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Bittersweets

Terry and Alex

by

USA Today Bestselling Author

Suzanne Jenkins

Copyright © 2017 by

Suzanne Jenkins. All rights reserved.

Created in digital format in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations in blog posts and articles and in reviews.

Bittersweets – Terry and Alex is a complete and total work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Where familiar places in Philadelphia are mentioned, it is in a completely fictitious manner.

Free stories are delivered periodically to subscribers of the author's newsletter. Go to https://suzannejenkins.com for more information. You may follow Suzanne on social media too! Be the first to hear about free gifts and new releases.

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Author's Note

Bittersweets grew out of my love for Philadelphia. Terry Kovac lives in the house at the top of Mount Pleasant Avenue where I lived with my young family in the late seventies. The view of Alden Manor in the distance, the concert pianist practicing Rachmaninoff every morning, the young lovers having an after midnight argument on the way to the K bus, all true. The Acme grocery store around the corner, the used furniture stores, tea shop, The Craft Store and Cheese Shop, bookstores on Germantown Avenue; my favorite haunts almost forty years ago.

When I close my eyes, I can hear the train coming up the hill, stopping at the station. If I looked out the corner of the round window that was really our bedroom on the third floor and not Terry's living room, I could see my husband trudging up that hill with his briefcase.

Back in those days, I was a weaver, and Earle's apartment on the first floor was the reconfigured space for my weaving studio.

Our days there were short-lived; a year after we'd arrived, my husband was transferred to Manhattan, and we moved to New Jersey. But I never forgot that brief, glorious time. My wonderful next-door neighbor, who remained a soulmate until her death in August was my first African-American friend. After being raised in white Dearborn, Michigan, it was a privilege and an honor to know her. I cried when I wrote the stories about the neighborhood, the camaraderie couldn't be matched. I longed to tell her, but it was too late.

Praise for Suzanne Jenkins

"Author Suzanne Jenkins never disappoints me. She is the master of whichever genre she chooses. The book had me sobbing, laughing and giggling throughout."

"I love everything Suzanne writes. I can't wait to get my hands on her next one. Thank you Suzanne Jenkins."

Re: Pam of Babylon- "I cannot live without Pam." Amazon Reviewer Cristy
Chapter 1

October 1st

While Terry Kovac waited for the next chapter of her life to begin, autumn rain hit the round window. Sheets of water slid down the glass obscuring the view, but she gazed out anyway. The window seat where she sat was the perfect place for reflection and contemplation. Coffee long grown cold, stirring it served a purpose, and she lifted the cup to her lips for a sip. The cold, bitter liquid brought her back to reality.

Although nothing had happened yet, a strong feeling of the future came over her; not of apprehension dread, but something positive, of change looming ahead.

The wall phone in the kitchen rang, the appliance a throwback to another time, and she let it go to voicemail. If the caller was anyone who knew her well and cared about what she wanted, they'd call her cell phone first. Waiting, she heard the click of the old fashioned answering machine.

"This is Terry, leave a message."

"Hey babe, it's Arvin. Give me a call before noon if you want to ride out to Oscar's with me. I'm leaving at one. Talk to you later."

Oscar was Arvin's biker friend who Terry felt used Arvin. Shaking her head, Arvin knew she disliked Oscar, and the act of calling her on the house phone was his passive aggressive way to justify saying later, "I called you and you never returned my call. I didn't want to go alone, so when I didn't hear from you, I asked Gloria."

Or Laura, or Kathy, or any one of his group of women who had such compelling personalities that he couldn't give them up.

She got up off the window seat and took the cup into the kitchen, dumping the coffee in the sink. A fresh cup poured, she returned to the living room to sit at the window. Then her cell phone rang. Picking it up, she saw Arvin's number and answered.

"What? None of your other babes could go?" she asked.

"Ha! No, I actually had a change of plans. I'm leaving now. Do you want me to swing by?"

He'd never gone out of his way to drive up to her apartment in all the years they'd been seeing each other. She wondered what had possessed him now.

"No, I'm staying in today. Besides, it would be out of your way. Have fun, tell Oscar I said hi," Terry said.

"Right, I'll let you tell him that yourself," Arvin replied, laughing. "I'll talk to you later."

"Goodbye, Arvin," Terry said, and hung up.

Before she sat down again, she got a pen and her journal. Desperate to make a change, her logical thinking in matters of the heart had disappeared where Arvin was concerned, and it had been that way since the beginning of their relationship.

Brenda, Terry's best friend and also a lawyer working as her clerk, introduced her to Arvin. Both Arvin and Brenda's husband, Larry, were ER doctors at one of the big hospitals in the city.

"Let me introduce you!" Brenda begged. "You'll love Arvin. He's so much fun, and he's easy on the eyes, too."

Now, after the thrill had worn off, his charms were not enough to cover up his inadequacies. Terry needed to decide about Arvin in her life. Making a pro and con list wasn't very scientific, but at least it would help her to see things in black and white. Sitting down again with her journal, she wrote Arvin at the top of the page. On the left she wrote Pro, and on the right, Con.

Under Pro, the first thing that came to mind was fun. Closing her eyes, she remembered nights where she'd take the train to Center City and a cab down to his South Philadelphia row house apartment.

With Arvin, the most adventurous, albeit orgasm deficient sex, would be the first order of business when they got together. They did it in bed, on the floor, standing up in the shower, all the while the radio played music that would haunt her when they were apart; jazz, rhythm and blues singers, even stuff from the eighties.

Afterward, they'd walk north along 2nd Street to Headhouse Square, his arm around her shoulders while he talked nonstop, and after drinking a beer at their favorite pub, go out into the night air and people watch.

The truth was that Arvin would people watch and Terry would Arvin watch while he leaned against a lamp post, talking to her in a low voice, giving his commentary.

Every summer Arvin rented a beach house in Surf City at the Jersey Shore. "You're welcome to visit whenever you want!" he'd insist.

The first time she went down, during the first summer after they'd started to date, she wasn't sure if she was at the right house or not, because there were women in bikinis all over the place. Once she determined it was Arvin's house, she wondered why it was filled with females.

"Arvin, there are ten women here. Are they all here for you?"

"They're friends of mine," he said, stone faced.

She left after a short stay, and refused to visit again unless he could promise her they'd be alone, but they never were.

The few infuriating things aside, everything else about him fascinated her; his wit, his charm, his intellect. The attribute that really got her was so superficial, but she had to be true to the process, she had to write it down...she thought he was gorgeous. Brenda was right.

"I told you so," she'd said.

There was an exotic feeling about him, a combination of power and sensitivity, a foreign, almost forbidden look. Terry stared at him whenever she could.

Under fun in her outline, she added all the superlatives she'd just thought of, important in the attraction between two people, but superficial. So what if he was funny and handsome and smart?

Under Con at the other side of the page, she began a new column which quickly filled. The first word which came to mind was unreliable. Arvin was historically unreliable. Soon after they met, they started to date, and shortly after that they began to sleep together. Once that happened, he'd make plans with her and then not show up. He always had an excuse and never an apology; he forgot their date when someone else, male or female never divulged, had stopped by unannounced. Or he just forgot.

The first time it happened, she was mortified. No man had ever stood her up. They'd made plans to meet at the art museum for Sunday brunch at eleven, and she had dressed the part, in a summery dress and strappy sandals, even wearing a hat. The plan was that after they ate, and she was really looking forward to this, they'd view the latest exhibit, a traveling show of works by Robert Mapplethorpe in Art AIDS America.

While she waited for Arvin, Terry looked at the beautiful photos, lost in some of the imagery, when suddenly she realized she was starving, and looked at her watch. He was an hour late.

Running down the steps through the lobby and out the door, she dug through her white straw purse, another gesture to the outfit, for her phone, and dialed his number. A sleepy sounding Arvin answered.

"Well, I guess you're not coming," she said.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Noon," she said.

"I can be there by one," he replied.

"Arvin, we were meeting at eleven. I've already been here an hour. No. Go back to sleep."

She hung up on him and shut her phone off. She was hungry and she was downtown. Reentering the museum, she made her way to the cafeteria and took her time eating a delicious meal. Making the most of the day she spent another hour in the exhibit.

Afterward, treating herself to a cab ride to the station, she got the train back home. No longer thinking about Arvin, she'd had a wonderful day in a fabulous city, and would forgive him right away.

It happened again, this time because he got caught up in doing something and his plans with Terry skipped his mind. That was enough. The experience set the tone for the rest of their relationship; Arvin couldn't be trusted. Discovering it was part of his personality; she stopped expecting reliability from Arvin, and stopped making dates with him.

"If you want to see me," she'd said. "Take your chances and call at the last minute. I'm not wasting a second waiting for you ever again."

He didn't want her to see other men, but he didn't deny he was seeing other women. Thinking there might be something cultural about his outlook, monogamy in a relationship wasn't a quality held highly in his country of origin. When she broached the topic, he accused her of being a racist.

"How am I racist?" she asked. "You're seeing other women and don't think there's anything wrong with it because, and I quote you, 'My father had other women for his whole marriage, and so did my grandfather, who had more than one wife.' So either it's cultural, or it's familial."

He refused to discuss it and Terry saw fear in his eyes; giving up his other women was not going to happen in her reign with Arvin.

She added untrustworthy, unable to commit, disloyal, and a player to her list. If she was honest, even the sex was fake, just window dressing, like a stage set for a play.

"Do you really need more evidence?" she asked the air.

Standing up again, she stretched from side to side. The rain had subsided, and she could see fog rolling in from the river a mile to her west. Mount Airy had exceeded her expectations since the day she moved there from her father's house in the Northeast section of the city. The rolling hills, Victorian architecture, excellent public transportation, and diverse population added up to a wonderful community. Her apartment was on the top floor of a hundred year old house, and from the large, round window in the front room, she could see all the way to Alden Park Manor. At night, it was spectacular, the lights from the tall buildings visible from her northern location.

"How'd I get so lucky?" she thought.

A job she loved with coworkers who had become her closest friends, a wonderful home in a neighborhood with the added benefit of great neighbors added up to a great life. The only thing missing was love.

One night not long ago, she and Arvin had a rare, heartfelt conversation. "What do you want to do with your life?" she asked. "Surely this isn't your last stop."

"Terry, I love it just the way it is," he said. "I've worked hard to become a doctor."

"The job isn't going to be there when you retire," she replied, trying to get him to see the light. "What will happen to you when you're older? With no children or family around you, you'll be like those lonely men who post pictures on Facebook of spending Sunday with their rock collecting group."

"Not everyone gets married and has kids," he said, trying but failing not to put his nose in the air.

"No, but most happy people have a significant other," she replied, "including a network of loved ones who care."

"Oscar cares," he said, giggling.

"Right," she said. "Forget it. I feel like I'm talking to a wall."

"You just shouldn't worry about me," he replied. "And I have you, don't I? You'll be there for me in my old age."

"Arvin, I don't think I will be. Whatever this is between us is getting old. I'm afraid you're using me," she finally got the courage to say.

"I'm truly shocked," he said.

But she only laughed. "Of course, you are," Terry replied.

On this rainy, autumn Saturday morning, her pro and con list in front of her, Terry had a choice to make. A song came on the radio, a familiar tune that had played on one of the nights Arvin had sex with her on the floor of his apartment, and she reached over to shut it off. She couldn't live in the past any longer. What they'd had together wasn't strong enough to last.

Chapter 2

November 1st

Walking to the train Monday morning, freezing water splashing up and hitting the back of her legs, she was angry with herself for caving to the misogynistic dress code of her firm that suggested women wear skirts.

"Why don't you fight it?" her male associates asked.

One of four women attorneys in the legal office, she shrugged her shoulders. "It's not a big deal," she said. "I knew it when I hired on. If I make partner, ha ha, I'll take a crack at changing it, but for now, I'll just wash the mud off my legs in the lady's bathroom sink."

Working in that environment provided one aspect she appreciated. Except for the clients and trials, because there were so few women drama was minimized.

"I should report you for making sexist statements," her law clerk and best friend Brenda had said, with a smile.

"I just keep telling it like it is," Terry said. "This place might be a woman hating nightmare, but it's a drama free one. If there were a bunch of women here, imagine the problems."

"It wouldn't be any worse than putting up with the sexual innuendo and the harassment," Brenda said.

"Are you still having a problem?" Terry asked.

Brenda got up to shut the door. Terry couldn't help but notice that she was wearing a garter belt; it cut around her rear end, giving her a little extra pop back there.

"Can I ask you a personal, underwear question first?"

"Of course," Brenda said, sitting on the edge of the desk.

"Why don't you wear panty hose?" Terry asked.

"Larry likes a garter belt," she said. "Tonight he'll watch me undress, and instead of turning the football game on, he'll invite me to bed for sex."

"Gotcha," Terry said, laughing. "The only problem is some of the men in the office like the garter belt, too."

"Did someone say something?" she asked, annoyed. "Well someone must have or you'd never have mentioned it."

"Don't worry about it," Terry said. "It's the same old crap. We should be able to wear whatever we want, including clothing that makes us feel sexy. It doesn't give men the right to harass us. And if they're not harassing you, they're harassing me.

"Anyway, it must be really nice to go home and have someone waiting there who is interested enough to leave the football game and watch you take your clothes off."

"What about you?" Brenda asked. "What are we going to do about you?"

"Nothing," Terry said. "This thing with Arvin has no future. I made up my mind again this weekend. I'm breaking up."

"You said that last month," Brenda said gently. "I feel responsible since we introduced you to him."

"It's not your fault. This time I'm going to go through with it," she said. "It's been years of waiting for him to do something and it ain't happening."

"I thought you would be perfect for each other," Brenda said, disappointed. "Who knew he was never going to grow up?"

The intercom buzzed, and she pressed the button. "Terry, it's Vince. Are you free?"

"I can be," she answered.

"If you don't mind, come on around. There's someone I want you to meet."

"See you," she said.

"We'll continue this conversation later," Terry said. "I might be ready to meet that other co-worker of Larry's."

"You know he's another ER doc," Brenda said. "He works with Arvin."

"Oh forget it then. I'm done with doctors. Maybe I should go down the shore and look up a beach bum."

"You'll have to wait until next summer. They've all gone home," Brenda replied.

Terry left the office walking down the hallway and around a corner to the senior partner's reception area.

"Go on back," Fredericka, the executive secretary said. "They're waiting."

Terry stopped. "Who is it?" she whispered.

Picking up a piece of paper, the secretary began to fan herself. "You'll see. Oh, my God," she said, nodding toward the door.

Smoothing her skirt, she stood up straight, aiming for the door. Normally never intimidated by these impromptu gatherings Vince called for; today's felt different to Terry. "Is it a client?"

Fredericka shook her head, mouthing new attorney.

Frowning, Terry reached for the handle. A new attorney meant a number of things for her. It could mean more work, taking someone under her wing, or more competition for that esteemed opportunity to make partner. She'd been there for five years and wasn't looking forward to any setbacks.

Tapping on the door, Vince shouted come in. Stepping into the expansive space, Terry smiled, happy she'd taken the time to wash the mud off her legs. The men rose from their chairs and a handsome, well-dressed stranger set papers down on the desk, smiling back at her, the tableau right out of daytime TV courtroom drama.

The classic, distinguished senior partner was surrounded by his young, blond female clerk, two other partners, and Mr. Gorgeous. Terry tried for her aggressive courtroom demeanor, but it wasn't happening, so she just kept smiling, gliding across the carpet, praying she wouldn't trip.

"Terry Kovac," she said, extending her hand.

"Alex Hawthorne," he replied, taking her hand.

"Everyone, sit down, sit down," Vince said. "Alex, Terry is the lead attorney in the Terence Clodfelter case."

"Is that right? I'm impressed," Alex replied.

"Don't be," Terry said. "No one else had time for it and my case load became lighter when a client died in jail."

Chatting about cases in process for five minutes ended when Vince said, "Let's get down to business."

Uh oh, Terry thought, here it comes. "Terry, take Alex under your wing. Brenda can work with Paul until the new year."

Well-being plummeting, she didn't want to take anyone under her wing, especially an attorney who looked to be her age. Wouldn't he resent clerking for her?

"What do you think of that plan, Alex?" she asked, understanding Vince might take offense.

"I'm ready to assist," he said, seemingly sincere.

"Alex just got home from Iraq in August," Vince explained.

They looked over at Alex in admiration, but he squirmed, clearly uncomfortable with the information. Paul, however, being Paul, couldn't leave it alone.

"Oh, what branch?"

"Army," Alex said, his voice clipped.

"Did you practice law in the Army?" Paul asked.

"Paul," Vince warned.

"Why clerk, is all I'm asking?"

"It was his idea to clerk for a while to get back into the groove."

"Oh, okay," Terry said, wondering why Vince didn't say that in the first place. "Thanks for clearing that up."

Vince tapped a number on his phone. "Fredericka, ask maintenance to ready old Mr. Porter's office next to Ms. Kovac for Mr. Hawthorne." He hung up and looked around the room.

"Okay, get back to work everyone," he said.

Terry led the way with Alex following, listening to her explanation of what was on the agenda, and what she was originally going to have Brenda do for the trial.

By eleven, Alex's office was ready and he started working on his own. Brenda ducked in to Terry's for a quick chat.

"I was just going to call you," Terry said, grinning.

"I heard," she said. "Vince's secretary called me. But Paul? He'll be grabbing my ass by the end of the day."

"Stop," Terry said, chuckling. "Buy pantyhose on your way home tonight."

"Excuse me," Alex said coming through the door, looking over Brenda's shoulder. When she moved aside for him, he extended his hand. "Alex Hawthorne."

"Brenda...What's my last name?" she asked Terry, and they both started laughing.

"I guess I shook things up around here," he said, politely ignoring Brenda's veiled compliment. "I'm truly sorry."

"No problem," Brenda said. "I go where I'm needed. I'd better get back to my office. I'm right around the corner if you have any questions."

"Thanks," he said.

"We can review the case file now," Terry said after Brenda left. "We do jury selection on Tuesday."

For the next two hours they went over the file. At one, Vince tapped on the door and stuck his head inside.

"Go to lunch," he said. "It's on me today."

"That means we go to the deli," Terry said. "It's noisy so we won't get any work done, but that's why he suggested it. Vince is a good guy."

She locked up the files and signaled Alex to follow her. "It looks like it stopped raining so we can walk."

"Thanks for your patience today. I know it can't be easy training someone," Alex said.

"It's fine," Terry said. "You're an experienced attorney. It's not like I'm training you."

"I was surprised he hired me, to tell you the truth. I feel like I'm starting from square one."

"How long have you been home?" Terry asked.

"I was discharged in August, but then my ex and I started divorce proceedings. I was ready for a change and contacted a head hunter. The move here was easy enough."

"Where did you move from?" she asked.

"New Jersey, so not too far. The truth is after I passed the bar here, I'd never spent much time in Philadelphia," he said.

"I've heard that people who live right across the river have never been here. That's hard to believe. It's such a great town!"

"We went to Manhattan instead," Alex replied. "Same big city, but more expensive."

"Ha! I never heard anyone say Philadelphia and New York were the same. Philadelphia is definitely a big city though. I love it."

"How long have you been here?" he asked.

"Born and raised," she said. "My dad still lives in the same house I grew up in in the Northeast. About two blocks from the Tacony Palmyra Bridge. It's about as far from where I live in the city now as if we'd been in different countries."

"Where do you live?" he asked.

"Mount Airy," she answered. "One block from Germantown Avenue. Its got the best of everything up there, best Chinese food, best pizza, best libraries, museum, parks; you name it. I'll never leave it."

"I'd like to see it," he asked.

"Where are you from in New Jersey?" she asked.

"Princeton," he answered, and Terry burst out laughing.

"Princeton is as far from Mount Airy as if they were in different countries too, just like the Northeast."

"You let me be the judge of that," he replied, smiling. Scratching his chin, he looked at Terry carefully. "It sounds like you think I might be a snob."

"You might be," she replied. "We'll see."

As they walked, chatting away, the couple didn't notice the admiring looks they were commanding, a handsome man, as perfectly groomed and dressed as a fashion model, and a beautiful woman, dressed inappropriately for the weather wearing a short skirt, high heels and bare legs. Holding her arms around her body, shivering, she was definitely going to say something to Vince about the attire problem with winter coming up in a few short months, often brutal in the Mid-Atlantic States.

"Here we are," she said, reaching for the door. "The best corned beef on rye in the city."

Ordering their lunch at the counter gave them the opportunity to continue getting to know each other. Terry hated eating in front of strange men... the risk of choking, having food caught in her teeth, getting a hunk of gristle that she'd have to spit out added up to a nerve-wracking meal. But Alex immediately broke the ice by confessing that corned beef gave him gas. The irreverent admission put Terry at ease and she forgot her own discomfort, enjoying the meal and the company.

"We'd better get back," Terry said after they'd been there for almost an hour. "He'll buy but will give us hell if we stay out of the office too long."

