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## Your Kiss Is Like the Sweetest Fire

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By Robert Trainor

Copyright 2014

By Robert Trainor

Smashwords Edition

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes.

## Prologue

That first time! It had all begun while they were walking along a suburban street near their house, talking in a secret language that only they could understand—sometimes, she would lean over and whisper into his ear as if she were telling him the world's greatest secret. She had always done that, practically from day one, but this time it was different. At first, he thought it was because they had hardly ever walked at this time of night before—and what a night it was! A warm and wild twilight in early May, with the strange whisperings of a gentle southern wind that made the new spring leaves rustle around with all their ghostly intimations. Another kind of whisper from another kind of God.

She had wanted to cut off the road and walk down to the old mill pond where they had so often hung out together. He wasn't thinking about anything at all, not yet anyways, as they drifted along with the wind, the whispering wind. As usual, she was walking in front of him and leading the way—just the most intense, determined person he had ever met. But tonight, there was something else in the air, something sweet—later, he could remember saying to himself that "it was something like forever."

Only two young fools like themselves would walk down to the pond at this time of night. Lucky that the moon was full because by the time they reached there, it was so dark that they wouldn't have been able to see two feet in front of them. She told him that she wanted to sit on a bench near the water, the bench they always sat on when they came to this place--it was their special place in the world, the place where they always spoke their truest thoughts, the place where nobody existed outside of themselves.

As twilight turned into night, he began to feel spooked because he knew that she was leading him to a lot more than a bench by a pond. It was the first time he had ever felt sexually attracted to her, but even so, it seemed like he was being dragged into it. Dragged was hardly the right word, and he probably only used it to cover up the fact that what they were doing was really wrong. He should never be thinking this way—it was awful! He should never...he should just tell her that it was too dark and they should go back to their house. But it was a little too late for that—she had taken his hand in hers and was leading him down the path that led to the bench, the path that led to forever.

Or maybe he was just possessed by evil thoughts and was imagining everything. There was something about her that had always made his imagination go into overdrive, but until now, the fantasies hadn't been about anything sexual, not exactly--more like sensual memories about the way she talked, the tone of her voice, the clever intonations, and most of all, the endless, subtle hints that seemed to point in only one direction.

The night before, she had told him that they lived in a world where no one really understood them or knew what was running through their hearts. But tonight, he was hoping that even she wouldn't be able to sense what was running through his heart. Not good—not good at all. Because he knew for an absolute fact that they were approaching a line they definitely shouldn't cross. It was so wrong that it was wrong to even have to say it was wrong. But...if, God forbid, it did happen, then that meant that not only was he wrong, but also, she would have to be wrong. She couldn't be wrong—not when it came to something like this. And also, it would mean that this strange swirling wind on this night of the full moon would have to be wrong. And if everything was wrong and he was being led into a wrong thing, a terribly wrong thing, then it must be that he was just fated to be doomed or something. Because no one in their right mind would let them get away with this. Somehow or other, the truth would come out, and when it did...he didn't want to think about what would happen, but he knew that it would be very bad—both for him and for her.

## CHAPTER ONE: THE BASEMENT MAN

1

Adeline, Pennsylvania, is a suburban town that lies about forty miles northwest of Pittsburgh. Centered in a pleasant valley, through which runs the Saugus River, Adeline is an upscale community of nearly fifty thousand people that offers many excellent opportunities for employment. On the northern end of town is Lexan Enterprises, a large factory that makes computer chips, while seven miles down the road is the Saugus Woolen Mills, which employs almost a thousand people. And so, even during the recession years of 2007-2012, the unemployment rate in Adeline had never gone above 3%, and when one drives through the streets of the town, it is not uncommon to come across neighborhoods where the homes are selling for a half-million dollars.

It would, however, be inaccurate to portray Adeline as a wealthy man's paradise. Riverside Boulevard, which runs the entire length of the town, is particularly depressing—four lanes that are constantly clogged with traffic and are bounded by auto repair shops, gas stations, cheesy restaurants, dilapidated apartments, closed up storefronts, and a whole string of ugly messes that are so common to urban areas.

Politically, Adeline is conservative--the mayors, elected every three years, have all been Republicans since the Great Depression, with one notable exception. In 1985, the town elected its first Democratic Mayor since 1934, a former used-car salesman named Adrian Benson. Adrian was a smooth talker and probably could have sold a tricycle to his grandmother if he hadn't been possessed with some semblance of a conscience. Unfortunately, Adrian's conscience had its limits, and towards the end of his term, it was discovered that he was a regular customer at an escort service in Pittsburgh.

However, except for the unfortunate memories associated with Adrian and the constant presence of the Riverside Boulevard eyesore, Adeline was a pleasant, picturesque town with an outstanding track record. Both of its high schools are ranked as among the best in the state, and there hasn't been a murder in over two years—in fact, the crime rate is among the best in the country, if not the world. The streets are well-kept, the houses are beautiful, and the money is everywhere. What more could anyone want?

2

Jack and Rachel Hastings lived about two miles from Riverside Boulevard on Somerset Drive—somewhat misnamed because, after a half-mile, the "drive" came to a dead end. Jack had bought their pleasant, spacious three-bedroom house for a quarter-million dollars in 1995, a few years before the real estate boom exploded. By now, in early December of 2012, Jack liked to joke that if the assessed value went over a million, he'd have to put the house on the market. "At that price, it would be ridiculous not to sell," he said, at one of his family's many get-togethers with the Harringtons. Melissa and Dave Harrington lived less than a mile away—Melissa was Rachel's sister, and the four of them saw each other frequently.

Dave didn't think it was such a bad thing to have an overvalued house. "It doesn't bother me," he said to Jack. "I'm looking at the house as my retirement plan."

Jack snorted derisively as he polished off the rest of his third gin and tonic. "I'm telling you, Dave—at a certain point, the real estate market begins to seem like a Ponzi scheme that's about to go bad. In another year, I'll have the mortgage paid off, and I could just take the money and rent until the crash comes. Now that the Democrats are lording it over us in Washington, the crash can't be far away."

Dave had known Jack for a little over fifteen years, but he kept his own political feelings to himself. It was senseless to talk to Jack about anything related to politics because he exaggerated everything to the point where it seemed like Democrats were either child molesters or drug addicts. "It doesn't matter," he said to Jack, "in four years we'll have another president."

"Thank God for term limits--if we didn't have them, Barry O would be there until he was ninety. This whole country has turned into a colossal countercultural mess—everywhere you go, you run into somebody who looks like they just got off the boat from--"

Just then, the front door opened and Jack and Rachel's two kids, Jaime and Renee, came into the room. Dave liked both of them--they were now seventeen and sixteen, respectively, and were well-mannered, happy teenagers who, as far as he knew, had never caused anyone much trouble. They certainly weren't at all like his rambunctious kids who were always running around in souped-up cars driven by a lot of shady characters. Andy had already, at fifteen, been busted for drugs; Ashley, now sixteen, was on the pill for very obvious reasons; and Tricia had gone an entirely different but equally unpleasant route—she'd been an anorexic since the day she became a teenager, almost seven years ago.

"Hey, kids—where have you been?" asked Jack

"The mall—where else?" said Renee. She took off her coat and placed it on a hook, and Dave had to force himself to take his eyes off her. Renee was definitely going to be a beautiful woman—no question about that! Dark brown hair, a nice figure, and a cute and impish face that was capable of a thousand different expressions. And since Renee was rather tall, almost five-foot eight, Dave could picture her as a fashion model.

'I hope you were buying me my Christmas present and not lavishing money on yourself," said Jack, in a humorous tone.

"No, Dad, I'm buying Mom's present, and Jaime is buying yours."

"So what did you get me?" said Jack to Jaime.

Jaime had dark blond hair and a slim, wiry build. Once again, Dave couldn't help but be envious—Jaime was just so everlastingly polite and clean looking. He would have bet a thousand dollars that the kid had never touched alcohol or marijuana.

Before Jaime could say anything, Rachel and Melissa came into the room--the two of them had been holed up in the kitchen for over an hour as they held one of their endless confabs on what to cook for the upcoming Christmas dinner.

Rachel, with her large-framed black glasses and angular, austere figure was a rather homely woman, and Jack had often remarked to himself that she was nothing to brag about. Her sister, however, was quite a different story—even though Melissa was in her early forties and had borne three children she was, according to Jack's private observations, quite the looker.

Jack knew, of course, that it was hardly honorable to be fantasizing about his wife's sister, but his life had become so boring that he couldn't really stop himself. In fact, about the only things that still interested him were his gin and tonics and his top-secret attempts to flirt with Melissa.

Had he received any encouragement from her? No, not really, but...

3

Jack was a dentist by trade, and he had met Rachel after she became one of his assistants. Back then, in 1993, she was reasonably attractive, and it wasn't long before they began to take their relationship to another, much less professional level. For Jack, being around an available woman for five or six hours a day proved to be too much of a temptation to resist. He was only twenty-eight at the time, and to be frank, he was more than a little sex-starved when he became involved with Rachel. Nowadays, of course, he realized all too well that he was suffering from buyer's remorse—a little too quick on the trigger, and now he was paying the price. Big time!

As often happens, Jack didn't seem to realize that he was also nothing to brag about. Like Rachel, he wore glasses, was only five-foot seven, a little bit rotund, to put it delicately, and as bald as bald can be. He had, however, learned to ignore his downside and assumed that because of his wealth, he was a hot item. His dental practice was among the most respected in town, so he was raking in cash hand over fist. "Thank God for all the idiots who don't bother to take care of their teeth," he would remark, with some amusement. "You should see the dirty looks I get when I tell teenagers to floss. But there's no point in arguing with them because, eventually, they'll just end up becoming another one of my many cash cows. It's amazing how far you can get in life when you realize that other people's stupidity can work to your advantage. Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to apply to me and Obama—all he's ever done is figure out another way to tax me." To be fair, Jack's tax bill was significant since he had over two hundred grand stashed away in various bank accounts, gold stocks, and money market firms. He was certainly no fool when it came to investing money—he had, for instance, pulled out of the stock market about a year before the 2006 crash hit and had then made an enormous amount of money by taking his stock proceeds and investing entirely in gold.

Meanwhile, Rachel had gradually lost her zest for life and was becoming somewhat of a phobic. She was very fastidious to the point of obsession and drove Jack crazy with all her kitchen rules. Glasses in the second and third cabinets! Small ones in front! This pot here, that pot there. They had a digital alarm clock in their bedroom, and Rachel was very particular about what time she left the bed in the morning because, to her, some numbers were nothing but bad luck. Anything with a 9 in it was a total no go, and a 7 wasn't so hot either. Jack wanted to send her to a psychiatrist but Rachel refused because "all they'll try to do is change my way of thinking." She was also an agoraphobic, which meant that she rarely left the house. Too dangerous!

The only upside to the agoraphobia was that Jack didn't have to appear with Rachel in public and go through the motions of introducing her as his wife. The last time that had happened, the look of pity he had received was enough to turn his stomach. Originally, shortly after they had married, the two of them would take trips to fancy places like the Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls, but the best Rachel could manage now were excursions to the supermarket. And, of course, they couldn't leave the house when any figure on the clock had a seven or a nine in it. Once they were inside the supermarket, Rachel always wore large sunglasses, even in winter, and skittered around as if she thought the Mafia was in the next aisle.

Rachel was an excellent housekeeper and a fairly good cook, but it wasn't really restaurant quality, which isn't saying much. Still, it was good enough for Jack who couldn't do much more than boil his own eggs in the morning, but in the evening, when Rachel's obsessive-compulsive nonsense was reaching its zenith, he would mix himself a monster gin and tonic and go out to the living room while she was preparing dinner. There, he would switch on the tube and listen to the wild ravings of the national newscasters. The gin and tonic was mandatory because without it, he would never have been able to endure the almost unbearable torture of having to listen to clips of Barry O and all his cohorts as they scurried around with one insane tax plan after another, all of which would end up costing him more money.

Early in their marriage, Rachel had a miscarriage, and after that occurred, she became extremely antagonistic to another pregnancy. Her doctor had told her that because of her build and her bones, any pregnancy would result in a long, difficult, and painful childbirth. Because of this, Jack had reluctantly agreed to go the adoption route, but except for their immediate families no one knew that Jamie and Renee had been adopted. Rachel had wanted to tell them when they were about ten years old, but Jack had put his foot down and squashed that idiotic idea.

Jack could still remember the night he had fought with Rachel about it. "Listen," he said to his wife as he dumped a shot of gin into his half-filled glass, "I know exactly what it's like to be adopted."

"Jack, I know that you were adopted, but I can't see what's wrong with telling them. Didn't your parents tell you?"

"Of course they did—otherwise, how would I know I was adopted? But in the end, all it did was ruin my relationship with them."

"Why's that?"

"How do you think it made me feel when they told me I was adopted?"

"I would think—"

"Rachel, what difference does it make what you think? I was the one who had to go through the experience and suffer the consequences. I don't know how many times my phony Mom and my phony Dad told me that I was their little man and a whole lot of other nonsense that made me feel like I was something special. And then, to find out that I had been bought like a side of disposable beef—I just...I can't even begin to put it into words."

Rachel wondered what disposable beef was but decided it was better to go along with Jack. He had, after all, compromised on the decision to adopt them, and anyways, for all she knew, he might be right.

4

Although he had shown little enthusiasm for the adoptions, Jack soon became fond of his two kids. At least they hadn't received a couple of lemons from the adoption agency. Both of them were healthy, and while Renee (named after Rachel's grandmother) could be over-exuberant, Jaime (named after a character in Rachel's favorite soap opera) was the kind of kid, so rare nowadays, who minded his own business and didn't keep asking for things until you were ready to scream. And both of them were lookers! When Jack was out and about with them, even when they were only seven and eight years old, he felt like he finally had something to brag about. They were just so cute together! He bought a camera early on and was always taking pictures of them. And Rachel, who hardly ever bought any clothes for herself, was constantly lavishing a small part of Jack's fortune on the kids' wardrobes—always through mail order, of course--but Jack didn't mind because the end result was that these two kids looked sharp. Modern, hip, little movie stars--whatever words you wanted to put to them.

If there was a downside to Renee and Jaime it was their casual disinterest in school. Neither of them ever showed much excitement for any of their teachers or classes, but even so, their grades weren't too bad—mostly B students, but the problem was that they both seemed to assume they were going to college. Jack knew that with the combination of his wealth and their tepid academic performances, his kids wouldn't be receiving any scholarships, which meant that he was on the verge of being scalped alive by the rampaging thieves in academia. Rachel was dreaming of big-time schools for her little sweethearts, but Jack had other plans. He had already had a heart-to-heart with Jaime, who had quickly acquiesced to Jack's plan of sending him to a local community college at a mere three grand a year. What a great kid! Jack had also convinced Jaime that the best thing would be to learn a trade—either plumbing or electrical because those characters made a fortune. "Now you'll be able," he told Jaime, "to stuff all that Shakespearian nonsense down the toilet and flush it straight to Washington because it's impossible to make a dime off that outdated malarkey. However, when I had that moron electrician out here last year to fix the wiring in the basement, he hit me up for a hundred and ten bucks an hour! That comes out to almost what Obama makes, and he deserves about ten cents an hour."

Renee, however, had bigger dreams and was contemplating a four-year school, and when Jack had gone over the fancy brochures from some of the places she was considering, he had to leave the room and mix himself a double. Or maybe it was a triple. Later on that night, he had received a lecture from Rachel, who thought his whole attitude was ridiculous. "Look, Jack, all Renee wants to do is further her education—how's she going to get anywhere in life with just a high school diploma?"

As if that were his problem! "Rachel, what about the community college?"

"Are you serious? It may be good enough for Jaime, but I want Renee to become a teacher, so she'll need four years of college—not only that, she'll have to go to graduate school. So start saving your money, Jack--she's going to need it because I'm not going to stand by and watch her become a beggar in the streets."

"Rachel—"

"And while we're discussing things, I think it would be a good idea if you would cut back on those highballs of yours."

"They're not highballs, Rachel—they're gin and tonics."

"Whatever they are—you're drinking way too much lately. I don't know how you can work on people's teeth when I see the way you look as you're leaving here in the morning. If I were sitting in the chair and saw you approaching me with a drill, I think I'd scream."

Naturally, Jack was tempted to lash out at his wife. In fact, with her looks, he was tempted to scream morning, noon, and night. He had to admit, however, that Rachel was probably right about the gin and tonics because over the past month, he'd botched two root canals and a crown. Jack knew that his mistakes were just the result of the endless monotony of his life, but it was difficult for him to find any solution to the problem. Eventually, after some serious thought upon this important issue, he had recently come to the conclusion that a woman with a hot physique was the answer. He knew from experience that it was way too risky to fool around with a patient, not that anyone seemed tempted lately, and his receptionist and assistants were all going through their raving-about-the-boyfriend stage. It was sickening to listen to that kind of adolescent drivel. You didn't have to be a cryptographer to decipher what the winks and innuendoes were all about.

As Jack snuck off into the basement where he kept a stash of gin, he considered his options. Opening up a drawer in his desk, he took out his favorite picture of Melissa—the one that he had secretly taken of her when she was wearing a bikini. Man, she was a hottie. If only...if only Dave would divorce her! He knew that those two didn't have the best marriage in the world because Rachel had told him about all their problems. She was probably exaggerating because Rachel was a compulsive exaggerator, but everyone knew that Dave was no wizard when it came to money. "They've got debt right up to their eyeballs" was how Rachel had put it. Dave had a reasonably decent job—he was a foreman at the woolen mills—but he liked to gamble, and besides that ferociously stupid habit, he was always buying things that he would lose interest in almost as soon as they arrived. "He's a financial wreck," said Rachel, with real animosity.

And then, just while he was trying to figure out a way to use all this information to his advantage, he had met Melissa in the mall.

5

It was about a month before Christmas, and Jack had popped into the mall on his way home from work to buy some high-priced cigars. Nowadays, he almost always retreated to the basement after dinner so that he could escape from his Nervous Nellie wife who was always prophesizing that the end of the world was near whenever there was a disaster somewhere. Big deal—as far as Jack was concerned, his whole life was a disaster. To cover his tracks, he'd told Rachel that he was working on a new patent for crowns and couldn't be disturbed—just to make it really clear to her that he meant business, he'd bought two padlocks and put one on each side of the door to the basement. The lock on the outside of the door would prevent anyone from entering his subterranean castle when he wasn't there, while the lock on the inside part of the door would prevent Rachel from storming down the stairs and bothering him with one of her miserable complaints. Peace! He could now pour himself a few gin and tonics, smoke a stogie, and flick through some first-rate pornography on his basement computer.

He had just left the smoke shop at the mall when he ran into Melissa. Such a desirable woman—maybe she wasn't quite as ravishing as Jack liked to imagine, but she was definitely up there. Blond hair, probably dyed, that was cut shoulder length in a sexy way, green eyes, an appealing smile, and...what was it about her? Somehow, even though it probably wasn't true, she presented herself as a woman who was sexually available. Tight skirts, a little cleavage in the blouses, just the right weight in just the right places.

Melissa was strolling around the mall with a distracted look on her face and would have passed by Jack if he hadn't noticed her. "Melissa—how are you?"

Startled, she looked at him and said, "Oh my God, I didn't see you, Jack. What are you doing down here at this time of day?"

Naturally, he wasn't going to tell her about the stogies, so he said, "Just trying to line up some Christmas presents for Rachel."

"Aren't you a sweetheart?" To Jack, her voice sounded wistful, as if she was longing for those days when she had actually had a sweetheart, days that were now, hopefully, long gone.

"Have you got a few minutes?" he said, in an optimistic tone of voice. "There's a coffee shop right around the corner—I did nothing but root canals today, so I'm in desperate need of caffeine."

"Sure," she said, after a moment's hesitation. Looking at her wristwatch, she said, "I don't have to be home for another half hour."

Five minutes later, they were seated at a small table near the back of the shop. Jack had never really been alone with her before, and he felt that if he could just figure out the right approach, he might be able to get somewhere. Deep down, everyone had a complaint or a problem—he just had to find out what hers was. "Rachel tells me that you've started to look for a job."

"No, not really."

"But Rachel said that—"

"I was thinking about it last fall because we were a little strapped for cash, but Dave and I decided that we can get by on his salary."

"Doesn't he make a fortune at the woolen mills?"

"Is that what he told you?"

"Sort of—he's always made it sound like the woolen mills was his personal gold mine." Dave had never said anything like that, but Jack felt there was no harm in sticking the knife in a little bit because if a guy was so lame with money that his wife had been forced to consider trolling for a job, he deserved it.

"Jack, it's just that we have so many bills. I don't see how you and Rachel do it."

Jack knew that money was his trump card, so he played it. "Money isn't really a problem for us, Melissa. If I told you the amount of money I had in gold stocks, you'd be shocked."

Melissa gave him an appraising look and said, "I don't suppose you even have a credit card."

"I do, but I pay the balance off every month."

"Jack, to tell you the truth, I don't actually know what our position is financially because Dave is the one who writes out all the checks. I know we have credit card bills, plus we have the original mortgage and a home equity loan. Is it true that if you default on a home equity loan, the bank can foreclose on you?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Dave told me recently that the home equity loan is maxed out—to the tune of...I don't even remember what it is, but it's a lot."

"I would never have suspected it, Melissa—it sounds like you're really in hot water." Jack was, of course, secretly ecstatic at all this bad news—now the question was how to convert it into something tangible. With a sigh, he said, "I guess we all have our problems. Sometimes, I envy you and Dave."

"You do? Why's that?"

Now it was time to stick the knife into Rachel—and boy, did she ever deserve it. "At least you two have each other. I don't want to talk about it too much because you're Rachel's sister, but she and I were a lot happier ten years ago than we are now."

"That's just something that happens in a marriage," said Melissa, in a dismissive tone of voice.

Jack could see that this line of attack wasn't working, so he switched back to his trumps. "I just don't understand how you incurred so much debt."

"It's a long story, Jack...Dave had—I don't think I should talk about it."

"Rachel told me that he likes to gamble."

"God, she's quite the blabbermouth, isn't she? Anyways, Dave doesn't gamble anymore, but it's kind of like the damage has been done."

"Maybe I could help you out, Melissa."

"Help me out? What are you talking about?"

"A loan—you know, just some money to get you through the next few months."

"I don't think so, Jack—it's kind of you to offer, but...maybe I could talk to Dave about it."

"Melissa, I don't mean to embarrass you, but because of Dave's gambling problem, the only way it makes sense for me to loan you money is if I give it directly to you."

"Dave doesn't gamble anymore, Jack—it's just that we have so much debt."

"I'd still rather give the money to you because if I gave him a large sum of money, he might be tempted to go back to his old habits. Trust me--it will be better for everyone if he knows nothing about this."

"But...what would I do with the money? The mortgages and credit cards are all in his name, and like I said, he's the one who pays the bills."

"Just tell him that someone in your family, like your grandmother, gave you a little bit of money, and—"

"Both my grandmothers are dead, Jack."

"Any relative—it doesn't matter who it is. And then, if you're the one controlling the money, you can make sure that it goes to the mortgages and not something else."

"But I have no idea when we'd be able to pay you back. It's not like we ever run a surplus in our house—you'd probably just be throwing your money away, even if it was for a good cause."

Jack hadn't thought about this angle, but with the amount of money he had stashed away, the pittance he was thinking of giving to Melissa didn't even qualify as throwing money away. "OK," he said, "I understand what you're saying, but you are Rachel's sister. I can give you a thousand and then—"

"Give?" She sounded shocked.

"Loan you a thousand, because the last thing I want to happen is for you to be thrown out of your house."

After a long pause, she said, "I don't know, Jack--I'm not really sure it's right to take money from you."

"You're not taking it from me because it's a loan—all I'm trying to do is help your family."

"But...OK...alright--I guess so. I really do appreciate this—I think I'll just keep the money in reserve so that if there is an unexpected expense, we won't be swamped."

"That's a good idea. Do you have your own bank account, Melissa?"

"Sure—it's just a checking account."

Jack took out his checkbook, wrote her a check for fifteen hundred dollars, and handed it to her.

"I'm really grateful for this, Jack." Looking at the check, she said, "I thought you said it was going to be for a thousand."

"That doesn't get you very far nowadays, Melissa. And look, we'll have to keep in touch. I'd like to know how it's going, and you might need some more money." She started to object, but he interrupted her and said, "Just until you can whittle the mortgages down and take control of your life. You've got to rein him in, Melissa."

"It's not really anything Dave is doing—it's just that the interest on all our loans and cards is crushing us."

"OK—don't forget that I'm here if you need me." He scribbled down his cell phone number on a napkin and handed it to her. "Call me on this number if you need help, and we can meet down here, just like we did today. And—I almost forgot—whatever you do, don't mention this to Rachel. She's suddenly developed a fear that we're about to go bankrupt, and if she hears that I'm loaning money to you, then she'll have a nervous breakdown."

"Well," said Melissa, as she put the check into her purse, "we certainly wouldn't want that to happen."

## CHAPTER TWO: YES OR NO? PLEASE REPLY.

1

Above the basement, life proceeded down a different path. While Rachel fiddled around with the glasses, teapots, and pans in the kitchen, Jaime and Renee were pretty much left to fend for themselves. Usually, after dinner, they hung out in the living room and watched TV for an hour or so, but that all invariably came to a screeching halt at exactly nine P.M. when Rachel would come into the room and say—word for word, every time—"Have you done your lessons yet?" She was talking about their homework, which both of them found boring and meaningless, but their mother would never let them stay in front of the TV after nine, even if they claimed that they had finished their assignments. "That's no why to talk, children. If you've completed your lessons, then you should go over them again—otherwise, you'll never amount to anything. Now go upstairs and attend to your books." So, with no other options, Renee and Jaime would trudge off to their respective bedrooms where, after twenty or thirty minutes of attempting to please their mother, they would while away the rest of the night with one diversion after another.

Sometimes, when Jamie and Renee were alone, like when they were walking to the high school together, the two of them would joke about their parents.

"Have you done your lessons yet, Jaime?" Renee was a fantastic mimic and really had their mother down cold.

"You know why she always kicks us out of there at nine?" said Jaime.

"It must be because she wants to watch TV, and she can't stand us being around. Can you believe it?" she said, with a funny shriek. "She still calls us children!"

"One day," said Jaime, "I asked her why we couldn't watch TV after nine, and she told me that the programs were for older people, and that if we watched them, we'd learn bad habits."

"Sometimes," said Renee, "I think I'm a bit actor in the Creep and Freak show."

"And Dad's the Creep?"

"Of course—don't you ever wonder what he does down in the basement all night?"

"I always thought that he just wanted to get away from Mom."

"Who doesn't? But even so," said Renee, as she kicked a pebble along in front of her, "what do you suppose he does down there?"

"He told me that he was working on a new patent for crowns."

Renee laughed scornfully. "And you believed him?"

"I guess so," said Jaime, who had never considered what his father might be doing.

Renee stopped abruptly, looked at Jaime, and said, "Well, Mr. Hastings, I guess you do need to spend some time on your lessons."

"You...you know what he's doing?"

"No idea," she said in a hostile tone of voice, "but I'll bet you anything that it's something creepy."

As he thought about what Renee had said, Jaime began to sense something ominous in the creep word. "You mean...what are you talking about Renee?"

She had found another pebble and was kicking it along as they turned down the short street that led to the high school. "I don't know—it's just a feeling that I get when I'm around him...like he's trying to look through my clothes or something."

A lot of things were suddenly going through Jaime's mind. He was certainly no fan of his father, but he didn't think he would go _that_ far. Or would he? Earlier that year, a woman from a social services agency had come to the high school and talked to Jamie's class about sexual abuse. He remembered now that she had told them people were often reluctant to tell others they had been abused. Instead, they might drop hints. Was that what Renee had just done?

He stopped and held out his hand to stop her so that she would turn and face him. "Renee, this is important—has he...has Dad ever done anything to you?"

He could tell that she knew what he meant, and she shook her head negatively before she said, "No, but I don't like to be around him—especially if we're alone." This time, she found a pebble and kicked it as hard as she could.

"Renee—"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore, Jaime. It's a sad thing to say, but as far as I'm concerned, my father is the most disgusting person alive."

2

After that conversation, which took place when Renee was fourteen, Jaime began to watch out for Renee. He was her brother, and he felt protective towards her, so he tried to never leave her alone with their father. As it turned out, that didn't consume much of his time because Jack seemed to be avoiding everyone as his treks to the basement became more and more frequent. Even so, Renee had developed a real attitude about their father and often talked to Jaime about him. "One of these days," she said to Jaime, "someone is going to go into the basement and find a dead body, or maybe it will be something even worse. Every time I see him I feel like throwing up."

Because Renee was so concerned about it, Jaime became determined to find out what their father was doing in the basement. The lock to the door was a cheap padlock, and Jaime realized that there was probably a spare key to it. He knew that his Dad kept one of the keys on his keychain, but where was the other one? Maybe in his dresser drawer—he remembered that when his father had bought the new car a couple of years ago, he had told his mother that he was putting the second key in the top dresser drawer. So later that day, he crept ("like father, like son," he joked to himself) into his mother and father's bedroom, and there, just where he thought it might be, he found what looked like a a couple of spare keys to a padlock.

Two days later, when his mother and father were making a quick run to the supermarket, he was able to use one of the spare keys to enter the basement. Jaime had Renee stand guard so that if they suddenly reappeared, he could make it upstairs in time. "No way would you ever get me to go down there," said Renee.

By this time, because of Renee's fears, Jaime was spooked. He had flipped the light switch on at the top of the stairs, and he also had a flashlight with him, so when he reached the cellar floor, he was able to see what was around him without any difficulty. It was, he thought, just like the movies. And in the movies, didn't the creepy guy always come back sooner than expected? If that happened, what could he tell his father? That he was looking for one of his old toys? Slightly panicked, he waved the flashlight around—in front of him was an old desk with a computer on it, along with a plush new swivel chair that he knew his father had bought recently.

Otherwise, there wasn't much to see. Twenty feet in the other direction was the oil burner, and across from that, the oil tank. And then, scattered throughout the basement were a lot of discarded odds and ends that could now be officially categorized as junk. Just to please Renee, Jaime walked around with the flashlight and checked the floor to make sure that there were no buried bodies—totally silly because the basement had a cement floor. In a loud whisper, he called up to Renee and said, "Are you still there?"

"Don't worry, Jaime, if I see them coming, you'll be the first to know. Have you found anything yet?"

"No—I don't think there's anything down here, Renee." The only place left to check was the desk—he wondered if the drawers would be locked, but they weren't. The left-hand drawer was filled with computer discs, a bottle of aspirin, two bottles of gin, and a glass. The middle drawer had a checkbook, envelopes, and stamps, but the right-hand drawer was a little more sinister—a small pile of _Playboy_ magazines. He stood there for a few moments as he tried to decide whether he should tell Renee about her Dad's creepy magazines.

Five minutes later, after he had snapped the padlock shut and returned the keys to his father's dresser, he told Renee, "It's not that bad."

Renee gave him a searching look as she tried to decipher what "not that bad" meant.

Jaime didn't think it was right to keep his father's secrets from Renee. "He's got a few _Playboys_ in his desk."

"And?"

"That's it—I didn't see anything else."

"Nothing? What's he do down there? Don't tell me that he stares at _Playboys_ all night?"

"I forgot—there's a computer on his desk. Maybe he does all his stock trades down there—whenever the Harringtons are here, he's always bragging about how much money he makes in the stock market."

"I don't believe that for a second, Jaime—he's up to something, and it can't be good."

"I know he's gross, Renee, but I don't think he'd do anything to you."

She shuddered. "All those _Playboys_ —it's just totally repulsive."

"Lots of guys have them, Renee—it doesn't mean much of anything."

Renee laughed derisively. "My creepy father--the King of Porn."

3

As they drifted through their high school years, Jaime and Renee didn't have many friends, but the ones they did have, they often hung out with. Renee had met Jasmine Cruz in the seventh grade, and the two of them remained friends throughout their high school years. After school, they loved to walk to the mall and scope out clothes and guys. And sometimes, when they got bored of that activity or their parents started to crank up on the grumbles, they would even do their "lessons" together. That happened at Jasmine's house because Renee was ashamed of both of her parents—in fact, Jasmine had only met them twice. And after her first meeting with them, Jasmine had told Renee that she never realized how wonderful her own parents were.

Jaime's best friends were Tommy Pearson and Pete Wilson—the Gang of Three as they liked to call themselves. Pete, at eighteen, was a year older than Jaime and Tommy, and he often had access to his older brother's car, especially on the weekends. But on school days, they would usually go to Tommy's house for most of the afternoon where they would fool around with video games for a while. And then, when they were bored with that activity, they'd turn into amateur rock stars as they made their first hesitant foray into becoming a band. Tommy played lead guitar, Pete was the drummer, while Jaime played bass and sang. Tommy's house was over a hundred yards away from any neighbors, so they could really let loose as long as his mother wasn't around, but from all reports, they were a lot more loud than good.

Renee and Jasmine would come by occasionally, but once they arrived, the guys couldn't play their instruments for very long because Renee would put her hands over her ears and start to scream. Pete was hopeful that Renee might join the band as a kind of permanent background scream, but she had quickly nixed the idea. "You guys ought to make a video and go on YouTube," she said. "I bet you'd win the prize for worst band ever."

If Tommy had been the one to ask Renee to join the band, she would have said yes immediately because, for a few weeks, she had a huge crush on him. Renee had even come over without Jasmine a couple of times and would constantly try to engage Tommy in a conversation. Later, Tommy told Jaime that he thought his sister was hitting on him. Jaime had been so absorbed in learning the riffs to his favorite songs that he had never noticed. "I wish I could go out with her, Jaime, but you know how it is with me and Alison—I thought Renee knew about her."

Jaime knew that for his sister's sake, he should be the one to break the bad news to her. He did it as tactfully as he could, saying that he wouldn't be seeing Tommy on Saturday because his friend had a date with his new girlfriend. He started to run Alison down a little bit but stopped when he saw the look on Renee's face—as if a trap door had opened up under her and she was plunging to her doom. For a week afterwards, she had been gloomy and obviously depressed, spent very little time at home, and avoided Jaime. But it wasn't long before she returned to her usual self—it was, however, the last time that she ever attended one of the Gang of Three's rock sessions.

Jaime was a hit with the young ladies but usually found ways to sidestep any heavy involvements. With his blond hair that fell almost to his shoulders (much to his mother's chagrin), his slender but athletic build, his cool demeanor, and his pleasant way of talking that often made people laugh, he was, or should have been, a real catch. But deep down, he was somewhat scared of "going all the way" and was wary. He'd talked to a few guys about it, and what he heard wasn't reassuring. Some of the guys had scored, but there were usually repercussions. The whole thing that had happened to Bobby Davidson, who was two years older than he was, had practically ruined Bobby's life—he'd knocked up his longtime girlfriend, and since neither she nor her parents would have anything to do with an abortion, the two of them were married shotgun style. But within a year they had divorced, and now Bobby was paying some god-awful amount of alimony and child support as he trudged around the floor of the woolen mills.

As a result, Jaime's intentions towards women were often rather platonic, at least until he had met Elaine Barrett. Here, Jaime's common sense flew out the window and was replaced with a kind of never-ending lust that haunted him through both the daytime and nighttime hours. When he had first met Elaine, she had a boyfriend, but gradually, over a couple of months, she switched over to Jaime and began dating him. Elaine came from a Catholic family and would only go so far with him, and it wasn't long before Jaime was wishing that he was old enough to propose to her—if that's what it was going to take, he was ready to do it. But sixteen was a little young for the altar!

The height of his romance occurred about a month after Renee had found out about Tommy's girlfriend. For some reason that he could never understand, Renee had always been relentlessly negative about Elaine. "How you do fall for a pretty face, Jaime Hastings." Jaime attributed his sister's feelings to a kind of revenge since he had been the one who had told her about Tommy's girlfriend. "Are you seeing your little heartthrob, tonight?" she would say, in a scornful tone. Annoyed by her attitude, he walked home with Renee from school one day and talked to her about it.

"Renee, how come you don't like Elaine?"

"She's not your type," said Renee, in a curt voice.

There was something about Renee's disapproval that bothered him. If it came from jealousy, that didn't mean much, but what if she was right? And what if he ended up like Bobby Wilson? Stammering for words, he said, "Renee...do you know something about her that I don't know?"

"I know she's not good for you, Jaime. Isn't that enough?"

"But I like being around her—she's not a bad person. She doesn't do drugs or anything like that."

"No, I don't suppose she does. Don't bother listening to me, Jaime—I can see you have your heart set on her, but I still say that she's not good for you."

"This isn't because...this doesn't have anything to do with Tommy, does it?"

"Tommy? Tommy Pearson? What's he got to do with it?"

"I don't know—I just wondered."

"I'm warning you, Jaime. Watch out for her—don't go too far, or you'll really regret it."

Somehow, without any conscious connection, the conversation with Renee seemed to mark the beginning of the end of his relationship with Elaine. It wasn't that anything really happened—no big arguments or fights—but over the next couple of months, his enthusiasm for Elaine gradually evaporated. Probably, deep down, the breakup was caused by the sexual brick wall that Jamie had run into—he liked making out with Elaine, but he wanted more than she was willing to give. When he told Renee that he had broken up with her, she said, "I'm so sorry, Jaime—I know exactly how you feel, but sometimes...maybe I shouldn't have said those things about her, but it's what I truly felt."

"I know that, Renee."

4

One of the benefits of having a rich father was that everyone in the house had their own personal computer, although Rachel hardly ever used hers because she found it "too confusing, and also, there are things on those machines that are somewhat inappropriate." Because of her concerns, she had told Jack to enable the parental controls on Jamie's and Renee's computers—apparently, it never occurred to her that Jack was the one in need of the parental controls.

On the night that he broke up with Elaine, Jaime went to his room and switched on his computer to see if he had any e-mails from Tommy or Pete—instead of doing their homework, the three of them would often jaw back and forth with each other until almost midnight. And if that well went dry, Jaime had a fantastic selection of video games. There was a message from Pete, but right underneath his name he saw that he had a message from Renee Hastings. She had asked him for his e-mail address a couple of weeks before, but he hadn't thought anything about it, and this was her first e-mail to him. Curious, he opened up her letter.

Dear Jaime,

I know that today must have been hard on you. I wish I could say something that would make you feel better about breaking up with Elaine, but I know from experience that's impossible. Please don't take it too hard—you'll get over it. I know that these words of mine are stupid and trite, and maybe they even make what happen worse by reminding you of it, but I just wanted to tell you that I think you're a really cool guy to have for a brother.

Renee

Jaime reread the letter twice. It was obvious that Renee was equating her experience with Tommy with his experience with Elaine, but it was like comparing night and day. Renee had been let down hard because she had come on to Tommy, and then, when she was least expecting it, she had found out that he had a girlfriend. However, Jaime's romance with Elaine had just kind of fizzled out, and when the two of them ended it, he had felt almost nothing. Even so, he thought it was kind of his sister to write to him.

Hi Renee,

I was like totally shocked when I saw that you had e-mailed me. It was a sweet note, and I appreciate what you said. I'm lucky to have you for a sister.

Jaime

The next day, Renee had nudged him with her elbow and said, "Now, when Mom shuts us down at nine, we don't have to stop talking like two prisoners who are being sent to their cells."

"I guess not," he said with a laugh.

"I like e-mails," said Renee, as if she were an authority on the subject. "Instead of just jibber-jabbering away, you can actually think about what you want to say to somebody. I write Jasmine all the time, and we have some great conversations—it isn't like you can't write a few sentences, wait for a reply, and then write a few sentences back." She paused, and then, in a tentative voice, she said, "You don't mind if I e-mail you, do you?"

"No, of course not. Anytime."

"Anytime," she said in a wistful tone. "Well, Mr. Jaime, I might just take you up on that offer. There's a lot of things that I'd like to talk to you about, but we obviously can't do that with the creep and the freak hovering around.

Two nights later, there was a series of e-mails from Renee.

Dear Jaime,

Have you ever thought about what we're going to do with the rest of our lives? Yes or no? Please reply.

Hi Renee,

Not so much, actually—I tend to avoid thoughts about the future.

Dear Jaime,

So you're going to fly by the seat of your pants and hope that the landing isn't too hard?

Hi Renee,

I guess so—although you make that sound like a bad thing.

Dear Jaime,

Let's get serious—OK? Here we are sitting like stooges in this asylum that is run by two people who should have been sent to a mental institution years ago. Sooner or later, we're going to have to make a break for it and escape into the real world. And then what's going to happen? There's not a single thing I can think of that I really want to do with my life. Mom thinks I should become a teacher. Are you kidding? I feel like I've already spent about ten years too many with my nose buried in books. I can't wait for the day that my "lessons" are over, and the only reason I want to go to college is because, first of all, I'll escape this nuthouse where the Creep is always pawing me over with his eyes, and second of all, it will give me four years to decide what I want to do with the rest of my life. Assuming I don't flunk out, which I probably will. And then what? Is that where the guy thing comes in? You know—meet some guy, fall in love, hope he's got the world all figured out, and then play house for the rest of my life. Maybe have a couple of kids along the way—what an embarrassment when I have to introduce them to Grandpa Creeps and Grandma Freaks. I can't even begin to imagine what those two will be like when they're seventy. Are you following all this, Jaime. Yes or no? Please reply.

Renee

Hi Renee,

Take it easy! You'll do alright at college, and once you're there and don't have to deal with Mom and Dad, things will get better. And listen—some guy will come along that you'll fall in love with. It may be a few years down the road, but it'll happen, and before you know it, you'll be living happily ever after.

Dear Jaime,

It would be nice if you would take me seriously--I don't like it when people talk down to me. If you're going to be like that, I'll just go back to writing e-mails to Jasmine. Happily ever after! Give me a break—you mean I'll end up like the creep and the freak? Yes or no? Please reply.

Jaime sighed. Here he was, trying to respond to some unsolicited e-mails, and he had just been scolded like he was a five-year-old. He decided to tread lightly, and revised his next e-mail a couple of times before he sent it—while he was doing that, he had received a short letter from Renee: WHAT HAVE YOU GOT TO SAY?

Hi Renee,

Sorry it took me so long. You're right about the future—it is kind of scary. I guess that's why I don't look that far ahead. But sometimes, just like you, I wonder about the kind of person I might end up marrying. Will we be happy? Or will it be like Mom and Dad? You must remember that wedding photo of them—they didn't look so bad in those days.

Dear Jaime,

Yes, I remember the wedding photo, and that's exactly what I mean. So let's suppose I do meet some guy at college and we start going out and getting physical—if that happens, my mind will be constantly wondering whether I'm being seduced by another Jerry Hudson. I don't think you even know who Jerry is, or if you do, I don't think you have any idea of what went on between us last spring. He's two years older than me, and we used to go out in his parent's car and have these long make-out sessions in the back seat. It was like everything but--the whole eight yards. I was madly in love with him, couldn't stop thinking about him, couldn't stop myself from dreaming about him at night. And meanwhile, he was fawning over me all the time and telling me how much he loved me and how much happier we would be if we went the extra yard. So what I did, big girl that I am, was I went on the internet and figured out how to protect myself because—you're my brother, Jaime, so that's why I'm telling you about this. OK?

