite the patchy layer
of autumnal detritus. There were, of course, things he would not miss, things
he was glad to leave to the new owners: the moles that dug up the lawn and
which he blamed for the rotted fence posts; the dug-out holes left by the
neighborhood skunk; the scraggly, prickly pine bush that should have grown into
a tree by now.

Ten long and happy years he had spent in this house, and he regretted very
little of that time. There had been parties and birthdays and Halloween
decorations and Christmas lights and construction workers and repair crews. All
the things that owning a house entails he had endured or enjoyed - sometimes
both. But time, it has been said once or twice, waits for no man. The family
grew, and then it outgrew this house. It was time to move on.

He checked the rear-view mirror and bid a silent adieu to the neighbor across
the street - he'd never gotten to know him. He glanced at the stand of pine
trees behind the house and watched for a brief moment as they swayed in the
gentle, cool breeze. He looked right to the neighbors that his wife had come to
know so well, the veterans of the neighborhood, the long-timers. He looked left
at the other neighbor house, once occupied by a vibrant couple, but now by just
the husband, his wife long since returned to her family after an amicable
divorce. He stared, just for a second, at the garage door as it gently lowered
itself into place.

An outside observer would have watched Jack and seen someone pulling out of his
driveway and pausing only for an unexplained extra two or three seconds. That
was all it took to take in all the memories he thought he would need to
remember the feeling of this house. Really, the outside was not where he felt
at home - it had been inside, in the living room or kitchen or one of the kid's
bedrooms where he had felt at peace. Now that the papers were signed and this
house was no longer his home, but that of some other family, his memories of
the warmth inside were all he had to hold onto.

He glanced quickly up and down the road before pulling out for the last time.
He slipped the SUV in gear and started driving away, watching the house as it
drifted off behind him. He felt a tear well up in his eye, then his vision
blurred as both eyes moistened. He had done all of his crying already, or so he
thought, but now, doing this final thing, this drive away from his ten-year
home, pushed emotions back to the fore. He held them back as he pulled up to
the traffic light and waited behind a dump truck. He sniffled, wiped at his
eyes, and took a deep breath.

"Move on," he said out loud, to himself. He glanced into the rear-view mirror
and saw the top edge of his suit case, which held enough clothes to get him by,
he hoped, for at least a week at a time. He saw the upper curve of his skating
helmet and wondered once again why he bothered to bring it - he had not used
his Rollerblades in almost two years, why would he start now? He saw another
car sitting behind him waiting for the light, too - and he saw the driver reach
up for his horn and tap it to tell him the light had turned green.

He reached up and gave an "I'm sorry" wave and accelerated through the
intersection. He played back the last conversation he had had with his real
estate agent: "Your new house may be big, but it is everything you planned for.
It will be done soon, don't worry," he said. Then the one before: "I can ask if
they will back out, but if they want the house, they can sue you to get it."
And the one before that: "I'm so sorry, but we have to schedule the closing
anyway."

Jack sighed and drove down the main road from his former home in the suburbs
into the small city. He passed the Dunkin Donuts, one of the kids' favorites;
the McDonald's, one of his favorites; Jade Palace, one of his wife's favorites.
He passed the mall, the movie theater, the stand of hotels, the interstate, and
the state university. He took a few lefts, a few rights, and pulled up to the
hotel lobby.

He parked and shut off the SUV and went inside. "Checking in," he said as he
slid his credit card to the agent at the desk. She took the card, glanced at
the name, and found him in her computer.

"It says here you will be staying for four nights, is that right?"

"Yes," he said lazily. That's as far as his plans went for the moment.

"Just you, sir?"

"Yes."

"Here is your key, room 423, non-smoking, queen size bed. The key for the bar
is in the room, call us if you want to block any of the Pay-per-view channels
on the TV. We have a continental breakfast each morning here in the lobby, and
a newspaper will be delivered to your door each morning." She slid his credit
card and key card to him. "Enjoy your stay," she said, smiling a fake hotel
clerk smile.

"Thank you," he mumbled and walked back to the SUV. He drove around and parked
near a side entrance. He walked in, went up the stairs to the fourth floor, the
top floor, and found his room. He slid the key card in the lock, waited for the
green light, and went in. He left his suitcase by foot of the bed and his
jacket draped over the desk chair. He went into the bathroom and avoided
looking at himself as he used the toilet. He almost walked by the sink and
remembered his wife's admonishments about forgetting to wash his hands. After
he dried them, he went into the room, laid down on the bed, and stared at the
ceiling.

In the silence, he began to see images in the dotted ceiling tiles: His wife on
a beach; his daughter at a ballet recital; his son getting his first communion,
his other son in a pirate costume for Halloween. He sighed and rubbed his
temples and pushed his shoes off his feet. He decided to take a quick nap, even
though it was only four in the afternoon and he had enough time to return to
work to wrap up the day. But he no longer felt up to it. As he started to drift
off, he whispered into the empty room, "I miss you guys."


Chapter 2.

"Housekeeping. Hello?"

Jack awoke to the click of the door opening - he looked around the room and
realized he'd slept through the night, through dinner time and breakfast time,
and now the maid service was coming through, since he never put out a Do Not
Disturb sign.

He shot up in the bed, the covers barely mussed, and looked to the door. He saw
a young Hispanic-looking woman peeking in and give him a surprised look as she
spotted him. "Sorry, sir," she said.

"It's OK," Jack called. "I'll put out the sign when I'm done in here." He
watched as the young woman pulled her head back out of the doorway and heard
the lock click as she closed the door. "Damn," he said as he rubbed his face.
The events of the past day took more out of him than he thought they would. It
had been the end of a long few weeks, the end of a long cycle to sell and close
on the house. Lawyers - their bread and butter is pushing papers in front of
people to sign, and he did more than his share of signing. Deeds, HUD
statements, financial documents, checks, all manner of paper. He didn't think
it was tiring, but it must have been. Of course, the buyer had to sign a lot
more than he did - tax documents, loan papers, promissory notes. Jack could
swear he saw one form saying that the buyer promised to lease out his wife and
sell his kids to the highest bidder. At least, the papers could have said that
- the lawyer would say "this just says you'll pay back the loan," and had the
buyer sign a paper dense with text that he didn't read and probably would never
look at again.

Jack stood up and looked out the window. It was a bright Saturday, the sun was
shining and only a few cotton ball clouds dotted the sky. He watched for a
moment as a small V of geese flew by. He imagined their honks as they vied for
the vanguard spot. As they faded from view, he turned and headed for the
bathroom. He grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste from his bag and scrubbed
his teeth, washing the stink of ten hours down the drain. Then he took off all
of his clothes and stepped to the shower. He fiddled with the controls for a
moment - the controls for a shower should be so simple, he always thought: a
knob to control temperature and a level to turn it from bath to shower. Yet
every time he stood in front of an unfamiliar plumbing setup, it was almost as
if he had to relearn everything. This one was not as bad as some others,
though, and he quickly found the lukewarm spot on the dial that he liked. He
pulled the lever and waited for a few seconds for the cold water to flush out
and for the steam to begin to rise.

He stepped in and pulled the flimsy cloth shower curtain closed. He knew that
many hotels didn't use plastic because they were too hard to clean well, but he
always marveled at the fabric that felt like sheer chiffon but still kept most
of the water from getting onto the floor. He moved under the shower head, and
let the warm water flow over him. This was always a time for him to relax. He
did some of his best thinking in the shower, with the water beating down on his
back. Typically, his mind wandered off.

Jack didn't usually remember his dreams, but as he saw the image of his young
daughter form in his head, he had a feeling that he had seen this before. But
it had not been in real life - she was graduating from high school, or maybe
college. The ten-year-old certainly hadn't done that yet. He watched as she
walked up the stairs to the stage and then strolled across the floor. He saw
the university crest behind her - ah, this is college, then. She stopped in
front of a professor or dean and shook her hand, then was handed a diploma by
another robed figure. She walked off and smiled into the crowd - smiled at him.
He smiled through the torrent of water and stepped back. He opened his eyes and
reached for the mini-bottle of shampoo and lathered up his hair. Then he
released the soap from its paper wrapping and lathered up his body. He went
down his arms with the bar, then over his chest, then bent down to wash to his
legs. As he rose and moved the soap to his groin, he closed his eyes.

He slid the bar between his legs. "I'll wash your package," he remembered his
wife saying playfully and suddenly she was in his mind, standing in front of
him in the shower, a big bar of soap in her hand. He imagined her doing an
exaggerated shiver to indicate that the water was too cold and he reached back
to turn it up to where she liked it. Then he stepped around her, switching
places so that she could have the water. He watched as the water cascaded over
her shoulders, slipped over her breasts, and dripped over her belly. She
reached her soapy hands over to him and washed his shoulders, then slid down
his back to his ass, where she gave him a playful grab.

Jack opened his eyes again and moved back under the water - there was a slight
chilly draft coming in through the bathroom door. He looked down and saw a
half-erection already subsiding and moved around under the water to rinse all
the suds off of him. He held his head under the water and scrubbed his hair
lightly to get all the shampoo out.

After lingering for a few moments, he shut off the water and stepped out. He
grabbed a scratchy white towel from the rack and dried himself off. He felt his
chin and decided to shave. It had been several days and the wife and kids don't
like it when he gets too stubbly. After he slipped on a pair of underwear, he
pulled out his razor and shaving gel. He squirted a small dollop onto his
fingers and rubbed it into a lather.

"How does it do that?" he heard one of his sons say. He watched in his mind's
eye again as he applied the white foam to his face, and rubbed the remaining
streaks of blue gel into more lather.

"I'm not really sure," Jack heard himself say. "Something technical,
scientific. You can teach me about it when you go to college." He looked down
at his son's face as he watched Jack spread the foam over his cheeks and chin.
As he picked up the razor, his son said, "Can't that cut you?"

"Yes, you have to be careful. When the time comes, I'll teach you." As he
shaved, he divided his attention between his face and his son's face - his son
was making faces like he was, stretching out his jaw to pull the skin taught
over his chin, then over his cheeks. Jack laughed.

He opened his eyes and saw the one streak of white over one cheek. He quickly
finished lathering up and scraped away the foam and hair beneath it. He rinsed
off the excess and got dressed: jeans, white socks, t-shirt. He grabbed his
jacket and looked back into the room.

He saw two kids jumping on the bed - both sons this time and he closed his eyes
once more. "Guys, what have I said about that? There might be people under us
who can hear you! Stop!" They both landed on their butts and giggled to each
other. "Dad," one said, "it's not like they can arrest us or anything!" His
twin brother giggled at what he found to be a very funny joke. They had often
talked about "appropriate punishments", and Jack had told them that while going
to jail for a week for speeding was not appropriate, losing a Gameboy for a
weekend for playing instead of sleeping was.

"No, they won't arrest you," Jack said in retort, "but they could tickle you
until you say 'Uncle!'" Jack watched as he rushed to his son and grabbed his
belly and tickled him until he was laughing hard and his brother was calling
"Tickle me, tickle me!" He opened his eyes, grabbed the "Housekeeping" sign off
the door knob, and hung it on the outside as he walked out.

The kids would have loved this hotel, he thought as he walked down the stairs
to his SUV.


Chapter 3.

Jack slid into his SUV and started it up. He hit a button and the window rolled
itself down. It was 52 degrees, or so the car said. Since it was also sunny,
Jack figured on taking advantage of the warmish weather as long as he could -
the temperature in Vermont might not reach this high again until March or
April, so you had to take it while you could get it. He started the SUV and
heard it beep to remind him to buckle his seatbelt.

He looked behind to prepare to back out, then looked down to the dash and saw
his cell phone. He'd left it in the car overnight - not by design, but as he
picked it up he was glad he had - it said he had voice mail and nine missed
messages. He put the SUV in park and opened the phone to dial his voice mail
number, but as he did, it rang. The old-fashioned telephone ring tone he liked
echoed through the interior of the car. He liked the tone because it cut
through almost all other noise. He liked to listen to NPR or talk radio turned
up loud, or to his myriad mix CDs, turned up loud, and the tone could even be
heard while Pink screamed about God being a DJ.

The display showed just "Kate". He pushed the green button and said, "Hi."

"Hey stranger," Kate said. "People have been trying to reach you. Where are
you?"

Jack's sister was a decade younger than he was, and so they had not always been
close. He had moved out of the house to get married when she was still in
elementary school. But over the past couple of years, as she graduated from
college and got on with her career, they had grown closer. He remembered
writing her a letter when she graduated from graduate school with her degree in
psychology. She was living in another state, and they had communicated by
email, using the mails just for funny birthday cards and for sparkly Christmas
cards. Jack figured a hand-written note would mean a lot, especially since he
hardly ever hand-wrote anything any more. She had called him the day she got it
and thanked him for it, and then said she had some news she thought he'd like:
she was moving back home. She'd gotten an offer to become a part of a practice
that a friend of a friend was opening, and she decided she'd rather do than
teach, which had been her original plan. They'd grown even closer since she'd
gotten back.

"I'm at a hotel. I was just about to leave," he said.

"Jack! Mom is going to be so pissed off at you. How many times did she say you
had to stay with her and dad?"

"I know, and I might end up there - I only reserved a few nights. I needed some
alone time."

Kate sighed and he could imagine her face, full of sisterly concern and
sisterly admiration. "You could talk to me, Jack. I talk to couples split up by
divorce all the time..."

"This isn't the same, and you know it, Kate," he snapped. He sighed back at her
and said, "Sorry, I know you're just trying to help. I'm fine."

"Are you?"

"Yes, I'm fine," he repeated. "I'm just going to have some alone time and then
I'll see everyone."

"Tell me how you're really doing, Jack."

"Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not a patient on your couch. Don't use your magic psychological tricks on
me."

"I don't use a couch, Jack - and I can't help it. I worry about you."

"I know you do," he said in a tone that he hoped would convey that he really
did know, but also that he was ready to get off the phone. "I'll see you soon,"
he added, to lend true finality to his tone.

"Alright, I'll let you go for now. You will talk to me eventually, though. You
can't avoid it forever."

"I love you, too, Kate."

They said their goodbyes and he closed the phone. He gripped the steering wheel
with both hands and felt the low hum and vibration of the engine through the
column. He tried to guess who else had called: Kate a couple of times
certainly, mom at least a couple. He decided to wait to find out and heard his
wife: "Just call them back. He's your brother. Are you scared of your brother?"

"Of course not ... I just don't feel like talking to him right now."

His brother had left a message on the answering machine, typically cryptic:
"Jack, pick up. Jack. OK, fine, Jack, it's Ben. Call me." That was all, he
might have wanted to play poker or he might have wanted to tell Jack about his
latest investment scheme. You could never tell. He put off calling Ben back.
Then the whole world changed and it was too late. Jack shook the thoughts away
and finally slipped the SUV into reverse. He'd check the other calls and his
messages later. He had places to be.


Chapter 4.

Jack drove up to the new home site, the site of all of his and his wife's hopes
and dreams, as expressed in wood, concrete, and metal. And now, as he saw, by
vinyl. The siding was going up. He had not gone to the site yesterday, too much
else to do. Plus he found that since Standard Time had started up again, it was
too dark after work, so even if he had come here instead of falling asleep, he
might not even have noticed the new siding. He smiled up at it - it was just
the color he and his wife had wanted. They had been a little scared it would
not look the same up on the walls as it had in the small swatch they had looked
at to choose. But it was perfect.

Jack swallowed the last of the pair of donuts he'd bought on a trip to the
quick stop, and washed it down with a large gulp of not-quite hot coffee. He
placed the cup in the cup holder, opened the door, and got out. He swept grains
of sugar from his hands and then from his jacket. He walked across the road and
up the driveway, carefully avoiding the large puddles of mud. The clay the
house was built on did not allow water to seep through very quickly, and these
puddles were the leftovers from a rainy day almost five days ago. He plodded up
the gravel to the garage, where he left large, muddy footprints among the
dozens of others. Workers had been working hard to finish the house on time. He
had been able to see small footprints among the large ones last week, those of
his kids, but they had been covered with the marks of continuing activity. Jack
climbed the short flight of stairs into the kitchen and gazed around at the
walls. They were full of yellow insulation along the outside walls, and a
smattering of pink insulation in the inside walls. Blue boxes dotted the brown
studs. White, blue, pink, and black wires snaked through the insulation,
through the studs, up and down through the plywood decking and thick joists.
White drywall had been installed on the ceilings where it could go up quickly
in one piece. Greenish-blue drywall was up in the bathroom. Drywall dust was
everywhere, though he knew it would get worse when they taped and mudded the
seams.

He walked into the family room, where the whole family could have a seat in
front of the TV, or where Jack's entire extended family could gather to watch a
football game or hold a party, or where his family-in-law could all gather to
enjoy each others' company while a Thanksgiving turkey cooked.

He imagined his kids seated on the leather couch across the room from a brand
new flat-screen LCD TV. He walked in front of them and smiled. The boys stared
through him and his daughter frowned at him. "Daddy, I can't see," she said.
"Well, excuse me!" Jack said, taking mock exception to her admonishment. He
moved and she said "Thank you!", pixie-like as her gaze followed him and then
shot back to the screen.

He walked through the dust to the foyer and looked into his office. He imagined
his computer desk in one corner with all the blinkenlights illuminating the
room. His wife's craft table was on the other side, with a grand view of the
front yard, and the street beyond, and the woods beyond that. He saw a Star
Trek calendar hanging by his desk. In it are images of Orion slave girls from
various versions of the show over the years. One has herself wrapped around
Captain Christopher Pike, another in a holodeck program from Deep Space Nine,
and a trio surrounding Captain Jonathan Archer. He feels his daughter standing
next to him and saying, "Who are those green ladies?"

"They're Orion slave girls."

"Oh. Why are they green?"

"They're from Orion, that's why," he says, as though that explains everything.

"Oh. That's stupid," she says, in a typical pre-teen way.

"It's a Star Trek thing," Jack says.

"Maybe I'll be a green slave girl for Halloween," she says, getting closer and
looking at the most scantily clad of all of the girls. She is busty and
overexposed, and perfect in every way. "Uh, I don't think so. I thought you
wanted to be a princess like from that movie you like."

"Anastasia, dad."

She walks out and the calendar fades to a stud, the desk to yellow fiberglass.

He turns and walks up the stairs to the second floor. Here the rainbow of
colors is more subdued. The drywall is almost all finished, so only a few
exposed wires, copper plumbing, and the edges of blue boxes can be seen.
Everything else is the off-white color of the drywall. He walks into the
bathroom and sees a few swatches of the greenish, waterproof drywall. He walks
past the whirlpool tub his wife has insisted on and to the half-wall behind
which the toilet will eventually sit. He hears his wife turn off the jets to
the whirlpool and hears her splash water at him.

"Hey! I'm trying to bush my teeth here!" he says to her in mock annoyance.

"I love my tub," she says. He spits into the sink and looks over at her. Her
long blond hair is wet where it touches the water, but dry above it. The water
is still in motion from the jets and bubbles still cover most of the surface.
He watches intently as more bubbles pop and more of her submersed body is
exposed to his gaze.

"Too bad there's not more room in there," he says. "I'm a little chilly and
could use some warming up."

"Ha!" she says with a jovial guffaw. "You're never chilly. But you can still
come in. I can sit up." He looks over at her as he scrubs his teeth a few more
times and see that sparkle in her eye, her "come hither" look. He knows better
than to turn down such an offer, and rinses off his toothbrush. He pulls off
his shirt and pulls off his underwear and steps in as she pulls herself to a
seating position. A few small bunches of leftover bubbles slide off her breasts
and drip into the water as he sits. "Kiss me," she says as she puts her hands
on his thighs and moves closer to him.

Jack opens his eyes and walks back over the dusty floor and into their bedroom.
He looks out the windows to the back yard, still covered in wet ruts from all
the delivery trucks. He turns and looks into her walk-in closet and says out
loud "You would have loved this." He sighs and walks back down the stairs into
the dining room and out the front door to his SUV waiting for him in the
driveway.

He sits in the SUV and sees on his cell phone that he has missed another call.
His mother. It is the number for his parents' house, so in theory it could be
either of them, but it was always mom who called. Kate had probably called her
to let her know that he was alive, not dead in a ditch somewhere. He should
call her.

He sighed and hit the redial button. She picked up on the first ring and
dispensed with pleasantries.

"Jack? Oh, thank God."

"Hi, mom."

"Kate told me you were OK. Where are you, where have you been? I tried calling
several times yesterday. I wanted to invite you to dinner. You should be here
with us."

Jack didn't say anything for a split second, so she said, "Jack, it will all be
alright."

"I know, mom, I know."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at the house."

"Did you forget something? You have to give the new owners all your keys, you
know that, right?"

"I'm at the new house, mom."

She sighed. "Jack. Jack, you shouldn't be there by yourself. Do you want me to
drive over?"

"No, mom, I was just leaving."

"Come to the house, Jack. I'll make grilled cheese, like you like it."

"Thanks, mom. No, I have a few things to do."

"Dinner, then. I'll have your father make steaks. Or kielbasa. Whichever you
prefer."

"How about steak. If you make steak and green beans, I'll come over."

He could hear relief in her voice. "Good, steak and green beans, then. Six
thirty OK with you?"

"Six thirty is fine. I'll see you then."

"OK, honey. Get away from that house for now. I'll see you tonight."

"Bye, mom." He closed the phone and heard the boys close the doors to the SUV
behind him.

"I hope you wiped your feet before you got in here, guys," he called back to
them. Hearing nothing, he looked back and saw them looking at their shoes
sheepishly. "Guys, there is mud everywhere. You're lucky this is my car and not
your mother's car. At least I can spray the mud off my mats."

"It's hot," they said in unison. "Turn on the AC!" one said. "Yeah, AC," said
the other. He looked back and smiled. He opened his eyes and started the car.
He shuddered as he looked out at one of his new neighbors rake leaves off his
lawn. The sound of the engine got his attention and he looked up and waved at
Jack. Jack waved back, pulled out of the driveway, and drove away, alone with
his thoughts.


Chapter 5.

"Hey, Jack."

Jack looked up from his drink and into the eyes of his sister. She was dressed
nicely, but casually. She had to listen to people talk about themselves all
day, and told him once the key was comfort. Jack had sat in her chair once and
he had never felt one so comfortable. It had cost a small fortune, she said,
but it was well worth it. Otherwise, she said, her ass would have fattened and
widened. "Hey, Kate." He wasn't expecting her to show up at their parents'
house, but he wasn't surprised. "Working on a Saturday? Did mom invite you or
did you invite you?"

"Questions, questions." She went to the small bar built into the wall-wide book
shelf and poured herself a couple fingers of whiskey. She dropped in an ice
cube and sat across from Jack. "I had a couple of clients this afternoon. And
mom invited me, though I thought it was a good idea - if I'd known you were
coming, I would have invited myself."

"Anything interesting at the office?" Jack knew her questions were coming, her
analysis was inevitable, and he had probably put it off as long as he could.
But he would try to delay it a bit longer if possible.

"Well," she said with a conspiratorial tone, "I can't give details, but my last
appointment is a guy trying to figure out a way to break it to one of his three
girlfriends that he doesn't want to see her any more."

"He needs you for that?"

"No, but I get paid one way or the other. The twist is that all three women are
friends, and none know about the other."

"Did you help him?"

She suppressed a small laugh as she sipped her drink. "Not really. I told him
he should break up with all three and find a new girlfriend."

Jack snickered. "I could have come up with that."

"Yeah, but no one asks a computer programmer that kind of thing."

He held up his drink as if to say "touche" and drained it. "So," she said as he
put his glass down. "How's it going?"

"As well as can be expected, I expect." Jack sat back in his chair and wished
suddenly, as he felt his ass widen, that he was sitting in her chair. Not in
her place, mind you, just her chair.

She sighed deeply. "Jack."

"Kate."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I know."

"There was nothing you could do."

"I know."

She took a deep breath and her voice cracked as she spoke. "We all loved them,
Jack. We all lost something that day."

"Some more than others," Jack said with a defeated voice.

"Jack, they were great kids. Nothing will ever replace them. Earlier, when I
mentioned divorce, all I meant is that there are all kinds of loss. I don't
know what you're feeling, but I do feel some of it."

"I know, sis." Jack paused for a moment, and then decided to say, "You know,
I've been seeing them all day. All week. Ever since...." His voice trailed off.

She looked at him askew. "Seeing them?"

"Not like ghosts. I like X-Files or Ghost Whisperer as much as the next person,
but I don't believe in them. Hell, I don't even think I believe in heaven. But
yeah, I've seen them. In my head. In the office; in the back yard, in bed, in
the shower, at the new house, in the hotel."

"What have you seen?"

"Everything. I saw the boys playing Scrabble, making nonsense words like they
used to do. I saw Amy graduating from college. I've seen Sarah making dinner,
I've seen her naked in a tub. The past, the present, the future, I've seen it
all."

Kate reached over and held his hands in hers. "That's all normal, Jack. It will
probably go on for a while."

"Great."

"Do you want to stop seeing them?"

Jack pulled his hands from hers and sat back in his chair. He ran his fingers
through his hair and rubbed his face. He has seen these four people, the ones
he loves more than Kate, more than Ben, more than his mother and father
combined, every day for the past decade. Would you ever want that to just stop,
would you actually wish for the memories to fade? "No," he said after another
moment. "I don't want that to go away, not yet. But I will have to get on with
my life."

"Eventually, yes. You can grieve, though. You have to grieve."

"I've grieved. I'm not sure I can grieve more."

"You can. You have to. You will."

He looked on the couch to the left of Kate and saw Sarah sitting there staring
at him. Her eyes were getting heavy. "I should take you home," he heard himself
say. Her eyes opened wider and she smiled faintly. "Listen to Kate," Sarah
said. "She knows things you don't."

Jack smiled. "What?" Kate asked.

"Nothing, just hearing Sarah talk about you."

"Something good, I expect."

"Of course."


Chapter 6.

Dinner was fine - great even. Jack's father was a killer cook on the grill, and
the steaks, filet mignons actually, were tender and thick. Jack's mother made
the green beans just the way Jack and Sarah liked them: steamed, then sauteed
with browned almond slivers. With a dash of garlic salt, they reminded him of
her. They reminded all of them of her. Kate sat across from Jack, their parents
across from each other. Most of the meal was partaken in silence, except for a
few kudos to the cooks. The wine was a fine addition, though drier than Jack
really liked. Once, Jack's mother mentioned Amy and started to cry lightly.

After dinner, they snacked on leftover chocolate cheese cake. Sarah didn't care
for it, but Amy loved it. He imagined Amy sitting at the table, virtually
salivating as she awaited her piece. She would say, "Daddy and I love it,
mommy. I know you don't, but that's OK because we'll have yours." She took a
bite and closed her eyes while she mooshed the soft confection between her
tongue and palate. "Mmmm," she would say as she ate the cheese cake.

"Are you really OK?" his mother asked. Her eyes reinforced her worried
thoughts, but he tried to placate her. "I'm OK, mom. It is hard, but I'm OK."

"Your mother and I want you to stay with us," his father said. "We had the
rooms all ready." All five of them were going to stay in the house for the
weeks between the closing on the old house and the closing on the new one. But
the tow truck had botched those plans.

"I might come, after," he said. "Right now, though, I need some time in a
neutral space."

"It will be good," Kate said, "for him to catch his breath."

They both nodded. Their parents deferred to her on such matters. Ben was the
financial genius, Jack the computer genius, and Kate the psychological genius.
Jack told her that if she had taken a few courses in pre-med, she not only
could have been part way to a doctor of psychiatry, but also could diagnose all
of mom and dad's ailments. Jack wasn't joking.

So he left after a hug from mom and a kiss on the cheek from Kate. The drive
back to the hotel was a short one, but gave him time to catch up on the latest
news. He heard a feature story about a new planned city in the United Arab
Emirates, awkwardly called the Falconcity of Wonders. As he drove, he imagined
deciding with Sarah where to live in the new city.

"Would we want a view of the Eiffel Tower, or of the Leaning Tower of Pisa?" he
asked.

"I actually think Venice would be nice. You can always see the Tower from the
rooftop. Central Park might be another place." She looked over the options on
the web site, dreaming of the view through the park to the Pyramid or to the
amusement park.

"Would you want to have one somewhere with an ethnic mix, or would you want all
westerners?"