Alex held Terry's coat for her, and as she slipped her arms into the sleeves, she finally noticed the attention they were getting. "Whoa," she said. "I wonder if they are all court TV fans."

"Is that big in Philadelphia?" he asked, letting her walk ahead of him.

"Number one," she said. "At least with a certain demographic."

By the end of the day, Terry and Alex found they worked together amazingly well. An easy camaraderie grew up between them, along with mutual respect. From the partners, Alex discovered that Terry was a formidable debater, well read and better researched, and often had the answers to questions at her finger tips. And if she didn't, would make it her mission to find it.

"My clients get the fullest protection the law will allow. But I won't lie. If I think a defendant is guilty I will do my best to get him to be truthful. It's so much easier to make sure rights are maintained if they're telling the truth."

"I'd feel sorry for the victims," Alex admitted. "Why did you choose criminal defense? Why not the prosecutors office?"

"Why'd you do it?" she asked, turning it on him.

"I want to make some money," he said, being honest.

"Well there you go," she said. "I wasn't cut out for public office, anyway."

"No, I guess I wasn't either."

Keeping the relationship professional became more challenging the longer they worked together, but an additional case added to their schedule kept them too busy for any extraneous flirtation.

Office chatter said the sexual tension between Terry and Alex was so thick you could smell it. But if there was any chemistry between them, it was unacknowledged and kept under control by the parties involved.

Chapter 3

December 1st

Waking up disoriented, opening eyes to a strange place, sterile like a hotel, ordinary beige drapes pulled closed, but with a gap big enough to allow gray light to creep in, the hum of a heating unit below the window, she got up on one elbow, and glanced around. Pulling the sheet out, she looked down at her naked body, her bare breasts scolding her for being a disgusting slut, the sensation between her legs divulging that the night had not been for sleep only. Next to her, the side of the bed was empty but slept in, white institutional sheets thrown back over a scratchy brown blanket.

Those clothes thrown over one of four chairs around a dark wood table looked like her clothes, work clothes, she recognized a flash of royal blue; her suit, and a white, silk shirt. Stretching to look to the floor, she saw polished men's shoes next to a pair of tall boots. Gripping her forehead, she struggled to remember with whom she'd agreed to go to a hotel.

The squeak of a shower faucet echoed through the room. Pulling the sheets up to her neck, she waited for the door to open, revealing who had slept next to her.

"You're awake!"

Falling back against the pillow, Terry bit her tongue to keep from laughing. It was Alex Hawthorn.

"It's you! What did we drink last night?" she asked. "I woke up with no memory at all."

"Tequila," he said, holding a towel in front of his body, but ineffectually, because she could still see his hips and the sides of his thighs, and if he moved just a little to the right, an outline of muscular buttock. "It took me a minute to figure out where I was too," he said. "And no offense, but who you were. You're a different woman with your hair down."

She felt her hair; like he said, it was down. Feeling around the bed, she looked for her hair pins, leaning over the bed, she saw familiar underpants, which she swooped up.

"Ha! Well that's just great. What the hell are we going to do now? Vince has a zero tolerance fraternization policy. Zilch."

Throwing the towel over the chair exposing full-frontal nudity, Terry gasped looking at Alex in all his glory, while he looked at his phone, forgetting what he was going to say for a second. Her eyes went right to his penis, flaccid, but impressive, and she quickly turned away when he looked at her again. Sculpted thigh muscles, slim hips, flat stomach, he was in great shape, and he had a beautiful body. Waves of some emotion she couldn't quite pinpoint; admiration, desire, love, flowed over her.

"We can forget this ever happened," she finally said, shaking her head trying to regain common sense. "I certainly won't tell."

"Forget that," he said determined, walking toward the bed. "I'll find another job."

He pulled the sheet down off her, and she cringed a little bit, not used to being inspected, especially by a stranger but his words resonated. Could he mean it?

"You're beautiful," he said, kneeling down on the carpet in front of her.

Running his hands down her side from her shoulders, over her hips, he took a deep breath.

"Terry, you're amazing," he said, taking her by the shoulders. "I feel like we really connected last night."

Tensing up, her shoulders would touch her ears if she didn't relax soon, but she couldn't deny what she felt; an intense emotional connection.

"How do you know?" she asked, ignoring her feelings. "We can't remember anything."

"May I?" he asked, pointing to her breast.

"Uhum," she mumbled, nodding her head. "I take it it's not the first time."

"Nope, I definitely remember this," he said. "You have fabulous breasts."

Caressing her, he watched her response, kissing her.

"Wait!" she said, when he started to kiss her lower, toward her waist. She pushed him away. "I need to shower. I won't take long."

"Our cells are clean," he murmured sliding his hand between her legs. "I don't mind."

"Well, I do," she said, quickly moving away from him to the edge of the bed, hoping she didn't leave telltale marks on the sheets.

"Oh, okay," he said, grinning. "I'll be right here, waiting."

Rolling on his back, he watched her walking to the bathroom, and she could feel his gaze, turning around in time to grab his towel. "Ha! Gotcha," she said, holding it up.

"Don't cover up! Let me see you," he complained. "You're so beautiful."

"Yes, well, thank you, but..."

Reaching the bathroom, she hopped over the threshold, quickly closing and locking the door. Throwing Alex's towel down, she looked in the mirror, at her smeared mascara, wild blond hair, beard burn over her chest.

Unable to remember a thing of the night before, only his semen leaking out of her evidence of what had happened, which meant they'd had unprotected sex. Closing her eyes, she thought back, looking at a hazy calendar in her head, to when her last period had ended in the middle of November. She was probably as fertile as was possible, and she'd had unprotected sex. "You're an ass," she whispered at her reflection.

A trip to the drug store for the morning-after pill would happen later that day. It was at this point she realized she had no idea of the day or the hour or even where she was. It was daytime, that much was clear. She put the lid on the toilet down and stood on it to peek out of the top window; the glass on the lower window was frosted.

"Oh shit! We're in town," she said out loud, a roof top statue of William Penn on City Hall in the distance.

Opening the door, she returned to the room with a bath towel wrapped around her.

"That was fast," he said. "Come back to bed."

"Alex, where are we, what time is it and what day is it?"

"We're at the Ritz in Hamilton Square," he said. "It's Saturday, December 1st." He looked at his watch. "Eight forty-six AM."

"I'll be out in a minute," she said, working her way back to the bathroom.

There would be plenty of time to figure out how they got to that particular hotel, not anywhere near their Center City office. The Ritz was on the other side of the river, near the university, not a place she was familiar with at all.

She quickly took a shower, keeping her hair out of the water. It was bad enough that she didn't even have a lipstick to try to spruce up her appearance. At least she wasn't in club clothes, doing the walk of shame. Her bright blue suit would stand out on a Saturday morning as it was.

Washing her mouth out with soap, flinching at the horrible taste, as least her breath would be soapy and not disgusting, post tequila, maybe even a cigarette she thought, sniffing her hair.

"How did we end up in University City?" she asked when she came back out.

"I live over here," he said. "We drank at my apartment, but I didn't want you to wake up there. It felt kinder to come here when we wanted to be together."

Frowning, she wasn't sure what he was getting at. "I came here willingly, correct?"

"We were both worse for the wear. But you said you wanted me, so yes, willingly," he answered. "Do you regret it?"

"Probably," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I'm not seeing anyone seriously right now so I don't take the pill, and you didn't use protection. I'll have to get to the drugstore soon."

"We'll go after breakfast," he said, sitting up to reach her.

Pulling the towel down, he caressed her breasts again. "You're amazing," he said. "I haven't felt a real breast in a long time."

"What?" she asked, closing her eyes. "What kind of breasts have you been fondling?"

"Augmented," he said. "You're big, but you're real. I like that, a lot."

Wrapping their arms around each other, they kissed, his hand moving across her belly and then taking a southern detour, stopping right there.

"And this," he whispered. "I like this, natural. You're a real woman."

He slid off the bed, kneeling in front of her again.

"Oh, boy," she whispered, his hands on her knees,

He moved them apart, and looked at her. "Just lie back," he said. "Relax."

It wasn't going to take long for her; Arvin didn't like oral sex; he liked getting it, but not giving it, that is. And for Terry, it had been a long time. The deliciousness of what Alex was doing to her, gentle, probing, licking, was wonderful.

"Put your feet on my shoulders," he said, pulling her legs up. "Close your eyes, Terry. Just enjoy it."

The position angled her hips and opened her up to him in such a way that when it happened for her, she felt like she was choking it was so intense, unexpected.

When she caught her breath, he pushed up against her, she could feel her body welcoming him, enveloping him, drawing him inside. "Don't inhibit yourself when you come," he whispered in her ear. "I love to hear you."

She wasn't done yet, and she told him, I might come again. Alex was inside of her, moving slowly, the wonderful feeling she had ongoing. Then he came and he didn't hide what he was feeling at all, shouting, grunting, calling out her name. Later she'd think that was where the phrase banging came from. He'd banged her with a vengeance.

"We don't have to get out of here until eleven," he said, when they were finished, laying together. "We have a few minutes. Stay with me a little longer."

When she hesitated, he took her under the arms and pulled her along side of him, laughing. Getting comfortable in the crook of his arm, she couldn't believe it. Alex Hawthorn was a cuddler. So comfortable, he fell asleep, and started to snore.

Every nerve in her body was awake, tingling. On one hand, it was the best sex she'd had in a long time, maybe forever. He actually wanted her to be satisfied first. Arvin didn't care if she came or not, had never touched her down there, almost like he was afraid of it, or that it disgusted him.

But on the other hand, he was her clerk. If Vince found out they were seeing each other it was grounds for dismissal. In that moment, she decided she'd rather discover if there was a chance for them to be together, partnership or no partnership.

Sometime before Monday, she intended on discovering if he felt the same way, or if this was just a one night stand. If it was, she'd simply put herself into suspended animation and pray he didn't tell anyone at work what they'd done. She'd never dated anyone in the office before. Thinking about what had happened, she started to feel sick. Where had her common sense gone? Ugh!

"I guess I'd better get up," he said. "What do you think?"

Turning his wrist around so she could see his watch, it was ten thirty. "We have half an hour," she said. "I'm embarrassed to go out in public with no makeup. I look like something the dog found in the alley."

"I think you're beautiful," he said, moving his arm out from under her. "Let's go eat and then to the drug store, and then to your house. My apartment is uncomfortable."

"It is?" Terry asked. "You should fix it up."

Already in love with his body, she watched while he uninhibitedly put his white underpants on and then his suit pants.

"I'd rather wait and see if you'll let me move in with you," he said, standing in front of her, zipping up.

"Alex, we've only known each other for a month," she said. "Is that long enough to want to live with someone?"

"It is if you're me," he said, smiling. "I would have invited you into my bed soon anyway. The tequila just helped me move a little quicker."

"To my controlling nature, add your spontaneous decision making," Terry replied, rubbing her forehead, concerned.

Laughing, he held out his hand, helping her out of bed. "We'd better get moving. It'll be time for lunch soon but I'm hungry for pancakes."

Although it was a little too late for modesty, she gathered her clothes and went back into the bathroom to dress. Smoothing her hair back, she was glad it was shorter than she usually wore it. Fluffing it up, she shook her head. "Hopeless," she muttered.

He was waiting for her when she came out of the bathroom. "You look lovely," he said, holding her coat. "There's a coffee shop on the first floor of this place. Do you mind if we eat now? I'll take you right to the drug store when we finish."

"That's fine. I'm starving," she said, walking through the door.

The sounds of china rattling as room service made their deliveries echoed throughout the carpeted, dark paneled hallway. Trays with dirty dishes piled up outside of rooms, and a housekeeper's linen cart stood abandoned in the middle of the floor. While they waited for the elevator, Alex unconsciously took Terry's hand.

The elevator arrived, and he held the door for her as she stepped on, putting his arm around her shoulder while they rode in silence. Getting off in the lobby, the hub bub of Saturday travelers, business men leaving for home, moms and dads there for a weekend with their college student, Terry relaxed. "We fit right in," she said, and Alex nodded his head.

The coffee shop was off the lobby, a noisy place with a line up of people waiting to be seated. "How long a wait?" Alex asked the hostess.

"Not long, about five minutes. Less if you'll sit at the counter."

"I don't mind the counter," Terry said.

"The counter it is," Alex replied.

"Right this way," the hostess said, two menus in hand.

She led them to the far end of the counter, and Terry was glad, suddenly uncomfortable for some reason, like she was dating a married man and didn't want his wife to catch them. "Jeesh, I'm so nervous," she said.

"Relax," Alex said, unbuttoning his coat. "I'm serious when I said I'll find another job if Vince has a problem with us being together."

"Are we together?" she asked. "I mean, that wasn't a one night stand, was it?"

"No, I already told you," he said, helping her with her coat, hanging it on a coat tree nearby. "How do you feel about us?"

"I don't know. I mean, we work well together. We proved that in the past month. And we..." she looked around the dining room. "We are compatible in, you know, the bedroom."

Hugging her, he kissed her cheek. "We are most definitely compatible in the bedroom."

"But we don't know each other," she said. "I have my moments. Like I said, I'm a control freak."

"I already know that," Alex replied, pulling her close. "And I'm not, so it's not a problem."

"I've never lived with anyone before. My dad is really funny about that sort of thing. If he didn't approve, it might cause problems for us because I would feel guilty."

"That's nice," he said, pushing the coffee cups over, hoping the waitress would take a hint.

She came over with the pot and took their order. Pancakes for him, toast and jam for her.

"Is there anything about you I should know?" she asked.

"You've probably already guessed that I don't like to be alone," he said. "That's a problem for some women."

"When you say you don't like to be alone, do you mean you need to be in the same room with someone all the time touching them or do you need to know they are in the same house?"

"I like companionship, but we don't have to be together every second," he answered.

"Are you still friendly with your ex?" she asked.

During their first lunch together, Alex mentioned his move to Philly was precipitated by a divorce, leaving him free to move wherever he wanted.

"No, not really. But she's at my apartment now," he said.

"Ugh," Terry replied. "I guess that's why you didn't want to stay there last night."

He'd most likely given her that song and dance about going to the hotel for Terry's sake when the excuse was his ex was going to be there. Terry imagined the possibilities and it gave her the chills.

"I meant what I said about wanting you to be comfortable. She had something to do in town today and when she texted me, I didn't think there was anything wrong with letting her use my place since I wasn't going back there anytime soon."

All the warning bells sounded. Here was a guy still in communication with his wife, his ex-wife, allowing her to use his apartment. Did they also still have sex?

"Are you still intimate with her?" Terry asked.

"No. We were together once since I returned from Iraq," he said. "It was a flimsy attempt to save the marriage but it was futile. There's no attraction at all for either of us. If there was, we might have been able to work out our problems."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Terry asked.

She wanted more information from him. They were already involved, but she could cut it off right away if there was a chance in hell that he was going to reconcile with his ex-wife.

"There's really nothing to tell," he said. "We were in a precarious situation before I got orders for deployment. The separation just made it worse."

"I'm sorry," she said. "I can't even imagine because I've never been married. I've never even been engaged."

"Why not?" he asked, looking at Terry with compassion. "I would think you'd be swooped up right away."

"I was too focused on succeeding," she said. "I think I sent out vibes that I wasn't available."

"Are you seeing anyone now?" he asked.

"I have a friend with benefits. Oh God I hate that expression. I wanted more out of it, but he's from a different value set. That's the only way I know how to explain it. He wants an open relationship and I won't do that. Open for him, I should say, not for me. I actually had just told Brenda the day you started that I was going to break up with him."

"Did you do it?" Alex asked.

"I didn't need to, because he never called me again. That was sort of how our relationship rolled. I did the calling. He regularly stood me up, too, which was another reason the relationship was doomed. Unreliable, two timer," she said, and then laughed. "I can't believe I put up with it. It's the best way to keep a relationship from going anywhere, that's for sure."

While they talked and finished eating, Alex slipped an arm around her shoulder.

"How did last night even happen?" Terry asked. "I swear to you, the last thing I remember was sitting in a bar with you, Brenda and Paul and their spouses."

They'd gone for happy hour to a bar in Center City, not far from their office. It wasn't a usual thing to go for drinks after work because almost everyone was married, and Vince frowned upon any shenanigans. Lunch was fine, but beyond that, no. They were sort of celebrating the successful verdict of a case and the requisite glass of champagne in the conference room wasn't cutting it.

"Let's take this party across the street," Paul suggested.

"I'd better get home," Brenda said, reaching for her purse. "Larry was on call last night and had to stay in the hospital."

"Call Larry and ask him to join us," Terry said. "I haven't seen him in ages."

So she did, and Paul got in touch with his wife. That left Terry and Alex as the third couple.

Leaving the office after dark was the norm now as the year wound down. The street was wet and the lights from the bars and restaurants in town reflected off the water.

"I love this time of year," Brenda said as they ran across the street. "The holidays are almost here!"

"Yippee, hurrah, oh boy," Larry droned.

"I feel the same way," Paul said. "All I want to do is get from Thanksgiving to January first and not kill myself."

While they chattered, having reached the bar, Alex held the door so they could get through. "What about you?" he'd asked Terry. "Are you a Grinch, too?"

"I don't put a tree up, if that's what you mean," she replied. "I don't hate it, but I don't really celebrate much. My dad has a tree just for me, so I have to go there on Christmas Eve. My neighbors have parties and invite me to celebrate with them and that's all I need. What about you?"

"I don't know," he said, frowning. "I guess we'll have to see."

"What about your family?" she asked. "Do they expect you to come to New Jersey?"

"I'm sure they'll extend an invitation, but that doesn't mean I have to go. What do you do at your dad's house?"

"We eat, of course!" she said. "He does the turkey and all the sides. And he makes the best Polish food. He wears an apron, the whole nine yards. It's pretty comical. I love my dad."

After they'd sat at the bar for an hour, a band started to play. The others left for home, but Alex and Terry stayed, dancing all the slow dances. Effortlessly moving into his arms, Terry didn't question his motives. They swayed together, eyes closed, and slowly, naturally, their heads came together, hers resting under his chin, her ear against his heart, his nose buried in her hair. Sometime during the first set, they started to do tequila shots and that's probably why Terry couldn't remember much after that, obviously all inhibitions floated away since they ended up at his apartment.

"Before midnight, we got a cab to my apartment," he explained. "We started kissing, and that's when I got a text from my wife, my ex, that is, asking is she could stop by in the morning."

"Oh, so she didn't stay there overnight," Terry asked.

"No, no overnight stuff. Just a place to hang her hat in between whatever she's doing. Something at the university."

"Does she have a key?"

"No, I have a keypad," he replied. "Six eight two five. Just in case you want to stop by and I'm not there."

"I guess I'd better get to a drug store," she said.

The idea that they'd had sex when she was practically unconscious was starting to bother her. Cringing, she hoped she didn't act crazy, or tell him that she loved him, or fart in her sleep. Could such amnesia really result from too much tequila?

That was when the fear that she might have been drugged hit her. Regretful that she'd agreed to let him stay at her apartment for the weekend, she wondered if she could say she didn't feel well so she could go home alone. She really wanted to go to the ER and get a blood test to see if she had any drugs in her body.

"I'll be right back," he said, nodding his head toward the bathroom door.

Quickly getting out her phone, she did a search for Rohypnol and found out it wasn't blood but urine that they tested, but that they could do hair, too. She put her phone away before he came back.

Grabbing their coats off the rack, he held hers up again. He was such a nice guy, working with him for the past month; nothing would lead her to believe he couldn't be trusted. Did she just have a blackout from too much booze?

"How much did I drink?" she asked, putting her coat on. "I've never had this happen before."

"We both drank too much, obviously. I hope you're not worried, because you didn't do or say anything you'd be ashamed of. I on the other hand probably did."

"I wonder if someone drugged us," she said, watching him.

"We wouldn't be able to walk if that had happened," he said. "We walked from my apartment into the hotel and got the room, went up in the elevator, kissing, I might add, and went at it like a couple of teenagers when we got to the room. I'm really sorry I don't remember much of it because it must have been great, but my Johnson was worn out when I woke up to pee, so I know we had fun."

"Oh my God," Terry said, laughing, her anxiety dissipating.

"So, show me your apartment," he said. "Do you want me to drive? We can pick up my car."

"Not if we have to see your wife. We can take the train up. My apartment is just two blocks from the station."

"Okay, sounds like a plan. I haven't taken the train anywhere yet. I'm excited to see your place."

"Don't get too excited," Terry said. "It's just a one bedroom flat."

The train station was a few blocks from the drug store. Alex reached for Terry's hand as they walked, the cold and damp penetrating, exacerbating the hangover that was starting to take hold. Feeling her resistance to Alex growing, Terry tried to relax. He was practically handing her a ready-made relationship and she was getting cold feet.

"This is new for me," she said.

"Taking someone home?" he asked.

"Yes. The guy I'd been seeing never came up here. My place is sort of my sanctuary." Giggling, she realized how insulting that sounded.