What I discovered is that I didn't have to take the pill to avoid becoming pregnant--I could just do the big bad thing right after my period and everything would be fine. I mean, can you imagine me going to Mom and telling her that I wanted to take the pill? At fifteen! She'd have probably thrown one of her precious pots at my head. You must know all about how to avoid making someone pregnant, but if you don't, you should. Because here's the way it is, Jamie--there's going all the way, and then there's _really_ going all the way. That's called having a baby. So all I was trying to do was stall Jerry off until after I had my period when, all of a sudden, I found out that he was going around with his friends and describing to them what we were doing in the back seat of his parent's car. Real mature! He was actually bragging about it—Jasmine told me, and she also told me that she had just found out that he had knocked up some other woman the year before. Jasmine's amazing—she knows all these things that nobody else knows. According to her, the woman he knocked up was somebody about a year older than me, and Jerry now thought that what he had done was very funny. Supposedly, he had said, "I got the good part, and her Dad paid for the bad part." At first, I thought Jasmine might be exaggerating, but then I talked to the woman he had made pregnant—I thought I'd have to be sly, and I was really nervous, but once we started talking about Jerry, she started telling me about all these horrible things that he had done to her. Even though Jasmine had warned me, I was totally shocked. It was horrible—the worst day of my not-so-hot life. _CRUSHED._ For two weeks, I could hardly move—remember when everyone thought I had the flu? There was nothing wrong with me—I was just crying my brains out under the sheets. It was kind of like someone had just announced that the world was going to end in two minutes. I'm glad I never told you about it because I had this feeling of total shame all the time—like I was some sort of filthy creature that was only fit to be despised.

I want to tell you something else, but I've talked long enough—it's your turn to say something. And listen—since we're writing letters to each other, do you think you could drop the Hi Renee stuff and follow the standard form of Dear Renee? Or am I not dear to you? Yes or no? Please reply.

Renee

5

Dear Renee,

I'm sorry that all happened to you. As long as we're talking about things like this, I probably should tell you something about my relationship with Elaine. You're being honest with me, so I want to be honest with you, but you may be upset by some of the things I say. So please promise that you won't hold anything I say against me. OK? Yes or no? Please reply.

Dear Jaime,

Of course I won't hold it against you. Tell me the truth, Jaime—that's all I ask of you. You're my brother, and I'm your sister, so we should be able to at least do that. Because if we can't, we're just totally alone in this crazy world that's populated with millions upon millions of creeps and freaks.

Dear Renee,

OK—but sometimes, when I look back on what happened with Elaine, I'm not all that proud of myself. I'm going to tell you what was painful for me in that relationship, but try not to hold it against me. You promised!

The painful thing was not when I broke up with her—I was actually almost happy when that happened. No—the worst thing was all the sexual frustration I felt during the time I was with her because she wouldn't, no matter what I said or did, go all the way. So, at least in some ways, I guess I'm just another Jerry Hudson. Except that I wasn't bragging about what I had done with Elaine, and I hadn't even come close to going all the way with anybody else.

Mostly, I think guys are a little bit different than women, and you have to take that into account, Renee. It's like—this is just what I've observed in others—they have a much stronger desire for sex. Women almost always need a commitment—sometimes, it's just something fragile, like a promise, but it can, as it did with Elaine, go all the way up to marriage. But men couldn't care less about that stuff—a woman doesn't have to promise them anything.

I suppose this makes sense because it isn't the man who gets pregnant, but even if a man could become pregnant, I don't think that would hold him back if he really desired a woman. It's like unbearable, or it was for me, to really want a woman and not be able to have her. _TORTURE._ But I think, for a woman, it's more like emotional pain than physical torture. Either way, it's no fun, and it's left me completely confused because if I fall in love with another woman what's going to happen? Will she push me away sexually until we get married? Or will she give in, get pregnant, and then we'll have to get married?

Marriage seems like such a dead-end street, and I'm not just saying that because of Mom and Dad. Because what if I get married and after a year, I don't like the person? There I am—stuck with a person I don't like and maybe a child I didn't really want. I don't like saying this to you, but when I start to get close to a woman, all I can think of is sex. I guess that's a little bit of an exaggeration but not much. Do you still have any respect for me? Yes or no? Please reply.

Jaime

Dear Jaime,

You're my brother, Jaime, and I'll always respect you unless you start lying to me. And anyways, we're talking about the same thing, which is this: How is it possible to trust a stranger? That's what happens nowadays—everyone ends up going to bed (yesterday, Jasmine called it la-la land) with someone who's practically a stranger. They may have known each other for a few months, but that's about it. But who knows what they're really like? For all I know, maybe the next guy I fall in love with will be another version of the Creep. He won't seem like it at first, not unless I've gone totally insane and lost my mind, but he could turn out that way. We were reading this book in class the other day and it described a triple wedding that happened in the late eighteen hundreds where three brothers from one family married three sisters from another family. And the two families had known each other for decades. That's a little different than meeting a guy in my English class!

And these days, when I think of guys, it's almost like I begin to shudder. It's not only what they might have in their closet or will have in their closets, but for all I know, they could end up leaving me with the kids while they go out and chase some fantasy they saw in a _Playboy_ magazine. Because, dear brother, it's just like you said: A man will promise you anything for what he wants, but the promises aren't promises at all—they're just tricks so that he can get you to go to la-la land with him.

This has been a great conversation, Jaime—the best one I've ever had with you. But it's time for me to shut off the lights and call it a day. Before we part, please tell me that you also enjoyed this. Yes or no? Please reply.

Dear Renee,

Yes, Renee, I feel like—I don't know what I feel like, but I know I enjoyed talking to you. Sweet dreams!

Dear Jaime,

And sweet dreams to you, dear brother.

## CHAPTER THREE: TIS THE SEASON TO BE MERRY

1

It had long been a family custom for the Hastings and the Harringtons to have Christmas dinner together. Each year, they alternated where the dinner would take place, and this year it was the Hasting's turn—Rachel was, as one might expect, quite nervous and had begun preparations a full week before. The large oak table they would all eat at was scrubbed and polished until it had become the next best thing to a mirror; the menu had been revised three times; and a methodical list had been compiled as to when—exactly when—each item of the menu should be placed into the oven or set on the stove. Luckily, the stove had a clock built into it, so there wouldn't be any problem in avoiding times that had a seven or a nine in them.

Melissa, much to Jack's delight, had been over twice during Christmas week to help Rachel with the preparation of her puddings and stews, and although no one knew the real reason, everyone observed that Jack was spending very little time in the basement. He even made one brief attempt to help the women in the kitchen but was shooed out almost immediately. Even so, his time was hardly wasted since Rachel and Melissa would sometimes come into the living room to talk with him.

"It's so good of you to spend time with us," said Rachel to Jack, on the occasion of Melissa's second visit. "I know how busy you are with your new patent on crowns."

Trying to impress Melissa, Jack said, "It's a tremendous amount of work, but if I can just get through a couple of more hurdles, I might be able to hit the jackpot." He was looking directly at Melissa when he said this, and he wondered whether she had understood the double entendre. Probably not.

"So," said Melissa, "is it—you don't actually work on patents, do you? Isn't it an invention?"

"Quite so," said Jack, with one of his ugly chortles that those with less descriptive abilities might call a laugh. "No matter how many times I've told Rachel that it's an invention, she—"

"You specifically told me that you were working on a patent," said Rachel.

"Nobody works on a patent, Rachel." Turning to Melissa, he said, "The problem I'm running into is that the tolerances are so low—milli-microns or whatever they're called. Anyways, how are things going? It seems like a year since I last talked to you." At least Melissa would be able to catch on to this inside joke since it was only two weeks since they had met in the mall.

"Same-old, same-old—I swear that the older I get, the more boring life becomes."

This was a sentiment that Jack could fully endorse. "I understand what you mean," said Jack. "Every day, I see the same people over and over again until—"

"That's not true," said Rachel. "I'm sure you don't see the same patients every day."

Jack gave Melissa a look that he hoped would be interpreted as a you-see-what-I-have-to-put-up-with look. "I wouldn't," he said, in a mocking tone, "term looking into the mouth of a person as seeing them. Not that I mind looking into every mouth I see, but by the end of the day, it can become tedious." Another double entendre.

Suddenly, in the midst of all this verbal backfire from his pathetic wife, Jack had a brainstorm that he couldn't resist. Looking at Melissa, he said, "I have some pictures of the type of thing that I'm working on. Do you mind if I show them to you?"

Melissa had no interest in seeing pictures of crowns, but it wasn't the kind of question that one said no to, so Jack left the room and disappeared into the basement. He returned with something that looked like a photograph album, but rather than handing it to Melissa, he sat down next to her on the couch. Right next to her. Spreading the album out on both of their laps, it would have been difficult for anyone to see that his thigh was touching hers.

Jack knew that he was taking a little bit of a risk, but he wasn't worried about it—what could Melissa do? Jump up and say, "How dare you?" Not likely, because he was just being the friendly brother-in-law, nothing more to it than that. Besides, he had given her fifteen hundred dollars, so he deserved a little action. Another important factor was that he wanted Melissa to know he was still interested in her because, up to this point, she hadn't shown much interest in him. Probably all she needed was a little encouragement!

Melissa was at first startled, then shocked. She moved back from Jack a couple of inches, but as he showed her the pictures of various types of crowns, he kept pursuing her across the couch. She had been sitting fairly close to one edge, so there wasn't much space left for a retreat, and when she reached the edge, Jack continued to take advantage of the situation. However, when he cleverly put his hand under her side of the album and began slyly stroking her leg, Melissa jumped up and said, "I'm sorry, Rachel, but I really have to be going. I just remembered that Ashley is having a party for some of her friends."

"But Melissa," said Rachel, "we haven't finished yet."

"I'm sorry, Rachel—I just totally forgot about the party. I'll see you on Christmas day."

After she left, Rachel was annoyed. "That was a little abrupt, don't you think?"

Jack was still sitting on the couch but didn't say anything. Incredibly, he was wondering whether he had gone too far.

2

On Christmas day, Melissa, Dave, and their three kids arrived around five. Everyone was too preoccupied to notice that Melissa avoided Jack like he had a very bad case of the Black Plague. Before dinner, they all gathered in the large living room, and Melissa sat in a small stuffed chair that couldn't possibly have permitted the kind of indiscretion that she had endured the last time she was here—not unless the baboon sat in her lap.

Jack didn't know what to make of Melissa's attitude. He tried to make eye contact with her, which shouldn't have been hard because he was sitting directly opposite her, but her eyes seemed to go everywhere but in his direction. Even when he talked, which was fairly frequently, she resolutely avoided looking at him but instead focused on Dave and Rachel.

Renee and Jaime, along with the Harrington kids, had all disappeared into the den and were undoubtedly sharing war stories about their high school adventures. Meanwhile, the adults, after chit-chatting about all their Christmas presents, began to embark on a very adult conversation. "Isn't it just horrible what happened at Newtown?" said Rachel. "I know not everyone agrees with me, but I think a mass shooting of five-year-olds is not a particularly good sign."

Forgetting about Melissa and what her sensitivities might be, Jack was the first to reply to his wife's question. "Rachel, I wish you wouldn't talk that way, especially in front of other people. It's bad enough as it is, but now all the anti-gun nuts are starting to come out of the woodwork, and we'll have to listen to them for months—it'll be one idiotic sob story after another."

Ignoring the fact that she had resolved not to talk to Jack, Melissa said, "But don't you think guns had something to do with what happened?" Strangely, she was staring at Rachel, as if she had been the one talking about the anti-gun nuts.

"Of course guns had something to do with it," said Rachel.

"Rachel," said Jack, in a condescending tone, "if the person who shot all those people at Newtown hadn't had a gun, he would have found some other way."

Turning slightly towards Jack, Melissa said, "Are you serious? Have you seen pictures of that scrawny, sick-looking twerp—the one who shot the kids?" For the first time, she looked directly at him and said, "He was just such a pathetic little creep—take away his gun and he would have had trouble killing his own shadow."

Jack was in no mood to back down in front of another Obama lover, even if it was Melissa. "Ever hear of explosives? But beyond that, Melissa, I'm sure you realize that guns are protected by the Second Amendment."

"First of all," said Melissa, "that amendment is about the right of states to form militias, so it's nothing but a states' right amendment—yes, the people can bear arms but only if they're part of a well-regulated militia. What militia did the twerp belong to?"

"I think you better reread the amendment, Melissa, because the Constitution gives us the right to own guns—it's all been written down, and when you're in a calmer mood, you can read it. It's something that's really not open to debate."

"As a matter of fact," said Melissa, "the Constitution doesn't say anything about guns—it says arms. Arms can be anything—why should it be limited to guns? Would it be OK with you if we started allowing citizens to arm themselves with nuclear weapons?"

"That's just totally ridiculous, Melissa. The second amendment says 'keep and bear arms,' so it's obvious what was meant."

"But Jack," said Melissa, in a cutting tone, "if only governments are allowed to have nuclear weapons then what resource do people have if those governments become tyrannical? Isn't that what the argument for guns is all about?"

As stupid as Melissa's arguments were, Jack was annoyed to be debating the issue with a woman who seemed comparatively well-versed on the subject. He had always assumed that Melissa was just like most of the women he met--another brain-dead airhead who liked to shop and was looking for some action in her life. Turning to Melissa's husband, Jack said, "What do you think, Dave?"

Dave was annoyed with the whole discussion. "I don't think my opinion makes any difference because everything will stay the same."

"He should be in the Obama cabinet," said Melissa. "Twenty children gunned down and all we can do is wring our hands, create a commission, and kowtow to a bunch of bullies with guns."

"I think," said Rachel, in a firm and authoritative voice, "we better change the subject—it's Christmas, and this is becoming a little unpleasant. To tell you the truth, I'm sorry I brought it up."

3

Before they all sat down at the dinner table, photos were in order, and both Dave and Jack took all sorts of shots of the kids, who were, of course, bored senseless by the whole thing. The last photo taken was of the four adults—naturally, Jack attempted to stand next to Melissa, but she was able to scurry away from him and the best that Jack was able to do was put his arms around Dave and Rachel. Not quite the same thing!

After fulfilling the annual photo ritual, they all walked into the dining room, where Rachel showed each and every person where they were to sit. Being a control freak, she had thought about this issue carefully. Jack and Dave would, of course, be at each end of the table. Sitting to the left and right of Jack would be herself and Renee; next to Renee would be Tricia—she was growing out of her anorexia, and Rachel thought it would be healthy for her to be able to talk to Renee. Next to Tricia was Andy, who Rachel privately referred to as the drug addict, and next to him was Melissa who was thus sitting next to her husband. On the other side of the table, besides herself, were Ashley and Jaime, with Ashley sitting next to Dave and Jaime sitting next to his mother. The whole set-up was a little disagreeable and awkward for Rachel because on one side of the table, there were three people, while on the other side, there were four. It just didn't look right! This unpleasant visual effect was made even worse because she had been forced to place Jaime right next to herself and Ashley right next to Dave—no way was she letting Ashley sit close enough to Jaime so that they could hold a conversation. She'd heard far too many things from Melissa about Ashley and knew that she was damaged goods—totally unsuitable for Jaime, even if it only involved a casual conversation at Christmas dinner. Ashley might be beautiful, intelligent, and charming, as if that counted for anything, but Rachel, ever the worrier, was afraid that even though the two of them were first cousins, Jaime might be tempted by the lusts that were forever rampant in adolescent boys. Not only that, Jaime and Ashley weren't really first cousins, at least not by blood, so Rachel had always been on her guard when Ashley was around—the temptress lurks! Imagine—Ashley was just sixteen years old and she was already on the pill. Totally revolting, not to mention sinful. The rest of the world could go to the dogs, just like Jack seemed to be doing with his gin and tonics, but that didn't mean Jaime and Renee had to follow suit.

Immediately, there was a problem with the seating arrangement, and it came from a most unexpected source. Just as they reached their designated spots, Renee said, "I don't want to sit here."

"Renee," said her mother, "please don't cause trouble—I've spent a lot of time on the seating arrangements, and it's too late to change them now."

"What difference does it make? I can sit between Jaime and Ashley."

And leave a gaping hole next to Jack? Although Rachel knew that Jack was not the most pleasant person to sit next to, he still deserved respect since he was the head of the household. "No, Renee, you'll sit next to your father."

"I don't want to sit next to him—I want to sit next to Jaime."

"Renee," said her mother, in a peremptory tone, "I'm not going to stand here and argue about this—sit down in the chair next to your father and behave yourself."

As if on cue, everyone else took their seats, and in the wake of this rather strange spat, a forced gaiety swept through the room. The usual ho-ho-ho Christmas banter, which can wear down even the most patient and forgiving soul. Unfortunately, the laughter was interrupted by Rachel's harsh voice. "Sit down in your chair, Renee—this is the last time I'm going to tell you."

Suddenly, it hit Melissa--had Jack the Groper been bothering Renee? Maybe that was why she didn't want to sit next to her father. "Rachel," she said, "it's OK. There's an empty place next to Jaime—what difference does it make?"

Even before Melissa intervened, Renee had begun picking up her silverware and was heading for the empty spot, but Rachel met her halfway, grabbed her arm, and began dragging her back to her assigned seat. "Let me go," said Renee in a loud voice, "I'm old enough to sit where I want to, and I want to sit next to Jaime."

"Shut up, Renee," said Jack, in a nasty tone. "You'll sit where your mother wants you to sit." He left his chair and grabbed Renee by the other arm, but it proved to be an unexpectedly difficult task for them to control Renee, who was thrashing around in an almost violent way.

"Don't touch me," she yelled at her father as she attempted to kick him.

Very appropriately, there was Christmas music playing in the background, but apparently no one was buying into the overall message of peace on earth and good will to men. Jaime, who had remained passive until he saw his father grab Renee's arm, approached his father and said, "Let Renee go--you've no right to treat her this way. If Renee wants to sit next to me, then she should be able to."

Rachel let go of Renee's arm and literally screamed, "Both of you—go to your rooms. I'm sick of you two—you're nothing but spoiled children."

"You heard your mother," said Jack to Renee and Jaime. "Go to your rooms—maybe if you spend the rest of the day there, you won't be such insufferable jerks tomorrow."

Renee ran out of the room and went over to the stairs that led up her bedroom. But instead of going up the stairs, she sat on the bottom stair, put her hands over her face, and began to sob. Melissa was the first to reach her, and she sat down next to Renee and put her arm around her shoulder. Renee took her hands away from her tear-stained face and said, "All I wanted to do was sit next to my brother—you'd think I was a criminal or something. Since when is it a crime to want to sit next to your brother?"

Jaime had walked towards the stairs, but he turned around and went back to the dining room when he saw that with Melissa sitting next to Renee, there was no room to pass. By this time, he had come to the conclusion that his parents couldn't be serious about banishing him and Renee from the dinner table. His mother was so obsessed with keeping up appearances that it seemed impossible she would go that far, but he had only just reentered the dining room when he saw her looking at him and pointing towards the stairs. This time, when he reached the stairs, Melissa moved to the side so Jaime could get by. As he did, she looked up at him and said, "Let me talk to Renee—OK?"

4

When Jaime reached the top of the stairs, he heard Renee say, in a voice that would have been loud enough for his mother and father to hear, "They're not my parents anymore—I disown them." He then heard Renee start up the stairs, but he ducked into his room because he knew his parents would go ballistic if they heard him talking to Renee.

Jaime stood just inside his partially opened door so that he could listen to what was going on downstairs. "No, Rachel," he heard Melissa say, "I need to talk to Renee."

"Why would you want to do that?" said Rachel. "Being sent to her room is exactly what she deserves."

"I'll only be a minute--you can all start dinner without me."

"I hope you're not taking her side on this, Melissa—children do need to learn how to behave and that means accepting discipline."

"Of course I'm not taking her side, Rachel—you and Jack obviously have the right to discipline your kids. There's just something that I want to say to her—hopefully, we'll never have to go through this kind of thing again."

"OK, Melissa, but please don't say anything to her that would undermine my authority—now that Renee has become a teenager, she's become a different person. I wish I could say that there's been an improvement in her personality, but I'm afraid that the reverse is true."

As Melissa came up the stairs, Jaime wondered why his aunt was so determined to speak to Renee. From the tone of her voice when she had been talking to his mother, it sounded as if she was on Renee's side, but after thinking about it, Jaime thought that Melissa was probably just annoyed by Rachel's obsession with who sat where.

Renee, still sobbing, was sitting on her bed with her hands over her face. When she heard footsteps, she took her hands away from her face and gasped. "Aunt Melissa," she said, "I didn't think it was you."

Rather than sit down next to her, Melissa stood in front of Renee and took her two hands into her own. "Renee," she said, "there's something that I need to talk to you about."

Renee's shoulders were shaking as she continued to sob—her hands seemed almost lifeless to Melissa. "I'm so sorry," she heard Renee say, "I know I ruined the dinner for everyone."

Melissa let go of Renee's hands, sat down next to her, and pulled Renee closer to herself so that she could cry on her shoulder. Stroking Renee's hair, Melissa said, "It's OK, Renee, that's not why I'm here."

"I should have just sat in the chair that my mother wanted me to sit in."

"Why didn't you?" said Melissa, in a gentle tone of voice.

Renee took her head off Melissa's shoulder and stared down at the carpet. "All I wanted to do was sit next to Jaime—he's my brother. It wasn't really that bad of a thing that I wanted to do."

"Renee...do you like your father?"

"My father? No--to tell you the truth, I don't like him."

"Is that why you wanted to change where you were sitting—so that you wouldn't be next to him?"

Renee, as an occasional tear dropped into her lap, seemed to consider this for a few seconds. "I don't think so—it was more that I wanted to sit next to Jaime."

"I'm sorry, Renee, but I have to ask you this question and please forgive me if..." Melissa waited until Renee looked at her.

"What is it, Aunt Melissa?"

"Renee, has your father ever done anything to you that wasn't appropriate?"

"Appropriate?"

"Has he, for instance, ever touched you in a place where he shouldn't?"

Melissa could see that Renee now understood her questions, but it was some seconds before Renee said, "No, not yet."

Startled by Renee's answer, Melissa was only able to say, "Not yet?"

"Sometimes, I think that he wants to."

"You do?"

"Yes, I do."

"Has he said anything that—"

"No, it's the way that he looks at me—for a long time now, I make it a point to never be alone with him."

"That's probably a good idea."

"I don't care whether it's a good idea or not because when I'm alone with him, I always get this weird feeling—like something evil is in the room."

"And...this feeling has something to do with...what do you feel that makes you so uncomfortable?"

"I feel like he's trying to look through my clothes—it's very creepy. You only see my father at times like this, so you probably don't believe me, and...I know it isn't right for me to be saying these things to you."

"Look at me, Renee—please, look at me." She waited until Renee took her eyes off the carpet. She was, thought, Melissa, such a beautiful young woman—it was so sad that she was caught in a situation like this. Melissa took Renee's hands into hers again and looking into her eyes, she said, "Renee, this is a very difficult situation. You're being totally honest with me—right? Your father has never actually done anything to you?"

Renee shook her head negatively but then blurted out, "But I'm afraid that he might, and I know that he'd like to."

What to do? Finally, Melissa said, "Renee, I need to get back to the rest of them downstairs, but I want you to understand something very clearly. Are you listening to me?"

"Yes, I know you're just trying to help me."

"For sure—OK, I want you to promise me something: If your father ever does do anything to you, you are to call me immediately. Or you can simply leave this house and come to mine. Don't worry about what time of the day or night it is because what you have to do is leave here immediately. Or you can call me—whatever you think is best."

"Thanks but..."

"But what, Renee?"

In an anguished voice, Renee said, "It might be too late by then, Aunt Melissa."

Indeed it might. The problem was that Melissa didn't see what she could do since Jack, from everything that Renee had told her, had never come close to crossing over any legal line. Prevaricating, she said, "Usually, Renee, there are warning signs—it doesn't happen all of a sudden. He might sit down next to you—say on the couch in the living room—and put his leg against yours. Has he ever done that—especially in the last couple of years?"

"Once—that's why, when he's in the room, I never sit there anymore."

"Has he ever tried to lure you into a situation where the two of you would be alone?"

"I don't know," said Renee in a despondent way. "There was one time that he wanted to take me to the mall, but Jaime—I've told Jamie all about this, so he went with us that day, but I made him sit in the front seat with my father."

"Alright, Renee, I have to go, but I want you to look out for yourself. Your father has real problems, but until he actually does something, it's difficult for me to know what to suggest. I just want you to remember that you can call me any time of the day or night—don't worry about what your mother might say because I will protect you, and if something is going on over here that puts you in danger, I will be here in five minutes." For the first time, Melissa spoke in a stern voice. "Don't forget that, Renee—I won't be able to help you unless you speak up."

"I am speaking up!"

"Yes—yes you are, and that's a good thing. But we need a little more to go on before we can do anything." Sighing, Melissa stood up, leaned over to kiss Renee on the forehead, and said, "Renee, I love you."

As she left the room, she could hear that Renee was beginning to sob again.

5

Downstairs, everyone was yakking as if nothing had happened. Melissa took her seat at the table and was totally lost in thought when she heard Rachel say to her, "How is Renee doing?"

Melissa was convinced that Rachel would never admit to the fact that Jack might be on the verge of molesting their daughter, so there was no sense in alluding, either now or later, to what she and Renee had discussed. There was also the danger that if Rachel were to tell Jack about Renee's fear of being molested, he would then punish his daughter. "Renee's doing alright—she's just upset that the Christmas dinner was ruined."

"I should hope so," said Jack.

Andy laughed and said, "It wasn't ruined for me—the thing I can't understand is why anyone cares about who sits where. Big deal!"

Ashley, a winsome blond with an engaging, seductive smile, said, "If someone had asked me, I would have gladly sat next to Jaime—he's just so cute."

Rachel blanched—it was just as she had suspected. There was probably nothing that annoyed Rachel more than a loose woman. "Ashley," she said in a sharp voice, "Jaime is your first cousin, so it's totally inappropriate to talk that way."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with being attracted to a first cousin—last week, I went on the internet and found out that it's OK for first cousins to date each other, or if it isn't, no one would ever do anything about it."

Suddenly, except for the Christmas carols playing in the background, the room fell totally silent. Finally, Rachel said, "That is a really shocking and outrageous thing to say, Ashley."

Andy was busy chomping down his Christmas turkey, and with his mouth half full, he said, "Does that mean I could date Renee?"

"Andy," said Melissa, "that's enough."

"Are you saying that I can't ask Renee out on a date?"

"Andy," said Dave, "the answer to your question is no."

"Dad," said Ashley, "calm down. Why isn't it right? I'm serious—what would be wrong with me and Jamie going out on a date?"

Since Dave and Melissa knew that Renee and Jaime had been adopted, the question was not an easy one to answer truthfully. There was also the problem that it was an incredibly awkward thing to be discussing at a Christmas dinner. Now, in the background, Melissa could hear "Away in a Manger."

"Listen," said Melissa, "we're guests here, and it's beyond disrespectful to be talking about Renee and Jaime that way."

"I'm not saying I would ask Renee out on a date," said Andy. "All I wanted to know was whether I could."

"The answer is no, Andy," said Melissa. "Now let's talk about something else."

Tricia, who had been picking at her food aimlessly, said, "That's the trouble in our family—there's never a good time to talk about something serious, and dating is a very serious thing for teenagers." Now that Tricia was on the verge of turning twenty, she had gained some perspective.

"And we have talked about it," said Dave.

"You still haven't said what's wrong with it," said Ashley.

"Because," said Dave, with exasperation, "it's exactly the same thing as a brother and sister dating."

"Well, you don't have to worry about that," said Andy. "I wouldn't date Ashley if she were the last woman in the world. But it still seems to me that cousins are different than sisters."

"It's exactly the same," said Melissa. Looking at Rachel, she said, "I apologize for this conversation, Rachel—it seems like all the kids have gone crazy today."

"They're nothing but big fat brats," said Jack. "You spend your whole life spending thousands upon thousands of dollars to feed them, and then they reward you by asking questions about whether it would be alright for them to have an incestuous relationship. It's enough to make you vomit."

"Back when I had anorexia, I used to do that all the time," said Tricia.

## CHAPTER FOUR: "THERE ARE TIMES WHEN I FEEL LIKE HOLDING YOUR HAND."

1

Dear Jaime,

About a week ago, I was looking through the Christmas photos—the ones that were taken after the Harringtons came over. You'd think that I'd want to forget about that day, but now that we're about a month away from spring, I wasn't even thinking about my fight with Mom—all I wanted to do was see what I looked like, vain woman that I am. Dad (I'll be nice and not call him the Creep) had them printed up, so I had them spread out in front of me.

There were a lot of shots of the Harringtons—especially Ashley, who from the looks of things is being groomed for the next Miss America contest. Watch out for her, Jaime. I heard from Mom that she thinks you're cute and would like to date you. I know you would never go out with her, but in case you're tempted, she's nothing but trouble. Jasmine knows somebody who's a friend of someone who knows Ashley, and from what I hear, she's been doing a lot of things that I wouldn't even dream of doing.

Meanwhile, Mom was totally freaked out because, at the Christmas dinner, Andy kept saying that he wanted to ask me out on a date. There's a laugh. I can't believe some of the things that Mom worries about. Andy is exactly the kind of guy that I wouldn't want to date—not even if you paid me a thousand dollars. He just thinks he's so cool, but when it comes to cool, there's no one quite like you. I keep hoping that I'll meet someone who at least reminds me a little bit of you, but so far, it hasn't happened.

Anyways, like I say, I was looking at the photos, and I began switching back and forth between one of Mom and Dad and one of you and me. And you know what? Suddenly, from out of nowhere, I saw something that I had never seen before: _They're not our real mother and father._ I know what you're going to say, but please don't say it—at least not yet. Just hear me out—OK?

Jaime, the thing is that neither one of us looks even remotely like Mom or Dad. It's true that I have dark hair like they do, but other than that, I don't see a single similarity. I'm already an inch taller than Dad and five inches taller than Mom. And don't start talking to me about the grandparents—I've seen pictures of all of them, and except for one of the grandfathers, none of them were very tall. And there are a lot of other differences besides our heights—complexion, the shape of our faces. Everything!

And you! Where did that blond hair of yours come from? You know that Dad is Italian and Mom is half-Italian and half French—or something like that. And, of course, you're way taller than either one of them. So where did we come from? Any ideas? Please reply.

Renee

Dear Renee,

Have you talked to Mom or Dad about this? To tell you the truth, I've never thought about it—if we were adopted, then why wouldn't they have told us?

Dear Jaime,

OK—here's what happened when I asked Mom if we had been adopted. First of all, she turned pale and started in on what a bad "child" I was to suggest such a thing. She even went through how hard the labor had been when she had you. Supposedly, it took hours and hours to bring you into the world, but I was much easier and came out in about two. But then, when I ignored all her carrying on and asked to see my birth certificate, she got all weird and said that she didn't know exactly where it was. "You don't know where it is?" I said. "How do you expect me to get around in this world without my birth certificate?" So she said she'd look for it, and much to my surprise, she showed it to me the next day, but it really didn't say anything—just my name, Mom and Dad's names, and the date and place where I was born. At least it wasn't Russia—in fact, it was in Pittsburgh, which seems a little far away to me. Sixty miles to give birth? But Mom told me that because your birth had been so hard, they had sent her to Pittsburgh where the doctors had induced her labor with some drug.

That all sounds good—right? But then I had this suspicion, and I did some research and found out that when a child is adopted, the original birth certificate is locked away somewhere, and a new one is issued that makes it look like your adopted parents are your real ones. Is that lame or what? So if I was actually adopted, then everything is hidden from me, even my real birth certificate—the Pennsylvania law is that the only way an adopted person can ever see the original birth certificate is if both adopted parents give their consent. So that's that—we'll never know. Any ideas? Please reply.

Dear Renee,

Why is this important to you, Renee? I doubt very much that we were adopted, but even if we were, what difference does it make?

Jaime,

I knew I wouldn't get any help from you. Never mind—I'm sorry I even mentioned it.

2

In March, Jamie's father, in a rare act of generosity, bought him a used car that was only three years old, but once April arrived, Jamie almost always walked the three-quarters of a mile to school. Renee would usually walk with him, and they would constantly chatter away—since both of them had no real liking for their classes, this was often the time of day that they enjoyed most.

"Yesterday," said Renee, "Jimmy Harris asked me to go out with him."

"What did you say?"

"I told him I'd think about it."

"And?"

"I'm going to tell him no," said Renee, in a disinterested way. "The thing is, Jaime, that going out means making out. Everyone knows that. You can't very well go out with a guy and avoid that. Not that I mind making out, provided it's with the right person."

"I know," said Jaime. "That's about all Elaine and I ever did."

"Make-out sessions," said Renee, with a laugh. "So here's what I have to consider when a guy asks me out, Jaime: Do I really want to see this guy's hungry lips about two inches from mine? And after I spent some time picturing Jimmy's lips in my mind, I decided that he was too much of a risk. Because once you get into a clinch with some guy like that and he's got some heavy lip lock on you, it can take an awfully long time to disengage. Plus, he looks like the kind of guy who might not take no for an answer."

"I kind of had the same thing happen to me last week—it was with Doreen Kiley."

"She asked you out?"

"No—I was thinking of asking her out."

"Oh—I get it—and you were going to take her for a ride in your new car?"

"Something like that," said Jaime, with a smile.

"I'm sure you were more interested in the parking part than the riding part."

"Of course I was," said Jamie. "Like you said, it isn't a real date unless there's something sexual going on."

"I know all about it," said Renee wistfully. "Even though I despise Jerry Hudson now, I still miss the times I spent with him in the back seat of his parent's car."

"I think it's a biological urge--like drinking water."

With her playful, buoyant laugh, Renee said, "Maybe I could ask my science teacher if making out is a biological urge."

"Sometimes," said Jaime, in a serious tone, "it's very hard to resist."

"So what happened when you asked Doreen out?"

"Actually, I couldn't get up the nerve."

"She would have said yes, Jaime."

"Probably."

"And then, instead of being sent to your room to do your stupid lessons, you and Doreen could be having some fun. Of all the things I've ever done in my life, making out is number one."

He stopped walking and waited until Renee looked at him. "I'm just so afraid to commit myself to someone, Renee. All that kissing—it's like a promise, like you're promising someone the world, and how can I possibly know whether I want to give someone the world?"

"Welcome to the club," said Renee.

3

As long as they weren't gone from home too long, their mother would let them go to the mall after dinner. "Don't abuse the privilege, children—you need to keep up with your lessons." Jaime and Renee would then run out to the car and hot foot it to the mall—it was just such a blast to be able to get away from the house and all the depressing things that went on there. Once they reached the mall, they would usually go their separate ways—Jaime was interested in electronics and games, while Renee liked to look at clothes and things that she could put up on the walls of her room. But every once in a while, they would walk around together, and when they did, they'd invariably hit the ice cream shop and order their favorites—a chocolate cone for Renee and a vanilla one for Jaime.

"You know, Jaime, if we keep this up, people are going to think that we're dating each other."

When Jaime was eating vanilla ice cream, he always drifted off into a pleasant trance. By now, he felt fairly certain that when you entered heaven, the angels would hand you a large vanilla cone. "Not the people who know us."

"No, but there are times when I feel like holding your hand."

That brought Jaime out of his trance. "That wouldn't be a good idea," said Jaime, with a nervous laugh.

"Why not? Lots of people hold hands."

"But...you know why."

"It's so weird," said Renee. "As long as you're making out, you can hold hands, but a brother and sister aren't allowed to—it doesn't make sense."

"That's just the way it is," said Jaime dismissively.

"So," said Renee, with her saucy laugh, "if I tried to hold your hand after we left here, what would you do? Scream? Call the cops? And then, when they came to see what the problem was, what would you tell them? 'My evil sister is trying to hold my hand?'"

"Renee—"

"Besides," said Renee, in a more petulant tone, "we're not even related. You're no more my brother than the man in the moon. That's just some weird story that the creep and the freak invented."

The possible sexual undertones were beginning to bother Jaime. At the same time, he wondered what it would be like if they weren't brother and sister. "Renee, don't talk this way—it isn't right."

"Who says?"

"Look, Renee, even if we were adopted, it doesn't..." Jaime didn't know what to say without implying something sexual, and since Renee was probably just trying to tease him, he stopped in mid-sentence.

"It doesn't what?" Renee had turned serious and was staring directly into his eyes.

What could he say? Looking at her...God, he shouldn't think about her that way. And anyways, when it came to all that, the one he really wanted to be with was Doreen Kiley. She was a hot ticket—in more ways than one.

"Jaime? Are you there? Where has my dear brother gone?"

He decided to be blunt. "Maybe I will ask Doreen out."

"It's so sad, Jaime," she said, in a despondent tone. "When I ask you to hold hands with your sister, the best you can come up with is that you want to make out with someone like Doreen Kiley."

Jaime was about to reply when he saw that Renee had tears in her eyes. He remained silent as Renee dried her eyes with a napkin. "Let's get out of here, Jaime. Don't worry—I won't try to hold your hand or anything stupid like that, especially since you're saving yourself for Doreen."

As they walked out of the mall, Renee became rather dramatic as she maintained at least a ten-foot separation between them. "I'd walk closer to you, Jaime, but since you're my brother, I think it's best if we communicate by shouting. We wouldn't want people to get the wrong idea." Jaime was hardly paying any attention to her because he was thinking about something she had said. What had Renee meant when she said that he was saving himself for Doreen? Had Renee been implying that he should be saving himself for her? Was there any other interpretation? Or was he just getting carried away? When Renee had first mentioned holding hands, he had been surprised to feel a kind of thrill, a sexual thrill. Because, in his world, holding hands was just the public version of making out. Everyone knew that, especially Renee.

4

The next evening, the Hastings family was about halfway through dinner when Renee said, "Dad, were Jaime and I adopted?"

Until Renee's question, the conversation had focused almost exclusively on Rachel's plans for her spring garden. Because of this, everyone else had fallen into a state of terminal boredom as Rachel bombarded everyone with her theories of which vegetables needed the most sun and which could survive in shadier conditions. Jack, who had consumed three gin and tonics before dinner, was particularly annoyed by the drift of the conversation. Wasn't there anybody around this dump who could talk about something interesting? It would have been so entertaining to listen to someone slam Obama and put that turkey in his place. Gardens! He wondered if it was possible to grow juniper berries in Pennsylvania—isn't that what gin came from? While Rachel droned on with her monologue, Jack decided that it might be worthwhile to investigate the possibilities of home brewing--maybe he could set up a still downstairs and make his own gin.

There was also an exciting new development in his life—a woman who had, by now, replaced Melissa as the object of his desire. By Valentine's Day, he had finally come to accept the fact that Melissa was blowing him off. He had a difficult time believing that she would be so stupid, but he had to accept facts. Not only had she been rude to him at the Christmas dinner, but she had also ignored two phone calls that he had made to her cell phone. What was the matter with her? Jack finally came to the conclusion that it had been a matter of his technique. He had gone too fast, and women, for some reason or other, don't like that approach. Sitting next to Melissa on the couch was alright but putting his hand on her leg must have offended her. He should have waited for another time to do that, and apparently, she was now operating under the assumption that he was some kind of gross buffoon who couldn't control himself. Women!

"And," said Rachel, in her harsh and grating voice, "I still haven't figured out where to put the tulips because..."

Jack thought that the best thing for everyone would be if someone would just stuff a large rag down Rachel's throat and not remove it until she promised to keep her mouth shut. Better yet, she could go wash the dishes and leave them all in peace. And then, without all this senseless garden talk rattling around in the background, he could focus on this new woman in his life, Linda Evans.

He had hired Linda about a month ago to replace his old receptionist, who went trotting off to Florida after she had made a fool of herself by marrying some rich jerk. It hadn't taken Jack long to find out that Linda, who was thirty-five, was recently divorced, and shortly after she was hired, the two of them had a long conversation about their lives. It was around 5P.M., the office had shut down for the day, and they were the only ones around, so Jack had seized his opportunity. Linda wasn't the world's greatest looker, but she was certainly good enough to fantasize about, which was a lot more than could be said about Rachel. Linda was slightly overweight, but otherwise, she wasn't bad; however, the best thing, from Jack's point of view, was that she seemed to be receptive to his advances. She looked directly into his eyes, was friendly to him, and didn't make any attempt to lower her skirt, which always seemed to stop about three inches above her knees.

Since Linda had talked about her ex-husband as if he were a drunken lumberjack, Jack, besides telling Linda that he had just filed for divorce from Rachel, didn't hesitate to talk about his problems at home—at least that part of his sale's pitch wasn't wholly false. "Sometimes, Linda, I think my wife should be sent to a mental institution."

"By the time I divorced Bill, I felt the same way. But you should count your blessings, Jack--I bet Rachel has never hit you."

"No, her plan is to drive me crazy. And then there are my two kids—now that they're teenagers, both of them have developed swelled heads and are so obnoxious that I wish I could buy them a one-way ticket on the next boat to China."

"What's going to happen to them if you get divorced?"

"Not if, Linda—it's when, and it won't be long. Unfortunately, considering that the courts are stuffed with Obama appointments, Rachel will undoubtedly receive full custody—actually, that part of it isn't so bad, but what is bad is the amount of child support that I'll have to pay her. Plus, of course, she'll get the house."

"I simply can't believe that this country elected someone like Obama," said Linda. "It was bad enough before he came along, but how much are we supposed to take?"

A kindred spirit! Not someone like those stupid Harringtons who thought they were God's gift to the world even though they were nothing but closet Democrats. "Maybe," said Jack, "we should just call this country Afra-America."

"In another fifty years, we can just drop off the America part and call ourselves Africa—Part Two."

Jack was totally charmed, and before the conversation ended, he asked Linda if she'd like to go out for drinks, but she demurred. "In a way, I'd like to, Jack, but I've totally sworn off men for a while. Maybe in another month or two," she said, in a pleasant way.

It had now been about two weeks since his conversation with Linda, and Jack was wondering if enough time had gone by. She had said a month or two, and from his experience with Melissa, he knew it wasn't good to be pushy, but he was worried that if he waited too long, she might spring for some other guy. Maybe the best thing was to wait one more week, engage her in another after-work conversation, and slyly start talking about a new upscale bar that he had just discovered. Jack made a mental note that he'd have to find an upscale bar before he popped the question. That wouldn't be hard—there were a lot of bars and taverns and whatnots in Adeline. It would be easy for him to drop into a few of them on his way home from work--and guess what? Maybe he'd run into some other lonely woman at one of these places. Linda was OK, but she had stalled him off, and there was no reason why he had to act like he was married to her. And there was certainly no reason why he had to act like he was married to Rachel—maybe, in fact, he should turn his divorce fantasy into a reality.

5

"Dad?" Renee had apparently said something and was expecting an answer from him.

"Renee," said Rachel, "We already talked about that. Your father has been at work all day, so he doesn't need to hear any more stupid questions."

"What question?" It was annoying for Jack to be pulled away from his thoughts, but at least it wasn't likely that Renee had asked him anything about the garden.

"I want to know," said Renee, in a determined voice, "whether Jaime and I were adopted."

"Adopted? Where did you ever get that idea?"

"Neither Jaime nor I look anything like you and Mom."

"So?"

"Renee," said Rachel, "the physical appearance of a child usually doesn't correspond to the physical appearance of a parent."

"You're joking--right? Just take a look at the Harringtons—don't their kids look like Aunt Melissa and Uncle Dave?"

"Maybe so," said Rachel, "but that's the exception and not the norm. Just for your own information, children are not carbon copies of their parents. Science has told us that there are mutations, so that's why everybody looks different."

"So I'm a mutation?" said Renee, in a disgusted tone.

"Renee, if there were no mutations, every child would look exactly like their mother or father."

"Mother, I would appreciate it if you would stop calling me a child. I'm sixteen, you know."

"Big deal," said Jack. "The problem, Renee, is that being sixteen doesn't give you the right to have an attitude. I can remember my father telling me that after the child came the brat, and when I listen to you, I can understand what he meant. You've been going through the brat stage since you became a teenager, so maybe you should be thankful that we have enough respect to call you a child."

"Exactly," said the choir, which in this case happened to be Rachel.

Frustrated, Renee turned towards her brother and said, "What do you think, Jaime? Haven't you ever wondered whether we were adopted?"

Before Jaime could say anything, Rachel intervened. "Stop trying to bring Jaime into it, Renee. This...I don't know what to call it—this obsession of yours is really becoming annoying. You were not adopted, and as your mother, I obviously would know. It's really insulting for you to be asking me this question. How many times are you going to bring this up?"