She thought for a moment and then said, "I wouldn't mind living with Muslims
and Hindus, but I don't know if they'd want to live with us."

Jack nodded, not knowing either. "In any case," she said, "I want a place with
a whirlpool tub."

He pulled into the hotel parking lot and parked next to the door he had walked
out of earlier that day. He got out of the car and saw the boys run out from
behind it. "Daddy, I want to open the door with the key card!" "No, me!"

He would miss the lighthearted fighting over key cards and who got the middle
seat. The comparing of desserts with his daughter. The absurd planning with his
wife. He let himself into the room and got undressed and ready for bed. When he
made the reservation, he almost got a room with two doubles, as he had for the
past couple of years, but caught himself, and just got the one.

He unsealed the mini bar and opened it with the key. He pulled an eight dollar
bottle of white wine from the fridge, and poured it into the hotel room plastic
glass - there was just enough to fill the glass three-quarters of the way full.

He sat on the bed and watched as his wife walked up to him with just a pair of
panties on, and a long-stemmed wine glass in her hand, with her favorite rose
wine sloshing about as she sauntered up. He looked up at her and said, "I'm
going to miss you."

"Don't be silly," she said and dipped her finger into the wine. She licked the
wine off her finger and dipped it in again. This time her finger touched his
lips and he felt the coldness of the wine as her nail lightly scraped his lower
lip. He licked it off and she said "No, no." She stood in front of him, her
breasts hanging lightly at his forehead. She dipped her finger again and rubbed
the wine on his lips, then bent down and licked it off herself. He heard her
moan gently as she licked him, and he moaned, too.

Playfully, she sat on his knees, spreading her legs so that he could see the
thin slit of cotton covering her sex. She dipped her finger once more and
circled one nipple with the pink wine. She thrust her shoulder back slightly
and raised her breast to him. He licked the tip of her nipple with the tip of
his tongue and then closed his eyes and suckled her gently.

He heard her moan again and felt her push herself closer to him, then he opened
his eyes and only the feelings remained, the taste of her and the wine on his
tongue. He sighed and picked up his plastic glass and drained the white wine in
two gulps. He pulled back the covers and got in, flipped off the light, and as
he drifted off, mumbled, "Good night."


Chapter 7.

Jack dreamed that he was an angel. Well, maybe not an angel - more like an
invisible hummingbird, able to hover over an area for as long as he wanted,
watching the world below. It was the day it all happened, just two weeks ago.
He had been at work, which is why he was not with them, but it was no
extraordinary day. It was just another normal day.

Normally, the kids took the bus home and let themselves into the house. Sarah
hated calling them "latchkey kids," but technically they were. But they were
only alone for thirty to sixty minutes each day. It was their time to wind down
before mom came home to get their homework started. Sarah worked a shifted day,
getting to work at six in the morning so she could leave work at three in the
afternoon. The kids got off the bus at three o'clock, so they only had to
bridge the gap caused by the commute. This day, however, Sarah had scheduled
dentist appointments for all three kids all in line with each other, starting
at three o'clock. She, then, skipped lunch and left work at two o'clock.

Jack watched as she drove down the road toward the school, singing to Madonna
or Peter Gabriel on the local Jack radio station. She pulled into the school
parking lot at two thirty and went in to wait with the other moms and dads as
the kids were released for the day. He watched as the twins, Logan and Scott,
emerged from their classroom first. They waited semi-patiently for their sister
to come from the middle school section of the building. Finally, Amy rounded
the corner and gave her mom a half-hearted "Hi, mom." Amy hated the dentist.

They all walked out to the van and piled in. The boys took their seats in the
rear, Amy in the center. Amy hit the button on the center overhead console and
a small video screen popped down. They all donned their wireless headphones and
resumed watching Madagascar. Sarah pulled out of the parking lot and headed
toward the dentist. It was mid-October, and many houses were decorated for
Halloween already. Most of the leaves had fallen off the trees, but a few
remained, stubbornly holding on for dear life as the last of their chlorophyll
drained out. A blazing maple stood at the corner of the turn from the school's
access road to the main road.

Jack watched as Sarah looked both ways several times, getting more and more
antsy as traffic continued to plow through. The speed limit was thirty five
here, and if people had been observing it, even a little, it would have been
much easier to get out. Many had said that the intersection needed a light, or
a traffic control officer, especially in the mornings and afternoons. The
busses had the same trouble Sarah was having. Sometimes, traffic would be
backed up a hundred cars deep as busses helped each other out. The busses
turning right would stop in the middle of the road so that the ones turning
left had a free road to cross.

Jack was looking with her, left, right, left, right. From his vantage point
above the van, he could see more, and he could see that there was little end in
sight. Traffic began to back up behind Sarah. Finally there was a break. She
was only trying to turn right, so it was surprising how long it took. As she
began her turn, Jack looked left and saw a gigantic tow truck, one used to tow
semi tractors, bearing down on the intersection. If the truck had been going
thirty five, it surely would have had time to stop, but as it was, Jack had to
guess it was going sixty five.

Sarah didn't even see it coming. The tow truck slammed into the back of the van
and for some reason, the whole thing veered right. The truck must have tried to
swerve right to avoid the accident, far too late. Jack flew into the van and
saw that the rear of the van was pushed several feet into the interior. He
could see that Logan's head was already bloodied, and Scott was folded over the
crease of the seatbelt. He glanced at Amy, who was fine so far, and Sarah,
whose arms were in the standard ten o'clock/two o'clock positions, was lurching
forward. The van was riddled with air bags, but this was neither a side hit nor
a front hit, so nothing was deploying.

Jack slid out of the van and watched as the mass of plastic, metal, and flesh
veered toward the centuries-old maple tree on the corner. Within a split
second, the van smashed into the tree. Air bags deployed as metal creaked and
compressed. The kinetic energy of the huge tow truck accordioned the van even
further. Jack did not want to watch, but couldn't help it. He flew back and and
he saw Scott and Logan sandwiched between the front and rear of the van, one
head light from the tow truck now encroaching on the space where Logan's head
had been. He saw the look of fear on Amy's face as the front passenger seat
loomed closer and closer and finally struck her knees. Sarah's airbag was fully
deployed and keeping her away from the windshield and steering column, but it
could only do so much and soon, parts of the boys were moving to meet their
mother and she was crushed.

Jack flew out of the van and saw the driver of the tow truck flying through the
air. He had not been wearing a seat belt and he sailed straight through his
windshield, mangling his head and shoulders into a bloody mess. The drivers of
the cars that had been waiting behind Sarah were screaming, kids began to cry.
One was already reaching for a cell phone to call for help, though it was too
late for all of them.

Five people and a two hundred year old maple tree died that day. Jack hung
around while the first responders arrived and threw up their hands. They had no
heavy equipment to get into the tangled wreck, but even if they had, they could
see that there was nothing they could do. Police arrived shortly thereafter and
closed down the road. They diverted traffic over an overgrown fire access road.
The first fire trucks arrived and started working to extract the passengers,
his family, but they knew it was fruitless. Finally, a heavy rescue truck from
the nearby airport arrived and was able to cut the two vehicles free from each
other. They had to lay pieces of Jack's family in body bags one at a time. The
driver of the truck had died, maybe when he sailed through the windshield but
if not, then certainly when he landed on the branch that had fallen from the
tree and impaled him through the liver.

Jack didn't cry - this was a dream after all. But when the scene was played
out, he shot up into the sky and headed for the moon. In dreams, you can ignore
the laws of physics, so no escape velocity was needed; medicine is irrelevant,
so he could breathe despite the vacuum. He stopped short of the surface,
figuring he was finally far enough away, and screamed out loud with all his
might. In dream space, everyone can hear you scream.

He awoke in his hotel room, to the near complete darkness that hotel draperies
afford. He was breathing hard and looked around to see if Sarah was there to
soothe him or if Amy was there to playfully punch him; if the boys were there
to tackle him and beg for candy or tickles. But there was no one. He was
utterly alone.


Chapter 8.

Jack dragged himself out of bed. He hadn't slept well. The image of the family
van kept infringing on his dreams. He consciously tried to dream about Emma
Bunton or Marina Sirtis, but when he drifted off, his personal vixens faded and
tragedy replaced them. He brushed his teeth and pulled on his dirty pants from
the night before. He pulled a Montreal Expos cap out of his bag, a physical
memory of baseball teams past, and headed down to the lobby to grab breakfast.
He had loved to take the kids to hotels in new places to expose them to things
they would not normally see. Submarines in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, Amish
country in Pennsylvania, battlefields near Saratoga, New York... each of them
too far for a day trip, hence perfect for a couple of nights away. Perfect for
those times when Sarah was away for work.

The kids loved the continental breakfasts - or at least they loved many of
them. Some hotels tried to call their spread of plain bagels and coffee a
"continental breakfast." More like a cop-out breakfast, Jack had always
thought. The best ones had a separate room with a small selection of donuts,
bagels, cereal, and breads. Some of the best he'd been to had something hot -
pancakes or eggs and sausage or French toast. Amy loved pancakes and would
devour as many as she could fit. Logan and Scott loved yogurt and donuts more
than anything. As for Jack, he was no stranger to the donut and also liked
granola cereal. This hotel had a respectable spread. He gathered a largish
breakfast on a tray, grabbing two cups of coffee to go with his limp bacon,
warm biscuits, bowl of cereal, and raspberry Danish.

As he sat, he imagined the kids there, like they had been so many other times:
"Dad, can you put this butter on my toast?" Logan would ask. He could use a
knife but the knives were often flimsy plastic and the butter rock-hard from
the refrigerator. "I'll be back," Amy would say as she rose to return for more
of whatever her favorite thing was. "I don't like this," Scott would say as he
pushed a bagel or corn muffin or yogurt "with fruit chunks" in it toward Jack.
"You eat it," he would always say. Daddy as garbage disposal. Today there would
be no left-overs to eat, no butter to spread save his own. Jack sighed deeply
and took a bite of his Danish.

After he was done, he headed back up to his room. He grabbed the newspaper on
the way into his room and plopped it on the bed. He looked around for a few
moments and just wondered to himself what to do next. Almost in response, his
cell phone rang. He picked it up and looked at the caller ID - it was Ben.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jack. Ben."

"Hey Ben. Happy Sunday."

Ben chuckled. "Yeah, thanks. Look, I tried to get in touch with you yesterday
but I kept getting your voice mail."

"Yeah, sorry, I left my phone in my car, then I was at mom's and turned it
off."

"No problem. But I wanted to let you know that I got some information that you
need to know. About the insurance and the settlement." Jack and Sarah both had
life insurance through work and extra on top of that for safety's sake. They
both also had insurance on the kids, mostly because it was so cheap and they
figured it might help them later when they struck out on their own. The towing
company's insurance company was also in negotiations to settle on the accident.
Ben had taken over all the financial stuff, since Jack had been a basket case
in the days following the accident. After Jack had recovered, he asked Ben to
keep control, as he didn't want to deal with it and didn't know what to do
anyway.

"Neither do I, really," Ben had said. Jack knew that what he asked was unfair -
Ben had never dealt with death on this scale any more than he had, and he was
an accountant, not a lawyer. But Ben relented with only a little begging. Jack
suspected that their mother had told Ben that he had to do it, which, if true,
was fine with Jack.

"They sent stuff on a Saturday?"

"I guess it was couriered over late on Friday, but I'd left early. So when I
came in to get something yesterday, it was all here on my desk. The insurance,
that's all pretty straightforward. Her employer paid for a double-salary policy
for her and all of their employees, and she had an additional double-salary
policy on herself. Plus the employer policy kicked in another times factor for
accidental death, which this obviously was. There would have been more if she'd
died on the job."

"Yeah, I know."

"Sorry, I was just filling in the little details. Anyway, you had a policy on
her, too, a dependent policy from work. Plus she had her supplemental. And you
both insured the kids for ten grand each. Bottom line, Jack - your insurance
company and her insurance company both couriered checks to me. They total five
hundred and twelve thousand."

"Jesus," Jack said as he sat down at the desk chair. "I didn't really think
what it would all come to."

"I remember talking to you about this, and we agreed it would be best to have
enough for either one of you to pay off your house and send the kids to
college."

"Yeah, the kids to college." Jack sighed and covered his eyes with his hand.
The vision of Amy graduating flashed into his head and quickly left him.

"Sorry, Jack. I know this is tough, and money doesn't bring anyone back, but
you can do a lot with this. And that's not all."

"There's more?"

"Yes, the settlement, remember? I still think you should fight them on this,
but I understand why you're not. Anyway, they sent over draft settlement
papers. You'll want a lawyer to look these over, but to compensate for the
loss, they're offering twenty five thousand for the kids and a hundred thousand
for Sarah, and double that again because of the driver's negligence. That's
another five hundred and twenty five thousand."

Over a million dollars - Jack was shocked and awed. He never figured on having
a million dollars in his life, at least not all at once. On the other hand, he
wasn't sure that his family was worth only a million. He couldn't fathom
putting a dollar amount on each person, but a million seemed terribly low.
Still, he said, "I'll have a lawyer look it over, but that sounds fine to me."

"They're going this high because they want to keep you out of court. But I
think you could get two million just from the settlement if you fight them."

"No, thanks Ben, but it will be best to just have it done with."

"I understand, Jack. Your call. Can Candy and I have you over for dinner
tonight? I have all the paperwork here at home, you can eat and pick it all
up."

Jack sighed into the phone. "I feel like just staying here, but I should
probably get out. I think I will come over. What time?"

"Great," Ben said, with a touch or surprise that indicated he thought Jack
would turn him down. Ben knew that Candy had not been Sarah's favorite person,
and Jack's family only rarely visited because of that. "How about six?"

"I'll see you then. Later, Ben."

Jack closed his phone and gazed out the window. Over a million dollars. He
would have called it a life-changing amount of money, had his life not already
changed enough.

He remembered a TV commercial, where a child hears about life insurance on TV
and asks his father what it is. "It is there to protect the family if something
happens to an adult." The child thought for a moment and said, "Do we have life
insurance?" The father looked lovingly at his son and said, "Yeah, we do." The
child looked relieved and said, "Good." before returning to his puzzle.

The thing was, that was the situation that Jack always imagined. That something
would happen to him and his insurance would protect the rest of the family. Not
that the insurance on the rest of the family would protect him.

"Jack," he heard Sarah say. He looked at her laying on the bed. She was propped
up, resting her book on her stomach. "We need this to make sure our dreams
don't go away with us." They had been talking about spending extra for
insurance or just risking it. Amy was a toddler and money was tight.

"I know," he said, "but what's more important, the here and now or some unknown
future?"

"They're both important. If we have to eat macaroni and cheese a few nights a
month to afford extra coverage, we should. If I die, you couldn't afford to pay
off this house and send Amy to college. If you die, I certainly can't afford
it. We don't want to think about it, but it can happen." They were both being
practical, but in different ways.

"Fine," he relented. "I'll sign up for the extra coverage at work and call an
agent to find out how much more we need."

"Good," she said, and raised her book.

"Not that we'll ever use it," he said.

"Hopefully," she said.

Well, now they had used it, and used it all. He would have to go over all the
paper work and make sure a lawyer did, too, and then he had to make some plans.


Chapter 9.

Ben and Candy lived in a development that was as big as the one his new house
was in, but it had a fraction as many houses. Instead of the half acre for each
home that the houses in his development had, these each had at least one acre,
sometimes two acres. The houses were only slightly larger than his, on average,
and that made for some very nice yards. The entire development circled a very
large stand of trees, what kids would call "woods", and it gave the kids in the
neighborhood a great variety of places to play. He remembered his kids and
Ben's two going off into those woods for two and three hours at a time. Any
time Sarah got worried about them, Ben would just say, "Just a sec." He'd turn
to the woods and yell out "How many kids are in the woods!?" Then voices would
start to come back to the house, confirming that all five were still out there,
alive and well.

This time of year, at this time of day, he could only imagine the woods. As
Jack drove through the development, the woods were just a dark area where his
headlights failed to reach.

He heard Sarah say, "I hate this."

"I know," he had said. "But I still don't get what you don't like about Candy."

"Her name, for one," she said, rolling her eyes. The first time Ben brought
Candy to meet them in their apartment, just after Jack and Sarah had gotten
married, Ben introduced Candy to Sarah. Jack watched Sarah intently for any
sign of a smirk. They'd heard Candy mentioned, and Sarah just could not get
over the name. "What's her middle name, Cotton? Apple?" Jack thought it was
mildly amusing the first time, maybe even the second, but eventually, quickly,
it was just annoying.

"Sarah, get over it already. You've known her for seven or eight years and
still with the name."

She sighed. "I don't like her hair. It is too eighties, too Annie Lennox." Jack
had to smirk at that comment. He was a fan of Annie Lennox and Sarah wasn't, so
she wasn't really aware that Annie had reverted back to her natural hair color
after her Eurythmics days. He pulled another name out of his memory banks.
"More like Susan Powter."

They both laughed. Candy had gone through a strange bleach-blond, crew cut
phase that even Ben confessed he did not understand, but her jet-black hair had
grown out since then and was now more presentable, more appropriate to her
position as a partner's wife. "You know they know," Jack said.

"Know what?" she said, looking at him.

"That you don't like her."

She was shocked: "You didn't tell them, did you?"

"Sarah, please. No, of course not."

"How did they find out, then?" She looked worried now.

"Sarah, come on - we scoot out of their house as soon as we can any time they
invite us over. We never invite them to our house, at least not by themselves.
They put two and two together, and Ben just said to me, 'I know that Sarah
doesn't like Candy.' I didn't confirm or deny."

"Great. Now I'm going to have to make nice." She sulked until they got to Ben's
house, and overcompensated once they got inside.

Jack smiled at the memory as he pulled into the driveway. At the door, Ben
greeted him, and lead him into the family room where a football game was on the
wide screen. The San Francisco 49ers were getting their asses kicked by the
Minnesota Vikings.

"Almost half-time," Ben said, motioning to the TV. Jack saw Candy in the
kitchen, zipping back and forth between the sink and the stove, which was
hidden off to the left. She had to maneuver around the island bar that grew up
in the center of the kitchen - it was one feature of Ben and Candy's house that
Sarah had particularly liked, and had made sure the new house had. "Hi, Candy,"
Jack called in to her.

"Oh, hi, Jack," she yelled over to him. "Just a sec."

"She's making something new," Ben said. "She thought she'd heard you say you
liked it once. Shepherd's pie?" Jack couldn't recall ever mentioning shepherd's
pie in the presence of Candy in all the years he'd known her, but he didn't
doubt it either. If he hadn't said it, Sarah might have. He wasn't sure what it
was about the dish, but he did like it. Sarah hated it, so he rarely got it. A
layer of ground beef, a layer of yellow corn (canned is best), and a thick
layer of mashed potatoes. The first time Jack made it for Sarah had been in
their apartment and he had been sick of the same five meals over and over
again. He had browned the meat with diced onion, and had sprinkled paprika over
the potatoes. He'd mashed them fresh, but the few other times he'd made it, he
used boxed potatoes, which worked just as well and with a lot less preparation.

"Sounds great. I'm going to go see." Jack rose and walked into the kitchen.
"Need some help?" he asked his sister in law. Candy's black hair had grown out
past her shoulders and had a few stray grays. She was stick-thin, something he
didn't particularly like in a woman, but since she was his sister-in-law, he
was not really supposed to notice. He did happen to notice her panty line - he
couldn't help it.

"Oh, Jack, don't look at what I'm making, it is a surprise."

"Oh - Ben told me already."

"Ben!" Candy yelled out, startling Jack with the volume. "You told him?" She
lowered her voice for him. "I could kill that man some times. Well, shepherd's
pie - how does it look?" He looked and saw a big boiling pot - she'd cooked the
potatoes fresh - a dozen ears of corn stripped of their kernels, and the
remnants of onions and green and red peppers on the counter. A brand new
cookbook laid on top of the counter, in a cookbook stand. The dish itself was
illuminated in the convection oven, and he could see the layers through the
glass cookware.

"It looks great," he said, impressed that she prepared everything fresh. He
thought one of the beautiful things about the dish was how easy it was to make,
and he hoped the experience of putting it together had not ruined it for her.
"You went to too much trouble."

She doffed her pot holder mitts and put them on the counter next to the
cookbook stand. "Jack, you've had a hard time. Staying in a hotel? You need
someone to take care of you, even if it is just for one meal." She placed her
hands on his shoulders, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek.

"Thanks," he said.

"Now, shoo - go watch the game." He sauntered back into the family room, where
Ben held a stack of papers.

"These are yours," he said. He handed everything over. "You have to endorse all
those checks and deposit them right away. First thing Monday. No sense in
losing interest on all that. You should talk to someone about investing that
stuff. Something short term so you can get your hands on if when you need it,
like for the house."

Jack took the packet and held it for a moment. "This sucks," he finally said.
He sat at the couch and looked up at the TV just in time to see a 49er drop a
pass. Realizing he'd heard nothing but the three of them talk, he asked, "Where
are Ken and Suzie?"

Ben looked out the window into the woods and Jack followed his gaze. "They're
out there. Suzie is a hunter and Ken is a ninja. The games change as the
weather changes and it gets darker earlier."

"You know," Jack said, pulling something from the depths of his memory, "ninjas
are masters of stealth. I don't think our kids could be described as incredibly
stealthy." Ben and Jack both chuckled until the realization that "our kids" now
meant "Ben's kids." "This really sucks," Jack repeated.

He saw his three run to the door and yell back to him, "Dad, we're going
outside to play Pokemon!" He wasn't exactly sure what "play Pokemon" meant, but
he waved at them and said "Have fun" anyway.

"Ben, can you call the kids in? Dinner is ready," Candy called from the
kitchen.

Ben rose, crossed the room, and opened one of the French doors. He yelled out
the screen door, "Suzie! Kenny! Dinner!" A beam of light turned to the house
and started bouncing as Suzie ran to the house.

"I can't find Kenny, daddy!"

Jack heard a faint voice follow: "I'm Koga, not Kenny!"

Suzie stopped and swung the flashlight around until she found the source of the
voice. "Dinner, dummy," she said.

"Dad! She called me dummy!"

Jack sighed - he hated exchanges like this between Amy and the boys, they
always frustrated him. But sitting there, he could think of nothing else that
he wanted to hear than Amy calling her brothers stupid and hearing them
complain about it. Suzie came in, sweaty and red-cheeked, and Ken followed a
few steps behind. Ken was a year older than the boys and Suzie was a year
younger than Amy. He and Sarah has spaced theirs out by four years, though not
on purpose - that was just how it had worked out. Ben had Candy pregnant a year
after Suzie had been born.

Jack had wanted three kids, Sarah had only ever talked about having two. They
both got what they wanted, to a degree. Sarah got to have only two pregnancies,
though she tended to call the twin pregnancy more like one and a half or even
one and three quarters, considering how large she had gotten.

"I can barely walk! My back is killing me!" she said complained in the seventh
month. She was huge, but he could hardly sympathize - he had no idea what she
was going through. And he found her oddly more sexually appealing than ever in
those last weeks with the twins. Her size had made sex awkward, but they'd
managed. She said orgasm eased some of the discomfort, and he was happy to
oblige her. He tried to make her comfortable as much as he could, moving things
around in the bedroom so that she didn't have to move around too much to reach
the clock radio or her robe or a glass of water. And when the doctor said she
should not climb stairs any longer, he moved them down to the sofa bed in the
living room, relocating almost the entire bedroom there for the duration. Many
times she told him, "You got your wish, three kids." He knew that she was just
playfully trying to make him feel guilty for getting her into her "situation,"
but he would always counter, "This was all your idea!"

They could track the conception down to a specific night when Sarah had gotten
Amy to bed early and he had had to work late. He arrived home to a dark house,
seeing just flickering lights in the bedroom from the driveway. Not sure what
was going on, he ascended the stairs slowly. He turned the corner into their
room to find her asleep in a long, lacy red Victoria's Secret negligee he had
bought her a couple of Christmases ago, with a dozen large candles placed
around the room. A bottle of wine chilled in an ice bucket alongside two
glasses on her dresser. "What's all this," he said in a half-whisper. Sarah
opened her eyes and stretched. "Hey there." She scratched her shoulder, causing
the shoulder strap to "accidentally" slide over her upper arm. "Come over
here."

He walked to her and leaned down to kiss her. She put her hands on either side
of his head and held him to her as she slid her tongue over his lips. She was
not usually so aggressive, so he was taken aback, but only for a moment. "What
is all this?" he asked when she finally released him.

She slid her hand up her thigh, over her belly, over her breast and to her
chin. "Let's have another baby," she said.

"Hi uncle Jack," Suzie said, breaking Jack out of his memory. He smiled at her
widely and said, "Hey kiddo." She hugged him and whispered, "I miss Amy."

He felt a knot in his throat and held onto her for a moment longer than she
wanted to. When he let her go, his eyes were moist and he said, "Me, too,
Suzie. Me, too."


Chapter 10.

Back at the hotel, Jack watched the last half of a TV show, a detective story
where FBI agents attempt to find missing people before it is too late. I'm
missing a family, he thought to himself. Can the FBI help with that? Propped up
on all the pillows in the room, he lounged back on the bed with another glass
of wine from the mini bar. He had to decide what his next steps were. He had a
meeting with the builder tomorrow to go over a few details on the house, but
that wasn't until the afternoon. He planned to go to work in the morning,
shuffle some papers, maybe get a few things done, though he didn't feel
motivated. He reminded himself to vote on Tuesday, though his handheld would do
that, too. Make an appointment with a lawyer. Think about where to live until
the house is done. Tomorrow night was his last scheduled night in the hotel,
and though he was enjoying the solitude, it came at a cost, to the tune of a
hundred and ten dollars per night, plus tax. Plus eight dollar mini bottles of
wine.

He thought he might go to the book store tomorrow. It was something he and Amy
had liked to do together. They both devoured books, though she had more free
time than he had. Sarah liked to read, but she wasn't a browser. She listened
to the recommendations of her friends, or Oprah, and borrowed books whenever
she could. She always said, "I'm not going to keep it, why not just borrow it."
Jack felt mostly the same way, but he was willing to pay for a new hardcover
when the book really interested him.

Amy was different - she loved books, loved to buy them, and kept each one she
bought, used or new. She saved money from birthdays and from her few
babysitting jobs. She spent it wisely, buying used when she could, but always
snatching up the latest in her favorite series. Though she was too young to be
up at midnight to buy Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince at midnight,
though she'd seriously asked if she could. She was looking forward to the next
one because Jack and Sarah had said they just might let her buy it that first
night.

He resolved to spend some time at the local Barnes and Noble tomorrow night, no
matter what. Maybe he'd even grab a coffee at the cafe, something he only
rarely did when he was with Amy.

The FBI found the missing person, though she was found dead. Maybe that's
appropriate, Jack thought. The evening news came up and previewed a story about
a murder in upstate New York. Lovely. He remembered the conversations he'd had
with Sarah about a security system in the new house.

"You know they drill holes in your windows, right?"

"They do not," she said, skeptical. He had been trying to talk her out of the
plan for a house-wide security system.

"They do - that's how they put the sensors in. It voids your warranty. Jim
junior told me." Jim and Jim Junior were their builders, a father and son team.

"Well then, I don't want that - but you can have other kinds of sensors. Like
motion detectors. Infrared. Lasers."

"What if one of the kids gets up in the middle of the night and gets motion
detected? Or lasered. We'll have alarms going off everywhere. I guess I would
not mind motion detectors as long as the system is self-contained. I would not
want to trigger a police response every time Logan needs to take a piss."

"I'll think about it - I want to know all my options."

"Your options are only limited by the money, and we're near the edge of our
budget's outer limit with what we've already done. I say a motion detector
flood light over the garage and be done with it. If need be, we can always add
things inside later."

"We'll see," she said. Of course, that was code. When she said "we'll see" to
the kids, it meant "never," and when she said it to Jack, it meant, "We're
going to do what I want anyway."

"You know I just get worried, Jack. With all the shit that's happened across
the country lately, with all the shit right here in the county. It's scary. I
want to feel safe in our house!"

How could you argue with that?