"So I'd better really appreciate it that you're granting me access," he said, his voice gentle, understanding.

Looking to see if he was being sarcastic, Terry was moved that he seemed sincere. Alex watched her to gauge her response, squeezing her hand. She pushed through the turnstile, leading him to the platform. "Thank you," she said, relieved. "I'm acting like a jerk, I know. I don't know why I'm so nervous."

"Is it worrying about your dad again?" he asked. "That he'd find me there with you?"

"Oh, no. My father isn't crazy about my neighborhood. He'd never pop in, if that's what you mean. I really should go over there this weekend. You can come with me if you want."

The train arrived and they got on. "I immediately relax when I get on this train. Going north just comforts me. I can't explain it. No matter how stressful the day is, the moment I get on, the minute I see the pine trees and the greenery of my neighborhood, I'm healed."

The movement of the train immediately put them to sleep, Alex with his head back and Terry next to him, sleeping on his shoulder.

"Allen's Lane, next stop," the conductor called.

"That's us," Terry murmured, sitting up.

"This is so different than downtown," Alex said. "It's still considered Philadelphia?"

"Yep, still Philly. Follow me."

Climbing the hill to Mount Pleasant Avenue took all the strength Terry had. Stopping on the corner, she pointed up the hill. "My place is at the top of that hill," she said. "Some days it's all I can do to get up there."

"I'll push," he said, getting behind her. "It's the tequila."

Teasing, they helped drag each other up the hill. The stone retaining walls along the way held back the yards upon which three-story Victorian twin houses had been built, some of them made of stone. Across the street, smaller, two-story row homes interspersed with older farmhouses added to the mix of architecture, nothing less than ninety years old.

"This is my place," she said when they reached a brick, stone, and wood structure at the top of the hill. A bus came to a screech right in front of it. "The K bus, crosstown."

Climbing the steps to the front walk, Terry got her key out, an old skeleton key, and unlocked the door.

"No way," Alex said, pointing to the key.

"If someone wanted to break in, they'd just have to break this glass," she said, pointing to the huge window in the door. "But they'd have to climb through."

She pushed open the door to a light filled hallway with original light oak floors. French doors led to the first floor flat. Curtains open, Alex peeked in at the cluttered space, floor to ceiling bookshelves overflowing, an old fashioned scrolled arm couch in front with a throw and a sleeping cat, and facing away from the door, an easel holding a canvas.

"I'm on the third floor," she whispered. "My neighbor is probably napping. He's almost ninety years old, and still runs the Broad Street Ten Mile race every year."

They climbed up to the next floor. "This neighbor is a nurse. He works nights so I try to be extra quiet on the weekends when he's trying to sleep."

She went around the staircase to a second set of stairs. "This leads to my place," she said, pointing to a semi circle of narrow, steep stairs.

The door opened onto a hallway flooded with light from a skylight, leading to a living room, a small, dark bedroom, and the kitchen in back.

"Wow, I'm surprised at how spacious this is," Alex said.

This is my favorite room," she replied, taking him to the front of the house. A large room with a huge circular window looked out over the treetops to tall buildings in the distance. A light fog seemed to envelop everything as they looked out. In spite of the fog, the room was still bright. With a flick of a cord, she let the matchstick blind rolled up at the top unroll, filtering some of the light, preventing onlookers from seeing them.

"Now we can sit in here and not feel like we're in a fishbowl. It's like this with the haze until the first snow fall, something about the dynamics of the river and the cliffs on the other side."

A low window seat occupied the alcove under the window.

"I could easily sit here around the clock," he said.

"Do you want a pair of sweatpants?" she asked. "I'm ready to get comfortable."

"I'd love a pair," he said, taking his coat off. "So do you drive?"

"I can, but I rarely move my car," she replied. "I have the bus right out my door, the train down the hill, and a cab whenever I need to go to the grocery store and don't feel like walking.

"Follow me."

Leading the way to the bedroom with an attached bath, she opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of sweatpants for him.

"They're big on me," she said, holding them up.

They were navy blue, and down the left leg gold letters spelled out U of M.

"You went to Michigan?" he asked. "Wow. Why didn't I know that?"

"And you went to Yale, I suppose," she said laughing.

"No, that would have been too prestigious. I went to school in the city. NYU."

"Well la-di-da," she said, laughing. "I think I remember you telling me and I was impressed then."

Changing into their bum around clothes defused her anxiety. Taking a deep breath, she looked at the answering machine on the dresser, a red light flashing. Pressing a button, a recording came on. You have six messages.

"Wow, I rarely get any. Anyone who gives a hoot about me will call my cell phone, she said, getting it out of her purse and holding it up for him to see. "Not one call."

"Hey Terry, it's Arvin. Where are you? Call me."

"The friend with benefits?" Alex asked.

"Yes," Terry answered, skipping through the next four.

"Where are you? I'm almost desperate enough to call your cell phone."

"But as you can see, he didn't call," she said.

"What time was that last message? He might be getting ready to call you now."

She threw her cell phone to Alex. "There's his number," she said. "Block it for me."

Laughing out loud, he pushed some buttons and threw it back. "Blocked," he said, reaching for her, threading his arms around her body.

"You feel so good," he said, kissing her. "Ugh, I need a toothbrush. Do you have a spare?"

"I have several. I'm prepared for anything; strikes, world war, famine. This little apartment is a doomsday prepper's dream." She reached around him and opened a small door under the eaves. "The benefit of a top floor apartment is all this attic storage. I have enough food and supplies in here to last me one full year."

"Let's quit our jobs and never leave the house," he said.

"I wish," she answered, sorting through a box of toiletries. "Here you go. Adult, medium, blue. My toothbrushes are all pink so we won't confuse them."

"I went down on you three times in the last twenty four hours. Do you think I'd mind using your toothbrush?"

"Oh, my God," Terry groaned, laughing.

Lying back against the pillows, Alex closed his eyes. "Now that I have a toothbrush here, I'm not moving until Monday. Terry crawled into bed with him, her head against his chest, and she felt whole and safe. There wasn't a bit of dread or regret, or anything negative.
Chapter 4

Rain hitting glass woke her up. Reaching for her bedside clock, she was shocked to see it was almost four-thirty. They'd slept all afternoon. Carefully sliding out of bed, she tiptoed out into the hallway. The rain was coming down in sheets again. Thankful the temperature wasn't below freezing, she wasn't ready for snow.

The kitchen was a tiny room at the back of the house. Stomach growling, the late breakfast they'd had was a distant memory. Nothing in her refrigerator tempting her, she'd call for Chinese or pizza later, not sure which he'd prefer. There was so much to learn about Alex. Grabbing an apple, it would hold her over until he woke up. For a few minutes she'd have contemplative peace. After making a cup of tea, she sat at the table, looking out over the rain soaked backyard. It looked like any yard in a residential neighborhood approaching winter. A few leafy stragglers left on the trees, the perennials along the fence dead for another year, and the brown grass announced the onset of winter very soon. She'd made so many plans looking out at that yard, and now she had Alex to think about.

It was time to do a Pro and Con list. Writing it early like this would help her decide what her next step should be. It was her nature to let nature take its course, like she had with Arvin, but it felt like with Alex there was more at stake.

So under Pro, on the left side of the paper, she wrote pleasant. There was just no getting around it, everything about Alex was nice. He'd managed to make a drunken night of sex morph into what was happening between them, which had a feeling of permanence about it, so much so that it scared her. If she was reading more into it than was meant to be, she was in for a huge disappointment. Smart, handsome, amenable, reliable, excellent in bed, and employed, although for how long was open for debate.

That was at the top of the Con list. Once they told Vince they were involved, it was a moot question what he'd do. Would he ask for Alex's resignation? Or would they point a finger at her for knowingly going into a relationship with a new employee when it was expressly forbidden?

Hearing movement from the bedroom, she closed her journal and got up to greet Alex. He stepped out of the bedroom, his hair a mess, smiling his Cheshire cat grin which just melted her heart.

"I've staked out my territory," he said, stretching. "Nothing like making myself at home."

"Are you at home?" she asked, going to him to hug.

"I'm so at home," he said into her hair. "I'm in danger of being a human slug."

"Hey, I'm definitely a slug," she said, taking his hand. "This is it for the weekend."

Leading him into the living room, she pointed to the couch. "What's your pleasure for dinner?" she asked. "We can get just about anything delivered."

"Give me a choice," he said.

"Pizza or Chinese."

"Chinese," he said.

She flipped through a pile of papers in a basket on the end table and produced a menu. "I'm very selfish about my Chinese food, so no sharing."

He laughed out loud, putting his head on the back of the couch. "I don't even have to look, house special fried rice and sweet and sour pork."

"No way," she said, her expression serious. "That's what I order. I'm getting three of each because I'm telling you, mine are off limits."

In the hallway using the landline to order, the comforting sound of Terry's voice droned through the apartment. Alex closed his eyes, listening to her, and a plan emerged. Sunday morning he'd take the train back down to his apartment and grab clothes and his computer, fully intending on returning to spend the rest of the day with Terry. They'd go into work together the following Monday.

"Let me guess," he said when she reappeared. "Fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen, twenty," she said, laughing.

"Where do you work in the apartment?" he asked, looking around.

"At my kitchen table," she answered. "Why?"

"Can I see?" he asked, standing.

"Sure. I love sitting in that window seat, looking out over the city," she said, pointing to the big circular window at the front. "But the view is too distracting for serious work."

He followed her to the back of the apartment and she flicked the light on in the kitchen.

"This is cozy," he said.

"I sit there," she said, pointing to the small table. "That little bookcase holds my favorite books. They smell like food now, but that's okay."

"It's quiet back here," he said. "I like it. I fully intend on moving in with you if you'll have me."

"Is that what you want?" she asked, her heart ready to burst.

"It's what I want," he said, kissing her. "Where can I work?"

"Would you be comfortable up in front?" she asked, walking back to the living room. "This corner seems like a perfect space. We can put bookcases right against this wall. And a desk would fit behind the door."

"What if you want to relax in here and watch television?" he asked. "It isn't fair to you for me to hog up the whole room."

"That TV is never on," she said. "My dad insisted on buying it for me in case he ever has to venture to this side of town. If I want to watch, I do so in bed."

"Okay. I didn't even see a TV in there," he replied.

"It's on the wall. Do you have a desk?" she asked.

"No, my apartment came furnished. I really don't need one. I like to sit in a recliner when I work."

"Oh, is that right?" she asked, laughing.

The door buzzer sounded. "Oops, food's here," she said.

"I'll go down," he said, moving past her. "If I can find my way."

They went down together, whispering, but the whole house was awake and listening with their ears to the wall on this Saturday night – Terry had a guest.

Food paid for, they were on their way back upstairs when the first floor neighbor poked his head out of the door.

"Good evening!" he said.

"Earle, this is Alex," Terry said smiling.

They exchanged pleasantries, and Earle let them retreat with their dinner in a bag. "It's nice to meet you, Alex," he said. "Welcome to our home."

At the top of the staircase on the next floor, the second door opened. "Hi Terry," Benny said, holding out his hand to Alex. "I'm Benny."

Terry did the introductions.

"Benny, I hope we didn't wake you," Terry said, worried.

"Not at all," he replied. "I'm getting ready for work and I heard Earle."

"Have a good night at work," she said, continuing on to her apartment.

Unpacking their dinner in the kitchen, they each took a container into the living room, sitting on opposite ends of the couch.

"Your TV is going to get a workout," Alex said.

"What do you watch?" she asked, hesitating. "Because I do have a few guilty pleasures."

He recited his line up of programing, and she frowned, shaking her head. "I'll watch tonight so we can be together, but I'm hooked on the Housewives. Tonight will be special because it's our first sleepover, not counting the hotel, which I don't remember anyway."

"Remember, it's Saturday night," he said.

"Yes! No Housewives on Saturday night. I'm sometimes out with my girlfriends on Saturday night."

"Oh no, so this is probably boring for you," he said.

"Are you kidding? Half the time I ask myself why I'm doing it. I'd rather be home."

Pointing the remote at the television, it popped on and she went through the channels to his program.

"You're in luck," he said. "I've seen this one."

Mentioning other programming, they were able to agree on a popular home renovation show.

By nine, they were out cold, curled up on the couch covered with afghans. At midnight, Terry got up and cleaned up their food mess, putting the kitchen to rights. She tiptoed into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash up. Then she debated leaving him out in the living room, but decided she wanted him in her bed. They were compatible sleepers.

"Alex," she whispered, her hand on his shoulder. "Come to bed."

He woke up, and let her lead him. "I'll be right out," he said, headed to the bathroom.

She went back to the living room to straighten up, the challenges of living with someone else already evident. Fortunately, she wasn't that obsessed with neatness for it to be a problem unless he was a slob. Around the office he was organized, his office orderly.

Getting into bed before he came out, she always slept on the left side of the bed, and he seemed fine with the right.

He climbed in next to her, yawning. "Jeez, I'm such a dud tonight," he said. "It must be the aftermath of tequila. I apologize."

"No apology needed," she replied. "This is perfect for me."

"Goodnight," he said, kissing her.

"Goodnight, Alex," she said, rolling over.

Chapter 5

December 2nd

Sunday morning, the annoying hall phone rang. "Oh my God," she moaned. "Are you kidding me?"

"Are you going to get it?"

"No, the answering machine will pick up," she said as the whirl of the machine echoed in the hallway.

"I forgot you have a real machine," he replied, yawning. "Did you buy that at an antique shop?"

"There's no hiding from it," she said, yawning.

"Hey Terry, it's Arvin. Why aren't you returning my calls?"

Burying her face in the pillow, she laughed. They laid in bed, listening to him admonishing Terry for ignoring him.

"Maybe you'd better level with the guy so he doesn't come up here unannounced," Alex said.

"Oh, all right," she said, getting out of bed.

"Arvin, chill," she said, picking up.

"Why aren't you returning my calls?" he asked, petulantly. "I almost came up there."

"Ha! Almost is the key word," she said. "I'm busy, Arvin. What's wrong? Gloria stand you up? Or was it Laura this time?"

"I miss you," he said. "This is the longest we've gone without talking in a long time."

"Well, get over it, because we're through. I'm seeing someone now. He's here, as a matter of fact, so this is rude."

Silence, and then, "Who is it?"

"No one you know," Terry answered.

"I can't believe it," Arvin said. "We're so good together. I thought we had something going."

"Arvin, get over yourself," she said, laughing.

"I know, I'm sorry," he said. "I'm horny."

"Well, good luck with that," she said, sad she'd sunk so low to have anything to do with this guy. "You'll have to call one of your other babes."

"Good luck, Terry," he said. "Take care."

"Take care yourself, Arvin. Goodbye."

Hanging up, she went into the kitchen to look at the wall clock; eight thirty in the morning. Back in the bedroom, Alex was waiting.

"I guess you're a free woman," he said, smiling.

"I always was," she replied. "That was his attempt at a booty call."

She crawled back into bed. "So! Is eleven hours enough sleep? Or should we try to go back."

"Eleven hours is enough," he said. "I have an idea."

"And what is that," she said, curling up against him.

"I'm going to get on the train and go downtown. I'll bring my car back up full of my stuff, if that's okay with you. Then I'd like to get into the shower with you. I want to make love to you again. And when we're satisfied, if it's not too late, we'll go out for Sunday brunch."

"Wow, that's about as perfect as it gets," she said. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"Yes," he replied shortly. "I wish I'd met you two years ago."

She didn't inquire why, figuring that must have been when he got married. "What will you do if your wife is still there?" she asked.

"She wasn't going to spend the night," he reminded her. "She won't be a problem."

Reluctantly, he got out of bed. "The sooner I get moving the sooner I'll be back," he said. "Can I wear your sweatpants?"

"Of course," she answered, giggling. "They'll look very nice with your topcoat."

"Walk with me to the train? I'm afraid I'll get lost," he said.

Bundling up, they left the apartment, walking down the hill toward the train hand in hand. It had stopped raining, temperatures dropping. Forgetting it was Sunday, they were alone at the station.

"The train's on a Sunday schedule," she said. "If we had missed it, another doesn't come for a half an hour. I hope you won't have trouble getting back."

"Remember I'm driving back up," he said.

"Will you be able to find your way back to me?"

"Send me the address," he said. "I can't wait to get back."

The rattle of the train echoed, announcing its arrival, the screech of the brakes making conversation impossible. Turning to her, he kissed her.

"Hurry back," she said, inexplicably sad.

Nodding, he got on the train, watching her through the window. Waiting until the train was out of sight, she started the walk back up the hill, examining the depth of her feelings for him. It had happened so quickly. When they were working together, she was attracted to him, ignoring his return vibe. It was all professional. Did she have tequila to thank for their budding romance?

Trudging back to her apartment, the excitement for the changes taking place replaced the sadness she felt with him leaving, even temporarily. She'd spend the next hours cleaning her apartment. In the foyer, she closed her eyes and breathed in the familiar smells; lemon oil polish coming from Earle's place, steam from the radiators. The front door opened again and Benny came in from the night shift, his blue scrubs visible covered with a down coat.

"Winter's here, Terry," he said, following her up the stairs. "I'm not so sure I'm ready for it!"

"Me either," she said. "But there's nothing we can do."

"Wait here," he said at his door. "Believe it or not, that tomato plant Earle had in back just gave me its last tomato."

He'd rescued it before Earle threw it away, and had been nurturing the last little green tomatoes in the window. "Open your hand," he said, dropping a small, bright red tomato in. "They were so sweet this year."

"I'm going to eat it as soon as I get upstairs," she said. "Thank you, dear."

"I'm going to bed," he said. "Have a good day."

"FYI, Alex is moving in," she said. "We'll keep the noise down."

"No worries," he replied. "I liked hearing you up there. And I'm happy for you. Congratulations."

"Goodbye, Benny," she said, continuing up.

For the next hour, she tiptoed around her apartment, cleaning, changing sheets, making space in her dresser and closet for another person. At ten she got a text from Alex that he'd arrived home and was loading his car. He ended the text, Terry, I love you, Alex. No one had ever said I love you.

What exactly did I love you mean? Right at that moment, it meant to Terry that she needed to be considerate of another person in the bathroom, that some of her single behavior wasn't going to cut it as a couple. Cleaning out the medicine cabinet, she left an entire shelf for him. Under the sink, she tried to arrange her very personal items so they're weren't conspicuous. In the bedroom she dug out a small round decorative hat box she bought from a home goods store that was pretty but useless. It would be the perfect receptacle for her sanitary products, the disposable enema and douche packages, everything she didn't want him to have to look at on a daily basis. Even her gross toothpaste that she tried to squeeze the last drop out of went into the trash. Alex was worth a new tube. Later, she'd discover he was even worse than she was about conserving toiletries, using a nub of soap until it disappeared, and adding water to the shampoo bottle to get every smidgen of it out.

In the kitchen, she perused the contents of the refrigerator. Thinking over the weeks they'd worked together, she'd noticed he took milk in his coffee, not cream. Sometimes in the afternoon he drank tea. At lunch, he ordered white bread sandwiches, preferred bologna over salami, strawberry jelly for toast, apples and grapes, corn flakes, and hot dogs, not all at once. Jotting these things down, she'd run to the grocery store around the corner and pick up a few things, adding cookies and chips to her basket even though those things were dangerous to keep around.

At eleven thirty, he texted that he was on his way back up to Mount Airy. Quickly paying for her purchases, she couldn't remember ever being so excited. A man who was interested enough to go out of his way, to actually abandon his single life, possibly even his job, just to be with her was a new experience.

Crossing the street, her next door neighbor, an African American woman her father's age, waved to Terry. "I'm finished with school! We're having a party next weekend. Put it on your calendar," she called.

School meant grad school – Mrs. Dell was getting a Master's Degree in Sociology.

"Congratulations!" Terry replied. "What a wonderful achievement. Can I bring a guest?"

"Absolutely! Earle already called me," she said, laughing.

"Ha! Well that's a good thing, I guess."

The plus side of her business being all over the neighborhood was that no one would be able to pull anything on her without everyone knowing and protecting her.

"See you later, Terry!" Mrs. Dell said. "I'll send you an Evite."

Dragging her bags of groceries back up the stairs was the final workout of the day until Alex arrived. She'd help him empty his car, wondering what he brought along.

As it turned out, he'd never unpacked when he moved into the apartment, and his sedan was packed with cardboard boxes full of his books and mementoes, including photo albums and things from his Army days that he'd wanted to throw in the trash, but had never gotten around to it.

"This is just part of it," he said. "I'm going to get a storage locker."

There's no need for that," she said. "I have access to the basement and it's nice and dry. Perfect for storage."

"Thank you," he said, leaning over to kiss her.

A half hour later, his car was empty. Boxes of books stacked in the living room awaited bookshelves. "We'll shop at the resale shops along Germantown Avenue," she said. "A bigger table and another chair for the kitchen is called for."