"Mom, I wasn't asking you—I was asking Dad."

"And you think that he's going to say something different than what I've told you?"

"Perhaps."

"So now you're saying I'm a liar?" said Rachel, in an angry tone of voice.

"Mom, that's not what I said."

Rachel leaned over, grabbed Renee and Jaime's plates and slammed them down on top of her own.

"Mom," said Renee, "I wasn't finished with my dinner."

"Yes, you are," said Rachel as she stormed out of the room with the plates.

"What is it with you?" said Jack to Renee. "Why is this so important to you?"

"Why is it important who my real mother and father are? Duh!"

"Renee, your mother and I are your real mother and father. That's it—there's nothing else to say."

"Prove it."

"OK—somewhere around here, we have your birth certificate, and--"

"That doesn't prove anything," said Renee contemptuously.

Jack laughed. "Why not, my little brat?"

"Because I've found out that once you're adopted, the real birth certificate is thrown away or locked up, and then they issue a phony one to cover up what really happened."

Jack hadn't expected her to know this and could only come out with a lame, "They do?"

"Yes, they do—so the fact that my birth certificate says that you're my father means absolutely nothing."

Trying to distract her, Jack said, "Jaime, you haven't said anything at all. Don't tell me that this is something you think about all day."

Jaime knew that he would be bringing down the ire of Renee, but he told the truth. "No, I don't see what difference it makes. Even if we were adopted, which I don't think we were, you and Mom were the ones who raised us."

"Jamie," said Renee, "that is the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say."

"OK," said Jack, "there's no sense in beating this dead horse any longer. Renee, if you want to go through the rest of your life thinking that you were adopted, then so be it. You're making a fool of yourself, but brats will be brats, and there's not much that I can do to save you from yourself."

"And so," said Renee, in a very deliberate voice, "if I were to ask Aunt Melissa whether Jaime and I were adopted, she would say no?"

With this unexpected thrust, Jack lost his temper. Slamming his palm down on the table and glaring at Renee, he said, "Don't you dare—don't you ever ask her that question. It wouldn't do any good anyways--she wasn't even living in Adeline when you and Jaime were born."

"What difference does that make? said Renee defiantly.

"Because, besides making all of us look very stupid in front of the Harringtons, you'd never believe her when she told you that you weren't adopted. All you'd say is that since she was living in Oregon at the time, she couldn't possibly know who your real parents are."

"I'd still like to ask her," said Renee.

"You better not," said Jack.

"And if I do?"

At long last, Jack saw an opportunity to escape from the ominous financial cloud that was rapidly approaching him from the future. "There goes your college career, kiddo. After all, if I'm not your real father, then why should I pay for it?"

Renee thought about this for a few seconds, and then, after a scornful look at Jaime, she rose from the table and went upstairs to her room.

## CHAPTER FIVE: THE FOREVER DEAL

1

Jaime,

Thanks for backing me up tonight with your "what difference does it make whether we were adopted?" I guess you don't like me anymore—I know you'll deny that, but when you take Dad's side in an argument with me, there's no other way to look at it.

Is this new attitude of yours something to do with the night I asked you to hold hands with me at the mall? Ever since then you've been different to me. I'm so sorry I asked you that question. I take it back—I don't want to hold hands with you anymore. Not only that, I don't want to go to the mall with you anymore.

Don't bother replying.

Jaime's first reaction to Renee's e-mail was somewhere between annoyance and anger, but when Renee totally ignored him the next day, refusing to even walk to school with him, his mood began to change. As he drifted through his classes that day, he eventually came to the conclusion that it was not unreasonable for Renee to wonder about who their real parents were. The idea that they had been adopted still seemed farfetched to him, and he thought the only reason for Renee's interest in their origins came from her intense animosity to the father that she still often called the Creep, the man that she just couldn't accept as her biological parent.

Dear Renee,

I'm sorry about last night. I know it's important to you to find out whether we were adopted, but I don't think we'll ever hear anything different from Mom and Dad than what we heard last night. Maybe you're right and we were adopted, but I don't see how we can discover the truth. You saw how they were. Perhaps, when we get older and have some money, we can hire someone to look into this because if it makes a difference to you, then it makes a difference to me. Please reply.

Jaime,

Whatever—you don't even have a clue as to what I'm talking about. Please don't write me anymore—I'm tired of dealing with this family. Bye.

2

Two days later, Jaime asked Doreen out, and by the end of their second date, they had advanced well beyond the hand holding stage. Doreen liked to call what they were doing "love play," while Renee would, of course, have called it making out. Except that he and Doreen were _really_ making out--it wasn't at all like what he had done with Elaine. And then, a couple of weeks later, it had happened—right in the back seat of his car.

Afterwards, Jaime had been filled with all sorts of conflicting thoughts and emotions. There was a part of him that thought he was now a man. No more of this boy and adolescent stuff. But if that was true and he really had crossed over the boy/man threshold, then wasn't he required to take care of the woman that he had made love to? Doreen had dropped a lot of hints that she was on the pill, and she had even made him wear a condom, so he wasn't afraid that something terrible would appear in nine months, but still—what was he supposed to do now? Should he sit down with Elaine—no, it was Doreen—and start talking about their future? It was so preposterous—he had no money, lived with parents, and had very little wish to do anything with Doreen except produce repeat performances of their sexual intimacies.

What, in actuality, could he propose to her? Marriage? That's what grown-ups did when they became involved in situations like this, but although he might be a man, Jaime felt that he was many years removed from becoming a grown-up. Was he really supposed to get an apartment and find a job? Sex with Doreen was a fantastic experience, but he certainly didn't want to give up his guitar, his video games, and his pleasant little life of floating around without having to do anything, except go to school and pretend to be interested.

The one time he had attempted to discuss all this with Doreen, she had quickly changed the subject by talking about how excited she was about being admitted to Princeton. On further reflection, Jaime realized that Doreen probably hadn't been changing the subject and that when she talked about how they could see each other on the weekends, actually, it was "some weekends," then that was as far as her idea of the future went. Logically, that made sense to Jaime because Doreen was only replacing his guitar and video games with the word Princeton.

Although he should have been happy that Doreen wasn't demanding anything of him and was, at least in modern terms, being very mature about the whole thing, Jaime felt dissatisfied. Or maybe the right word was guilt, but Jamie was able to escape from the clouds of hell when his sense of humor came to the rescue. He had been sitting in his advanced math class when the word orgasm floated through his mind—it seemed like such a funny word, and he couldn't stop repeating it to himself. As his math teacher droned on and on, Jamie began substituting the word orgasm for trigonometry terms and the result was so hilarious that he kept having monster laughing attacks, which were extremely hard to suppress amidst all the serious nonsense that was going on around him. "Once we've found the difference between the orgasm and the tangent, we can create an orgasmic equation that will define the parameters of the orgasm."

As Jamie's mind began to move on to more serious issues, it seemed very unlikely to him that one could be seventeen and engage in orgasms, even if they were consensual, without having to suffer any consequences. And these were, Jaime knew, illicit orgasms because there was never any real intention to marry—the only motivation was lust. Every single time an illicit orgasm happened on TV, in books, or in the movies, something bad happened to the person who initiated the act. _Every single time._ For some reason, illicit orgasms were always punished. Since the beginning of movie history, no husband had ever cheated on his wife and gotten away with it—maybe for a little while, but in the end, the wrath of God, who was usually disguised in some ridiculous fashion, would descend on his vile head. Although Jaime was plenty smart enough to know that these judgments of society were suspect, he felt that since they were so universally prevalent, they must be pointing to something real. Transgress the illicit orgasm commandment and you will receive your comeuppance—it was every bit as certain as death and taxes.

For Jaime, it was somewhat like the time he had been caught shoplifting. Even before he had been stopped at the exit door of the place, he had been plagued by an overwhelming feeling that something bad was about to happen to him. At least orgasms felt way better than shoplifting, but did that mean the punishment for an illicit orgasm was a thousand times worse than the slap on the wrist he had received for shoplifting?

During his Civics class, Jamie had devised another orgasmic joke about his predicament. "Yes, Your Honor, I have committed not one but many illicit orgasms."

And the old bird of a judge would look down on him and say, "Mr. Hastings, did you really think that you could get away with such a serious crime?"

"No, Your Honor, I always knew that somehow, someday, I would be caught."

"And you still went ahead with your illicit orgasm?"

"I know it sounds like an awful thing to say, Your Honor, and it's certainly no excuse for my behavior, but when you're making out with someone like Doreen Kiley, the orgasm doesn't seem so illicit anymore—in fact, it almost seems mandatory."

"Alright, Mr. Hastings, I've heard more than enough—you are, quite simply, a terrible person, and I have no choice but to impose the maximum penalty. You are hereby sentenced to sixty years of penal servitude in suburbia with this Ms. Kiley. And although you're undoubtedly too young to realize it, I regret to inform you that you are doomed to a life of unhappiness and regret. May God have mercy on your soul."

3

Sometime during the first week in April, Jamie and Doreen ran into Jasmine and Renee at the mall. Jamie had been holding hands with his new heartthrob, and when he saw his sister approaching with her girlfriend, he tried to avoid her, but it was too late. As the four of them stood around talking, he wondered what Renee was thinking. It was so silly that he had to worry about her feelings. So what if he was holding Doreen's hand and had shunned hers? Nobody in their right mind walked around the mall holding their sister's hand.

But ever since the night that Renee had argued with their parents about whether they had been adopted, Renee had avoided him, and Jaime was basically fed up with her. If she wanted to be a snob, then there was nothing he could do about it. In a way, he felt jilted—Renee wouldn't walk to school with him or go anywhere with him in his car. Every time he asked, she would say something like "Don't bother—I can get there on my own."

After a couple of minutes of standing around, the three young ladies decided that they wanted some ice cream, so everyone piled into the shop, ordered their cones, and sat in a big corner booth. Jasmine was quite the talker, and the conversation was monopolized by her as she took everyone through a tour of her college options. It seemed like a lot of name-dropping to Jamie who was still waiting to hear whether he had been accepted at the local community college. Meanwhile, underneath the table, Doreen was running her hand up and down Jaime's leg, and the combination of the vanilla cone and Doreen's hand more than offset Jasmine's longwinded rant. Heaven was more than vanilla ice cream! It was also the sensation that arose when your girlfriend was feeling you up. The only thing necessary to make this scene perfect was to replace Jasmine with his favorite rock band.

Jamie was still conscious enough to notice that Renee seemed to be in a very upbeat mood—laughing at all of Jasmine's tepid jokes and constantly whispering into her ear as she eyed Jamie out of the corner of her eye. At one point, just when Jasmine was talking about how fabulous she had done on her college boards, Renee had begun to tickle Jasmine, which caused her to laugh and at least interrupted her monologue. Doreen took that opportunity to drop her own SAT scores into the conversation, and they were so much higher than Jasmine's that everyone was momentarily at a loss for words.

Finally, after a few more awkward sallies from Jasmine, Renee announced that she and Jasmine were going to a movie and had to leave. Jaime and Doreen were still not finished with their cones, but as his sister and her girlfriend left the booth and headed towards the exit, Jaime did a real double-take--Jasmine and Renee were holding hands.

4

After some super-advanced love play with Doreen in the back seat of his car, Jamie dropped her off at her house and went home. He couldn't get his mind off Renee—was she really becoming a lesbian? And if she did, why should it bother him? Nowadays, it had become accepted behavior, so what difference did it make? Fifty years ago, it had been another example of an illicit orgasm, but the gods that be now said it was perfectly alright, so there was nothing to worry about as far as society's approval went. Except...what if their parents ever found out about it? Their mother would have some kind of breakdown, while their father, who had probably received his sexual education exclusively from _Playboy_ , would undoubtedly find a way to be offended and throw one of his gross tantrums. However, despite all that, Renee obviously had the right to love Jasmine, just as he had the right to love Doreen.

When he got home, he found there was an e-mail from Renee—the first one in almost a month.

Dear Jaime,

Did I fool you with my little prank? When I saw you and Doreen approaching, I told Jasmine that it would be a great trick to play on you if we were to act like lesbians. Don't worry, dear brother, Jasmine and I are just friends.

Anyways, I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for the way I've been acting around you lately. I know I've hurt your feelings—it was just because you didn't stick up for me when I had that fight with Mom and Dad, but I'm over that now. It was totally stupid of me—I know whose side you're on, so I hope you'll forgive me.

I really miss going out with you to the mall. Do you think that you and I could go some night? I know you want to spend a lot of time with Doreen, so it doesn't have to be tomorrow night—just sometime. What do you say?

Renee

Dear Renee,

Of course we can go out to the mall together. How about tomorrow night? But we can't go unless you start walking to school with me in the morning. Is it a deal?"

Dear Jaime,

Deal!

5

The next night, after they had walked around the mall for a while, Renee and Jamie ended up in the ice cream shop. Renee was in a merry mood as they sat down in the same booth they had used the night before.

"It's been so long since we've really talked," said Renee. "It feels like a century."

"I know—it's really bothered me."

"I'm sorry about that, Jaime. You and Jasmine are the only real friends I have, and here I was kicking you around like you were another version of Dad."

"So what have you been up to?"

"Not much—Donny Ames asked me out."

"And you said yes?"

"Not exactly," said Renee, with her quirky smile. "What I did was a trial run—I went to the mall with him, but I told him beforehand that I was meeting Jasmine and that we could spend an hour or so together before she arrived. That way, I didn't have to worry about the kissing part. It's lucky I came up with that scheme because after I had been around Donny for about five minutes, I knew I could never let him kiss me."

"I'm surprised that you don't have a steady boyfriend," said Jaime.

"Me too. I guess I'm too picky. But you and Doreen—you look like you're in love, Jaime."

"No, not really."

"Come on! I don't believe it."

"It's strange, Renee—I only seem to love a woman before I've..." Jaime stopped short because of what he had been about to say.

Renee instinctively knew what he was talking about and said, "Oh my God! Have you...be careful, Jaime."

"We are careful."

Renee gave him a long look that seemed to be a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "Jaime" she said, in a soft voice, "I've never...I don't know anyone else I could possibly talk to about this. What was it like? I mean afterwards—did your feelings for her change afterwards?"

"I guess...I don't know. It was more like I felt a responsibility towards her."

"An obligation?"

"Something like that."

"Was it awkward? I know that's an awfully personal question, but it's something I think about all the time. You know—how will it be the first time?"

"I think it all depends on the person that you're with."

"But you must feel—no wonder Doreen and you look like you're in love. I'm telling you, Jaime—when I go all the way with a guy, I'm expecting it to be part of a raging, once-in-a-lifetime romance."

"It could be different for a woman, Renee, but at least for me, the romance was more before than after."

With a wink, Renee said, "Did you seduce her, Jaime?"

"Not really—it was mutual."

"If it were me, Jamie, I would feel that I owned that person and that person owned me. Once we crossed that line...that's why I'm so hesitant to go out with anyone nowadays. I mean, suppose I did fall for someone, and afterwards, they just said, 'Well, that was nice, but I don't really see you as a part of my future.'"

"Funny you should say that, Renee, because that's pretty much what Doreen is telling me."

"She is?"

"What she's saying is that once she starts school next fall, we can see each other but only on some weekends."

"Where's she going to school?" said Renee, in an incredulous voice.

"Princeton—it's in New Jersey."

"That's just such a terrible thing to say to someone."

"It's not so bad, Renee—what else can she say? Doreen's not going to give up Princeton so that she can settle down with me in Adeline."

"But...it's incredible that Doreen, that anyone, would think about sex that way. Secretly, aren't you crushed?"

"Crushed?"

"I would just be totally devastated if some guy pulled that trip on me. Sex is for keeps, Jaime. There's no going back, there's no going to Princeton. It's a forever deal."

"I think—I know I used to feel that way, Renee, but afterwards...after it happens, it doesn't feel that way."

"It would be for me. I may be totally stupid about this, but I'm not letting any guy go all the way with me unless I think it's forever."

"That's probably smart," said Jaime. Inwardly, he was touched by his sister's intense sense of romanticism.

"It's only smart because it's true, Jaime. On planet earth, sex is the forever deal."

6

Later, after Jaime had changed the conversation by getting Renee to talk about what colleges she was thinking of applying to, she asked him, "So what are you going to do when Doreen goes to college in September? Find someone else?"

"Actually, she's leaving for Europe with her parents at the end of June, so...I really haven't thought about it."

"So it's like over once that happens?"

Renee seemed so astounded that it was hard for Jamie not to laugh. "I don't know, Renee—I guess so."

"Aren't you going to visit her at Princeton?"

"I doubt it."

"Why not?'

"I don't get the sense that she really wants me to."

"This is so amazing," said Renee. "And neither one of you is upset?"

"Not that I know of." Renee now had an appalled look on her face—like she had just seen a dead mouse. "What is it, Renee?"

"Jamie, if even my own brother feels this way about love, then what chance do I have?"

"I don't understand what you mean."

"You're really, of all the guys I've ever met, the one person who I thought would feel the same way that I do. But you're just like 'Well, she's going to Princeton, so that's it.' I'm not criticizing you—I'm just shocked."

"There's not much I can do about it, Renee."

"I know that—I know it's not your fault. But please tell me that you would never do this to a woman."

"Do what?"

"The Princeton, I'm-out-of-here trip."

"You're right about that--I think going all the way is a commitment."

"Duh! If I ever hear that you've done a Princeton on some woman, I'll lose all respect for you. I mean it."

He looked at her for some moments before he said, "I guess, in a way, it does bother me that my relationship with Doreen is ending."

"It should—if someone ever pulled that stunt on me, I don't know what I'd do, but it wouldn't be pretty. All she's doing is using you, Jaime. It's true that she's letting you use her body, but she's using your heart and twisting you around her thumb."

Jaime was silent as he considered this interpretation of his relationship with Doreen.

"It's wrong, Jaime, and you should break up with her. You want to know why?"

"Why?"

"Because every second that you're with her is a wasted second. There's someone out there who's your forever person, Jaime. And this person may be someone that you'll never meet because you were fooling around with Doreen. Going all the way is serious business, Jamie—the most serious business in your life, and I wouldn't waste any more of your valuable time with some woman who thinks that Princeton is more valuable than you."

7

Dear Renee,

I thought about it for a week, and yesterday, I took your advice and told Doreen that it didn't make much sense for us to see each other anymore. At first, she was really upset and started to cry. We were sitting in the front seat of my car down near the old mill pond—that's where we almost always went to make out, and she undoubtedly thought...well, you know. Anyways, I told her that when people go to college, high school romances almost never work out and that we'd be better off if we went our separate ways.

"So," she said, still crying, "it's not because of anything I've done or because you've found somebody else?"

To tell you the truth, Renee, I think the reason I broke up with her was that I didn't want to be the one who got dumped. As I was sitting there, I could understand how she felt because it's tough when a person tells you that it's over. But why should I be the one to be told that? I never would have left her, but if Mr. Princeton is more important to her than Mr. Jaime, then there's no use letting myself be strung along with all that "maybe I can see you next weekend" stuff. And then, sure as shooting, she'd call me the day before I was supposed to leave to visit her and tell me that her parents were coming, and I would know that she'd found a guy at Princeton and was just searching for a way to tell me.

Actually, I'm still a little depressed about it. Not much—just a little. But it was so sad in a way. She didn't stop crying until I repeated the part about high school romances. "I know, Jamie—probably you're right, but we sure did have a lot of good times."

Good times! It was a little more than that, Renee. But I think you're right about how going all the way should be like forever—it's just so disappointing when it isn't. Kissing and making out are one thing, but the forever deal is in a totally different league. I've kissed a lot of girls and walked away without a second thought. Even breaking up with Elaine wasn't too bad because we never really went that far. But this one hurts a little more than I expected. I wanted it to be forever with Doreen—I really did. And now? It's nothing--absolutely nothing.

But don't worry about me—in a couple of days, I'll be over it. I'm just telling you all this because I know you'll be interested.

Jaime

Dear Mr. Jaime,

Such a sweet letter. Actually, I do have some idea of how you must feel because of my experience with Jerry Hudson, but like you say, it's a lot easier to walk away before you commit yourself to the forever deal. Any guy that tells me they're blowing me off for Princeton after I've given him my heart, my soul, and my body...I'm promising you—something bad will happen because I just couldn't deal with it.

But don't worry, Jamie--there'll be others, and lots of them. I predict that the problem for you won't be a lack of girlfriends but finding one that isn't just using you because you're such a good looking guy. Hot! (I can tell you that because I'm your sister.) So keep your head up—better days are coming!

Renee

## CHAPTER SIX: THE BIG EVENT

1

Dear Jamie,

I'm going to have to swear you to secrecy on this, but I know you would never tell on me. Yesterday afternoon, I went over to Aunt Melissa's and said that I needed to talk to her. Right away, she looked alarmed because she figured that it had something to do with my creepy father molesting me.

Once we were alone in the kitchen, I said, "Aunt Melissa, I need to discuss something with you, but you have to promise me that you won't tell my parents about it."

"Of course I won't, Renee." Wasn't that clever of me to bring that up right at the beginning? She couldn't have known what I was about to say, but I bet you can guess what I wanted to ask her!

"Aunt Melissa, please tell me the truth—were Jamie and I adopted?"

You should have seen her, Jamie—her mouth dropped open about a foot as she tried to find something to say. "Renee...I don't—why are you asking me this?"

"Because I want to know—who wouldn't want to know?"

"But why are you asking me? That seems like a question you should be asking your mother or father."

"I did ask them."

"And what did they say?"

"They were angry that I would even ask them."

"But they did tell you that you weren't adopted, didn't they?"

"Yes, they did, but I don't believe them."

"Why not?"

"Just look at how different Jamie and I are from them. How could anyone believe that they're our parents?"

"Renee—"  
"I know—you're going to say exactly the same thing that my mother did."

"And what did she say?"

Aunt Melissa was fidgeting all around and acting like someone who had just been put on the hot seat. "My mother started telling me about how kids often look different than their parents."

"Renee, this really isn't something that I feel comfortable talking about, so let's change the subject."

Jamie, I want you to read this conversation I had with Aunt Melissa again...have you done it? OK, now can there be any doubt left in your mind that we were adopted? If you and I hadn't been adopted, do you think Aunt Melissa would have talked the way that she did? Wouldn't she have just laughed and said, "Of course your mother is your real mother. She and I talked on the phone constantly in the months before your birth—I even came out here to visit her when she was seven months pregnant, and let me tell you, that wasn't a pillow under her blouse."

Aunt Melissa's whole attitude is the attitude of one who's been sworn to secrecy. Don't ask me, ask your mother! How much more proof does anyone need?

2

OK, Jamie, here's part two of my letter, and it doesn't have anything to do with adoption. What happened was that Aunt Melissa wasn't there when I arrived, so I had to wait in their TV room with Ashley and Andy. What a nightmare! Ashley was fielding calls from one guy after another, while Andy was constantly hitting on me. It was really gross. I had to move off the couch because he sat down next to me and attempted to put his arm around me. He tried to make it seem like a casual, friendly thing, but now I know what the expression "bull in a china shop" means. So I moved over to a chair, and he went out to the dining room and brought back another chair and placed it right beside me. Plus, he kept staring at my legs—I was wearing that short black skirt of mine, and I'm telling you, he was practically drooling.

Ashley was going on and on with some guy that she was obviously stringing along—I know that for a fact because the guy that she was talking to when I first got there was obviously the one she was making out with. Anyways, all of sudden, Andy leaned over and whispered into my ear, "Would you like to go out with me?" I wanted to stick my fingers down my throat and throw up all over him, but all I said was "NO!"

I said it so loudly that Ashley actually looked at the two of us with a puzzled expression. "We're first cousins, for God's sake," I said to him. As you can see, there are times, like if I'm really desperate, when I don't mind admitting that Mom and Dad are my real parents! Andy looked nervously at Ashley who was scowling at him, and he backed off a little bit, but I could see that he was gearing up for another run at me. Luckily, Aunt Melissa arrived, and I was saved from another ridiculous attempt on my virtue—Andy had been so obnoxious that I was really tempted to tell his mother about him, but I decided to give him a break. Wouldn't it have been a hoot if I told Aunt Melissa that I was being molested by my first cousin instead of my father? I'll bet her mouth would have dropped a yard after that one.

On the walk home from Aunt Melissa's, I began to think it was all kind of funny. Not the adoption part but the Andy part. He wasn't that much worse than some of the guys I have to deal with at school. At least they aren't my first cousins, so they have some excuse, but they could definitely use some tips on how to approach a woman. Lots and lots of tips. So, I wondered, why don't they have courses on things like that in high school? Something practical and relevant for a change--freshman year, there could be a course called Introduction to Making Out; sophomore year, it could be called Advanced Making Out; junior year, it would be Petting and Heavy Petting; and senior year, it would be called THE BIG EVENT. That's the term that Jasmine uses for going all the way, and I like it.

I was just laughing my head off as I walked along the street and imagined these imaginary classes. Naturally, the boys and girls would have to be separated, and the instructors could be guest lecturers—hot-looking college seniors or something. I really don't think my civics and algebra teachers could teach us those things. Maybe they were making out thirty years ago, but it's tough to grant them much credibility now. However, the guest lecturers could really help us—assuming, of course, that they have a lot of experience in the back seats of cars. For instance, there could be some practical advice about how to control guys and make sure that they don't get rough with you. And I'd bet you half my life's savings, which right now is fifteen dollars, that no one would be daydreaming through any of these classes. My God, when it came to the BIG EVENT class, everyone would be there thirty minutes early. I wonder what they would give us for homework—I'll bet you the other half of my life's savings that it would be more enjoyable than what they're giving us now.

Just to keep you up to date and informed about my romantic life, I don't really have one at the present time. I'm sort of scoping out this guy in my Civics class, Bart Hensen. Even though Bart is kind of a scary name to me because it reminds me of a truck driver, he's kind of cool, and over the last couple of weeks, I've caught him looking at me a lot more than once. I know that he's dying to make out with me, but I'm not so sure—I'm afraid he might be the kind of guy who thinks that a kiss is a guaranteed ticket to the big event. But I'll need a lot more information than a few kisses before I can come to any sort of rational decision about whether he can be my partner for life.

That's the thing, Jamie—you must know this: At least half the kids at the high school spend a major portion of their day checking out the opposite sex. It's like a pre-petting zoo where all the animals are circling around one another and everyone is trying to decide whether to take the plunge. And it's easy for me to see that once a guy begins to lock onto you, all they're saying to themselves is, "Does she or doesn't she?" Does she have a boyfriend stashed away somewhere? Does she want to make out with me? Would she, after a few petting sessions, be willing to go to the big event with me?

Whatever happened to the flowers and the Valentine's Day cards? I guess that's for the older folks, and I suppose I'm no saint when it comes to things like that. I don't think you ever caught on to how many guys I went through during sophomore year. And since it was sophomore year, it was only natural that I was following my suggested curriculum—Advanced Making Out. I had so many different guys—like six--that I could tell my reputation at the high school was beginning to suffer, so I put an end to it, at least until I met Jerry Hudson. Girls—I guess I'm a young lady now—have to be careful about being too free and easy because it got to the point where guys were coming up to me like I was the Make-Out Queen.

I hope you're not horrified by the things I've said, Jamie. That's one of the nice things about being a brother and a sister. Who else could I say these things to? We can kind of just talk to each other about our real thoughts and not cover them up with flowers and Valentine's Day cards. Secret thoughts, real thoughts. Not the kind of thoughts that are just put out there for the Mom and Dad to see.

Now that you're over Doreen, who's next on your make-out list? Oops! I don't think Mom would be happy if she knew I was writing things like that to you.

I know it's late, Jamie, but drop me a line before you crash out into Dreamsville..

Renee

3

Dear Renee,

That was such a funny letter—and very true. You wouldn't believe the way I was for the couple of weeks before Doreen and I went to the big event—I was just such a pathetic mess. I'd be sitting there in my stupid advanced math class while Mr. Boyle droned on about angles and tangents, and all I could think about was Doreen. It got really bad after Doreen told me that she was on the pill. We were eating lunch together in the cafeteria when she told me about someone who had been knocked up, and in a soft voice that no one else could possibly have heard, she said, "Smart girls take the pill, Jamie." And then, just to make sure that I understood what she was talking about, she had winked at me.

I talked it over with Pete and Tommy, and they both came to the exact same conclusion I had reached about two seconds after Doreen had winked at me—I was being fast-tracked for the big event. So the next time that Doreen and I headed down to the old mill pond for one of our make-out sessions, I was about ready to explode, but I ended up being really disappointed because, that night, she seemed really cold and distant—or at least as cold and distant as it's possible to be when you're kissing your brains out.

The next day was so bad that I still thought I was in my advanced math class when I heard a voice say, "Jaime, can you tell us the steps that are necessary before an amendment can be passed to the Constitution?" Believe it or not, Renee, I had no idea where I was, but I gathered from the question that I must be in my Civics class. "I...um...I believe that the Senate, provided there's no filibuster, passes the amendment, and then, as long as the President signs it, the amendment becomes official."

I thought, under the circumstances, that I had done fairly well, but when I heard a number of giggles from some of the girls in the back of the room, I knew that my answer must not have even been close. "Jamie," said Mr. Harris, "what are you talking about? We've been discussing this for the last twenty minutes—the President has nothing to do with it."

Once he got off my case, I went back to wondering about Doreen. Had I done something wrong? Was I too pushy, or maybe I had gone too slowly. It was like agony—I went over and over every single thing that had happened. Maybe I should have started with the top button on her blouse and not the middle one. Maybe she had changed her mind about me. But why? What had I done? Over the next few days, it didn't get any better with Doreen—it would be like—we'd be almost there, but then she'd find a way to pull back, and I'd spend all of the next day wondering if it would ever happen. Sometimes, 99% of the way is a lot worse than 1% of the way.

By the time we finally went to the big event, I had just about given up. It all started off rather weirdly when—this is while we were making out—she pulled a box of condoms out of her purse and told me that it was my birthday present. Not a bad present! However, after what she had said to me in the cafeteria about the pill, I was shocked that she wanted me to use a condom. I guess she could see that in my face because she told me that someone she knew had been using the pill and it hadn't worked. So when you asked me if we were being careful, I almost laughed—you can't do much better than a birth control pill and a condom!

Anyways, when it happened...there's just no words to describe it, Renee. It's like nothing else in this world. But there is definitely something scary about it—at least afterwards. We've talked about this before—it's just so easy to walk away from a person after a few make-out sessions, but the big event is like a double-edged sword. Although you'll never experience anything else like it, afterwards you'll be terrified that something bad is going to happen. For me, it was like maybe she'll still end up becoming pregnant somehow, or maybe her older brother or father will find out what we did and they'll feel obligated to beat the daylights out of me. Maybe she'll even start talking about marriage. I had never _really_ asked myself those questions before, but those are the kind of questions I started asking myself over and over again.

I don't know about you, but I delete your e-mails after I read them. If Mom or Dad ever discovered them, it would be awful, and I'm convinced that Mom likes to snoop around my room.

Thanks for writing to me, Renee.

Jaime

4

The next evening, after dinner, Jaime and Renee sat on the couch in the living room and watched TV while their mother went through her kitchen fixations and their father went through his basement fascinations. Both Jaime and Renee had their feet up on a coffee table, and they were sitting close enough that they would occasionally, deliberately, bump their legs into each other in a friendly way. The sound on the TV was low enough that they could talk without having to raise their voices. "Isn't it great that we're buddies again?" said Renee. "I just loved your e-mail last night."

"You did?" said Jaime, as he tried to grab the clicker out of her hand.

"Hey, buddy," said Renee, "tonight the clicker is mine."

"I don't think so." Jaime reached across her body and tried to get it out of her hand, but Renee buried it under a cushion in the couch. "Not this time, buddy boy. Tonight, I'm in charge because I don't feel like watching another one of your goofy comedies."

"Then I suppose we're going have to watch one of your stupid game shows."

"Not necessarily. What would you like to watch?"

Jaime laughed. "It doesn't really matter to me because when I watch TV, I usually start to daydream."

Renee gave him a sly sideways look. "You must be daydreaming about your new girlfriend—I mean, what else could you be daydreaming about? Your homework?" Renee thought that was quite funny and laughed.

"I don't really have anyone in mind right now."

"No?" Renee's voice expressed doubt.

"Actually, I've enjoyed being alone since I broke up with Doreen."

"That won't last long, Jaime. Pretty soon you're going to lock onto someone, and before you know it, you'll be thinking about her morning, noon, and night."

Jaime looked at Renee and said, in a humorous way, "All we ever seem to talk about is our love lives."

"Or sex lives," said Renee. "I guess there's nothing else to talk about unless you're someone who's like Doreen and have your heart set on Princeton."

Princeton was like a code word to them now, a place that signified an extreme detachment from reality--the reality of romance, love, and sex. "There's plenty of other things to talk about, Renee, but they're all so boring."

"So you really haven't got your sights set on anyone?"

"No, I don't."

"And you don't feel like..." Renee stopped because she couldn't find a way to put what she wanted to say into words.

"Like what?"

"Like you're missing something—the part I love about it all is when I know that some guy I like is really beginning to think that I'm the one. Once that happens, it doesn't matter what I do or how I do it because he'll think it's wonderful. Part of me is scared when a guy gets that way, but there's another part of me that just loves it. Don't you ever think that way?"

"No, not really. It's more like...well, maybe it is the same thing, but I guess the way I'd say it is that I get really excited when I think a woman wants to make out with me."

"And how can you tell that?" said Renee. She put her hand on his arm and said, "I'm just searching for some tips, Jamie."

"For one thing, she doesn't look away from me when I look at her. When a girl's not interested in me, she'll always avert her gaze."

"A girl! Jaime, we're old enough to be called young ladies now."

Jaime leaned over and whispered into Renee's ear, "You're only a lady if you've been to the big event."

Renee giggled. "What a crude thing to say, Mr. Hastings. So, I take it from what you've said that if some woman is forty years old and has never gone to the big event, we'd still have to call her a girl?"

"No...I guess not, but—"

"Or," said Renee, who was laughing, "if I were talking with three other ladies and you knew that they had all been to the big event, then you'd be calling me a girl and you'd be calling them ladies?"

Jaime chuckled. "I see your point. Alright, Renee, you are now officially a young lady."

"You bet I am. And just so as you know—in my book, a girl becomes a lady when she reaches the age of consent, which in this state is sixteen."

"I guess that's the best way to decide."

"Of course it is because, by then, you have to take responsibility and realize that your attitude towards sex determines everything that will happen to you in your life. At least I learned that much from Jerry Hudson."

"Everything that will happen to you in your life?"

"Pretty much. You can mess up Princeton and it won't matter in the long run, but if you mess up your love life, then you've really messed up your life, perhaps permanently. That's why it's getting to the point where I'm afraid of all these guys who start locking onto me—there's just no way to tell what's going on in their minds."

"I've always thought that it's impossible to know what a person is really thinking."

"Please, Jaime, if I start hanging out with some guy who you think is a real turkey, then take me aside and tell me. I know it's a thankless task, but you have to do it because brothers and sisters should protect each other."

"For sure."

"I tried to do that when you were with Elaine, but you didn't want to hear it. But if it happens to me, you have to speak up and say something because I think I would listen to you, no matter how much I was in love with the guy."

"Maybe you would, but I think it's more likely that you would resent me for it."

"I swear to you that I won't do that. I might not follow your advice, but—"

At that moment, there was the sound of someone knocking at the front door.

5

Jaime rose from the couch, opened the door, and was shocked to see two policemen. "Does Jack Hastings live here?"

"Yes," said Jaime.

"We need to speak to him." The two cops walked past Jaime and entered the living room. "Where is he?"

"Downstairs," said Jaime, as he pointed at the door leading to the basement.

The two cops went over to the door, but it was locked. One of the cops banged on the door, which brought Rachel out from the kitchen. She arrived just in time to see the cop kick the door in with his foot, after which the two of them went storming down the stairs.

"God almighty," said Rachel. "What in the world is going on?"

Renee had gone over to the basement door and was peering down the cellar stairs. "They're bringing him up," said Renee. Although she tried to disguise it, Jamie thought she sounded happy.

Everyone was shocked when Jack appeared in handcuffs at the top of the stairs and was led rather roughly towards the front door. Jaime could tell that his father was badly bombed on his gin and tonics—not only that, he was only wearing a t shirt and some long johns that he used as pajamas.

"Why are you arresting my husband?" said Rachel, in a loud, panic-stricken voice.

"Sexual assault, ma'am—he'll be arraigned tomorrow morning."

Rachel followed her husband out to the patrol car, and once it drove off, she returned to the room and told Renee and Jaime that she was going to drive to the police station. "There's obviously been some mistake," she said.

"Do you want me to drive you?" asked Jamie. He knew his mother hardly ever drove, especially at night.

"No, you stay here with Renee—I'll be back when I've sorted this all out. It's just some terrible mistake—that's all it is."

After she left, Jamie and Renee decided to wait in the TV room for the local news, which came on at ten. "I doubt there's been a mistake," said Renee.

"It's just a question of how bad it's going to be," said Jaime.

For the next hour, they discussed what their father might have done and who he might have done it with. "I hope," said Jaime, "he wasn't stupid enough to try something with one of his patients."

In a gloomy voice, Renee said, "With the Creep Monster, all things are possible—he's just so warped."

"What are we going to do if we're called as character witnesses?" said Jaime, in an amused way.

"His lawyer better not ask me to speak in his defense because the first thing I'll do after I take the oath is to look at the Creep and throw up."

Neither one of them really thought their father's arrest would be on the local news, so they were both surprised when it was the lead news story. In a judgmental voice, Jane Owens, who was the newscaster for the 10 P.M show said, "We have breaking news to report to you." With a video tape playing in the background that showed their father, in handcuffs, being led up the steps to the police station, Jane said, "Jack Hastings, a prominent local dentist, has been arrested this evening for sexual assault and attempted rape. This evening, around six, a thirty-five-year-old woman who worked in his office told police officers that Mr. Hastings had attempted to rape her. When she arrived at the police station, she was not wearing her blouse, which she said had been ripped off during the attack. She also had a black eye and a large bruise on the side of her head, both of which occurred as she was attempting to flee the office, which is where the attack occurred. The woman, as yet unidentified, also told police she believed that Mr. Hastings had made a number of sexual advances on some of his patients. This has yet to be verified, but Channel 7 can tell you that the woman's torn blouse has been recovered from a trash bin that was located just outside Mr. Hasting's office."

"He's guilty," said Renee, when the story had finished.

"No doubt—did you hear the part about how he might have molested some of his patients?"

"This could really affect us, Jaime. He's going to lose his license."

"He's going to lose more than that, Renee—he's going to lose his freedom."

"Good riddance," said Renee.

## CHAPTER SEVEN: "I WOULD GIVE THE WORLD TO HAVE THIS MOMENT LAST FOREVER."

1

Jaime and Renee were still watching TV when their mother returned around midnight. After fussing around with her coat, which she moved from one closet to another, she sat down across from the two of them and said, "Children, your father has been falsely accused of a terrible crime—I spent over an hour talking to someone at the police station, and I don't know how anyone can believe this crazy story that—"

"What crazy story?" said Renee, who had decided to play ignorant.

"I don't want to talk about the details in front of you because they're not something that would be beneficial for you to hear. I'm sure that all this will be in tomorrow's newspaper, but I think you'd be much better off if you didn't read it."

"Mother," said Renee, "we're old enough to deal with the truth."

"It is not the truth," said Rachel.

"I'm not saying it is," said Renee, "but we need to know what happened."

"No, you don't. Besides, it's way past your bedtimes, so we'll talk about it tomorrow."

The next morning, the three of them ate breakfast together, but Rachel seemed to be interested in only talking about things that had no possible connection to the previous evening's events. She was, however, interrupted from her various soliloquies by a knock that was coming from the front door. Rachel rushed out of the room, and Renee and Jamie, still sitting in the kitchen, heard someone say, "Ma'am we have a search warrant—please step aside so we can enter."

In a loud voice, Rachel said, "You have no right to search this house."

"Yes, ma'am, I'm afraid that we do."

"On what grounds? Does this have something to do with those ludicrous charges that have been brought against my husband?"

In the kitchen, Renee leaned over towards Jaime and said, "At least she's loyal."

"I wonder what they're looking for?" said Jaime.

"They're going to find the _Playboys_."

"I bet they want to look at his computer."

"For what?" said Renee.

"Pornography."

Their mother walked into the kitchen and said, "This is just totally ridiculous—now they want to search the house."

Jaime and Renee returned from school around three, and when they entered the house, they found their mother talking to a well-dressed woman whom they had never seen before. "Renee, this is Myra Bevens—she works for...actually, I'm not quite sure who you're associated with Ms. Bevens."

"I work for the state of Pennsylvania, and my job is to investigate—"

"That's right—I'd forgotten. Alright, Renee, Ms. Bevens wants to speak to you privately."

2

Dear Jaime,

I am just so grossed out. Now I can understand why Mom wouldn't let us talk to each other all evening. Here's what happened--when the cops were searching down in the basement, they found the Creep Monster's _Playboys_ and guess what was in them? About ten photos of me, including one that he took at Lake Charles when we all went there last summer. I was wearing a bikini, and there was also one that he took when I was sitting on the couch in front of the TV and was wearing a short skirt. He had both the bikini and short skirt photos blown up—they were about a foot square. I know all about the photos because this Myra woman showed them to me.

It was a really weird conversation because Myra was convinced that the Creep had molested me and didn't act like she believed me when I said that he hadn't. Not that I went easy on the Creep Monster. "Only with his eyes" is what I told her. She went over all these totally embarrassing questions like whether he had ever "penetrated" me. Yuck! And she also wanted to know where he had touched me—all sorts of sick stuff like that. I was actually afraid that she was going to bring in a doctor who would examine me with a microscope right down to the last detail. I knew she was just trying to protect me, but it all seemed creepy to me. Creepy stuff from my creepy father.

What are we going to do, Jaime? I'll bet you a million dollars that the Creep has done something else that's eventually going to come out, and from what Myra told me, Dirty Old Dad will post bond and be home within the next couple of days. And who knows? Maybe he's got more photos of me hidden under a rafter somewhere. And I'm supposed to live with him? That's why the woman was asking me all those questions. If I'd been smart, I would have told her that the Creep was feeling me up on a regular basis with something else besides his eyes, but you know how I am—for some reason, I can't resist telling the truth, even when it's totally stupid to do so.

Do you think I should follow the Creep's example and get a lock for my door? At first, I thought I was being too extreme, but the more I think about it, the worse it gets. How close was he to raping me? Days? I mean, he ripped this woman's blouse off and tried to rape her in his office! How much chance would I have had if the two of us had been alone here? What could I have done?

I'm just so depressed, Jaime. Please talk to me.

Renee

Dear Renee,

The lock on the door is a good idea. Tomorrow, on the way back from school, I'll buy it for you, and I also think it would be a good idea to keep your cell phone close to you—that way, if he tries anything, you can call 911.

Renee, I'm so angry about this. After he gets back here—the day he gets back here—I'm going to talk to him and Mom. I want to tell them exactly what that woman told you about the photos. Mom must know about them, but she's probably already buried it under the rug as another false accusation. So what I'm going to do is explain to them what the consequences will be if he tries to molest you, especially since he's already been accused of attempted rape.

We've got to figure a way to get out of here, Renee—living with these two is ridiculous.

Jaime

Dear Jaime,

Do you think we could go to the movies tomorrow night? At least, that way, we won't have to hang around the house after dinner. What do you say?

Dear Renee,

Sure—if Mom tries to stop us, we'll just walk out the door without saying anything.

3

They were fifteen minutes early for the movie, and as a bunch of silent commercials rolled across the screen, Renee said, "It's so much better to be here than at home, but I'm really dreading tomorrow—it'll be a lot worse then. Did Mom tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"The Creep will be coming back from his jail cell. Are you still going to talk to the two of them?"