Jack watched the news through to the weather report. He saw reports about
election year spending, about disabled alarms at the nuclear power plant, about
a Supreme Court justice coming to speak to a law school class, and about the
price of gasoline and heating oil. The weather called for chilly but average
temperatures over the next week, with chances of snow flurries in the "cold
hollows and higher elevations." Only one day of rain on the horizon, Wednesday
most likely. A smattering of political ads followed - he was sick of them. He
didn't follow politics much, and had made up his mind on the candidates weeks,
even months, ago. So much money spent to say so little. He had read in the
paper that morning that the local TV stations were shaving minutes off their
newscasts to make room for paid political ads.

After the ads finally finished, and while the sportscaster droned on, Jack
drifted off. He found himself in the bagel shop where he worked after he
graduated from college and while he waited to hear about job offers. It was to
have been a job to hold him over for a few weeks, but that had been two months
ago. It was here that he met Sarah.

The first time he saw her, she was walking into the shop and the sun was behind
her, as it had been all of the customers that day. But the sun shone through
her hair like it had for no one else. She verily glowed. He was taking orders
that day, and so he watched her walk up to him. She was looking around at the
unfamiliar surroundings - she'd obviously not been in the place before. "Can I
help you, miss?" he asked her. She was beautiful, but she was obviously a
worker bee at one of the local lawyer's offices or in a bank, and he was a
lowly bagel maker, so he expected nothing. "Hi, uh, I guess a plain bagel with
plain cream cheese, please." He started to slice into the bagel when she said,
"My co-workers tell me you have the best bagels."

He sliced through the bagel and looked up at her. "Best on this street, anyway.
Toasted?"

"Sure," she said. "What's good to drink?"

"The coffee is fresh and hot if you like coffee." She wrinkled her nose - not a
coffee drinker. "There's also hot tea we can make for you, or there's a Snapple
cooler over there."

"Snapple?"

"It's basically fancy iced tea, they have a few good flavors. Diet, too, if you
need it." He regretted saying that last, but she didn't seem to notice. She
walked over to the Snapple cooler and grabbed a bottle. He was wrapping her
bagel when she came back. "Here you go, Lulu will take care of you," he said,
indicating the cashier. She looked at his name tag and said, "Thanks, Jack.
I'll let you know if the Snapple's any good. See you later."

And he did - he saw her once or twice a week for two months. But then he
finally landed a job, a good one, and he had given his notice. The manager was
not surprised. Jack had originally told him the bagel job was temporary anyway,
and the turn-over was pretty quick for all of the employees. His last week, he
didn't see Sarah, not until the very last day. She came in on a cold day, with
the sun refracting through the fogged pane glass door. She shivered as she
walked in. "Hey, Jack," she said.

"Hi Sarah." He knew many of his customers on a first name basis, but the only
one he really cared about was Sarah. "The usual?" She had gotten the same plain
and plain for two months.

She looked at him and said, "You know, I've been thinking of a change. Let me
try a wheat with scallion."

"Wow, changing both the bagel and cheese at one time - you are a wild one!"
They smiled at each other. He reached back and pulled a still-warm wheat bagel
from the bin and started to cut it up. He looked up at her and noticed her
watching him. "I have some news."

"Oh? Something new in bagel world?" She smiled over at him.

"No, in mine. I'm leaving this place. I got a new job." He picked up a spreader
and scooped out the scallion cream cheese. Her smile fell and he could see she
was unhappy about the news.

"That's too bad. I'm going to miss you, Jack. I always like coming in here and
seeing you." She watched as he spread the cheese over both halves of the bagel.
"Where are you going? Anywhere close?"

She thinks I'm moving to a new restaurant, he thought. He grinned. "Well, I'm
finally putting my degree to use. I'm going to be a programmer at IBM."

"Oh. Oh!" She perked up. "I didn't know you were a computer guy. I just
thought..." She trailed off.

"You thought I would be making bagels for the rest of my life? Ha!" He chuckled
as he wrapped her wheat bagel. "No, I have loftier goals. Can't have a family
on what I make here, not unless you own the place." He handed over the bagel.
"Linda will take care of you." She took the bagel and he leaned down to do
something in the privacy of the prep area. He glanced over and watched her as
she slowly, regretfully, slid over to the cash register. He finished what he
was doing and walked behind Linda.

"I guess this is goodbye, then, Jack."

He held out a piece of paper to her. "Only if you don't call me. My number's on
there, I hope to hear from you." She looked at him askew for a moment and then
smiled and took the paper.

"You will," she said. She turned and nearly skipped out of the shop.

"Slick," Linda said. "She's cute."

"I know," he said as he walked back to his station, wiping his knife on his
apron. "What can I get you," he asked the next person in line.

She called him the next Thursday night. "I'm not even sure why I'm calling,"
she said.

He decided to go for the gold. She was a first water, the purest of diamonds,
and he wasn't going to find himself playing second fiddle to some other guy who
was able to woo her. "I'm glad you did," he said. "I miss seeing you every
day."

"It wasn't every day." Her voice was hesitant, like she wasn't sure if she was
about to hang up. He jumped in - nothing ventured, nothing gained:

"Do you want to go out tomorrow night? Nothing fancy, just a light dinner and a
movie or some dancing?" There was no sound from the other side of the phone.
Jack looked at the antenna of his wireless phone, sticking eighteen inches into
the air, to make sure it was still getting a signal - not that you can tell by
looking. "Sarah?" he said into the phone.

"Yes," she said. "Yes, yes, I will. I'm sorry, I don't get out much, I don't
get asked out much. But I like you. So yes."

"Excellent," he said, repeating a catch phrase from his latest favorite movie,
Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. "I'll meet you at the Circle-K." Did he
just say that out loud?

"What?"

He did - time to recover: "Sorry, I was thinking out loud. How about we meet at
the High Street Tavern. Six o'clock. I'll try to plan something out for us
after that."

He met her at the restaurant right on time. He wasn't always punctual, but he
was glad that she was, at least this time. They sat, ordered a couple of
drinks; he a margarita with salt and house tequila; she a Manhattan. While they
waited, they got to know each other.

"Did you really think that I was going to make bagels for the rest of my life?"
he asked, lightly mocking her.

"Well, I see you once, twice, three times a week, for two or three minutes. It
isn't like we shared secrets or anything."

"True. Well, I graduated from the university in May, and I interviewed in four
places for a job working with computers. I didn't think I'd ever get something,
but IBM is expanding and they need programmers. It just so happens that I am
one of those."

"So you write stuff to tell a computer what to do?"

"Exactly. It was good to get into IBM first. Some of my friends from school
have other jobs and look to IBM as the place they eventually want to be. Better
to start building a pension now! So, I know you work for a lawyer - what do you
do?"

"Well," she answered as the waiter dropped their drinks off, "I graduated
pre-law in May a year ago. I decided that I wanted to be in law but not be a
lawyer. I love the law, the legal wranglings, the loopholes, the forms,
contracts, all that. But I don't really want to be a lawyer. It probably sounds
dumb, but that's the way it is. Honestly, I think I'm smarter than some of the
idiots they have as partners - in fact, I know I am. But part of being smarter
means that I get to come in at eight and leave at five and I don't take work
home with me or have to deal with angry clients or judges."

"Well, then, you can be the round hole and I'll bed the square peg. We don't
really mesh up in terms of what we do. Maybe we should cut this short right
now." Jack smirked an ironic smirk and she tilted her head at him, trying to
think what to make of him. She dipped a couple of fingers into her glass and
flicked the drops of whiskey at him. She laughed and he laughed and he watched
her as she sucked the rest of the Manhattan off her finger tips.

His dream flashed forward to their third date. Jack had a plan, to ask her,
formally, on the fifth date, if he could take her to his bed. But Sarah had
other plans. They went to see The Mask, and laughed heartily at Jim Carrey's
shenanigans. Jack was an instant fan of Cameron Diaz, and was entranced by her
performance on screen. He was comfortable with Sarah, comfortable sitting next
to her, close, in the intimate theater. Since his plan had a few dates before
it kicked in, he was also relaxed. After the movie let out, they started
walking and discussing the movie.

"Do you think they'll do a sequel?" she asked.

"I don't think the characters were really set up for a sequel," Jack said. "But
the mask itself - it could get found by someone else, and then all kinds of
havoc can reign."

"I guess..." They arrived at her car, where he normally left her after a kiss,
as his apartment was a short walk from downtown and her condo was a couple of
towns away. He moved toward her to kiss her and she stopped him and said, "Hop
in - let's go to my place."

"For what?" Jack asked, realizing too late that it was pretty nearly the
stupidest thing he could have said.

She was unfazed, though, and said, "So we can ... talk."

They got in the car and pulled out of the parking lot. It was her lot, the one
that she leased for work, so she used her access card to open the gate. They
drove in silence for a few minutes before she spoke again.

"So," she said. He waited for a moment for the rest, but there was no rest -
she was opening the door.

"So?" He wasn't sure where she was heading, so he had nothing to add. If
nothing else, he was confused.

"So," she repeated. "I was wondering during the movie if you were planning on
asking me to your place tonight."

"Oh."

"But you didn't, so I decided to ask you to mine. I hope you don't think me too
forward. But I'm being forward."

"I don't mind. I just..." He trailed off.

"Just what?"

"I just ... had a plan."

She chuckled. He looked at her in the dark, he face illuminated by the passing
cars and the streetlights. She was beautiful. "What was the plan?"

"I was going to ask you to my place on the fifth date," he said, suddenly
sheepish.

"That's cute," she said as she reached over to grab his hand. "I would have
said yes tonight. If you want, I'll still say yes tonight." Jack smiled as he
saw her face in the lights of another passing car, then lifted her hand to his
mouth where he kissed each of her fingers.

She was moaning gently as she pulled into her parking space at the condo. He
was kissing her fingers, gently sucking on them, and touching her palm lightly
with his finger tips. He had never done this with any of his three prior
girlfriends before, but it seemed like what she wanted, so he kept going, even
as she was driving. She, for her part, had never had this done to her, but she
found it highly erotic. At one point, when he seemed to be concerned about her
ability concentrate, and get them to the condo safely, she moved her hand to
his mouth, veritably forcing him to continue. As she shifted the car into park,
she whispered, "God, I love that." He kissed up to her wrist and licked the
soft skin there and he could feel her melting. He kissed up her forearm until
he reached the crook of her elbow where he licked her again. He tasted salt and
kissed where he'd licked. He saw her lick her lips and watched as her eyes
rolled back into her head. He smiled - her reaction was as erotic as what he
was doing to her. He stopped and she said, "Let's go upstairs - my neighbors
watch."

She held his hand and pulled him up the stairs to her front door. He pushed her
against the door and kissed her, hard. He felt her mouth open slightly and her
tongue on his lips. He opened his mouth in response and their tongues touched.
He felt electricity run from his mouth and down his entire body. He hoped she
felt the same. She pushed him off of her and fumbled with her keys. She finally
got the door open and reached in to flip on the entryway light. She pulled him
in and shut the door. Their lips locked as he pushed her against the wall. She
moaned into his mouth as his tongue explored her mouth and his knee pressed
between her legs. He held himself up with one hand and reached up to her breast
the other. He massaged her gently and he felt her press her chest into his
hand. He felt her hand on his, urging him to massage harder. He rubbed his
thumb over the roundness of her breast and felt her nipple rise under the
layers of fabric. Sarah gripped his hand again and moved it lower, placing his
fingers directly between her legs. "Take me, Jack," she said. And he did.


Chapter 11.

Jack awoke feeling refreshed and oddly ready for the day. He'd set the hotel
room's alarm clock for six thirty, the time he normally got up, though that
time was left over from the days when he got the kids ready for school in the
mornings. He was able, then, to hit the snooze bar three times before he
actually got out of bed. In the semi-waken stage between alarms, he tried to
finish his dream, only vaguely remembered, of he and Sarah on their honeymoon.
To no avail - he'd have to revisit that later, in pictures or in dreams. He
shut off the alarm for good and nearly hopped out of bed. He turned on the TV
to the morning news and went through his morning routine: brush teeth, pee,
shower. He dressed in the "business casual" dress of his employer. He never
liked the buttoned-down, white shirt and tie, stereotype of the IBM worker bee.
Fortunately, he had not had to wear that kind of garb for years, and so he
pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt - the only restriction was that
t-shirts had to be plain with no graphics and only small logos permitted.

He didn't bother shaving, he was still smooth enough from the other day, and
went down to the lobby for breakfast. With the new week, it appeared that they
had new fare, and he indulged in a few hundred calories' worth. He got into his
SUV and started on his way to the office. The office was actually a building on
the site of a manufacturing plant. His co-workers were all programmers working
on the same kind of projects, writing utilities used to test the microchips
that the plant made. On the way to work, his phone rang. It was Kate.

"Hey Kate," he said.

"Hey Jack. What are your plans today?"

"I'm on my way to work right now. Hold on, I gotta put you on speaker, I'm
getting to a busy spot here." He pushed the speaker phone button and said, "Are
you there?"

"I hear you - but can you turn off the radio?"

Jack flipped off the radio and said, "What's up?"

"I know we talked and I think you sound pretty good - but I'm still worried
about you. How are you feeling? Are you ready to back to work?"

Jack sighed. "I appreciate it, sis, but I'm fine. I was at work almost all of
last week, aside from the half-day I took Friday for the closing. Really, it is
best to keep my mind occupied. I start thinking about them otherwise."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"No, I've remembered things I have not thought about for a long time. I think
my mind is letting them out so that I won't forget them for good. Does that
make sense?"

"Of course."

"I've been remembering conversations I had with Sarah, with the boys, with Amy
- I imagined Amy eating pancakes the other day at breakfast. I imagined
breaking up a fight between Logan and Scott over who was going to be Pikachu
and who would be Charmander. I even imagined Amy at her graduation."

"All perfectly normal, Jack, unless you're talking to them and they're talking
back."

"No, nothing like that," he lied. He had seen Sarah the other night at dinner,
but he wasn't sure if that counted or not. If it did, he didn't want to let
Kate know about it, at least not yet. "But," he continued, "I remember sex with
Sarah well enough to get a woody."

Kate chuckled. "That's normal, too, unless you're a eunuch or something. I
would never assume that you stopped thinking about sex." Kate had found a stash
of girlie magazines that he'd had in his room when he was 19 and she was just
barely 10. She didn't quite understand what they were at the time, but once she
did, she brought it up every chance she got until she reached high school.

"Well, I haven't. And now I'm sitting in traffic and heading to work, and it
will be a normal day." Something suddenly jumped to mind: "Does your practice
have a lawyer?"

"Of course - why?"

"Well, I need a referral to someone reliable - the insurance company wants to
settle the liability claim and I want someone to go over the paperwork."

"I'm not sure our lawyer does that, but she might know someone who does. That
will put a real kind of end to that part of your saga. Are you ready for that?"

"I am," he said as he rounded the last corner before the factory entrance. "It
is hard, trying to decide if the dollar figure they want to place on someone's
life is fair, but I have to get this done and move on. Don't you think?"

"I think you do - eventually. I don't want you to move too fast."

"Point taken. Can you email me your lawyer's name and number? I'll call later
and see if she can help or give me a referral."

"Will do. Have a good day, Jack."

Jack hung up as he pulled up to the security gate behind a line of a dozen
other cars. He slowly approached the gate and watched as each driver held up
their ID. He remembered coming through this gate last spring with Logan, on
career day. The deal was that Amy was too old for career day, so Logan went
with Jack and Scott went with Sarah. "What's happening?" Logan asked, his
interest suddenly piqued. He had been too involved in his donut and Gameboy to
notice anything up to this point.

"It is just the security gate," Jack said nonchalantly. There had been a
security gate here since before his time, though he recalled that most of the
time, up until September, 2001, the security guard had more or less just waved
people through. The mention of a security gate got Logan excited.

"Is there a guard in that little room? Does he have a gun? Has a bad guy ever
gotten in? What would a bad guy want in IBM?" Jack was certain he would not
remember all the questions, but he was equally certain that it would not
matter.

"There is a guard in that room who checks to be sure that everyone has an ID.
If you don't, they make you turn around and go home to get it."

Jack looked back at Logan in his seat, suddenly looking worried. "What's
wrong?"

He looked up and said, "Daddy, I don't got an ID card. Will I be in trouble?"

Jack smiled and said, "No, I have one that will work for both of us. The guards
know that kids are coming today. You never know, he might have his kid with him
today." That got Logan even more excited. He heard Logan unbuckle, shift over
to the driver's side, and rebuckle so that he could see out the window better.
Jack drove up to the guard shack and held up his ID. The guard was paunchy,
dressed in what Jack assumed were comfortable shoes, black pants, and a crisp,
white shirt. He noticed for the first time that there he didn't bear a sidearm,
just a walkie-talkie holstered off his belt. There were no kids in the booth.
Logan noticed, too: "Nope, no kids," he said as Jack sped up to drive to his
parking lot.

Jack parked and looked in the back seat where Logan had been sitting that day.
He saw some papers, a crayon, and a few random pieces of Lego in the back seat.
Have to clean that up soon, he thought to himself. He closed and locked the
doors and walked to his building. Logan held his hand and walked briskly. "This
is going to be fun!" he said, though Jack was pretty sure he would be bored
silly in a matter of minutes.

Jack opened the door and walked to his office. He was the senior member of his
team, though he was still relatively young. But he'd found a niche, and his
co-workers from twelve years ago had all long since been promoted, laid off,
quit for other jobs, or moved laterally. He'd stayed because he loved what he
did, was very good at it, and had no interest in becoming management material.
As the senior member, he got an office, but also had to train new people and
build teams to tackle new problems. He was not a manager, but he had several
management duties. He was also a mentor to many of the programmers in his
division and, in the case of people he had worked with in the past, in other
divisions. He marvelled at what some of his protegees, former and current, were
working on. He knew that the testing software he wrote was a big mystery to
many, but he loved the challenge.

As he walked in, turned on his light, and booted his computer, one of his
current protegees, Tyler, or Ty for short, poked his head in. "Save the
cheerleader, save the world," he whispered and gave Jack a thumbs-up. Jack
smiled at the reference to a TV show, Heroes, that was the talk of the
division. Everyone seemed to like it, younger and older employees, male and
female. But Ty was definitely the biggest fan. Jack liked to watch on Monday
nights (or record it and watch it later), but Ty lived and breathed the series.
Someone else might have worried about him - it was, after all, just a TV show
and could be cancelled at any time. But Jack wasn't worried. He'd been through
it with Ty the year before. Just as he came on board in the division, the
maverick show Firefly, about a rough-and-tumble group of people flying about
the known universe in a Firefly-model spaceship named Serenity, had been
cancelled. Ty had been that show's biggest fan, but had survived. Of course, it
helped that he could quickly buy the series on DVD and knew that a film version
was being made.

Regardless, Heroes was just what the doctor ordered for their geeky little
crew. The staff did beat some of the stereotypes of the programming world,
though it also upheld some. They all liked sci fi to one degree or another,
though Vickie liked chick flicks and romance novels as well. Frank, the oldest
member of the group, was a Civil War buff. Bryan was an athlete and seemed to
have a new girlfriend every week. Jack, of course, has a family and a nice
house in a suburb, and was building a nicer one ... had a family. Tracie
rounded out the group. She was the one outlier, only a passing fan of sci fi,
much more a fan of Desperate Housewives and Grey's Anatomy than anything that
took place out of this world. Her saving grace was that she confessed to
getting hooked on Battlestar Galactica, and she said she could relate to
Heroes' Niki, who seemed to have a darkly split personality.

The mantra of the show, at least as it sat at that point, was "Save the
cheerleader, save the world." It was about people, otherwise ordinary people,
who discovered they had super powers. The cheerleader was Claire, the adopted
daughter of the series bad guy. Claire's super power was the ability to quickly
heal from any injury, including burns from raging fires and a piece of wood
impaled into her brain. Ty imagined himself the aptly named Hiro, a Japanese
worker bee who found he could stop time. Jack had once walked into Ty's cubicle
and found him staring at a clock much the way Hiro had in the first episode of
the show.

Jack waved at Ty and he went back to his cube. As Jack waited for his computer
to boot up, he looked over and saw Logan sitting at a small table usually
reserved for flowcharts and data schemas that Jack liked to have in hard copy.
He was coloring dragons and hamsters on the backs of scrap paper that Jack had
piled underneath the table.

"Hey, Jack." He looked over at the door and saw Vickie. She was a tall, lanky
woman with brown hair streaked with lighter shades approaching blond. "I'm so
sorry that I missed the services." Vickie had been away the week prior for a
long-before planned vacation with her husband. "I hear it was touching and
beautiful." All of the rest of his division had come for the service, and he
was not surprised that she had already been filled in on the details.

"Hey Vickie, thanks - it was. And it's OK, I told you that you had to go on
your vacation. How was Aruba?" Jack remembered the tiny island that he and
Sarah had visited a few years ago, just after the boys were born. It had been
hard leaving 10-month olds with his in-laws, but it had been worth it.

"Aruba was awesome," Vickie said. She stepped into his office and stood
underneath the overhead light. The light bathed her and cast odd shadows. "I
loved the beaches, the constant wind, the party boat! We dived off one of the
wrecks, it was great."

He knew that she and her husband had been having trouble at home, so he asked,
"Did you rekindle the romance like you'd hoped?" He watched her think for a
moment, trying to think of the right words, and saw her flush red, telling him
all he needed to know. But she said, "Yeah, rekindled. I just hope it lasts."

"It will," he said as he heard his computer beep that it was ready for him to
login. "It will if you both want it to."

"Yeah." She smiled at his mini-pep talk. "Thanks Jack," she said as she turned
for the door. "See you at ten." They always had a short meeting on Monday
mornings to kick off the week. Last week's had been cancelled because the
services were scheduled for ten on Monday morning. "Hey," she said turning
around to face him. He could still see the evidence of her sudden excitement on
her shirt. "Gonna watch Heroes tonight?"

He chuckled. "Yes," he said, "I think so."

"Good - it is good for you. A little escape from reality. See ya."

He appreciated everyone's concern, but it was getting a little tedious. He'd
hoped that work would be a haven from that, since he'd seen everyone last week
and had gotten all of their condolences. Hopefully Vickie was the last person
whom he he not heard it from, and that would be the end of it. He knew that it
would keep coming from Kate and his mother, but there was nothing he could do
about them.

Jack read through his email. A few pieces of junk mail had slipped through the
corporate filters. Two promised to tell him about unknown penny stocks that
were about to hit it big. He wondered who the hell ever fell for such pitches.
He knew it was enough people to make it profitable, but he still could not
imagine who thought they were so special that they were one of only a few the
spammers would choose for this special "insider" information. Another couple or
emails promised to help him make millions in settlements if he had ever worked
with polyethylene pipe. Another five promised to help him in bed - one would
extend his length by two inches, two wanted him to buy Viagra from questionable
overseas sources, and the other two had the same pitch, but for quick-dissolve
Levitra or a Cialis/Levitra combination. He quickly marked them all as spam,
hoping to update the corporate filters before anyone else was bothered by the
senders.

One piece of the remaining email reminded him to submit his weekly time reports
by Tuesday. A few emails were from mailing lists he subscribed to. And finally,
a new email from Kate, with the phone number for her lawyer in it. A reminder
popped up, telling him that he had a meeting in 30 minutes. He dispatched the
reminder, telling it to snooze until five minutes before the meeting. He opened
his text editor and took a look at what he had been working on the last time he
had been in the office. There were four source files, all in the C language,
all related to the same project. Looking at the clock, he decided that he
didn't have enough time to work on the project before the meeting, so he opened
Kate's email again, turned to the phone, and dialed the number. After the
receptionist parroted the firm's multisyllabic name, he asked for Pam, the
lawyer that Kate used. He gave his name and was asked to wait a moment.

"So this is Kate's brother," he heard a voice say.

Jack found the informal greeting a bit odd, but it immediately put him at ease.
"Hi, Pam," he said, repeating her informal tone. "So what has my sister told
you about me?"

"Well, I'm sorry about what's happened to you - she and I had a meeting last
week for some business stuff, and she told me about your tragedy. I'm so
sorry," she said, and he winced, having hoped not to hear that again. He gave
her a pass, though, having just met her. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, the insurance company has offered a settlement, and though I don't want
to fight them, I do want to make sure they're not getting away with anything."

"That's smart," she said. "Unfortunately, that sort of thing is not really up
my alley, but I can refer you to someone."

"That sounds great. The only lawyer I know only does house closings."

"Well, he might be able to help you, too, so I would put in a call there, but
let me give you a couple of names, and then you'll have some choices. Now, I
work with someone who could help you, Laura, but I'll also give you Brad, whom
I've worked with before."

"Thanks, Pam," he said. He jotted down the information for Laura and Brad as
Pam recited it. They said their goodbyes and Jack hung up. Within a few
moments, the five minute alarm went off. Perfect timing. He acknowledged the
reminder and walked to the meeting. He'd be early, but that was when the best
gossip was shared. When he walked in, Vickie and Tracie were already there,
talking in low tones to each other. They stopped as soon as they saw Jack walk
in. He looked at them conspiratorially as he sat down in next to Tracie, near
the head of the table, but not at it. That spot was reserved for Ganesh, the
head of the department. Ganesh's family was originally from India, though you
would not know it to hear him speak. His accent was every bit New England as
any of theirs. The seats were not reserved, by any means, except where Ganesh
sat. Jack used to sit at the other end, but had been asked to move several
times by Ganesh, who liked having his authority bolstered by Jack's experience
and respect he garnered.

"What's going on," he said as he swiveled toward the pair.

"Nothing," Tracie said. "Bryan," Vickie said. In Jack's mind, the two answers
were nearly the same. He liked Bryan, he was funny and seemed to be fun, but
his penchant to kiss and tell had made Jack lose respect for him as a person
within a few months of his moving into the division. He was a fine programmer,
though, so Jack had a hard time reconciling the two people. Fortunately, Jack
was only his senior and not his supervisor.

"Talk about him if you must," Jack said, "but not here. He'll be here any
moment."

"But he and Lydia..." Tracie started, and Jack shushed her. She sat back with
an exaggerated pout and Vickie patted her hand. As he shushed, Frank and Ty
walked in. They made an odd couple, Ty being about half Frank's age, but they
made fast friends when Ty started. They were chuckling about something, and
Jack was not surprised. Frank, despite his age, had the same juvenile sense of
humor that Ty had. They sat next to each other and kept talking between
themselves. Within a few moments, Ganesh walked in and took his seat. He was
opening his folder when Bryan walked in. The only other seat open was at the
other end of the table - the conference room was a small one. Bryan hated the
head of the table, but if he was going to come in after Ganesh, he got what he
deserved. That's the way Jack saw it, anyway.

Ganesh started as he always did: "OK, anything to report?"

The meeting went as it usually did. The programmers all talked about what
segments of the current test program they were working on, noting any major
problems they were having with the segments or with the hardware they were
supposed to be testing. It was complicated work, as they were supposed to find
problems with the chips after the chips were finalized but before they were in
manufacturing. If they found any, they had to go back and fix the hardware,
then get a new run of chips and start all over again. So far, things were going
well, most of the problems were not with the hardware but instead with a
graphics library they used to help understand the data flow through the chip
itself. Their testing consisted both of computational testing, making sure
calculations happened as they were expected to, and visual, where their
programs were monitored by the electrical engineers.

The meeting broke up and they each went their separate ways. Ganesh and Jack
had offices next to each other and the rest of the division had cubes just
outside the offices. As Jack walked into his office, he imagined Logan still
sitting at his side table, still coloring drawings of various mythological
creatures. "Hi, Daddy!" he says. "Look at what I drew!"

"The looks great, Logan - what is it?"

"It's you, Daddy. You're fighting an evil computer virus."

"Am I winning?"

"Yup. You're a hero."

Jack had the drawing still pinned to a cork board above his desk. So, he
couldn't stop time, or heal himself spontaneously, or fly - but he could kill
an evil computer virus with the best of them. Maybe the Justice League would be
calling on him, or the Avengers or X-Men.

Jack sat down and looked at the code in his editor windows. He wanted to get to
work on the code - he only had a few days before his work was due. But he felt
like he had to get the lawyer thing settled before he could settle in and get
these programs finished. He had already decided that his lawyer for the closing
was too busy - he seemed too harried during the closing to be ready to take
something else on, and since he still had the closing on the new house, he
wanted to keep these things separate. He decided to call Pam's associate and
see how it went. If he didn't feel right, he could always call Brad.