"And don't forget a recliner," he said.

"We have to spring for a new one of those," she replied.

"So are you ready for our shower and lovemaking? I've thought of little else since I waved goodbye down at the train."

Leaning against him, she sighed with pleasure. "Sure. We should take care of important business first," she said, thinking there was plenty of time for shopping and brunch. "Come with me."

Taking him by the hand, she led him to the bathroom. A freshly scrubbed out tub, fluffy towels, and candles waited.

"I'm going to ravish you," she whispered, catching him off guard, and he giggled, as excited as a schoolboy having his first chance at love with a girl.

"I was going to ravish you," he replied.

"You first," she said, the stern schoolmarm. "I'll undress you."

"Oh boy," he moaned. "I'm not sure I'll last."

"You'll be fine," she said, pulling his t-shirt over his head.

Reaching into the tub, she turned the water on to warm up. "How hot do you like it?" she asked.

"Just warm enough. Not too hot," he said.

She could tell he was excited, and a little nervous. "Now, the pants have to come off," she said, pointing. "I want to watch."

He untied the string and slid her Michigan sweat pants off over his hips.

"Step into the tub," she said, taking his hand.

"Wait, aren't you going to join me?" he asked.

"I will, but I'm going to give you a bath, first," she said, keeping her voice as low as she could, thinking Benny probably had a glass to his ceiling.

He stepped into the tub and sat down, moaning as the warm water flowed over him. "I haven't taken a bath in years," he said. "This feels wonderful."

"Well, just wait," she said, turning the water off.

She had the radio on low, just enough to drown out any of their louder moans, but not so intrusive as to be distracting.

"What are you going to do to me?" he asked, obviously a little anxious.

Kneeling on the bath mat, she took a bar of soap and worked it into a lather, and in turn went to work on him. Soaping up his chest and abdomen, she slid her hands up over his shoulders, and then down a little further below his waist. Then over his arms and back, and down, finally stopping, and concentrating on that part of him, until he was right on the edge, begging her to stop before it was too late.

"Let go," she whispered. "Let it come. I want to watch you."

He did, shuddering, moaning in pleasure until he was spent. He laid back, eyes closed, flushed, letting her rinse the soap off his body, she'd unplugged the drain and had the hand held shower on, gently spraying warm water over him.

When he could finally talk, he opened his eyes, and started laughing. "Are you kidding me?" he said.

"What?" she asked smiling.

"I feel like a selfish pig," he said.

"That wasn't my intention, I can assure you," she giggled. "I wanted you to feel as good as you've been making me feel."

"Well, you succeeded," he replied. "But what about you?"

"I'm still satisfied from the last time we did it.Let's go to brunch before it gets too late. Then, when we get back home, and you're recovered, we can do it again."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm positive," she said, handing him a large fluffy bath towel.

She held out a hand and he took it, standing up and they held each other.

"This is the most fun I've had in a bathtub since I was six."

"That's the idea. I wanted you to relax."

"I'm relaxed," he assured her. "I'm ready to take you to brunch. Do you have a place in mind?"

"I do, and then I want to take you to my favorite used furniture store. You need bookcases to stash your things."

Soon, they were in his car, on their way to brunch. The hostess led them to a cozy table in back. Alex held Terry's chair, and pushed it in for her. The act was so touching, she didn't know what to think of it, imagining being married to someone like this...married? You're getting carried away, she thought.

He was talking to her, telling her about his apartment. "It's almost empty. I can't believe my life is contained in eight cardboard boxes."

"Are you going to keep it?" she asked.

"My apartment? No, if it's okay with you. I'm paid up until the fifteenth."

"Oh boy, Christmas is right around the corner then. I think I'll make an effort this year."

"Why?" he asked, sipping coffee. "Because of me?"

"Because of you. Having someone else around just makes it easier."

"I agree," he said, taking her hand. "We'll go to cut down a tree together..."

"Ha! That means I'll finally agree to take ornaments from my mother's stash."

"Was she trying to get you to take them?"

"She died two years ago. It was my father who's after me. 'What do I need with boxes and boxes of these things?' My dad's Jewish, you see. My mom loved Christmas and my poor father was surrounded by nativity scenes from Thanksgiving until January 15th.

"For the last two years, he continued to put up a tree. So you can see why I have to go. He's making the effort for me."

"How sad," Alex said. "We should definitely go to see your dad. If you're about done there, we can go now."  
"Really?" she asked. "It would be so nice. He'll be so surprised. I'll text him; even my old dad text messages."

In less than a minute, he answered. Come over.

"Ha! He has spoken," she said, repeating his answer.

"Let's go!"

Putting money down for a tip, Alex left more than was necessary, and she liked that. Something to add to the pro list; he was generous.

"I should pay," she said.

"No, you shouldn't. We're staying in your place. Until we work out an arrangement, I'll pay for our meals out, alright? I can't stand men who sit back and let women pay the bill at a restaurant."

"Ew, looks like I hit a nerve. I've been wondering if there were any Achilles heels in there."

"Oh yes, I have a few," he said. "You have to lead the way. I have no idea where we're going."

"It's all back roads. Only ten miles," she said. "Do you want me to drive?"

"Sure," he said, throwing her the keys. "I love to be driven."

"Is that right? When your ship comes in will you have a chauffeur?"

"Definitely," he said. "And a housekeeper."

"I'd have a chef," Terry said. "And a gardener."

"And then what would you do?" he asked.

"I'd make stuff. Dolls, and quilts."

"Do you do that now?" he asked.

"No. No time for anything but work and a little relaxation. You see what our work load is like during the week. It's a steady, frequent twelve hour day, five days a week. But I'd like to learn. What about you? Do you have any hobbies?"

"I like to read," he said. "I like American history."

"Is that how law came about for you?" she asked.

"Yes, it really is. Good observation," he said, leaning over to kiss her. "When I retire I'm going to learn to make my own tiles, too. How nerdy is that?"

"Like pottery? Like Moravian Tiles?" Terry asked. "That's my favorite place to visit, the Moravian Tile works."

"We'll have to make a point to go there soon," Alex said.

"Oh look! That store is open. Let's stop and see if they have any bookshelves. I know what I want, too. Barrister cases."

She pulled up right in front of the store and turned the car off.

"Aren't they expensive?" he asked.

"So what? You see my place. It's not like I've indulged myself with great furniture. I want something nice in there for your stuff."

"It's just my stuff," Alex said. "Don't get carried away now, Terry."

"I won't," she said. "Follow me."

They went into the dusty store and before they knew it, they were the proud owners of four stackable oak barrister cases and an old leather wing backed chair with a foot stool.

"Will you be okay with this instead of a recliner?" Terry asked.

"This is grand," he said, running his hand along the leather. "I'll be fine with it."

They split the cost of the furniture, half on his Visa, half on her American Express. The owner would deliver later that evening, after he closed up and had dinner with his wife.

"Wow! I feel so lucky!" Terry said, pressing the unlock button on the key fob. "Ask and ye shall receive, that your joy may be full."

"Who said that?" Alex asked.

"Jesus did! Where have you been?" she answered, buckling her seat belt.

"Oh, right, sorry," he said and they laughed. "I used to go to Sunday school."

"Well, you know I did. Another thing my father allowed."

Pointing out historic landmarks on the way to the northeast part of the city reinforced to Terry how much she loved Philadelphia.

"Are you sure about leaving New Jersey permanently?" she asked.

"I already did months ago," he reminded her. "I like it here fine."

Reaching her father's neighborhood, she turned the corner, and on the porch of his home, standing nearly at attention was Harry Kovac. "Oh, my God, there's dad, looking like he's waiting for the firing squad."

"Did you tell him I'm ex-Army?"

"I did. Sorry. I knew he'd love it because he's a veteran. He'll talk your ear off."

"As long as he does all the talking, I'm good," Alex said. "I hate talking about Iraq."

"Okay. I'm learning an awful lot today."

"I talk too much," Alex said.

"You don't," Terry answered. "Don't stop talking."

She pulled into the driveway, behind her father's car, waving at him.

"Hello," Alex called out, stepping out of the car.

The introduction went well, Harry's initial evaluation of Alex a good one.

"Let's go inside," Harry said. "The neighbors are probably recording this."

"A new face around Levitt Street is an exciting event," Terry said. "The phone lines are hot this afternoon!"

"Come in, come in," Harry said, leading the way to the kitchen. "I ran up to Eagles Bakery, and got whipped cream pastries."

"My favorite. We just ate, but too bad," she said, laughing.

"Where'd you go?"

"Right on Germantown Avenue. That waffle place," she answered.

"That's good," he said, nodding his head. "But this is better."

He untied the string around a white pastry box and opened the lid. Alex and Terry peeked inside. "I'm definitely going to the gym this week," Alex said.

"I have fresh coffee, too. Sit down, sit down."

The next minutes were spent with Terry getting old-fashioned china cups and saucers and dessert plates out of the china closet, and Harry pouring coffee. "This will put hair on our chests," she said, taking a sip. "My dad doesn't play around."

Moans of culinary appreciation filled the kitchen as they ate, the sounds of cutlery on china ringing out. "This is amazing," Terry said. "Their pastry is so tender. I could eat two of them, but I won't."

"You only live once," Harry said. "Your mother denied herself dessert for most of her life and she died anyway."

"I'm sorry, Dad," Terry said, saddened. "Sixty-five is young to die these days."

"It's very young," Alex said. "I'm so sorry."

"Yes, well don't let it ruin your appetite. I have kielbasa, too."

"Dad, no!" Terry cried, fresh kielbasa her favorite. "I'll take it home. I can't eat another bite."

The next half hour was spent with Harry Kovac asking questions about Alex, using restraint for a change so that Terry could honestly say she wasn't embarrassed by him one time that afternoon. Helping him clean up their snack mess, she then set about packaging up the kielbasa and rye bread; they'd have it later.

"Dad, you should know this. Alex is staying by me," she said when Alex excused himself to use the bathroom.

"He is?" he asked, rubbing his chin. "But don't you get married then?"

"We want to be together, but we don't know each other well enough yet," she explained.

"Well, you know what I want to say to that, but I won't. You're a big girl, you're smart, too. Alex seems smart. I will try to trust you."

Kissing his cheek, Terry smiled. "Thank you, Dad. I love you."

Gathering up their packages, it was time to go. "We'd better get out of the hood before the sun goes down," she said, teasing.

"What hood? You live in the hood, not me. Oh, before I forget, take this to Earle." He held up a canvas bag of tubes of paint. "I found this at a garage sale yesterday. I threw away the dried out tubes. There are brushes in there, too."

"Thanks, Dad," she said.

They stashed their goodies away in the trunk and got in the car, waving as Terry put it in reverse and rolled down the driveway.

"That was nice," Alex said. "He's a genuine guy."

"That's a good word for him. He's that alright."

Driving back to Mount Airy as the sun set, everything that had happened that weekend was coming to a finish; they'd moved in together and now they were going to have to face the music at work.

"What if we don't tell anyone we're together at the office?" she asked.

"You mean pretend I'm not crazy about you?" Alex said, grimacing. "No way.

"Yes, I guess it's not realistic," she admitted. "Oh, I'm getting nervous!"

"That's okay. Look, we have a lot to do tonight. Our furniture is coming, I have to do my nightly routine, and that will either give you a good laugh or ammunition to throw me out."

"Oh no, what do you do?" she asked, laughing.

"Well, I have to pluck my eyebrows so they don't become unis. That's a must every Sunday night. Then I clip my nails. You might ask me to leave when this procedure takes place. It's not pretty. Then, I have to lay my clothes out. If I don't do it the night before, I'll take forever getting the tie right. The shoes need to be polished."

"Even if there's snow?" she asked, laughing.

"Oh yes, because I wear galoshes if there's snow or rain."

"The things called rubbers?" she asked, laughing hysterically. "My dad used to wear those! Do they even make them anymore or did you have to find them on eBay?"  
"Of course, they make them. All the better dressed men wear them," he said, his poker face in place.

"I have to take a lint roller to my overcoat, make sure my socks match, there's an entire list I have to go through to make sure I'm put together."

"Wow, I had no idea," Terry said, smiling.

"Don't you lay out everything the night before?" he asked as they pulled into her driveway.

"Not really. My closet is organized so I wear something different everyday. I have enough for ten days. I can wear a suit more than once before it goes to the cleaners. Each week I take four suits and five shirts to be cleaned. That way, I rotate everything. It's very methodical."

"If people only knew how much effort it took for us to look as good as we do for court," he replied, holding out his hand.

They high-fived, still laughing. Throwing him the key, he unlocked the trunk and they emptied out all the goodies from her father just as the furniture truck pulled up.

Benny came home just then, and between the four of them, everything came up the stairs with no mishaps.

"I have fresh kielbasa from Tacony if you'd like to have a bite to eat," Terry said, and Earle and Benny readily agreed, as did the furniture guy.

At seven, everyone left with thanks and promises to get together again soon, probably the next week at Mrs. Dell's graduation party.

"Now I feel like unpacking my boxes," Alex said.

"We can absolutely start unpacking," Terry replied. "What else would we do? It'll be fun to see your things."

They never got beyond the first box because Alex pulled out an album of baby pictures his mother had made him take.

"They were downsizing," he said. "Moving to an over fifty five place, so they gave me and my siblings all our baby books and photo albums. I almost threw them away when Jennifer, that's my ex, said she wanted a divorce. Then I thought that someday I might have kids who would want to know about my life. So I kept the albums."

"You've never mentioned your ex's name before," Terry said. "Was it difficult when she told you she didn't want to be married?"

"Not at all. I kind of expected it. We emailed while I was deployed and I could tell there was a change about three months before I got home."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. So it wasn't that long ago," Terry said, her first inkling of fear that he might be on the rebound occurring to her.

"No, it really wasn't," he answered. "I've been home for almost five months, so figure it out. It's been less than a year."

Reaching for his hand, Terry could see he was upset. How long did it take for a man to get over losing his wife?

"Sit in your chair," she said, leading him to his new/old wing chair.

She sat by his knees on the ottoman, still holding his hand. "You were married two years?"

"Yep, only two," he said. "We got married and a year after I was deployed."

"Wow, a lot of pain in a short amount of time," Terry said, sympathetic, frightened, wondering what this was going to mean for her relationship with him.

"What was it like over there?" she asked, her hand on his knee.

He ignored Terry's question, reaching for her, pulling her up on his lap, and began to kiss her, but there was something urgent about it, desperate almost, that scared her even more. Carrying her into the bedroom, he didn't stop kissing her as he placed her on the bed, pulling her shirt up, kissing her breasts, as though his mouth had to keep contact with her skin. She let him do it, understanding that something was happening that he couldn't put into words, something that her question about what it was like for him in Iraq set into motion.

They made love again; this time it was making love. He murmured things to her, how much he loved her body, and when she cried out for him, he pulled her over on top of him, and her body swallowed his, all warmth and liquid velvet.

Smoothing her hair off her face, he stared into her eyes. "I love you so much Terry." Then, grabbing her hips, he whispered, "Don't move, you have me right on the edge."

But it was too late, she could see it and molded her body to his as he cried out, holding her so close that it took her a moment to grasp that he was crying.

Chapter 6

December 3rd

The Monday morning lament; why does time go so fast when you're not at work? They'd taken showers the night before, so the rush to get ready wasn't going to be as hectic as Terry had feared. They'd figured it all out when they were getting ready for bed.

"I'll put my makeup on out here," she'd said, pointing to the antique vanity and bench that had belonged to her mother.

"Are you sure?" Alex asked.

"It's what it's for," she explained. "I'll brush my teeth and wash my face and come out here. It'll be fine."

"I have to shave in the morning or I'll look like a Billy goat."

"What?" she asked, slapping her leg. "I never heard of that comparison."

"Trust me," he replied. "I'll prove it to you next weekend."

"Did you shave today?"

"I did," he said. "It was the last thing I did at my apartment."

"What about the car? Do you want to drive or should we take the train?"

"That's up to you," Terry said. "If you want to stop by your apartment after work and get the rest of your stuff, maybe we could drive."

"Good point," he said. "How'd I live without you?"

"Please," she said, but it made her happy. "You were just fine before I came along."

"No, actually I wasn't," he said. "But it's not something I think we should start talking about right before bedtime."

"Gotcha," she said. "I have a few of those admissions to make myself."

"Okay, we'll have confession time next Friday night."

"Without tequila," Terry said.

"Definitely without tequila. But can we have some later?"

"Absolutely. But not to the point of amnesia," she replied. "I'm still wondering what we told each other two nights ago that was so profound that we'd end up living together."

"Ha! Me, too," he said, pulling her close. "I'm serious. How'd I live without you?"

"I know. I wonder the same thing about myself. You are what I've been waiting for," she said. "If you don't come along, I'm alone the rest of my life."

"Wow, that's sad," he said. "I'm not that great of a find."

"You are too!" she said. "So are we going to just go into work tomorrow and pretend everything's status quo unless someone asks us differently?"

"Yes," he said. "We'll be professional, I mean I'm not going to throw you on the desk even if I want to. But if someone asks or if anything is said, we can be honest about it and then face whatever Vince has for us. Like I said, I'll find another job if I have to."

"I'm glad you're almost on your own," she said. "Your ninety days will be up. Brenda will come back to me, and you'll start your own cases."

"I'm not so sure I want to do that," he said. "I think we work like a well oiled machine. Why ruin it?"

"What we should do is leave and start our own defense practice," she said. "It's something I've wanted to do for a while. Not that Vince isn't great, but I doubt if he or Paul is ready to make a woman a partner, and I'm not going to be satisfied without it for much longer."

"Wow. I never thought about going out on my own," he said.

"Let's just play it by ear. Vince may force our hands. If he does, bye bye Vinny."

Grabbing her wind up clock, she set the alarm. "How long do you need to get ready?" she asked.

"Half an hour tops. But I like to have coffee before I leave the house," he said. "Get the juices going, so to speak."

"Right, me too. If we give ourselves an hour to get to work so we're not rushing in right at nine, we should get up at seven," Terry stated, winding the clock. "Does that do it for you?"

"Seven is perfect. And we'll drive so we can have coffee in the car. This is great!" Then, he rolled over to face her. "So, are you going to cuddle with me?" he asked, a silly grin on his face because he already knew she liked her space.

"Yes, dear," she drawled. "I'll start out cuddling, but you know I have to turn on my side."

They began their life together in this way, holding each other, and then after Alex's breathing settled down, and she thought he might be sleeping, she turned from him, wide awake, frightened. Nothing had been said yet, but she was sure he was suffering after the deployment to Iraq. Whether it stemmed from the actual tour, or because of what had transpired once he got home, his soon-to-be ex Jennifer asking for a divorce, Terry knew there would be something they had to work through, hopefully, whatever it was soon to be exposed.

***

The bells of her windup alarm clock jangled both their eardrums and their nerves at seven Monday morning.

"You go first," Alex moaned.

Terry rolled out of bed, yawning, wishing there were two bathrooms in the apartment. Makeup waiting on the vanity, she soon finished in the bathroom, and came out, hoping the few minutes she'd left the window open would be enough to air it out.

"It's all yours," she said, embarrassed. "Hold your breath."

"Mine will soon infiltrate the whole apartment," he said. "No worries."

"Courtesy flush," she said, unable to keep from laughing.

It was going to be okay.

Sitting at her mother's vanity to put her makeup on and do her hair was nice after all. She went into the kitchen to wash her hands before getting dressed, hating to smear skin-colored makeup on the buttonholes of her shirt. Standing in the closet doorway, she chose an eggplant colored wool suit with a short pleated skirt and a long, tight fitted jacket. She didn't wear it much because Brenda told her she overheard Paul tell Vince he "wanted to jump Terry whenever she wears that purple skirt. She looks like a yummy cheerleader."

Slipping knee length socks over her nylons, and knee-high boots over those, she was ready for a winter's walk to the train. Her heels were already in her briefcase, which sat in the hallway, untouched since Friday afternoon. She'd have to hustle. Fortunately, she had a new case to work on, a fresh start. Still not worried about Vince, they would be professional in the office and there shouldn't be any problem.

Sitting at her regular spot at the window with a cup of coffee, Terry waited for the toaster to pop up, and for Alex to get dressed.

"I'm ready!" he said, appearing in the doorway with his tie tucked into his shirt. He grabbed a paper towel and put it in his collar, like a bib. "I know this is necessary from experience."

Bending over, he kissed her, and she closed her eyes, smelling aftershave, deodorant, toothpaste, and the nerve pathway switched to another, private sensory mode which ended up in between her legs. "You might have to reconsider your aftershave," she said, taking a deep breath.

"Is it bad?" he asked, straightening up.

"Only if you expect me to attack you in the copy room later today," she answered. "I'd like to drag you to bed right now."

"Yikes! I'm ordering a case, then!"

Laughing, she stood to pour his coffee.

"I can get it," he said. "Sit."