Ordinarily, Jaime would have been terrified about the prospect of confronting his father over his sexual problems, but he was so angry that he didn't feel any fear. "I have to, Renee—I need to let him know that if he tries anything with you, he'll be going to prison for years."

"I'm afraid of how he's going to react, Jaime. Are you sure that you want to go through with it?"

"There's no other choice, Renee."

"But what if he takes it out on me?"

"I'll make sure he doesn't."

"But what's to stop him?"

"Renee, it's important for him to know that we aren't going to tolerate him bothering you."

Renee put her head on Jaime's shoulder, and Jaime put his arm around her as she began to cry. After a minute or so, she lifted her face off his shoulder, and said, "Jamie, I keep having this fear that's he's going to strangle me."

"Strangle you?"

"Because he's such a pervert, Jamie, and if...if somehow he trapped me, there wouldn't be anything that I could do. He's just way stronger than I am."

Jaime resisted the temptation to tell Renee that their father would never go that far. It wasn't hard for him to remember that when she had first complained to him about their father, he hadn't fully believed her, and she had now been proven to be more than right.

"Suppose," he heard Renee say, "that he were to rape me and then decide that his best hope was to strangle me and...I don't know—get rid of my body or something. And then everyone would just assume that I had run away."

Renee put her head back on his shoulder and began to sob—Jamie could feel her body shaking. "Jamie, I just don't want to die that way—I have a right to live."

Just then, the movie started, and it was impossible to talk anymore. Renee took her head off Jamie's shoulder, and in the darkness, she reached over, took her brother's hand, and held it during the entire movie. Sometimes her grip was light, almost feathery, but then, all of a sudden, she would squeeze his hand in an emotional way.

.

4

"Jaime," said Renee as they were driving home, "please don't talk to Dad about this."

"Why not? We can't be like Mom and just pretend that nothing has happened."

"It won't do any good, Jaime, and most likely, it will only make things worse. I know you're just trying to protect me, but we can't let him know what we're thinking. It's not smart."

"But if I tell him that I'm looking out for you, don't you think that would help?"

"Maybe, but maybe not. I just think we're much better off if we keep our true feelings to ourselves. If he knows what we're thinking, then he's much more likely to be hostile to us."

"So we should just do nothing?"

"No, we bought the lock for my door, and really, all I want you to do is make sure that I'm never alone with him. Not once—not ever."

"That's a given," said Jaime.

"It might be harder to do that than you think, Jaime. What if I get sick and have to stay home from school?"

"Just stay in your room, lock the door, and keep your cell phone handy."

"Sure—and what if I have to go to the bathroom?"

By now, Jamie felt that Renee was overreacting. "He'll be at work, and if he decides to take the day off, I'll stay at home."

"But what if he comes home from work?"

"Mom will still be there."

"A lot of good that will do—she'll just bury her head in the sand and pretend that nothing is happening. He could probably bash down my door with a baseball bat and she wouldn't do anything."

"That's why I want to talk to them, Renee."

"No! Don't do that, Jaime. Promise me that you won't do that."

"It's just that—"

"Promise me, Jaime. I'm the one who's in danger, so I have the right to decide."

Jamie wasn't at all sure that he was doing the right thing when he said, "OK, Renee, if that's what you want."

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

"So let's just do the Mom trip when we're around him."

"The Mom trip?"

"It'll be our own little joke, Jaime. We'll just flatter the Creep because I think that will take his mind off us. The last thing we want him to do is notice us."

5

Jack posted bail and arrived home before Jaime and Renee returned from school the next day, but they didn't see him until dinner because he had immediately retreated to his bunker in the basement.

As Jack pounded down a monster gin and tonic with his meal, he let everyone in his family know exactly what he thought of his situation. "I knew something bad was going to happen to me when Obama was elected, but I never thought it would go this far. If there's anything more pathetic than this country, I've yet to see it."

"That's right," said Rachel. "Sometimes, I think a terrible disease has descended upon our land. We used to be the greatest nation on the earth, but now we're just a laughingstock."

"Things have become so bad," said Jack, "that I can't even come home from work without having someone invade my house on a trumped-up morals charge." Looking at Renee and Jaime, he said, "There are some things that I need to discuss with you."

"Would you like me to leave the room?" asked Rachel.

"No, that's not necessary. Alright, I'm sorry to have to talk about this in front of everyone, but as you all know, I was arrested because—"

"Jack, they haven't heard anything about it."

"They haven't?"

"No, I thought it would be best for them if they didn't know about all these false charges that have been brought against you."

"Actually," said Jaime, "I did hear something about what happened because people were talking about it at school."

"That figures," said Rachel. "Children should learn to keep their mouths shut and mind their own business."

Jack had obviously decided that bluster was the way through this crisis. "That's the kind of service we get for paying thousands upon thousands of dollars a year in school taxes. So what did you hear at school, Jamie?"

"It was something about—"

"Jack," said Rachel, "Renee shouldn't be listening to this."

"It's OK, Rachel, there's nothing that we can do about it. Sooner or later, someone like that dark friend of Renee's—Jocelyn or whatever her name is—will tell her all about it. We're better off explaining the truth to Renee before she's fed a bunch of lies. So what were people saying today, Jaime?"

"That your arrest had something to do with a woman who you worked with—if I understood it correctly, she accused you of assaulting her." Jaime was following Renee's advice to cool it with Dad.

"Yes, that's basically right. Not that I assaulted her but that she accused me of assaulting her. I'm going to tell you something about this woman, but for the time being, we're going to have to keep this to ourselves. However, I can assure you that if her lawyer is foolish enough to bring this to trial, everything that I'm about to say to you will be made public.

"To begin with, I never should have hired this woman—she'd been fired from her last two jobs, but I felt sorry for her because she had just been divorced and was desperate for money."

"No wonder this all happened to you," said Rachel. "In this world, everyone knows that the road to hell is paved with good intentions."

"No doubt about that," said Jack. "OK—so after this woman had worked as my receptionist for about a month, she began to ask me a lot of questions about how much money I made in a year—I think she assumed I was a millionaire. It wasn't long before she began to nag me about her salary, and then, on Monday, she came up to me and asked for a five-thousand-dollar-a-year raise. It had been a difficult day, and I was exhausted, so I said, 'For what?' She became angry and made some nasty remarks to me before she stormed out of the office. The next day, which was the day I was arrested, she acted as if nothing had happened, so I figured she had come to her senses. That afternoon, I left the office earlier than usual, around four-thirty, but then, five hours later, the cops came bursting in here and arrested me."

"So you had nothing at all to do with it?" Renee spoke in a tone of voice that made it sound as if she was relieved.

"Nothing," said Jack. "The whole thing was an attempt to frame me—this woman has already told her lawyer that she wants to sue me for a million dollars, so we all know what she's really after."

Trying not to sound accusatory, Jaime said, "Then she must have been the one to rip off her blouse—the one that everyone is talking about." It was hard, at this point, for Jaime not to laugh. From his experience, women didn't rip their blouses off.

"That's exactly what happened," said Jack. "And then, of course, she decided that to make it really look good, she'd fall and cut herself on the head. My lawyer thinks I should countersue for five million."

"I should hope so," said Rachel.

6

"There is one other thing I need to talk to you about," said Jack. "This involves you, Renee."

Everyone at the table knew what was coming. "Renee," said Jack, "your mother tells me that some woman from the state of Pennsylvania was here the day before yesterday."

"Yes, we talked."

"About what?"

"She had—she showed me some photographs that—I'm not sure where they came from."

"Photographs of who?"

"They were photos of me."

"She showed you the photos?"

"Yes, she did."

"Did they bother you?"

"Bother me? No—why would they bother me?"

"There's no reason why they should—it just goes to show you how desperate these people are. Here I am with some photos of my daughter in a desk downstairs, and you'd think it was a crime. I suppose, nowadays, with Obama in power it's some kind of federal offense, but I don't see anything wrong with it."

"Neither do I," said Renee.

"Did you and this woman talk about anything else?"

"Not really, Dad—she asked me a lot of stupid questions about whether you had ever acted inappropriately around me."

"And what did you say?"

"The truth—of course you've never acted inappropriately around me. She was just fishing around for dirt, Dad."

"That's all they ever do," said Rachel.

Jaime half-heartedly wished that he could think of some way to chime in with another vote of confidence for his father, but he couldn't find the words.

"I must have the best family in the world," said Jack. "You don't know how much your support means to me. It's bad enough when the world turns against you, but if your family turns against you, then you've had it."

"We would never do that," said Rachel.

7

By the time dinner was over, it was nearly eight, and Jaime and Renee retreated to the TV room so they could avoid their parents. As soon as they were alone, Renee said, "Let's get out of here, Jaime—this place is really beginning to drive me crazy."

"You feel like going to the mall?"

"Not really—let's just walk around for a while."

Once outside, the two of them began to go down a side street that would eventually take them towards the outskirts of Adeline. It was the first really warm night of spring, and by the time they were five minutes away from the house, Renee's mood changed. "It's spring!" she said triumphantly. "I feel like doing something crazy tonight, Jaime."

"I can't get over how much in denial Mom is."

"I don't want to talk about them, Jaime. My ugly parents," she said, with a mocking laugh. "Let's just be you and me and forget that they ever existed. Come on—I want to see which one of us can run faster. I bet I can beat you down to the white house at the corner."

Renee sprinted off like she was training for the Olympics, while Jaime slowly jogged after her—it just seemed too weird to be sprinting down a suburban street. "Come on," she said, as she stopped and turned around to look at him. "Don't tell me that's as fast as you can run—my brother, the cute little turtle."

Once more, she bolted off, and when she reached the corner, she had to wait almost a half-minute for Jaime. When he reached her, she grabbed one of his arms playfully and shook it as if she were trying to wake him up. "What's the matter with you tonight, Jaime? You seem like you're thinking about something really serious."

"No, not really." By now, dusk had started to fall.

"Let's stay out for a while," said Renee. "You want to? I know we're still children and should be doing our lessons, but I just can't be bothered with that kind of stuff tonight."

"I got all the lessons I needed at the dinner table," said Jaime.

"Wasn't that just the world's biggest joke?" Renee found a small branch by the road, and after picking it up, she swung it around like it was a wand. "You know what?" she said. "We started out as orphans, but then we had the misfortune to be scooped up by the creep and the freak, and now we've been orphaned all over again."

"Sad but true," said Jaime.

"Oh Lord," sang Renee in a singsong voice, "I am just your orphaned child—please be good to me and send me another set of parents."

"At least He gave us each other," said Jaime.

"Yes, Jamie—that He did," she said, in a soft tone of voice. They were quiet for a couple of minutes before Renee said, "We don't have to go home right away, do we? I know it's getting dark, but I could really use a break from my horror-show parents."

"I don't care so long as we don't get lost."

"Not a problem," said Renee decisively. "Jasmine and I have walked down this road many a time."

"You have?"

"Sure—we take it to get to the old mill pond."

"But this road doesn't go by the pond."

"No, but there's a trail up ahead that leads to it."

"Mom's going to miss us if we're not back by nine."

"It'll only take us five or ten minutes to get there from here. Let's go! It'll be fun to scope out the place—I haven't been there since last fall."

8

There was still enough light so that when they left the paved road, they could find their way down the trail that Renee had been talking about--it was actually an old cart path that was wide enough for them to walk side by side. "It's kind of spooky," said Renee, with a laugh. Reaching out with her hand, she stopped Jaime and whispered into his ear. "I'm kind of scared," she said, in a voice that didn't sound as if she was at all afraid. "Is it OK if I hold your hand? It isn't like we're at the mall or anything."

Before Jaime could reply, she took his hand in hers and held it in a friendly way as they walked towards the pond. Or was it a little too friendly? Jaime was beginning to sense something else, something that he didn't even really want to think about. Renee had fallen silent as she walked slightly in front of him and led him down the path, so the only thing going on between them was the touch of their hands. That touch, however, wasn't at all similar to the touch of their hands when they had been in the movie theatre. There, it had merely been comforting, something he had done to calm Renee as she began sobbing about their father. But here, it was different, really different.

But it couldn't be—it had to be all in his imagination. Even so, he wondered why, as soon as they had started holding hands, a wave of sexual thoughts had swept into his mind. It was so strange—almost as if a signal from her hand was passing through his hand and affecting the way that he thought. Wrong! He was wrong to think this way. And then, in a kind of swarm of enticement and doubt, he began to wonder if all her talk about them not being adopted was really a hint about something else. Terrible! What was the matter with him? It must be connected to his not having had a girlfriend for a while.

He was so distressed that he blurted out, "Maybe we should go back now, Renee." It hadn't come out the way that he had intended it to—instead of sounding determined, his voice was husky and almost inaudible.

"It's just over this little hill, Jaime." She continued towards the pond with Jaime's hand in hers—it was almost like he was being dragged. But not quite.

In another minute, they were standing hand in hand by the edge of the pond. It was very still—no sound from the water, and there were no other people around. In the distance, Jaime could see a small light on the outside of the boathouse, but most of the light came from the full moon, which had just risen over the far shore of the pond.

"Let's go over and sit on that bench, Jaime."

9

They sat on the bench, and for a few moments, they watched the reflection of the moon on the water. Renee finally let go of his hand, but it was only so she could move closer to him. In a soft voice, she said, "You could put your arm around me, if you like." She moved even closer to him so that if he hadn't put his arm around her, it would have been pressed against her body. "There, that's better...Jaime, I feel so alone in this world. Don't you?"

"Sometimes." Jaime had turned into the proverbial deer in the headlights—he didn't want to stay, and he didn't want to go.

She put her head on his shoulder, and he could hear the sound of her breathing. If only Renee weren't his sister...

"I would give the world," said Renee, "to have this moment last forever."

By now, Jamie could sense what was going to happen.

"Look at me, Jaime."

Renee had lifted her head off his shoulder, and he turned slightly in her direction. She moved her hand up to his shoulder and then to the back of his head and pulled him towards her, his lips towards her lips. At the last second he tried to turn slightly so that their lips wouldn't meet, but the hand on the back of his head changed his direction.

At the beginning, she only kissed him lightly, almost playfully—as if it were a joke. Tender, but lighthearted. Jaime resisted the temptation to say anything or pull back because...he wasn't sure why. It seemed like it was because he didn't want to hurt her feelings because he knew Renee well enough to know how she would react if he did anything to discourage her after she went off on one of these wild, willful tangents of hers. The time to do something about it would be later, maybe in an e-mail.

So, for now, he was passive—it was like he was trying to discourage her by his lack of enthusiasm. Usually, of course, Jamie went bonkers when he was kissing an attractive woman, but this time, he was hardly responding. At least not right at the beginning.

He began to realize that Renee was being clever about it. She would back off for a couple of seconds, and then, just when she sensed that he was about to say let's go home or something negative, she would begin kissing him again. Before long, Jaime had given up trying to leave and was even hoping that she would continue to kiss him.

She didn't disappoint. Now their kisses began to become a little more real. No more playing around. Jaime couldn't stop himself, and even though he knew it was a terrible thing to do, he began to respond.

For fifteen minutes, their kisses remained, in a sense, innocent, but there was no denying the passion. It was Renee who pulled back first, and when she did, she moved slightly away from Jaime and gazed wistfully towards the moon.

"I would give the world," she said, "to have this moment last forever."

## CHAPTER EIGHT: FANTASIES IN COLOR

1

The walk back home from the old mill pond was rather bizarre. Except for the light from the moon, it was nearly pitch black, and more out of necessity than anything else, they held hands as they walked up the cart path. Renee was again slightly in front of Jamie, and for a long time, almost five minutes, neither one of them said anything. Finally, Renee stopped and said, "I suppose you're going to hate me now." They had just reached the paved road, and from the light of a streetlamp, Jaime could see that she was upset, possibly angry.

"No," he said, in a cautious tone. "It's just that—"

"So you do hate me! I knew this would happen."

"Renee, stop talking like that—I don't hate you."

"Sure—so what were you going to say?"

"I...it makes me uncomfortable."

"It makes you uncomfortable to kiss me?" Renee's voice had an incredulous tone to it. When Jaime said nothing, Renee said, "Thanks for the compliment, Jaime—that's the first time a guy has ever told me that he felt uncomfortable kissing me."

"You know what I'm talking about, Renee."

"Don't tell me that you still believe we're a brother and a sister."

"We probably are, Renee."

She turned her back on him and started to walk down the road, but this time, she went at a much slower pace. Jaime was now walking beside her, and he could hear her muttering, again and again, "We probably are, Renee." Just as they turned the corner that they had raced down to earlier in the evening, she said, "But what if we weren't adopted? I mean, Jamie, I'm not the kind of person who would want to make out with my brother. Who do you think I am?"

Jaime didn't know what to say because he had a very strong feeling that he had done something wrong.

"Jaime, it's like a curse that's hanging over our heads. _We were not adopted._ I can't prove it, so you're going to have to take my word for it, but someday, we'll find out the truth. I wish you would stop hiding behind that adoption excuse of yours and admit that you have feelings for me."

She was being so headstrong—hadn't she considered how impossible it would be for them to have a relationship? "Renee it doesn't matter whether we're adopted or not—even if two kids are adopted, it's a crime, a felony, for them to have a sexual relationship."

"Was it a felony for me to kiss you? Are you going to report me?" Her voice was bitter.

"Renee—"

"Forget about it—I don't feel like talking to you. You've just ruined the best night of my life. But I don't think this is over yet, Jamie--not unless you find a way to crush the feelings that you have for me."

2

That evening, after they returned home, Jaime had been expecting an e-mail from Renee, but when he entered his e-mail account, he saw that there were only two e-mails from Pete, who was trying to persuade him to go to a rock concert in Pittsburgh on the following weekend. Jaime shut down his computer, turned out the light, and lay on top of his bed. Thoughts...thoughts...thoughts. The first wave concerned the absurd but alarming coincidence that just two days after a social worker had been talking to Renee about whether she had been molested by her father, her brother was kissing her. By a pond, on a bench, under the moonlight. How would that go over if it ever reached the light of day? And, of course, he would be the one to blame—in fact, everyone would probably assume that he had molested Renee.

The next wave of thoughts all concerned Renee. He now thought that, all along, right from the moment they left the house, she had wanted to go to the pond. And kiss him. He knew that Renee was not the kind of woman who made her kissing decisions lightly or impulsively. So, like it or not, he had to admit to himself that Renee had feelings for him. Feelings...the word that Renee had used—a very tame and proper word for something that implied much, much more. It was hard for Jaime not to connect what Renee had said and done that evening with anything but a strong and determined sexual advance. There was no use in even beginning to interpret it in any other fashion. Hadn't she said that she wouldn't have made out with him if she thought he was her brother? So she was admitting that they were making out, and anybody who knew anything about anything knew that making out was the pathway that led to the big event. A lot of things could disrupt the trip as one began down that path—misunderstandings, jealousies, Princetons, but when two people were making out, their minds usually began to race towards the big event. How could they not think and feel that way?

He had, it was true, been rather innocent about the whole thing. He certainly hadn't encouraged her or anything like that. But that was exactly the thing that frightened Jaime—she was the one leading him down the forbidden path, just like she had physically led him down the cart path when they were walking. And even though Renee didn't like being told no, he was going to have to figure out a way to do it—no matter what.

And then, there was her assertion that he had feelings for her. Did he? Jaime didn't really want to think about this because he suspected that it would only add fuel to the fire. But...did he? It was so difficult to tell—yes, of course, he had always liked her, but that liking had never included anything even remotely sexual. However, the day after she had become so angry at him for not backing her up when she was quarreling with their parents over whether they had been adopted, Jaime had, for the very first time, felt something. Some very vague sense that she was trying to tell him something, something that he didn't really want to consider.

That was when he had gone on the internet and discovered that incest, even among adopted children, was a felony in Pennsylvania. That had relaxed him, because even if, unthinkably, Renee was trying to draw him into something sexual, those tiny words on the computer screen now made anything along those lines impossible.

So it didn't really matter whether he had feelings for Renee. Maybe, way down deep, he did. But if those feelings—that feeling!—was actually there, he would have to crush it, which is exactly what she had predicted that he would do. There was no other alternative--otherwise, he'd end up on the news beside his father. What a pretty picture! But...how to tell Renee? And afterwards, for how long would she hate him? If there was one thing that people on this earth took hard, it was sexual rejection.

What was he going to do? Even though it took Jamie many hours to fall asleep, he couldn't figure out a solution. He couldn't love Renee, not in _that_ way, but he didn't want her to hate him for the rest of his life. Maybe it would all blow over, but he didn't think that was very likely--Renee had made up her mind, and he knew that once she decided on something, she wasn't about to change because of something that he might say to her.

As he became more and more drowsy, he continued to relive everything that had happened earlier that evening, and a scary thought entered his mind. Renee now had power over him—what if she blurted out to someone what they had done down at the pond? She didn't seem to be afraid of the social consequences at all—it just didn't seem to register with her. But the more Jaime thought about it, the more the social consequences were registering with him, and he knew that he was playing with fire, the fire of being compared to his father.

3

The next day, they avoided each other, but that evening, Renee sent him a long e-mail.

Dear Jaime,

Please do me a favor and at least read this before you delete it. I'm sorry that you're so angry at me, but I don't think that what we did was a crime—not even close

Like it or not, I think you're going to have to make a choice, Jamie, and I suppose you'll choose against me because you don't even realize that you have a choice. In a way, it's just like what you went through with Doreen Kiley—she didn't even consider the possibility of backing out of Princeton to spend her life with you.

But here you are, and you're all wrapped up in this idea that the creep and the freak are our real parents. They're not, and we're just two unrelated people who have lived under the same roof for fifteen years, and so, in reality, the fact that our so-called parents call us a brother and a sister means nothing.

Suppose they had adopted us a week ago--would you be upset about us kissing? Of course not. So suppose they had adopted us five years ago. What then? On what day, after you've been adopted, does it become wrong?

You probably don't even understand what I'm talking about. Let's say that an actual brother and sister were suddenly reunited and taken into a foster family. Then it wouldn't matter whether they had lived with their foster family for one day or forty years—it would be wrong for them to do what we did. But there's something really strange that comes down on the heads of orphans. If it's OK to kiss at one week, one month, or one year, then what makes it wrong at ten years? I'll answer my own question—according to the state of Pennsylvania, the reason adopted children can't have any kind of sexual relationship is that it might "disrupt the family."

Whoever wrote that gibberish must have been a comedian because I'd say that our so-called family has gone way past the point of being disrupted by the two of us and is now nothing but a pathetically bad joke.

I also have some news for you, Jaime. This afternoon, I went over to Aunt Melissa's and begged her to tell me the truth about whether we had been adopted. I told her that I really needed to know because if my father wasn't my real father, it would help me to deal with his arrest. Aunt Melissa was starting to go into her "ask your parents" trip when I told her about the photos of me in the _Playboys_.

You should have seen the look on Aunt Melissa's face when I told her that news--she was like freaking out. "He had photos of you—and these were where?"

"He had about ten photos of me—they were all found inside a stack of _Playboys_ that were in his desk in the basement." I wish I had remembered to tell Aunt Melissa that Dirty Old Dad also had two photos of her stuck in his stack of _Playboys_. I think she has a right to know about them, but I forgot to tell her because I was so concerned about finding out whether we had been adopted.

"What kind of photos?" said Aunt Melissa.

"What you might call sexy ones—like when we all went swimming at the lake and I was wearing a bikini."

"No, Renee, he is not your father. Your mother and him adopted you and Jaime when you were each about a year old."

"And I don't suppose we came from the same family?"

"The same family? What do you mean?"

"Jaime and I didn't have the same mother and father, did we?"

"No, of course not. It was all done through an adoption agency—your mother told me that Jaime was born near Adeline and you were born in Pittsburgh."

In case you're wondering, the only reason I asked her the questions about whether we had come from the same family was to please you because you seem so obsessed with using this brother/sister stuff to keep us apart.

Jaime, you have to look at me differently. I am not your sister, and you are not my brother—that's a fact. Go ask Aunt Melissa, if you don't believe me. Anyways, I wouldn't lie to you—you're too important to me.

Before you write back to me, please try and go past me being your sister. What if you had met me at school a month ago? Would you be all upset because we had just kissed? You'd have been begging me to go down to the old mill pond!

At least admit that you find me attractive. You do, don't you? If you don't, just say so, but I don't believe it for a second. In fact, I think you're _really_ attracted to me. You don't like to admit it to yourself—you've probably never admitted it to yourself—but when you were kissing me, I could tell what you felt for me.

Now, of course, you regret it. You probably even wish it hadn't happened.

So the choice has come back to you, Jaime. Are you going to keep nagging me about how I'm your sister? Or are you going to look at me as a woman?

Please wait a day before you reply. Don't tell me lies, Jaime. Don't start talking to me about felonies. Tell me what you felt when you were kissing me on the bench.

I would really appreciate it if you wouldn't break my heart into a million pieces.

Renee

4

The attendance reports that were sent to the principal's office the following day would show that Jamie was present for his classes, but although his body appeared to be there, his mind was far away. How was he going to respond to Renee's e-mail?

He tried to back out of it a little bit as he began to wonder whether Renee was just throwing herself on him because she had become so disgusted and afraid of their father. Kind of like a shoulder to cry on, but then it had gone a little too far.

Jamie knew that if he said anything like that to Renee, it would infuriate her. Besides, even he didn't think that was true. In all his life, he'd never had a woman talk to him in quite the way that Renee had in her e-mail. Both Elaine and Doreen had constantly told him how much they loved him, but it was more like a standard made-for-TV script than the real thing. As the day went along, Renee's attitude towards him began to cause an ache inside himself. She wasn't coming flat out and telling him that she loved him, but he knew that was only because she wanted to please him and she could sense that any expression of her real feelings would turn him off.

Her e-mail had been so heartfelt, but at the same time, there was a strong element of desperation to it. Like she knew that she was going to be rejected and had just done the best she could to avoid the crushing blow.

Later, in the afternoon, he began to sort through the fact that they had been adopted—there was now no longer any point in trying to deny it. But what did that mean? The law was the law, but as Renee had pointed out, the law made absolutely no sense and seemed like some washed-up piece of deadwood from the Puritan days. The basic premise that a sexual relationship between adopted children could disrupt the family might well be true for some families, but certainly not for theirs. And...why would it be disruptive for any family? Who came up with that idea?

It was just that no one--assuming he was interested in pursuing a relationship with Renee--would approve of it. Absolutely no one. His parents would go ultra ballistic, and the lady from the social welfare agency would probably come by and have him arrested. Even Aunt Melissa would throw some kind of tantrum, and if anyone at the high school found out about it, both he and Renee would be the butt of a tidal wave of ridicule.

Imagine! Both he and Renee could get eight years of jail time for having a sexual relationship with each other—even if it was totally consensual. But did that really make it wrong? It was obviously dangerous, but was it wrong? In Jamie's mind, the answer to that question was no.

Which left him with the question that Renee kept insisting upon, and the one that he had been avoiding all day. Was he attracted to Renee? He couldn't figure it out. It was almost like he was attracted, but then, when he thought about it, something would come into his mind, and the whole attraction thing would shut down. Deep down, he felt that thinking about Renee in a sexual way was a prohibited thought, something that his mind wouldn't really let him consider. As soon as he began to picture her sexually in his mind, something came along and obliterated the picture.

It was probably the brother/sister taboo that was causing this to happen. A very prohibited thought. One of the most prohibited thoughts imaginable. But...he had to think it over.

After school ended, he walked down to the old mill pond and sat on the bench that he and Renee had used for their make-out session. Just to try and understand what was going on. There were a couple of people walking along the edge of the pond, and it had turned cloudy and somewhat cooler, but Jamie was oblivious to everything except for this: Was he attracted to Renee? Sexually attracted. Might as well get the sex word out there because that's what Renee was talking about.

Renee was obviously attracted to him—no sense in denying that. He imagined, although he thought that he probably shouldn't, what it would be like if she were sitting next to him now. Her hair, her head on his shoulder, her eyes, her mouth, her lips. Her lips drawing close to his. Kissing...and kissing some more.

"Jamie," he said to himself, "you shouldn't be thinking this way." He left the bench and walked back and forth along the edge of the pond. He had to settle himself down. He was starting to have fantasies—the same kind of fantasies that he had gone through shortly before he and Doreen went to the big event. "Unpublishable fantasies," said Jaime to himself with a laugh. "In fact, it's kind of a disgrace that I'm even publishing them in my own mind."

Distracted by all his thoughts, Jamie sat down on the exact same bench again, and almost immediately, the fantasies began to return—this time, let us say, they were in color.

Shocked, Jamie leaped off the bench and left the pond. But as he followed the path that led to the road, he knew that he had discovered the truth. Without doubt, he was attracted to Renee. Sexually attracted.

5

Dear Renee,

I'm glad that Aunt Melissa finally told you the truth—it was totally stupid for everyone not to tell us. It still kind of amazes me because I always took it for granted that Mom and Dad were our parents.

I guess...I don't know where to begin. I'm afraid of all this, Renee. I really am. I want to say some things to you, but it's not like I'm going to be the judge and the jury.

I've been thinking about this all day, so please don't get mad at me if I stumble around--what I'm trying to tell you is to wait until you've reached the end of this e-mail before you decide that you don't like me anymore.

To begin with, I think I know what we're talking about. We haven't exactly come out and said it directly, but you've dropped a lot of hints. Maybe I've misunderstood them, but I don't think so.

The number-one problem with us having a relationship that isn't like us being a brother and a sister is this: What will everyone else think about it? Have you really considered this?

Since it turns out that we were adopted, I don't see anything wrong with what we're talking about, but everyone else will. The state of Pennsylvania will be furious—like prison-time furious—Mom and Dad will be furious, Aunt Melissa will be furious, and anyone we meet that discovers we're a brother and sister will just think that we're totally sick in the head.

It's almost like I can handle the people in power—like the cops and our parents--but I can't imagine telling Pete and Tommy about it. Maybe Jasmine wouldn't mind, but Pete and Tommy probably would...actually, I don't know what they'd think—I guess they'd accept it, but once I left the room, they'd probably start mocking me, which would mean that they don't respect me anymore.

So you—we--can't just blow that all off and say it doesn't matter. How can we do what we're talking about if there's no world to do it in? As far as I can see, everybody will be doing everything in their power to shut us down, and I'm certainly not one who wants to fight the world.

But I guess what you really want to know is whether I'm attracted to you. I think this means a lot more to you than all this talk about other people and their reactions.

To tell you the truth, I couldn't figure it out—this has all been so sudden, and up until a couple of days ago you were, at least in my mind, my sister. And now there's all these new things to think about—a whole different world of possibilities. And it seems like you've been thinking about these possibilities for a lot longer than I have.

Anyways, after school, I went down to the bench we sat on two nights ago and thought it over. Renee, I have to say it—God forgive me for saying it, but I can't deny it: Your kiss is like the sweetest fire.

So you're right—I am sexually attracted to you.

Jaime

## CHAPTER NINE: "I FEEL THINGS FOR YOU THAT I NEVER FELT FOR ANYONE ELSE."

1

Jamie was surprised when Renee didn't write back to him, and he was even more surprised when she seemed cold and standoffish to him in the morning. But she did offer to walk to school with him. They had gone a little ways before Renee said, "I don't know, Jamie—what you say about other people makes sense to me." She looked around herself theatrically, and in almost a whisper, she said, "I'm glad no one saw us kissing on the bench."

Jamie was tempted to ask her why she hadn't thought of this before. Instead, he said, "So am I."

"It's just so unfair, Jamie. Gays came out of the closet twenty years ago, but we'd have to stay in the closet until the day we died."

"That's for sure." He was almost relieved that she was talking this way.

"Think about it," said Renee. "People wouldn't even have to see us together to figure out that something was going on. I mean, how weird would it look if neither one of us had a boyfriend or a girlfriend and all the two of us did was hang out together? People aren't stupid—there would be rumors."

"It's like we'd have to have phony dates with someone to keep everybody happy."

Renee didn't laugh at his joke. "It's so ridiculous—the curse of being an orphan."

They walked along in silence until Renee said, "So what are we going to do, Jamie? Are we just going to give up and go our separate ways because this stupid world can't handle us going out on a date?"

Jamie had assumed that Renee was backing out of it, but now, with her implied defiance of other people's opinions, he was confused and didn't know what to say.

Renee had stopped by the side of the road and was standing near a lilac bush that had just begun to bloom. Jamie stood next to her as she broke off a small sprig of new white blossoms. After smelling it, she put the sprig in her hair. "Spring," she said. "New flowers and a new love."

Twirling, she danced up the road a few feet. Turning to Jaime, she said, "I know what we'll do-- we'll just keep it a secret. You did say that you're attracted to me—you haven't changed your mind about that, have you?"

"No, I haven't changed my mind." Now that Renee was making her intentions clear, Jamie wasn't about to disappoint her—or himself.

For a long time, maybe a couple of minutes, neither of them said anything. Finally, just before they reached the side road that led to the school, Renee said, "So let's go out on a date, Jaime. We'll go to the movies on Friday night or something. Don't worry—I know we can't hold hands if there's anyone who can see us. We'll just have to sneak around until we can figure out something. Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"Unless we break up—that happens all the time, you know. I don't want you to think that because I'm going out with you that I'm promising you anything."

He smiled at her and then laughed.

"What's so funny, Jamie?"

"I guess our relationship really has changed. That's not the first time I've heard that."

"Yes, Jamie, our relationship has definitely changed."

2

Dear Jaime,

I'm so excited about tomorrow night—our first date! I'm going to dress up a little bit, but don't worry—I'll wear that long grey spring coat of mine so that Mom won't suspect anything. She'd never suspect you of being my date, of course, but she'd probably think that you were dropping me off to meet some guy. And you know how she is about things like that!

Jamie, I'm really looking forward to tomorrow night. Please don't worry about all the other people in the world—just concentrate on me.

Renee

Dear Renee,

I'm still a little nervous about all this, and sometimes, when I'm nervous, I say stupid things. Just don't expect too much of me, and everything will be alright.

Dear Jaime,

I know all about that expectations stuff, but sometimes I just can't help it. Please don't break my heart into a million pieces, Jamie. And please don't reject me because some jerk in the last row of the movie theatre gives us a funny look.

Dear Renee,

I admit that I still have some trouble thinking of you as my girlfriend, but I'm working on it.

Dear Jaime,

Hopefully, after tomorrow night, you won't have any more trouble with that. (I also hope you know how to read between the lines.)

Jaime did know how to read between the lines, and he knew what Renee meant. After the movie, they would be going down to the old mill pond.

3

The movie was a not-so-funny comedy that didn't interest either one of them very much. But they had held hands in a romantic way, and towards the end of the movie, Renee had moved over towards him slightly so that their legs were just barely touching. When Jaime tried to move closer to her, she backed away, but later, she returned. "Body flirting," said Jaime to himself, with a nervous laugh. All he could think about was the old mill pond. He could hardly believe that they would be going there after the movie. Because, this time, it wouldn't be like what had happened on the bench, which seemed almost accidental. This time, there could be no mistaking what their intentions were.

After the movie, they walked to his car and began to drive back towards home although the route home was in the same direction as the old mill pond.

It was very quiet in the car—a lot of tension in the air. Finally, Renee said, "I hope we're not going straight home, Jaime. Remember, we can't very well kiss at the front door."

"Maybe, if I take Sherman Street, we can go down to the old mill pond."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Once again, they fell silent—everybody was thinking ahead, so the present didn't seem to mean much. Eventually, there was a little bit of chatter, and then Renee turned on the radio, which was a pleasant distraction. Tension! Expectations! How far was it going to go?

When they reached the pond, Jamie found a remote spot to park. "This looks good," said Renee, as if to herself. Looking at Jaime, she said, "This is a little fast for our first date, but I do know you some!"

"Actually," said Jaime, "it's our second date."

"I guess it is. Are we going to get in the back seat? We can't very well kiss with the gear shift between us."

Once in the back seat, they were still both hesitant. Renee put her head on his shoulder and said, "I'm trusting you, Jamie."

He was only thinking about what it would feel like when he kissed her and didn't understand what she was talking about. "Trusting me?"

"Now...since you're not my brother anymore...and...well, maybe you're expecting too much of me. Let me tell you something—I'm not Doreen Kiley."

He was shocked that she would say something like that—it was almost an accusation. "Renee, don't be so nervous—I'm not going to do anything crazy."

"I'm always nervous when I'm in the back seat of a guy's car and I can tell that he's about to kiss me."

Slowly, hesitantly, they began to kiss. It was a lot like when they had been sitting on the bench, only this time, Renee was the one holding back. But it wasn't long before she began to respond, and the two of them began to really get into it. It was as if one of them would try and tell the other how much this meant to them, and then the other one would respond in an even more intense fashion.

Occasionally, like two deep-sea divers coming up for air, they would pause and murmur into each other's ear. "This is going so fast," said Renee.

"I know," said Jamie.

"It's scary. I feel things for you that I never felt for anyone else—ever!"

Jamie had taken in enough air and the kissing resumed. Hot and heavy.

The next time they came up for air, Renee said, "Jamie, we have to stop—we just have to stop. I'm getting way too carried away. Don't be mad at me."

"I'm not—don't even think that."

"This is so difficult for me, Jamie. I'm really—I can hardly control myself. You don't know how much I feel for you. I'm thinking crazy things, Jaime."

He was stroking her hair with his hand and kissed her lightly on the forehead before he said, "Let's go out again—OK?"

"Of course we're going out again." Once more, they kissed until, finally, Renee pulled away and murmured into his ear, "Now I know what you meant when you said, 'Your kiss is like the sweetest fire.'"

4

Jaime couldn't really understand what was going on inside himself. Just a few days ago, he had been searching for excuses to avoid Renee, and now he was asking her to go out with him. All the negativity and doubt he had suffered through had suddenly vanished. It was like he had become totally intoxicated, intoxicated by Renee's kisses. He couldn't think straight, he couldn't hardly think at all. He'd be at school and all he could imagine was Renee. The way she was pressing her body into his when they kissed. The way that she had put her hand under his shirt when they were really deep into it. The feel of her hand on his skin.

Were they really ready? He knew that she must be thinking about the forever deal. She had said a couple of times that they were going really fast. And they were, at least by everything that he had ever experienced. Could he control himself? Did he want to control himself? And if they went to the big event, then what? How was it going to be possible to hide that one? The same old fear, but he wanted her so much that the fear seemed almost ridiculous, like someone screaming from a hundred miles away. Why shouldn't they? He felt that if Renee asked him to crawl to the old mill pond, he would do it in a heartbeat.

What was she thinking? When they had talked about the forever deal and the big event, it had been almost casual, as if it could never apply to themselves. But Renee was no dummy, and she knew—probably anybody would know—that the other person was also thinking about going to the big event. And if Renee was at all like him, which he thought she was, then she was thinking about it constantly.

It just turned him on to realize that she might let him. Because he wanted to—so much so, that had she started coming up with all his old objections about how the outside world would view it, he would have told her that those things didn't matter anymore. But...how could it be right to say that? It was like...the way it worked was that the woman had the responsibility for all the pregnancy stuff, but because it was always assumed that the man had talked the woman into it, the man had to answer for the question of whether it had been right or wrong to take his woman to the big event. And what made it so bad in his case was that every single person on the earth would accuse him of incest—and probably molestation--if he went all the way with Renee. Afterwards, she could tell everyone that it was actually, at least at the beginning, a lot more her idea than his, but it wouldn't make the slightest bit of difference.

That's the way society attempted to control sexuality—the woman had to fear pregnancy, and the man had to fear the judgment of the law. Jamie knew that if he and Renee were caught kissing, it would be bad enough, but if they were _ever_ to be caught doing the forever deal, his life would be trashed. And even though the blame would fall almost solely on him, Renee's life would also be trashed. It might take them years to recover.

He shouldn't be thinking about it at all because it was totally wrong. He had to consider Renee and what was best for her. They could talk all their happy talk about the big event, but in twenty years, what would they think of each other if they went through with it? She'd probably end up blaming him, and she'd probably be right. It was a totally losing proposition.

Maybe "totally losing" was too extreme. Because, in those moments when they crossed the line, there would be, besides the explosion of unchecked lust, a shared passion that might bond them together forever. That's where the fact that they were adopted might actually help them. Because if they did go to the big event, they would become outlaws with no one else to trust but themselves. A lot of sexual relationships died away, but theirs might last because they would both know that they had no one else to turn to.

It might really, then, be a forever deal.

Or was he just coming up with some stupid thoughts in an attempt to justify the most stupid thing that he would ever do?

## CHAPTER TEN: "SHE'S BECOME ANOTHER ONE OF TODAY'S MOUTHY CHILDREN."

1

However, before Jaime and Renee went out on their next date, everything took an unexpected turn. Because Jack was presumed innocent until proven guilty, he was still going to the office every day, but things took a decided turn for the worse when he was arrested around noontime on Monday and charged with thirteen sexual offences. All of the counts were fairly minor, as long as one considered groping a patient to be a minor offense, but the state board that regulated dentists was no longer willing to take a chance on him, and they had revoked his license, at least until he was acquitted, which now seemed to be a most unlikely outcome.

Jack was still at the county jail Monday evening, and a kind of emergency summit was convened by Rachel at the Hasting's house. It occurred just after dinner--besides Renee and Jamie, Dave and Melissa Harrington were also present.

Rachel was terribly upset—by now, she seemed to have at least partially thrown off the illusion that her husband was the victim of false charges.

"These women can't all be lying," she said to no one in particular and everyone in general. "How could they be? Thirteen different women! My God, what is the matter with him?"

"He's obviously done some bad things," said Dave. "To tell you the truth, I was always troubled by his politics and the things that he said about women."

"Like what?" said Melissa.

"Please," said Rachel, "the children are here. We have to be considerate of them because what I'm most concerned about is what's going to happen to us if Jack is sent to prison."

"In what way?" said Dave.

"For one thing," said Rachel, "what about money? I doubt Jack will ever be able to practice dentistry again. Even if he's somehow acquitted, who's going to want to sit in the chair while he's drilling them? I certainly wouldn't."

"That's probably true," said Dave, "but from everything Jack's told me, he has a lot of money in stocks and bonds."

"And where do you suppose that's going to go?" said Rachel. "We'll be lucky to have the shirts on our backs by the time these thirteen women stop suing us."

"Isn't that covered by malpractice insurance?" asked Melissa.

"No!" said Rachel emphatically. "Groping is not covered—or at least it shouldn't be."

"I never told anyone this before," said Melissa, "but Jack groped me when I was here last Christmas."

"He did what?" said Dave.

"He groped me—he put his hand right on my leg and began to feel me up."

Jamie had to put his hand over his mouth to stop from laughing at his father's ribald antics. Thank God he wasn't related to the guy.

"Where did this happen?" asked Rachel, in a shocked tone. "At the dinner table? No, it couldn't have been there because you weren't sitting next to him."

"It was about a week before the Christmas dinner when I came over to help you with the preparations."

"Dear God," said Rachel. "What next?"

"I think," said Renee, "the 'what next?' would be the photos of me that he had stashed away in his pile of _Playboys_."

2

"Of all the things that bother me about this," said Rachel, "there is nothing that bothers me more than that."

"Melissa," said Dave, "are these the photos that you were telling me about?"

Before Melissa could say anything, Renee said, "Uncle Dave, he had these sleazy photos of me that he had taken over the past year—I think if he could have put the camera up my skirt, he would have done it."

"Renee!" said Rachel, in a harsh voice. "I know this is a difficult time for you, but it's disgraceful for you to talk that way. Your father is in enough trouble without me having to listen to such a ridiculous exaggeration."

"Perhaps you didn't see the photos, mother. Did you?"

"Of course not. That odd-looking lady from the Pennsylvania social services asked me if I wanted to examine them, but I told her there was nothing wrong with my husband having photos of his daughter."