He dialed the same number he had earlier, but asked this time for Laura. He
gave his name to the receptionist and got her on the line within a few seconds.

"Jack, this is Laura. Pam mentioned you might be calling. How can I help you?"

"I'm not sure how much Pam told you..."

"At this point, only that you're Kate's brother. I've worked with Kate and her
partners a few times." She was very business-like.

"Well, bluntly, my family died a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." Her voice suddenly dropped some of the
business-like edge and softened with this news.

"Thank you," he said quickly, wanting to move quickly away from condolences.
"Anyway, my brother has been handling the insurance paperwork, and he says that
I have a settlement offer from the insurance company insuring the responsible
party. I'm not really up for a fight, but I want to be sure that they're not
trying to rake me over the coals. So I want someone to look over the settlement
offer and make sure it is on the up-and-up."

"I can do that, sure. Can you meet me in the office to go over the paper work?
We can talk about fees, too, so everything is out in the open."

Jack liked her voice - it was calming. "What time are you thinking?" he asked.

"I can be free just about any time," she replied.

"Days are hard. Can I meet you after hours? I can buy you dinner to make it
worth your while."

"Sure," she agreed. "How about tonight?"

"No," he said, "tonight is not good ... oh, no, wait. Tonight is fine. I had a
Boy Scout pack meeting tonight, but I guess I won't be going."

"Why not?" she asked.

"My sons - they're dead."


Chapter 12.

During his lunch hour, Jack had several errands to run. He was sure he'd end up
coming back late and told Ganesh that he'd be back as soon as possible, though
he wasn't sure when that would be. He first hit the bank and opened up a new
division on his account. He deposited the insurance checks into that account.
He then quickly drove over to the new home site to meet with Jim and Jim
Junior. The carpentry crew was already there. They had recently stopped working
with wood and they were now working with vinyl siding. Two mudding and taping
crews were at work, one on each floor.

Jim senior was not there yet - he was typically late for meetings at the site,
as he had several other new homes going up at the same time. Jim Junior,
though, was there. Though he was learning the ropes of his father's business,
he did not follow him around like a little puppy. He seemed to be concentrating
on coordinating a couple of projects, Jack's included, and that had worked out
well for Jack. The house, it was estimated, was a week ahead of schedule.

The site was a mess. The clay mud was scarred with ruts, some up to 18 inches
deep, where trucks driven to drop of supplies of one kind or another. There
were scraps of drywall everywhere, tossed out windows into haphazard piles
around the perimeter of the house. There was, however, one guy going around and
picking them up. He was stacking them exceedingly neatly on top of a pallet,
cutting large pieces to fit the square pallet size. Jack would have to ask
about that - do they recycle the paper and gypsum? In fact, was drywall even
made of gypsum any longer? In any case, two pallets had growing piles of neatly
stacked drywall pieces on them, one in the front and one in the back.

There was also a very large Dumpster on the site, about where his driveway
would end and his lawn would start. It was chock full of construction debris,
everything from small scraps of wood to cardboard boxes to coffee cups and
lottery tickets. Jack had looked in the Dumpster once out of curiosity, and saw
at least fifty dollars worth of five dollar lottery tickets. None of those had
been winners, of course, but he assumed that no big winners had been found - he
had not heard of any members of the crew being suddenly rich.

To Jim's chagrin, the Dumpster also seemed to attract people who were looking
to rid themselves of large items. Jack had noticed that a set of outdoor
furniture had been tossed in the Dumpster within the first week it was on site.
When Jack and Sarah mentioned it to Jim, they must have opened an old wound,
because Jim went on a tear, complaining about people in general, costing him
money to save themselves a few pennies. "It happens at every job site, and I
wish I could catch them in the act." He wasn't sure what Jim would do if he did
catch them. He was a bit of an intimidating figure, and he might have just
wanted to scare the perpetrators, but he was also an avid hunter and carried a
hunting rifle in the rear window of his big, red truck - Jack imagined that Jim
could make effective use of it on a Dumpster dumper as well as he could any
deer. Then again, he might just want to call the police. The Dumpster itself
warned of a five hundred dollar fine for unauthorized dumping. Sarah had warned
Jack not to throw a coffee cup into in based on that warning, but Jack surmised
that Jim was not looking to prosecute him, the new owner, for disposing of a
coffee cup.

Jack walked up to Jim, who was standing beside the big blue Porta-Potti that
was on the site. The portable commode had been a thorn in Jack's side - he
certainly understood the need for it, but before the accident, he had gone to
the site every day to take a picture of the exterior to have a record of the
progress of the project. Around the third week, the house next door was fully
completed and the potty was moved from that site to his - and right into the
middle of the frame of his photos. After a while he got used to it, though, and
eventually began to use it as a reference point in the frame as his
previously-chosen reference point, a tree in the distance, was covered by the
walls of the house. Jack had ended up using the potty several times on various
occasions, especially in the weeks before the accident. It was getting darker
earlier and he had to rush out of the office to get to the site before the
ambient light dissolved into dusk. The camera he had was a high-end digital
SLR, but even it couldn't overcome the vagaries of light. A few times it got
too dark and the camera wanted to use the flash, which was fine if he had been
taking a photo of the Porta-Potti, but not for a wide-angle view of the house
taken from a vantage point far beyond the range of the flash. A few pictures in
his collection were the result of several attempts to hold the camera steady
enough to get a passable picture with minimal blurring as he experimented with
slower shutter speeds and no tripod. Jim was standing by the commode as it was
about as far away as one could get from the house without standing in the
street. He was taking in the view.

"Looks good," Jack said as he pulled up beside Jim. Jim looked over at Jack and
nodded. "Yes, it does. The crews are working hard. Ever since the accident, I
think they've been pulling for you, working just a bit harder."

"I appreciate it," Jack said sincerely. The original plan had been for the
family to stay at his parents' house in the time between closings, and they had
worked hard to extend the first closing out as far as possible and to push the
builder to finish as soon as humanly possible. He remembered the meeting in the
Jims' office:

"December 15?" Sarah had said, sounding a bit crestfallen.

"I think that's aggressive," the elder Jim said. The younger Jim nodded assent
behind his father.

"We certainly want to be in before Christmas," Jack said, trying to break the
tension that had suddenly popped into the conversation. They had been
discussing dates for picking out siding color, shingle color, paint color,
appliances, flooring, and all the other details that they had to choose. The
final date was written in pencil at the end of the proposal.

"I think you will be," Jim said, "but there can be delays, especially if the
weather does not cooperate in the first month or so. Once the roof is on,
weather doesn't matter much, but before that..." He trailed off as he raised
his hands in anticipatory resignation. Sensing that he had to assuage Sarah, he
finally said, "If things go well, everything falls into place, it could be two
weeks sooner. Could be two weeks later. We'll just have to see. The faster you
give me the go, the faster we can start."

It was a big decision. They had just gotten the deposit down on their house and
had negotiated a November 3 closing. Six weeks was a long time to be homeless.
Jack said, "You have to excuse us, we know it takes a lot to build a house. We
have this dream in our heads, and we've been influenced by Extreme Home
Makeover."

"That show kills me," Jim said. In Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, a group of
five or six designers tear down a house and build a new one in the same spot in
seven days. Of course, they often are helping needy or otherwise deserving
families, and have the help of hundreds of craftsmen and volunteers to do all
the work. "They have more people designing those homes than I will have for a
carpentry crew."

"We know, that's completely unrealistic, but just understand where we're coming
from. When you say 'Move that bus,' we want to be blown away, and we know we
will be."

"Yeah," Sarah said, "we trust you."

"OK, then. I know your situation. If there is anything I can do to trim the
time without cutting the quality, and without costing a fortune, I will do it."

"That's all we ask," Jack had said.

Jack looked at the crew climbing the roof to get access to the soffits and the
small overlap between roof lines where they had to place small, oddly shaped
slivers of vinyl siding. "They're doing a great job," he finally said.

"They are," Jim agreed. Just then, they saw a red truck driving up to the site
- the elder Jim had arrived. He bounded out of the truck, cigarette in hand,
and said, "Let's go in."

The house was warm - the mudders and tapers couldn't work in the cold as it
makes the joint compound dry inconsistently. Jim lead them into a side room and
pulled up some full buckets of the compound for them to sit on. He clapped his
hands together as they all sat and said, "So, things are going well."

"It looks like," Jack agreed. Jim junior nodded - in these meetings, he rarely
spoke unless spoken to.

"We have a concern, though," Jim said.

"Oh?"

"Since your wife died, since the accident," Jim started, boldly but slightly
awkwardly, "we have concerns."

Jack was surprised - he hadn't expected this. This meeting was originally to go
over a few last-minute details and to clear up some paperwork. No one had said
that there were any problems. "What are the concerns?"

The Jims looked at each other and Jim junior spoke next. "We hate to bring this
up, but we're concerned about the financing on your loan. You told us that it
depended on both of your incomes, but without two incomes now, we're concerned
that the bank will revoke the loan."

Jack thought for a moment, and then said, "They just might." It was obviously
not the answer the Jims wanted to hear because they both got their hackles up.
"But," Jack continued, "it won't matter." They relaxed a bit, and Jim senior
said, "Why's that?"

"I just deposited the checks from the insurance company today for their life
insurance policies. There is more than enough to cover what we owe you." He
used the plural pronoun without thinking, but even if he had thought he might
still have used it - this house was still "theirs" even if he would be the only
one of them to ever live in it.

"Well," said Jim the elder, "that's good. We had some options lined up for you,
but it sounds like you won't need them. This is really the best thing for all
of us."

"What were the options?" Jack asked, suddenly curious.

"Well, one was to back out. You'd lose your deposit, which we thought you
wouldn't want to do, but we thought we'd offer it as an option."

"OK. You're right, I wouldn't want to do that." Jack would have had a hard time
losing over forty thousand dollars even he'd wanted to back out.

"The other was that we enter into a partnership to sell the house. The only
problem would be that since the market has cooled, we might not be able to get
what you pay for it. Any profits would have been split, but if there had been a
loss, you would have had to cover it."

"I see."

"So," Jim said in conclusion, "going through with everything as planned was
really best for everyone."

Jack and the Jims stood up and shook hands. A pair of workers, covered from
head to toe in droplets of joint compound, appeared at the door. "We need some
of those," one of them said, indicating the five gallon buckets of mud.

"We were just leaving," Jim senior said.

Jack started to walk out of the room toward the front door when the
so-far-silent worker said, "You the new owner?"

Jack stopped and turned around. "I am," he said.

"Sorry to hear about your wife and kids, man. It sucks."

"Thanks," Jack said. "You're right about that."


Chapter 13.

After she'd gotten over the awkwardness of asking why Jack suddenly could meet
for dinner, Jack and Laura had agreed on a meeting at six thirty in a quiet
restaurant in the suburbs. Though there were more choices downtown, it was much
easier to park when you got out of downtown. She asked him to bring all the
paperwork he had on the settlement offer. He only had what Ben had given him,
plus he had a police report from that day. He stuffed that into the manila
envelope with the settlement papers and left the hotel to drive to the
restaurant. Since they'd never met, Laura said she would arrive a few minutes
early and wait for him in the bar.

"How will I know you?" he asked her.

"I have red hair," she answered, as if she were the only one in the world.
Knowing how his luck was sometimes, he figured he would walk in and find a
dozen women with red hair waiting alone in the bar. But when he walked in, he
only spotted one. The woman was talking to the bartender, so her back was to
him. From behind, it was obvious why she thought her hair was an effective
differentiator. It was long, ending about six inches past her shoulders, and
had a slight curl to it all the way down. He walked up to her, and ventured,
"Laura?"

She turned in her barstool and he nearly gasped. "You must be Jack," she said.
She was gorgeous, an almost dead-ringer for Rene Russo. His infatuation with
Rene Russo, and with the similar beauty of Anne Archer, had been no secret with
Sarah, and she teased him incessantly about it. When they took the kids to see
Yours, Mine, and Ours in the theater, she whispered to him as the opening
scenes began, "If you're going to drool over her, let me know and I'll pass you
a napkin." Jack had playfully slapped her hand at the suggestion, and several
times during the movie had asked her for a napkin, just to see her reaction.
Laura's lips were not as full and her eyes were deep brown and not Rene's
sparkling green, but otherwise the resemblance was uncanny. She was dressed in
a tailored suit, gray with pinstripes, with a shirt underneath that Jack
guessed was silk - it had a wide collar, and was unbuttoned down to just above
her cleavage. She wore running shoes, no doubt replacing some kind of high
heels that she would normally wear to work. She was tall, just an inch or so
shorter than he.

He held out his hand and she shook it. "I am Jack."

"I had them reserve us a table while I waited, so why don't we go there, order,
and get down to business." She turned to the bar keep and said, "Can you bring
that to my table, please?" She turned back to Jack and said, "Would you like a
drink?" He thought for just a moment, and said, "A Bailey's on ice would be
nice."

"Sure thing," the bar tender said and they walked toward the reception area.
"Is our table ready?" she asked the hostess. She picked up two menus and said,
"It is, right this way."

They were seated under in a corner. Hanging on the walls were an old picture of
a storm trooper from Star Wars, a framed ticket to a Mamas and Papas concert,
and a poster of Judy Garland in one movie or another. Hanging above Laura's
head was a rusty old plow. The decor was an odd mix of old Vermont farm
implements and entertainment memorabilia. He looked over her shoulder and was a
bit taken aback to see Sarah standing there. "Cute," Sarah said. "Her boobs are
smaller than mine, though." Sarah winked at him and he smiled as she faded.
Laura slid into the booth, got herself situated, and picked up her menu. "I'm
starved," she said, "so I hope you don't mind if I order a big, fat burger. I
may have to wear a bib, though - I don't want to stain this suit."

Jack chuckled. "I don't mind at all," he said as he looked down at the menu. "I
may do the same. I like their burgers." He looked up at her and saw her looking
at him. She quickly glanced down and took in the fare.

The waitress brought their drinks to the table and they ordered - she had a
mushroom Swiss burger and he had a Cajun burger. "Extra Cajun seasoning,
please," he requested. "I like them spicy," he said when the waitress left.

Laura smiled and sipped her Cosmopolitan. "So," she said. "These are not the
best of circumstances. First, I'll get dinner. If you hire me, you'll be paying
me enough that I'll be able to afford it, and I can write this off." Jack
appreciated her offer and her candor. "What I'll do is look at what you have,
and give you some advice. If you go with what you've got, and that's the end of
it, I'll just bill you for my time. I'm guessing about three hours at a hundred
fifty an hour. There are cheaper lawyers out there, but I'm the best."

"And if you come up with something different?"

"If I look at this settlement offer and I think we can squeeze more out without
putting you through the mess you said you wanted to avoid, then I'll take ten
percent of the difference. So for example, if you were offered a hundred
thousand, and working together, we get two hundred, then my bill would be ten
thousand. Fair enough?"

"Sounds fair to me."

She reached down and pulled an envelope and a pen from out of her purse. "These
forms basically say what I just told you. If it sounds good, just sign on the
bottom."

He remembered all the papers he signed without reading them at the closing. He
could do the same here, but even though he had a good feeling about Laura, and
he trusted a firm his sister recommended, he thought it would be good to read
the papers. "If you don't mind, I'll take a minute to read them first."

She smiled and said, "That's a very good idea. Be my guest." He read through
the two sheets of paper slowly to be sure he didn't miss anything. At one
point, he looked up to ask a question and found her looking at him. She averted
her eyes like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have been, and he
forgot his question. The paragraphs all seemed fine to him, and he signed and
dated the papers at the bottom of the second page.

As he slid the papers and pen back to her, he said, "You have quite an
incentive to convince me to push for more." He was interested in hearing her
answer - it would tell him a lot.

"True. I'm in this business to make a living. But at the same time, I want to
do right by you - you're my customer. If you listen to what I say but decide to
go another way, I'll get my hourly rate and that will be that. At this point, I
can guess that the settlement offer is too low, but you never know - I may end
up telling you to take it." She sipped her drink as the waitress brought them
each a glass of water and a Caesar salad.

"OK, then," Jack said, satisfied, as he picked up his fork. The salad was
typical Romaine lettuce, but cut into perfectly small pieces - he hated it when
the leaves were ripped or cut willy-nilly with no regard to how big the pieces
ended up. A smattering of croutons topped the lettuce and a healthy portion of
flaked Parmesan cheese topped it all.

"So," she said after chewing on a couple of bites. "Tell me a bit about your
family."

"I have this," he said, indicating the envelope with the settlement offer and
police report inside.

"I'll get to that," she said. "I want to hear it from you." She continued to
eat and sip her drink as he spoke.

"Sarah and I met twelve years ago and we've been married eleven. She had
actually been a paralegal, and probably would have recommended some of her old
legal pals if she were still here. By the time we met, she had gravitated to a
management role in the firm, and quickly got bored managing paralegals, even
though they had an attractive benefit package, and they wanted her to stay. By
the time we got married and she had the experience under her belt, she found a
management job in a larger company and when she died was the manager of human
resources. She always found it a unique path to where she ended up. But she
loved her work. The size of the company gave her the chance to have flexible
hours, which were important to her as we had kids.

"Amy was ten years old, and the boys, Logan and Scott, twins, had just turned
seven. They're great kids, were great kids." He paused to take a drink of the
Bailey's and then a larger sip of water. "It is hard to talk about them in the
past tense."

"I understand," Laura said as she pushed her empty salad bowl toward the middle
of the table. Her fingernails were painted bright red, but Jack noticed they
were not very long. The nail on her pinkie had a jagged edge on one side, like
the nail had broken off.

He continued, "They were on their way home from school. Normally, Sarah met
them at home a little bit after the kids got off the bus, but that day she was
taking them to the dentist, so she had them all in the van with her. She turned
on to the main road from the school and was rear-ended by a tow truck going
twenty five over the speed limit. The truck drove them into a tree and all five
of them died. It was a horrible scene. I only saw it in the aftermath, after
they figured out who they were and called me. A couple of other mothers saw it
pretty clearly as they waited in line to leave the intersection, and they were
pretty well shook up. It really was horrible."

Laura could see his eyes moistening as he talked about the scene and she felt
pity for Jack. He could see it in her eyes. As he said "shook up," she moved
her left hand down to his and held it for a moment, then squeezed it and lifted
it back up. That flash of compassion and intimacy let him know right away that
she was the lawyer he wanted. She wasn't a stereotypical shark, but was a real
human being.

"So, anyway," he concluded, "the police said the truck driver was at fault,
even though Sarah was pulling into traffic. If he had been going the speed
limit, none of this would have happened, and if he had been going just ten
miles an hour slower, he would have been able to avoid the accident. His
company's insurance company offered this," he indicated the envelope again, "to
settle the liability claim."

"And this all happened when?" she asked as he dug into his salad again.

He chewed, swallowed, and said, "A little over two weeks ago."

He was afraid she would again say how sorry she was, but she didn't - she was
in full professional mode: "They offered up a settlement quickly. Something's
not right there."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Liability claims are notorious for how long they take to process.
Sometimes two, three, even six months out. And that's when there is no trial to
delay things even further. If I understand correctly, you told them you wanted
a quick claim," he nodded as she spoke, "and they may have used that to their
advantage. Get you your money fast, maybe you'd never look into it."

"I can see that."

The waitress brought their burgers and cleared their salad plates. Laura picked
hers up with two hands and said, "Let me look over everything, do a little
digging, and see if anything's fishy. I'll look at their coverage, look at the
police report, at the settlement offer. I'll take good care of you." She winked
at him and took a big bite of the burger.

Jack again saw Sarah standing behind Laura. "She likes you," she said. And
again, she winked at him.


Chapter 14.

Jack made his way back to the hotel just before nine. He and Laura only talked
about the case - she read the police report while they thought about, and
decided against, dessert. She flipped through the settlement and when she saw
the numbers she chuckled and said, "I can get you more." He watched her as she
chewed on the broken fingernail as she read. He was definitely attracted to
her, but it was far too soon to do anything other than look.

He got into his room and turned on the TV. He caught the end of a news update
that promised to profile some of the people working for politicians, people who
stood at intersections waving at drivers with their candidates' signs. "They
live for the honk, the story at eleven," the announcer said. Slow news day, he
thought, though he knew that it wasn't: with more soldiers killed in Iraq; the
former dictator/president condemned to death; the election just hours away; the
looming expected Democratic victory; the President's obliviousness toward that
seemingly inevitable victory; an evangelical preacher's gay sex scandal;
upcoming Supreme Court hearings on abortion... he knew it was anything but a
slow news day. But with all the news being depressing in one way or another, a
light-hearted human interest story was just what they needed to keep people
tuning in.

Heroes began - a short recap of previous weeks' highlights, and a view of a
solar eclipse. Jack wasn't at all sure what the eclipse was all about. He liked
the show, but he knew that he missed a lot of the details. He had to hear about
the "f-looking thingie" from Ty - a symbol that kept appearing in the show and
which no one was sure what it meant. Ty had his theories, of course, including
that it was an alien symbol. Jack's theory is that it meant nothing and was
intended to drive Internet buzz. It certainly had done that.

Jack's favorite character was Matt - a police officer who suddenly finds that
he can read minds. He had a run-in with an FBI agent who didn't believe his
story when he found a hidden child in the home of a murder victim. She was sure
Matt was involved. He had already been taken captive by the show's bad guy and
his apparent accomplice, a "hero" (anti-hero? villain?) who seems to be able to
wipe someone's mind of memories; and we learned that Matt and his wife were on
the verge of divorce until he started to hear what he was thinking. Matt gave
her a night to remember, getting exactly the take-out meal she had been
craving, putting on just the music she was in the mood for, and giving her
great sex by doing to her just what she wanted just as she thought of it. Just
as he was able to hone these skills with his wife, though, he found that he had
a hard time blocking out thoughts in a crowd, especially while their emotions
were elevated during a robbery.

In all his years with Sarah, he had wished many times that he could read her
mind. He wondered how she would have handled all this if it had been him
driving. He wondered if she was with him now, a la Ghost Whisperer.

"Hey, Jack," he heard Sarah say from across the room. He opened his eyes - I
must have dozed off, he thought. Sarah was sitting in the desk chair. It was
spun around so she was facing him.

"You're not real," he said to her, though he wished she was.

"No, I'm not - I'm your dream, your imagination. But that doesn't have to mean
anything."

"If Kate was here, she would say that you're just a reflection of my fears, or
my stresses, or my desires, or some such psychological crap."

"And she would be right. But we can still talk."

"I feel lost, Sarah. I realized at the funeral that my entire life revolved
around you guys."

"Not your entire life. You had a lot of things going on just for you. When you
were at work, it was just you, and that was a big part of your life. You stayed
up way later than any of us, doing your puzzles or reading your books or
watching TV shows or coding God knows what for this web site or that. That was
all you."

"You're right," he said and slid to the end of the bed, so they were sitting
nearly knee to knee. "But all the other things - dinner, getting the kids ready
for school in the mornings, Boy Scouts, grocery shopping, window shopping with
you on the weekends, visiting your parents, selling the house, watching the new
one get built. Sex, watching Dr. Phil or Entertainment Tonight, buying you
mascara or filling your gas tank -- all these things I did with you, for you,
or to you. I don't have any of that now. We were all going to squeeze into my
parents house during this time and now I'm here. Alone, with my dead wife." He
sighed deeply.

"Jack," she said, slipping an inch closer to him. "You will be OK. It will be
hard, you know it will be hard. For ten years, you've had a family that has
relied on you and who you've relied on, too. You saw me when my grandmother
died, then my grandfather two weeks later - it was hard, but you grieve and you
move on."

"I'm still grieving, OK?" He was suddenly angry at her avatar - she was pushing
too hard. Then he realized, he was pushing himself too hard.

"I know you are. And I don't expect you to stop, not yet. But I want you to
finish the house. I want you to close on it. I want you to live there. Jack,
there will be a lot of memories there, memories of us. You need to decide if
you want to stay there or not. It is a good house, but if living there holds
you back, then sell it."

He sat silent for a few moments, then she said, "Laura is cute."

He lied: "She's a lawyer, Sarah, nothing else."

"Uh huh. When she touched your hand, it felt good. I know you were conflicted,
talking about me, the kids, and feeling that from her. But it's OK. I don't
expect you to pine for me. You're thirty six years old, I don't want you to
become the guy the kids on the block are afraid to look at. I want you to have
a life, with a good woman."

"You don't know if Laura is a good woman."

"No, I don't. You'll be able to tell. She had the right answers tonight. And
even though my boobs are better than hers, they were still pretty good." She
was smiling at him and he couldn't help but smile back.

"I got a good look at her cleavage. It was nice," he said with a smirk.

"I know, I saw you." Her smile faded. "You be careful though, Jack. Take your
time, and don't be afraid to talk to Kate. She loves you, she will help you.
Oh, that reminds me. I don't want you looking at Candy's ass any more!"

He chuckled. "Yes, dear."

She patted his knee. "Now, wake up, your show is almost over. You can dream
more about me later. I'll be here." She placed her finger on his forehead. He
opened his eyes and on the TV screen, he saw Matt punch someone in a locker
room. He got up and got ready to go to bed.


Chapter 15.

Jack dreamt of Scott that night. Amy and Logan had no interest in science
fiction, and Sarah had even less. But Scott had come to sit on Jack's lap while
he was watching Star Wars on DVD not too long ago, and he had been hooked. Jack
had been afraid Scott would be scared of the Tusken Raiders, the Sand People,
but instead, he had said, "Cool!" when he first saw them, wrapped up like
mummies to guard against the blowing sands of Tatooine. He watched, entranced,
as Luke, Ben, and the droids fly into Mos Eisley. "Daddy, is that car
floating?" he asked.

"Yup, that's a land speeder," Jack said. Scott was lucky. Watching the newer
version of A New Hope, he got to see it as George Lucas had wanted the film to
look when it was first released, but the technology just hadn't been there at
the time. To Scott, the land speeder looked perfect, with a shimmering aura of
heat or some other anti-gravitational magic underneath the speeder. In Jack's
day, there had been a blurry blob of "shadow" under the speeder, and if it were
not for his willing suspension of disbelief being in full force, he would have
had to laugh at the second-rate special effect.

Jack watched with amusement as Scott watched in wonder. The digital animals
that had been added to Mos Eisley fascinated him. "What's that animal called?"
he asked several times. Jack only knew the name of the Dewback and the Bantha -
several other critters and creatures had names he either did not remember or
had never known. Then came one of Jack's favorite parts - the Jedi Mind Trick.

The storm trooper says, "Let me see your identification."

Ben Kenobi waves his hand and says, "You don't need to see his identification."

The trooper wavers a split second and says, "We don't need to see his
identification."

Ben knows they are looking for the droids, so he waves his hand again: "These
aren't the droids you're looking for."

Another slight delay, then: "These aren't the droids we're looking for."

Jack knew the dialog nearly from heart, and Scott could see that he liked the
scene. "What was that, Daddy?"

"That was the Jedi mind trick, Scotty. The Jedi, they can control the minds of
others, especially the weak. He just made a suggestion and the storm trooper
saw the words in his head and said them. Since he was the head storm trooper,
all the other stormtroopers just listened to him."

"Cool," he said, and that was the end of that. He watched up until the
Millennium Falcon rocketed off the planet, and found something else to do.
Later that night, Jack was putting Scott and Logan to bed. He climbed up to
peek over the rails to their side-by-side bunk beds and kissed each of them on
the forehead.

"Have a good night, boys," he said. As he climbed down, he called out, "Go
right to sleep." He heard one of them sit up and he looked back to see Scott
kneeling on his bunk. "They don't need to go to sleep," he said as he waved his
little hand in front of his face. Jack had no idea what he was talking about
and was about to scold him for talking back, when he saw Scott raise one
eyebrow in his thoughtful face. Then Jack suddenly realized that he was trying
to use the Jedi mind trick on him. He decided to play along:

"Actually, you don't need to go to sleep."

Scott giggled and Logan shot up in his bed and looked at Scott. He waved his
hand again. "They can have some candy before bed." His look was so serious,
Jack nearly broke out laughing. But he had a little restraint left.

"Why don't you guys have some candy before bed." Logan gasped in surprise and
Scott grinned with satisfaction.