"No, I like doing for you, just like you seem to like doing for me. We take care of each other. See?" she said, holding up strawberry jam. "I remembered."

"Aw, thank you," he said.

"I made our lunches, too; bologna on white with mustard and chips, and an apple and cookies for dessert."

"If we have matching lunches, people will know," he said, grinning.

"You have a brown paper bag, and I have a Hello Kitty bag," she replied.

"I love Hello Kitty! That's not fair."

"I'll get you Transformers bags," she said, laughing.

After they had toast, and she filled their travel mugs, they bundled up for their walk to the car. Gathering their briefcases, phones and lunches, Terry took a last look around the apartment before descending. Noticing that Alex made the bed thrilled her. It was like she'd made it, the covers just pulled up.

"I think we're compatible," she said.

"I do, too," Alex said.

They got into the car, their things situated, their coffee mugs open and in their respective holders.

"I feel like it's the first day of school," Terry said.

"Here we go!"

Although she kept it to herself, anxiety mounted the closer they got to Center City and Rittenhouse Square. A private parking lot behind the old colonial building which housed Vince's lavish offices awaited Alex's car.

"Ugh, there's one of Vince's research assistants." Terry murmured. "I'm waiting to get out."

"He's not even looking," Alex said, watching in his rearview mirror. "He'd gone on ahead. I never drive in so he probably doesn't even know this car."

"How do you usually get to work?" she asked.

"Crosstown bus or cab," he said. "It's a fifteen minute ride."

"Maybe we'd better take the train from now on," she said, worried.

"I liked driving in," he replied. "Trust me, everything is going to be okay. If they question us, let me do the talking. I'm in love with you, Terry."

Fredericka ran up to the car, scaring them, hugging her body in the cold without a coat on, and tapped on the window even though it was going down. "Vince wants to see you both, ASAP," she said, frowning.

"Fudge," Terry said, looking away.

"Let's go," Alex said, and to Fredericka. "Thanks. Tell him we are on our way."

"Great," Terry said.

"It'll be fine. I promise you."

Alex got their things out of the back seat while Terry held their partly full coffee cups. "If this isn't domestic, I'm not sure what is," he said, laughing.

"I'm about ready to puke," she replied.

"Here we go," he said. "I'm going to apply to the County Prosecutor's Office. They have an ad in the Inquirer for a clerk and it specifically says veterans welcome to apply."

"Oh, God," she said, following him. "You'd hate the prosecutor."

He juggled their briefcases to get the door, letting her go through first. "It'll be fine. I promise you," he repeated.

They walked into the overheated and fortunately empty reception area, and back to their offices. "Do we wait for him to call us?" Terry asked. "Or just go back?"

"Let me ring his secretary and tell her we're here," he replied. "They'll tell us what they want.

What they wanted was Terry first. She was the one with seniority, the one who should know better.

"Terry, I have a zero tolerance for this," Vince said, pointing to the chair across from his desk.

She didn't reply. What was there to say? I know? She was dying to ask how he knew.

"You work well together. The two cases you've tried together resulted in a dismissal in the defendant's favor and a not-guilty verdict. In the five years you've been here, you've successfully defended your client in every instant. That's a track record to be proud of.

"In the light of that, Paul and I would like to offer you a partnership with the provision that you'll end whatever this is with Alex Hawthorne."

Bowing her head, Terry couldn't believe this was the scenario that she was faced with, because although this had been her goal, becoming a partner, Alex might be the love of her life.

"You know that's been my goal," she said.

"I know that," Vince replied, standing up.

"I obviously can't accept it now."

"I don't get it," he said, shocked, turning to her from the window. "Why?"

"It just happened," she said. "Just this weekend. There was never even a hint of impropriety. I wouldn't even have lunch with the man unless you told me to."

"What made this weekend different? Let me guess; alcohol."

"Tequila," she admitted. "I guess Paul and his big mouth..."

"Yes, Paul does like a bit of gossip," he said. "I'm so sorry, Terry."

Pushing the chair back, she started to rise. "So am I fired?"

"I don't see any other way around it. I have fifteen lawyers here, four of them are women, and twelve female secretaries, most of them young and single. If I look the other way now, all I can see is chaos. As soon as word gets out, you'll have the pick of jobs in Philadelphia."

"I'll pack my office up," she said, devastated, and he didn't stop her.

Afraid to say more because she was on the verge of tears, she wondered what Vince was going to say to Alex. Added to the worry, she had to pack up her office and the only way she could get her things home was in Alex's car.

Returning to her office through the empty hallway, she closed the door before anyone had a chance to confront her. Surely everyone knew what Vince was going to say to her. Looking at her watch, she changed her tune; maybe not. It was only eight-forty.

Fredericka had piled file boxes discreetly behind her door. Starting with the mementos on her desk and bookshelves, including her graduation picture from Michigan, her proud mother and father standing on either side of her, and a caricature portrait done of her at an office Christmas party four years go. She'd use it for target practice someday.

Soon, she had five boxes full of books and personal belongings. Phone beeping next, it was a text from Alex. Meet me at the car.

Grabbing her coat and a box of books, she fled the office before anyone came in. Walking along the side of the building to the parking lot, she saw Alex waiting up ahead, not looking happy. He went around to the back of the car and unlocked the trunk before meeting her, taking the box from her.

"Get in," he said, nodding to her door.

Waiting until he slid in next to her, Terry's anxiety grew.

"I wish you wouldn't have made that choice," he said. "I'm not prepared to deal with the guilt."

"What guilt? I'm not choosing a dime a dozen partnership over the love of my life," she said firmly. "Forget it. It's not even an option."

"Am I the love of your life?" he asked.

"Yes. After three days."

They sat together for a full minute before he spoke again. "He didn't tell me to leave."

"He didn't?" she asked, stunned. "I guess that's good because at least one of us has a job while I look for one."

"I don't know if I should stay there now," he said. "It seems like such a betrayal."

"Not of me it's not. It's easier to find work when you're working if you want another job."

He looked at her, taking her hand. "You're doing this for me," he said. "After one weekend together."

"After one life-changing weekend, finding the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, yes. Anyway, I was getting sick and tired of Vince's misogynistic rules about skirts and heels. You should have heard what he said about all the single secretaries. He said if he let this slide, there'd be chaos."

"He said that?"

"Yes, he did. Alex, this is a fine trade off for me! I hope it doesn't change the way you're feeling about me. Maybe working together would get to be too much. The question is, are you ready to support me while I job hunt?"

Finally he grabbed her to hug. "Of course," he said. "Look, I'll load the car up with your stuff and you take the train home, okay?"

"Are you sure? I was going to come back with my car," she said.

"Do you really want to do that?"

"No, because now that I'm through, I never want to go inside that office again," she said. "I'm almost ready to sue that bastard."

"You probably have grounds. Are you ready to leave?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Take a cab to the station," he said, going for his wallet.  
"I'll get it," she said, laughing. "I'm not destitute yet."

He bent down to kiss her on the lips when they reached the front door. "Call me when you get home."

Leaving him to go inside, she walked down the sidewalk, and Brenda, Paul and another lawyer approached.

"Where are you headed?" Brenda asked.

"Ask Paul," Terry answered, waving goodbye as she continued to walk away.

"Wait!" Paul called out, mortified. "Did he fire you?"

"Just announce it to the world," Brenda said, shoving him. "Wait, Terry!"

"Nope, I've had enough bare legs for a lifetime. I'll call you later," she said, waving again.

Stunned at the events, the trio watched Terry walk to the corner and hail a cab.

"There goes a class act," Paul said.

"Why'd you squeal on her then?" Brenda cried.

"I swear to God, I did it hoping he'd offer her the partnership we've been talking about for the past year."

"He must have forgotten that conversation. She was my friend at work! I can't stand the thought of not having her there," Brenda said, wiping a tear away.

"Come on, don't whine on the street," Paul said, putting his arm around her. "Let's ask Fredericka what happened."

"Suburban Station," Terry told the cabbie.

Briefcase stuffed, weighing at least twenty pounds, she dreaded having to lug it up the hill. But getting home at the end of the torture was her sanctuary. Rarely there during the week, and almost never on a Monday, she'd spend the time recovering from the trauma of being fired by visiting her father for morning coffee, getting his advice, and then shopping at one of the big grocery stores in his neighborhood for dinner ingredients. She was going to cook for Alex; cliché, but too bad. Cooking for him would be healing, and right then, she needed healing big time.

Finally home, pushing the door open with her foot, she went right to the phone to call her father. "Dad, do you want to shop with me today? I feel like cooking a feast."

"Why aren't you at work?" he asked, hearing from her on a Monday morning as rare as could be.

"I got fired," she said, giving him the short version.

"Boy, you sure are your mother's daughter," he said. "Celebrating losing your job."

"It's not that easy to explain. Can I come by for coffee? Then we can shop if you still want to."

"Come on over," he said, doubt echoing across the phone lines.

She hung up from him struggling out of her coat, and got her cell phone out to text Alex.

Home safe, on my way to Tacony to shop for special dinner items with my dad.

Seconds later, her phone rang.

"You might reconsider," he whispered. "Paul is in there now with Vince, reading him the riot act. I bet you get a call before the day is up to come back."

"Alex, if that's the case, I'll come back tomorrow. I'm in nesting mode right now. I want to make my boyfriend an authentic Polish dinner."

She could hear him cackling over the phone. "I love Polish food," he said. "See you later."

"Goodbye."

"I love you," he said.

"Love you, too," she said, smiling.

Quickly striping out of her eggplant suit, she put soft jeans on and a white sweater, comfort clothes for skin that felt tender to the touch. Could losing her job affect her physically that fast?

Remembering Benny was probably trying to sleep in the apartment below, she tiptoed to the kitchen and rinsed out the dishes they'd used that morning. Planning her shopping list, she'd buy enough to feed her housemates, and even Mrs. Dell. It was the way things worked in their neighborhood.

Grabbing her phone and purse, she locked up the apartment and skipped down the steps, light-hearted in spite of what had happened to her, her career basically gone in a blink of an eye. She knew from past disappointments that she'd cycle like that for a while; happy and carefree, to regretful and anguished.

In twenty-five minutes she was at her father's house, the lack of weekend traffic an oddity and a treat. She loved the old neighborhood, blocks from the river, a sea of tranquil suburbia in the middle of a teeming metropolis. In the years since her mother had died, the house had slowly changed from a homey, out of style mélange of collectibles and maple colonial furniture, to her father's sleek, contemporary sensibility.

"Daddy, I really like what you've done in here," she said.

"You don't miss Mom's mishmash?"

"I really don't," she answered. "I loved it when she was alive, but it felt all wrong after. It was stuff she liked. I like seeing you in what you like."

"I'm glad you took some of it," he said. "Packed the rest of it away. If you have kids someday, they might want it. I won't get rid of it."

"This is easier on the eyes," she said.

"And it's easier to clean," he said, reaching for his cap.

He put it on his head, checking out his appearance in the mirror next to the door. It was such a part of him that normally Terry wouldn't give it a second thought. But after what had transpired the night before, the emotional meltdown that Alex had had and ignored, the cap took on new meaning.

Vietnam Veteran, it said in emboldened letters. Gold words on a black fabric cap, across the back, the year 1970. "Were you and mom married yet when you went to Vietnam?" I asked.

"Oh, no," he said. "I didn't even meet her until ten years later. We got married in eighty-five, so I was long over it."

"So you waited until you were almost forty to get married? That's cool, Dad," Terry said.

"Why is it cool?" he asked, frowning. "I wish I'd met her long before that."

"What did you do before you met her?"

"Come on. I'll drive and give you my life story."

"Okay," she said, laughing. "I'm being nosey, but if you can't tell me, who can you tell?"

"That's true," he said.

They got into the car and buckled in, and Harry Kovac started up the car. "I was married before I went to Vietnam."

"You were married!"

"Yep. My high school sweetheart," he said. "Jeanette. We got married right after high school. It was ridiculous, but we wanted to be together, and back in those days, you didn't live together like you and Alex are able to do. It was just not acceptable, it labeled girls. So they had two choices; go to school and live in a dorm, or get married. Really three choices, you could always stay home with mom and dad and get a job at Bell Telephone.

"Men, now men could do whatever they wanted. I got a job at a gas station, but I hated the owner. Since there was no money for college, that left joining the Marines. I did it without checking in with Jeanette and she wasn't happy. As a matter of fact, she was livid. Truthfully, I blame myself for the end of that marriage."

"Did she leave you right away?"

"No, it took another couple of years. She tried to hang in there, but between my selfishness and the rigors of war, she was finished with me when I got back from Vietnam. Those were actually her words. 'I'm finished.'"

"Dad, I don't know what to say," Terry said, so sad for Harry. "That must have been terrible."

"It was pretty bad. It took me the next ten years to pull myself together," he said. "By the time I met your mother, I was more than ready to settle down."

Looking out the window, Terry noted her father's story paralleled Alex's and it scared her. It had taken Harry ten years to recover and Alex was four months out. Maybe the rebound would be too much for him.

"Dad, I guess I need advice," she said.

"Anything," he said.

"Alex's wife left him, too. I think he has signs of PTSD. Now I'm worried for us."

"Do you want to tell me what happened at work?" Harry asked.

Roosevelt Boulevard was moving along nicely, and they got to the Pick and Save in record time. Pulling into a parking spot, he shut the car off and waited, looking at her.

"Vince has a zero tolerance for fraternization. I knew it, but I'm telling you, I also I knew I was in love with Alex this weekend. It's the love I've waited for. I'm almost thirty, Dad. I've waited this long for him. I can get another job."

"How'd your boss find out if it just happened this weekend?"

"Friday night we went out with one of the partners and his wife. I guess everyone must have been able to tell that something was happening between us, because when we got to work this morning, we were summoned. Alex didn't get fired, either. I was offered a choice; a partnership after giving Alex the ax, or my walking papers. I accepted the termination."

"Honey, your goal was to make partner! To do it in five years instead of the ten you told me was the usual, that's a coup."

"Dad, I love Alex. I'm ready to marry him. I'll find another job."

"You've made your mind up. You don't need my advice. I'm proud of you whatever your decision is. Let's go get the ingredients for pierogi and fried cabbage."

"Pierogis sound too hard to make," she said. "I don't want to trash the kitchen."

"Eh, you buy 'em frozen and doctor 'em. No one will know."

"Ha! Okay, that's more like it."

They talked nonstop for the next hour, strolling through the store, the older man in his Vietnam Veteran cap, probably handsome at one time, too thin and a little stooped over now, animatedly talking to a beautiful young woman in tight jeans and a fluffy sweater, her coat thrown over the basket, wearing short boots with heels. The heels, a part of her professional wardrobe, would remind her that she had once worked as an attorney, and would again someday soon.

Chapter 7

Five-thirty rolled around at last. Alex Hawthorne stayed behind closed doors for most of the day, making excuses when Vince asked him to lunch, angering the senior partner until Paul reminded him that he'd just fired the guy's girlfriend.

"Give him time to come around," Paul said. "However, I wouldn't be surprised if he quits before long."

"Let him," Vince said. "He'll soon find out we have a glut of young lawyers in the mid-Atlantic."

"Jesus, Vince, chill out," Paul said. "Your attitude is starting to scare me."

"I lost a good attorney today," he snapped back. "All because she forgot where the hell she worked."

"You could have bent the rules," Paul replied. "I'm sorry I said anything. You'd probably never know they were together until you got the wedding invitation."

With that, Vince pointed to his door. "Get out, will you? We have work to do."

When the halls were clear after five thirty, Alex carried the rest of Terry's boxes out to the car. There was one more box of books he'd get the next day, if he was still employed that is. As the day had progressed, staying in touch with her on the phone while she walked through the grocery store on FaceTime with Harry, Alex's anger grew at Vince. He'd wait until he got home to research, but he was pretty sure some laws had been broken that day and he intended on finding out about it.

Forgetting about his own apartment until he pulled into the parking spot behind Terry's house, he'd have to clear that out the next day. Stressors creeping up on him had the potential of destroying his peace, so he completed an exercise he learned in rehab, a hospital stay courtesy of the US Army right before his honorable discharge. Not many of his friends and family knew the truth; he came close to having a complete mental breakdown when he returned from Iraq, the sight of death too much for his gentle soul. The technique was to allow only one task to concern him at a time. Staying focused helped him hold it together.

Right now, he had to empty his car of boxes belonging to Terry, the woman he'd decided with whom he'd spend the rest of his life. He planned on telling her that evening that he wanted to marry her, just in case there were any doubts.

Piling the boxes on the porch, he was preparing to knock when the K bus pulled up in front of the house and Benny got off.

"Looks like someone's moving in," he said smiling. "We'll get you a key."

"Thanks," Alex said.

"I'll help you carry these up," Benny said, sniffing the air. "Something smells good!"

"She's cooking Polish tonight, enough for the whole house, she said."

"Yum!" Benny jiggled the key and gave the door a push.

"We're home!" Benny yelled, grunting under the weight of the box he'd picked up.

Alex could hear the door open on the third floor, hear Terry's light quick step to the hallway in front of Benny's doorway.

"Hello!" she said, flushed and excited, and Alex saw that she was happy, pleased that he'd come home to her.

Leaning over the box, he gave her a kiss. "How many more?" she asked.

"There are six more on the porch," he answered, "but I'll get them."

"I'll help," she said. "I haven't been to the gym in a week."

"Gym, yuck," Benny said. "Exercise, yuck."

"I'm teasing, I'm teasing," she said. "I hate the gym."

"I agree," Alex said, pointing to the living room. "Just stick the box right in there."

They'd have to get more bookshelves, Alex thought. Unless she got another job which required her to have her own law library.

Running back down the stairs, he grabbed another box, while Terry, chatting with the neighbor, Mrs. Dell, held a box on her hip, explaining that she'd be bringing dinner over in ten minutes.

"Just give me time to get this stuff off the porch and I'll be right back with your dinner. Enough for Mr. Dell, too."

She followed Alex up the stairs, and he could see by her smile and her body language that she'd already recovered from the slights of the day.

"You're unbelievable," he said. "No regrets?"

"Oh, no. Not a single one. I have so much to tell you, I don't know where to begin."

"Now I'm dying of curiosity," he said.

"I'll dish this food up and deliver it, and then we can sit and have our dinner. In the meantime you can relax. I got a six pack of what I remembered you said was your favorite beer."

"No way," he said, going to the kitchen and opening the fridge door. "You did! Yes, it's my favorite, and I just have to be careful not to drink the whole six pack in one sitting."

"Next time, I'll just buy one bottle," she said, and they laughed.

"I need to get out of my suit," he said, retreating to the bedroom.

Standing at the stove, Terry divided bacon and fried cabbage and potato pierogis into containers for the neighbors.

"I'll be right back," she called out.

Stopping at Benny's first, he'd left a note on the door to leave his dinner on the kitchen counter. He was in the shower. Next, she ran down to Earle's, who was waiting at the door with a big smile.

"My dear, this is my favorite food!"

"Did my dad call you?" she asked. "He has a big mouth."

"Oh, don't be angry at Harry. He wanted to talk paint. He found more at the Salvation Army. Pirogies just slipped into the conversation."

"Oh, okay, I won't be mad. Say, will you watch for me? I'm going to run this over to the Dell's."

"Of course," he said.

Their neighborhood wasn't particularly dangerous, but it was the city, and young women shouldn't be out after dark alone on Mount Pleasant Avenue. He stood in the doorway watching her cross their lawn and go between the privet hedge, across the driveway to the Dell's front lawn.

"Mrs. Dell," she called.

The front door opened right away and an appreciative Mr. Dell took the food from Terry.

"I can smell it across the street!" A tenant called out.

"We'll remember you next weekend when you play the drums until midnight," Mr. Dell said.

"I'll stop playing at nine if I can eat with you," he yelled over traffic.

Terry laughed, running home. "You men work it out among yourselves," she said.

Locking the door with Earle looking on, Terry said goodnight. Alex was waiting for her at the top of the stairs, wearing her Michigan sweatpants again and an old long-sleeved T shirt.

"Well, I'm officially unemployed," she said, pushing the boxes in the far corner. "I'll deal with these tomorrow."

"Tell me what happened," Alex said.

"Let's eat," she said, moving into the kitchen. "Vince called. He said he had second thoughts. That Paul had given him hell."

"Wow," Alex said. "That's certainly validation for you."

"Is it? I felt such relief once I got home today. That office sucked the life out of me. Even telling me what to wear; I'd had enough and didn't know it. It was a gift, firing me like he did."

"He fired you when you refused to stop seeing me," Alex said. "And not before offering you a partnership. It was all the talk today that you'd passed up a partnership."

"They better not have talked about that!" she said, her eyes flashing.

"The alternative wasn't mentioned that I know of, unless people were sparing me," Alex replied. "There was a lot of chatter, wondering why you left. I felt awful."