"Obviously not," said Renee, "but there was one where—"

"Renee!"

"—he must have been pretending to pick something up off the floor because—"

"Renee, will you please stop—I've heard enough! We all know that your father has made some mistakes."

"—because, basically, this photograph is just a photograph of what was under my skirt."

"Renee," said Rachel, "I've asked you three times not to talk about this—that's enough! We all get your point."

"Yes, mother." Renee was saying the word mother with a great deal of sarcasm. Looking towards Jaime, she said, "Since I'm not allowed to talk, why don't you tell Aunt Melissa and Uncle Dave what other photos my father had in his stack of _Playboys_."

All eyes turned to Jaime as if he were about to convey some monstrously dreadful thing, when, in actuality, it was only one of his Dad's more minor infractions. "You mean the ones of Aunt Melissa?"

"For God's sake!" said Melissa.

For the first time, Dave became upset. Turning to Renee, he said, "The photos of Aunt Melissa were also in the _Playboys_?"

"Yes, they were," said Renee.

"You know this for a fact?"

"I sure do—when the lady showed me the photos of myself, she said there were two others that had been found in the _Playboys_ , and after showing them to me, she asked me if I knew who it was."

"Where were they taken?" said Dave.

"They must have been taken the same day that he took the one of me in the bikini. It was last summer on that afternoon when we all went to Lake Charles."

"This is just awful," said Rachel.

In a cold, lawyer-like voice, Melissa said, "What was I wearing?"

"You had just come out of the water and must have been about twenty feet from my father when he snapped the photos. You were wearing that blue and white bikini of yours—one of those photos was one of the three that he had enlarged."

"He...had...them...enlarged." It was obvious that Melissa was furious.

"Yes," said Renee. "Yours was the biggest actually—probably eighteen by twenty four inches, so I guess that it couldn't actually have been found inside the _Playboys_ but was leaning against his desk or something. He also had two photos of me that were enlarged--the one of me in the bikini and the one he took while he was crawling around on the floor and looking up my skirt. Those were only about twelve by twelve, so I guess he was more attracted to you than to me."

Jaime knew that none of them would enjoy that joke.

3

"Rachel," said Dave, "have you considered divorce?"

"I suppose I should. I'm hoping that Jack will at least apologize to me, but so far, he hasn't—it may be that he's been too distracted by all these charges that have been brought against him to consider what I might be feeling."

"This afternoon," said Dave, "I talked to a friend of mine who's a lawyer, and what he told me is that the sooner you divorce him, the more money you'll receive at the settlement."

"Why is that?"

"Because, like you say, he's likely to be sued, and you need to get control of the money that's coming to you before it all ends up in the hands of his victims."

"Regardless of the money issues," said Melissa, "you really should start divorce proceedings right away, Rachel. If Dave ever did something like that with Ashley, he'd be lucky if I didn't put arsenic in his morning cup of coffee."

"Even so," said Rachel, "I worry how a divorce would affect the children."

"It certainly wouldn't bother me if you divorced him," said Renee.

"You should remember," said Rachel to Renee, "that he is your father. He may have done some terrible things, but he is your father, and you shouldn't forget that."

"He is not my father—he never was, and he never will be."

"What an awful thing to say, Renee. Just because—"

"Rachel," said Melissa, "shortly after Jack was arrested for the attempted rape, Renee told me about the photos he had taken of her, and because of that, I told her that she and Jaime had been adopted."

Rachel leaped out of her chair. "You had no right to do that—absolutely no right, no right at all. Who do you think you are?"

"I'm her aunt, Rachel--that's who I am, and if my niece—if Renee...Renee felt—she was scared that Jack was going to molest her, so—"

"He never molested her, Melissa. Let's get that one off the table right now."

Melissa looked at Renee and said, "I know I've asked you this before, but you're quite sure that your father never actually followed through with anything—right?"

Rachel was still standing, and in a loud voice, she said, "What's that got to do with anything? Stop trying to evade my question, Melissa—why did you tell Renee that Jack wasn't her father?"

"Because," said Renee before Melissa could answer, "who wants to have someone like him for a father? I suppose, mother, you think it's necessary to keep lying because you've been lying to me for the past fifteen years, but no sane person would want to go through life thinking that someone like my so-called father was my real father."

"Renee, you really need to watch your mouth," said Rachel. "And as far as Aunt Melissa goes, it's not her place to talk to you about whether or not you were adopted."

"Maybe it isn't Aunt Melissa's place," said Renee, "but it is her duty, a duty which you shirked for some reason that I'll never be able to understand."

"I will not," said Rachel, "stand here and listen to talk like this. Maybe, Melissa, I'll go over to your house someday and tell your kids who their real parents are."

Dave and Melissa looked at each other in a mystified way. Finally, Melissa said, "What is that supposed to mean, Rachel?"

"Never mind, but everybody has their own secrets, don't they? And I certainly don't think it's the place of strangers to come into somebody's house and start tipping over all the dirty laundry."

Melissa let the "stranger" comment pass, along with the absurd allegation about her kids' origins, and Rachel sat down with a thump and glared at everyone present—one at a time.

4

"Rachel," said Melissa, in a soothing tone, "it's occurred to me that it might not be the best thing for Renee to remain here, especially after Jack posts bail and returns home. She's frightened of him, and I don't blame her."

"I suppose, but where can she go?" It was obvious that Rachel had no interest in what Melissa was saying and was still stewing over the supposed outrage that her sister had committed.

"I was thinking that Renee could stay with us for a little while, perhaps even until Jack is sentenced."

"With you?" said Rachel.

For Renee, the onrushing tides of her new romance had supplanted any fear that she felt for her father, so she heard this suggestion with nothing but alarm. It would be relatively easy for Jamie to take her to the mall or the movies when they were living together, but it would be a lot more complicated if she were living with the Harringtons.

"Yes," said Dave, "there's enough room. Melissa and I have talked this over, and we think it will work."

"Where would she stay? You don't have an extra bedroom--don't tell me that Renee's going to sleep on the couch in the living room?"

"Of course not," said Melissa. "We thought she could stay in Tricia's room--it's a big bedroom and we have an extra bed that we can move in there."

"No!" said Renee. "I don't want to do that. It's nice of you to offer, but it's not necessary."

"I think it's probably the best thing," said Melissa.

"Aunt Melissa—"

"Renee," said Melissa, "we all know what your father is like, and I know you're scared to be around him, so—"

"I do not want to move away from here," said Renee.

"Actually," said Rachel, "I think it's an excellent idea. As we all know, Jack is having some problems, and it might be better if Renee were to stay with you, Melissa. Also, we won't have the state of Pennsylvania snooping around here if Renee is living somewhere else."

"So I have to move because my so-called father is a pervert?"

"Renee, it's because of your disrespectful comments, especially as they pertain to your father, that I don't want you living here at the present time. And yes, I think things might improve for Jack if you weren't here."

"Wouldn't things be better for everyone if he wasn't here?"

"I think you had best go with Aunt Melissa, Renee," said her mother. "To be honest with you, your attitude is too much for me to handle right now. You would think that at a time like this you would be at least a little bit supportive—I'm just so sick and tired of listening to all the disrespect that you show towards your father."

"Mother—"

"Yes, I know what you're going to say. Granted, he's probably done some disgraceful things, but you heard what he said at the dinner table after he was arrested the first time. Didn't he say how grateful he was for the support of his family? And didn't you say that you didn't believe the woman who accused him of that awful crime? And now, just because—I admit it's awful what he's done, but that doesn't mean we can run around and call him a pervert. Not in my house! So I think you'd better leave—maybe after you've been away for a while, you'll start singing a different song."

"You two are not my parents," said Renee.

"You see what happens?" said Rachel to Melissa. "You never should have told Renee that she was adopted because now she's become another one of today's mouthy children, someone who doesn't show the least amount of respect for her parents. Like it or not, Renee, you are going with Aunt Melissa—and furthermore, you will be going with her when she leaves tonight. So pack your things and stop arguing with me because I've had enough backtalk tonight to last for a year."

5

"Renee," said Melissa, "this is just for a short period of time. You can see how things are here—it's definitely for the best."

"I don't want to go," said Renee, in a tone of voice that was both desperate and defiant.

"There's no reason she has to leave here," said Jaime. "I've been looking out for Renee since she told me about the photos—actually, it's been a lot longer than that."

"The photos are completely beside the point," said Rachel to Jamie. "The reason Renee will be leaving here doesn't have anything to do with your father—it's about her attitude and the way she talks to me."

"So," said Renee, "I have to leave the house because you don't like the way I talk to you? That's not just wrong—it's illegal."

"I can throw you out of here anytime I want—you're old enough, and there's nothing illegal about it."

"Just for a couple of weeks," said Melissa.

"No, Melissa," said Rachel, "I hate to impose on your hospitality, but I think it will have to be for at least a month, if not the whole summer. Maybe, by that time, Renee will have learned to respect her mother and father. Don't worry—I'll pay you a fair amount of money for her room and board."

Melissa stood up, walked over to Renee, and took her hand. In a kindly fashion, she said, "I know this is an awkward thing for you, Renee—perhaps what we'll do is have Ashley move into Tricia's room, and then—"

"There's no reason why Tricia and Ashley can't have their own rooms, Aunt Melissa. Do you think they're going to like me if you force the two of them to sleep in the same bedroom?"

"We'll figure it all out, Renee—don't you think you'd be happier if you weren't around your father?"

"But I have all my things here. What about my computer?"

"You're not moving into a cave, Renee—we have plugs on the wall."

"I can bring my computer?"

"Sure, but not tonight—OK? Dave and you can come over tomorrow and get your things."

"But my Dad might be here by then."

"If he is, Jaime can help Dave—it's not going to be a big problem, Renee. I want to help you and make your life easier—that's all."

"Renee," said her mother, "don't cause any more trouble—your father could be home any minute, and I certainly wouldn't—"

"Fine!" said Renee, in an angry tone. "I don't want to go, but it doesn't appear that I have a choice."

"No, you don't," said Rachel.

## CHAPTER ELEVEN: LAYING DOWN THE LAW

1

The next day, disaster struck. Jack was expected to be released by three, which meant that Dave and Jaime would be packing up Renee's things that evening. Since it would hardly do to have either her son or her brother-in-law exposed to the mess that Renee always seemed to create, Rachel spent most of the afternoon cleaning up her daughter's room. She also had to deal with the sensitive matter of gathering together Renee's underwear and various other "feminine things," to use her terminology.

She had just about finished her cleaning operation when she realized that she hadn't dusted inside the drawer to the night table that stood by Renee's bed. Rachel had talked to Melissa earlier in the day and was told that Renee had drawn up quite a long list of things that she wanted brought over to the Harrington's house. Rachel had no idea whether any of these things were in the drawer of the night table, but there was no sense in taking a chance that Dave would find a tiny pigpen when he opened the drawer.

Carrying her cleaning rag, Rachel walked over to the night table, opened the drawer, and...at first, she wasn't quite sure what she was looking at—it seemed to be a painting with writing underneath. She reached down, picked it up, and walked over to a nearby light so that she could read what was on it.

At the top of the paper was a large red heart, inside of which was written Renee & Jamie. Beneath this, written in Renee's handwriting, was the following:

Jamie, your kiss is like the sweetest fire.

Down by the old mill pond, I led you through the whispering wind, and when our lips met, I begged God to never let this night end. And as we kissed and kissed some more, soul kisses, I knew that I loved you more than anything else in this world. Jamie and Renee—forever and ever!

2

It wasn't quite clear to Rachel whether the note had been intended as a kind of love letter to Jamie, or whether it was more similar to an entry in a diary. Not that it mattered. As soon as she had recovered her composure, Rachel phoned Melissa and told her to bring Renee with her and arrive at the house for a six o'clock meeting. She was not to bring Dave—he could come over some other time to move Renee's things.

Melissa was annoyed by the demanding tone of her sister's voice. "Rachel, I've made plans for this evening." Although this wasn't true, it was the excuse that Melissa always resorted to when she was trying to avoid her sister.

"Melissa, you're just going to have to bag your plans. Something extremely serious has happened."

"Listen, Rachel, we spent all last night talking about Jack, and I'm really not up for another go-around."

"This has nothing to do with Jack, Melissa. Far from it. I insist that you bring Renee here at six o'clock—no if, ands, or buts. I don't mean to sound dramatic, but her life might be in danger."

"From Jack?"

"I just told you—this has nothing to do with Jack."

"Alright," said Melissa with a sigh, "Renee and I will be there at six."

"And don't forget what I said earlier—I don't want Dave to be here."

"Why's that?" Melissa was beginning to find it difficult not to laugh. She wondered whether Rachel was going to accuse Dave of threatening Renee's life.

"Because I said so, Melissa."

"OK—I don't think he would really want to come anyway."

"Good—because what we're going to talk about is something that needs to be kept between ourselves for the rest of our lives."

3

When Melissa and Renee arrived, they found Jack, Rachel, and Jamie in the TV room. Jamie was sitting on the couch, but when Renee had started to sit down next to him, her mother literally leaped out of her stuffed chair, grabbed Renee by the arm, and forcibly led her over to another stuffed chair. "You can sit here, young lady."

Meanwhile, Melissa couldn't help but notice Jack, who had just posted bail. He was perspiring profusely and mopping his brow with a handkerchief—probably, thought Melissa, he was petrified about the nasty grilling that he was about to receive from the members of his family. Melissa wondered what excuse he was going to come up with for groping the thirteen patients. And as for those photos! The one good thing about being in the room with him tonight was that he wasn't peering at her with those ugly owl eyes of his and seemed to be averting his gaze from everyone.

Once Renee was seated, Rachel said, "I've called you all here to discuss something terrible, something that's absolutely horrific, something that I only discovered today." Without further ado, Rachel handed a duplicate copy of the note that she had found in Renee's night table to everyone in the room. Interesting reading!

Stunned silence is an overworked expression, but it was entirely appropriate here. Melissa was so shocked by the note that she had to read it three times before she fully understood what it meant. Could it really be true? Had Renee actually written such a thing?

It was Jack who spoke first. "Of all the things—lately, everyone's been calling me a sex offender, and now I read something like this." He looked at Renee and said, "Did you really write this?"

"So what if I did? I don't think you're anyone to talk. Besides," said Renee, as she turned towards her mother, "who gave you permission to search through my things?"

"Who gave me permission to search through my child's things? This is my house, and while you're living in my house, I reserve the right to monitor your behavior."

"I'm glad you did," said Jack. "This is really disgusting. What do you have to say for yourself, Jamie? It sounds like you've been molesting your sister."

Jamie was still staring at the note. Instead of answering his father, he put both hands over his face and appeared to be crying.

"That's what I have for a son," said Jack. "I'd call you a stupid little baby except that it appears you've been doing some very grown-up things with your sister. So listen to me you two and answer my questions. Did Jamie molest you, Renee? Is that why he's crying? Or did you lead him on? With the clothes you wear, it wouldn't surprise me. And to think that I was the one who was arrested!"

Neither Jamie nor Renee said anything. Finally, in the midst of this awkward silence, Rachel said, "What I want to know--and I expect an honest answer from both of you—is how far did the two of you go?"

Melissa thought this was too intrusive. "Really, Rachel, I don't think that question is necessary."

"Well, I do, and I'm their mother. How far did you allow him to go, Renee? I assume that you let him fondle you, but what I really want to know is whether it went further than that."

"Mother," said Renee, in a testy voice, "it was just a few kisses—that's all."

"Jamie," said Rachel, "stop hiding behind your tears—it's a little late for that. How far, exactly, did you go with Renee? She says it was just a few kisses, but I'm not stupid—I know what a soul kiss is."

"How would you know that, mother?" said Renee.

"That's none of your business, Renee."

"So what's a soul kiss?" said Jack.

"It's a French kiss," said Rachel.

"These two were French kissing?"

"Tell your father the truth," said Rachel to Renee. "Are you going to deny what you wrote? Weren't you and Jamie French kissing?"

"This is really mean spirited," said Renee. "I don't want to be here anymore." She stood up and started to walk out of the room, but Rachel, who despite all appearances was actually quite strong, grabbed Renee by the arm, yanked her back towards her seat, and pushed her into it.

"Rachel!" said Melissa. "That's quite enough."

"Why don't you just be quiet, Melissa? How would you like it if you found out that Andy and Ashley were French kissing?"

"I understand, Rachel—you're upset and that's understandable, but—"

"But nothing—I haven't got much more to say, and once I'm done, you can take Renee back to your house."

4

Turning towards Renee, Rachel said, "But before you go, you're going to have to listen to what your father and I have to say because—"

"You and him," said Renee, as she pointed at Jack, "are not my parents."

"Yes we are," said Jack, who seemed to be puzzled by this assertion of Renee's.

"No, you're not."

"What is she talking about?" said Jack. Turning to Renee. he said, "I would think that if you're French kissing your brother, you would at least be willing to admit who your parents are."

"Melissa told her," said Rachel.

"Told her what?"

"Melissa told Renee that she and Jamie were adopted."

Jack whirled around and glared at Melissa. At long last, he had, at least in his own mind, seized the moral high ground in their relationship. "Why would you tell Renee that—especially when it's not true?"

"Jack," said Rachel, "they know."

"So why did you tell her, Melissa?"

Trapped, Melissa didn't know what to say because the truth—that he had been leering at photos of his daughter--didn't seem like a wise choice. "I apologize, Jack--it was just a mistake."

"A mistake? And I suppose that when other people make mistakes, you forgive them as if nothing had happened?"

"It depends on what the mistake is."

"And who decides that?" said Jack. "I can't think of a much bigger mistake than interfering with a parent's right to keep their kids' adoption a secret."

"I'm sorry, Jack."

"You're sorry? Great! Unfortunately, there's no way that you can pay me back for that one. It's not like we can give these two French-kissing brats of mine a pill that will make them forget everything. Now that they know about the adoptions, there's no fixing what you've done—you ought to be ashamed of yourself."

Melissa was on the verge of losing her temper. The only thing holding her back was that she felt physically afraid of Jack—even here, even with other people around.

Rachel unwittingly intervened. "So," she said to Renee, "I hope you took precautions."

"Listen" said Jamie, who had, by now, wiped the tears off his face. "It wasn't like that at all—yes, Renee and I kissed a couple of times, but afterwards, we realized that it was a mistake."

"Are you saying," said Rachel, "that you didn't fondle her?"

"No, I didn't fondle her."

"And I'm supposed to believe that? How do you explain the French kisses?"

"It was...we were down by the pond and just playing around. It wasn't meant in a serious way at all."

"Then how do you explain this?" said Rachel, as she waved the note dramatically in the air. "Maybe those kisses didn't mean anything to you, but they certainly meant something to Renee."

In a pleading tone, Renee said, "Mother, it was Jamie who said that we had to stop—he was the one who pulled away and said that we couldn't ever kiss again."

"It's just one lie after another," said Rachel. "You must think I'm completely stupid when you say something like that because there's never been a man in history who's pulled back from a woman once he's started to kiss her. So just answer this one question, Renee: Did you take precautions?"

"Mother, there was no need to."

"That means I'm supposed to believe that you couldn't be pregnant?"

"No, mother, I am not pregnant."

"You're sure?"

"I'm one thousand percent positive."

Rachel stared at Renee for some seconds before she said, "I don't know whether to believe you or not—what would you have said yesterday if I had asked you whether you and Jamie were French kissing?"

Renee looked down at her hands and sighed.

"And here's something else I want you two to think about," said Rachel. "Whether or not you realize it, incest is a crime, a serious crime. And like most states, Pennsylvania does not differentiate between the natural children of parents or adopted children. It also does not matter whether the incest was consensual, which certainly seems to apply in your case. It's still a crime! And both of you are equally culpable under the law. I could and probably should call the authorities, and then you'd probably be charged with a felony and arrested. How would you like that?"

"For kissing?" said Renee.

"I think, despite all your denials, that it went a little further than that, Renee. I don't know at what exact point the law considers that you went across the line, but I'm sure you must have crossed it. We're in polite company here, so I won't say exactly how far I think it went, but I think it went a long ways. If you didn't actually proceed to the final step, it's obvious to me that you may have become inadvertently pregnant."

"Inadvertently pregnant?" said Renee. "I don't even understand what that means."

"Of course you don't—that's the whole problem, and my question to you is how you can be so sure that you're not pregnant."

"Mother—"

"Rachel, you're right about all of this," said Jack. "When I was young, a cousin of mine was caught fooling around with his sister. At first, they both denied it, but then five months later, somebody started to show up with a nasty bulge around their waistline."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," said Rachel.

"I really don't think Renee is pregnant," said Melissa.

"How could you possibly know that?" asked Rachel.

"Why is it that I'm the one facing charges?" asked Jack. "All I did was look cross-eyed at a couple of women, and the next thing you know, people are calling me Jack the Ripper. Meanwhile, my two kids are running around here with their clothes off. Where did it happen? In Renee's bedroom?"

"No," said Rachel, "according to Renee's love letter, it apparently took place at the old mill pond."

"In all my life, this is the most disgusting thing that I have ever heard," said Jack. "Maybe it's a good thing that I'm not their real father—who wants to be known as the guy who brought these two into the world?"

"I'm just totally ashamed of them," said Rachel.

"With the way things are going nowadays," said Jack, "I'm surprised that Obama hasn't repealed the incest laws."

5

"Let's get down to brass tacks," said Rachel. "The question is this: What are we going to do about Renee and Jamie and all their secret meetings where the French kisses were exchanged?"

"In the old days," said Jack, "they would have been burned at the stake or at least had their heads chopped off." From the tone of his voice, it appeared that he meant this to be taken as a joke.

"I don't understand what the problem is," said Melissa. "Now that Renee is staying with us, it—"

"Renee is staying with you?" said Jack. "What for?"

After a brief silence, Rachel said, "We thought it might be best for everyone if Renee stayed with her cousins for a while."

"But," said Jack, "I thought you only found out about the French kissing this afternoon."

"I had my suspicions," said Rachel, "so I took the sensible precaution of separating the two of them. However, now that I've found this note, I realize that the problem is much more serious than I could possibly have imagined."

"That's the trouble," said Jack. "Nowadays, kids are always one step ahead of you. Next thing we'll hear is that Jamie is climbing up a ladder and trying to get into Renee's bedroom at the Harrington's."

"It wouldn't require anything that dramatic," said Rachel. "All that would have to happen is for one of them to phone the other, and then they could arrange to meet at the old mill pond."

"My little French kissers," said Jack. "And to think that I used to be so proud of them. What am I supposed to say now if someone asks me how my kids are doing? 'Thanks for asking—at the present time, they're French kissing in my daughter's bedroom.'"

"So," said Rachel, "although Renee doesn't like to hear the word precaution, I think the adults need to take some—and that includes you, Melissa."

By now, Melissa was wondering if she had stepped into a mental asylum. Although she felt it was wrong for Jamie and Renee to have a romantic relationship, it didn't seem to amount to much when it was compared to the nonsense that their parents were spewing out.

"Melissa, did you hear me?"

"What kind of precautions, Rachel?"

"First of all, we need to make absolutely certain that Renee and Jamie have no contact with each other. Period—end of discussion. No little love letters tucked into the mailbox, no phone calls, no e-mails, no 'chance' meetings at the mall, no moonlight drives down to the old mill pond, no participation at family get-togethers--except maybe next Christmas, provided that Jamie sits at one end of the table and Renee at the other."

"That seems a little extreme," said Melissa.

"Extreme? We didn't exactly nip this one in the bud, Melissa—in fact, I'd say it's fully blossomed, and I'm just praying that the blossoms don't produce any fruit. By the way, Jamie, I forgot to ask you. Do you have any condoms in your room?"

"Rachel!" said Melissa.

"I have a right to know, and after you leave here, Melissa, I will be searching his room."

"Let's hope you don't find a used one," said Jack.

"The point is," said Rachel, "that condoms show intent. I'll also be able to tell by the number of condoms left in the package not only how far he went with Renee but also, how often he went there. That's probably what Renee meant when she said that they were taking precautions."

"I never said we were taking precautions," said Renee.

"Well, you should have been. So, Jamie, do you have any condoms in your room? Don't lie to me because, like it or not, your father and I are going to search your room."

"It isn't really any of your business," said Jaime.

"It most certainly is my business, young man. Now, for the last time, do you have any condoms in your room? I'm not going to put up with any more of this nonsense from you and Renee—I take it, since you're so reluctant to reply, that you do have condoms in your room. Is that correct?"

"Yes, mother," said Jaime in a flat tone, "as a matter of fact, I do."

"And is the package unopened, or have you opened it?"

"It's been opened, but—"

"But! And how many condoms were in the package when you bought it?"

"I think it was twelve."

"And how many are in there now?"

"Five or six."

Rachel let out a gasp and said, "Oh my God."

"Listen," said Jaime, "these condoms had nothing to do with Renee. I had them because of someone else that I was dating a while ago."

"And," said Rachel, "I suppose you're telling me that you used all these things on this other woman?"

Since Jamie didn't reply to his mother's question, Rachel said, "So who did you use the condoms on, Jamie? Renee or the other woman? Or both?"

"It wasn't—all Renee and I did was kiss a couple of times."

"So these were all used on the other woman?"

"Yes, they were."

"You actually expect me to believe that every single one of these missing condoms was used on this mysterious woman? What was her name?"

"You expect me to tell you something like that?"

"I certainly do."

"You have no right to ask me that, and I'll never tell you—go call the police if it makes you feel better."

Rachel gave her son a long and steely look. "I'm always suspicious when people try to deny something by becoming angry. I think we all have to face the fact that Renee and Jamie went a lot further than a few French kisses down by the pond."

6

"Do you think we could wrap this up?" said Melissa. "Dave is expecting me to be home shortly."

"It won't be much longer," said Rachel. "but there are some things that we need to consider. Although I don't, of course, have any experience with condoms, I know that they can break or burst, so the first thing we have to do is give Renee a pregnancy test."

"No way," said Renee.

"What is the matter with you?" said Jack. "It's not like we're going to yank out one of your teeth. It's just a simple little test, and if you're the virgin that you like to pretend to be, there won't be a problem."

"Exactly," said Rachel. "So I'll give you the money, Melissa, and you can buy the test—but watch out for Renee. If she is pregnant, she'll probably try to fake the test somehow. Then, regardless of the results of the pregnancy test, we'll have to devise a method that will keep these two apart. Promises don't mean a thing to them, so there's no hope there."

"Rachel," said Melissa, "I'm sure if Jamie and Renee assured us that they would obey your wishes, then that would be enough."

"Can you believe this, Jack?" said Rachel.

"I know what you mean," he said. "I wouldn't trust our little French kissers as far as I could throw them."

"This is really becoming kind of offensive," said Melissa.

"You're a fine one to talk," said Jack. "You do realize what's going to happen now that these two kids of mine know that they've been adopted."

"No idea," said Melissa.

"I would assume," said Jack, "that back before you went and spilled the beans, Jamie and Renee must have felt some guilt about what they were doing, but now there's absolutely nothing to hold them back."

"I never thought of that," said Rachel. "Which means that, no matter what, we really do have to keep them apart, so I am laying down the law right now, and I expect it to be followed to the letter because if it isn't, there will be consequences, serious consequences."

"If I were you," said Jack to Renee and Jamie, "I would listen to your mother because when she talks this way, she really does mean business."

Rachel was sitting ramrod style in her chair, and she expanded her lungs fully before she set to work on the thorny task of trying to discipline her two lust-crazed teenagers. "Jamie and Renee—I insist that you have no contact with each other. That means zero contact. I hope I don't have to explain to you what zero means. Zero means no contact at all. That includes letters and e-mails. That includes everything. If one of you is at the mall and sees the other coming, you are to turn around and walk away. I don't care if each of you is in a group of ten people—you are to immediately walk away. I've tried to be lenient with you two, but's it's now blatantly obvious that zero tolerance is the only thing that is going to work."

"Personally," said Jack, "I'd prefer it if Jaime was the one who was sent away."

"I'm sorry," said Rachel, "but that's not possible. I trust that you're on board with this, Melissa, because a chain is only as strong as its weakest link—not that I'm saying you're a weak link, at least I hope you're not."

"Yes, Rachel, I understand what you're saying."

"I know this is inconvenient for you, but you are my sister, and I don't think it's too much to ask for your help. What this means is that you are going to have to closely monitor Renee's behavior. Don't worry about the money—before you leave here tonight, Jack will write you out a check that should more than cover the expenses that Renee is likely to incur."

"That would be helpful."

"I'm sure it will, but I do expect some return on the money that we give you, so I trust that you don't plan on leaving Renee to her own devices. Hopefully, she'll find a decent male friend because I think that's what she needs. This is just so absurd—there must be a hundred young men in this town who would love to be Renee's friend and would be quite suitable for her, but instead, she's developed this perverted obsession with her brother."

"And I'm the one who got arrested!" said Jack, for the third time.

"I would," said Rachel to Melissa, "be particularly careful not to let Renee onto the computer unless you're positive that she isn't using it to subvert my wishes. Both Jamie and Renee have told me that they have e-mail accounts, so you can see that's a potential problem. I can tell you one thing for sure—Renee will not be taking her computer from here, and Jamie has, as of right now, lost the rights to his computer."

"Good," said Jack, "I can use another one down in the basement."

"You might as well take Renee's computer while you're at it," said Rachel. She left her chair and went to a spot in the room where she could alternately fix her eyes on Jamie and Renee as she unleashed her final barrage. "Alright, you two—I'm done with all the soft talk and sugar pills because I know it isn't effective with children like you. I talked earlier about serious consequences, and I'm going to tell you exactly what they are. I'm hoping that if you're not attracted to the carrot, you'll at least tremble before the stick. Believe it or not, it's only for your own good that I'm telling you how to behave because if you think incest is somehow fashionable or chic, you're living in a complete fantasy world.

"So I'm giving you fair warning: If either one of you attempts to violate the laws that I have laid down for you, I will call the police and have you arrested immediately. Maybe you're operating under the assumption that I wouldn't go so far as to call the authorities, but I assure you that I will, so if you decide to test me, you will definitely be the ones to suffer. And let me remind you that I won't be wasting my precious time on trying to determine who initiated the contact—I will simply have both of you locked up. At least, in prison, you won't be able to do what you did here. Condoms on your sister! If there's anything more disgusting than that, I've yet to hear it."

"Can Renee and I leave now?" said Melissa.

"Yes, you may—please take Renee and go out into the kitchen and wait for Jack to write you the check that I was talking about."

As Renee crossed the room towards the kitchen, Rachel moved in such a way that it was impossible for Renee and Jamie to make eye contact.

## CHAPTER TWELVE: "THEY'RE JUST SUCH SWEET AND BEAUTIFUL KIDS."

1

On the ride back from the Hasting's house, Renee was quiet and morose. "Renee," said Melissa, "I know—"

With this, Renee turned away from Melissa and burst into tears, and for the rest of the ride, Melissa could barely hear Renee who, through her tears, would occasionally say something but only as if she were talking to herself. "I never meant to cause so much trouble...poor Jaime...to have to sit there and listen to those two idiots talk about how many condoms he had used...he was right, he was right all along." Suddenly, as they turned into the driveway of her house, Renee grabbed Melissa by the arm, and said, "Aunt Melissa, I don't _ever_ want to see my mother or father again."

"Look, Renee, we'll talk about it in the morning."

"It doesn't matter—there's nothing left to talk about. I never want to have anything to do with them again. Never! It won't be much of a problem with my father because they're going to throw him in prison, which is exactly where he belongs. And as for my mother—there isn't a mental institution in this world that would be able to deal with her."

They walked inside, and after Renee went upstairs to the bedroom she was sharing with Tricia, Melissa poured herself a glass of wine and sat down with Dave. She was upset, but not as upset as one might have expected because she was used to dealing with Rachel and her verbal tirades—historically, the best thing had always been to let her vent. Melissa wondered, however, whether she had been too passive this time since Rachel's treatment of Jaime and Renee had clearly bordered on the abusive. Looking back on it, she realized that she had been caught off guard and put on the defensive after reading Renee's love note because her first reaction was to side with Rachel—what parent wouldn't be angry if they found two of their children were engaged in an incestuous relationship? And then, making her even more defensive, was Jack's discovery that she had divulged the adoptions to Renee. But now, in the safety of her own home, Melissa's feelings were beginning to swing back and forth—was it really so wrong for Jaime and Renee to be in love with each other? Or was she just so annoyed with Rachel and Jack that she was beginning, out of spite, to take the other side?

2

After explaining to Dave how Renee's love note had been discovered, she gave him her copy of the note. As he read it, he whistled softly under his breath and said, "I never saw this one coming."

"Neither did I. So what do you think about Renee and Jaime having this kind of relationship?"

Dave read the note one more time. "It sounds to me like they're in love—or at least Renee is."

"Obviously, but that's not my question. What would you do, Dave, if you were their father?"

"Get out of the way," he said, with a laugh.

"Get out of the way?"

"It's always a thankless task to stand in the way of love. Remember what your father used to say about me? It was at least a decade before he and I could have a civil conversation with each other."

"But doesn't it make you uncomfortable to see Jamie and Renee in a relationship? After all, they were brought up as a brother and sister."

"But they aren't really related to each other," said Dave. "They've just been called a brother and sister, so since they're not related by blood, I don't see what's wrong with them having a relationship."

"Maybe so" said Melissa, "but the problem is that no one is going to accept it."

"Your father didn't accept me for ten years."

"Yes, I know that, but this is different."

"Melissa, the real question is whether this relationship between Jamie and Renee is right or wrong—morally. I'd say, for instance, that making a woman pregnant and then telling her that you don't want to marry her and that she should have an abortion is morally wrong. You won't go to hell, but it's not right."

"So you really don't think, even though everyone would be against it, that there's anything wrong with Jamie and Renee having a romantic relationship?"

"No, I don't."

"I suppose...but..."

"You're still thinking of them as a brother and sister, Melissa. But they're not—they're just two strangers who were thrown together."

"OK, Dave, but that's certainly not the way Rachel feels about it. She's threatening to have Renee and Jamie thrown into prison if she ever catches them together again."

"They're not allowed to see each other?"

"It's a little worse than that--Rachel also told them that they are not to write or e-mail each other."

"That's totally absurd."

"You don't know the half of it. Rachel went on this weird rant that—"

"Was Jack there?"

"Yes, he was, and all he did was egg Rachel on. He was probably afraid that she was about to turn on him."

"So what did Rachel say?"

"She kept assuming that Renee and Jamie had taken it to the limit, and—"

"You don't think they did?"

"No—from everything that Renee said, I think it's very unlikely, but Rachel kept asking her again and again whether she had taken any precautions. Then, when she was finally finished with Renee, she turned on Jamie and wanted to know whether he had any condoms in his room."

"She asked him that?" said Dave, in amazement.

"She actually told him that she was going to search his room if he didn't tell her."

"And what did Jamie say?"

"The poor kid! He tried to evade the question, but Rachel kept harping on it, and Jamie finally admitted that there was a package of condoms in his room. You're not going to believe the next part, Dave, but I swear it's the truth."

"With Rachel, almost anything is possible."

"The first thing she asked Jamie was how many condoms were left in the package. I guess it was a twelve pack, and he said there were about a half dozen left. Rachel, of course, flew into one of her rages. She kept asking Jamie if he had used them on Renee—her words, Dave, not mine. And when Jamie told her that he had bought them because of some woman he had been going out with a while ago, Rachel wanted to know who the woman was and whether all the condoms had been used on her. Who would ever use the word 'on' in that kind of context? Anyways, Jamie finally told her that it was none of her business because, naturally, he was trying to protect the woman."

Dave had always thought that Rachel was off her rocker. "It's lucky he didn't tell Rachel who it was because she'd have probably called her on the phone and asked her how many times Jamie had used the condoms on her."

"And God help Jamie if the numbers didn't match up. I'm telling you, Dave, this conversation at the Hasting's house was straight out of the twilight zone. Jack even chimed in and said that when they searched Jamie's room, he hoped they wouldn't find any used condoms."

"I can't believe that I used to have some respect for that guy—it just goes to show that I'm not a very good judge of character."

"The thing that really got to me was Jamie's reaction when he read Renee's love note."

"He hadn't read it before?"

"No, I think it was just Renee writing to herself—you know, the kind of thing that a kid might do when they suddenly develop a crush on someone. But when Jamie read it, he put his hands over his face and started to cry."

Dave reread the note. "I can see where he might—it's...I don't know...so sentimental."

"Romantic is the word I would use."

"Very."

"There was something so touching about Jamie's tears—and Renee's too, as we were driving home. They're just such sweet and beautiful kids, Dave. I would have expected Jamie to become belligerent, but he was actually kind of meek and withdrawn--I think he realized that there was nothing he could do but weather the storm."

"And Renee was the same way?"

"She was more feisty, but not all that much. If my mother had ever gone through my room, found something I wrote, and laid Rachel's trip on me, there would have been blood on the battlefield."

"So what's going to happen next?" asked Dave.

3

"I think the biggest question is where to put Renee."

"You don't think she'll be happy in Tricia's room?" said Dave.

"Not likely--you know how Miss Tricia is."

"What about—suppose we have Ashley and Tricia switch bedrooms? Then Renee and Ashley could share a room together—I think those two would get along much better than Tricia and Renee."

"OK, I'll talk to them about it, but the real problem is that Renee could be here for a long time—I doubt that she'll ever be able to move back to her house."

"Even if Jack goes to prison?"

"Not unless Jamie moves out—remember, Rachel isn't going to let them anywhere near each other."

"What is the matter with that woman?" said Dave. "And so--this is nothing against Renee, but why should we have to take care of her?"

"Rachel's going to give us plenty of money, Dave."

"That's not what I'm worried about—it just seems crazy that because Rachel is having one of her breakdowns, Ashley can no longer have her own bedroom."

"I totally agree with you, but I don't see what the alternative is because Renee has nowhere else to go, and I don't feel at all comfortable about her living in the same house as Jack--if anything happened to her, I could never forgive myself."

"I see your point about that—I certainly wouldn't want Ashley to be around him."

"The other thing we're going to have to do is keep Renee and Jaime apart because I think Rachel would really try to throw them in prison if she ever caught them together."

"She's bluffing--I can't believe she'd do that."

"Dave, if you'd heard her tonight, you wouldn't have thought she was bluffing."

"But she couldn't have them arrested just because they were talking to each other or something—that's like Russia in 1935."

"No. of course not, but if Rachel wanted to, she could use the love note against them, and although Jamie and Renee might not end up in prison, the state of Pennsylvania could make their lives really unpleasant."

"Let's see if we can find that law on the internet," said Dave. They went over to their computer and Googled up the incest law for the state of Pennsylvania. When they found it, they couldn't tell whether it applied to Jamie and Renee, but it appeared that it might. This is how the statute read: A person is guilty of incest, a felony of the second degree, if that person knowingly marries or cohabits or has sexual intercourse with an ancestor or descendant, a brother or sister of the whole or half blood or an uncle, aunt, nephew or niece of the whole blood. The relationships referred to in this section include blood relationships without regard to legitimacy, and relationship of parent and child by adoption.

"It sounds to me," said Dave, "that they're talking about preventing a father from having a sexual relationship with his adopted daughter."

"And not a sibling relationship?"

"Right, but let's look some more." Eventually, after examining the laws of other states, they came to the reluctant conclusion that the Pennsylvania law did apply to adopted siblings. "But look at this paragraph," said Melissa, in an excited voice. "According to what it says here, the law prohibiting sexual contact between siblings becomes void if the adopting parents divorce."

"That's interesting," said Dave.

4

The next day, at lunchtime, Melissa talked to Renee. She continued to seem downcast and not at all like her usual self. "Renee, we need to talk about your situation a little bit, but I don't want you to feel that I'm judging you because I'm not."

"OK, Aunt Melissa. I know this is difficult for you—it must be driving your family crazy to have me living here."

"We'll manage, Renee—I'm more worried about you than anyone else."

"I don't know what to do, Aunt Melissa. Obviously, I can't live at home, and I certainly don't want to impose on you."

"Renee, don't worry about whether you're imposing on us—that's what families are for."

"But this is all my fault."

Melissa could see that Renee was on the verge of tears. "Renee, you must be forgetting about the original reason you were sent over here."

"You mean my father?"

"Yes."

"But that was just going to be until he went to prison. Now, I can never go home again, or if I do, Jamie can't be there. It's like my whole life has fallen apart."

"Renee, this is going to have to be your home for a while, and so we're going to have to make the best of it."

"I just don't have any money or job or anything, and it's like my parents have totally cast me out and don't care whether I live or die." Now, the tears began to fall—Renee tried to cover them up by putting her head down on her arms, which were lying on the table.

"OK, Renee," said Melissa softly, "since your mother has abandoned you, I'll have to take her place."

"No, no, no." With tears streaming down her face, Renee looked at Melissa and said, "You don't have to do that--besides, it's too late for me to have a mother."

"Here—come to me, Renee. Don't say that—it's never too late to have a mother." Melissa held out her arms and Renee came to her for a long and emotional hug. "Renee, everything will be alright," said Melissa, in a gentle voice as she felt Renee's tears fall onto her blouse.

"No, I don't think so—I went way too far this time."

Eventually, when Renee sat down again, she had stopped crying, but only barely. "Aunt Melissa, I did something that was really wrong, and now everybody is suffering because of it. If only I had listened to Jaime—he kept trying to tell me that it wasn't a good idea, and I just ignored him and made fun of him."

"It would help me a little bit if I knew something about you and Jaime...about...I'm not trying to pry, Renee."

"What do you want to know?"

"I guess, from what you said last night, that your relationship with Jaime was...it was innocent, wasn't it?"

"All we did was kiss a couple of times. I swear to God that's all that happened, Aunt Melissa. And the thing is that...I just want to say again that none of this was Jaime's fault."

"You were the one who..."

"Yes, and all along, Jaime was like 'No, we shouldn't,' but I just got carried away and couldn't stop myself."

"But eventually, he went along with you?"

"I guess so, but if anybody tries to blame him...I don't know what I'll do, but it won't be anything good."

"So I guess we don't have to go through with the pregnancy test?" said Melissa, in a lighthearted tone.

Renee managed a small laugh. "I'm kind of naïve, Aunt Melissa. Don't you have to have sex with a man to become pregnant?"

Melissa knew she was joking. "That's the general rumor," she said.

"Then I'm not pregnant, Aunt Melissa."

5

Melissa looked at Renee for a few moments and said, "I take it that before all this happened, you and Jaime were close."

"Oh yes, Jaime and I have always been close."

"Like pals?"

"Yes, I guess you could say that."

"But you both had boyfriends and girlfriends--right?"

"Sure—quite a few of them."

"So what happened? What changed?"

"I don't know, Aunt Melissa. I think when it started both of us had just broken up with someone, and we just began to spend more time with each other. Plus, there were all the e-mails Jamie and I sent to each other--when I look back on it, I think I started falling in love with him around the time that we started to e-mail each other."

"So you were in love?" said Melissa, with a kind smile.

"I know I shouldn't say it, Aunt Melissa, but I was in love with Jaime—really, truly, and deeply in love with him."

Melissa was confused by the past tense. "But you're not now?"

"I can't be—it's just way too dangerous. I don't want anything to happen to Jaime—I'm really scared that he might try and contact me. It's not that I'm afraid of going to jail—it's just that I don't want him to suffer anymore because of me." Renee began to cry again, and after wiping her eyes with a napkin, she said, "I'm afraid that I've ruined his life, Aunt Melissa."

"So you don't want to see him, at least right now?"

"God no!" said Renee emphatically. "And please, if you see him just tell him that I'm happy and doing alright. But no—don't worry, I'm not going to try to e-mail him or anything. You can bring out the Bible and I'll swear on it if you want me to."

"There's no need, Renee—I believe you."

"I wouldn't lie to you, Aunt Melissa—outside of Jasmine, you're the only person who still loves me."

"What about Jamie?"