"Move along," he said, motioning to the door. Jack turned and closed the door
behind him and doubled over with a stifled laugh. He listened to the boys
chatter and Scott described the mind trick to Logan. Then Jack burst in and
said: "Gotcha!"

Scott turned around in shock and cried, "Daddy!" He wagged a finger at him and
said, "Your Jedi magic does not work on me, boy!" Jack said and reached up to
tickle Scott. He deserved something for being so clever, so later that weekend,
he bought him a Ben Kenobi figurine at Toys R Us.

Later, he and Sarah were lounging on the couch, watching some TV show or
another, after the kids had all been tucked in, and he related the story. "Ah,"
she said, "the old Jedi mind trick." She had no idea what it was - she loved
movies and books of all kinds - except science fiction. She only barely
tolerated some of the movies that he picked for them to watch.

"He's very clever," Jack said. "He retains a lot. A lot more than I would have
thought he would."

"That's pretty good for six," Sarah agreed. "But don't encourage that too much.
I'd hate to hear from a teacher that he's going up to them and saying, 'He
doesn't need to take this test,' or 'Recess should start now.'" She chuckled:
"The funniest thing is that he thought you had a weak mind."

"Laugh it up, fuzzball," Jack said, parroting another line from the movie. She
playfully kicked him and he pounced on her, pinning her down and kissing her
neck. She tacitly struggled, then stopped when he hit a sweet spot. Then she
pushed him off. "The show's back on," she said.

Jack sat back, dejected. Then he looked at her and waved his hand. "You don't
want to watch this TV show - you want to screw your husband."

She looked at him and frowned. "You think I'm weak of mind now? How insulting!"
She smirked at him and said, "Maybe later."

Jack gave up, and sat back in his seat. He looked at the TV - the show had been
her choice and he had no interest in it - and looked back at her. She was in
pajamas, light cotton with satin trim. Her long hair was divided in the back
and draped over her shoulders, the ends just touching the top of the curve of
her breasts. The top did not open up very far, but he stared for a moment at
the skin of her chest, dotted with light freckles and with a silver heart in
the center, hanging lightly from a silver chain. The shirt ended just shy of
the waistband of the pants, and he saw a long sliver of skin. She had been very
thin before the kids, and had lost most of what she gained with them, but she
retained a little extra in the belly, something he found to be quite nice. He
certainly didn't have the body he'd had in college, and it was nice to know
that they both could have their imperfections and still be sexually attracted
to each other.

His eyes tracked down to her groin, the place he alternately called "the
landing zone," "heaven," or just "down there." He reached out and touched her
leg. She shifted her body without even looking at him, and turned to put her
legs up on the middle cushion of the couch, her feet now resting on his thigh.
He gently rubbed her calves through the soft fabric, and then under it, feeling
her baby-bottom smooth skin with his finger tips.

"You can take her to bed now," he heard her say, and saw her finish a wave of
the hand.

He smirked and said, "Do you think I'm weak of mind?"

"Hoping," she said, as she started to get up. She stood and motioned him to her
with her finger. "You can take her to bed now," she said again.

"I'll take you to bed now," he said as he rose and followed her up the stairs.


Chapter 16.

Jack awoke feeling refreshed. He had some business to take care of this
morning, so he got dressed quickly and grabbed a quick bite to eat in the
lobby. He went to the front desk after he finished his donut. He refreshed his
coffee so that it was hot and steamy, just the way he liked it.

"Can I help you, sir?" the woman behind the desk asked. There was a college
nearby that taught courses in all manner of things having to do with the
hospitality industry - hotels and restaurants. Jack and Sarah had stayed there
once when her company had a Christmas party there. The kids stayed with Jack's
parents that night, and all the arrangements left Jack and Sarah with nothing
left to worry about. They had a great time, with each of them having far too
many of their favorite drinks than would have been safe if they'd been driving
home. But after they managed to get back to their room, they passed out on the
bed and slept it off. It was a great time. The staff at the school's hotel, or
Inn as they called it, was more attentive than any he'd ever stayed at. Jack
thought he recognized the woman behind the counter as one of those who had
served them that night.

"I was scheduled to check out this morning, but if it's possible, I want to
stay longer." He handed over his room key. She swiped it and called up his
record. She handed the key card back

"We should be able to accommodate you," she said. "It doesn't get really busy
until the week before Thanksgiving." She punched a few buttons and said, "When
would you like to check out."

"At least until Friday - but can you reserve it until Sunday? Would it be OK if
I check out before the reservation runs out?"

"Not a problem, sir."

"Great, until Sunday then."

She punched a few more buttons and finally said, "You're all set. I hope you
continue to enjoy your stay." She flashed him a toothy smile. Jack said, "I
hope so, too," and saw her eyes dart to the man behind him. "Can I help you,
sir?" she asked as Jack walked out the front door to his car.

On the way to work, there was an accident, and from the look of things, it was
a bad one. There were several fire trucks on the scene, though no ambulance,
not yet. He inched toward the spot where the traffic was bottlenecked from
three lanes to one. The area was a construction zone, and yesterday there had
been two sheriff's deputy cars parked on the side of the road with their lights
flashing. They must have been able to respond quickly to direct traffic around
the two cars involved. He saw that one was a small Kia, blue with a yellow
pinstripe. It looked there had been two occupants - they were both out of the
car and standing next to it. The other was a minivan, and Jack's grip tightened
when he saw a car seat through the now-opened sliding side door. It was a white
Dodge Caravan, an older model. It looked like the van had smashed into the side
of the Kia, just behind the driver's seat. The van must have been going at a
good clip because the Kia was pinned against the Jersey barrier and pretty well
squished. As he drifted by the wreck, he rubber-necked and saw someone he
presumed was the driver of the minivan. She was crying while she talked into a
cell phone. There were a half dozen firefighters milling about, wearing just
their yellow fire suits, only one wearing a helmet. One was spreading something
like kitty litter under the Kia - probably to soak up spilled gasoline, Jack
guessed.

He looked about on the ground for any sign of a child, but didn't see one. Then
he got right up beside the front of the Kia and saw a little girl, no more than
four, huddled in a gray blanket and sitting on the side of the road. He watched
as the presumed mother, the woman on the phone, closed her phone and walked
over to the girl and sat down next to her. It looked like no one was hurt -
thank goodness. Jack had only seen one other minor fender bender since Sarah's
accident, and he had gotten past it unfazed. This one, though, with a van, a
mother, and a kid ... he was shaken. He tried to rid himself of the feeling as
traffic again picked up and he drove at a more normal speed to the factory.

Later, sitting at his desk, he worked on his project. Some of the work was
tedious - he found work on graphics to almost always to be tedious - but he was
getting quite a bit done. A lot of cutting and pasting, which he had a
love/hate relationship with. Cutting and pasting could save a lot of time, but
it could also cost time. If there is a bug in a bit of code that is cut out and
then pasted into other code, it can be a bitch to fix them all. Worse, though,
was when code worked fine in one program or module, and didn't work in another.
Too often, it seemed, the problem could be tracked back to cut-and-paste code.
He was modifying a bit of code he'd just pasted into his editor when Tracie
appeared at his door.

"Jack, got a minute?" she asked.

Jack held up a finger to signal her that he'd be free in a moment, and then
pointed to the chair in front of his desk. Tracie came in, shut the door behind
her, and sat down. Jack was a little surprised that she shut the door - there
was rarely anything going on that required privacy. He quickly scanned the
block of code and made two more changes and saved his file. After ensuring that
it saved without error, he looked over at Tracie.

She was not a typical programmer. The fact that she was a woman was unusual in
itself, at least in his experience. In his twelve years in the division, he'd
only worked with six women, but with dozens of men. He had read that more and
more women were making their way into IT, but he thought that perhaps the memo
hadn't hit IBM just yet; or, at least, his factory. No, more unusual than that
was that she was stunningly beautiful. Vickie was a good looking woman, but
Tracie was a quantum leap above her, at least from Jack's point of view. Of
course, beauty is relative and subjective, but he thought most would agree
about Tracie. The other four women he had worked with had run the gamut, with
one coming in dead last in the looks category and the rest about the same as
Vickie - pretty, but not remarkable. That said nothing of their skills, of
course. When the time came, Jack gave them all the glowing review that they had
earned. When that time came, Jack would be very sorry to see Tracie to go, not
only for purely testosterone-based reasons but also because she was just a
damned good programmer.

But, her gender, physical beauty, and skills were not the most unusual things.
Tracie was black, and that set her apart most obviously. Jack knew that people
of color were no surprise in IBM in general and in this plant specifically.
Ganesh, of course, was of Indian origin. But Jack had worked with fewer black
people in his career than with women. Tracie was only the fourth. The fact was,
Vermont was a white state and did not attract many blacks.

Jack had looked at Tracie with a man's eye many times, but he was always very
careful to not push that too far. For one thing, the most important thing, he
was married. For another, he had seen was sexual tension could do to an office.
Bryan had been stuck in this division against his will for at least an extra
year because the next level of management did not trust him after his little
affair with the manager of another division. That was one time in particular
that Jack was happy not to be in management.

Today she was dressed as casually as he was - she had on relaxed-fit jeans and
a red t-shirt that had a heart made out of sequins on the front. She crossed
her legs and he saw that she was wearing red Crocs to offset the red shirt. He
rested his elbow on his desk and his chin in his hand and indicated the door
with his other hand. "What's up?"

"Jack," she started, "I know that you've had your hands full, so I haven't
wanted to bother you with this before, but I think it is a big problem and I'm
much more comfortable talking with you about it than with Ganesh." Jack hoped
she would elaborate on why that was later, but she continued. "I just can't
hold off any more."

He could see that she was concerned, so he pulled up closer to his desk and
looked her square in the eye. "You can tell me, Tracie."

She sighed. "I know I can Jack, you're a good guy to have on your side. Look,
this is nothing to do with work, per se. It doesn't even have to do with me.
But I think it could affect this team, and I know you think of this team like a
personal project. I don't want that to be jeopardized."

"Tracie, what's going on?"

"It's Bryan, Jack. I tried to tell you yesterday, but there wasn't time, wasn't
privacy. Vickie said to sleep on it and talk to you today if I thought I
should, and I do."

"What about Bryan?"

"He's sleeping with Lydia."

"There's no policy against that."

"No, thankfully for him. He's tried to bed every woman in this building. His
only saving grace is that he takes no for an answer."

"So you're not afraid that he'll be accused of sexual harassment or something?"

"No, no. He asked me out, and I told him I was seeing someone, and he never
asked again, never made me feel uncomfortable. I don't think anyone has
anything to fear from him."

"OK, so..."

"So, I'm not sure I can say the same about Lydia. Look, when she became a
manager in her division, I was excited. You know there aren't many women in
management in the technical divisions. Having her there brought a ray of hope I
had not felt before. So Vickie and I asked her out to congratulate her, to pick
her brain a bit. To get in her good graces in case it might ever help move up
or over to somewhere else."

"Smart thinking," he told her. He knew that men did the same kind of
networking, it should work the same for the women in the company.

"Well, we got to know her better alright. We went out for drinks, and within an
hour, Vickie pulled me aside and told me she wasn't getting a good vibe for
her."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know exactly - you can ask her, but I'm not sure it matters. The point
is, I didn't feel it, so when Vickie excused herself early, Lydia and I stayed
at the table and chatted over the music. I think she had one too many and she
got very loose-lipped. She started to talk about some old boyfriends of hers, a
husband she'd had once, stuff like that. She told me she once slept with a guy
that she thought insulted her, and told his wife, just to get back at him. One
other guy she destroyed financially by charging up gifts for herself on a
credit card." Tracie tightened up and shook her upper body - despite the topic
of conversation, Jack could not help but notice that as she did so, she
squeezed her breasts together and created a canyon of ebony cleavage that he
felt compelled to look at. Fortunately, she didn't notice his stare. "She's not
a nice woman. I'm civil with her, I even went out with her again, but I found
excuses not to and after a while she stopped asking."

"This is all very interesting, but I'm not following how this is a problem,
Trace."

"Bryan told Ty, who told Vickie, that he is planning on dumping Lydia. You know
him - there are fruit flies with longer lifespans than most of his
relationships. But most of those girls don't work here or are just as ready to
get rid of Bryan as he is to get rid of them. Lydia, though - she stopped me in
the coffee room the other day and told me they were seeing each other, and she
said he might be 'The One.' I chuckled at the time because I didn't see him as
anyone's 'One.' But she was serious. I think if he breaks it off with her, she
is going to retaliate. And since he's just a peon like us and she's a manager,
she could make things hard on him, and hard on our division."

He sat for a moment, thinking. He wasn't sure what to do. A month ago, he would
have had Tracie leave and he would have called Sarah for advice, but now...

"You forgot about me already?" he heard Sarah say. She was sitting next to
Tracie.

"Of course not," Jack said, realizing that he was still thinking, but thinking
in the context of his experience with Sarah. "You're like my own personal
Number Six."

She chuckled and with that he knew for sure that she was a figment of his
imagination - Sarah had no idea who Number Six was in real life. But this one
did: "I can wear a red dress if you like."

"No, no, this is strange enough as it is, Sarah."

"So this is Tracie." The two had never met, but Jack had talked about Tracie,
as he did all his co-workers. She made a quick pouty face. "Her boobs are
better than mine." Sarah had never had a problem with her own breasts - this
Sarah's seeming obsession was obviously coming from Jack. He would never have
denied, not to himself or Sarah anyway, that he had a thing for breasts. Of
course, that put him in league with ninety percent of the male population.

Ignoring her, he said, "So, what do you think?"

"Well," Sarah said, "Bryan is a cad, as they used to say. A dick, as we say
these days. He deserves a good smack-down. But this Lydia chica, she sounds
nutty, and it could bite this division and you."

"He had his ass handed to him because of a fling he had with another manager
last year. This could be the end of his career here, if Lydia puts up a stink.
I think he has a lot to learn about people - but he is a good programmer in
spite of that. Besides, I have no idea what kind of crap it could cause for the
division. Maybe nothing. But I'd rather not find out."

"Talk to Bryan," she concluded. "Maybe what she thinks his plans are are not
his plans at all."

"I'll do that," he said.

"Do what?" asked Tracie.

"Sorry," he said to her. "I was thinking out loud. Let me think on this a bit
more. I appreciate you bringing it to me."

She leaned forward and put her hand on his, much the way Laura had the night
before. Her thumb rubbed the back of his hand. "Jack, I hate to dump this on
you. But I love this division. You have been a terrific mentor to me. I thought
I owed it to you." She patted his hand and rose. "Let me know if I can do
anything."

"I will," he said and she opened the door. He watched her walk away and saw
Vickie in her cube, looking at her, then to him, then back to her screen. Talk
to Bryan. He turned back to his screen to pick up where he'd left off - some of
his best thinking was done while coding. But as he turned, his phone rang.

"This is Jack," he said.

"Jack. This is Laura." Her voice made him sit up a bit taller. He still felt
where Tracie had held his hand and he imagined that the hand had been Laura's.

"Hi Laura," he said. "What's up?"

"I've been going over the papers again, and I had the police fax over a copy of
their report."

"I gave you the report, didn't I?"

"Yes, but that was the preliminary report, the one taken on the scene. There's
more."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I don't want to hold you in suspense, but I'd like to discuss it with you
in person. Can you meet me for lunch? Somewhere in the middle between you and
I?"

He agreed and they agreed on a small sandwich shop nestled in the the corner of
a large strip mall. It was known for its soups, salads, and sandwiches. They
would meet at eleven thirty - she had another meeting at one o'clock that
should could not be late for. After he hung up, Jack looked at the clock. It
was ten thirty already. He would wait to talk to Bryan until after lunch,
giving him time to think.


Chapter 17.

Jack drove up to the sandwich shop a few minutes before he was scheduled to
arrive. There was ample parking so he picked a spot several rows away from the
entrance. He had planned on being early so that he could watch Laura from the
window as she arrived. The shop only had six tables, so he sat at one of the
two person tables to reserve it for them, and put his jacket on the chair
facing the window. He stared out the window and remembered a time that he and
Amy went out for a lunch at a similar shop.

"I don't know what I want, Daddy." She was going through a phase where she
liked to try new things, as long as they weren't too different. She liked
chicken noodle soup and would eat a beef soup, but not a chowder; she liked
turkey sandwiches, mayo only, and would try a roast beef with mayo, but not
turkey on wheat. She was debating between a salad, with either ranch dressing
or creamy Italian (but not French or bleu cheese) and a sandwich of one kind or
another. Jack had decided, more or less before he even walked into the shop, so
he was totally waiting on her. He decided to prompt her: "How about if you get
a salad, and eat the whole thing, you can have a cookie afterwards?"

Her eyes brightened up. Like any kid, she liked the sweets more than anything
else, almost as if sugar were its own food group, and the top of the food
pyramid didn't mean "use least" but instead "most important." "OK," she said,
"but I won't eat tomatoes."

"I know," he said. "Ranch or Italian." She looked at the ceiling as if the
answer were there, and said, "Ranch. Can't go wrong with ranch. Right Daddy?"

"Right, darling." He placed the order, getting himself a six inch turkey and
bacon on wheat with mayo, lettuce, tomato, and hot peppers. He also ordered
fountain drinks for both of them. He brought everything back to the table and
handed Amy her cup.

"Daddy, I wanted a bottle!" The kids always wanted a bottle, but he was trying
to teach them some consumer skills. "I've told you before, honey - fountain
drinks whenever possible. They're cheaper and you get free refills. Remember?"

She sighed, picked up the cup, and got up to go to the fountain. "I know, free
refills rule the world." She rolled her eyes and he laughed in spite of
himself.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash - it was Laura arriving in her
bright yellow Volkswagen Bug. She stepped out of the car, her red hair pulled
back into a bun at the back of her head. It gave her a starker look than she'd
had yesterday, but she was still a sight for his sore eyes. She saw him through
the window and flashed him a smile and a wave. She came into the shop and
unzipped her North Face jacket and pulled off a pair of light fleece gloves.
Under the jacket, she wore a cream colored blouse, tucked neatly into a pair of
brown pants, pleated in the front and with a wide brown belt. He imagined that
the outfit was finished with a pair of black shoes of some kind, but right now
she wore a pair of low-rise boots with the pant legs tucked in so she would not
step on them. Though there was no snow in the forecast, Jack knew that women's
dress shoes were built for style and not for warmth. No doubt, like Sarah had,
she changed into running shoes or these boots any time she had to walk any
where, especially in the fall and winter.

"Hey, Jack," she said. "Good to see you. Did you order yet?"

"No," he said. "I waited for you. I'm buying this time - what would you like?"

"I save my big meal for dinners, so I'll just have a salad. Ranch dressing."

Jack was taken aback for a short moment but she didn't notice as she took her
seat at the table. He recovered quickly - but if she said anything about
tomatoes, he'd shit his pants. "Any chips? Drink?"

"How about a small bag of the plain chips, and just get me a fountain drink and
I'll pick."

He walked over to the counter, placed their order, and brought their chips and
drink cups to the table. He handed the empty cup to Laura. "Thanks - I always
prefer fountain to bottle," she said. She rose and filled her cup with ice and
then Diet Coke. Jack did the same. He brought her a cap and straw and they both
sat down. "They'll bring our food when it is ready," Jack said.

"OK, let's go over what I found out while we wait. The insurance company was
smart to offer what they did. They did low-ball the amounts for the kids and
your wife, but they were right to offer an extra two times for negligence." She
sipped her drink and looked at him. "This talk about money can seem very cold.
I don't mean to sound crass or to to be insensitive, so if you need to go
slower or even stop, just let me know."

"Thanks, Laura. I understand, and I think I can separate the emotional from the
financial. I think."

She looked at him with a bit of concern in her eyes, and was about to start
again when she pulled away from the table. "Food's here," she said. The server
placed the salad in front of Sarah and the sandwich on front of Jack. She
looked at the bowl, with the egg, green pepper, snow peas, and tomatoes, on
top. "Oh, yuck," she said and Jack watched as she picked up her fork and got
ready to pick something off. If she picks off the tomatoes... but she didn't -
she picked off the egg slices. "I don't like egg on salad," she said to him.
"Do you want them?"

"No thanks," he said. "I like eggs, but not hard boiled."

"Me, too." She placed the last of the eggs on a napkin and started again. "OK,
so let me finish this first. The treble damages is pretty standard, but only in
some cases. The amount they assigned each was on the low end of the actuarial
tables. I think we can bring those up one hundred percent for both the kids and
Sarah."

"Wow. I do feel strange feeling good about that."

"I know, Jack. You're a good man." At that, she placed her hand on his as she
had the night before. "But this is about what was done to you and not how much
your family is worth. I know it can be hard to separate that from this
discussion."

"I know, Laura, and thank you." She squeezed his hand and removed hers. He
wasn't sure if he could or should read anything into the personal touch or not,
but he decided that prudence dictated that he think nothing of it - just yet.

"So, I told you before that there was more to the police report than you
originally had. Most notably, the driver was not only far exceeding the speed
limit, as you already know, he was on a road where heavy trucks had a speed
limit of five miles an hour slower than normal traffic."

"I didn't know that."

"It is posted, according to the report, and truck drivers know. Worse, though -
he was drunk."

Jack put down his sandwich and banged the table lightly with his fist.
"Bastard!" he said to no one in particular. It is one thing to die because of
an accident, another to die as a result of an accident that could have been
lessened or avoided if the driver had not been speeding. But to die because
some idiot had had a few brewskis with his buds on a job site, was inexcusable,
unforgivable.

Again Laura's hand rested on his. "I know, Jack. The autopsy showed that his
blood alcohol was fifty percent over the limit. The police report says that
they found out that he had four beers with lunch that day."

"Jesus," he said and felt her hand squeeze his again. He turned his hand over
and grabbed hers in his. She hesitated for a moment, then continued. "That
should mean that I should be able to get you four times the base, but I'll ask
for five. If you took it to court, it is conceivable you could get ten."

"I don't want to go to court," he said. He squeezed her hand, then released it
and rubbed his hands through his hair. "What's the number, then?"

"No guarantees, you understand, but I think at least a million, probably one
point four million, and maybe as much as one point seven five. All you need to
do is give me the go-ahead and I'll contact the insurance company and start
negotiations."

"I could do some real good with that kind of money. A scholarship or a grant or
something like that."

She smiled. "I like the way you think, Jack. Do it, then?"

"Yes, do it."

"Good. I will. I think it is the right decision."

Jack took a bite and chewed it down. "It will be good for you," he said. Laura
looked hurt. "Oh, Laura - I don't mean anything by that. Your efforts may allow
me to do some extraordinary things with this money, things my wife and kids
would be proud of. I only mean that you earned it."

"OK - I just don't want you to think that the commission is the only reason I
did all this." She wiped her mouth with her napkin. "I don't know what it is,
Jack, I can't explain it, but I like you. If you thought any less of me because
of this, it would be devastating."

"Laura." He took both of her hands in his and looked her square in the eye. "I
don't think any less of you because of this. If you pull this off, you will
have earned every penny and my undying thanks." He paused and rubbed his thumbs
over the backs of her hands and then squeezed them. "Frankly, I like you, too,
in a way I never expected to happen. I don't want you to think anything
different."

Jack continued to look into her eyes, his dark green burning into her dark
brown, and something passed between them. They both felt it, but neither would
have been able to explain it. He held her hands for another few moments, then
released them. He sipped his soda and took a bite of his sandwich. She sat
there watching him for a moment, then took a bite of her salad. She rubbed her
forehead, not quite sure what had happened here in this small sandwich shop,
but not unhappy about any of it.

Jack saw Sarah standing behind Laura. She was wearing a blue dress that pushed
her cleavage severely together and her breasts forced up by some unseen under
wire. She wore sheer black stockings and had a curl to her hair. "I think she's
a keeper, Jack," she said. He looked back at Laura as she took the last bite of
her salad. She finished chewing and took a sip of her drink. "Well, I have to
go, Jack. I will fax them something this afternoon. It may take a few weeks
before I hear something, but you never know." She stood and pulled on her
jacket and gloves. "I'll call you later, OK?"

"You better," he said, and smiled at her. She smiled back, looked at him for a
moment and turned to leave. She turned back for a second and said, "Jack..."

"Something else?"

She paused, looked ready to say something, and then thought better of it. Then
she said, "Don't forget to vote today."

"I won't. See you later Laura."

"Bye, Jack."

He watched her ass as she walked out the door and to her car. He watched her as
she got her keys in and turned the engine over. He watched her as she pulled
out and saw her glance over at him one last time. He couldn't get over the
feelings he was feeling. He thought that how he felt last night was a fluke,
but this meeting did nothing but reinforce what he felt last night.

He wondered if lightning could strike twice.


Chapter 18.

After Jack finished his lunch and cleaned up their table, he headed back to
work. He tried to put Laura out of his mind and instead thought about how he
would discuss Tracie's concerns with Bryan. He knew about the personal lives of
his co-workers insofar as they shared them. He knew that Frank had a wife and
three kids, he knew that Ty lived with his girlfriend, and that she was what
Amy would have called "a goth," preferring black to any other color and with
multiple ear piercings and, as Ty had told him, piercings in other places.
"TMI," Jack had told Ty when he started to get into details. Vickie had two
children with an ex-husband, an ex she obviously did not like. She had
mentioned her ex in unflattering terms many times, even using the nickname
"needle-dick" for him several times. Jack found it amusing, but also tedious,
and several times he had had to ask her to tone down her tirades against him.
Jack didn't even know Needle Dick's real name. Tracie had a daughter, about
three years old now, but never mentioned the father.

Bryan, though, was not exactly discrete in his conversations about his
relationships. Well, he was, about whomever he was currently seeing. But he
always had a story to tell about sexual exploits with women he had dated
before. Tracie's revelation to him had been the first he'd heard of Bryan and
Lydia. Jack knew of Lydia, but since her division and his had no direct
contact, he had not worked with her before. He suspected Ganesh knew her,
though, from management meetings if nothing else, and so thought he understood
Tracie's reluctance to talk to Ganesh directly.

Jack decided, as he walked from his car to the office, that the best thing
would just be to invite Bryan into his office and bring it up directly. He
walked by Bryan's cube and he was not there. His screen saver, set to kick off
at five minutes, corporate standard, was not running, so he couldn't be far.
Jack dropped his jacket off in his office and went to the bathroom to rid
himself of the two cups of soda he had drunk with lunch. He pushed the door
open and walked in. The bathroom had recently been "improved" with a small
battery-operated air freshener, and for the past couple of days, it had been
squirting a peppermint scent into the air - almost a candy-cane smell. The week
before it had been orange, and he much preferred that. He wondered off hand, as
he often did, what scent they had put in the women's room. He rounded the
corner that blocked the view of the urinals from the door and saw Bryan
standing in front of one of them. Jack pulled up next to him, unzipped, and
held himself out. He stared straight ahead, as did Bryan.

Jack often felt awkward in this position. At least in many restaurants and
movie theaters, newspapers or advertisements were installed above urinals,
giving one something to do other than stare at yourself, stare at the wall, or
try to check out the guy next to you. Jack had checked out Bryan long ago and
didn't need to look again to know that, flaccid at least, Bryan was
better-endowed than he. Bryan shook himself, stuffed himself, and zipped up.
After flushing, he turned to the sinks and turned on the water. Jack heard him
shake the excess water off his hands and just as he was finishing up, he heard
Bryan get paper towels from the dispenser. After he finished, Jack walked over
to the sink and glanced over at Bryan, who seemed to be thinking about
something, deciding something. Finally, he said, "Jack, can I talk to you in
your office after you're done here?"

Trying not to look surprised that Bryan had asked the same question he had
planned to ask, he said, "Sure," as nonchalantly as he could muster.

"I'll meet you there, then, K?" Bryan asked.

"I'll be right behind you," Jack said as he shut off the water and moved to the
towels. Bryan left the room and Jack let out a giant sigh. Now what, he thought
to himself. Jack straightened his shirt and left the peppermint room to
confront Bryan in his office.

When he walked in, Bryan was already sitting across from his desk. He was
nervously bouncing his leg and looked up at Jack as he walked in. "Should I
shut the door?" Jack asked as he crossed the threshold. "Please," Bryan
replied, and Jack shut it behind him. Jack sat down and looked at Bryan. He had
light brown hair, which had obviously been colored to streak it with near-blond
strands. He was lightly tanned and wore a cream-colored linen shirt, untucked,
over his jeans. He was muscular and thin, the antithesis of the stereotypical
programmer. Then again, none of the programmers in this division matched the
stereotype.