"I hope this isn't going to be a problem for us, Alex," she said, placing silverware on the table. "I'm telling you, it was a gift. I already have a list of calls to make tomorrow, including legal aid to veterans. Most of them are run by charities like the Goodwill. They operate on grant money and donations, and the attorneys work pro bono. They're paid a stipend based on a scale of the type of case."

"Wait, you're an experienced criminal defense attorney. You can get a job with any of the big firms on the eastern seaboard. Why would you take a volunteer job?"

"I'm not saying I would do it forever, full time. I just want to do it. It'll keep me frosty while I look."

"Oh, okay," he said, chuckling. "You were scaring me there for a minute." She placed a plate of food on the table in front of him. "That looks good! What possessed you?"

Sitting down across from him, she looked out the window. There were solar lights around the perimeter of the yard so when she looked out it wouldn't be at a black hole.

"Like I said, when I got home, I was just happy! I can't explain it. I knew I wanted to cook a nice meal for you. That was my number one priority. And I wanted to have coffee with my dad. You can imagine how rare it is to spend any time with him during the week. I changed clothes and drove over there, and we went grocery shopping together! It was wonderful. I'm going to do it every week from now until I find a full time job again.

"The pierogi are frozen. I didn't make them," she admitted.

"I would have never known," he said. "They're wonderful."

"There's a pound of bacon in the cabbage, by the way," she said, smiling. "So, tell me about your day."

"Well, I'm officially no longer a clerk," he said, frowning. "I really liked clerking for you. Do you think you can take me along on your next job?"

"Ha! Yes! I'll do my best to get a two-fer-one," she answered.

"What does Vince have you doing?"

"Tomorrow I have to go to court for jury selection of one of Paul's trials. I'll have to read the file tonight."

"Okay, well I won't make a peep," she said. "I'm going to peruse the employment sites. I updated my resume already. Now I just need to plug it in."

"Can I infringe on your wisdom?" he asked.

"Of course. Paul's cases are always the same stuff; rich people who take advantage of poor people. You'll feel the cadence before long."

"I hate that," he said.

"Well, soon you'll get your own cases to try and they'll be the scutwork."

"I was afraid of that," he said.

"Don't be. I was the low man for four of the five years I was there, and I'm telling you, those cases are the most interesting. You have to dig deeper and try harder. I'll help you, but I don't think you'll need it."

"So, tell me what you think of everything that is happening. A lot of changes in a few days," Alex said, taking her hand. "Before I forget, you look lovely tonight."

"Why thank you," she said. "I feel happy. Maybe that's why."

"I like you in that sweater," he said, a wild look in his eye she'd come to recognize. "A white, fuzzy sweater, ooh la la!"

"Ha!" she said, laughter covering her excitement. "You're flirting with me."

"Yes, I am," he said, getting down on his knees and crawling over to her. Massaging her thighs, he crept up higher with each stroke. "Can dinner wait? Because I want to make love to you right now."

"Dinner can wait," she sighed,

"Then I'm taking you to bed," he whispered, helping her stand.

He picked her up in his arms, carrying her into the bedroom, and laid her on the bed. Once again, it didn't take long for either of them to finish.

"Thank you."

"For what?" she asked, confused. No one had ever thanked her for sex before.

"For this, and for dinner," he said, hugging her. "I don't think it gets any better than this."

"You're welcome," she said. "But thank you!"

"For what?" he asked, laughing.

"For what you just did to me," she said. "I'm under your spell."

"Good," Alex said. "Because I'm under yours, too."

Chapter 8

December 4th

Tuesday morning winter arrived. A light dusting of snow covered everything, and traffic on Mount Pleasant Avenue, slowed down to a crawl. The salt trucks were caught by surprise, and rush hour would take the brunt of it.

"I'll be worried now," Terry said, fixing toast and coffee for Alex while she watched the snow falling.

"No worries. I'll drive slowly," he said.

"Would you consider taking the train?"

"I need to stop by my apartment after work to empty it out. There's also one more box of your books I need to get," he said.

"Thank you so much," she replied, pressing up against him. "I'm so grateful to you."

"Oh, yeah, for getting you fired, among other things," he reminded her.

"Stop," she said, laughing. "We don't have to rehash that again, do we? I'm looking forward to finding a new job today."

"Is that your plan?" he asked, sipping coffee.

"It is. I'll send out feelers," she said, smiling. "Someone from Michigan might know of an opening at a practice in Philadelphia. I went to school with a guy from Philly who practices here. It's all good.

"Then I can think about Christmas shopping!"

"We should probably talk about getting a tree," he said.

"Christmas is almost three weeks away," she replied. "It's late for shopping, but isn't it a little early for a tree?"

"Maybe, but not by this weekend it won't be. I'm so excited! I feel like a little kid," Alex said. "Being with you makes me happy, and therefore Christmas is something to look forward to."

"Okay, this weekend it's a tree. I'll get more decorations from my dad. My mother was a Christmas decoration hoarder."

"I'd better give myself some extra time to get in," he said, looking at his watch. "I'll call you later."

He kissed her. Watching him buttoning up his overcoat and putting galoshes on over his shoes made her smile. Taking his travel mug from her, he picked up his briefcase and leaned over to kiss her again.

"Have a nice day," she said. "I'll have something good for dinner tonight."

"Goodbye, Terry," he said, kissing her again. "Thank you again for everything."

She shut the door, and took her coffee out to the living room where she sat on the window seat and waited for him to pull out of the driveway into traffic. The beautiful view of snow falling over the city made her so happy. In spite of everything, she never felt so vital. That wasn't a word she normally would apply to herself.

Looking down, she saw his car driving away. It made her sad, missing him already. Connecting with him in such an intensely intimate way, she wondered if that was how all couples in love felt about each other, how amazing, and how sad if she'd missed out on it. Maybe she was a late bloomer but she couldn't imagine settling for less now that she knew what that kind of romance was like. It was mind blowing.

Her cell phone rang, and she put her coffee down to run to get it from the bedroom. It was too soon for Alex to be calling her. She hoped he hadn't been in an accident. Picking it up, she saw Arvin calling on Caller ID.

"Yes," she drawled.

"Hey babe, Larry called me last night with Brenda's news that you were fired. What the hell!"

She went back to the window seat. "I know. I can't believe it myself. But honestly, it's all good. I know that sounds like a bunch of crap, but it's really fine. There were some things that bugged me about that place. Now I'm free to find something else."

"Well, I'm here for you, babe. If you need anything, let me know."

"Thanks, Arvin. I really appreciate it. How's everything going for you?" she asked.

"Good. I need a vacay, but who doesn't? Let's talk soon, okay?"

"Let's," she said. "Good bye, Arvin,"

"Bye babe," he said, and hung up.

Brenda would be at work at nine and Terry would call her then. When they'd spoken yesterday, Brenda was beside herself, but Terry didn't tell her why she'd been fired. Brenda had probably heard it from Paul, and when she'd tried calling later, Terry didn't answer the phone. Grateful that Brenda hadn't said anything about the whys to Arvin, she'd make sure to thank her for her discretion, unless Arvin knew and was just being a gentleman for a change.

Getting her laptop, she'd sit in the window seat under the round window to job hunt.

Chapter 9

Pacing the floor, by nine Tuesday night Terry knew there was a problem, that he'd gotten a flat, or even had an accident. It was different then when Arvin stood her up because she didn't love Arvin. Alex had texted her at six, he was on his way to the apartment to get the rest of his belongings. They'd had a full day of jury selection and he was getting a late start.

Give me an hour, he wrote; I'll be home to you by seven thirty, eight at the latest. I love you and miss you.

When he didn't arrive by eight-thirty, she texted him, hoping everything was okay, but he didn't answer. That could mean he was in transit. There wasn't really any place to stop along the way where he could answer a text message, no shoulder to turn off from the road.

Shutting the light off in the living room, she'd sit at the window seat and wait. Finally, at ten after nine, the lights of a car swept over the driveway. He was home. Springing up, she forced herself to wait upstairs. Straining to hear, first the sound of the key in the door downstairs and then his footsteps on the stairs reassured her. She opened the door, ready to hug him hello, but stopped herself because he didn't look approachable. Trying not to be too concerned by Alex's grim appearance, it frightened her all over again.

Standing aside to let him through, she noticed right away the difference in him; he didn't greet her with a kiss.

"I'm sorry," he said, glancing at her, then looking away.

"I was worried," she said.

Going into the living room, he unbuttoned his top coat and threw it over the back of his chair. "I'll hang it up for you."

"I'm not staying, Terry."

"You're not?" she asked, her voice small, trembling.

He sat in his chair, his head down, running his fingers through his hair.

"What is it?" Terry asked, standing in the doorway. "You're scaring me, Alex."

"Sit down," he said. "Can you flick a light on first?"

She reached over and turned the side table light on. "What happened?"

Shaking his head, she could see he was struggling with having to tell her something, and the fear in her heart grew, along with her gorge. "What is it?"

"Jennifer is pregnant," he said.

"Your wife?"

"Yes. It must have happened when I got home. That one time. That's all it took," he said.

In her head, Terry counted from August. It was December 4th. She was four months pregnant. Alex, the man she loved, the man who'd just moved into her apartment two days ago, the man who'd she lost her job for, was telling her his wife was pregnant, and that he wasn't staying.

"Are you going back to her?" Terry asked, barely able to say the words.

"Yes," he said. "When I got to my apartment tonight, she was there."

"Why'd she wait so long to tell you?" Terry asked.

"I don't know," he said. "I think she was having doubts about having it at first."

He got up and went to the window seat. The light was on so he couldn't see much more than his reflection in the window.

"I'm so sorry," he said.

Terry was numb. "Please get out," she said. "Give me my key and leave."

"I need to get my clothes," he said, handing her the key and reaching for his coat. "I'll get my other things later, but my clothes I need for work."

"Hurry. Before I do something I'll regret."

Shutting the light off, she closed the door of the living room so she couldn't hear him, and turned the TV on for background noise. A housewife show was on, someone telling another cast member off, unattractive, drunk, pathetic. Terry felt like that housewife, ruining her life over a night of drunken sex. Not even thinking of how hurt she was, the things that bothered her that moment were the superficial things; the neighbors knowing that after less than four days, the relationship was over.

Her father. Oh my God. The poor man knew she was living with someone who would leave her after four days.

The salvation of having been fired; not having to face the people at work, her pride taking a beating, the mortification of him returning to his wife. She'd loved working with them, Brenda was her best friend. Brenda would learn from the other party that the relationship was over. No longer able to say his name, she'd find another way to refer to him but only if it was absolutely necessary.

He tapped on the door.

"Leave!" she cried, frightened he'd come in to say goodbye.

She vowed to never talk to him again, never wanted to see his face, hear his name spoken. The thought of him made her ill.

Hearing a motor passing on the driveway, she got up and went to the window in time to see him turning right out of her driveway, returning to town.

Terry ran downstairs with the key to lock the door. In the morning, she'd write Benny and Earle a note, telling them he'd left and to please not mention his name. It was that bad, that humiliating.

Back up in her apartment, she'd spend the night packing up his belongings, wishing she'd had a fireplace so she could burn it all, his important papers, discharge papers from the Army, and license to practice law. Imagining Alex asking for his things, she'd have to admit to him she'd destroyed them.

Instead, she sat down and snooped, going through his medical papers which detailed how the horrors of war had hurt Alex's gentle soul. She spent the next hours alternating tears and anguish, with anger and frustration.

By dawn, every indication he'd ever been there was gone. The boxes could stay on the porch; she sent a text that simply said your belongings are on the porch. Quickly blocking his number after she sent the message, she never wanted to see his number on her phone. If someone stole his things, oh well.

She doubted he had her landline number, thank God, or she'd have to have that disconnected. In the bathroom, his toothbrush, the towel he used, even the pillow he laid on, all trashed. She changed the sheets again, throwing the sheets he'd touched in the trash. The leather chair and bookcases were another problem, Terry was afraid of gouging the walls or she'd throw them down the stairs.

Sitting on her window seat, the sun was coming up in the east. The snow that had fallen the morning before had melted, but it was icy out, she could see everything glistening with frost.

That life she'd loved so much had almost been ruined by...had almost been ruined. She still loved her apartment, just vowed to never allow another man in again. One, nearly catastrophic mistake almost destroyed it. All she really lost was her well being and her job. Her pride she'd regain. But her well being, she didn't think that was going to come back easily. How was it possible that she could lose so much in such a short time? Amazing.

As tired as she was, she just wanted a cup of coffee while she sat in the window. Then, she could get into bed alone, and sleep for a week.
Chapter 10

December 5th

Slowly, slowly, feelings returned for Terry. Harry visited her early Wednesday after Earle called him, upset when Terry slipped the note under his door about no longer having a live-in boyfriend. After being up all night packing Alex's things, and removing every trace of him except the furniture they'd bought together, she'd gotten three hours of sleep when her phone beeped.

Your old father is climbing two flights of stairs, he texted. Answer your door.

"Dad, I haven't brushed my teeth yet," she said, holding the door for him.

"I can wait," he said, holding up a box from Eagle's Bakery. "I'll make coffee."

So her father rescued her, not letting her stay in bed, forcing her to have a little pastry for breakfast.

"I forgot how nice this place is," he said looking around. "I'm very surprised."

"I'm glad you like it. I'm sorry I let that other person in," she said. "I'll never do it again. It's almost tainted. Not completely, but almost."

"Give yourself a month to recover. On Sex in the City, Charlotte says it takes a full week for every day you were with someone. So you were with you know who four days, give yourself a month."

"Dad, that's not scientific," she said, laughing. "Oh my God, I can't believe I laughed! Thank you so much."

"I'll come every morning for coffee and laughter," he said.

"Since when do you watch Sex in the City?" she asked.

"Since I got Netflix," he said. "I love that show."

"Dad, I think you might be loosening up," Terry said, sipping coffee.

The buzzer on the front door rang out.

"Oh no," she said, terrified. "I can't imagine who that might be unless..."

"You'll never know unless you answer it," Harry said.

Reluctantly, she got up and went to the intercom to look at the security camera. "It's my former boss," she said incredulous.

Pressing the button to talk, she didn't try to hide her annoyance. "Vince, what are you doing here?"

"Please let me come up, Terry. I need to talk to you," he said.

"My daughter!" Harry said, shaking his fist in the air in triumph. "They can't live without you downtown."

"I don't think that's it, Dad," she said, leaving to unlock the door.

Remembering she was wearing the same grubby tights she'd cleaned house in all night, no bra and a ratty long sleeved tee. Terry smirked at her reflection in Earle's french doors. Flipping the lock, she stood aside to let him in.

"Oh, I guess you're...?" he asked startled, looking at her clothes, then her breasts, quickly looking away.

"What Vince? I don't have a dress code at home. If it's any of your business, I'm cleaning," she said, pointing up the stairs. "After you."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't come here to be critical or to piss you off."

"I know," she said. "You can't help yourself. Go."

She followed him up. "My father is here, just for your information. Be careful about insulting me in front of him. The man is a mother tiger."

"I'd never insult you. When have I ever insulted you? I think you're fabulous and you know it."

They reached her apartment.

"I'll take your coat," she said, hanging it on the wall hooks in the hallway.

"Do you want coffee? My dad brought pastry from one of those German bakeries in the northeast."

"Yes, and yes," he said.

Pouring him coffee and offering him the box of pastries from which to choose, she thought that it couldn't be weirder than having her father and her former boss in the apartment at the same time.

"My father might be a tad hostile," she whispered.

"Rightly so," Vince said.

"We're in here," she said, pointing to the front of the house.

"Wow, this is really nice," he said, looking around.

"Vince, this is my dad, Harry Kovac," Terry said.

Placing his coffee mug on the table, he offered Harry his hand to shake.

"Thank you for your service, Sir," Vince said. "Terry's told us about it."

"You're welcome," Harry said. "Is it safe for me to stay and hear what you have to say to my daughter after the piss poor way you treated her?"

"Yes sir," Vince said. "Terry, I came to apologize to you and to offer you your job back. Actually, to reiterate the partnership."

"Why?" she asked. "I was just looking forward to finding an office where I can wear pants."

"I'll change the dress code if you'll come back. You'll be a partner so you can change it."

"I don't know what to think. I'm thinking you're here because you've heard that the relationship I thought I had is no longer. Is that correct?"

"That's correct," he said.

"I'm not sure I would be comfortable working with certain parties," she admitted.

"You'll never have to unless it's an emergency. Being a partner, you'd have the pick of the cases. And as you know, having a certain hostility is sometimes helpful during a difficult trial. It helps to keep you on your toes."

"Yes, well in small doses. I'm not sure my health could take a steady dose of adrenaline. Please, sit down," she said, pointing to the leather winged-back chair.

They drank coffee, Vince eating the pastry unabashedly, getting crumbs all over his suit, and making small talk comfortably in the apartment of his long time employee.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked finally.

"I'll consider it. I need to see something in writing," she said. "And I'll take the rest of the week off to think about it."

"Certainly," Vince said. "Anything else?"

He followed her into the hallway to get his coat.

"I expect you to keep this confidential. I don't want other parties privy to my work situation, if you get my drift."

"I won't say a word. Paul knows. I came here at his urging. I was actually afraid of you," he said, wide eyed.

"Get over yourself, Vince. What have I ever done to make you afraid? I've never been anything but respectful and kind to you, no matter how unreasonable you've been."

"You're a formidable debater," he said. "I didn't know how angry you'd be."

"I'm too tired to be angry," she said, opening the door. "I'll walk you down."

"So, you'll call me and let me know about Monday?"

"Yes, of course. I'll make up my mind by Friday at noon," she said.

"Goodbye, Terry," he said, holding his hand out to shake.

Grinning, she shook it back. "Goodbye, Vince," she replied. "And by the way, I completely understand the no fraternization clause now."

"I'm sorry, Terry."

Back up in her living room, she sat across from her father with another pastry on her lap.

"Dad, what do you think?"

"Play hardball," he said. "You have three days of possibilities. Rest, relax, meditate."

"Wait, Harry Kovac is telling me to meditate? Dad, what's going on with you?"

"There's a spiritual guru on Netflix, too," he said, giggling, a charming side to her father that she'd rarely seen before.

"Mom was very spiritual," she said, feeling wistful. "I think she'd approve of the new Harry Kovac."

"I have her rosary beads in a little place I'm fixing up as an altar. I know, I know, aging hippie, new age of Aquarius, hocus pocus, dominocus."

"Dad!" she cried, laughing. "I'm not making fun. I'm laughing at you making fun of yourself."

"Hey, it brings me comfort. I'll never get over losing your mother, so I might as well do what I can to try to connect with her spirit until I die."

"Is that what you're doing?" Terry asked, being gentle with her old dad.

"I'm pretty sure it is. I've never had any use for psychic crap before. I'm sorry I didn't support her more."

"Dad, you were so supportive! You took us to church every Sunday even though you're Jewish. You went out of your way to facilitate all the religious holidays. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't even bother with Christmas."

"Now see, Terry," Harry said. "I think that's a big mistake."

"Why?" she asked, astonished. "I'd think you'd be relieved."

"Our traditions were started by your mother's parents," he said. "I promised her I'd keep doing them in case you ever had a child. It's important for the kid to have the family history. Or something like that."

"Dad, at the rate I'm going, I'm never going to have a child, so you can stop whatever it is she asked you to do."

"Terry, don't get bitter because you ran into a schmuck, okay?"

"I won't. I'm not getting bitter. It just happened last night," she said, thinking, Now I can be part of the office baby shower celebration for his kid. "I'm dreading having to interact with him at the holiday parties coming up."

"You're a partner," Harry said. "You'll be exempt from that sort of horseshit."

"Ha! Dad, you're a character," Terry said, bending over to kiss him. "I'm getting more coffee. Do you want some?"

"Nope, no more for me. I think I'll head home now, try to beat the lunch hour traffic. Do you want to shop tomorrow?"

"I'd love to, even though there's no one to shop for," she said.

"You're worth cooking for," he said. "And Earle and Benny are still raving about your Polish dinner."

"Oh! Do you want to be my date at Mrs. Dell's graduation party this weekend?"

"Sure," Harry said. "I'll enjoy that. Although the last time I ate at her house I went to the ER thinking it was a heart attack and it was just indigestion."

"I remember that," Terry replied, giggling. "Her food is original southern home-cooking. Lots of brown sugar and bacon fat."

They walked out to the hallway and Terry took his coat down off the hook. "Thank you, Dad. I feel so much better. I'm exhausted from being up all night, but I'm not so sad. I have you to thank."

Kissing his daughter's cheek, Harry smiled, and put his veteran's cap on. "I'll see you in the morning for laughter and food shopping," he said. "I might take you to Reading Terminal for fresh kielbasa."

"I'd love that! Let's do it," she said, following him down the stairs.

She waited at the door, watching him get into his truck and pull out into traffic. A visit from her father was so rare that she made a notation on the calendar. Dad here with pastry.