"I wouldn't think so—not after what I've done to him."

## CHAPTER THIRTEEN: NOT A RENEE-APPROVED AGREEMENT

1

Unlike Renee, Jamie was faring rather well. The day after the fiasco at his parent's house, he had gone over to Tommy's and told him that he had fought with his mother. Since he wasn't about to explain to Tommy what had brought about the fight, Jamie made up a story that was actually fairly close to the truth.

"What happened?" asked Tommy.

"Believe it or not, my mother went into my room and searched for condoms."

"You're kidding—and she found some?"

"She didn't actually go into my room—what happened was that she was nagging me about Doreen Kiley and told me that she was going to search my room for condoms."

"But you don't go out with Doreen anymore."

"True, but I never told her we broke up. My mother's always had this weird thing about Doreen, like she's some wicked woman who's out to ruin my life. Anyways, I had this e-mail to Renee up on my computer that I didn't want my mother to read because it was about...I just couldn't afford to have her and my father read it."

"She was threatening to check your computer too?"

"She's done that a couple of times in the past, so when she asked me about the condoms, the only way I could see to keep her out of my room was to admit that I had a package of them."

"And what did she say to that?"

"She wanted to know how many I had used."

Tommy burst out laughing. "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Your mother is a real animal, Jaime—I knew she was bad, but this is like totally pathetic. So how many had you used?"

"About half the package. She also kept asking me if I had used them on Doreen."

"She didn't actually say 'on Doreen,' did she?"

"Those were her exact words, Tommy."

Tommy started to laugh again. "'On' isn't so bad when you stop and think about it. So, after this great revelation, what happened next?"

"My mother went crazy and was waving her arms around like a lunatic. Not only that, my father was there and wanted to know if there were any used condoms in my room."

Tommy was now laughing so hard that he was trying to catch his breath. "Jamie, I hope you were a pro and hid those trophies in an old sock."

"The condom police got me, Tommy, and now they've put me on probation. I can't use my computer anymore, I'm grounded except for school, and I can't watch TV."

"So how come you're here? What did you do--sneak out of the house?"

"No, I told my mother that I had to go to the public library to do a research project."

"Have you ever been there, Jamie?"

"Actually, I don't even know where it is."

"Jaime, I can't believe this is happening to you—it's like something out of the Dark Ages. You should just split from your house and stay here for a while."

"I could do that?"

"It won't be a problem—let me talk to my folks."

2

Tommy Pearson lived in a large house that had an empty bedroom, and Tommy's parents told him that he could sleep there whenever he wanted. They knew all about Jack's problems and were sympathetic to Jamie, and they had also heard, from Tommy, an enhanced version about the recent confrontation at the Hasting's house—what Tommy told them was that after Jaime's parents had searched his room and found some condoms, they had demanded to know who his sexual partner was and that when he had refused to give them her name, his mother had told him to leave the house until he was ready to tell them who it was.

Hank and Mary Pearson, Tommy's parents, were appalled by what their son had told them. Later, when they were having coffee at the kitchen table with Tommy and Jaime on a Saturday morning, Mary said, "I was just the opposite from your mother, Jaime. When Tom's oldest brother was living here, I felt like going into his room to search for condoms too—only I was hoping that I would find them!"

Hank looked at Jaime and said, "We were always afraid that he was going to get someone pregnant, and back then, he wasn't anywhere near mature enough to be a father."

"But you didn't actually search his room, did you?" said Tommy, in a slightly worried tone.

"No, of course not," said Mary. "Those are the kind of things that a parent just has to pray about."

Hank looked at Jaime and said, "What's the situation with your father?"

"Not so good—even my mother is beginning to have doubts about him."

"And you?" said Mary to Jaime.

Jaime tried to be diplomatic but didn't quite succeed in maintaining his neutrality. "I don't really know the truth because, of course, I wasn't there when all these bad things supposedly happened. But when thirteen women accuse you of something, I'm inclined to doubt him."

"He's maintaining that he's innocent?" asked Mary.

"Yes, but I don't think it means much."

"Jamie," said Hank, "you're welcome to use the extra bedroom for a while. It's not a problem to us—you and Tommy have been friends for years, so we trust you. I can't imagine that you'd be very happy at home."

"I appreciate the offer," Mr. Pearson.

"About the only rule we have," said Mary, "is no drugs inside the house."

"Mom," said Tommy with a laugh, "Jaime won't even touch a beer, and his idea of drugs is a vanilla ice cream cone."

"Good," said Mary, "maybe you can learn something from him."

3

At first, Jaime had been hesitant to make use of the Pearson's hospitality, but when he saw that their offer was genuine, he began staying there almost every night. His mother wanted to know where he was sleeping, but he was so furious at what she had done to him and Renee that he refused to tell her anything. "Just at some friends," he would tell her. "I'll be back when this whole thing with Dad is settled." Rachel had attempted to argue with him about it, but he had just turned his back on her and left without saying another word. Now that he was eighteen, Jamie knew that there was nothing his mother could do to stop him.

Because he now needed money, Jamie found a part-time job at Walmart's—ten dollars an hour for fifteen hours a week. Since he wasn't paying rent and received many free meals at the Pearson's, he was actually saving some money. It was also lucky for him that his father had paid off the car on the day that they bought it.

Although his job as a shelf stocker was boring, Jamie had begun to take notice of Stacey Jameson, who worked in his department as an assistant supervisor. Only a year older than Jamie, she had just finished her freshman year at college and was one of those women who immediately attracted attention. Stacey had long straight blond hair, beautiful blue eyes, and wore tight, sexy clothes that accentuated her figure.

About two weeks after he had begun working at Walmart's, Jamie was in the break room drinking coffee when Stacey walked over to where he was sitting. "All alone?" she said, with a pleasant smile. "Mind if I sit here?"

"Be my guest," said Jamie.

Stacey sat down across from him and said, "Isn't it amazing how many times we've run into each other here in the store? I'll be just walking along, and suddenly, I'll have this impulse to turn down an aisle, and there you are! Don't you think it's strange?"

It had happened so often that Jamie had begun to wonder if it was more than a coincidence. "It is a little weird," he said.

"So what do you think of this place, Jamie?"

"It's OK."

Stacey laughed as if Jamie had just said something funny. Pointing to her nametag, which noted that she was an assistant supervisor, she said, in a kind of dramatic whisper, "Don't worry, Jamie--I'm not like a real supervisor, so you don't have to worry about what you say. The nametag is strictly for show."

"That's good to know," he said, in a friendly way.

"I'm just working here to help me get through college—it's basically a nowhere job, but I need the money. How about you?"

"Well..." Jamie wanted to impress her, so he shaded over his current circumstances. "Actually, I just graduated from high school in June, and now I'm floating around for a while." Granted, that wasn't very impressive, but it was better than telling Stacey that he was sleeping at his friend's house while he avoided his mother, who was accusing him of incest.

"So this is like your spending money?"

"I guess you could say that."

Stacey's cell phone rang, and Jamie heard her say, "OK—I'll be right there." She stood up, put the phone into her pocket, and said, "Sorry, Jamie, but I have to run. Some customer is freaking out about a vacuum cleaner that chewed up her rug. Placating customers--that's my main job around here."

As she left the break room, Jamie thought that Stacey was a good fit for her job. And also a good fit for her jeans.

Over the next week, Stacey found ways to talk with him that were obviously not based on coincidence, and Jamie began to understand what the expression "chatting up" meant. Although he wondered why Stacey was so interested in him, he wasn't about to turn his back on such an attractive woman. She was good natured and had a lot of sex appeal, a sex appeal that could be cool and understated but could turn red hot when she moved her body in a way that showed off her figure—like the time she had been close to him and reached up for a box that was above their heads. He hadn't forgotten that moment! Every time she was near him, he couldn't help but notice her body—talk about a turn on! And the fact that she was showing so much interest in him was also a turn on.

Before long, however, he began to feel troubled by their conversations and flirtations because he still felt attached to Renee. But...it seemed like forever since he had last seen her, and all those steamy emotions that he had experienced just before they had been separated had pretty much evaporated. Maybe, as hard as it was to admit it, their enforced separation was a good thing because, in the long run, he wasn't sure that a sexual relationship with Renee was at all practical. It frightened him to think that they had been on the verge of going all the way.

Nowadays, Jamie felt that he and Renee had just been swept away by their feelings, and he was inclined to think that their romance was a thing of the past. But there were also times when he wondered whether his lack of enthusiasm for Renee was just a result of the fact that he hadn't seen her for such a long time and had happened to run into a woman who was paying him a lot of attention. It was an unpleasant predicament for Jamie to be in--what was he supposed to do until he was allowed to see Renee? Live like a monk? He would have given anything to have been able to talk to her—he had even thought about getting in touch with Jasmine and giving her a message for Renee, but in the end, he always rejected the idea because he was afraid that his mother would find out. The risk of discovery probably wasn't that high, but the consequences could be disastrous. So, as far as Renee went, he felt that it was better to wait for something to happen—sooner or later, he would see her again. But that could take months, if not years, and what was he supposed to do in the meantime if some really hot woman like Stacey wanted to have a relationship with him? "Sorry," said Jamie to himself, with a laugh, "my ex-sister and I are just waiting to be liberated from the evil queen." That didn't cut it in the real world—not when you were eighteen and were consumed by all the demands of a powerful young lust.

"You ever go to the Dance-O-Rama?" Stacey asked him late one Friday afternoon.

"A couple of times." The Dance-O-Rama was a place where teens often went to hang out because it didn't serve liquor and survived on the five-dollar door fee, along with an exotic selection of expensive energy drinks.

"I feel like dancing tonight," said Stacey, "and it has the best music in town. Would you like to go there with me after work?"

Even though Stacey had been coming on to him, Jamie was surprised by her invitation. She _must_ have a boyfriend. How could she not? So why was she asking him out to a dancing place? "OK," he said, after a moment's hesitation.

"Do you have a car?" she said. "My boyfriend is using mine—he's gone to Pittsburgh for the weekend."

So that was the answer to the boyfriend question—even so, he wasn't averse to dancing with her. "OK—we can go in mine."

4

They arrived at the Dance-O-Rama around nine-thirty, but there was already a long line outside the door, and Stacey didn't feel like waiting, so she suggested they go to a small restaurant that was about five miles to the north of Adeline. On the drive there, Stacey began by talking about her family—she had two brothers and a sister who were all older than her and lived in the Pittsburgh area. After describing to Jamie how much she liked her two brothers, but not her sister, she said, "How about you, Jamie? What's your family like?"

"Well, I don't really get along with my parents, but I do have a sister that I'm close to."

"What's her name?"

"Renee."

"That's a pretty name—I always liked that song 'Walk Away Renee.' Do you still live at home?"

"No—I moved out a couple of months ago."

"Couldn't stand the parent figures?"

"It was more like they couldn't stand me."

"I'm lucky—when I came here to go to college, my parents didn't have much choice but to pay for my apartment."

Jamie was still nervous about revealing his true situation, so he remained silent and waited for Stacey to say something.

"So, Jamie—I know I said I had a boyfriend, but...well, I better not talk about him. How about you? What's your status? Single? Playing the field? Married? Divorced?" Stacey smiled at him and said, "I know from your job application that you're only eighteen, so if you're divorced, you're off to a really bad start."

"No, I'm not divorced, but...it's like you just said, I better not talk about it." Stacey thought that was funny and laughed.

They sat in a booth at the restaurant, and while Stacey ordered nachos, Jamie had French fries and a vanilla milkshake. "What a strange meal!" said Stacey as she looked at his fries and shake.

"I'm a vanilla addict."

"Anything else that you're addicted to?"

"No," said Jamie, "that's it."

"Really? There's not many people like that nowadays. As for me, I don't mind weed once in a while, but other than that, I don't have much interest in drugs or alcohol. All you have to do is look at the way people behave when they're under the influence—it's a big turn off for me."

Slowly, playfully, her eyes locked onto his, and he found it difficult to look away. "You have such beautiful eyes, Jamie."

He had no idea what to say. It was hard for him to figure her out—she'd already said that she had a boyfriend, but she was also saying things that didn't really fit in with that scenario. And then, beyond the words, was her body language—very enticing. They were sitting across from each other, but she would occasionally graze his leg with hers. The first time it had happened, Jamie thought it was accidental, but by the third time, he knew it meant something else. It had been over two months since he had last kissed a woman—a long time in his world--and since Stacey's boyfriend was in Pittsburgh for the weekend, he decided to go for it. "My last girlfriend also told me that I had beautiful eyes." This was to make her think that he didn't have a girlfriend, which was true enough.

"Don't you think relationships are difficult, Jamie? Somehow or other, they always end up becoming complicated."

He wanted to ask her about her boyfriend but didn't dare, so once again, he tried to say something that might please her. "I agree with you--basically, after my last relationship, I decided to play the field." At least, tonight, he was playing the field.

"Sometimes," said Stacey, "I think it's better that way—no heavy involvements, no bad scenes."

"That's me," said Jaime, with a laugh. "It doesn't matter whether it's work or love—I'm just floating along until something points me in the right direction." Even though everything he was saying was motivated by a desire to please Stacey, Jamie couldn't help but notice that he was speaking truthfully-- provided, of course, that his romance with Renee was over.

"Look, Jamie, it's still early--after we leave here, let's go back to my place. Do you mind? I'd like to talk to you some more—you're an interesting person."

5

Ten minutes later, they were sitting next to each other on a couch in Stacey's living room. Before saying much of anything, she had opened a drawer in a coffee table that was in front of the couch and removed a joint. "You don't mind, do you?" she said, just before she struck a match.

"No, I don't mind." As she took a drag on the joint, Jamie looked around—Stacey's apartment was furnished in a luxurious, upper-class way. The furniture was obviously expensive, the plush rug in the living room had a beautiful oriental pattern, and the walls were covered with old-fashioned, elegant paintings of landscapes. He wondered how much the rent was—it must be nice to have parents who would spend this much money on you.

Stacey held the joint out to him. "Would you like some?"

"No thanks."

"You've never smoked?"

"No."

"I can't remember the last time I met a person who didn't smoke weed. How come you don't?'

"No reason—I guess I've just never been around people who use it." By now, it was hard for him not to stare at Stacey's body—as the boys at the high school would have said, she was really built.

"But you're not even interested in trying it?" she asked him.

"No, I'm OK the way I am."

"It's not that you're religious or anything—right?"

"Not at all," said Jamie with an amused laugh. "I haven't been to church since I was twelve and that was only because my parents made me go."

"That's good to hear," said Stacey. "I went out once with this guy who was a Jesus freak—it wasn't until my third date with him that he started telling me how I could be saved. God, what a trip!"

"You have to get away from those people real quick," said Jaime. "Otherwise, they'll ruin your day."

"Or, in my case, a relationship was ruined. So are you planning on going to college sometime?"

"I doubt it—I've kind of been cut off by my parents, and besides, high school didn't interest me that much."

After Stacey took another hit off the joint, she said, "I'm going to summer school because I want to graduate in three years, but I'll be the first to admit that most of my classes are yawners. However, I do have one course that absolutely fascinates me."

"What's it called?"

"The History of Psychology—I'm thinking of majoring in psych, and the history course is a requirement. Anyways, the part that really interests me, which we've been studying for the last two weeks, is a theory from the nineteenth century called animal magnetism. Ever hear of it?"

She was looking at him in a placid but beautiful way—cool blue eyes and a friendly, open face.

"I guess so," said Jamie. "Isn't that like when two people are irresistibly attracted to each other?"

"Sort of—at least that's the way it's thought of nowadays." Stacey took a final hit off the joint before placing it in an ashtray that was on top of the coffee table. "Actually," she said, in a reflective way, "the theory of animal magnetism was invented by the guy who also discovered hypnotism—Mesmer was his name. Supposedly, according to him, there was a kind of energy that flowed through bodies and connected or attracted one person to another."

"So why's it called animal magnetism? What do animals have to do with it?"

"It doesn't really have anything to do with animals—Mesmer just used that word as a way to distinguish between things that breathe and things that don't breathe. And animals breathe," said Stacey, with a kind of funny rhetorical flourish.

"I guess that when I hear an expression like animal magnetism, I think of it in a sexual way. For instance, there was this woman I went out with about a year ago—her name was Doreen, and it's probably not much of an exaggeration to say that our whole relationship was based on animal magnetism."

"Haven't you ever wondered why one person is attracted to another?"

"You mean like sexually attracted?" One didn't have to be a rocket scientist to know what Jamie was thinking about.

"It doesn't have to be a sexual attraction," said Stacey, "but that's the most obvious example. Was Doreen really beautiful? Was that what attracted you?"

"I thought she was beautiful."

"But she wasn't the only beautiful woman around, was she? Why do you think you were attracted to her and not someone else?"

"I don't know—it just seemed...I think the first time we met was when we were leaving our Civics class--I happened to be next to her, and she said something to me like 'Wasn't that just the most stupid class you've ever had to sit through?'"

"It's really strange, if you think about it," said Stacey. "Some very intense relationships begin as seemingly chance encounters. But for a long time now, I've never really believed in coincidences or chance events, and I think that animal magnetism is an interesting explanation for those things--a kind of underlying cause. It's like you just said: 'I happened to be next to her.' But why were you next to her? Was it just a crazy roll of the dice, or was there some other thing that drew you and Doreen together?"

"For me, the 'some other thing' would be the way that a person looks."

"Their physical appearance?"

"Yes—I've never felt anything like that with a man."

Stacey smiled. "Yes, I know what you mean because...well, I have felt that with women, but it's almost always with men. I think that's just because...I don't know why that is, actually...maybe the feeling of sexuality increases the power of the magnetism."

"The feeling I had for Doreen was irresistible—it was like I had to be with her all the time."

"Magnetic?"

"I guess you could use that word, but it seems to me that it was all based on lust—I would never feel something like that around my mother."

"What about your sister? Is she beautiful?"

"Yes, she is."

"But you didn't have that feeling around her, did you?"

"Actually, sometimes, I did."

"Well," said Stacey, with a hearty laugh, "not many people would admit to that."

"It's different than what it sounds like because we were both adopted."

"Oh, I get it." She seemed to think about this for a few seconds. "So were you sexually attracted to her?"

"Yes, but it was different with Renee than with Doreen—more emotional than physical."

"What kind of a relationship did you have with Renee? You didn't actually kiss her or anything like that, did you?"

"No, nothing like that." Rule number one: When flirting with a woman, do not admit to any prior sexual involvement with your sister.

"So maybe," said Stacey, "it was because she was your sister that you didn't have this feeling of strong attraction towards her like you had for Doreen. Because, for most men, animal magnetism seems to begin and end with sexual attraction."

"I suppose so," said Jaime.

"But, for me, it's more about coincidences. Like the other day, when I was driving to school, I happened to notice a middle-aged woman who was standing outside a corner store —she looked like she was waiting for a ride into Adeline. She had a large umbrella in her hand, which I thought was odd because it wasn't supposed to rain. Anyways, I went to my class and before I left town, I walked up to the coffee shop—this was over two hours later. I had almost reached the coffee shop when who do you suppose came barging around a corner and almost bumped into me?"

"The woman with the umbrella."

"Things like that happen to me frequently, Jamie. Sometimes, I'll see someone as I'm walking into a store, and then when I'm inside the store, I keep running into them. Again and again—it's like we're magnetically attracted."

Jamie considered this as he stared into her beautiful blue eyes. "Do you think it's possible that this happened because you're so beautiful?" Inwardly, Jamie was somewhat skeptical of what she was saying.

Stacey laughed. "You mean that the people I kept meeting were guys who were following me around?"

"Well," said Jaime, "I have done that once or twice in my life."

"No, Jamie," said Stacey, with a smile, "they don't count as coincidences because they're consciously desired meetings. Believe it or not, I can actually tell when I'm going to encounter someone again because from the first time I spot the person, I can sense that I'll be seeing them again and again inside the store."

"Are you saying that—what do you suppose causes this, Stacey? And why does it only happen occasionally? What? Some people don't have magnets? "

Stacey considered these questions for some seconds. "I'm not sure what the explanation is, Jamie. Maybe it's more like...it could be a lot of things—magnets, for instance, have to be aligned just right to attract each other, and coincidences might be a sign that the alignment is perfect. I'm talking, of course, about some kind of energy in the mind. It might sound better if I said that it's like two minds that are on the same wave length, but I don't think wave length is really the right analogy because wave lengths move in a parallel direction, but what I'm talking about is the power of attraction, which is more like two things colliding."

Jamie had no experience with abstract conversations and was just trying to not make a fool of himself. "I think that with my sister, I almost felt like I was being hypnotized."

"As if she had some power that drew you towards her?"

"Yes, exactly like that."

"That's kind of what happens in hypnotism because one mind is able to influence or direct the other. From everything I've read about hypnotism, it's very magnetic, and like I said, hypnotism was invented by the same guy who discovered animal magnetism. So," she said, as she waved her hand quickly towards him and then back to herself, "some people can actually feel what another person is feeling because...it's like their thoughts are magnetically attracted to each other. People think of animal magnetism as being something sexual, but to me, it comes from the mind and doesn't have all that much to do with the body. So when I'm physically attracted to a person, like I am to you, I tend to think it has something to do with the way you and I think about things. Does any of this make sense to you?"

Jamie wasn't about to argue with her, even if the magnetism he felt for Stacey seemed to be wholly connected to her body and had nothing to do with their minds. It was, of course, possible that, deep down, they might think alike, but he couldn't see any similarity except for the kind of intense physical attraction they had for each other. Jamie didn't doubt that Stacey was physically attracted to him--in his experience, it was unheard of for a woman to invite a guy into her apartment at this time of night when they hardly knew each other.

Since he was in no mood to disappoint her, he ventured a friendly guess that was based on his experience with Renee. "Is it a feeling like you're being drawn into something—almost as if it's against your will?"

"I wouldn't say that it's against my will—more like there's something inside of me that is drawn to something inside of you. Of course," she said, in a lighthearted way, "I do have a boyfriend, but..."

"So you must be attracted to him."

"Yes and no—it varies. That's the trouble with this kind of attraction—it usually doesn't seem to last for a very long time. It's something that can come on like a whirlwind and leave like a whirlwind. Just like the woman with the umbrella—I'll probably never see her again in my life, but for those few hours in that one day, we were definitely attracted to each other."

"Just because you met each other a few hours later?"

"Jamie, it was like hitting the lottery. Everything had to be perfect for me to meet her as she came around that corner and almost ran right into me—if I had been a few seconds earlier or later, or she had been a few seconds later or earlier, it wouldn't have happened. Not only that, it was well over two hours since I had seen her standing outside the convenience store. She looked like a woman who worked in an office, so if she was waiting for a ride into Adeline when I first saw her, she should have long since reached her destination. Think about it—she was still carrying the umbrella! I know it's hard to understand what I'm talking about, but these things fascinate me."

"I guess it's kind of like the same thing that kept happening to us at Walmart's."

"Definitely...that's why...oh, I don't know." She put her head back along the top of the couch and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. Turning to him, she said, "But ever since I first saw you, I have been drawn to you—just as if you were a magnet. How about you? Can you feel this, or is it just something in my own imagination?"

Jamie wanted to move closer to her, and he especially wanted to touch her body. Maybe Stacey was right—maybe there were magnetic forces that attracted people. "Do I feel attracted to you now?" he asked her.

"Yes—now."

"I can feel it now," he said.

She had been sitting almost two feet from him, but moved a foot closer to him and said, "How strong is the attraction for you, Jamie?"

He moved towards her until there was no distance between them. Jamie put his hands on her back and drew her even closer until their lips were only a couple of inches apart. "At a certain point," she said, in a sultry voice, "the attraction becomes completely irresistible—like when two magnets are placed side by side."

They kissed, and they kissed some more. It was like animal magnetism! And then, right there on the couch, they began to engage in the ultimate form of animal magnetism.

6

The next morning, as they were drinking coffee in her kitchen, Stacey surprised Jamie by apologizing--surprised him because their hours-long camaraderie in her bed had been so intense and real. "I'm sorry, Jamie—that was just...I don't know what happened. I've never done anything like that before—I really haven't. Well, maybe once before. Believe it or not, I do have a boyfriend," she said, with a nervous laugh. "God, it was so strange—I'd like to blame the weed, but I don't think that had much to do with it. I hope...I don't know—I hope we can still be friends."

Jamie didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed by her attitude. There was something about Stacey that bothered him, although he felt that his anxiety was probably just another manifestation of the fears he had felt after he had first made love to Doreen—obligations! And this time, with Stacey, he might really have something to worry about. No condoms! He figured she must be on the pill, but... "Sure," he said to her, "I don't see why not."

"It's just that...I can't really...this is probably going to have to be a one-time thing, Jamie."

"I understand." Jamie was, by now, prepared for her putdowns and was rolling with the punches. Apparently, the magnets were now repelling each other.

"It's kind of like what I was saying last night," said Stacey. "This kind of intense feeling, like what we had for each other last night, can leave almost as soon as it arrives. Not that I'm not attracted to you anymore, but I have all these other things in my life that can't be denied or put aside, and last night...I probably shouldn't have, but...I know women aren't supposed to express themselves, but I just decided to follow my instincts."

"Sometimes that happens—I don't think there's anything wrong with it."

"I agree, but here's the thing that's so weird about a sudden attraction—when it happens, it seems like the strongest force in the universe, but then, by the next day, you're wondering why everything happened and where everything went."

This was making Doreen's "you can see me on some weekends" look like a very serious commitment. "I guess we did get a little carried away," said Jaime, with a smile.

"I guess so! Look, Jaime, I'm not saying...it's just that I've been with this guy for two years now, so..."

"Don't worry about it, Stacey."

She gave him a slightly suspicious look, and he said, "We can just be friends, Stacey—I'm cool with that."

From then on, Stacey began to maintain more distance between them when they were working. No more sudden meetings in the aisles. She would still talk with him, especially when they were in the break room together, but he could see that her attitude towards him had totally changed. There was none of that coy supercharged flirting, only a casual invitation to innocent chatting. Probably, thought Jamie, it was all for the best—what kind of long-term future did he have with a college student who had a boyfriend? Granted, it was kind of sad the way it had ended with a big unexpected clunk, but it would be a long time before he forgot the nighttime part of his adventures with Stacey. A romp to the golden river in the blazing fire of the noontime sun.

Although, from one point of view, it seemed as if there were some similarities between the way Stacey and Renee had approached him sexually, Jamie could only see the dissimilarities. With Stacey, right from the moment he had first seen her, he was fascinated by her body, but this wasn't at all true with Renee--he was much more attracted to her face and her eyes and the way she spoke about the things that interested her. It was as if there was something so sexy about the way Renee thought and talked that her body seemed almost irrelevant, the last and final piece of the puzzle. And Renee, if she did feel any animal magnetism for him had kept it very well hidden—except, possibly, for the two times they had gone down to the old mill pond and kissed. For her, sex with the body seemed to be almost like an afterthought—something that happened only after two minds came to some kind of mystical Renee-approved agreement. More spiritual and otherworldly than magnetic and worldly. That's why Renee was always probing him with her sexual questions and wanting to know whether he thought sex was the forever deal or just a spruced up version of a one-night stand. Speaking of spruced-up versions of the one-night stand...

Stacey was just the opposite—the whims of the mind were used as a pathway into the lusts of the body. Nothing wrong with that, but after the night at her apartment, Jamie went through a period of soul searching. He didn't really like what had happened, or maybe he did, but he didn't want it to happen again—it seemed dangerous somehow. And so, before long, the night with Stacey brought him back, in his mind, to Renee. He loved her style—her sexual style. She didn't just jump on you with talk about animal magnetism. She thought about sexuality in a very deep and profound way; she considered everything there was to consider; she talked with subtle but sharp hints; she didn't give herself away for a spur-of-the-moment impulse; she placed her partner in a forever world that nothing could shatter; she gave you a love that would never die.

## CHAPTER FOURTEEN: "MY WINGS ARE CRUSHED AND MY SPIRIT IS BROKEN."

1

Jamie felt edgy about abusing the Pearson's hospitality and tried to help out around the house if there was any opportunity. Tommy's parents told him not to worry about it, but then, one day in late July when Hank and Tommy were having a dispute over whose turn it was to mow the lawn, Jamie had stepped in, pushed aside a few half-hearted protests, and was now mowing the lawn regularly. He didn't just do a halfway job either—after he finished with the lawn, he would take the weed whacker around the yard and clip everything that he had missed.

Hank and Mary were impressed as they watched him on one particularly hot and humid day. "This is what having a kid is supposed to be all about," said Hank. "If we don't watch out, he's going to spoil us."

"I really have a soft spot in my heart for him," said Mary. "He's trying so hard for us to like him—it's almost sad."

"I think it's because he's never had anyone who really treated him like a son."

"You're right," said Mary. "It kind of proves how terrible his mother and father have been to him. Imagine searching a kid's room for condoms and then demanding to know who they were bought for."

"And meanwhile, the father is arrested for attempted rape."

"It's amazing that he's so down-to-earth and sensible. Do you think you could get him a job at Lexon?"

It was about a week later, when they were at the dinner table, that Hank talked to Jamie about an opening in the warehouse at Lexon. "It's for forty hours a week, Jamie—you'd start at fifteen dollars an hour, and after six weeks, it would go to fifteen and a half."

"That's like a fortune," said Jaime, "but who's going to hire someone like me?"

"You just graduated from high school—right?"

"Sure, but—"

"A high school diploma is all that's required."

"Mr. Pearson, there must be about a hundred people who are going to apply for a job like that."

"True, but I'm the guy who will ultimately make the hiring decision. So just come into Lexon tomorrow, fill out an application, and put my name down as a recommendation. From what I can see, you're not afraid of hard work, and that's what we're looking for—I think you'd be perfect for the job."

2

About two weeks after he was hired at Lexon, Jamie received a friendly phone call from his Uncle Dave.

"How's it going, Jamie?"

"Great—I just got hired at Lexon."

"You did? Doing what?"

"I'm working in the warehouse forty hours a week, and they're paying me fifteen dollars an hour—my take-home pay is incredible."

"That is a lot of money, Jamie--I've been working at the woolen mills for thirteen years and I'm only making eighteen an hour."

"I know—I'm really happy about it."

"How's life at the house? I guess, from what your mother tells Melissa, you're hardly ever there."

"That's right—I've been staying at Tommy Pearson's place. But with this job at Lexon, I figure that it won't be long before I'll have enough money to rent my own apartment."

"Jamie, the reason I called is because Melissa and I wanted to invite you over for lunch on Saturday—around noon. Renee will be there, and—"

"It's kind of you to offer, Uncle Dave, but I can't really do that."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to get Renee in trouble—you must know about all my mother's threats."

"Yes, I'm well aware of them, Jaime, but they don't apply anymore."

"Don't apply?"

"Maybe you haven't heard about it yet, but your mother and father's divorce became official last week. They're only going through it to preserve their assets, but legally, a divorce is a divorce—I bet you don't know what that means in relation to you and Renee."

Jaime didn't understand the question but only said, "No, I don't."

"The incest law that your mother was threatening you with doesn't apply anymore. If you're the natural child of a parent, then the law is in effect for your entire life, but with adopted children, it only remains in effect while the parents are married. Once they divorce, the law vanishes."

"That's strange," said Jaime. "Are you positive about that?"

"I talked to a lawyer last week, and he showed me the law. He said that they would never have prosecuted you and Renee even if your parents were still married, but now that the divorce has been finalized, it's impossible. So what do you say? Lunch on Saturday?"

"Have you asked Renee about this, Uncle Dave? I don't want...I'm just trying to be careful—that's all."

"Once we told her about the law, she was OK with it."

OK with it? That sounded odd to Jaime. "Alright, Uncle Dave, I'll be there."

3

Originally, Dave and Melissa had only invited Jamie to lunch because they thought he should be able to see his sister. Rachel was still demanding that Renee and Jamie be separated, and ordinarily, regardless of the incest law as it related to adopted children with divorced parents, Dave and Melissa would have respected her wishes, but Rachel had been so highhanded and dictatorial that they had decided to defy her. With Renee living under their roof, "possession is nine-tenths of the law" was becoming their guiding principle. They were also affected by Renee's attitude towards them—since the day that she had moved in, Renee had caused no trouble and made no demands, and Dave and Melissa both felt that she deserved to be treated like an adult, even if she was only seventeen.

However, when they had talked to Renee about Jamie coming to visit them, she had been very hesitant to accept their offer.

"What if my mother were to walk in while Jamie was here?" she had asked them.

"Then we'll tell her the truth," said Melissa. "This is our house, and if we want to invite Jamie here, then it's none of her business."

"She's never going to go for that," said Renee, in a gloomy tone of voice. "Look, the thing I'm really afraid of is that Jamie will get in trouble somehow. He's not supposed to be here—that was made very clear to me by my mother."

"Renee, she doesn't have that kind of power over you anymore—we explained that to you."

"I understand that her divorce means she can't have us arrested, but if she sees Jamie here, he'll never be able to go home again."

"He isn't really living at home anymore, Renee," said Dave.

"He isn't? Where's he living?"

"He's staying at Tommy Pearson's house."

"I didn't know that...so what did Jamie say when you invited him for lunch?"

"As soon as I told him about the adoption law, he said he would like to come."

"Wouldn't it be safer to wait?"

"No, I don't think so," said Dave. "There's something—I don't want to talk about it now, but there's something that I'd like to discuss with the two of you."

Renee looked startled. "Is it something bad?"

"No, not at all. It's just...let me think about it, but in the meantime, can we count on you showing up for lunch around noontime on Saturday—that's when Jamie will be here."

"OK, if that's what you'd like, Uncle Dave."

4

After Renee left the room, Melissa said, "What is it that you want to discuss with them?"

Dave hesitated—he felt his idea would go over better if he went about it in a roundabout way. "Melissa, when Jamie told me that he was making fifteen dollars an hour, it occurred to me that he should be able to afford an apartment pretty soon."

"Good for him, but what's that got to do with Renee?"

"What if he were to get a two-bedroom apartment?"

"I suppose—but again, what does that have to do with Renee?"

"I was thinking that, provided there were two bedrooms, Jamie and Renee could live together."

"Renee and Jaime live together? Oh, Dave, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Well...Rachel would just flip."

"Why do we all have to tiptoe around her? Listen, we all know that our house isn't a good situation for Renee. It's OK as a temporary expedient, but neither Renee nor Ashley can be happy about it. And since Renee can't go home—"

"No, she can't go home—I agree with that. It doesn't matter if Jack goes to jail and Jamie moves out—she can't live there anymore because Rachel has just burned her bridges with those two."

"So what's the long term solution? It really isn't practical to have Renee sharing a bedroom with Ashley for the next couple of years."

"I don't know, Dave...I see your point, but it just seems crazy after everything that's happened. And also, Renee might not go for it—she's been very affected by this whole thing, and I don't know whether she'd want to move in with Jamie."

"But there's no harm in asking her, is there?"

"I'm not sure, Dave—there could be. I understand that we can't spend the rest of our lives following Rachel's orders, but this does seem a little insensitive to me."

"Insensitive to Rachel?" said Dave, in an incredulous tone of voice. "How sensitive has she been to Renee this summer? I'm beginning to feel like a jailor at a prison that Rachel is running for her daughter."

Melissa laughed. "That is a little bit of what it's become, and God help us if we don't do our jobs correctly."

"We've become her accomplices, Melissa, and although our original intention was to help Renee, we're not doing her any good when we allow her mother to dictate everything that she can and can't do."

"I know that, but I just can't imagine telling Rachel about it."

"I can," said Dave. "I think it's high time somebody put that woman in her place."

"Dave, do you really think—are you just saying this for our sake? What about Jamie and Renee—would this really be the best thing for them?"

"That's up to them—they're old enough to decide. It's not like we're going to force them to live together—all we're going to do is make the suggestion. My God, Melissa, they have a right to live together if they want to live together."

"OK, but what about the fact that Renee is only seventeen? Don't you have to be at least eighteen to leave home?"

"This home?" said Dave.

"No, the home of the legal guardian—Rachel will never let her live with Jamie."

"Rachel has already kicked Renee out, so I don't think that she's going to want her back. Besides, don't you and I have any rights at all? Why can't we decide what's best for Renee?"

"Because Rachel is still the legal guardian—the fact that Renee is living here doesn't really mean anything."

"I don't think Rachel will even care. She doesn't love Renee—she despises her. She's not going to tell us that Renee can't leave here, but if she does, we can always just pretend to agree with her and then let Renee go live with Jamie."

"That would never work, Dave."

"Sure it would—what's Rachel going to do? Chase Renee down? The Hastings have enough troubles without bringing Renee into it because if they ever did take this to court, they'd have to deal with the real reason why Renee was sent here. How's that going to make Jack look? Remember, those photos are all the proof that anyone needs."

"Dave, that wouldn't help Renee because they'd fight back by claiming that Jaime and Renee had an incestuous relationship."

"They're not that stupid, Melissa, because if they did that, what's in it for them? At best, custody of Renee, and that's assuming everyone ignores the photos. Besides, by the time this got through the courts, Renee would be eighteen. There's really nothing to worry about, and even if there is, it's time to take a stand and fight for Renee."

Melissa looked at her husband for a few seconds before she said anything. "OK," she said, "but for this to work, both Renee and Jamie have to be genuinely enthusiastic about it."

"I think they'll go for it," said Dave.

"Yes...maybe they will. It could even be the best thing for Renee because she's really been dragged down by all of Rachel's negativity, and that's not going to change as long as she's living here."

5

Jamie arrived at the Harrington's house a little before noon, and Melissa led him into their dining room where he saw that four places had been set. He was, truth to tell, somewhat nervous—it had been almost three months since he had last seen Renee, and he wondered what her attitude towards him would be. As he and Dave struck up a conversation, Melissa went over to the stairs and called for Renee, but it was almost five minutes before she came into the room.

She was wearing a pleasant light-blue dress—Jamie couldn't ever remember seeing her in a dress before. "Hi Jamie," she said, in a soft voice. She waved her hand slightly from side to side as a kind of greeting and took her seat at the table.

"It's good to see you, Renee," said Jaime.

"I know," she said, "it's been a long time."

The lunch was a simple one—grilled cheese sandwiches and a salad. Speaking to both Renee and Jamie, Melissa said, "I want to thank both of you for not trying to contact each other. I'm sure it must have been hard on you to do that, and I hope you realize that I didn't agree with your mother's decision at all, but you made things much easier for Dave and me by being respectful of your mother's wishes."

"I know I've said this a few times," said Renee, "but I'm so sorry about all of this. You must have felt caught in the middle, Aunt Melissa--I mean, how many times did my mother come over here to check up on me?"

"A lot—more than I can count. And every time she came here, she wanted to know if you had received any letters."

"She did?"

"Yes, your mother would take me aside and ask if I was checking the mail and what I was doing with your letters."

"That's weird," said Renee. "The whole time I've been here I've never received anything in the mail, which isn't surprising since no one ever mails me anything."

"That's the way your mother is, Renee. Anyways, as Dave has told both of you, your mother no longer has any legal power to keep you apart, and as far as Dave and I are concerned, you are always welcome here, Jamie."

"That's very kind of you, Aunt Melissa."

"Really?" said Renee. "You honestly don't mind?"

"Not at all."

"I don't know how to say this, but..." Everyone waited for Renee to continue as she played around with her fork and stared at her food. Finally, she looked up and said, "I don't want to cause any trouble, Aunt Melissa. For all we know, my mother could arrive any minute, and then what are we going to do? Maybe she can't send Jamie and me to prison, but I certainly don't want to go through another confrontation with her. You have no idea how much I've suffered because of that scene at my house—it was the worst day of my life."

To Jaime, Renee seemed listless and dispirited, which was very unusual for her. "You'll get over it," said Dave to Renee. "All it takes is a little time, and as far as your mother goes, your aunt and I are fed up with her. If she comes here and isn't respectful to either you or Jaime, she will be shown to the door."

"It's really been hard for me, Uncle Dave," said Renee. "I haven't wanted to talk about it because I've caused everyone here so many problems—"

"Renee," said Melissa, "that's simply not true—you haven't caused us a single problem since you moved in."

Renee again stared at her plate and sighed. Looking up towards her aunt, she said, "It's not anything I've done—it's just that there isn't enough room for me here. Not to mention the fact that I can't buy my own food."

"But your father is giving us five hundred dollars a month," said Dave. "Believe it or not, we're actually making a profit on you."

"You probably should give some of that money to Ashley—I know I wouldn't have been happy if my mother had moved Ashley into my room back when I was living at the house."

Jamie knew that the Ashley/Renee roommate scene was probably bothering Renee. Even though they were within a year of each other in age, they had entirely different temperaments.

"Yes, I know," said Melissa, "I'm sure it's difficult on both of you, but it won't last forever."

"I don't see how it's going to change, Aunt Melissa. Everyone wants me to finish high school, so I can't get a real job, and finding a place of my own is going to take lots and lots of money, money that I don't even come close to having."

"But at least you make some money," said Melissa. "Tell Jamie what you're doing."

"It's not really much of anything," said Renee. "It's just kind of a small make-believe restaurant downtown where I waitress part-time and make about sixty dollars a week."

"What's the name of it?" said Jaime.

"Modern Menu. It's nothing special--the food isn't that great, and the tips are really meager because it's advertised as a low-budget place. For the most part, people just buy coffee and donuts, so I only end up making about eight dollars an hour, but it's nice to have my own spending money. I keep trying to give Aunt Melissa half the money I make, but she won't take it. "

"We don't really need the money," said Melissa.

Renee smiled at Jaime and said, "It was such a victory for me last week—I finally got Aunt Melissa to take twenty dollars a week."

"Your sister must have asked me to take that money about ten times," said Melissa to Jaime.

"I think," said Renee, "that I'm suffering from shellshock or something. I never told anyone this, but about a month ago, I was walking through the mall with Jasmine, and I thought I saw Jaime walking towards us. It sounds strange, but I practically had a panic attack. Jasmine had no idea what was going on as I bolted into a store and hid behind a rack of clothes until this guy went by—it turned out that it wasn't Jaime, but I've never been to the mall since that day."

"Just because you were afraid that you might run into Jaime?" said Dave.

"I know it sounds stupid, but I was frightened that if my mother was in the mall, she would think that I was trying to meet Jamie, and with all this stuff that's been going on with my father, I would have moved heaven and earth not to see Jaime and me on the front page of the newspaper."

"I've felt exactly the same way," said Jaime. "I don't think I've been to the mall since you moved over here, Renee, or if I have, I don't remember it."

"You haven't been to the mall? Not even the ice cream shop?"

"No, I would never have gone there. I had exactly the same fear you did."

"That you'd meet me?"

"Yes."

"Wow," said Renee, in a soft tone of voice. "I guess neither one of us was taking any chances."

"I always thought," said Jaime to Renee, "that before too long we'd be able to talk to each other again, but there was just no way that I was going to defy my mother because, basically, I think she's crazy, and it can be dangerous to defy crazy people."

"She's crazy—there's no doubt about that," said Renee.

6

By now, everyone had finished eating, and Melissa said, "Dave and I are going to leave you two alone for a little while—I'm sure there are a lot of things that you'd like to say to each other."

"I don't mind talking to Jaime," said Renee, "but there's nothing in particular that I want to tell him."

"I understand," said Melissa with a smile. "Just enjoy yourself, Renee—we'll be back in a few minutes."

"OK," said Renee, in a doubtful tone of voice.

Just as Dave and Melissa were about to disappear into the kitchen, Melissa turned and said, "Don't worry—neither Dave nor I are going to be listening at the door."

"I'm glad you said that," said Jaime, with a laugh.

Once they had gone, Renee said, "I don't know what it is, Jaime, but I can hardly do anything."

"You're probably just depressed."

"No doubt—I feel like I've been through the wringer."

"Have you seen Jasmine much?"

"Some, but like I said, I don't feel comfortable going to the mall with her because I've been so afraid that I might run into you."