"So, what's up?" Jack asked.

"Jack, I need some advice. Non-work stuff."

"OK."

"You're probably going to think I'm an idiot, but you may already have heard:
I'm seeing Lydia, a manager in the division down the hall."

"I had heard."

"I'm not surprised," he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. "After
that thing with Eileen last year, and the fall out, I knew I should avoid Lydia
the very first time I saw her, but you know my reputation."

"Office slut?"

Bryan chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I deserve that. Well, here's the thing. I always
had the best intentions with all those women. Well, mostly - there were a few
that I meant to be one night stands and that's all they were. But all those
women - I was looking for something and never found it. It could be I gave up
too early, but most of the time, I was sure. I'm insecure, Jack."

"You?"

"Yes. I know what you're thinking, because I work hard to keep in shape and
keep up in fashion, but I'm over compensating and I know it."

"So, you're seeing Lydia, and suddenly you realize she's missing something, and
you want to break it off..."

"No!" Bryan interrupted and smiled. "That's just it!"

"What is it?"

"I think Lydia is just what I've been looking for, Jack. I've never felt about
another girl, another woman, like I do with her. I think she's The One." He put
the same emphasis on the words Tracie had earlier.

"Oh." He was suddenly confused about where Tracie got her information. But then
he realized it came from Ty, and if there could be a misunderstanding, it would
make sense that it came from him. "So - how can I help you?"

"Well, first I wanted to be sure you knew. You saved my ass after that Eileen
thing. I could have been fired."

"You nearly were."

"I know. So I wanted to tell you myself, though it sounds like the rumor mill
had already gotten around to you. But more than that, I wanted to ask you
something else." Jack raised his eyebrows, indicating Bryan should go on.
"Well, this is awkward, considering, but Jack, how did you know that Sarah was
the one."

He understood Bryan's reticence. They're looking out for him again. If Bryan is
insecure, he probably didn't want to ask this question last week lest he seem
uncaring. Jack thought he would have answered the same, but maybe not. He
mulled the question over for a moment, thinking back to the bagel shop, but
that was not when he knew. "I knew," he said, "when Sarah basically demanded
that I make love to her."

Bryan smiled, sat back, and held his hand to his mouth, obviously interested in
the rest of the story. Jack imagined Sarah's fingers in his mouth; imagined the
excitement of the moment he first held her breast; the feeling of her hand on
his, pushing him down between her legs; the way she tasted; and the way she
tasted him. The way they'd talked in the bagel shop, the way they talked after
he first asked her out, the way he felt with her sitting next to him in a
restaurant or a movie theater - those had planted the seed in his head. The sex
had added one of the last pieces to the puzzle, and the way they meshed after
that had glued it all into place.

"I had a plan," Jack finally said, "to ask to take her to bed on our fifth
date. I kept the plan to myself, of course. But we got to our third date and
she asked me when I was going to have sex with her. She was so honest with me
about how she felt and her needs, and that night we were perfect with each
other. And I knew."

"Did you have any doubt?"

"Not at that moment, but over time, I thought about it more critically, and
after all that I came to the same conclusion."

He gestured with both hands: "That's how I feel! I thought she was the one, but
then doubted myself, almost on purpose, and in the end still realized the same
thing." Bryan let out a huge breath and said, "That makes me feel a lot better,
Jack, you have no idea."

"I'm glad you feel better, glad I could help. Take your time, be good to her,
and see where it goes. It will work itself out."

"Thanks, Jack." He rose and put his hand on the door, then turned to him. "It
is an awesome feeling, isn't it?"

Jack nodded and Bryan left.

Was he feeling that again, was lightning actually striking again? So soon? He
barely knew Laura, but that feeling that he remembered so vividly with Sarah
was the same feeling he was starting to have with Laura. He'd have to talk to
Kate about it.


Chapter 19.

Jack drove from work straight to the school. He had not been to the school at
all since the accident. It was out of his way for just about anything he needed
to do in town, and far, far out of his way from the hotel. But the school was
where the polling place was.

The wavers were out in force. He drove by several groups trying to get the last
minute voters to go their way. He didn't see any of the candidates out waving,
not tonight at least. He imagined they were all getting to their respective
party's hotel conference rooms or ball rooms where they would give concession
speeches or victory speeches, depending on the outcome of their race. It had
been at times a contentious campaign, but also a quiet one. Many of the
candidates in statewide races had pledged to keep it clean, and for the most
part they had. The U.S. Senate race, however, had been the most expensive one
in state history, as a political unknown tried to unseat a political legend in
the state. Most polls said that the money would be wasted, as the state was a
blue one, Democratic, and the newcomer was a Republican. Oddly, though, the
legend was legendary in no small part because he was an independent, rejecting
any party label, even that of the third party he had helped form.

Jack had been following the races before the accident - the kids would have
voted today, too, in mock elections designed to get them into the habit. But
since the accident, he had paid little attention. He had other, more pressing
matters to deal with. Plus he had made up his mind already.

Jack drove by the maple tree, still standing but marked for destruction as the
impact of the van and the truck had compromised its strength. He tried not to
look at it, but the bright orange paint shone through the darkness and he
couldn't help it. He mourned even for the tree. He quickly got past the tree
and drove into the school parking lot.

The crowd was lighter than it had been two years ago, but that had been a
presidential year. But still, the crowd was here, thicker than he recalled from
four years ago. The buzz around the country was that the election would be a
referendum on the President and the war in Iraq. Jack was no fan of war, not
with two sons who could be, or rather, could have been, called up some day. He
was no fan of Saddam Hussein, but had his ouster been worth all those lives?
But the President seemed hell-bent to keep on keeping on, to "stay the course,"
as he had said. Maybe the people felt he needed a kick in the ass.

He only had to wait in line about ninety seconds, and then he gave his name to
the poll worker and got his ballots. You did not register in a party in
Vermont, but he considered himself a Democrat with conservative leanings. That
is, he was liberal on social policy but conservative on fiscal policy. To that
end, he gave his vote to the independent candidate for the Senate and the
Democrat for the House. He gave his vote to all Democrats for the state
legislature, except for one Republican he liked personally; and he voted for
the Republican governor. Vermonters have a tradition of ticket splitting, and
he figured who was he to break with such a tradition. He checked all of his
marks and slid the ballot into the reader. His civic duty done, he got back
into his SUV and drove away.

He recalled the first time he and Sarah talked politics.

"What are your leanings?" she asked one day when they were on a drive to an
amusement park.

"Leanings?" he asked, unsure what she meant.

"Political leanings. Who do you vote for?"

"Well, I'm not very political one way or the other." He glanced at her for a
moment and saw her brow furrow. They had been going out for six months now, and
he knew that look. It was the "is he kidding?" look. "I always vote," he said,
reassuring her. "I have that sense of civic duty. But I don't always vote for
either party religiously. It all depends on the election, on the issues."

"That makes sense," she said. "Just so you know, I'm a Democrat. I started out
a Republican when I was in high school, but then I started to pay attention as
I started taking more classes in history and current events. Then I got an
interest in the law and studied them even more closely. I couldn't be a
Republican any more."

"I voted for Clinton, both times," he said. "But I've voted for Republicans,
too. And independents. I voted for Bernie."

"I can live with that," she said, and held his hand. He felt like he'd passed
another test, and was satisfied.

He was almost to the hotel when his phone rang. It was Kate.

"Hey," he said into the phone.

"Hi, Jack. I got your message. What's up?"

He had called her at the office just before he left work for the day. He
decided later it had been a stalling tactic to avoid driving by the school,
because if she'd been in, he would have talked this through with her over the
phone. But she hadn't been, so he just left a message. "I have some things to
talk to you about. I need your expert opinion."

"I'm free Thursday from one thirty to two fifteen," she said. Then she laughed
into the phone.

"Very funny," he said. The first time she'd tried that on him, he'd gone
through all the motions of making an appointment with her before she let on
that she was kidding.

"That joke never gets old," she said still chuckling.

"Yeah, for you maybe, for me, not so much."

"OK, OK," she said. "Do you want me to come to your hotel?"

"No, it is too ... hotelly. How about I come to your place."

"That's fine. How about seven. We can watch election returns afterwards."

"Oh, joy," he said. "Seven it is."

He hung up with Kate and pulled into the hotel parking lot. He went up to his
room and pulled his shoes off and sat on the bed. He reflected on his day. His
time with Laura had been electric, especially if you separated the business
from the pleasure. He was not sure what he really felt about the settlement,
but visions of philanthropy flashed through his head. He imagined Laura sitting
across from him, her eyes appearing so bright to him, yet so deep. He imagined
her hand on his, he imagined himself grasping her hand, how warm she felt, how
good it felt to hold a woman that way. He thought about Bryan and how he
brought up those thoughts, again, of his and Sarah's first time together.

"I'm sorry this is so hard for you, sweetie," he heard Sarah say.

"It's OK, Daddy," he heard Amy say.

"Why is Daddy sad?" he heard Logan ask.

"Want to play, Daddy?" he heard Scott say.

He buried his eyes into his palm and cried. For the first time since the
funeral, he sobbed and let his emotions take control.


Chapter 20.

Jack stopped at Burger King on his way to Kate's house. He liked the Whopper
the best. He definitely thought McDonald's had the best fries, but the Whopper
was better than a Big Mac or Quarter Pounder any day. Though he could have it
"his way," he always got the standard Whopper. He liked it best that way. He
ate the burger in the car, staring out the window at the traffic going by. He
wasn't sure what he was going to say to Kate. It was the sort of thing you
never thought about, losing your family. Sure, he had insurance on the kids,
but that was just because it was cheap and easy through the program at work. He
bit into the Whopper and hit his thigh with his fist.

"Jack," Sarah whispered from beside him.

"Sarah, how can I make sense of this? How can I move on if I'm so conflicted."

"Jack," she said, and placed her hand on his knee. "You're human, as flawed as
any of us - as flawed as I am."

"Was," he corrected.

"Was. Even our babies were flawed. Amy was moody, Logan had that lisp, and
Scott couldn't sit still for more than three minutes at a time. But it is not a
flaw to grieve your family, sweetie. It is also not a flaw to need
companionship."

He sighed. "You're just me telling me this," he said.

"Maybe - but you know that I would have told you the same thing. Think, Jack -
what would you have told me if it had been you driving. Would you have told me
that I could never feel again. Would you tell me to turn into a spinster?"

"Of course not. I know, you're right."

"You can't just take my word for it, though. I am just you, after all."

"Right. You're me." He chuckled. "You, we, were wrong about Bryan, you know."

"Oh?"

"You said he was a cad, and that he probably was going to dump Lydia. That's
not it at all."

"Oh, that," she said and make a "oh well" face. "Bryan is a dick, but even
dicks can fall in love, finally. Is Lydia really his 'The One'?" Sarah made air
quotes around "The One."

Jack sat back into his seat. "I don't know. He thinks so." He looked at Sarah -
the light from the street lamp was illuminating her from behind. "So you're
really me?"

"Yes, and no." She looked at him and saw him grinning. "What?"

"Can I feel me up?" He chuckled again. She smiled, and faded away. Jack
finished his Whopper.

He saved his fries for the drive to Kate's house. Her house was just a condo,
actually. He parked in a guest space and walked up to her door. He checked his
watch - he was a few minutes early, but knocked anyway. He heard "Just a sec"
from inside, and a moment later, Jack's sister opened the door and greeted him.
"Come in, Jack."

"Thanks for having me over, Kate."

"Any time, Jack," she said and lead him into her small living room. Her condo
had two stories, with a living room and kitchen on the first floor and two
bedrooms on the second. He and Ben and their families had all come over to help
her move in when she arrived back in town, so he had ascended and descended the
stairs dozens of times that day. Since then, though, he had only been here a
few times, with them meeting mostly for drinks after work, at his house, or at
their parents' house. In any case, this was the first time the two of them had
been alone in this room.

"Let me get us some water, Jack. It helps."

He watched Kate as she left the room. She was obviously in for the night,
wearing sweatpants and sweatshirt, the latter with a stick figure on the front
and the words "Life is Good" emblazoned above the figure. Her hair was in a
ponytail and she wore white ankle socks. He didn't live with her much when she
was young, but he remembered her always wearing socks, even when she was ten,
always complaining about how cold her toes were. Looking around, the room
looked lived in, settled. She had a small gas fireplace in the center of one
wall, and a collection of framed family photos on the mantle. One of him and
Sarah was between one of their parents and one of Ben and Candy. A larger photo
of the three siblings sat on one end. She had very bright, colorful, almost
abstract prints on her walls. They were, he thought, close-ups of flowers,
perhaps digitally altered. The contrasted starkly with the white of the walls.
He sat on a soft couch with a coffee table in front, possible mahogany. A pair
of matching chairs sat to each side. He found it odd that the room had no TV,
but he knew that Kate was not the couch potato he was.

Kate walked back in carrying a small tray with a clear glass pitcher of water
and two tumblers. She placed the tray on the coffee table and filled both
glasses. She sat on the couch across from him and looked at him. "Your eyes are
red, Jack."

"I had a good cry earlier. They're still red? That was almost two hours ago."

"Crying is good, Jack. But I know you didn't ask to come here to tell me that."
She reached down and picked up her glass, and took a sip. "Are you here for a
sister or for an analyst?"

"Same thing, so I hear." He smiled and picked up his own glass. He took a sip
and saw that she was waiting for him. "I dunno, Kate, I just don't know what to
do, or even how to feel. I should be grieving, and I am ... but I'm feeling
something else, something unexpected. A few things, actually."

"Do tell."

"Well, I talked to Pam, your lawyer, and she put me in touch with Laura, a
lawyer in her firm who specializes in these things."

"What things?"

"Sorry - insurance settlements, liability, that kind of stuff. Ben was handling
it for me, and he can add up numbers fine, but he's not a lawyer. So, I gave
all the paper work to Laura. The driver's insurance company was offering about
a half a million for the accident."

"Doesn't seem right, to put a dollar amount on a life."

"Well, I agree, but money is all we have - if they could bring them back
instead, I'd take it."

"Of course."

"Anyway," he said, waving the thought of resurrection away from him, "I met
with Laura and she thought she could get more. I met with her today, and she is
confident she can get between a million and one point seven million dollars.
She thought I could get more if I took them to court, but I nixed that idea."

"Wow, Jack - that's a life-changing amount of money."

"I know. Sarah and I used to talk about a windfall like that, and all the ideas
we ever had involved the two of us doing something outrageous or extravagant. I
never thought how I could spend it on my own."

"Have you thought about it now?"

"I would want to do something for people - students in Amy's graduating class,
or the boys'. Or a grant or scholarship for pre-law or human resource students
in Sarah's name. Or I could tear down the park down the road from mom and dad's
place and build a brand new, state of the art playground for the neighborhood
kids. I have a lot of ideas."

"Those all sound good. So what's the problem?"

He sighed and sipped his water. "I have a hard time separating what I'm feeling
about this money from what I think I should be feeling."

"How should you be feeling?" she prompted.

"I should hate it. It is blood money. You know why Laura thinks she can get so
much more?" She shook her head. "The driver was drunk-ass wasted. He had a four
beer lunch and then took that RV-sized wrecker out for a veritable joyride. The
only reason I will have any money at all is because that fucker killed them."

"So you said that's how you should be feeling - seems to me you are feeling
that way."

"I guess so. But at the same time, I am thinking about having all this money.
Money, money, money! I feel disgusted with myself."

"Jack. What was your first thought when you heard about this money?"

"How I can spend it." He shook his head, disgusted with himself.

"Jack, I'd slap you across the face if that was what you were really doing." He
looked up at her sharply, half-expecting her to actually slap him. "But listen
to yourself. Are you picking out flat screen TVs and planning a trip to the
Virgin Islands? No - you're thinking of ways you can use your family's name in
a way that can help people. Now, I'm not saying that if you buy a flat screen
TV you should feel sudden incapacitating guilt. But your first thoughts were
pure, they honored them. You're honoring them with this money."

He sat in silence for a minute. He knew she was right. She spoke again: "That's
the settlement money. You had regular policies, right?"

He nodded. "Yes, she had insurance through work, and I had some on her, and she
had a little extra on the side, and we both had small policies on the kids."

"How will you use that?"

"I'll pay off the house. That was the plan for that money, but I always assumed
it would be my policies paying them. Pay off the house, pay for college."

"I would do that, then. Stick with your plan."

"Yeah, Sarah told me I had to live there."

Kate sat still for a moment, then said, "Sarah told you that?"

He looked at her. She'd gone from sister to psychologist fast enough to make
your head spin. "I've seen Sarah and the kids, many times since the accident.
Mostly in memories, but I've seen them in new memories, conversations. I'm not
going nuts, though, I don't talk out loud to Sarah, I just imagine how she
might react to certain situations and I think them through with her there to
help me along."

"I see," she said in a way that made him think she didn't.

"Some of you has rubbed off on me - I know the Sarah I see is not real. It is
basically me. I'm using her, an avatar of her, to examine these things."

"Coping mechanism," she said as she nodded. "I think that's good, as long as
you don't think she really is there."

"No. But that's a good segue into where my second issue comes in." He settled
in and she indicated he should continue. "I'm starting to act like I'm not
married any more."

"How do you mean?"

"I've been noticing women more than I have for a long time. I've always been a
looker, grabbing peeks at breasts or butts or legs."

"I know, Sarah told me."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I found out long ago that I couldn't hide that from her."

"She was secure with herself and with you, she didn't mind. Much. She didn't
like it when you checked out Candy, though."

Jack laughed out loud. "I know," he said. "But here's the thing. I've only
known Laura for a few days, but I..."

"Woah. Jack."

"Yeah, I know - she and I have talked on the phone a couple of times, and met a
couple of times, but each time, there is something undeniably there between
us."

"Something like money?"

He looked at her annoyed. "No, not like money."

"I assume she's getting a cut of what she gets you, and you're getting a
substantial amount from her efforts. Maybe what you're feeling is gratitude.
Maybe what she's feeling is a paycheck."

He thought for a moment. "Maybe, but I don't think so. I'm feeling things I
have not felt with anyone else since Sarah and I started going out. It feels
like that again. I can't say I'm falling in love with her, but I'm saying I
could. She said to me, 'I don't know what's happening here, but there's
something.' She feels it, too."

Kate was skeptical and her face and eyes reflected that as though she'd written
it on her shirt: "Life is Good - Jack is on the Rebound - Jack's going to get
his heart broken."

"Look, sis, I'm not looking for a solution to this, I'll figure it out on my
own on my time, but it is these feelings I keep having that are driving me
crazy, feelings that I'm wrong to look at her as a possible partner, as
anything other than just my lawyer."

"There may be ethical issues, too."

"Forget that for now. Just tell me straight out. Am I evil for thinking about
this two or three weeks after my family was taken from me? How soon is too
soon? How late is too late?"

"There is no 'too late,' Jack," Kate said, psychologist cap now on her head.
"There is always time to find love. Look at me - I have dabbled with love, but
it is not the right time for me. I'm not worried, the right guy is out there
for me. But there can be a too soon. Generally speaking, I'd say you're in that
time now. But that's a personal call. And you're definitely not evil, Jack.
You're my brother, how could you be?"

They sat for a few minutes, then she said, "Is there anything else?"

Jack thought for a moment. "No, not right now. Maybe later."

"Good, then I think you should forget about watching returns with me and just
go home and relax. Get some sleep. Maybe visit with Sarah and see what she
thinks. What you think."

Jack rose with Kate and they hugged. She leaned back and placed her hand on his
cheek. "I do know that she would want you to move on. She was that kind of
person." He nodded. She rubbed his cheek, then slapped him gently. "She'd want
you to shave this stubble, too." She smiled at him.

"Thanks, Kate. You're the best sister I've got."

She stuck her tongue out at him and laughed. She lead him out though the front
door. She gave him another hug and he held her for a few seconds before turning
toward the open door. Before he walked back to his car, she said, "Jack, if
this Laura is right for you, you'll know it. But please don't rush anything.
Promise me that."

"I promise," he said and waved to her. He heard the door shut behind him, he
got in his car, and headed back to the hotel.


Chapter 21.

By the time he got back to the hotel, Jack didn't feel like doing anything at
all, not even sleeping. He turned on the TV and saw that all of the broadcast
channels, and, of course, the news channels, were doing election coverage. This
early in the evening, few races could be called - Vermont's Senate race had
been called, though, and the Republican got trounced. Even if the exit polls
were off by fifty percent, he would have lost. He remembered Logan saying, "I'm
going to vote for Bernie - the other guy has bad teeth." Jack chuckled at that
and told him that was not a good enough reason to vote against someone. Jack
felt a little sorry for the guy, having spent so much and gotten so little
support. But that's politics for you. He closed his eyes, intending to doze off
and perhaps have a conversation with Sarah. But just as he was feeling the room
dissolve away, his cell phone rang from across the room. He quickly got up,
crossed the room, and picked up the phone. The caller ID just said "Vermont,"
and he didn't recognize the number. He opened the phone and spoke into it.

"Hello?" There was a bit of static on the line, but he heard no response
otherwise. Again, he said, "Hello?"

"Jack?" It was a woman's voice but it was soft in the ear piece, he could
barely make it out.

"This is Jack."

"Jack," the voice said a bit louder, but hesitant. After a long moment, the
voice said, "Jack, hi, it's Laura."

Jack felt his heart leap in his chest, like he remembered feeling the first
time a girl called him in high school. "Laura? Hi, what's going on?" He was
curious but also suddenly concerned. Why would she be calling?

"Um. Jack, I'm not exactly sure why I'm calling." A pregnant pause. "I was
sitting here alone in my house and just felt compelled to call you." She
laughed a short, light laugh. "I feel like a schoolgirl." Jack smiled at the
coincidence. He sat down on the corner of the bed. "I'm probably bothering
you," she said, looking for a way out.

"No, you're not, Laura - it is good to hear from you." Another pause. "How are
you?"

She ignored the question. "Jack, I said something today at lunch that I..." Her
voice trailed off.

"That you what?" he prompted.

"I don't know. I want to say I said something today that could be taken the
wrong way. But here's the thing. I don't think you could take it the wrong way.
I think you could only take it the way I meant it."

His mind raced back to their conversation. Drunk driver, settlement money, one
point seven million, you're a good man, I like the way you think, I like you,
devastating. He thought he knew what she was talking about, but he didn't want
to be a fool, so he said, "I'm not sure I know what you mean. A lot was said. I
have to say, I was afraid I left a bad taste in your mouth when I mentioned
your commission."

"It was right around that Jack. I told you I didn't know what was going on, but
that I liked you and it would kill me if you got the wrong impression of my
motivations."

"Laura, I've known you for what, two days?"

"About that, yes."

"I'm going to be totally honest and open with you for a minute if that's OK."

"It is," she said without hesitating.

"I don't know what is going on either, but I feel something when I'm with you,
something I felt with Sarah. It scares me a bit, but it also feels wonderful.
If what you were saying to me was something along those lines, then we are on
the same wavelength. If that's not what you're thinking, then I'm a
presumptuous idiot and you can hang up on me now."

She said nothing for a few moments and he was about to do a "Can you hear me
now?" into the phone to check the connection, but then he heard her say, "Jack,
we're on the same wavelength." He closed his eyes and lifted his head to the
ceiling. He absolutely felt like he was back in high school. When he opened his
eyes again, he was standing in a field and Sarah was standing in front of him.
He didn't recognize the field - this was not a memory.

"Jack," she said and smiled. "She could love you. I know you - you could love
her."

"I know."

"Talk to her, get to know her."

"I just don't know what to do about it," he heard Laura say. He opened his eyes
and the hotel room was still there.

"We need to talk, get to know each other. See if what we're feeling is real or
fleeting."

"Yes, yes, that's good." He heard her sigh. "I feel so much better. Jack, you
don't have any idea. I had a hard time concentrating at my one o'clock meeting.
I kept replaying what I said in my head, worried that I ruined my chances, not
even sure if I had a chance. I'm glad I called."

"I'm glad, too." He ventured, "Do you want to come over to my hotel? We can sit
and talk here."

She thought for a moment. "No, I shouldn't. Something could happen, too soon."

He felt a rush at that, but knew she was right. "You're right, that wasn't a
good idea. We could just talk on the phone."

"Let's do that. Oh, before I forget, I faxed the settlement counter offer to
the insurance company. I hope to know by next week what their response is."

"Does that complicate things between us?"

"Technically, you're my client, Jack. I should not be talking to you about
personal topics."

"I won't tell if you won't."

"I won't tell." She chuckled. "But if this does go further, it will have to
wait until after the case is settled and the paperwork is all signed."

"Fair enough," he said. He laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling as
they talked. As they spoke, about her life, about his, about work and about the
weather, and finally about the election returns, he felt freed from all the
heavy feelings he'd had the past two weeks. He tried not to feel guilty about
that, but he still did. But he also felt good, and there was nothing wrong with
that.

Finally, the clock struck eleven and the national election returns were
replaced with local ones. Laura said, "I have to go, Jack. I have to be up for
work tomorrow, I need my eight hours. I'll be lucky to get six or seven."

"OK," he said. "I think my battery's about to die anyway."

"I'm glad I called tonight. I almost hung up when you answered. I'm glad I
didn't."

"I'm glad, too, Laura. Will I hear from you tomorrow?"

"I think you will."

"OK. Good. Goodnight then, Laura."

They hung up and Jack closed the phone. He kept the charger in the car, so he
put the phone in his jacket pocket so it would be with him in the morning. He
got himself ready for bed and slipped under the sheets. He turned off the TV
and the lights and quickly fell to sleep.


Chapter 22.

On the way in to work the next morning, Jack noticed something odd. The world
was suddenly far, far greener than it had been the day before. It took him a
few moments to realize why, and then it was only because he saw something that
was suddenly out of place. Over night, apparently, all of the political parties
had gone around to all the candidate signs and pulled the bright plastic and
metal expressions of free speech out of the ground. Gone were the garish yellow
and red signs of the Senate challenger and the red and white signs of the now
Senator-elect. The green and white and red, white, and blue signs of the
gubernatorial candidates were gone. The blue and white signs of the candidates
for state's attorney (one better termed white and blue) were gone. All that
remained were a few scattered signs from the Progressive Party (which had a
smaller organization and likely only a small clean-up crew) and signs
supporting or detracting local ballot items. Also gone, of course were the
veritable vespiaries of wavers huddled against the wind at every major
intersection. Another election season over. He wondered how much money had been
spent on all those signs, on all the ads, on all the appearances. He hoped that
the winners would make good use of their skills and talents. He also knew that
since George Bush could not run again in 2008, the upcoming election season,
which would be starting any day, would be even more garish and would cost even
more money.

The rest of the drive in to work was uneventful. He got to his desk, settled
in, and opened up a new email. In the To field, he placed Tracie's name. He
thought for a moment if he should CC Vickie, then decided he should. Better to
kill to birds with one stone. In it he asked them to come to his office for a
short meeting when they both had a chance. He sent the email and opened up his
editor and told it to open his latest project files. Before the files were all
opened, he heard a knock on his door. He looked up and Tracie and Vickie were
both standing there. "We're free," Vickie said.

Jack's dirty mind could have come up some juicy images from that statement, but
he withheld internal comment and just motioned them in. "Close the door,
Trace," he said to Tracie as she cleared the threshold. She did, and sat next
to Vickie in the chairs in front of Jack's desk.

Tracie was dressed to the nines today. She wore a black dress that fell lightly
on her shoulders and reached down just below her knees. She had on black
stockings and black pumps. She wore a necklace with a small sliver cross that
hung just above her cleavage. She would appear at work dressed just so every
once in a while. The first few times, he just observed. In such clothes, she
was even more stunning than usual, almost distractingly so. The garb was almost
like evening wear, but more practical. Eventually, he asked her if she went out
on dates at lunch, or if she had something going on after work. She told him
she didn't, but that she had clothes in her closet that needed to get out, and
though business casual was the norm in the office, she didn't mind dressing up
for work every once in a while.