Washing up from their coffee and company, sweeping the crumbs up from Vince's mess, soon the house was back in order and she could rest. First, she wedged a kitchen chair against the entrance door to her apartment. Next, she entered the small, dark bedroom, shut the blinds both there and in the bathroom, and then shut the door. Getting back into bed, exhaustion overcame her and she fell asleep right away.

***

Vince was back in Center City by ten. Ignoring everyone on the way to his office, the receptionist and Brenda shrugged their shoulders.

"What's his problem?" Corinne the receptionist said. "He's been crabby all week."

"He fired one of the worker bees on Monday," Brenda said. "He's probably got boss's remorse now."

"Brenda, for chrissake, what are you doing?" Paul whined in his office doorway. "I asked for the transcript from Clodfelter's jury selection."

"That was Terry's case," Brenda said, smirking when he slammed the door. "Now I get to be his whipping boy because he's stuck with it and doesn't know what's going on."

"Why doesn't he get Alex involved since he worked on it with Terry in the first place?" the receptionist asked.

"Good question, but I'm just a peon here," Brenda said.

"You're an attorney, Brenda. Stop putting yourself down. Why are you satisfied to work at this capacity anyway?"

"I'm going to call Terry and beg her to ask Vince for her job back," Brenda said, ignoring Corinne. "This place sucks without her."

Walking away without saying anything more, Brenda truly missed her friend. For five years, they'd spent part of everyday together. She went to her office, more like a cubical with walls, and picked up the phone.

"I didn't want to bother you," she said, when Terry answered. "But you sound pretty chipper this morning."

"I really am. My dad was here!"

"Oh my God! He must have been really worried to venture across town on a weekday," Brenda said.

"You know it, and he brought pastry. I have such a delayed sugar rush. After he left, I fell asleep for an hour until the sugar and caffeine kicked in."

"What are you going to do now?" Brenda asked, a little jealous that she was stuck in the office.

"I think I'll take a walk uptown. There's a new used bookstore on Germantown Avenue."

"Oh, I wish I could go!" she whined.

"The next time you have a day off, come up here," she said. "You'd better get back to work and I want to get started on my day. Talk later?"

"Of course," Brenda said, feeling sad and a little like Terry had put her off. "Call me when you want to chat."

While Brenda did as she was told and got back to work, Terry climbed into bed again. She knew she'd overreacted to Alex. What choice did he have? They'd jumped in to love thinking there was no turning back, and then faced with his ex-wife carrying his child; he had no alternative but to go back to her.

Sitting up with her back against the headboard, she dialed his cell phone.

"Hello," he said, almost a whisper. "I'm so glad you called me. I'm so sorry. I've been miserable."

"Don't be miserable. I'm sorry I was so mean. I've had time to think and there was really nothing else you could do. It's my fault for saying I love you so fast."

"I love you," he said, his voice like a fist to her chest. "I don't know what I'm going to do. We almost can't stand being in the same room with each other."

"Alex, that's something you're going to have to work out on your own," Terry said, trying to be gentle with him. "I can't be your confidant. It's still painful for me, even if you had to do what you had to do. It doesn't make it any easier."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I feel like I keep saying that."

"Well, I'm glad you're sorry," she said. "I have something to tell you but you have to swear not to repeat it."

"What?"

"Swear?"

"Yes, of course," he said.

"Vince came here this morning and asked me to come back as a partner."

"That's wonderful," Alex said. "It's wonderful for you, but it's wonderful for me, too. To see you every day again, I can't imagine how much easier it will make all of this."

"We have to keep our distance, though," she said. "I won't be a mistress. I have too much respect for your wife."

"We're still divorced," he said. "We're not getting married again."

"Well, Alex, that's your business. But it will be nice to work with you. And we did make a good team."

Silence on the other end of the line saddened her. Maybe going back to work there wasn't going to be as easy as she'd thought it would be.

"Are you there?" he whispered.

"I'm here," she said.

"All those things I said to you when I was making love to you, I meant," he said. "I know you probably don't want to hear it right now, but we're not through. It might be a while before we can be together again fully, but we will be together unless someone else comes along for you."

Sighing, Terry wanted to hang up, it was senseless to talk about it. "Alex, I'm not even going to think about that. We'll see each other again next week. I'm going to say goodbye."

She knew he was still there because she could hear him breathing. "Goodbye," she whispered, ending the call. Snuggling into her pillow, fighting despair came next, with disappointment to follow. During a long weekend with him, she'd convinced herself that she was in love, that she was loveable. The damage of being in a relationship like the one she'd had with Arvin was wiped away, but just momentarily, because all of those feelings of inadequacy returned. It wasn't her fault that Jennifer was pregnant and that Alex had decided to stand by her. She decided it was admirable that he was trying to do the right thing by Jennifer.

The thing that was her fault was she'd gotten so drunk that she fell into bed with her law clerk, evidently screwing him into submission because the next day he moved into her apartment.

Cringing thinking about the things he'd done to her body, and moaning with regret over what she'd done to him, pulling the pillow over her head, her lack of judgement in a seething cesspool of self-hatred, she just prayed he didn't get drunk on tequila with anyone else in the office, and tell all her secrets.

Cycling through depression, to resignation, to understanding, she finally fell asleep again at noon.
Chapter 11

A crash in Benny's apartment woke her up at one thirty. He'd probably tripped over something on the way to the bathroom, or the cat knocked something over. Yawning, she stretched, deciding to get up and make her way to the used book store a few blocks away.

Brushing her teeth again, she would go au natural; just a little lipstick. Frost on the kitchen window led her to choose warm clothes, including knee boots, a heavy down-filled jacket, and knitted cap and mittens. A scarf, her phone and wallet, and she was ready to go. It had been ages since she did something like this; her head was empty of anything sad or stressful, her goal to enjoy herself.

The sidewalk along Germantown Avenue was cobbled and she had to be careful not to slip on the frosty stones. A trolley went by, and the traffic backed up behind it, impatient drivers trying to get around it reminded her of her hectic life, running from one place to the next, always in a hurry, unable to enjoy the journey. She'd make an effort not to allow that to happen to her.

Trudging up Germantown, she saw a table and chairs on the frosty sidewalk, occupied by two ladies bundled up, sitting outside having hot tea in spite of the cold. Would she ever have a friend like that? They looked so happy together. Brenda had the potential to be a good friend, but her relationship with Larry transcended female friendships. If he was around, they were attached at the hip. Hating to call Brenda's house in case Larry answered, sometimes he'd join in their conversations which irritated Terry. Maybe she needed to ask herself why she was so rigid in her thinking. It was one thing to not like Larry, another to think Brenda owed her anything.

The closer she got, she could hear the women speaking to each other in a language which sounded eastern European. They looked up at her and smiled when she slowed down her pace. She'd have tea before she went into the book shop. The doorway was hung with fresh pine roping and white lights, evident on the gray day. Inside, a slender tree decorated with gingerbread and red ribbons made Terry think she might do a tree after all, remembering what Harry had said about keeping traditions.

The proprietor, a young man whom she'd seen around the neighborhood took her order. "I'll take it to go," she said. "I'm headed to the book store."

"He serves tea there for customers," he said, pausing.

"No, go ahead. I'll take my own this time. Have you shopped there yet?" she asked.

"Oh, yes. It's fabulous," he said. "I hope they make it. It's a tough time for small business, especially in this neighborhood."

"I'll have to make a point of going in there more often," she said, handing money over. "Thanks."

The women at the table smiled at Terry as she came out with her tea. The bookstore was next door. The sun peeked out for a second as fast moving clouds obscured its light. Pine wreaths hung on lamp posts, and the colonial buildings along the street had been decorated with electric candles in every window, wreaths on every door, and sparkling lights in the trees.

"I'm decorating," she said to the air.

The familiar field stone architecture juxtaposed with old frame structures looked perfect decorated for Christmas.

"Why didn't I ever notice this before? I really love this neighborhood."

The bookstore was ready for the holiday, the display windows on either side of the entrance festooned with pine roping like the tea shop had. Book carts with sale books were outside on the sidewalk. Opening the door, a gust of warm, fragrant air rushed out at Terry and she sniffed the air; cinnamon, pine, and something else she couldn't place.

"It's vanilla."

"What?" she asked, looking around to see who had spoken.

"Everyone who comes in sniffs the air."

Standing at the top of a library ladder looking down at her with a smile, Jason Saunders put the last of a pile of books he'd held in his arms into place in the top shelves. In her confusion, she couldn't help but notice that he looked like a fashion model from the nineteen seventies, with a knitted argyle vest over a white dress shirt, even wearing a tie. She took it all in; from his handsome, chiseled face, clean shaven, black hair perfectly coiffed, down to his argyle socks and polished wing tips.

"But how did you know there was a scent I couldn't place?" she asked.

"The place is loaded with cinnamon from the tea shop's baked goods, and pine from the roping. The question is always, 'I recognize the cinnamon and the pine, but what's the other scent?' It's the candle," he said, coming down the ladder, pointing. "Vanilla."

"Oh, gotcha," she said, laughing. "I'm a little slow today."

"Not really. My attempt at small talk and flirting is obviously lame."

Hopping off the ladder, he extended his hand, further confusing her. Did he greet every patron like this?

"Welcome to Book Heaven," he said after introducing himself. "I'd offer you tea but I see you've come prepared."

She held her cup up. "Yes. I've wanted to come in here since you opened and I finally have a day off."

"Well, make yourself at home," he said.

"Ah, I see my genre," pointing at a sign, Crime Fiction, calligraphy written in red ink beckoned her.

She climbed three steps to a long hallway divided into cubicles designated for different genres. In the Crime Fiction cubical, a low, upholstered chair invited her to sit and read, and she did just that, losing herself in her favorite authors.

Losing all track of time, it wasn't until the jiggling of the bells on the front door snapped her out of her trance that she realized she'd been there for forty-five minutes. A stack of books were coming home with her, two trips to the counter necessary she had so many.

"I see you found something," Jason said, teasing, taking the stacks from her.

"I know what I'll be doing for the next few days," she said, getting out her wallet.

"Come back on Saturday," he said, pushing a postcard invitation across the counter. "Jessie Wilcox will be here to do a reading of her new mystery."

Terry was familiar with her writing. "Thank you," she said. "I'll do that."

"Can I carry these out to your car?" he asked.

"I'm in the neighborhood," she said. "I walked over."

"This is a lot to carry," he said. "I can deliver them later if you'd like."

"I think I'll be okay," she said, smiling. "If you can divide them in two bags, I'll be balanced."

She paid with a credit card and he handed her the receipt.

"Thank you so much," he said. "That's the largest sale I've ever made on a Wednesday."

"I hope not for long," she said. "This is a great shop. I'll let my neighbors know they need to get over here."

Another customer entered and offered Terry a chance to get away. Talking with Jason Saunders was almost too nice, making her feel guilty that she could transfer her feelings from being sad about Alex to interested in Jason so quickly.

Careful not to slip on the wet cobblestone on her way down the hill toward home, she realized that was the beauty of not being married. It was Alex who had ex wife problems. She had nothing of which to feel guilty.

***

At six-thirty that night, immersed in modern London crime fiction, after eating warmed up leftover Chinese food from Saturday night, the buzzer rang.

Getting up to look at the security camera, she'd had more company that day than she'd had in the previous month. Pressing the button, she saw a familiar man on the screen, and then that it was Jason from the bookstore. Alarm bells went off. Why would he be there, and how did he know where she lived?

"Can I help you?" she said.

"It's Jason Saunders," he said. "You left your credit card at Book Heaven this afternoon. I'm so sorry. I know this seems a little creepy. I found your address online."

"I'll be right down," she said, taking a quick look in the hallway mirror.

Earle was standing in his doorway, waiting for her. "Do you need a chaperone?" he asked.

"Maybe," she said. "He's awfully good looking. Now shush."

"I'll be right here," he said, closing his door.

Turning the lock, she couldn't help smiling when she saw him again. "Thank you so much for bringing it by," she said. "I didn't notice it was missing. I'm going grocery shopping with my father tomorrow and I'd go to pay for my food and there wouldn't be a card."

She heard Earle's door opening again. "Oh, this is my neighbor. Earle, this is Jason from Book Heaven," she said.

"Oh! I love that store," Earle said. "Come in out of the cold. I just made a hot toddy."

"Are you sure I'm not interrupting?" Jason asked.

"Not at all. Come in," Terry answered, standing back to let him through.

She loved Earle's apartment, its cozy fireplace and book-lined walls. It was the original living room of the house, divided into the sitting room and Earle's bedroom. A narrow hallway led to a small bathroom and the original, gigantic kitchen.

"Have a seat," Earle said. "I'll bring the drinks."

"My dad brought pastry this morning from Eagles. Should I get them?" Terry asked.

"Drunks don't like sweets," Earle said. "But perhaps Jason would like dessert."

"I'm fine thank you," he said.

When Earle left the room, Jason turned to Terry again. "You live upstairs?"

"Yep, third floor," she said. "Where do you live?"

"Above my store," he said. "I bought the building intending on turning the whole thing into a single family residence, but the store was already full of books."

"I knew that place in the seventies," Earle said, bring three glass mugs in on a silver tray; so Earle. "The couple who ran the store were good friends of mine. They also owned an art gallery in Germantown. I had several solo shows there."

"That's beautiful," Terry said, pointing to a canvas in progress on the easel. "I love your landscape paintings."

"As you can see from the photo pinned to it, this is from Wissahickon Park."

"My favorite thing to do in winter is walk to Valley Green for hot chocolate," Terry said. "I might do that this weekend."

"We have Mrs. Dell's party Saturday night," Earle said.

"And don't forget Jessie Wilcox Saturday afternoon," Jason said. "It came out like I was asking you as a customer, but it was really my sneaky way to get a date."

"Oh! Is that right?" Terry asked, laughing. "Well I guess I'd better give you a real answer then. I'd like to attend."

"What did I miss?" Earle asked.

Telling Earle became part of the story of how Terry and Jason's friendship began. For Terry, meeting someone from the neighborhood, someone who had history there, a man the neighbors knew, made it interesting. She still didn't know much about him aside that he owned and lived above a bookstore, but it was enough for now. Plus he was a little too put together for even a metrosexual. Maybe he was gay.

"I hate to kick you young folks out," Earle said, "But my show comes on in ten minutes and I have to prepare for it."

"Oh! Of course, I almost forgot that it's Wednesday night! Survivor!" Terry exclaimed, placing the hot toddy cup back on the silver tray.

They made small talk, most of it forgettable, leaving the apartment. Standing in the hallway, Terry made a decision to invite Jason up for coffee.

"I'd like that," he said.

Once inside her apartment, she flicked off the answering machine and silenced her phones. She was going to be incognito for an hour.

Jason stood in the kitchen doorway as she made coffee. "What do you do when you aren't buying books?" he asked.

"I wish that's all I had to do," she said. "I just became a partner in a criminal defense law office."

"Yikes! Will you be my consultant? I'm writing a crime fiction book," he said. "Are you on vacation now?"

"This is my week of R & R. The real work starts on Monday," she answered. "Wow, you're writing a book! That's exciting."

"I hope so," he said, taking a mug of coffee from her. "Oh, are you moving?"

Confused, she didn't get it until she realized he was referring to the boxes stacked along the wall of Alex's things, and the contents of her office.

"No, not moving. I bought barrister bookshelves so I could finally get my books out of storage." It was a lie, but he accepted it.

"Straight ahead," she said, pointing to the dark living room. "If it's not too creepy, we can sit in the dark and look out the window. You can almost see to the park if you look to the right, and all the way to the Alden if you look straight out."

"That's a beautiful city view," he said, sitting on the window seat.

She put her mug on a small table and pulled the winged back chair over so she could see out, too. "When I bought this place, I bought it for that window. I can't tell you the dreams and hopes that have been made looking at that view!

"Have you always been a writer?" she asked, hearing that he was a writer was as incredible as if he'd said he was an astronaut. "I've never known a writer."

"Actually, I was a high school English teacher until the millage didn't pass last election cycle and I lost my job."

Encouraging him to talk gave Terry a chance to really look at Jason Saunders. Unlike the exotic Arvin, or the courtroom drama television hunk Alex, Jason was runway model beautiful, with a sort of lean look bordering on gaunt. The concern that he might be gay ran through her mind again. Even his nails were manicured. But why would he want to date her if that was the case?

Getting a peek at her reflection, she pressed her lips together to keep from laughing out loud. If he still wanted to date her after seeing her tonight; on little sleep, no makeup and bum around clothes, he was a catch. But as they talked, she noticed the absence of any chemistry for Jason and it flattened the enthusiasm she first felt about getting to know him. They would just be friends. At eight-thirty, coffee gone, she stifled a yawn, and stood up.

"I'll take that," she said, reaching for his cup.

"Well, thank you so much," he said. "I've enjoyed your apartment."

"Thank you," Terry replied, leading the way down the stairs. "I'll drop by the store Saturday afternoon."

"That'll be nice," he said. "Would you like to have dinner with me after the reading? My niece works for me on Saturday so I can leave as soon as it's finished."

"I'm sorry, my neighbor is graduating from Drexel and her party is Saturday," Terry said, not asking for a rain check.

"Oh, right, your neighbor had mentioned it. Okay then. I'll see you Saturday," he said, smiling.

She unlocked the door and waved as he turned to say goodbye again. With a sense of relief and a little chuckle, she went back up to her apartment. Jason would be a friend, but that was it. Maybe Alex had ruined her for other men because she really loved him. It made her so sad again, and the cycle continued.

Getting into the shower, she spotted Alex's empty shampoo bottle that he'd tried to eek one more use out of and it annoyed her enough that she got out of the tub, tracked wet footprints through the house, and threw it in the trash in the kitchen. "You're being ridiculous," she said, getting back into the tub to bathe.

Afterward, hoping a cup of chamomile tea would counteract the caffeine from the coffee; she made a cup and sat back on the window seat in her bathrobe, wet hair dripping on her shoulders. With heavy eyelids, she forced herself to get up and take the cup back to the kitchen, pouring the rest of the tea down the sink.

It was not uncommon for Terry to fight the tiredness and find something to do that might occupy most of the night, but tonight she needed to sleep. Forgetting to turn the phone ringers back on, with empty thoughts, she went through her nighttime ritual; barricading the door to her apartment, and the one to her bedroom, got into bed, and fell immediately to sleep.
Chapter 12

At a candle-lit table for two in an expensive restaurant in Center City, ER doctor Arvin sat across from a lovely nurse whose name had flitted out of his head shortly after they were seated. It didn't seem to make much difference in the conversation they had; she was too young for him anyway, and by the end of the meal, even his desire for her was non-existent.

When she got up to go to the ladies room, Arvin quickly got out his phone and dialed Terry's number. He missed her. As much as Arvin was incapable of making a commitment to a woman, Terry was as close to being someone that he could spend the rest of his life with if he had to, especially if it was in the capacity of being a friend. Although the sexual attraction for her was somewhat forced, he loved Terry as a friend.

The rare times in his life where he could really be himself, really relax, was when he was with Terry. But because of his disrespectful treatment of her for which he was extremely regretful, she'd shut him out of her life. Since early evening, he'd tried calling both her numbers, landline first just to annoy her, and then cell, and when she didn't answer either one, he gave up. He'd take the nurse to bed because she expected him to, and she was better than his hand.

The next morning, she left his apartment for work, wearing the same thing she'd worn the day before. Fortunately, she changed into scrubs for her OR job. Arvin finally remembered her name was Patricia about ten minutes before she left.

"Have a great day, Patricia," he said, standing with the door open, willing her to leave so he could take a dump.

"Will you call me later?" she asked, her arms around his neck.

"Sure! Catch up later," he said. "Maybe I'll even see you downstairs."

Downstairs being the hospital lingo for the ER.

"Call me later, Arvin," she said, winking.

Patricia might have been a mistake, he thought, as aggressive in the outside world as she was in bed. Usually, he'd enjoy the sex just because his dick was getting a workout, but last night, between worrying about Terry, and aggravation that she didn't answer the phone he'd had a shock; his first experience with impotence. He got it up alright, but he couldn't finish. When it was clear it wasn't happening for him, he pretended.

"Oh, God," he muttered, plopping down on her, burying his face in his pillow away from her hair that smelled strangely like BO. "That was good."

"Now it's my turn," she said, guiding his hand between her legs.

There was no way in hell he was going to do it, so his way around having to touch her, he told her it would be a big turn on if she'd do it herself and let him watch. She was happy to oblige and put on a show for him that he was sorry he hadn't video taped. If there was a next time, he'd be sure to take advantage of it.

So when she finally left his south Philly apartment, he could get his day started. First, he'd call Terry again. It was early, not yet seven, but he rang the numbers anyway, and she still didn't answer.

Flipping through his address book, he found Brenda and Larry's number and dialed that instead.

"You're not calling out sick, are you?" Larry asked.

"No man, I just have to talk to your wife," Arvin said.

"She's still sleeping," Larry said.

"I'm up," Brenda said, turning over in bed. "Who is it?"