"So what have you done all summer?"

"Mostly, sit around here and watch TV or read books and magazines. It's a great life as long as you're eighty and are confined to a wheelchair."

"But it should get better now."

"Why's that?"

"With all of Mom's threats out of the way, you can do what you want."

"I don't know, Jamie—maybe, after a while. Right now, I just feel like some bird that got stomped on. My wings are crushed and my spirit is broken—it's so hard to describe. And also, it probably doesn't help that I'm living in the same room as Ashley. She's always on the phone with a guy—practically right up until midnight. You wouldn't believe it, Jamie—she actually takes the phone under the covers, and I can hear all this giggling and stuff."

"I used to do that with Doreen."

"Go under the covers?"

"No, but we had some conversations that were pretty sexual."

"I'm surprised that Mom didn't find out about it. Anyways, I wanted to apologize to you."

"For what?"

"For causing you all this trouble—none of this would have happened if I had listened to you."

"None of what would have happened? What are you talking about?"

"You always said that if we started fooling around with each other, the whole world would come down on us, and that's exactly what happened. And I just blew you off and said 'So what?' But I'm not saying 'So what?' now."

"Renee, why are you doing this to yourself? You didn't do anything wrong—stop talking this way."

"Don't tell me that it didn't bother you when Mom wanted to know how many condoms you had used and who you had used them with?"

"Of course it did, but that was a million years ago."

"It seems like yesterday to me, Jamie. I know she's crazy, but I think there are a lot of people who would react the same way she did if they found out their kids were kissing each other."

"Their adopted kids?"

"Yes—think about it, Jamie. Suppose you had adopted two kids and you walked into a room and found them making out. How would feel?"

"I don't think it would bother me."

"You're just saying that to try and make me feel better. Just imagine it--there you are, and you've brought these two kids up for fifteen years or so and suddenly they're making out? It's kind of disgusting, if you think about it."

"Renee, I don't think what we did was disgusting."

"Don't be angry at me, Jamie. I didn't mean that you were disgusting or anything. And no, what we did wasn't disgusting, but I can see where other people would be disgusted."

"Aunt Melissa and Uncle Dave don't feel that way."

"They've just been wonderful to me, Jamie. The day after I arrived here, I told Aunt Melissa that I never wanted to see Mom again, and she offered to be my mother. And that's kind of what she's been to me ever since I moved in here."

"Have you seen our former mother much?" asked Jamie.

"Yuck. The first couple of times she was here, I just ran upstairs and hid. But then Aunt Melissa told me that I couldn't do that every time she came to visit, so I had to sit and listen to her go on and on with all her phobias and obsessions."

"Did she give you any more lectures about you and me?" said Jaime, in an amused way.

"You can't possibly think that she would come all the way over here to say something kind to me, do you? About the best thing that she's said to me all summer is that I 'seem' to be following the rules. And then, of course, she'd repeat all the rules to me. My God, Jamie, what are we going to do if she walks in here? She doesn't call beforehand, you know."

"It sounds like Aunt Melissa and Uncle Dave will take care of her."

"They better because I'm running upstairs if she shows up. I wonder if she can kick me out of here? It's kind of scary because, for me, there isn't a next stop."

"I know—it's like we've been orphaned all over again."

Renee attempted to laugh but didn't quite make it. "I guess I'm just going to be an orphan for my whole life. Anyways, Jamie, I hear you have a great job and are staying at Tommy's for the summer. Does he still have a girlfriend? Not that I'm interested in him—I couldn't really handle having a boyfriend right now."

"He's found a new girlfriend."

"And you?"

"Do I have a girlfriend?"

"You must—I know how you are, Jamie."

"Actually, I don't—although during the month I worked at Walmart's, I—"

"You worked at Walmart's?"

"Just until I got the job at Lexon. Anyways, there was this girl there—"

"Jamie! How many times do I have to tell you? When we've reached the age of consent, we're not girls—we're young ladies! At least I hope it wasn't a girl that you were interested in because then Mom would really have something to complain about. So who was this young lady that you were so attracted to?"

By now, Jamie wished that he had never brought Stacey into the conversation—he had just been bantering with Renee and hadn't realized where it was leading him. "She had long straight blond hair and was really beautiful—"

"And she worked at Walmart's?" said Renee, with amazement.

"She was an assistant manager, but—"

"Did you kiss her?"

Jamie was keeping this one to himself. "No, it wasn't anything like that at all. It was just that she was really beautiful, and I couldn't take my eyes off her."

"The first sign," said Renee. "So what was her name?"

"Stacey Jameson."

"And that's it? That's all you've done this summer?"

"I've done a lot of things this summer, Renee. Remember, I'm working forty hours a week."

"I'm not talking about that, Jamie. I just can't believe that you've been staying away from the ladies all summer—except, of course, with your eyes."

"I guess it is kind of strange, isn't it?"

"I'm totally shocked, actually."

"I don't know—my heart just hasn't been into dating this summer."

"Neither has mine," said Renee.

7

The door into the dining room opened and Melissa and Dave entered the room. After they sat down, Melissa said, "Dave and I have something that we'd like to suggest to both of you—it might seem odd, but we've been thinking about it for the last couple of days." Abruptly, she stopped and looked at her husband.

"What's the matter?" said Renee.

"Renee," said Melissa, "I know you can't be all that happy with the living arrangements here—what with you having to share a room with Ashley."

"Aunt Melissa, I was just telling Jaime how wonderful you and Uncle Dave have been to me—believe me, I'm not complaining."

"I know that, Renee, but what your Uncle Dave and I have been thinking about is this: What if you and Jamie were to rent a two-bedroom apartment somewhere in the Adeline area?"

Renee was obviously shocked by the suggestion. "Jamie and I?"

"Yes, now that Jamie has the job at Lexon, it would probably work moneywise. Not only that, last Christmas someone gave me fifteen hundred dollars, and you and Jamie could use that for the deposit and all the rest of the things that you have to pay for when you rent an apartment."

"Someone gave you fifteen hundred dollars?" said Dave.

"Yes—I never told you about it because...I don't know why—I think I just wanted some money in the bank in case something happened."

"Who gave you the money?"

"My sister—the one who lives in Oregon." Turning to Renee, Melissa said, "So what do you think—would you like to try it? You'll have a room of your own for the first time since May."

"I don't know what to say, Aunt Melissa," said Renee. "How do you feel about it, Jamie? You'd be the one who would have to pay all the bills."

"I think it's a great idea, Renee. I can't stay with Tommy forever—actually, I was going to start looking for a place next month." Turning to Melissa, he said, "Thanks so much for offering us the money, but I don't think we'll need it."

"Jamie," said Dave, "take my word for it—you'll need it. Nowadays, it takes almost three thousand dollars to land an apartment in Adeline."

"Three thousand dollars!" said Renee. "No wonder so many people are homeless."

"That includes the first month's rent, the deposit, and the last month's rent."

"Alright," said Jaime to Dave, "but as soon as I can, I'll pay the money back."

"Jaime," said Melissa, "it's a gift, and I'd really appreciate it if you would take the money and not worry about where it came from."

"It's just that it's so much money, Aunt Melissa."

"Don't worry about it, Jamie. This way, you and Renee can find an apartment much sooner--hopefully, before the school year begins." Melissa put her hand on Renee's and said, "You really need to have a room of your own, and there's no way that's going to happen here."

"But...what will people think, especially after what happened last spring?"

"Renee," said Dave, "very few people know anything about that—just the four of us sitting here and your mother and father. No one is going to think it strange if a brother and a sister rent an apartment—it happens all the time."

"Not all the time, not really."

"But, Renee, no one is even going to care whether you're related to Jamie--you're just assuming the worst."

"I'm not assuming the worst when it comes to my mother—she'll go berserk if she finds out that I'm living with Jaime."

"You can't let her control you all your life," said Melissa. "And look, I'm sure Ashley would be thrilled at the news."

"I know that—it makes her very uncomfortable for me to be sleeping in her bedroom."

"Both you and Ashley need a room of your own," said Melissa, "and Jamie is the only one you know who has enough money to make that happen." Melissa looked at Jamie and said, "You really don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all."

"So what do you say, Renee?" said Melissa. "I think it will be good for all of us."

"I guess so," said Renee, "but there is one condition."

"What's that?" said Melissa.

"When my mother finds out about this, you have to be the one to tell her that this was your idea—not mine or Jamie's."

"Renee," said Dave, "you don't have to worry about that part of it. We're going to have to tell her one of these days, but your aunt and I will take the responsibility."

Renee looked at Jamie and said, "You're really sure about this?"

"I'm sure."

"OK," said Renee, "but the only reason I'm doing this is because...it's like you say, Aunt Melissa—Ashley deserves to have her room back."

8

Melissa and Renee spent a week searching for a two-bedroom apartment and finally found one that was only a mile and a half from the high school. Before they brought the one-year lease to Jaime for his signature, the two of them had a conversation about Renee's new living situation—specifically, her new roommate.

"What's bothering you, Renee?"

The two of them were eating a pizza together on the way home from where they had picked up the lease. "Nothing," said Renee.

"You don't seem very happy about this, Renee."

"I'm just nervous about what's going to happen. Jaime and I—sometimes, I think he wants to go back to the way it was before my mother found that note."

"And you don't?"

"Once burned, twice shy," said Renee. "There are just too many things going against you when you start having a relationship with your brother."

"Sure," said Melissa, "I can understand that."

"It's not like a whole bunch of people are complaining about it, but that's only because no one knows about it—I mean, back then, it was only the note that gave us away, but...just to give you an example, I can still remember the time when Jaime and I were in the mall and I said I wanted to hold his hand."

"What did he say?" said Melissa, with a slight laugh as she pictured to herself what she would have thought if she had seen them strolling through the mall hand in hand.

"He was appalled by the suggestion--now I understand how he felt. So the way I'm thinking about it now is like this: What kind of relationship can you have with a guy if you're afraid to hold his hand in the mall? It's almost worse than being a convicted criminal—people would look at us like we're perverts."

"What kind of feelings do you have for Jaime now?"

"More like he's my brother, but I can sense that Jamie doesn't feel that way."

"Renee, I think if you tell him how you felt, he'd accept it."

"I'm sure he would, but..."

"But what?"

"I don't know...I really shouldn't talk about this anymore because it sounds like I'm complaining. Don't worry about me, Aunt Melissa—I can't wait to have my own room again. I'm just so grateful to you and Jaime and Uncle Dave for all that you've done for me. I hope to God that the day comes when I can pay you all back--I can't believe that you're giving us fifteen hundred dollars. That's a lot of money, and I know that you and Uncle Dave have a ton of expenses."

"It's not that much money, Renee. And besides, like I said, someone gave me that money, and I've just been looking for an excuse to spend it."

"But you're spending it on me!"

"What's so bad about that?"

## CHAPTER FIFTEEN: THE INCEST PARLOR

1

Jamie and Renee moved into their apartment on Saturday, the 31st of August. Neither of them had many belongings, so it had only taken Jamie a couple of hours to clean out his room at his parent's house. He had also been able to take the last of Renee's things by telling his mother that he was bringing them to the Harrington's. Finally, for his last two loads of the day, he had gone to the Harrington's house and helped Renee move everything that she had brought with her when she moved there in May.

Their place was located on a suburban street that ran between Riverside Boulevard and Route 13—a back road that eventually led to Pittsburgh. They lived on the second floor above a young married couple with two children who often made a lot of noise, but neither Renee nor Jamie were there most of the day, and at night, it was much quieter. Their apartment was fairly small—much smaller than the downstairs one. There was a kitchen that looked out into a large back yard, a combination dining area and living room, and on either side of the living room, at the front of the house, were the two bedrooms.

The apartment was furnished, although minimally. The Harringtons had given them an old TV, which they set up on a table in the living room, and Jamie, in a fit of pique, had managed to haul his computer out of his parent's house. Technically, it had been taken away from him as a punishment for his relationship with Renee, but as he had been carrying his clothes out of the house, he noticed the computer on a table near the TV, and without asking, he had picked it up and brought it out to his car.

His mother was waiting for him at the door when he returned from the car. Up to this point, the only thing he had told her was that he was "moving in with a friend," so he was rather glib when his mother started barking at him.

"What do you think you're doing, Jamie? That computer doesn't belong to you anymore."

"Mom, I'm sorry, but it has a lot of things on it that I need."

"Such as?"

"College applications—things like that."

She looked at him suspiciously and said, "I don't know if Jack is going to go for that. He told me he was planning to use it to research some investments."

"He already has his own computer, plus Renee's. How many computers does he need?"

Rachel walked over to the basement door, which was unlocked—apparently, now that the "children" were gone, Jack didn't bother padlocking himself into his fortress. "Jack," she yelled.

"What is it? I thought I told you not to bother me."

"Jamie wants to take the computer that's in the living room. Is that OK? I know it belongs to you, but he says he needs it for his college applications."

Jack walked over to the bottom of the stairs and said, "Is he here now?"

Jaime took his mother's place at the top of the stairs. "My little French kisser," said his father, by way of greeting. "The end of August seems a little late to apply for college. So how much are you willing to give me for it?"

"Dad, I hardly have any money."

"Fifty bucks—take it or leave it."

Jamie was tempted to just drive off with the computer, but since he had fifty dollars on him, he walked down the stairs and gave the money to his father. Jack grabbed the money out of his hand, and as Jamie turned and started back up the stairs, his father said, "You're welcome."

2

Their first week of living together had been a quiet one. Jamie couldn't help but notice that Renee seemed very subdued, and when he asked her what was troubling her, she said she was dreading the following Saturday. This was the day that Melissa and Dave had picked out to tell Rachel about the new living arrangements of her kids. As Jamie and Renee finished their dinner on Thursday night, she told him that she had recently had a nightmare about her mother.

"I was tied up or something, and she had this huge red can of gasoline in her hand and said that she was going to douse me with it and set me on fire. I was so terrified that I could hardly breathe, and I can remember screaming out, 'No, Mom, don't do it!' She was laughing in that evil way of hers, but then, just as she was about to dump the gasoline on me, you showed up—this was in my old room at the house. When my ex-mother saw you, she backed up to the door and said, "I'll be back—and next time, I'll set both of you on fire."

Jamie sighed. One thing that he had never expected was the extent to which Renee had been traumatized by his mother. He had long since written off his mother's antics as the ravings of a crazy person--nothing to take seriously, not really. But Renee was reacting a lot differently than he was.

"Do I really have to go with you to the Harrington's, Jamie?"

"You know that Aunt Melissa wants both of us to be there—remember, this isn't going to be like what happened at the house. The only person who's going to be on Mom's side is herself. All we have to do is sit there and let her rant and rave."

"Rant and rave? It's going to be a little bit more than that. You saw how she was after she discovered my note to you—wait until she finds out that we're living together. And Jamie, please don't call her Mom, at least not in front of me—I've decided that she's my ex-mother, and nothing is ever going to change that. I just wish that I could never see her again in my life."

"Who knows, Renee? This might be the last time you ever see her."

"I certainly hope so."

3

When Rachel arrived at the Harrington's, she found Dave and Melissa sitting on a couch in their TV room, while Jamie and Renee were sitting in stuffed chairs on either side of the couch. Rachel's expected landing spot was an antique chair that was placed in a position where she could see everyone who was in the room.

"OK, Melissa," said Rachel, as she entered the room. "What is this all about?" It was only after saying this that she saw Jaime and Renee. Rachel gasped and put her hand over her mouth. One never knows when horror is about to strike!

"Rachel," said Melissa, "we've—"

"I specifically told you," said Rachel, "that these two were not to associate with each other. Wasn't I very specific about that?"

"Yes, Rachel, but—"

"So why are these two sitting together in this room? How specific do I have to be, and how many times do I have to repeat myself?"

"Rachel," said Dave, "we need to talk to you." Jamie had never heard Dave speak in such a stern tone of voice—almost threatening.

"About what? Are you going to tell me that my children have taken up where they left off last spring?"

"No," said Dave, "but you need to hear—"

"I see no reason to be a party to this," said Rachel. "It's obvious that you're mocking me, and I have better things to do than listen to people who think it's acceptable to defy a mother's rightful wishes." As she moved towards the door that led out of the room, Dave said, "Renee isn't living here anymore."

Rachel stopped moving towards the door, turned, and said, "You threw her out?"

"No," said Melissa, "Renee and Jamie have moved into a two-bedroom apartment."

For a moment, Rachel froze, as if she were playing a game of statues. Once she had passed through that stage, she had a few comments to make. "And who gave anyone the authority to make that decision?"

Jamie was the one who attempted to answer her question. "Aunt Melissa and Uncle Dave thought that Renee—"

"Shut up, Jaime!" said Rachel. "I was not asking for your opinion because we all know how you feel about Renee. Melissa, who gave you the right to make this decision? Tell me—who gave you the right?"

"Everyone," said Melissa, in a tone of suppressed annoyance.

"What is that supposed to mean?" said Rachel.

"Dave and I, along with Jaime and Renee, came to the decision."

"And I suppose that you're proud of this decision of yours?"

"Rachel—it's the best thing for everyone. It's too crowded for Renee to stay here."

"Is that so? A month ago, when I asked you that question, you said it wasn't a problem."

"Well, it is now," said Melissa, in a curt tone.

"So which is it, Melissa? Were you lying to me then, or are you lying to me now?"

"There's no need to talk that way," said Dave.

Rachel laughed derisively. "I suppose you all thought that because these two children of mine will be living in a two-bedroom apartment, I would approve of this shameful idea. But I have some news for you: By the first of October, their two-bedroom apartment will become a one-bedroom apartment, assuming it isn't already."

"That's enough," said Renee. "I can't take any more of this—I'll wait outside in your car, Jaime."

"Fine!" said Rachel. "That's a good place for you, I suppose."

"Rachel," said Melissa, as Renee left the room, "there's just no reason to be so negative."

"How else do you expect me to be when I'm around people who have no sense of morality? And listen—you can forget about the support check. There's no way that I'm going to fund a brothel."

"Mom," said Jaime, "that's just a totally disgusting thing to say."

"Oh, pardon me—it won't really be a brothel. More like an incest parlor where you and that other child of mine can carry on your perverted kissing games. Mark my words, everyone—by the first of October, my two children will be telling the whole world how much in love they are."

With that final salvo, she turned and walked out of the room.

4

After Rachel left, they were all silent for a few moments until Melissa said, "I'm sorry, Jaime. I knew she wouldn't be happy to hear about this, but I never thought it was going to be so bad. And really, we had to tell her because, technically, she's still your mother."

"With my mother," said Jaime, "I've come to accept that it's always going to be worse than you expect."

"There's something wrong with her," said Dave.

"No doubt," said Jaime. "I'm surprised she didn't talk about throwing us into jail."

"I always thought she was bluffing about that," said Dave.

It was a warm September day, and the windows were open, so they could hear noises outside. Jaime had parked about thirty feet from the nearest window, and suddenly, they could hear Rachel screaming at Renee.

"Just look at you! You are nothing but a cheap, worthless tramp—a gutter girl!"

Melissa and Dave immediately rose from their seats, but Jamie was far ahead of them. He reached his mother just as she was saying, "Your mother must have worked in a brothel in Pittsburgh, but she can't compare to you--incest is bestial, the most terrible crime known to man."

Jaime could see that Renee had her hands over her face and was sobbing hysterically. Without thinking, Jaime grabbed his mother by the arm and pushed her away from his car—he pushed her hard enough that she stumbled over a nearby curb and went sprawling onto the grass. Before Rachel could even begin to pick herself up, Jamie yanked her to her feet, and as the Harrington's looked on in a worried way, Jamie literally dragged his mother to her car, yanked open the door and deposited his mother in the driver's seat. "Now," he said, "I have something to tell you, and I want you to remember it—neither you nor my father are welcome in our lives anymore. Renee and I thank you for what you've done for us, but we're moving on without you. Goodbye."

As he walked away from her, his mother said, "And good riddance to you."

5

By the time that Jamie had returned to Renee, she had gotten out of his car, and Melissa was holding her as she continued to sob. "Please don't worry about it, Renee," said Melissa. "We'll always be here for you and Jaime. Always."

"For sure," said Dave, who was looking at Jaime.

"She is just so cruel and bigoted," said Renee. She took her tear-stained face off Melissa's shoulder, and looking at her aunt, she said, "We kind of talked about this before, but from this day on, can you be my real mother? I just...I don't know--at times like this, I feel like I need a mother."

"Of course, Renee—if that's what you want."

"I'm serious," said Renee. "There are going to be times when I might need advice or something, and right now, I don't have anyone to turn to."

"Yes, Renee, I'll be happy to do that."

"I'm really serious about this, Aunt Melissa —I know you have three children of your own, so you probably can't really do this, but do you think you could kind of treat me like I was your daughter?"

"I understand what you're saying, Renee—yes, I can do that."

"I'll still call you Aunt Melissa, but—"

"You can call me Mom if you want."

"No, no. Everyone will think that's too weird—it'll just be our little secret."

"OK, Renee," said Melissa, "I do have some advice for you. Look at me now, and listen to me."

"Alright—what is it?"

"You can't have two mothers, so you're going to have to forget about your old mother."

"I don't know if I can do that, Aunt Melissa—she's not the type of person who's easy to forget."

"But you have to, Renee. I can't be your real mother if you're always thinking about your old one."

"I guess you're right about that," said Renee, with an attempt at a laugh.

"Of course I am. So what I want you to do is this: If you're starting to get down on yourself, I want you to call me or come over here and we'll talk about it. OK? I don't want to see any child of mine suffer—that's what mothers are for."

"You're just so kind to me," said Renee, as she put her head on Melissa's shoulder again and began to sob.

6

That night, Renee and Jamie talked about what had happened at the Harrington's.

"Thanks for coming to my defense, Jaime. I was like totally freaking out while she was screaming at me."

"You just have to ignore her when she goes off on one of her rants."

"Jamie, I don't ever intend to see her again."

"Did you hear what I told her?"

"No--I was too busy bawling my brains out."

"I told her...I don't remember exactly what I said because I was so upset—I think it was that neither one of us wanted to see her or Dad again."

"Good! I'm beginning to feel like this place here is my sanctuary."

"It is."

"But," said Renee, "I'm going to have to get over this crying thing and feeling sorry for myself all the time. Just because I have a nitwit ex-mother who accuses me of being born in a brothel doesn't mean that I have to break down and lose it."

"I think we should both forget that they ever existed."

"Of course--I just can't waste any more tears on them, Jaime, because I've got my own life to live, and they're certainly not helping me. Do you think it was stupid of me to ask Aunt Melissa to be my mother?"

"Not at all—she's been on our side ever since that day at our house."

"Our former house, Jaime."

Jaime laughed and said, "Our former everything—our former house, our former father, and our former mother."

For the first time all day, Renee laughed. She put her palm up to her mouth, fingers outward, blew on it, and said, "Poof! Our former life is now officially a thing of the past."

## CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE MOST IMPORTANT DECISION THAT YOU WILL EVER MAKE

1

Except for the weekends, Renee and Jamie's lives were structured by external circumstances. From Monday through Friday, school and work both began at eight, so Jamie would drive Renee to Adeline High before going to Lexon to begin his eight-hour shift. After work, he generally came home, but sometimes, he would go over to Tommy's. Tommy, who had never been enthusiastic about the college scene despite the urging of his parents, had enrolled at a small college that was located about ten miles south of Adeline. He didn't try to hide the fact that he was jealous of Jamie. "Man, I wish it had occurred to me to ask my father if he could find a job for me at Lexon. But how was I to know? For the last two years, he's been pushing me every day to go to college, and I was like 'OK, if he wants to blow his money on something like that, then why should I get in the way?' But I'd sell my soul to be taking home two grand a month like you are—what a gig!"

With Pete rarely being around because he and his family had moved to a town near Pittsburgh, the two of them had gone back to playing their guitars again, and sometimes, when the tides of optimism were running really high, they would talk about forming a duet and singing at local bars. "The only problem," said Tommy, "is that we'd have to work at it, and I'm really not all that much into work—I think that's why I opted out for college. Four more years of living on the gravy train while I try to figure out what I'm going to do with the rest of my life."

When Jaime didn't go to Tommy's, he usually came straight home and fooled around on the computer until it was time to pick Renee up at Modern Menu. Renee's last class ended at three-thirty, but Jasmine now had a car, so Renee was able to get a ride to the downtown area where she waitressed, Monday through Friday, from five to seven. Jamie would meet her outside the restaurant at seven and drive her home—once there, the first order of business was dinner, which Renee had taken complete charge of. When they had first moved in together, Jamie had attempted to cook the meals, but Renee had fired him from the chef's job due to his total lack of competence. "Please, Jamie, just wait until I get back. OK? It's nice that you're trying to make my life easier by cooking dinner, but it doesn't do me any good if I can't eat what you cook."

After dinner, Renee would crack open the books and make a go of it. It was an onerous chore for her, especially since she had, by necessity, given up the idea of going to college and was now hoping that she could do what Jamie had done and find a high-paying job once she graduated from high school. Since Jamie had nothing special to do but play the video games he was so obsessed with, Renee usually commandeered him to help with her homework. Renee had an awful time with algebra, and she and Jaime would pore over arcane algebra problems, but unfortunately, they had very limited success because Jaime wasn't exactly a whiz at math. The two of them had better results with her English and Civics classes because here, they could use the computer to help them. One of the books that had been assigned to Renee in her English class had actually been read by Jamie online—not the original version, of course, but the very abbreviated version for those who couldn't bother with the ins and outs of some "masterpiece" that had been written a hundred and fifty years ago.

Homework sessions always ended by ten, and sometimes, when Renee became fed up with wrestling with her books, she would stop at nine. Afterwards, the two of them would watch TV until eleven. Renee had taken total command of the clicker—she explained to Jamie that because he was in charge of everything else except cooking dinner, it was only fair that the clicker belonged to her. "What am I in charge of?' said Jaime, in a mystified tone.

"You're in charge of paying for everything, aren't you?" Renee laughed and said, "I just don't like the programs you like, Jamie, so there's no point in arguing about it."

It didn't really make any difference to Jaime. They couldn't afford cable, so they only received four channels, and as long as Renee didn't turn on the educational channel and start watching some boring program that was about to put him to sleep, he never complained.

For both of them, it was their favorite time of day.

2

The weekends were, of course, much different. No more teachers, no more books, no more bosses' dirty looks! Jaime didn't do all that much. Saturday was recover from work day—he had only been working at Lexon for three weeks before he came to the conclusion that a forty-hour week was one of the most arduous things that an ordinary person can do. There was just so little time to do anything for oneself, and on Saturday, he would sleep late and then cruise around in the afternoon as he listened to tunes on the radio. Sometimes, he would drive along some scenic road that led through the forest that was northeast of Adeline and just space out as he drove for miles and miles—it was a beautiful time of year since the leaves were beginning to turn. Jamie was too preoccupied to be concerned with the foliage, but it did serve as a pleasant backdrop to a persistent and underlying theme that kept running through his mind: The girlfriend thing...

Renee liked to use Saturday to hang out with Jasmine. "It's so great nowadays," she said to Jaime, "because for the first time since May, I can go to the mall without worrying that I might run into my big bad brother. It's too bad that I don't have any money to spend, but it's still a blast."

"What about the money you make at the restaurant?"

Renee reached over, picked her pocketbook up off the table, and after opening it, she gave Jamie one hundred twenty dollars. "That's what I made the last two weeks, Jamie—minus thirty dollars that I took out for some snacks at school and a couple of ice cream cones at the mall. Sometimes, around two in the afternoon, I just get these monster cravings for a candy bar."

"Renee—you don't have to give me this money."

"Are you kidding? I know the rent is a thousand a month, and you have to pay for the electric bill, the internet, and the cell phone. Plus, you buy almost all the food. So wise up, be humble, and stop trying to push my money away."

"But you've got to have some money, Renee. Nobody can live on fifteen dollars a week."

"I'm not living on fifteen dollars a week—I'm living off you."

Jamie took the money but gave three twenties back to her.

"Jamie—"

"Don't worry about it, Renee—if I took more than that from you, I'd begin to feel like Dad."

Reluctantly, Renee put the three twenties back into her pocketbook. "That's not true, Jamie—if you were my ex-father, you'd take every penny I had."

On Sundays, they often hung out at the apartment together, along with doing some mundane chores. Wash day! So there was always a trip to the Laundromat, and on their way back, they would stop at a grocery store and shop so that Jamie wouldn't have to bother with that during the week. For Renee, the Laundromat was torture, even though she always brought one of her schoolbooks. "This is just the most depressing place in the world, Jamie. I swear, when they send me to hell, I'll end up in one of these places. And God will say, 'Renee, it's not so bad—here's your algebra book.'"

Occasionally, on Sundays, the two of them would pick Tommy up and take a jaunt to the mall with him and his new girlfriend. Jasmine would sometimes join them with her new boyfriend, a handsome but slightly scary looking guy named Mario Gonzalez. On the ride back to their apartment after one of these excursions, Renee said, "Do you ever get the sense that people are looking at us in a strange way?"

"What people?"

"Jasmine and Tommy were both staring at us—I think that's because they've known us for so long. They're probably beginning to wonder why we hang out so much together."

"I didn't notice it," said Jaime.

"But I did—I mean, Jaime, how many people our age are going to the mall with their brother or sister on a regular basis?"

3

Renee had begun to wear wire-rimmed glasses. When Jaime asked her why, she said that she thought they made her look more intelligent. They had just finished dinner and were procrastinating before beginning Renee's homework. "My glasses are important for two reasons, Jamie. The most obvious reason is that I don't want teachers to think I'm stupid, but the real reason is that it keeps a lot of guys away from me."

"What kind of guys would those be?"

"A lot of men are scared of intelligent women."

"I'm not."

"I hope you're not about to tell me that Doreen Kiley was intelligent."

"Well, Renee, she's going to Princeton."

"There's a big deal! And I'm going to be lucky to make it through high school. I guess, with you, the glasses aren't really working."

"That's not what I meant, Renee."

"Are you trying to tell me that Doreen is stupid? Actually, anybody who would leave you for four years of book torture at Princeton couldn't have too much on the ball." Renee's eyes were smiling at him through her glasses.

"So are the glasses helping you?" said Jaime, who didn't really want to be reminded of Doreen.

"It seems that way--I've only had two guys ask me out so far, but they were weirdos that I wouldn't have been attracted to even if I was living on a desert island."

"How come you're pushing everyone away?"

"I was thinking about that the other day, and I finally realized it was because I lived with Ashley all summer--I really learned a lot from her."

"Like what?" Jaime didn't understand how Renee could learn much from Ashley.

"For one thing, she reminded me of the way I was about a year and a half ago. Ashley is just totally obsessed with guys—she's certainly a lot more experienced than I am. In fact, I think she's a lot more experienced than you."

"Impossible!" said Jaime.

"Ha! Miss Ashley Harrington really does get around. You might not believe this, Jaime, but last summer, she was going to the big event with this game named Alex, while at the same time, she was making out with another guy—his name was Ron."

"She told you that?"

"At first, she tried to keep it a secret from me because I think she was afraid that I'd squeal to Aunt Melissa, so those were the days when she would take her cell phone under the covers, but a lot of times, I would hear things...it was pretty gross, Jaime. Anyways, after a while she began to trust me, and one day, we had about the most bizarre conversation that I've ever had with anyone."

"What did she say?" said Jaime, who was amused.

"I'll kind of have to give you the polite, non x-rated version because, believe it or not, I'm a lady, and I refuse to use a certain vulgar word every five seconds. We were up in our room after dinner, and I was trying to read a book when she suddenly said, 'Have you ever made it with two guys at once, Renee?'

"'You mean have I gone out with two guys at once?' You know how I am, Jamie—sweet little innocent me, the practicing virgin.

"'No,' said Ashley, 'I mean actually making it with them.'

"I was beyond astounded, Jamie. I knew Ashley was a little wild, but I couldn't imagine that she would go that far. At least I was half right."

"She was only going to the big event with one of them?"

"Yes, she and Alex were doing it like constantly, at least that's what she claimed, but she told me that she was getting bored of him and was now making out with Ron. Actually she didn't say making out—it was something a lot worse than that. My God, I'd never heard such language. But then, after Ashley spent a couple of extremely purple minutes describing her make-out sessions with Ron, she told me that she still liked Alex and didn't want to hurt his feelings."

"So she wanted your advice?"

"Sort of, and I, of course, had absolutely no idea what to tell her—it was almost like she was looking up to me as a respected authority. Or maybe she was just bragging, but I can't imagine why Ashley would want to brag about all the tacky episodes in her sex life. What I wanted to tell her was that maybe she should shut herself up in a very small space for a week or so and give herself a good talking to, but all I said was 'Two guys at once seems like one too many.'

"'I know,' she said, 'it's a real dilemma. That's why I'm talking to you about it. Here's what I want to know: Do you think that because I actually made it with Alex that I'm obligated to stay with him? I know most people would say yes, but I'm on the pill, so it's not like we're playing Mommy and Daddy.'

"It was hard for me not to laugh, Jamie—all I could think of was my ex-mother and what her response would have been. Of course, in her book, Ashley would still have been a few steps up from me."

"You have to remember, Renee, that according to the latest report, you were born in a brothel."

By this time, Renee could laugh about her supposed birthplace. "It's amazing I've turned out the way I have—at this rate, I'm going to be the last virgin in the class. That's probably the reason I told Ashley she should stay with Alex. I mean, I'm like the woman who's stupid enough to believe that it's a forever deal."

"I don't think it's stupid to feel that way, Renee."

"It's the next part that you're not going to believe, Jamie. If I hadn't heard it with my own ears, I would never have believed it. After I told Ashley that I was voting for Alex, she looked disappointed and said, 'But it's not like we have real sex, Renee.'

"Stupid me was confused, so I said, 'But I thought you said that you had...' Luckily, Ashley interrupted me as I was searching around for a euphemism that would replace her standard four-letter word. I would have said big event, but that's our term, and I thought she would laugh at me.

"'Of course we have,' said Ashley, 'but it wasn't real sex because I made him wear a condom. I really have to be in love with a man before I let him do the full skin trip.'

"By now, Jamie, I thought I was talking to a person from the far side of Mars. All I wanted to do was find a way to end the conversation, so what I said to her was 'Maybe you should keep making Alex wear the condoms, and since you love Ron, you can just let him do it any way that he wants.'

"'That's it!' said Ashley, in an excited voice. 'I can't believe I never thought of that.'"

4

"And so," said Renee to Jaime, with a twinkle in her eye, "I'm thinking that maybe I can write an advice column in the Adeline Express."

"Like Ann Landers?"

"Yes, but a modern Ann Landers—I bet she never wrote about the full skin trip. I suppose, however, that I should be more sympathetic to Ashley and not make fun of her because it's not healthy when people are as mixed up as she is. For a while, when we first met, I thought that she was like me—a little more adventurous maybe but basically the same. Even now, I think we have similarities, but—"

"Renee, you're not at all similar to Ashley."

"Maybe that's true, but maybe not. Because what happened to me over the summer is that after listening to Ashley talk for hours on end about all her sexual relationships, I could begin to see how many silly thoughts I have sometimes. When I was going out with Jerry Hudson, I really was a little bit like Ashley—he and I weren't going all the way or anything, but I did have some thoughts that I would never dream of repeating to anyone, including you."

"Those kind of thoughts...it happens to everyone, Renee."

"Perhaps, but I don't want to have thoughts like those again—not if I can help it."

"That's easier said than done, Renee, because once you start lusting after someone, you begin to lose control of what's going through your mind."

"I know, I know. But even so, you have to be careful about what you're saying to yourself all day long. It's one thing to be crazed by lust, but it's just sad when you sink to Ashley's level. I know it sounds stupid, but I'm being careful about what I think to myself."

"All the time?" said Jaime, who thought mind control was something that only his mother might be interested in.

"No...but sometimes--this is kind of personal, Jaime."

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

She smiled and gave him her obscure look—like she was trying to divine from his face what she should say next. "OK, I'll be thinking along—just thought, thought, thought—and then, all of a sudden, I'm like...it's not like it's wrong--it's more like it's getting to the point where I'm not doing much better than Ashley when she starts talking about...I don't want to say it—don't ask me."

"So you stop yourself and begin to think of something else?"

"Kind of. The thing I've realized, Jaime, is that life is serious business, and I'm convinced that my first sexual partner is the most important decision that I'll ever make in my life. Too many people make too many quick decisions and just go to the big event with the first person who winks at them. So I have to be thinking straight when I'm trying to make that decision and not telling myself a whole bunch of stupid things—otherwise, my life could be ruined, and when I say ruined, I mean permanently ruined."

"That seems kind of extreme." Jaime was becoming a little nervous—first there was Doreen, and then there had been Stacey.

"I don't think so, Jamie—all you have to do is look at people who have gone to the big event like it was a trip to the mall and you'll see what I'm talking about."

"But there are plenty of people who break up with someone and then find another person that they fall in love with."

"So? That doesn't mean it's a good thing when the first decision is a poor decision because a lot of times, people don't recover from that first poor decision and just go through one failed relationship after another. Call me crazy if you want to, but when it comes to sexual relationships, you'd better get it right the first time because, after that, it becomes a lot harder. A lot, lot harder."

Later that night, when he was alone, Jamie began to wonder whether his first two sexual relationships had brought him any real benefits, outside of satisfying his lust. Which...you couldn't just pretend that lust didn't exist or that it was some horrible thing that had to be stamped out of existence. No, the real question was whether Doreen or Stacey really had anything to do with the kind of love that really meant something, or were they just hot bodies for him to lust after? It wasn't like it was their fault for what had happened—it was more like they were accomplices in fantasies that didn't lead anywhere. "Dead-end fantasies," said Jaime to himself, "that's what Doreen and Stacy were."

And so...could Renee be right? His first sexual relationship had been a long-term dead-end fantasy, and his second sexual relationship had been a short-term dead-end fantasy. Was that going to be his habit, the way he went through life—one dead-end fantasy after another? A thrilling night followed by cold water in the face when the morning came? But it wasn't all his fault—he had not acted alone, there were accomplices.

It was probably only natural that his mind now began to really turn towards Renee, the one woman he had ever met who thought a sexual relationship wasn't worth anything unless it lasted forever; the one woman he had ever met who would never be a partner to anything but the forever deal.

5

"Guess what?" said Renee. "Last Saturday, I met the couple who lives downstairs."

They were sitting at the dining room table where they had been attempting to solve an algebra problem—Jamie could tell from the tone of Renee's voice that homework was, at least for tonight, a thing of the past.

"What are their names?" said Jaime.

"Mike and Linda Thompson and their kid's names are Alexis and Sam. Mike and Linda were playing with the kids in the yard, so I went out and introduced myself. He works for Fed Ex, and she works as a receptionist somewhere. You'd think that would be a lot of money, but their day-care bill is monstrous—it's over a thousand a month. Anyways, just before I came back upstairs, Linda asked me if you were my boyfriend, and for some reason, instead of telling them that you were my brother, I said, 'He's a friend, but he's not my boyfriend.'"

Jaime wasn't sure how to respond to this, so he said nothing.

"I don't know why I lied to them, Jaime. I feel guilty about it now—plus, I guess if you meet them, you'll have to continue with the lie, or I'll look totally ridiculous."

"It's not a big deal, Renee."

"Jaime, no matter how hard I try, I keep imagining or worrying that people will think that we're sleeping together."

"That must be why you told the Thompsons that we were friends."

Renee looked at him in a puzzled way. "That doesn't make sense--it would have been much simpler to have told them the truth."

"I wouldn't worry about it, Renee. Anyways, don't you feel that we're more like friends than anything else?"

"That's kind of a tricky question. I probably shouldn't answer it because...why did you ask me that question?"

Jamie laughed. "No special reason—I was just trying to keep the conversation going."

"That's very funny, Jamie—you must think I'm a freshman who's never been out on a date or something."

Jamie didn't understand why she was being so touchy. "Renee, since we're not enemies, I'm assuming that we're friends."

"It's hard for me to tell what we are, Jamie. Last year, you were my brother, but it turns out that was just a big lie. Then there was a time when you were almost like my boyfriend, and now, it's like you're halfway in between."

"Halfway in between is what they call a friend."

"I suppose, but sometimes, the word friend doesn't seem like the right one to me. It's probably only because we grew up in the same house and lived together for so long—a lot of childhood memories and things like that. Jasmine is my friend, but I don't think of you the same way that I think of Jasmine, and it doesn't have anything to do with her being a woman."

Renee's eyes were steady and unwavering. In a different, softer tone of voice, she said, "How do you really feel about me, Jamie? No—maybe you shouldn't answer that."

"OK."

Still steady and unwavering. "So what were you going to say?"

"Now that we're living here, I feel a lot different about you than when we were living with our former parents."

"In what way?"

"Like you're my friend."

"So the brother thing is all gone?" said Renee.

"Once I found out that we were adopted, those feelings went away."

"Isn't it strange how you can believe in something for years, and then, once the bubble bursts, it's gone--almost like it never existed?"

"I think," said Jaime, "our home life had something to do with the bubble bursting."

"Like if our ex-parents had been human beings and not monsters, we might still feel that we were part of a family?"

"That's right—because if you're my sister, then my former mother becomes my mother again."

Renee laughed. "I see what you mean."

"I just don't want to be reminded of them anymore, so it's like you've become my ex-sister."

"Jamie..."

"What?"

"Have you ever thought of what will happen to us if you find a girlfriend or I find a boyfriend?"

Jaime seemed indifferent, almost sullen. "I suppose we'll be like what we are now."

"You really think so?"

He wondered whether Renee was about to tell him that she had a boyfriend. "I'm not really sure what you're asking me."

Renee laughed. "Actually, I'm trying to find out if there's anyone at work that you're interested in."

"Renee, I spend my whole day in the warehouse."

"Don't they have any women out there?"

"If they do, I haven't seen them yet."

Renee was silent for a few moments. "That job is just so important to us, Jaime."

"I know."

"What would we do if Lexon went out of business?"

"From everything I can see, that's not very likely."

"Or what if you were laid off?"

"Actually, they're going to hire another guy because we can't keep up with the work."

"That's good," said Renee, in an earnest way. "We really have to make this apartment thing work, Jamie. I'm so scared sometimes—if you lose your job, we would never be able to afford this place, and once we got thrown out of here, neither one of us would have any place to go. I suppose I could return to Aunt Melissa's, and maybe you could start sleeping at Tommy's again, but that's just total desperation. So do you really think that you can keep working at Lexon? It must be kind of boring, isn't it?"

"Sometimes it is, and five days a week is hard, but don't worry—I know what's going on, Renee. It's bad enough being an orphan, but the last thing I want is to become a homeless orphan."

## CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: "A LOT OF THINGS CAN HAPPEN WHEN YOU START DATING A GUY."

1

Jamie couldn't make up his mind whether to ask her the question or not. She seemed to be hinting at what he was hoping for, but that might just be an illusion based on his desire for her because she'd also made a few hints in the other direction. Renee! It seemed like all she ever did was throw out hints, but sometimes they were so subtle that only a genius could decipher them. Probably, regardless of the hints, it would be better to wait until she had really lost all her fears about what other people might think. He, of course, didn't care about those things anymore, and ever since they had moved in together, he had become increasingly consumed by the thought of her.

He was, for instance, beginning to realize that Renee was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. Beginning to realize? It was more like the perception of her beauty had swept into his mind like a tidal wave—one day, she was just the beautiful Renee, and the next day, she was the breathtakingly beautiful Renee. With every day that passed, his feelings for her became more intense, and this time, there was some real lust in his perception. At work, his wandering mind would often go back to the second time they had gone down to the old mill pond, the time when they had kissed like there was no tomorrow.