Vickie was dressed more in line with the office norm: she wore faded jeans that
went on forever over her long legs, a blue shirt under a white wool sweater.
Vickie was still tanned from her trip to Aruba with her husband. Her hips
filled the jeans as one would expect them to for a mother of two - pleasantly.
She wore light makeup to good effect. Jack heard Vickie once tell Tracie, "You
make the rest of us look bad when you dress like that!" Jack noticed some
tension between them for a few days, but he eventually attributed her lashing
out at Tracie to troubles at home with her husband. For the most part, the two
were very convivial, good office friends.

Jack had to tell them not to worry about Bryan and Lydia, but he didn't feel
right telling them anything that Bryan had said to him yesterday, so he had to
go about it in a roundabout way. "Vickie, I think you know that Tracie came to
speak to me yesterday about a matter of some concern to you both."

"About Bryan," Tracie said, filling in the blank that Jack had left hanging.

"About Bryan, yes," he said.

"Jack," Vickie said, "I hate spreading rumors, but after I spoke to Ty, I knew
Bryan was going to screw this up. Frankly, I don't care about him, but I worry
what this will do to you. I know you vouched for him after the whole thing with
Eileen."

"I appreciate your concern, but..."

But Vickie was not finished. "I think you should get rid of him before the shit
hits the fan, Jack."

"Me, too, Jack," Tracie chimed in. "Not fire him but, you know..."

"Transfer him," Vickie said, completing Tracie's thought.

"That would be best, we think," Tracie said with a finality that made Jack
think that the deal was already done and all he needed to do was sign on the
dotted line.

Jack sat back. "I don't have the power to transfer anyone, ladies."

"Yes you do, Jack," Tracie said with a look that was telling him that he
shouldn't play her for a fool. "Ganesh may be in charge, but you have the
respect and seniority to pull some strings."

"Stop," Jack said.

"But Jack," they said in unison.

"Stop!" He held up his hand, hoping to wield a little of the respect and
seniority they endowed him with. "Listen." They both folded their hands into
their laps. As Tracie did so, the hem of her dress rose over her knees and Jack
had to force himself to look away. He wasn't sure if she did that kind of thing
on purpose - if so, she was a master.

"I spoke to Bryan yesterday," he said.

"And?" they both asked.

"And nothing. He told me some personal things that I cannot repeat to you, but
I am not concerned with what it going to happen with him and Lydia."

"But!"

"No buts. This is his thing to deal with, and he is dealing with it. Case
closed." They both looked dejected. "Vickie. Tracie. Your concern for me is
touching. I hold you two with high regard as colleagues and as friends. If you
hold me in any similar regard, then trust me on this."

"I trust you," Vickie said.

"Me, too," Tracie said.

"Good. Then that's that. Back to work, then, with you both." They looked at
each other and Vickie shrugged. They both stood and Tracie opened the door.
Vickie looked like she was going to say something else, but thought better of
it and walked to her desk. Jack shook his head - he didn't know what to think
about Bryan. Everyone deserves a second chance, and maybe this is his. The
worst case scenario is that everything Bryan told him was a lie, but he didn't
think that of him. Best case, they are made for each other and live happily
ever after. Time would tell, of course, but if his black ball wears down, Bryan
would probably be in another division before it all played out.

A few minutes later, Jack was returning from a trip to the bathroom, which he
thankfully was able to make without interruption or involving himself in any
conversation, and he heard his phone ringing. He hurried into his office and
picked up the handset. "This is Jack," he said into the phone.

"Jack? This is Laura."

He smiled and sat down at his desk. "Hey, Laura. How are you?"

"I'm good Jack, I'm good. I have some news."

They had talked about so much the night before, he had no context, so he asked,
"About what?"

"About the settlement."

"Already? I thought you said..."

"I know," she said cutting him off. "I don't completely understand it, but they
called me directly not ten minutes ago. They agreed to our counter offer
without any argument. They are itching to settle. It makes me suspicious."

"That's the lawyer in you talking, Laura."

"I know. I assume you want to take it as we discussed before and leave it at
that."

"Yes. It is a lot of money. I think fighting to get more would make it seem
dirtier than it already feels. And it would drag it out. How many times would I
have to relive it before the end?"

"A lot," she admitted. "I admire you, Jack. You know your limits, where to draw
the line."

"Thank you, Laura. I appreciate it, especially coming from you." There was a
long pause, then he said, "So, what's next?"

"I'll tell them you accept. They will courier over documents for you to sign
and I'll courier them back. Once they have them in hand, they'll get you a
check."

He sat back in his seat and looked at his screen. With a few swipes of a pen,
he would be a millionaire. A millionaire with no family, with no one to share
it with, no one to enjoy it with, at least not yet. It was a bittersweet
victory. His mind returned to all the good the money could do. That was some
salve on the wound.

"Good. Do it, do it all."

"I will."

"Can I see you tonight? Dinner, maybe?"

"I'd like that."

They made arrangements to meet at a steakhouse at six thirty. Jack wasn't sure
he could make it through the rest of the day and do any coherent work. He
pushed his keyboard away, put his elbows on the desk and held his hands in his
head. He sat there motionless for several seconds.

"Everything OK, Jack?" he heard a voice say from his door. He looked up - it
was Ty, just walking by with a fresh cup of coffee in his hand.

"Yeah," he said, sitting up. "I'm good, Ty. Thanks."


Chapter 23.

Jack sat at the table and nursed a margarita, on the rocks with salt. He
checked his watch - six fifty. He didn't know Laura well enough yet to know if
tardiness was de rigueur. He had met her now, personally, twice, and once he'd
met her and the second time she'd been right on time, so he was getting ticked
- and concerned.

He checked his watch again and looked up and she was there. He saw her torso
first and looked up to her face. She looked horrible - he eyes were red, bare
of makeup. She looked tired, exhausted even. He stood up, suddenly all of his
anger replaced with all of his concern. "Laura," he said and took her arm. She
gently pulled it way from his grasp. "Laura, what the hell?" She lowered her
head and rubbed her brow with her hand. "Laura, please, sit down." She did.

He sat down and watched her intently. She looked physically fine - his first
thought was that she had been mugged or beaten. Though rare in Vermont, it was
not unknown. But her clothes were intact, clean, and she was unharmed as far as
he could see.

"Jack," she said in a half whisper. "I've made a big mistake."

The waitress came and saw Laura's condition. "Is everything..."

"She's OK," Jack interrupted. "But please, a glass of water."

"Of course." She waitress left and quickly returned, leaving the water behind.
Laura picked it up and took a sip. She put it down and looked Jack in the eye.

"Jack, I just got my ass reamed out by Pam."

"Why?"

"Because of you. Because of me. Because of us."

"I don't understand," Jack said, clearly confused.

"She found out about us."

"But Laura, there is no 'us.' Not yet anyway."

She looked at him with thanks in her eye, like he'd said something right. "I
know, Jack." She settled herself in her seat and took another sip of water.
"Pam called me into her office at around four thirty. I was going to go see her
anyway, so I brought your paperwork with me. I know you talked to her first, I
thought she would be pleased with what we worked out, with the settlement. The
commission would bring in a paralegal's annual salary. That's good news no
matter how you look at it."

Laura related the rest of the story.

"Pam, before we get started, I wanted to show you the settlement I got in
Jack's case." She slid a sheet of paper over to Pam showing the high-level
numbers in the settlement. The bottom line was a fee of over one hundred and
twenty thousand dollars, with half going to Laura and half to the firm. Pam
looked at the sheet as Laura took a seat of front of Pam's desk.

"This is what I wanted to talk to you about." Her face did not reflect
pleasure. If anything, she was somber, even dire. "I understand that you and
Jack have developed a relationship."

Laura tilted her head at Pam. "I've met with him a few times, and we've spoken
on the phone..."

"My information is that there is something more than that."

"Pam, I don't understand what you're saying."

"Is there a personal relationship between you and Jack? While you're working on
a financial settlement with him for which you will receive a commission?"

Laura understood the question - her role in the settlement would be a conflict
of interest if she and Jack had a personal relationship. Her role could be seen
as an undue influence on his decision process.

"Pam, I have worked with Jack like I have with any client. I have followed his
instructions on this matter as closely as I would with any other case. You know
me, you know my work. This," she said indicating the settlement summary, "is
nothing unusual."

Pam sighed. "Laura, I agree. But if there is anything between you, and even if
there isn't, we could be opened up for all kinds of liability. Especially if
Jack was dissatisfied with your work, now or ever." The "ever" was an
exaggeration, but she wasn't wrong about the rest of it.

"Pam, nothing has happened between Jack and I. At least not yet. I admit that I
am attracted to him, in a way I have not felt in a long time." Tears started to
well in Laura's eyes. She was not normally a teary woman, but her emotions were
pent up and ready to overflow. "And I spoke with him on the phone for close to
an hour last night. But nothing has happened, and nothing will happen, at least
not until this deal is done."

"I'm not sure Jack thinks that."

"Pam, I'm very confused. Have you talked to Jack?"

"No. I talked to Kate, his sister. Jack apparently told her that he was
developing a thing for you, and he thinks you may be for him. Sounds like he is
right about that."

Pam was not telling Laura anything she did not know, but hearing it this way,
characterized not as something good but as something dangerous, was too much
for her to hear. Tears fell from both eyes. "Pam, I..."

"Laura," Pam interrupted. "I trust you. I've worked with you for two years and
I know you have a good head on your shoulders. But this, this cannot stand."

"Kate," Jack said. He had listened to Laura relate the story and he had a
feeling Kate had been the source that tipped Pam off. He was now filled with a
mix of compassion and pity for Laura for having to endure this because of him,
and a mix of anger and betrayal toward Kate. "Laura, I'm so sorry. You were
only doing what I wanted you to. I'll sign something to that effect if that's
what it takes."

Laura took his hand in hers. She had sat with her hands in her lap as she told
the story, staying within her own bubble. He was glad she broke through it and
reached out to him. "You don't need to Jack."

"Why not? Don't tell me they fired you."

"No. No, not fired, but I've handed your case off to another associate and I'm
forfeiting any percentage of the fee."

"Laura, you earned every penny of that money. I'll call Pam and explain..."

"No," she interrupted and squeezed his hands. "No. Pam gave me an out. She said
I could transfer the settlement to another associate, probably Roger. But I'd
keep half of my half."

"Oh," Jack said. "That doesn't sound too bad."

"I turned her down. Jack, I turned it all down. I told her to take the
settlement and transfer it to Roger if she wanted, but I don't want any of the
fee. None of it. Not if it can interfere with something. I don't even know
what. Jack, I don't know if there is anything here, with you, with us. But if
there is, no amount money is worth losing the chance."

"Laura. But you..."

"No. No, this is the best way. This is what I want."

Jack held her hands and looked deeply into her eyes, She had strands of red
hair in her face, falling around her ears. Her cheeks were flushed - she was
blushing, having taken a chance and revealed all her cards. He leaned in toward
her and kissed her, gently, his lips touching just her lower one. He sat back
in his seat and saw that she had closed her eyes. She took one of her hands and
placed it on the spot where he kissed her and a tear slipped out of one eye.
She opened her eyes and looked at him, blinking until she could focus on him
through the watery lens. "Thank you, Jack," she said.

"Laura, I don't know what will happen with us. But I want to find out."

She smiled at him. "Me, too."


Chapter 24.

They ended up ordering, though Laura did not have much of an appetite at first.
She decided to just have a crock of onion soup. Jack, though very angry with
Kate and full of anticipation about Laura, was still hungry and ordered a filet
mignon and scallop combination. They talked small-talk while they waited for
the food to arrive. Jack noticed the waitress looking in on them more than she
probably would have normally, but once she saw Laura laughing and holding
Jack's hand, she left them alone. Jack had not expected anything more than a
nice meal with a woman whose company he enjoyed. It had turned into something
more - what exactly he would figure out later, but it felt good. They held
hands while they ate, letting go just to gesture or so that Jack could use his
knife. After Laura finished her soup, he shared a scallop and a few bites of
his steak with her. After they finished and Jack paid the bill, leaving a
larger than usual tip for the understanding waitress, they walked hand in hand
out to the parking lot. Jack walked her to her car, the only yellow Bug in the
lot.

"Thank you, Jack," she said as she faced him. "This could have been one of the
worst nights of my life, but you turned it around." She moved closer to him and
placed a hand on his chest. "Tonight, you made me very happy." She leaned in
toward him and kissed him, and he kissed her back. Their lips were light on
each other, touching lightly, tentative still. After three of these kisses, she
hugged him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He reached behind her and held
her to him, feeling her breasts press against his chest and her neck against
his. They hugged for a few seconds when they released each other. She kissed
him once more and stepped back. She opened her purse and pulled a business card
and a pen from within. "Roger will contact you about the settlement," she said
as she started writing. "The contract you signed for me is still in effect,
nothing changes there." She clicked her pen closed and handed him the card.

"Don't call me at work. That's my cell number and my home number. Call me there
instead."

He looked at the card and held it up. "I will call you tomorrow, Laura. It
won't be soon enough, though."

She smiled and blushed. She placed her hand back on his chest and patted it. At
that moment, Jack wanted to pick her up and carry her into his bed, and make
love to her all night. But he knew it was still too soon for that. He had to be
satisfied with what he was feeling and the memory of her lips on his. "Good
night, Jack," she said and unlocked her doors with her remote. She opened the
door and sat in her seat. He looked at her and she at him as he closed her door
for her. He stepped back and waved to her. She smiled and waved back, then
buckled her belt and started the car. She slipped the car into drive and looked
at him and smiled one last time before driving off.

He watched the taillights as they got smaller and smaller and finally
disappeared as she turned a corner and left his sight. He touched his lips and
smiled. He turned and walked toward his SUV. He started it up and buckled his
seat belt. He looked at the clock. It was almost nine. He turned on the radio,
slipped the car into gear, and drove out.

He wanted to go see Kate and yell at her for what she had done, but he had to
think it out, what to say. He wasn't sure what to do. He pulled up to an
overlook. In the spring and summer, this place was a perfect one to look at the
lake, watching sailboats drifting with the light wind. Now, though, it was
pitch black, with only the lights on the other side of the lake visible that
far out. Closer in, the lights of several well-to-do neighborhoods shone like
Christmas lights on a giant, horizontal tree. The city to the north cast an
orange glow over the sky all the way back to the horizon. He shut off the car
and listened to the radio for a few minutes. The election was the biggest
story, of course. The Democrats had taken back the House in a resounding
victory, and could still take the Senate. The President had announced the
resignation of his Defense Secretary, collateral damage in the Democrat's
devastating political attack on the ruling party. In Vermont, ticket splitters
had sent an Independent to the Senate and a Democrat to the House, but had left
a Republican governor and lieutenant governor in power in the state.

He flipped off the radio when the sportscaster came on the air. He glanced down
at the neighborhood below him and decided what to do. He picked up his cell
phone and scrolled a few entries down his phone book, stopping on "Ben". He hit
the Connect button and listened.

"Hello?" It was Candy.

"Hi, Candy. It's Jack."

"Hey there Jack," she said cheerfully.

"Is Ben there?"

"Oh, Jack, no, he's not. He got called away this afternoon to a client site. He
is on a plane right about now."

Damn. "OK, thanks. I'll try him later."

"Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you OK? You don't sound yourself."

"I'm fine Candy." He paused for a moment, then said, "Actually, I'm not fine.
It has been a strange and frustrating day."

"Can I help? Do you want to talk? I know we don't, usually, but I'm here for
you if you need someone to talk to."

"I dunno, Candy. I was hoping for Ben's perspective on something. Something I
think only a middle child in my family could provide."

"Oh. Well, I'm a middle child. Worst that happens is I can't help."

He knew she was - he had met her two sisters when she married Ben and had seen
each of them separately again a few times over the years. Why the hell not, he
thought. It can't hurt, and if Ben confides in her the way he had in Sarah,
Candy would know everything soon anyway.

"OK, I'm having an issue with Kate."

"What kind of issue?" He started to answer when Candy cut him off. "Jack, why
don't you come over here. The kids are in bed, we can have some coffee and talk
about this face to face." Jack thought that it could look like something
suspicious, but decided to go. He could use a friend right now, and there were
none of those in his empty hotel room.

"OK," he said. "I'll be there in ten minutes." He hung up his phone and pulled
out of the overlook.

He drove in silence in the dark until he heard, "Candy and I never had any
really intimate conversations."

"Whose fault is that, Sarah?"

"Oh, mine, I know. She tried, but I wasn't open to it. I don't know if she can
help to you at all, but you might as well try."

He looked at her in the dim light. "You haven't been much help either, so don't
go there."

"Jack, I come when you think of me. The one thing I know is that you can't go
to see Kate right now, not like this. Talk to Candy and see if she can help."

He pulled into Ben's driveway and looked over at Sarah. "Remember," she said,
"no checking out her ass."

Jack would have smiled if he hadn't been in a sour mood, but he couldn't bring
himself to do it. He shut off the car, got out, and headed toward the front
door. He rang the bell and waited a moment, hearing footsteps from within.
"Hello?" he heard from behind the door.

"It's Jack," he called out loud enough so she could hear him through the door
but not so loud as to announce himself to the neighborhood. He heard a deadbolt
unlatch and the door opened. Candy was wearing conservative but clinging cotton
pajamas and had her hair pushed back with a hair band.

"Hi, Jack," she said. "Come in. Let's talk."


Chapter 25.

He walked into the kitchen - he could hear the coffee pot boiling off the last
of its water and could smell the strong blend that Ben and Candy liked wafting
through the air. Candy walked over to a cupboard and pulled out matching mugs.
"How do you like it?" she asked.

"Do you have Equal or Splenda?"

"I do."

"One of those, and black," he said, and took a seat at the kitchen bar. He
watched Candy as she opened a packet of blue sweetener and emptied it into his
mug and poured the coffee in after it. She emptied two into her mug and
splashed some milk in before filling it up with coffee. She turned and handed
him his mug, then turned back and got a spoon to stir hers with. She came
around the island and sat in the chair next to his. She wore small, rimless
glasses - he'd only seen her in them a few times, as she normally wore
contacts. She crossed one leg up over the other and sipped her coffee. Jack
took a few sips, too.

"We've never done this," she said.

"No, we haven't." All the other times they had been together had been in a
family context: her and Ben's wedding, births and birthdays, dinners, play
dates, there had never been a reason for the two of them to be alone.

"I'm sorry we are here now," she said, and looked down into her mug.

"Why's that?"

"Look, Jack, I know that Sarah didn't think of me as someone she could talk to
or confide in. We rarely spent much time together. She got along a lot better
with Kate." There was no point in trying to defend Sarah or deny what Candy was
saying, so he remained silent. She seemed to need to get this off her chest. "I
liked Sarah, but we just never connected. And the only reason you're here now
is because she's gone. She and I may not have been friends, but we held no
animosity toward each other."

"No," he agreed.

"So - I'd much rather her be alive than you be here right now. Know what I
mean?"

"I do, Candy. Frankly, I do, too."

"I know you do, dear." He smiled when she called him "dear." It sounded
motherly. "But we can talk about that some other time. You called to talk to
Ben. I don't know if I can help you, but I might. What's going on?"

Jack took a deep breath and let it out slowly before blowing into his cup and
sipping the coffee. It was strong, but he liked it that way. "I don't even know
where to start, Candy. Basically, I'm very angry at Kate right now. I feel like
she violated my trust on something very important and I don't know what to do,
what to say. We're both adults, but I'm her older brother and I feel like
scolding her. I thought maybe Ben could offer some insight. I don't know if
he's ever gone through anything like this with her and had advice on what he
did. I've never felt so betrayed."

"Wow," Candy said. "Those are strong words: betrayed, violated trust. What
could she possibly have done? It seems out of character."

"I have to tell you the whole story for you to understand." He looked into his
mug.

"I won't tell Ben, if that's what you're worried about, Jack."

"Yes you will," he contradicted her. "I've been married a long time. Well, had
been. I know how couples talk. But it's OK, it isn't you telling Ben that I'm
concerned about."

"What then?"

"I don't want you to think ill of me."

She looked at him with confusion. "I don't understand, Jack."

He sighed, and summarized the story:

"The other night I was over here to get the insurance papers from Ben. Well,
they were beyond Ben and way beyond me, so I needed to hire a lawyer. Kate gave
me the name of her lawyer, Pam, and I called. Pam couldn't help me, but has an
associate in her office who could. So I called her and I told her I had an
insurance settlement that I needed an expert to look at. We set up a meeting
that night and we met to go over the paperwork." He paused and took a sip of
the coffee, which was just starting to cool down enough to gulp. He looked at
Candy who was rapt already. He continued, "We had a quick dinner and she agreed
to take the case. She thought she could get the insurance company to pay more.
She figured out what she felt was fair, considering I did not want to go into
court. And they went for it."

"That's good - but what does all that have to do with Kate?"

"Well, this is the part where I worry about your reaction, Candy. When I first
saw Laura..."

"Laura?" Candy interrupted.

"Sorry, the lawyer - that's her name. Anyway, when I first saw her, she took my
breath away. I feel like I was enchanted by her from the first moment. I think
she felt something, too, but she was all business."

"Jack, you're human. You have real emotions and needs, and the fact that you
are attracted to a woman is no surprise."

"But so soon after the accident? I was disappointed with myself. I tried to
imagine what Sarah would say. I don't know if what I thought she would say was
self-serving or an honest assessment."

"What did you think she would say?"

"Go for it. Don't grieve for me forever. Get on with your life."

"That sounds like Sarah. You knew her far better than I did, but I can imagine
her saying those things."

"Yeah." He paused. "So anyway, I met with Laura the next day for lunch. We'd
only seen each other once and spoken a couple of times on the phone, but I went
to the sandwich shop to wait for her like I was waiting for a new Star Wars
movie to open." Candy smiled at that - she recalled that Jack and Ben had stood
in line for hours to be in the first group to see Revenge of the Sith a few
years ago. Though they were past the stage where they would camp out to get
tickets, a two-hour wait seemed perfectly reasonable, and they'd talked about
it excitedly for weeks before. "We had a good lunch - it was just a sandwich,
but we said things to each other that hinted at something deeper. I can't say
that I was falling in love or anything like that - but I could tell, this was a
person I could fall in love with."

She squirmed a bit in her seat and sipped her coffee, and watched him,
prompting him to continue with her attention. "But I was feeling so much more
than a lust or an infatuation or love or whatever for Laura. I felt guilty. I
felt like I was doing something wrong."

"Why?"

"Because of Sarah and the kids." He scolded himself: "I mean, come on Jack! The
accident was just over two weeks ago and here you are thinking about another
woman already." He looked directly at Candy. "I mean, don't get me wrong,
Candy. I looked at other women when Sarah was here, but only from afar,
admiringly. I love Sarah, loved her. I couldn't have had an affair with someone
else. But suddenly the door is open and I seem to be walking through it without
the slightest hesitation. Yet it felt so right. I didn't know what to feel or
think. My mind was telling me Sarah would agree with this, but again, maybe I
was just fooling myself."

"So you talked to Kate about it."

"Yes," he said with a big sigh. "I talked to Kate. I told her about Laura. I
told her it was someone from Pam's firm. Kate was concerned. She said there
were ethical concerns. She worried Laura was taking advantage of me, since she
would get a commission from her work with me. I told her all my doubts, but
that I didn't think I was being played. It felt right, I said."

"What did she say?"

"She said it was too soon, but that I was a big boy. I should listen to what my
heart told me, try to think what Sarah would say."

"And your heart said..."

"It said nothing conclusive. But then Laura called me that night, and we talked
for an hour and I swear, nothing has felt so right for weeks. I was on top of
the world, Candy. So anyway, tonight, we made arrangements to go over the paper
work. The liability company accepted her counter offer without any changes. But
when she got there, she was a wreck. Kate had called Pam and Pam was pissed at
Laura. Pam made Laura cut her commission in half and give my case to someone
else."

"Did that bother her, losing the commission?"

He smiled. "No, Candy, that's just it. That's the clincher. She gave up all of
the commission. She said she couldn't take any of it, not if it meant that it
could cause a rift between us. 'Us!' Suddenly there is an us. My heart went out
to her - she was admonished by a colleague, by her boss, for having emotions,
for having feelings for me."

Candy smiled at him. "Anything else?"

"I kissed her. Tonight, I kissed her and I think we resolved things. It worked
out." He drained his coffee and set the mug on the counter. "I don't know if
I'm ready for this, if it is too soon, or anything, but it felt good, Candy. I
wanted to take her and just go away and be alone. But she's more grounded, she
left and said we'd see each other later. She doesn't even realize it, but she's
looking out for me."

"That happened tonight?"

He glanced at the clock: "Yes, not even two hours ago."

"Well," she said while she folded her arms over her breasts. "From where I'm
sitting, you have no right to be angry at Kate."

He stared at her for a moment. "That's not the kind of answer I was looking
for, Candy. You agree with her? Laura should be punished for this?" He was
getting his dander up.

"Jack, wait," she said and placed her hand on his knee, as though she had to
hold him back. "Hear me out." She sat back and looked at him. "So tonight you
kissed Laura?"

"Yes."

"What is good? A good kiss?"

"Yes, it was very good." He was eyeing her suspiciously, like he was afraid she
was leading him into a trap. She sprung it: "Were you planning on that before
she told you about her conversation with Pam?"

He thought for a moment. "Hoped, maybe, fantasized - but, no, I had no plans
for anything like that."

"There you go," she said, throwing up her hands as if his answer explained
everything. His expression prompted her to explain. "Jack, think about it. If
Kate had not brought this up to Pam, tonight would have been very different.
Maybe the ethical question would have caught up with Laura eventually, but now
it is over with, and her choice was to eliminate the question completely,
giving up what I have to assume would have been a sizable commission. Now you
never have to wonder about that."

"I guess."

"Jack, you've told me a very romantic story tonight. I almost wish Ben would
call right now so I could kick you out and have phone sex with him - it got me
excited just listening to it. I was pulling for you, and look how it turned
out."

Jack was blushing a bit. "The story isn't over yet."

"No, of course not. If it works out, the story will never be over. The story of
Jack and Sarah may have a conclusion, but if everything works out, the story of
Jack and Laura has just begun. And Kate helped you write the very first
chapter. Be angry with her - that's normal. Even yell at her. But in the end,
you're going to have to get over that, and thank her."

Jack hadn't thought of it that way. He stared up into a corner of the kitchen.

"She's smarter than I would have ever thought," Sarah said. He looked over and
saw her standing behind Candy. She was wearing the red silk negligee he'd
bought her at Victoria's Secret. "She should have put a robe on, though. It
isn't proper to receive your brother in law in your p-j's."

Jack chuckled. "We're talking about Kate opening the door for me to have a
better relationship with Laura - a sexual relationship, an emotional
relationship - and you're worried about how Candy is dressed? How do you feel
about Laura?"

"Oh Jack, I hate that you're in this position. We were going to grow old
together. I loved you with all my heart, more, if that's possible. The kids
adored you. But we're gone now. What am I going to do, hope that you are
miserable the rest of your life? No. Candy is right. Our story was a beautiful
one, there's nothing I would change." She held her elbow with one hand and
touched her shoulder with the other one. "Well, I wouldn't have gotten hit by
that truck. That, I would change. Anyway, Jack - listen to her. I know you,
you're going to have to confront Kate, but after you do that, you're going to
have to thank her. Just remember that you're her big brother. There's not much
she could ever to do protect you. She saw this as a way. For better or worse,
she was looking out for you."

"What are you thinking, Jack?" he heard Candy say.

"I'm thinking you're right, and I'm thinking that if Sarah was here, she'd say
the same thing."

This last made Candy smile broadly.

"Thanks for the coffee, Candy, and the talk." Jack stood up. "I think I should
try to talk to her tonight. I can't let this go overnight, I need to deal with
it."

"Then you should." She glanced at the clock. "It isn't that late." Jack held
his arms out to her and she moved into them. He gave her a brotherly hug and
said "Thank you" again.

Just then the phone rang and Jack let her go. "Just a sec Jack." She walked to
the phone and picked it up. "Hello? Hey baby!. Just a sec." She held her hand
over the microphone. "It's Ben, Jack." Her chest was flushed red. "Can you let
your self out?"


Chapter 26.

Jack got in his car and saw the lights switch off in the downstairs window. He
saw a faint light turn on upstairs and he imagined Candy heading into her
bedroom to get more comfortable. He started the car and drove out. It was just
after eleven o'clock - not too late for him, but it might be for Kate. He
didn't care, he had to talk to her tonight, while he was full of piss and
vinegar, but also while he had Candy's sage words fresh in his head.

He drove toward Kate's condo, and when he was about five minutes out, he called
her. It took a few rings for her to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Kate? It's Jack."

"Hey, Jack - I was just going to bed. What's up?"

"I need to see you," he said as he turned onto her development's access road.

She paused for a moment, then said, "Can we meet for lunch tomorrow?"

"No, Kate, I mean now. I need to talk to you. I'm here, I'm pulling up next to
your house. Please."

There was a long pause, then she said, "OK, I'll meet you at the door."

As Jack walked up to Kate's door, she opened it and stood in the center,
silhouetted by the entry light. She had on a robe, one like Sarah had said
Candy should have worn. "Hi, Jack," she said in greeting. She moved out of the
doorway and let him in. "Hey, sis," he said as he passed by her. He stopped to
slip off his shoes and walked into the living room and sat on the couch he'd
sat on the night before.

Kate walked slowly into the room and sat down on the couch next to him. She
looked at him and saw him staring at the couch in front of him. She averted her
eyes to the floor. Jack looked up at her and her eyes darted his way, then back
down. "Jack, I think I know..." she started to say, but he interrupted her.

"Kate, no. Let me talk. I am really, really pissed off at you right now. Do you
know what happened today? Do you have any idea?"

"I have an idea, Jack." He voice was soft and toneless.

"You called Pam, Kate. You called Pam and told her about what we talked about
last night. You were asking me about Laura and her ethics, and you pull this?"
Despite how he thought this night would end up, he had to vent his considerable
anger toward her. He could see that his words were hurting her.

Kate shifted her body toward him and looked at him. Her eyes were welling with
tears. "Jack, please understand..."

"No," he said again. "You'll have your turn Kate. I know I'm not your patient,
so perhaps there was no ethical quandary from that angle, but I am your
brother, and what we talked about should have stayed between us. I was sharing
my most private fears and thoughts, and you took them and used them against
me."

"Jack, please!" Kate was actively crying now, and wiped at her cheekbones with
the sleeve of her robe.

"I don't understand, Kate. What were you thinking?"

"Jack, I'm sorry, but you have to understand." She had given up trying to wipe
the tears away and they streamed down her cheeks.

"Make me understand, Kate. Please."

She composed herself for a moment and moved closer to him. "Jack, when you told
me about Laura and what you were feeling, I was scared for you, and I was
angry, and I was worried. I see people in fragile emotional states all the
time, and maybe I projected too much of that onto you. I know, I know you're a
strong man, you have a strong will, and you were struggling with your sense of
what was right and what was wrong. I was angry at myself for getting you into a
position where you were even more vulnerable. Jack, I sent you to Pam and she
sent you to Laura. I had to know more about this woman, to make sure that you
were safe." She grabbed his hand with hers and sniffled. "Jack, I had to know
that you were not walking into an emotional trap that I unwittingly set for
you."

Jack turned his hand over and grasped Kate's hand in his. "Kate, you didn't set
anything for me. There was no trap. I have my eyes wide open, and I see exactly
where I'm headed. Granted, I was troubled, and you helped me with that, but you
didn't need to check up on me."

"Maybe not. Maybe not for you, but for me, I had to. I had to know that she was
OK, that she wasn't going to hurt you. I know nothing about her. Admit it, you
hardly know anything about her. So I asked Pam about her. She pressed me for
why I wanted to know. I had met her once, maybe twice, but it was all business,
I barely remembered her. So I asked the questions that were in my head. I
wasn't thinking about the consequences for her, I was only thinking about you.
And I was trying to ease my own mind. Pam, she must have put two and two
together and she asked my pointedly why I was asking about Laura." She had
stopped crying by now, and was sounding more defensive. "I told her generally
what you said, that you and she had a personal connection, but that I didn't
know anything more than that. She told me she had to discuss this with Laura. I
told her not to, but it was too late." She paused for a moment and squeezed his
hand. "Jack," she said, and tears began to well again. "All your life you've
been the big brother. I know you looked out for me when I was young, and that's
how I remembered you when we weren't in touch. Never in my life have you come
to me for help. You asked me what kind of flowers to buy Sarah, or what kind of
lingerie I thought she'd like, but that's not help, not real help. The other
night, when you confided in me, I felt connected to you in a way I haven't ever
really felt. Not even when we reconnected after I graduated. That was important
to me, I drew on your strength. But when I have I ever had a chance to give of
myself to you. This was my chance." She broke down and began sobbing. "I'm so
sorry if I fucked it all up, Jack, I'm so sorry." She was barely comprehensible
and he was afraid inconsolable, but he moved closer to her and grabbed her in
his arms and hugged her.

Kate wept into his shoulder and wrapped her arms around her neck. At that
moment, Jack felt the anger melting away, and it was replaced with admiration
and pride in her. She had only been doing what she thought was best for her
older brother. How could you fault that. He didn't, he supposed, though he
thought she should have been more discreet. No matter. What's done is done. He
pushed her away from him and she wiped her eyes and nose with the sleeve of her
robe. He looked at her. He saw so much of their mother in her, sensitive and
giving, but also of her father, loyal and strong willed. "Kate. Kate, look at
me." She looked up to him, scared about what he had to say.

"Kate, I have to tell you, when I heard what happened, I felt betrayed by you.
I was so angry. I guess I still am, a bit. But seeing you, hearing you,
thinking about it, I realize that you were not being disloyal. You were being
as loyal as you could be by looking out for me. I understand that. OK?" She
nodded her head. "You said you were concerned but also angry. Why were you
angry, with whom?"

"I was angry with myself for sending you there. But I was also angry at you."

"Me? Why?"

She paused, then looked directly at him. "Because I loved Sarah like a sister,
and when I heard you talk about Laura, it was like you were telling me you were
having an affair. I was mad at you about that, Jack, as little sense as it
might make objectively."

"Kate, I went through those same thoughts. I talked about it here."

"I know, but then you rationalized them away. 'She's gone,' you said. And it is
true, but I'm not sure I was ready to hear that from you." She put her hand up
to his cheek. "I know you're not cheating on Sarah, I know. I just need time to
internalize it." She rubbed his stubble with her thumb. "Hey," she said,
suddenly smiling, "you didn't shave."

He smirked, but he was not done. He reached up and pulled her hand away from
his face and kissed her palm. "Kate, there is no one else I want to have on my
side than you and Ben. As long as we look out for each other, we'll always be
OK."

"I know."

"I went to see Candy tonight."

"You did? Why?"

"I had to talk this out before I came to see you. If I hadn't talked to her
first, I might have come in here, exploded like a bomb, and left without
stopping to pick up the pieces. I could have made things very bad for you and
I."

"Well, I'm not exactly in a happy place right now, so I guess I'm glad it isn't
any worse. What did she say?"

He held her hand again. "She made me realize that you did me a favor."

"Now I'm confused, Jack."

"After Pam confronted Laura, she came to me. We'd planned to go to dinner. She
told me everything that happened. She's been taken off my case, Kate. Some one
else in her office will do all the paperwork. And, to help ease your mind about
her motives, she forfeited her right to any of the commission. Pam offered her
a twenty five percent cut, instead of fifty. She said she didn't want any of
it."

"Oh. Wow, Jack, that's..."

"That's good," he finished her sentence for her. "That's good. We talked, and
there is something there. Something definite, Kate. Something real. I know, it
is soon. Maybe too soon, but I don't care. It feels right."

"So all that just now..."

"Oh, all that," meaning all the yelling and crying, "that was necessary, Kate.
I was angry at you, and I had to get it out. But at the same time, I am so
grateful to you. As Candy put it, you opened a door for me, for Laura and I. I
honestly don't know what's beyond the door, but since it's open, I'm going to
step through it. And despite the fact that I was angry as hell at you for it, I
also have to appreciate it."

They sat in silence for a minute, Kate's hand in his. Finally, he said, "I
should let you got to bed now. I have work tomorrow, and so do you."

"I should, yes." She leaned in to him and they hugged one more time. After
breaking, they rose and she escorted him to the door. At the door he turned and
kissed her on the forehead. He opened the door and walked out. He got in the
car and headed out. He had to get back to the hotel. He had to talk to Sarah.


Chapter 27.

Jack concentrated on driving as much as he possibly could. He didn't want his
mind to wander because if it did, Sarah could come to him, and he wanted to
wait. He arrived at the hotel, parked, and walked into the lobby. The night
clerk came out of the office when he heard the door open, saw Jack, and waved
at him as he walked by. Jack got to his room, swiped his card, and flipped on
the light. He slipped his shoes off, used the toilet, and went into the
bedroom.

"Hi, Sarah," he said. She was sitting back on the bed, wearing that red silk
negligee again. "Why do you keep showing up in that?"

"Come on, Jack," she said. "Of all the things you ever bought for me, this was
your favorite. You knew when I wore it that you were getting some."

He chuckled. "True," he said. "But I liked you in nothing better."

"I can do nothing, Jack - it's all up to you." She held her hands out and
smiled at him.

"Maybe the red thing is better for now."

"Jack, sit down."

He sat in the desk chair and faced her. "What do you think, Sarah?"

"Well, it has been quite day. I can't believe you sat down with Candy and had a
heart to heart, and she surprised me. I also can't believe you went to see Kate
and even made her cry."

"I didn't like that," Jack said. "I had to get it out, though."

"I know. And Laura. What do you think about her?"

He wasn't sure how to answer, so he said, "What do you think?"

"Jack, come on - what you think is what I think."

"Of course." He was still not used to this. "There is definitely something
there. She caught my eye, of course. But she's engaging, she's smart - she's
like you, but different."

Sarah nodded. "Be careful about that. You can't get involved with her thinking
she's another me."

"I know." He sat silent for a minute, looking at her feet. Her toenails were
painted a perfect red to match the negligee. He looked at her legs, scanning up
to her knees to the hem. He saw a dark triangle where her thighs sank away from
the hem. He wished he could have her one more time - he wished he could
remember better the last time they'd made love, the last time they'd hugged,
the last time he told her he loved him.

"Hi Daddy," Amy said from beside him. He looked back at Sarah, whose hair was
now in a ponytail. She was wearing a red shirt and jeans. He looked to Amy and
said, "Hi baby." The boys were there, too. "I miss you guys. I love you so
much."

"We miss you, too, Daddy," Logan said.

"Love you, too, Daddy," Scott said.

He looked back at Sarah. "What's going on, Sarah?"

"Jack, you'll always have the memories of us. You've remembered more about us
in the past two or three weeks than you have in the past two years. There are
lots more memories for you to recall, to relive. And there are lots of new
memories for you to build. You're not going to need me here. You're not going
to need us here. Not like this anyway."

"Sarah, no, please."

"Jack. Really, you're going to be fine. You have a lot of life to live. Maybe
it will be with Laura, maybe not. But it is time for us to go."

"Do you see a light?"

"Jack, this isn't TV. This isn't even real. You're ready not because I'm
telling you. You're ready because you're ready."

"Yeah, Dad. You're ready," Amy said.

"Yeah, Daddy," Scott and Logan agreed simultaneously.

Jack buried his head in his hands. "OK," he said. "I'm good. I'm ready." He
opened his eyes and they were gone. He was sitting in the chair in his hotel
room. The clock said it was almost one in the morning. He got ready for bed and
was asleep within minutes.


Chapter 28.

Jack arrived at work the next morning just a few minutes late. When he walked
into his division, everyone was gathered around Bryan's cube. There was
laughter and chatter coming over the low wall. He peeked around a corner to see
what was going on. He was surprised to see everyone in his division, even
Ganesh, in Bryan's cube, or gathered around the entrance to it. Vickie and
Tracie were in the cube, huddled around something. Then he noticed Lydia was in
the cube, too, and what they were huddled around was her hand. It didn't take a
genius to figure out what was going on. Bryan had given Lydia a ring, and had
announced it to the entire division.

"Hey, Jack!" Bryan called out when he saw Jack. "Hey, guys, make way for Jack."
Ty and Frank stepped aside and Jack slipped in beside Ganesh.

"Look who's making Bryan into an honest man, Jack," said Ganesh, indicating
Lydia.

Lydia beamed at him and held out her hand with the ring. Jack took it and said,
"Hi Lydia. Congratulations." He turned and shook Bryan's hand. "Congratulations
to you, too." He looked at Vickie and Tracie. Vickie gave him a sheepish grin
that seemed to say, "So I was wrong, sue me!" Tracie's look was more one of
relief. "When's the date?" he asked them.

"We don't know yet," Lydia said. "We'll figure that out later. We're going to
take it slow. We're not in any hurry."

"Good idea," said Jack. "But don't wait too long. When you're ready to commit
to each other, you can't wait for just the most perfect time. It might never
come." He smiled. "Take it from an old married guy."

The crowd began to disperse and he followed Tracie and Vickie out of the cube.
He turned and looked into the cubicle. Lydia was reaching up to hug Bryan. They
fit together perfectly, he thought. Jack's level of respect for Bryan suddenly
leaped. He truly wished them luck.

When he got his computer booted up, he had an email from Roger at the law firm.
It was a quick introduction and an apology. This was not usually his area of
work, he wrote, but the work Laura had done was characteristically solid, and
all he had to do was sign the papers when they came in. He left his office
number and a personal number for him to call with any questions. He sent a
message back just acknowledging the email and telling Roger not to hesitate to
call when he had something for him to do. He left his cell phone number for
just such a purpose.

He was having a hard time getting started when his phone rang.

"This is Jack," he answered.

"Hi, Jack." Laura's voice made his heart leap again.

"Laura. It is good to hear your voice. How are you this morning?"

"I'm OK, I guess. Better than yesterday afternoon. I keep thinking about last
night. Jack, I need you to answer something for me."

"Sure, Laura."

"Is this real? What happened last night - was that out of pity or was it real.
Because if it was out of pity, I don't think I can go there."

"Laura, it was real. It was so real."

He heard her breathing in the phone, like she'd been holding on to a great
weight that was suddenly lifted from her arms. "Oh, Jack." She laughed lightly.
"I was afraid I was dreaming or I was hallucinating, or I don't even know." He
could hear her smiling through the phone. "I don't know what I'm going to do
with myself today. I don't think I can work."

Jack looked at his computer screen. He saw nothing he couldn't reschedule or
skip altogether. "Can you take the afternoon off?"

"Sir, are you asking me out?" she asked, with a slight mock Southern accent in
her voice. He smiled. "I am," he said. "We can meet for lunch somewhere, and
see what happens. Maybe I can prove to you just how real this really is."

"I would like that, Jack. I would like that a lot."

They agreed to meet back at the small sandwich shop at around one o'clock,
giving both of them a chance to tie up loose ends and inform their coworkers
that they'd be taking a half-day off.


Chapter 29.

Jack didn't really know what to do with himself for three hours. He finished
some paperwork and read some new incoming emails, but that killed only thirty
minutes at most. He scrolled through his current project and found a few places
that he could optimize and found and fixed one potential bug. He was lazily
scrolling through another source file when there was a light knock on his door.

He looked up and Tracie was standing there. "Hi, Tracie. Come in." She walked
in, closed the door behind her, and sat down at his guest chair.

"I just wanted to say that I'm glad you looked into that issue, and that it all
worked out like you said it would."

"I am, too, Tracie. I am, too."

"Jack, I wanted to let you know that I'm applying for a position that's opening
in quality control. They need a new programmer on the team and listed it the
other day."

"I saw the listing," he said. "I think you would be a great fit, Tracie. I will
be sorry to lose you."

"I'll be sorry to go, Jack. You have been an inspiration to me both personally
and professionally. The way you've handled everything the past few weeks and
the way you handled this Bryan thing... well, I hope I've taken something from
it all."

"I'll write you a recommendation. I'll have it for you before I leave today."

"Thanks, Jack." She stood and reached out her hand to him. He took it and shook
it. "Good luck, Tracie," he said. She smiled warmly and walked out his door. He
opened up a Word document and typed for forty five minutes, writing about her
work and the skills she had acquired and honed in his division. He didn't have
access to her performance reviews, so his words were based solely on his own
observations. He reread it, edited it, and saved it to his protected folder. He
pasted a copy into an email and sent it to her. He would miss Tracie, but the
opportunity was a good one. He couldn't fault her for wanting the move.

He watched the clock tick away the minutes, finding small things to do to pass
the time. He avoided thinking about Laura, wanting to save that all up for
their lunch date. Finally, noon rolled around and though he had originally
planned to stay a little longer, he had run out of make-work to do. He shut
down his computer, pulled on his jacket and walked out of the office.

He sat in the car in the parking lot, listening to the noontime news and had a
sudden thought. He started his car and drove to a nearby strip mall that he
passed every day but had only rarely ever stopped at. He pulled up in front of
the florist and went inside. The scent of a thousand flowers hit him - the
smell in a real, working florist was such a conglomeration of scents that he
wondered if those who worked there could appreciate it. His needs this day were
small and simple, so he shunned assistance when a harried-looking employee
asked. The woman looked almost grateful when he said he could help himself. He
spotted the self-serve cooler at the side of the shop, opened the sliding door
and picked gently through the roses. He was about to choose a white one when he
noticed a list on the door. He saw "Color Mean" but the rest was hidden by
condensation.

He closed the door and the entire list was visible: "What Does Each Rose Color
Mean?" the sheet asked. He read down the list to find white: purity, secrecy,
reverence. Well, white suddenly didn't feel like a good choice. He had no idea
what the colors meant, but Laura might. He didn't want to send the wrong
message. Red is for love, beauty, courage, and respect. It seems like a good
choice, but he scanned the rest of the list to be sure. Orange meant desire and
enthusiasm. That was certainly apropos - but he didn't see any orange roses in
the cooler. He was about to open the door to pick a red one when he saw the
definition of yellow: joy, gladness, delight, new beginnings. He decided to
take two - a red and a yellow. Even he knew that the colors clashed, but he
didn't care. He pulled out one of each and carried them, dripping stems and
all, to the counter.

The worker looked at what he chose and then up at him. "Can I venture a guess?"

"Be my guest," he said.

"You've met someone new, and you really like her - but you're not sure yet."

"That's pretty close."

The woman smiled. "It was either that or you have a courageous new friend. The
new love option seemed a safe bet. Baby's breath?"

"Yes, please," he said. He watched as she placed greens and baby's breath on a
sheet of florist's paper, then turned on the tap and snipped the roses' ends
under the flowing water. She quickly slipped each stem into a water tube and
arranged the two roses over the greens. She wrapped the entire bouquet just so
and handed it over to Jack. Jack paid and walked out with the package. He got
in his car and laid the flowers on the passenger seat. He was about to start
the car when he noticed a drug store a few doors down. He made a quick decision
and went into the store. He scanned the signs above each aisle and found what
he was looking for. He walked down the aisle and found the display. This was
something he had not bought for over a decade, since Sarah had been on the
Pill. Laura might be, too, but he didn't want to risk it. He certainly didn't
remember there being this many choices. He finally settled on a Trojan with
Shared Pleasure and Warm Sensation. He wasn't exactly sure what that all meant,
or if he'd even get to find out, but he figured it was better to be prepared.
He took his selection to the counter, which was, regrettably, staffed by a
woman in her sixties. She didn't bat an eyelash, though - he paid and left with
the condoms in a small white plastic bag.

It was now nearly one, so he drove to the sandwich shop. Though he thought he
was too early, he saw Laura's car already in one of the parking spaces. He
quickly parked, grabbed the flowers, and hurried into the shop. Laura was
seated at one of the small tables. She must have gone home, because she was not
dressed in her usual work clothes: she wore comfortable jeans and a
long-sleeved, black shirt. She wore a necklace with a small diamond that hung
over her chest. Her hair was down, like it had been the first night he'd seen
her, and flowing down her back. She was stunning. She was watching him as he
walked in and smiled broadly. "Hi," she said. Jack held out the flowers and
said, "Hi. These are for you."

Laura took the small bundle, opened the top, and looked at the flowers. She
smiled and smelled one of the roses. "Thank you, Jack. I love roses." She
thought for a minute and then said, "New love?"

He smiled and said, "Something like that." He sat down in the chair beside her
and he said, "You look wonderful."

She blushed and said, "My heart's aflutter, Jack. I feel like a schoolgirl."

"I know what you mean." He indicated the menu board. "Are you hungry?"

"Maybe in a bit. I have some business to take care of first."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." She reached under the table and handed him a manila envelope. "These
are the papers for the settlement. They moved really fast, and they arrived
FedEx this morning. I asked Roger to keep me up to date on the case, but they
came addressed to me. If you sign them, we can get them back to him today. You
could have a check early next week."

Jack took the envelope and looked at it. He set it aside. "It can wait," he
said. "I'm going to need help deciding what to do with some of this money. I
want to put it to good use."

"If you want to honor your family, you'll know best what to do with it."

Jack nodded. "Let's figure that out later, too." He reached across the table
and took her hands into his. "Right now, I want to focus on you." He was about
to say more when a small group of friends pushed the door of the shop open and
came in laughing and talking. "Do you want to go for a walk?" he asked.

"Yes," she said and she stood up. "There's a little park down the road," he
said, they grabbed hands and walked out of the little mall and turned up the
road. Within a couple minutes, they were at the edge of the park's parking lot.
They passed a half dozen minivans. He could see kids running around the park,
the moms gathered in a group by the swings. Jack and Laura walked past the vans
and toward the green. They walked in silence, hand in hand, until Jack spotted
a lone park bench in a deserted corner of the park. "Let's go sit," he said,
indicating the bench. They sat on the cold, hard wood, and Laura shivered a bit
against the chill.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

"A little, but if you hold my hands, it'll take my mind off of it." She smiled
at him and he took her hands in his again. "Jack," she said, "this is moving
pretty fast. I was thinking about you all morning. What I did last night,
giving up that commission... I was trying to prove myself to Pam, to myself,
and to you. Goodness knows I've never given up a commission like that before,
but I couldn't take the chance."

"Chance of what?"

"The chance that Pam would think that I would compromise myself or a client, or
the chance that I would doubt myself, or the chance that you would doubt me or
my motives. When I first started working with you, I was sad for you, you were
just a client. But that first night, something was stirred up in me. I tried to
ignore it, but you were in my thoughts, even my dreams. I couldn't believe that
it could be real - but now, here, like this, it feels so real."

Jack watched her as she spoke. She was worried that doing something was making
a mistake, yet worried that doing nothing was more of one. He didn't want her
to be worried either way. His heart warmed despite the chill, and he took the
moment to lean in to her and kiss her. She didn't respond to the first kiss,
but then he kissed her again and she kissed him back. He slid closer to her and
moved an arm behind her, then gripped her to him. They kissed again, a little
harder, and kept kissing until they were both breathing hard. He pulled back
from her a bit and looked her in the eye.

"Laura, this is real. I can't tell what the future will bring more than anyone,
but I have a really good feeling about you. I hope you do about me, too." She
kissed him and then said, "I do." He hugged her and felt her shiver again.

"You're cold," he said and he stood. "Let's go."

She stood and said, "Where to?"

"How about your place?"

She looked up at him and smiled. "Yes," she said, and they started walking back
to his car.


Chapter 30.

They took Jack's car from the sandwich shop, leaving hers behind for later
retrieval. Jack drove as Laura directed. He had not heard of her road, but when
he got to it, he realized he had driven on it several times in the past.
Usually it was while running errands of various kinds. She held his hand while
they drove, and stroked the back of his hand with her free hand. He drove
single-handed because he did not want to let go of her. She had a small house,
Craftsman-style, about fifty or sixty years old. "Pull right under the
breezeway," she said, and he did. "Home sweet home," she said. She was excited
that he was there with her, and she opened the door as soon as he stopped,
saying, "Come on, come in!"

Her enthusiasm was infectious and he shut off the car and hopped out as fast as
he could. She unlocked the side door and opened it for him. He went in and
looked around. The door opened into the kitchen, and from his vantage point he
could see the entire kitchen, a breakfast area, and a living room. A small
wide-screen TV sat atop a low pedestal obviously designed just for that model.
The kitchen was a combination of old and new - the appliances were all sleek
black, but the wall covering, though obviously very new, looked like it came
straight out of the fifties. Jack saw a gaggle of shoes laid out in neat rows,
so he took his off. She shut the door behind them and slipped her sneakers off.
She looked up at him and placed her hand on his chest. "Welcome to my home,
Jack," she said. "I want you to see my bedroom."

Jack smiled and said, "I want to see it, too."

"Would you like some wine?" she asked.

He thought for a split second - he had not eaten since the buffet at the hotel
this morning, but a glass would be nice, and could help to ease his jitters.
"Yes, I would," he said.

"Good," she said, "I need some to calm the butterflies." She started to walk
into the kitchen and he caught her hand with his and pulled her gently back to
him. He moved to her and kissed her. He felt her smile on his lips and he
smiled back. They broke and walked together into the kitchen. She had a small
wine rack and pulled out a bottle of something white. She opened a drawer and
pulled out a corkscrew and handed it and the bottle to him. He removed the cork
while Laura opened a cupboard and pulled out two glasses.

She held his hand as he carried the bottle and she carried the two glasses down
a short hallway, painted in white with colorful paintings spaced evenly. At the
end was a white door. She opened it and revealed her bedroom. The shades were
already drawn halfway down, with translucent chiffon covering the bottom half.
There was a bed with large posts, a formal-looking padded chair in one corner,
and a tall dresser on the wall opposite the bed. She set the glasses down on a
night table, and Jack followed her and poured them each a half glass of the
wine. He put the bottle down and picked up his glass as she picked up hers.
"Here's to us," he said and he touched his glass to hers. They took sips of the
wine, and then Jack leaned in to her and kissed her. His mouth opened and his
tongue pushed between her lips. She received him and he tasted the wine in her
mouth. Their bodies came together as they continued to kiss.

She broke away and placed her glass on the table. She took his glass and placed
it beside hers. She looked up to him with her eyes wide with anticipation and
trepidation. "Jack," she whispered. "Make love with me."

He smiled and touched her face. "I want nothing more, Laura."

She moved until the back of her knees were up against the bed. He stood back
and pulled the small box of Trojans from his breast pocket. "I hoped these
wouldn't be presumptuous," he said, sheepish.

"No, Jack," she said, "they're a good idea." He placed the box on the night
stand and took off his jacket and turned to place it on the chair. When he
turned back, she had removed her shirt and was about to unclasp her white bra.
"Let me do that," he said. He moved next to her, leaned down, and kissed her
bare shoulder. Her hand moved to the back of his neck and held him gently. He
turned her around and disconnected the pair of hooks and eyes that held the bra
together. He slipped the shoulder straps off and the bra fell to the ground. As
she turned back around, he pulled off his shirt. Her breasts were
well-proportioned, with small, dark areolae and erect nipples. They began
kissing again and then he felt her hands at his waist. She stopped kissing him
and stood back a bit so she could unbuckle his belt. Within a few seconds, his
pants were at his feet. He stepped out of them and kicked them under the chair.
His excitement was apparent, but still hidden as he left his briefs on. He got
down on one knee before her and kissed the well at her navel, then returned the
favor, unbuckling the slender belt and unbuttoned her jeans. When he slid her
loose-fitting jeans off her, he saw a bright white pair of bikini panties. He
kissed her again where the waistband met the soft skin under her belly.

She reached down and pulled him up to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck
and they kissed each other in their mostly-nakedness for a long time. Finally
they were both ready to move on. They did not bother pulling back the bed
sheets - she simply pushed him onto the bed and stood at the side of the bed.
She pulled off her panties, revealing all of herself to him. He somewhat
awkwardly pulled his underwear off, too. She reached down to the package of
condoms, opened the box, and ripped one of the packages open. She held the
rolled latex in her hand and got on the bed. "We need this now," she said.

Jack and Laura spent all of the daylight hours in bed that day. By the time
night hit, they had made love several times and each knew the other's body as
well as could be expected. The wine bottle had been drained, and they spent
many moments whispering to each other, laughing, kissing, tasting, feeling.

Jack felt like he was starting a new life. In the darkness, as he held her in
his arms, he felt a oneness with her. He thought that Sarah would approve. His
old story had ended. This was Jack's new story. He hoped the ending was a long
time coming.



Fin.




Steve Mount 11/14/2006