But then, that tomorrow had come and ruined everything. However, now that they were living together, he was continually falling into fantasies that swirled around her, her incredibly beautiful face and her increasingly erotic body. The body fantasies were new—before, back in the days when they were kissing, her body never entered into his mind, not really. It had just seemed too terribly wrong because in those days, she had still been his sister. But now...it must be that the intensity of his fantasies came from being around her so much, and also, the fantasies might be arising because of some of the things that she was saying lately--like telling the Thompsons that they were friends or asking him whether he was interested in anyone at Lexon.

Still, it seemed better to wait. Ask her too soon, and she might react against him. The problem with waiting was that he knew they both had a strong desire for a sexual relationship. Jamie was certain they couldn't live this way for much longer—if they didn't find each other, then one of them was going to find someone else. Once that happened, it would all be ruined. He was glad that he hadn't been presented with any temptations like Stacey Jameson recently, but that could end any day. And then, secretly, would she be crushed? He knew how he would feel if Renee found a boyfriend—it would be a very sad day. He'd get over it, but he would always wonder whether there was anything that he could have done before she crossed over the line to another guy.

Maybe he should take the chance.

2

The next night, homework was finished by nine-thirty, and the two of them settled in for some serious tube time. Although Renee paid diligent attention to the programs they watched, Jamie would sometimes space out, especially during the commercials. The ten o'clock program was a family program that was one of Renee's favorites, and since it had a kind of soap opera style to it, Jaime could usually follow the story lines without much trouble, but tonight, he was obsessed with the question that he wanted to ask her—it felt very similar to the first time he had asked Doreen to go out with him. As the hour hand began to creep towards eleven, the tension inside himself began to increase to the point where he could hardly even see the TV, much less listen to it. "Should I or shouldn't I?" was the constant refrain playing in his mind.

"What's the matter, Jaime?" said Renee, as she used the clicker to zap the TV—apparently, the program was over. "It's like you're a million miles away."

Jamie knew that he might as well take the plunge because if he didn't, he would be going through the same thing the following night and all the following nights until he found the courage or the rationale to ask her. "Renee, I..."

She gave him a puzzled look. "What is it, Jaime?"

"I know it might seem—I understand how you feel, Renee, but..."

By now, she was mystified--almost scared. What was he trying to tell her?

He reached out and took her hand as she looked at him in bewilderment. "Renee, what would you think about us going out on a date?"

"A date?" she said, in a shocked tone.

"It doesn't have to be anything special—we could just go to the mall and have an ice cream."

"We could do that anyways—it doesn't have to be a date."

Despite her seemingly negative attitude, Jaime's natural charm came back. He smiled at Renee and said, "Oh, but I would so much like to go out on a date with the beautiful princess."

Renee laughed. "Where did you come up with that one, Jaime?"

"I don't know—it just popped into my head."

"Did the idea of going out on a date just pop into your head?"

"No, I've...it's something—it's just something that I've been thinking about lately."

Renee looked into his eyes in a searching kind of way. After what seemed like a long time, she said, "I don't know, Jamie. I'm kind of scared by what happened last spring."

"Scared?"

"Maybe that's not the right word—it's just that going out on a date with you seems a little risky to me."

"It's not like it has to be anything hot and heavy, Renee."

"A date is a date, Jaime. A lot of things can happen when you start dating a guy—a lot of things."

"So you don't want to?"

After a few moments, she said, "I need some time to think about it, Jaime, so I can't really say yes or no tonight."

"OK," he said as he moved away from her and slumped back against the couch.

"Don't be upset, Jaime. There are a lot of things I have to consider—you know how I am about these things."

"Whenever someone has said something like that to me, they eventually say no."

"But I'm not like everybody else, Jaime. I'm being honest with you—just give me a day or two."

3

Instead of waitressing the following afternoon, Renee had Jasmine drop her off at Melissa's house.

"Renee!" exclaimed her aunt. "How are you?"

"I'm OK, but I have something that I'd like to discuss with you, if you have the time."

"Sure—what is it?"

They were in the kitchen, and Renee said, "Could we go someplace where we could talk privately?"

"Alright—follow me." They left the kitchen, went through the dining room, and ended up in a small room that had a desk and two chairs in it.

Before Renee could say anything, Melissa said, "What's with the glasses?"

"It's just my new style, Aunt Melissa—I'm hoping that they make me look more intelligent. Probably not, but at least I'm trying."

"I don't think you have to worry about that, Renee—you're plenty intelligent enough."

"Maybe so, but I think it's good to advertise something besides my looks, so instead of constantly going with the makeup and jewelry, I'm trying to create the impression that I'm something more than a pretty face. Anyways, the reason I'm here is because, yesterday, Jaime asked me out on a date."

Melissa hadn't been expecting this and didn't know what to say. "I see," she said, in a neutral tone.

"So what do you think I should tell him?" said Renee.

"Well...I don't know. How do you feel about Jaime nowadays?"

"Oh, I like him—that's not the problem. You don't know how many times I've hoped that I would run into some guy who reminded me of Jaime."

"So...is it the fact that you still feel like he's your brother--is that what's holding you back?"

"I don't think so—it's more about what people would say. I know my ex-mother is half crazy, Aunt Melissa, but I think a lot of people would be like her if they found out that Jaime and I were dating."

"I don't think there'd be that many people who would react like her, Renee."

"Maybe you don't, but I do. They wouldn't yell and scream at me like she did or claim that I was born in a brothel in Pittsburgh, but—"

"Rachel said that?"

"She certainly did—you didn't hear her? It happened the day when we told her that Jaime and I had moved in together."

Melissa took a deep breath and said, "That's just an awful thing for her to say, Renee. I can understand her being upset that day, but to say something like that is inexcusable."

"That's why she's not my mother anymore, and since I'm adopted, I feel like I have the right to divorce my mother—it's not like we're blood relatives. But I still think that there are a lot of people who wouldn't accept Jaime and I being...I mean, he's only asking me to go out on a date, but anytime you go out on a date with a guy, you have to think of where it might lead to."

"Of course."

"You might not remember it, but one of the times we were talking about this, I was saying how hard it would be to date a guy that you couldn't hold hands with in public—not when everyone would look at you as if you were doing something shameful."

"I understand what you're saying, Renee, so I think you're going to have to decide whether the fact that you and Jamie grew up as a brother and sister is too big an obstacle for you to overcome. It may be, but it may not be. Take me, for example. The first time I heard that you and Jamie had feelings for each other was the night I read your love note to Jamie, and—"

"That was the worst night of my life, Aunt Melissa."

"I'm sure it was. So that night, when I first heard you had feelings for Jaime, I was shocked, and the reason I was shocked was that I had always looked at you and Jamie as a brother and a sister, and then, all of a sudden, it's like you're a couple who have become romantically involved. That's quite a jump to make in a few seconds."

"You see what I mean? I'm not sure a relationship with Jamie would work, Aunt Melissa."

"But you've made the jump—right?"

"The jump?"

"Do you still think of Jaime as your brother? I don't see how you could if you're wondering whether to go out with him."

"No...it's not like he's my brother—it's more like he's a guy I can't become involved with because he's...it's almost as if he's Jasmine's boyfriend or something."

"I think what you're actually trying to deal with is other people's feelings and not your own—does that make sense to you?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, Aunt Melissa."

"Isn't it that you're so afraid of what others might be thinking that you've kind of blocked out what you're feeling?"

"I don't know—it's all wrapped up together. What am I going to do for the rest of my life if I end up having a relationship with Jamie? Hide in the closet with him until we're dead?"

"No, I don't think so. The truth could come out little by little—it's not like you have to shout it from the mountaintops on announcement day. You could just begin to subtly show people that things have changed between you."

"I don't think it would work that way, Aunt Melissa—people pick up on sexual things like they're bloodhounds on the scent."

Melissa laughed. "True, but how many people do you really know? Now that you've talked to me about this, I know about it, but you don't see me going into hysterics, do you?"

"Yes, but you're my mother, so you have to support me—like it or not," said Renee, with a smile.

"I think many people would be like me, Renee."

"But what about someone like Jasmine—I can't imagine telling her."

"You'd just keep it a secret for a little while. You certainly wouldn't want to tell her about it right at the beginning because if you did go out with Jamie and decided that it wasn't going to work—for whatever reason—then it wouldn't be so embarrassing afterwards. In other words, you'd only tell her about Jamie if the two of you were really becoming involved."

"I guess," said Renee.

"Renee, if this does lead to something else, you're going to have to tell your friends what's going on, but I really don't think it would be as hard as you think."

Renee gave her aunt a long look. "It sounds to me like you think I should tell Jamie yes."

"It's something you should consider, Renee, because I think the two of you love each other."

4

It was a day later before Renee talked to Jamie. They had gone over to the couch to watch TV, but before she picked up the clicker, she looked at Jamie and said, "OK, I've thought about it, Jamie, and I've come to a decision." Renee was about to continue when she noticed Jamie's face--in all her life, she had never seen him look so serious. Putting her hand lightly on his arm, she said, "It's OK—I'm not going to say no, but there are a lot of things about going out with you that make me nervous."

"Sure," he said, "I can understand that."

She could see how relieved he was. "The thing is, Jamie, I don't want you to think that this is going to be like last spring. I was," she said, as she tried to inject some humor into her voice, "young, wild, and foolish in those days and said and did some things that I regret now. Am I talking too much like an old person?"

"No, I understand what you're saying. That's why I said we don't have to do anything special--it can be very low-key."

"Dates are always special, Jamie—you know that as well as I do. So we have to be careful—I want everyone thinking straight about this and not getting all carried away with a lot of stupid Ashley-like thoughts. And when I say everyone, I mean you."

She was staring at him with her intense dark eyes, and he noticed how much more serious she appeared to be when she was wearing glasses. "However you'd like it to be, Renee—that's fine with me."

"OK," she said decisively. "Here's what I'm going to pretend, and if you want to go out with me, I expect you to pretend along with me. Last week, there was this guy in my Civics class who kept looking at me until I thought he was going to sprain his neck. After class, I tried to avoid him, but he finally cornered me in the lunch room and asked me if I wanted to go out with him." Renee smiled at Jamie and said, "Lucky I said no!"

"Why did you?"

"Oh, I don't know—lots of reasons. Anyways, what I want you to pretend is that you're some guy in my English class who's just asked me out. I look pretty sharp, so it's not impossible for two guys to ask me out at once. But this guy in my English class, let's call him Jimmy, makes me nervous. He's a little too smooth, and Jasmine, who knows all about these things, has heard that Jimmy is a fantastic kisser. And it wasn't so long ago, like last spring, that I got all swept away by another guy who was also a fantastic kisser. You understand what I'm talking about—right?"

"I believe I do."

"OK, so my new theory on guys is to keep them on a very short leash. I couldn't really say something like that to Jimmy because he would just think I was a total weirdo, but I want you to know that when you're taking me out on our first date, you're basically treading on really thin ice. I've dumped a lot of first-date guys in my life, Jamie."

"I know—it's happened to me a couple of times."

"So there you go! And what's going to happen to our living arrangement if I decide that it's not going to work out?"

"Nothing—it'll stay exactly the same."

"That's what you say now, but I know how guys are after they've just been shot down—it's not a pretty sight."

"Well, I kind of think that if it doesn't work out between us, and it might not, then maybe we should start going out with other people."

Renee seemed to reflect on this for an extraordinarily long time. Finally, she said, "You mean like Stacey Jameson or something?"

"No, I don't have anyone in mind, Renee—I just think that, eventually, we'd want to find someone to...you know."

"I suppose," said Renee. "Alright, Jamie, let's go to the ice cream shop on Saturday night—you can pick me up at seven."

"Sounds good," said Jaime.

5

The afternoon of the date with Renee, Jamie hung out with Tommy. His father had recently bought a pool table, and the two of them played game after game of eight ball. Between one of their games, Tommy began talking about his new girlfriend, Bethany Laine. "Man, Jaime, she is it. I've never felt this way about a woman before."

Jaime knew how Tommy was. "She must be really hot."

"No...well, kind of, but that's not why I like her, Jaime. She just has the sweetest smile—every time she smiles at me, my heart melts. It's not like a sex smile or anything—it's just a sweet, sweet smile. Like she's really into me and wants to make my life better. I would never do anything to disappoint her."

"That's cool," said Jaime.

"So how come you never talk about women nowadays? Man, how long has it been since you went out with someone?"

"A while."

"What's the matter with you? Last winter, you had Doreen Kiley hanging all over you. I never understood why you dumped her."

"I just didn't think it made much sense to have a relationship with someone who was going to be spending half her time at Princeton."

"But she was such a looker, Jaime. I always thought she was the most beautiful woman in town, at least until a couple of days ago. That's when Bethany and I went into this crazy restaurant downtown called Modern Menu--you'll never guess who our waitress was."

"It must have been Renee."

"I mean—like WOW, Jaime. I hadn't seen her in a while, but she...I know she's your sister, but she is just—I mean like WOW."

Jaime laughed. "Was she wearing those glasses of hers?"

"It was weird, Jaime—usually, I'm turned off by glasses, but she looked so sexy in them. I was practically speechless—it was embarrassing, what with Bethany being there. Hey—what do you say? After the next game, why don't we go downtown and eat there?"

"Renee doesn't work on Saturdays."

"That's OK—we can get take-out and then come back here."

"I can't—not tonight."

Tommy looked at him with fake suspicion. "And why is that Brother Hastings?"

Jaime wasn't quite sure what to say.

"I get it," said Tommy. "You've got a date."

"Sort of."

Tommy thought that was a riot. "Who are you putting the moves on this time, Jaime?"

"It's a secret."

"What's that supposed to mean? You can tell me—I'm not like your crazy goofball mother. I don't care who it is as long as it isn't Bethany."

"No, I can't tell you her name—that was the only way I could get her to go out with me."

"You have to keep her name a secret? That's really weird—does she work for the CIA or something?"

"It's a long story, Tommy—come on, let's play another game of eight ball."

## CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: "ONE WHITE ROSE FOR ONE STOLEN KISS."

1

When Jaime arrived home around six, Renee was in the bathroom, and as the time began to pass, he went over to the computer and dialed up his favorite video game, which was called Man Against the Machine—Part Two. He'd totally lost track of time and must have been there for at least twenty minutes before Renee came out of the bathroom. In an instant, he understood exactly what Tommy had been talking about. She was wearing tight blue jeans and a blouse that while it wasn't low cut definitely wasn't high cut either. She had obviously spent some time on her hair, and behind her glasses, he could see a sexy hint of makeup--very unusual for her. "Wow," he said. Now he could also understand why Tommy had kept using that word--nothing else seemed even remotely appropriate. Renee gave him a quizzical look and said, "Don't tell me that you're ready to go."

Jaime had been under the impression that he was ready. "I guess so," he said.

"Dressed like that?" she said. "Low-key doesn't mean grubby, Jaime. I can't believe that's the way you dressed the first time you went out with Doreen Kiley."

"No, I'm sorry...I just wasn't thinking."

"Obviously," she said. "You better get on the ball, Mr. Hastings, because so far, I am not impressed."

Jaime hadn't thought he looked that bad, but he scampered into his room and put on his best pair of jeans and the shirt he always wore when he was trying to impress a woman. "God," he said to himself, "I hope she doesn't realize that this is exactly what I wore the first time I took Doreen out."

He reappeared in the living room, and when Renee saw him, she smiled. "That's better. For a while I thought I was going out with a truck driver, and those guys scare me."

"Where are your folks?" said Jaime, in a serious way.

"My folks?" said Renee, in amazement.

"Generally, Renee, before parents let their daughter go out with a guy, they want to be introduced to him."

"Yes, that's correct—I'm sorry but they had to go to the store to buy some cleaning materials and pornographic movies. It's probably just as well that they're not here—both of them are really kind of weird."

"I bet they're not as weird as my mother and father."

Renee laughed, and as they walked towards the door, she said, "That was a good one, Jaime—I almost fell through the floor when you asked me where my folks were."

"I just thought it was important to let them know that I would have you back on time."

"Smart man."

2

Maybe it was only a low-key date, but once they reached the mall, Jamie couldn't help but notice how sexy Renee could be. It was a warm evening in early October, so she was only wearing a light windbreaker, which meant...those jeans...she was just so desirable. "Be cool," he kept telling himself.

"It's a shame we can't hold hands," said Renee, "but I'm really not ready for anything like that."

"I never held hands with my girlfriends all that much."

"That's a lie," said Renee, in a pleasant tone of voice. "What about the time Jasmine and I met you and Doreen in the mall?"

"Once in a while, I guess," said Jaime, "but never on the first date."

"You're right—that's a little much."

They went into the ice cream shop and Renee ordered a gigantic hot fudge sundae, while Jaime ordered his usual, a large vanilla cone. As they sat there, they talked about mundane things, like Renee's constant struggle with algebra. On her last test, she had received a 58. "I don't know what I'm going to do, Jamie. If I don't pass that stupid course, I can't graduate."

"Maybe your new boyfriend can help you."

She gave him one of her piercing looks before she said, "Who said you were my boyfriend, Mr. Hastings? Try not to jump the gun, and besides, you've spent the last month helping me, and it doesn't seem to be bringing me much in the way of results."

"Alright, this weekend, I'll spend some time going through your algebra book. I didn't do all that badly in algebra—it's just that I've forgotten most of it."

"What does 'I didn't do all that badly' mean?" asked Renee.

"I got a C, but it should have been a B."

"And why's that, Mr. Hastings?"

"I don't know—maybe I did deserve a C. I guess I was just trying to impress you."

"I suppose that's better than trying not to impress me. But seriously, Jamie, we're really going to have to do something about this. I have to graduate in June—I can't be going to summer school because I need to find a real job next summer."

"OK—after we do the wash on Sunday, we can hit the books."

"Sure—maybe I can get a 65 on my next test. Anyways," she said, as she polished off the last of her sundae, "I'm tired of worrying about this stupid school stuff. Let's wander around the mall—there's a couple of stores I'd like to go into."

Before they left the booth, Renee said, "I know this hasn't been much of a date, Jamie--I bet you've never had a more boring one in your life."

"Being with you isn't boring, Renee."

"Thank you for trying to flatter me, but I'm not falling for it. Just remember that we're not going down to the old mill pond tonight."

"Renee, whatever makes you think that I was expecting to do that? I'm trying to be casual because I'm hoping that our first date won't be our last date."

"Good idea," said Renee.

3

They arrived back at their apartment an hour and a half later, and Jamie had just placed the key into the lock when Renee grabbed him lightly by the arm and said, "Jamie, I'm disappointed in you."

Jamie's heart sank—he had tried to be so good, tried to do everything that Renee had asked him to do. Turning, he said to her, "What's the matter, Renee?"

"Generally, Jamie, a guy at least makes an attempt to kiss the lady on the first date—it isn't good form to just dump her off at the door like she's a sack of potatoes."

"I'm sorry," he said, as he moved closer to her.

"Hold on," she said, as she used her arms to prevent him from getting close enough to kiss her. "I said the guy should try—that doesn't necessarily mean he's going to succeed."

Confused, Jaime remained in limbo—did she want him to advance or retreat, and if he made the wrong decision was she going to hold it against him?

Their living room window was directly above them, and Renee looked towards it. "OK, Jamie, it looks like my weirdo parents are asleep. But we have to be careful—my mother is a real witch with about a thousand sexual hang ups, and if she hears us smooching around out here, she'll throw a tantrum and wake up the whole neighborhood."

Jamie moved closer, and just before they kissed, Renee said, "Just a short kiss, Jamie--I think, officially, it's called a stolen kiss. Just a short stolen kiss, Jamie."

Jamie kissed her on the lips, and for a few seconds, she responded before pulling back from him. "Our very first kiss," she said, in a soft tone.

"Yes," said Jaime, "that was sweet."

"Alright, Mr. Hastings, please open the door for me and remember that the only reason I'm letting you in is because you live here. You do understand what I'm talking about, don't you?"

"Yes, Renee, I do."

4

The next day was Sunday, and after doing the wash, they spent almost three hours on algebra, which left both of them in a frustrated mood. Renee picked up their shared cell phone and called Jasmine, who agreed to pick her up in a half hour. "I just have to get out of here, Jamie. Sometimes, I'm afraid algebra will cause me to go insane and I'll have to be committed—maybe, horror of horrors, I'll meet my ex-mother in the nuthouse."

After she left, Jaime drove downtown because he remembered that there was a flower shop somewhere on Riverside Boulevard. A white rose—wouldn't that be the perfect thing for Renee?

Jamie kept the rose hidden until the next day. After returning home from work, he put the rose in a vase and left it on the table where they ate. As usual, at quarter to seven, he left the apartment and drove to where Renee worked, but he had to wait until almost seven-fifteen for her. When she finally emerged from the restaurant, she was fuming because her last table, a party of three, had left her a two-dollar tip on a forty-five dollar bill. "Morons," said Renee, as they were on their way home.

"Maybe they just miscalculated the tip, Renee—you know how difficult percentages are."

"Don't I wish. No, Jamie, it was deliberate—I had a feeling all along that it was going to happen. It was a mother and father with their daughter—she was going to college somewhere around here, and her parents were lecturing her the whole time they were there. Obviously, she must be a freshman. And then, after the two parent monsters had finished tormenting her, they began to get all bent out of shape about the food—both of them had me send their plates back to the kitchen because they said the food was too cold, and as I was leaving the table, I heard the father say to his daughter, 'What a dump—I can't believe that you wanted to come here.'"

"I guess you were lucky to get two dollars," said Jamie.

Shortly later, as they walked up the flight of stairs that led to their apartment, Renee began to let off some more steam. "When I have to deal with people like the ones I dealt with today, it makes me depressed, Jamie. I'm beginning to realize that there are a lot of people in this world who aren't much better than our ex-parents. They may not be perverts and mental cases, but--what's this?" Jamie had opened the door, and she could see the rose on the table.

"It's just something that I thought you might like."

She walked up to the rose and smelled it. "This is so beautiful, Jamie." Turning towards him, she said, "Why did you buy it for me?"

"One white rose for one stolen kiss."

"You're such a romantic, Jamie—I like that in a guy." She walked up to him, and although she wouldn't let him kiss her, she gave him a hug. "Jamie," she whispered into his ear, "I think, next weekend, we can go out on our second date, unless—you haven't found someone else have you?"

He knew she was joking, but all he said was "No, I don't think that's going to happen, Renee."

"You don't still have that Stacey Jameson's phone number tucked away in your wallet, do you?"

"I never had her phone number, Renee—she was just someone who caught my eye."

"Well, Mr. Hastings, if you're going out with me, then I better be the one who catches your eye, or there's going to be a whole lot of trouble coming your way."

5

The following Wednesday evening, after they had finished dinner, Renee said something that couldn't help but encourage Jamie, who was still worried that Renee would tell him that she didn't think their new relationship was going to work.

"Jamie, you'll never guess what I was thinking about when I was in my algebra class today."

"Couldn't imagine—I guess it didn't have anything to do with algebra."

"Sure, Jamie—I'm falling in love with the quadratic equation. No, actually, I was trying to figure out what we are."

"Who? You and me?"

"Are we still just friends or is it getting to the point where...are you, for instance, beginning to put the word girl in front of friend, Jamie?"

Jamie smiled but hesitated before he answered. "Renee, the other night when I hinted that you might be my girlfriend, you started calling me Mr. Hastings, so I don't dare say anything."

"I remember what I said," said Renee, with a sort of comical frown, "but it's beginning to seem that we're becoming a little more attached to each other. Still, it's risky to let a guy call you his girlfriend because then he starts to get all these ideas and almost all of them are bad. However, you still haven't answered my question, Jaime."

"I don't dare."

"I'm serious, Jamie. Please answer my question—are you starting to think of me as your girlfriend?"

"I guess so."

"And why is that?"

"Well, we went out on a date, and you haven't dumped me yet."

Renee thought that was funny and laughed. "OK, Jamie, that makes sense to me, but here's the other thing that's complicated about this: As far as I can see, even if I was your girlfriend, we could never tell anyone."

"Why not?"

"Weren't you the one who wouldn't hold hands with me in the mall?"

"But that was before I knew we were adopted--back then, I didn't think of you as my girlfriend."

"It's a pretty serious step, Jaime."

"What's a serious step?"

"When two people begin to think of each other as boyfriend and girlfriend. The problem is that it's kind of a rule of mine that when I go out with a guy for the second time, he becomes my boyfriend. But on the other hand, if I can't hold hands with you, I don't see how you can possibly be my boyfriend."

"I don't see why we can't hold hands—what's the big deal?"

"Sure—there we are strolling through the mall hand in hand and we run into Tommy or Pete. What do we do then? Scream and run in the other direction? Everybody knows what holding hands is all about."

"But I don't see what's wrong with it."

"There's nothing wrong with it—the problem is that everyone will assume...I mean, it so happens that I'm a compulsive hand holder, and all it shows is that I've kissed the guy or at least that I want to kiss him. But nowadays, most people are like Ashley—you can take it for granted that if she's holding somebody's hand, then she's done a lot more than kiss him."

"Renee, you're too worried about what other people think."

"OK, so we're holding hands and we run into Tommy—what are you going to say, or are you going to drop my hand like I have some terrible disease?"

"I guess...I don't know what I'd say."

"You see? And Tommy would be standing there and the only thing he'd be looking at is our two hands—like it was the most repulsive thing that he had ever seen in his life."

6

"Maybe," said Jaime, "we should try to clue in some of our friends beforehand."

"Before...hand! Do you get it?" said Renee, with a laugh. "Yes, Jamie, that's kind of what I was thinking, especially with Jasmine. She's my all-time best friend, and I know for a fact that she doesn't have the slightest idea of anything that's gone on or is going on between us. I've been trying to dream up a way to break the news to her, but every time I try, it begins to seem like my algebra homework."

"All you have to do is be honest, Renee—just tell her that we're going out."

"And you know what she'll say? She'll say, 'Where are you going to?' And I'll have to say, 'No, Jasmine, we're going out on a date.' And she'll say, 'Double dating?' I'll practically have to go into graphic detail to make her understand."

"I'll make a deal with you, Renee—tomorrow, I'll tell Tommy and you can tell Jasmine. That way, when we go to the mall, we should be able to hold hands."

"What about all the other people we know?"

"Once we get over Tommy and Jasmine, it should become a lot easier. I know what you're talking about though—Tommy is going to be shocked. Just a couple of days ago, he was telling me how hot you are."

"I know all about it—he was in the restaurant with his girlfriend, and he couldn't stop staring at me. It was kind of ridiculous—I'm sure his girlfriend noticed."

"So I'll just let him know that you're off limits."

"You're really going to tell him?"

"Sure, I don't see why not."

"Alright," said Renee, "I've just thought of a plan when it comes to Jasmine. It's a little tricky but I think it might work. What I was thinking was that this Saturday night when we go out on our date, we'll meet Jasmine and Mario at the Dance-O-Rama and kind of hang out with them during the night."

"OK."

"But we have to be cool about it, Jamie. We're not just going to march in there and say that we're on a date. In fact, at the beginning, I want us to act like there's nothing special going on between us. We might even sit out the first couple of dances, but then, later on, we can start dancing together. Finally, at some point, provided I can work up the nerve, I'll sit next to Jasmine and tell her that you're my boyfriend—just remember that the only reason I'm calling you my boyfriend right now is because you survived the first date. How does that all sound? Or would it be better if I just flat out told her?"

"No, I like your plan."

"And you're willing to play along?"

"Sure—I think it's a good idea."

7

After work the next day, Jaime went over to Tommy's and shot some eight ball with him. For the first time in a couple of months, Pete was there—this wasn't something that Jaime had been expecting, but he still wanted to go through with his plan to tell Tommy that he was going out with Renee. Unfortunately, before Jaime started talking about it, he completely forgot to mention something that was rather important.

As Tommy was lining up a shot, he glanced over towards Pete and said, "Jaime's going out with someone, but he can't tell me her name."

"It must be that she isn't that good looking," said Pete, in a joking way. "I can't think of any other reason to keep a girlfriend's name a secret."

"It's OK," said Jaime, "I can tell you her name now."

"What happened?" said Tommy. "Did this mysterious woman of yours get bounced out of the CIA or something?"

"No—believe it or not, I'm going out with Renee."

"Ha! Ha! Very funny," said Tommy.

"Actually, that's not so funny," said Pete.

"Guys...look, I'm serious. Renee and I are dating."

"Come on," said Tommy. "That's a sick joke—no one goes out with their sister. Maybe in the backwoods of some prairie town, but you shouldn't even be talking that way."

It was only then that Jaime realized he had never told either Pete or Tommy that he had been adopted. "Renee isn't really my sister, Tommy—we're adopted."

"OK," said Tommy, "but what difference does that make? She's still your sister."

"He's just joking," said Pete. "Imagine making out with your sister—I don't think so!"

"But she isn't my sister," said Jaime, who was becoming annoyed.

"Jaime," said Tommy, "if you aren't joking, you'd better watch out. This whole town thinks that you and Renee are related, and it's not like we're living in one of those liberal states where anything goes. Who told you that you were adopted?"

"My aunt—this was back at the beginning of the summer."

"And so," said Pete, "you...why would you want to go out with Renee? There's plenty of other women in this town--why pick on Renee?"

"She is awful hot," said Tommy, in a speculative voice. "Have you seen her lately?" he said to Pete.

"No, it's been a while, but still...I suppose, though, if you're adopted, it isn't quite the same thing as a real sister."

"But Jaime grew up with her," said Tommy. "You're serious, Jamie? You're actually dating her—for real?"

"This is just so weird," said Pete.

"Wait until my parents hear about this, Jamie," said Tommy. "They're not heathens like us, you know. The two of them actually go to church, and sometimes, when I come home in the afternoon, I'll catch my mother reading the Bible. It's really strange though—as soon as I come in, she hides it behind the chair that she's sitting in. Maybe I shouldn't tell her," he said, with a laugh.

"My parents probably wouldn't care," said Pete, "but that's only because they're Democrats."

"It's just different than what people are used to," said Jaime. "After a while, no one will think anything about it."

"I don't know about that," said Tommy. "I don't really care, but some people will—that's for sure."

"Don't worry about it," said Jaime. "For all I know, Renee and I could break up tomorrow." He didn't believe what he had just said, not anymore, but it was a good way to distract his friends from what had become a disappointing conversation.

8

Jamie and Renee arrived at the Dance-O-Rama during a break in the music and found Jasmine and Mario, who were sitting at a table close to the dance floor. Both of them were Hispanic, but that was where the physical similarities between them came to an end—Mario was tall and muscular, while Jasmine was only a little over five feet and had a wiry, athletic look.

"Where are your dates?" said Jasmine. "Don't tell me they stood you up?"

"Actually, we don't have dates tonight," said Renee.

"Oh, I thought you said something about double dating."

"No, I was only joking."

"But who are you going to dance with, Renee? It's kind of tame to dance with your brother all night."

"Don't worry about me, Jasmine—Jamie's a good dancer."

"Maybe we can switch off some," said Jasmine. "I'll dance with Jamie, and you can dance with Mario."

From Jamie's point of view, Mario looked a little too eager to accept that suggestion. "That's OK," Jamie said to Jasmine, "Renee promised to teach me some new moves tonight."

Renee looked at Jamie and laughed.

Renee and Jamie sipped on their energy drinks as they sat out the first couple of dances, but when Jasmine again suggested that they switch off, Jamie took Renee out to the dance floor. Freed from the confines of the table and Jasmine's embarrassing questions, Renee became somewhat wild and tempestuous, with an exuberance that Jamie hadn't seen in her since the previous spring. During one of the short breaks that occurred between each song, Renee said, "Jamie, you heard me say that you were a good dancer, but you're beginning to remind me of an elephant." Holding up a warning finger, she said, "Remember, Mr. Hastings, this is only our second date—I would think that if you were really interested in going out with me again, you'd be showing off and not acting like my algebra teacher."

Because of their current public persona as brother and sister, Jamie had been a little reticent with Renee while they had been dancing, but now he amped up his performance, and before long, the two of them were putting on a show that had many people staring in admiration, including Jasmine and Mario.

When they returned to their table, Mario said, "You two really know how to dance—compared to what you were doing, I'm just a shuffler."

"I want to dance with Jamie!" said Jasmine.

With this, Renee, who was sitting next to Jamie, went over to the other side of the table and began whispering into Jasmine's ear. Jamie suspected what Renee was telling her and was watching Jasmine closely to see what her reaction would be. Suddenly, after maybe a minute, during which time Jamie had been somewhat distracted by something that Mario was talking about, he saw Jasmine's eyes widen.

"Oh my God," said Jasmine, with a pleasant shriek. She was smiling at Jamie, and then she started to laugh. Turning to Renee, she said, "That's the best decision you've ever made in your life."

"What decision?" said Mario.

"You think so?" said Renee to Jasmine.

"Without a doubt! Just look at him—he's perfect for you."

Mario leaned over to Jamie and said, "What are they talking about?"

"Girl talk," Jamie informed him, in a confidential voice.

"I'll tell you later, Mario," said Jasmine.

Once again, Renee began whispering into Jasmine's ear. When Renee was done, Jasmine drew back from her and said, "Where would you ever get the idea I would think that? It's not like you're really related or anything. Like I said, I think it's the best decision you've ever made."

"Thanks, Jasmine," said Renee. "You're a true friend."

9

They left the Dance-O-Rama just before midnight, but before Renee got into Jamie's car, she said, "You are going to drive me straight home, aren't you, Mr. Hastings?"

"Of course—I know your parents will be getting nervous by now."

"Yes, Jamie—Cinderella has to be home by midnight."

During the short drive to their apartment, Renee was very talkative. "I just can't believe how nice Jasmine was about it. I thought that, at best, she might be like 'I don't know, Renee—have you really thought about it?' But she was like totally thrilled, Jamie. I never expected that kind of reaction from her."

"Not everybody's like our mother."

"Our ex-mother, Jamie. I understand that, but to be thrilled?"

"I'll always remember the way her eyes lit up when you were whispering into her ear."

"I know—she acted like I had just hit the lottery."

"Maybe you did."

"That's very funny, Mr. Hastings. For a guy who's just been granted your second date, you're becoming a little too optimistic. Remember, I don't like truck drivers—I must have told you that a hundred times. Anyways, did you tell Tommy that we were dating?"

"I did, but he wasn't as enthusiastic as Jasmine."

"No?"

"Pete was there too, so I think that made a difference."

"Were they really antagonistic?"

"No, but nobody told me that it was the best decision I had ever made in my life."

"They'll come around," said Renee.

"I hope so," said Jaime, "but if they don't, I'm not going to let it bother me."

"That's what I'm beginning to think," said Renee. "I mean, if your friends won't stand up for you, then there's not much sense in worrying about them."

They had reached their apartment, and after Jamie parked the car, they walked up the porch steps. Before taking out his key, Jamie turned to Renee and said, "All the lights are out—I think your parents are asleep."

"It's really late, Jamie, so they're probably dead to the world. God only knows what those two dream about—probably rusted pots and women with only half their bikinis on." Looking up towards the living room window, Renee said, "I think, if we're quiet, we can have two or three stolen kisses tonight." Renee turned her face towards him in an appealing way, and he accepted her offer. Their first two kisses were light, almost friendly, but the third one, although fairly brief, was much more passionate.

Afterwards, as they walked up the stairs, Renee said, "It's true what they say about you, Jamie—you are a good kisser."

## CHAPTER NINETEEN: TWO WHITE ROSES AND ONE RED ROSE

1

When Renee arrived home with Jaime after work on Monday night, she found two white roses and one red rose in a vase on the dining room table. "Let me guess," she said, "the white roses must be for the first two kisses Saturday night, and the red one is for the third kiss."

"I think our first soul kiss deserves a red rose."

"Not exactly our first one, but I know what you mean." She hovered over the roses for a few seconds, and then looked up at Jaime. He wanted to kiss her, but he knew it was against the rules.

"It seems," she said, "that we're beginning to fall in love all over again." Renee sat down at the table while Jaime remained standing. With a kind of frown on her face, she said, "Everything moves so fast when I'm around you. A couple of weeks ago, I didn't even know whether I wanted to go out with you and now we're doing soul kisses—God only knows what will happen next." Her look changed to a more speculative one. "Jamie, I...we have to be careful about this."

Jamie looked at the roses and said, "Don't take them too seriously, Renee—I just thought you'd like them."

"I do like them, but....OK, I better not say anything else because I might give myself away."

Jamie didn't ask what this cryptic comment meant because he was fairly certain that he had deciphered the final hint.

2

The next night, while they were watching TV, Renee had reached over and taken his hand and held it in a warm and sensual manner. As the ten o'clock program began to wind down, Jamie began to feel a kind of intense physical yearning for Renee. He could hardly concentrate, even vaguely, on the TV—Renee had put her head on his shoulder in a way that reminded him of the first time they had kissed down by the old mill pond.

He placed his arm around her, and she moved closer to him—about as close as two people can get. Finally, just as the credits were rolling, Jamie looked towards her—she was staring directly into his eyes and the message was unmistakable. He leaned in her direction, and they began to kiss. Right from the start, these were red rose kisses. About as red as red can be. As usual, Jamie resisted the temptation to use his hands, except to hold her close to him, but it certainly crossed his mind to be more aggressive with her.

He could never have described this prolonged kiss to anyone. Or the effect that it had on him. No one kissed another human being like this unless they were totally in love with the person—it just wouldn't have been possible. Renee's "Mr. Hastings" attempts to create some distance between them were swept away by the persistent intensity of her desire. On and on it went. A minute turned into five minutes and five minutes turned into ten. It wasn't at all like when they had been on the dance floor and she had been forced to tell him to rev it up—it was more like a cascading torrent of passion, a waterfall as tumultuous as any in the world. Beyond soul kissing—except there was no word for anything like that. Fierce, but in a romantic way.

Finally, she pulled back from him, and they both sat there for a few seconds as they tried to come to terms with what this kiss really meant. Everyone knew, of course. Renee was the first to move—as she stood up, she said, "I've never done anything like that before. Have you?"

"No—not even close."

She had started to walk toward her bedroom, but came back towards him. "I have to go to bed now, Jamie, but..."

Still standing, she leaned down to kiss him on the forehead, but it was only seconds before they were kissing again. This kiss only lasted for about a minute, and with Renee standing, it was an awkward position for both of them, but they were oblivious to everything outside themselves—afterwards, Jamie would be amazed to see that the TV had been on the whole time.

"Good night, Jamie," said Renee as she moved away from him.

"Sweet dreams, Renee."

Just before she closed her bedroom door, Renee looked at Jamie and said, "Please don't get me any roses for tonight, Jamie—you'd have to buy about ten thousand of them to account for that kiss."

3

On Thursday night, they made a date to go to the movies for the following night, and because Renee was working at the restaurant until seven, they went to the 8:30 show. The movie was a lighthearted comedy about a thirty-something guy and gal who worked in the same office and were beginning to fall in love. Although Renee and Jaime were looking in the general direction of the screen, neither of them paid much attention to the movie. There had been two kissing scenes in the movie—during the first one, Renee had snuggled up to Jaime and murmured, "This is so sweet." Jaime knew she was talking about a lot more than the movie. The second kissing scene came near the end of the movie, and Jaime and Renee used that opportunity to significantly outdo the actors on the screen. The movie wasn't very well attended, and they were sitting a good distance away from other people, so they were able to kiss without hardly any sense of restraint.

Finally, after the credits had stopped playing, they broke away from each other, but then Renee leaned back towards Jamie and whispered, "Let's go down to the old mill pond tonight."

4

That night, they slept in the same bed—it would have been a little silly not to after what had happened at the old mill pond. When they woke up in the morning, they embarked on a rerun of their previous night's adventure. Desire, desire, desire—your kiss is like the sweetest fire.

Afterwards, Renee lay with her head on Jamie's chest for a few minutes before she said, "Remember when we used to call it the big event?"

"That was back when we were first falling in love."

"Now I know why we called it that," said Renee.

"It is a big event—I feel like everything has changed between us."

"It has, Jamie, because now...this is really the time when we have to make promises to each other, and I'm talking about the kind of promises that last forever." She had lifted her head from his chest and was looking into his eyes.

"The forever deal," said Jaime, as he ran a hand through her hair and stared into her hypnotically beautiful eyes. "You're just so beautiful, Renee—the most beautiful woman ever."

"But I won't always be this beautiful, Jamie." She put her head back on his chest. "What's going to happen when I'm thirty or thirty-five? Are you still going to love me then?"

"I'll always love you, Renee."

"What about when I'm eighty and have to use a walker?"

"Even then, Renee."

They shifted positions so that they were lying on their sides and looking into each other's eyes. "But," said Renee, "suppose you end up becoming president of Lexon and have a whole bunch of young secretaries running around you? And there I am--back at home with the kids. Don't tell me that when these hot ladies in short skirts come up close to you that you'll still be thinking about me?"

Jamie was trying to visualize what she was talking about—especially the part about him becoming president of Lexon.

"You see," said Renee, "you don't have an answer for that one, so I want you to listen to me."

He nodded his head slightly to show that he was listening, listening to his beautiful, ever-faithful Renee.

"Here's what I want you to do if you're tempted to fool around someday."

"Renee—"

She put her finger across his lips. "Just listen to me, Jamie. I know you wouldn't do something like this tomorrow or next week, but the years have a way of changing people, so listen to me. Every time you're tempted to flirt around behind my back, I want you to remember my face—like it was a photograph. Not like it is now but like it would be if I found out you were fooling around." Suddenly, from out of nowhere, Renee's eyes filled with tears.

"Renee, don't--I wouldn't ever do that to you."

"This is what my face would look like, Jamie--only much worse--because I would be sobbing my brains out. I would be absolutely crushed—there wouldn't be anything left of me except a few memories of the wonderful life I had lost. But I wouldn't just be crying for myself--I'd also be crying for you because I'd know that you'd become something that wasn't good for yourself."

"It's not going to happen, Renee."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Cross your heart and hope to die?"

Jamie crossed his heart and said, "I deserve to die if I did anything to cause you to feel that way."

"OK," said Renee, "that's settled—I believe you."

5

The next weekend, they visited Melissa and Dave. Sitting on the couch in their living room, Renee and Jamie held hands while the four of them talked. Right away, Melissa and Dave knew what was going on with their niece and nephew, but just to make sure that no one was in the dark, Renee said, "We have an extra bedroom at the apartment now."

"I see," said Melissa. Laughing, she said, "It looks like your mother's prediction was right."

"Not quite," said Jaime. "She said it would happen by October first, but it was actually October eleventh."

"Better late than never," said Dave.

Renee was being a little more serious than the others. "Luckily, Jamie and I have a plan for the rest of our lives."

"We do?" said Jaime.

"Yes," said Renee. "In case you haven't realized it yet, Jamie, our plan is to live happily ever after."

"That's a good plan," said Melissa, "but I wouldn't say it out loud."

"Why's that?" said Renee, with her puzzled frown.

"You might jinx yourself."

"But people are supposed to have plans, Aunt Melissa—everybody says that. So would you be happier if I said that our plan was to have Jamie turn into some drunken guy who starts slapping me around and then divorces me because he's fallen in love with a waitress at a bar? That doesn't sound like much of a plan."

"Definitely not a good plan," said Dave.

"I don't believe in jinxes," said Renee. "At least not when it comes to Jaime and me. He and I are going to be in love forever. I know we're young and foolish and have stars in our eyes, but I do believe that true love lasts forever."

This is one of many books of mine that can be purchased on various web sites--currently, as of June 2020, there are 24 novels, 4 novellas, 9 anthologies, and 6 non-fiction books, so there is plenty to choose from!

I would like to emphasize that my novels are _very_ dissimilar from one another and have all sorts of different plots, themes, and attitudes. I've written a number of murder mysteries, four love stories, a gothic tale, a trial of a police officer for murder, a couple of unusual fantasies, a story about a homeless guy, a trial of a young guy who thinks that he's discovered the secret to life, a locked-room mystery, a book about a psychiatrist and a troubled woman, a tale about a student/teacher relationship, two satires, an unreliable narrator mystery, and three novels that are essentially political, sexual, and social commentaries.