"Arvin," Larry said, handing her the phone.

"What's going on?" Brenda mumbled into the phone.

"Terry won't answer her phone," Arvin answered, a touch of hysteria in his voice.

"She's taking the week off, Arvin. She's probably still sleeping."

"No, I tried last night, too," he said. "Did she give you any indication that she was mad at me?"

"You mean above the normal crap? No, not recently. Give her a chance to wake up, and call her later," Brenda said, and then decided to be straight with him. "Arvin, grow up. We're all sick and tired of your shenanigans."

"What did I do?" he whined. "What did I do?"

"This BS with the other women has got to stop. She's not going to tolerate that, ever. You got it?"

"I can't!" he cried.

"You can! You went to medical school, for God's sake. Stop with the other women, Arvin. It makes you look like a dog."

Thinking of what he'd gone through the previous night, forcing himself to have sex with the young nurse just because she was there and he was afraid not to, this was the first time he wondered if he could really stop womanizing.

"I'll try," he said. "I won't like it, but I'll try."

"If you really want to be with a wonderful woman like Terry, you'll find a way to stop," Brenda said. "I have to hang up now because Larry's leaving. You're going to be late."

Upset, more from frustration and fear than Terry not answering her phone, Arvin knew he was at a crossroad. Stopping to thumb through yesterday's mail on his way out the door, he took quick stock of his life. He was an adult. Living in the same crappy apartment in south Philly he'd lived in during his residency, it reminded him of youth.

Among the bills and requests for money from his alma mater was a Christmas card from Jerry, his former roommate. An Ob/Gyn doc, Jerry grew up long ago, got married eight years before, and started a lucrative practice in Florida. Arvin was ostensibly doing the same thing he'd been doing in his residency, but making more money. Ripping the envelope open, Jerry had signed the card, a photo card of his beautiful family. When will I get a card like this from you?

Throwing the mail down on the hall table, he grabbed his coat and left the apartment. He'd get a cab into work today; it was too cold to walk the two miles.

A motor vehicle accident had just arrived so he stayed busy that morning, but by ten he had a moment where he could call Terry. Ducking into the triage booth, it was safe and private for the time being.

"Terry, it's Arvin," he said, out of breath.

"Are you running somewhere?" she asked. "Why are you wheezing?"

"I'm nervous," he said. "I've tried calling you a few times in the last twenty four hours. Then I called Brenda and she gave me a critical analysis of my behavior."

"I'm sorry, Arvin," Terry said. "I don't want you to be nervous."

"What are you doing?" he asked, finally thinking of her.

"I'm on my way to see my dad," she said. "We sort of started to grocery shop together. I like it a lot."

"That's nice," he said. "It sounds comforting. I liked doing things with my dad, too. I miss him everyday."

"I'm sorry, Arvin. I can't imagine not having my dad around. What did you want to talk to me about?" she asked.

"If I straighten up, will you see me again?" he asked.

"Oh, Arvin, we've been friends for a long time. Do you really think you can change your behavior? You said yourself that it was ingrained, or something like that."

"I'm going to stop with the other women. It hasn't been working for me anyway. I think I'm growing up."

"Ha! Oh you do, do you? Well, that will be very nice if you're able to do it," she said.

"So, when can my second chance begin?" he asked.

"Arvin..."

"Please, Terry. I'm sorry, okay? Truly sorry. I know that I want you in my life for the rest of my life. Won't you at least think about it?"

"I guess I could do that. There are a few criteria," she said. "You can probably guess what they are."

"Oscar," he said. "You'll want me to divorce Oscar."

"No I don't want you to divorce Oscar. But can you make the changes you need to and still be friends with him? He's an adult man and still lives with mom. That's a concern."

"Oscar hasn't had much time for me lately," he said. "He's got a new girlfriend."

"Oh! Now I see where all this is coming from!" she said, laughing. "I have Oscar to thank for you coming to your senses."

"Probably," he said. "It was a shocker."

"I'll think about it, okay, Arvin? I have a lot coming up."

"Did you find another job?" he asked.

"Sort of. I'll tell you about it next week," she replied. "Maybe you can come up here to my apartment for a change."

"I'm sorry I've never been up there," he said. "I'm afraid of that part of town."

"Why on earth?"

"It's scary," he said. "North Philly is dangerous."

"Arvin, this is Mount Airy. I don't know what your babes are telling you, but this is a great area. You'd fit right in, trust me."

"Okay, I'll come up there."

"We'll talk about it later," she said. "And not for a boo-tay call, either. No way. We are just going to be friends."

"I know," he said, contrite. "I'm sorry about all that. I really want you in my life, even if it's just to be my friend."

"Yes, well we shall see," she said. "I'd better get off. I'm in traffic now."

They said goodbye and although she couldn't be sure that what he'd just said was sincere, it appeared that she and Arvin were friends again.

***

Jennifer Hawthorn reached back into her memories of Alex and their relationship, the things that attracted him to her in the first place; he was ambitious and that was key for her. He was also good looking and knew how to dress. In her line of business, it was imperative to have someone eye catching on your arm.

Their marriage was somewhat stable until he joined the service, and then volunteered for Iraq; anger at him for making such a monumental decision overshadowed any of the good they established.

"Why did you do it?" she cried.

"I needed the direction," he admitted. "I'm not crazy about law after all. I mean, I'm sure I will be once I figure out what field I want to go into, but right now, I'm floundering."

"Alex, you're married. We set goals together. Joining the Army is not something a married man does without conferring with his wife."

Six months later, Alex told her he was being deployed, and that was it for her. She'd try to tolerate it for the year he'd be gone, but she just couldn't last that long. Not exactly sending him a Dear John letter, she got involved with another man while Alex was gone, someone she met at her job in Manhattan. Being with the man in the city was so far removed from the life she had with Alex in Princeton that it almost didn't seem to be happening, she could forget for days at a time that Alex even existed.

The night Alex returned home from Iraq, she had sex with him because that was one thing she should do which seemed normal. Within days, hours even, she'd had enough of him and his moodiness and moved into a hotel. Shortly after that, the relationship with her co-worker ended. They remained in contact because of the job, but that was it.

The following month, she discovered she was pregnant. Blessed with a long fuse, and an even longer tolerance level, she waited, convinced the mess she was in would straighten out as time passed.

A marketing conference at Penn came up and she took it, looking at it as an opportunity to reconnect with Alex if there was anything to salvage. Expecting him to spend time with her while she was in Philadelphia, disappointment set in when he didn't even come home Saturday night, so she left to go back to New Jersey.

Jennifer Hawthorn woke up sick Thursday morning after returning to her apartment. Alex had made the effort to say he'd stand by her until the baby was born, but she wasn't sure it was going to be enough. Resentment grew because Alex had refused to consider looking for a job closer to her. Before she left for the office Thursday, she made another pleading call to him, which he was quickly growing to dread.

"If I must move to New Jersey," he'd said, grasping at anything which would get Jennifer to leave him alone, "I can commute. Thousands of people do it everyday."

"Alex, you have to be out of that awful apartment by the fifteenth. Why don't you move out now and come back to New Jersey?"

Fighting his true feelings, it was so much easier to be nice to her when they weren't constantly under each others feet. But if they were going to make a go of their relationship, he should try to live with her. "Okay," he said, resigned. "I'll move back this weekend."

"I'm scared to death I'll go into labor alone here."

"Jennifer, you're only four months," he said. "Try not to work yourself up."

Sitting with the phone in her hand after they hung up, Jennifer accepted that trying to save their marriage due to a pregnancy was going to be tough. Alex was somber and morose, which Jennifer chalked up to PTSD from his tour in Iraq. She didn't know about Terry Kovac, never suspected that Alex was in love with someone else. Acknowledging that the marriage was over when she'd filed for divorce the first time, she hoped they had a chance, because the thought of raising a child alone was not pleasant.

Figuring out a way to tell Alex she was pregnant in the first place took all of her creativity. Taking a half day off on Tuesday, the plan was to prepare a romantic dinner at his apartment in Philadelphia. She shopped on the way into the city, buying rib eye steak, his favorite, with twice baked potatoes, fresh asparagus, salad and a cherry cheese cake for dessert. Arriving at two that afternoon, she was surprised that it appeared he'd removed most of his belongings. It looked like he was preparing to move again.

Trying not to pry, she didn't dig through his things, although it was tempting. Instead, she texted him, not telling him she was there, but trying to figure out if he was coming back before she made a meal for nothing.

We need to talk about some unfinished business regarding our divorce. Can we talk on the phone tonight? She texted.

I'll be home by six. Call me then, he answered.

She felt safe fixing the food, preparing for his arrival. They were going to have a baby!

On Tuesday night when Alex returned to his apartment to pick up the rest of his belongings to move to Terry's apartment and take the call with Jennifer, he was shocked to smell steak cooking, and see candles lit when he opened the door.

"Surprise!" she said, wearing little else than an apron and high heels.

"Jennifer..."

"I know, Alex. But I have something to say. Will you just listen to me? Take your coat off and sit down. I promise it won't take long."

"Put some clothes on," he said, clearly not happy with her attempted seduction.

Not arguing with him, she grabbed her coat and put it on.

"Do you want to eat?" she asked.

"No. What is it? What did you want to talk to me about?"

Jennifer knew Alex well enough to know that he responded to a positive approach so that was the way she'd word her news.

"Alex, I have exciting news!" she said, jumping up and down a little bit.

"What?"

"We're pregnant! I just found out," she lied. "I'm almost sixteen weeks."

Standing up, his overcoat still on, Alex began to pace. He ran his hands over his head. Standing at the window, he ignored the lights of the city and closed his eyes. What was she telling him? One sexual encounter when he got back and now they were stuck?

"I thought you were on the pill," he said.

"There was no reason to stay on it while you were gone," she replied.

With her New York lover, they used other means because she wasn't certain she was the only one he was sleeping with and she wanted to stay healthy. This information wasn't shared with Alex.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Alex asked.

Why didn't she? So many thoughts swarmed through her mind. She was uncertain herself whether or not she would have the baby. Then, she didn't know that she could tolerate living with Alex.

"Because I'm telling you now," she said, unwilling to let him intimidate her. "Either you want to be involved, or you don't. It's up to you."

After he paced a while longer, he sat down at the table, pushing the plate away. "So I guess we're having a baby together," he said. "What's next?"

"Oh, I'm so happy! I think we should try living together," she said. "But I hate this place and I'm not crazy about this city, either."

"My job is here," he said.

"We'll discuss that later," she replied, leaning over to blow out the candle.

"I have an errand to run," he said, standing up.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I'll be back in an hour or two."

And with that, he was gone. He came back later, ignoring her. "You can have the bedroom," he said. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"Just for tonight," she said. "I'm going back to my own apartment in the morning. I can't commute to Manhattan from here."

Wherever he went that night, he returned later in a foul mood, refusing to talk to her outside of the basics. He'd brought in bags from a fast food restaurant, and sat in sweatpants with legs crossed under him on the couch, the television blasting away, eating smelly burgers and fries.

The next morning she got up at dawn to get to work on time, Alex still on the couch. He let her kiss him on the cheek when she left. Stinking of old grease and bad breath, she wondered if she would be able to tolerate him for the sake of a pregnancy.

Two days later, she was feeling a little hysteria. Although he'd said he'd move to New Jersey, she felt it was a peacekeeping mission and not because he really wanted to live with her, his distance from her growing if it was possible.  
The question remained – would they be able to make the marriage work.
Chapter 13

December 8th

Christmas was in full display at Mrs. Dell's graduation party. The old colonial stone house, built in the early nineteen hundreds, lent itself to all the trappings of a traditional Christmas. Every inch of the interior was a feast for the eyes, with collections of antique nativity scenes and winter dioramas galore.

Terry dressed for the party, unearthing an ancient plum velvet long skirt she'd had in high school, worn with the fuzzy white angora sweater which immediately shed fur all over the skirt.

"It's fine," Harry Kovac said when she complained about it to him. "You look like you're covered in frost. It's very appropriate."

Harry chatted in depth with Earle and Mrs. Dell while Terry studied little miniature winter scenes the hostess had arranged for her party. One of Terry's favorites from years past was a scene of penguins ice skating on a small mirrored pond, surrounded by Victorian cottages. Lighted Dickens Villages and mechanized Christmas characters covered every surface. Sipping a hot coffee with Irish Crème, the alcohol went right to her head and she shivered when she realized she'd better slow down.

"Are you cold?"

Terry looked up at a kind and familiar face. "Did I just see you at Book Heaven this afternoon for the Jessie Wilcox reading?"

"That be it," he said smiling. "Rick Adams, unemployed musician."

"Is it your piano I hear on the way to the train every morning?" she asked, awestruck.

"It is," he said. "That be me. I don't know why I'm talking like this. I must be nervous."

"No, that be me," she said, laughing. "Why are you unemployed? You're amazing. A group of us waited for another train one day last summer just to hear the rest of Rachmaninoff."

"Wow, I'm so flattered. But I honestly didn't know the sound carried that far. I'm behind you on Mount Airy Avenue."

"So are you telling me I should close my shades?" she asked, smiling.

"No, please don't," he said. "I can only see at night if your light is on. I like watching you read."

"Oh jeez, the shades will be pulled tonight," she said, laughing. "So how do you know Mrs. Dell?"

"Besides living behind her? We actually took a class together about ten years ago in my attempt to try to do something else for a living," he said. "But the lure of the piano was too strong, so I'll just keep making guest appearances. The holidays are lean times. I have one more concert coming up. Then I'll play at church for the next few weeks until the winter concert season starts in February."

"It will be to the neighborhood's benefit then," she said. "I'll keep my windows open on warm days."

"Dinner is served," Mrs. Dell called out.

Guests filed into her dining room. "I've spied on many a dinner party in here from my bedroom window," Terry whispered to Rick.

"Third floor, correct?" he asked, and she nodded, pointing up to a third story window.

"Living here is wonderful, don't you think?" she asked.

"It certainly is," he said.

"You two are sitting together," Mrs. Dell said, winking. "Right over there."

They moved around the table to their spots, side by side.

"What a beautiful table!" Earle proclaimed.

"Hear hear Mrs. Dell," Harry Kovac called out.

Hired help for the evening served the first course while congratulatory speeches were made. Rick kept Terry entertained with his stories of the neighborhood, including vignettes from Benny and Earle's lives.

"We were so happy when you moved in," Rick said. "Especially Mrs. Dell."

"Why? Everyone is so nice here," Terry replied.

"Too many X chromosomes," he said.

Terry felt safe talking to Rick. If he'd been even remotely interested in her, she thought, he would have tried to meet her before now. It took a lot of pressure off her, and before she knew it, she was comfortably sharing life's stories with him, and he with her.

Dinner was an amazing meal of southern cooking, everything smothered in bacon, brown sugar, whipping cream and butter. Harry met her gaze and they both mouthed be careful.

A bit of each dish, and Terry was finished, pushing what was left around her plate. Watching the others dig in gave her a bit of concern; they'd be excusing themselves for the bathroom before too long. What a thing to think of! she thought.

Looking over at Rick's plate, she saw that he'd limited himself to a very small portion too, and did the same thing she was, sort of pushing it around.

"You've eaten here before?" she whispered.

"Yes. I had to vault the fence and almost didn't make it home last time," he said frowning.

"My dad went to the ER thinking he was having a heart attack," she said, nodding over to Harry.

"Your dad?"

"Yep, old dad," she said, nodding toward Harry. "The biscuits are amazing. I'll have one of those."

He passed her the basket of hot rolls and she took two, just to be safe. "In case I get hungry later," she said, smiling.

"What do you think of Jason Saunders?" Rick said.

"What do I think of him?" she asked, not sure what he was driving at. "I think he's very nice. What do you think of him?"

"I think he's in the closet," Rick said, a twitch on the side of his face.

"Are you interested?" Terry whispered.

"I am, big time. But I think he's got some ax to grind with the gay community here, and he's going to do it by denying who he is."

"Isn't that for him to decide? I mean, most of us have some aspect of our personalities that are better left under wraps."

"What's yours?" he asked. "That is if I may be so bold."

"I'm not sure, but I think I'm meant to be single and I haven't accepted it yet."

"Oh, I don't get that vibe at all," he said, closing his eyes and placing his hand on her arm. "I see you barefoot and pregnant, digging a garden in the backyard with little babies rolling all over the place."

"You do?" she asked, wistful. "Wow, that's a first. I've always been so focused on my career I've never given much thought to motherhood."

"Well, I see it," Rick said. "In my circles I'm known as the great seer."

"You are?" she asked, looking at him for confirmation.

"No, not really, but in my own mind I am."

They laughed, giving each other a gentle push. "I was interested in you as soon as we met," Terry said in a soft voice. "I felt chemistry with you. I'm a little regretful that you're gay."

"Is that right? Because I'll take it under consideration," he said, teasing her.

"I have so few friends," she said, matter of factly. "Do you suppose we're going to be friends?"

"I don't know, but it would be nice. A close friend died last year."

"It's so sad to lose someone you love," she said, at a loss for words.

Whether from paranoia or the Bailey's, Terry thought she noticed a distinct change of attitude in her dinner partner after the conversation.

"I'll be right back," he said, pushing away from the table.

Listening to the conversation swirling around her, she watched her father animatedly chatting with a female classmate of Mrs. Dell. Wondering if he'd ever consider dating again, Terry felt happy for him, knowing how lonely Harry had been since her mom died.

She looked up just as Rick returned. "Do you want to step outside with me?" he whispered. "I need a breath of air."

"Sure," she said, picking up her plate.

"Leave that plate right there," Mrs. Dell called out. "Come back for dessert; pie, bread pudding and more."

Following Rick out of the dining room, Terry glanced over at Harry who was still in deep conversation with the woman.

"Which coat is yours?" Rick asked, standing by the hall tree.

Terry reached for hers; long, red wool, and double-breasted. "This one."

"How festive!" Rick said. Holding up his, a Carhardt lined with plaid flannel, he laughed. "I'm ready to plow the fields."

"Do you want to farm? You mentioned gardening in the Earth Mother fantasy you had about me."

"It's my dream," he said, opening the door for her. "Every Sunday I drive out to Chester County and look at property.

"Wow, that sounds so nice," she said. "I haven't taken a Sunday drive since last summer."

"You ought to come with me tomorrow," Rick said, pointing to the swing on the expansive porch. "We can stop for lunch along the way. There are some interesting little diners along the route I take."

Thinking about her choices; she could wait for Arvin to call her, or spend the day with a new friend.

"I'd love to go along," she said, taking a deep breath. "I'm relaxing just thinking about it."

Sitting down side by side, he put his arm around Terry's shoulders, and she put her head back against him. "If anyone comes out here, they'll think we're in love," Rick said.

"We are, sort of. You've been watching me read at my kitchen table, and I've been listening to you play wonderful music for how long?"

"Five years," he said. "We've known of each other for five years."

The next morning, she got up, excited about her day. Rick called first thing. "Do you want to leave in an hour?"

"Perfect," she said. "Come for breakfast first."

"Really?" he asked. "I'm starving."

"Come."

After going through her morning toilette, she wrapped a bath towel around her head to protect her hair against cooking odors, and put a pound of bacon on. Mixing up pancake batter next, she got a pan out to heat, set the little table, and put butter and syrup out.

The buzzer rang, and she ran down the staircase to let Rick in.

"Are you converting to Islam?" he asked.

It took Terry a few seconds to figure out he meant the towel. "Ha! No, I'm cooking bacon and unless you want to smell bacon in my hair all day, I do this."

"I'd be happy to smell bacon all day," he said, laughing, following her up the staircase.

Standing aside to let him through the doorway, Terry was suddenly aware of being light hearted. Sniffing the air, Rick rubbed his belly. "Yum! Sunday breakfast."

"I don't cook it often, but when I do, watch out," she said. "Have a seat. I'll pour your coffee."

They made small talk while he looked out the window at her yard. "How much of that yard is yours?" he asked.

"As much as I want, I guess," she said. "Benny couldn't be bothered, and Earle likes to putter, but he says it's too much."

"If we have the time next spring, we'll do something with your yard."

Placing a plate of pancakes, eggs and bacon in front of him, pleased with herself, she said, "Bon appetite! I have more, but you said we would go out to lunch and I don't want to ruin that opportunity. I love to go out to eat."

"Oh, we're definitely going to do that," he said. "As you can tell, I love to eat."

"You have a very impressive physique," Terry said. "Don't put yourself down."

The buzzer rang out. "Honestly, for some reason my doorbell has rung more in the past week than it has in the past year," she said, getting up to look at the security camera.

"Oh! It's Jason Saunders," she said, turning back to the kitchen. "That's weird."

"I'll wait until you come back," he said.

"No! Finish up before it gets cold," she said, skipping down the stairs. "I hate cold food."

Standing in the window of the door, Jason was bundled up with a heavy jacket, a scarf, even ear muffs, and seeing them made her laugh, opening the door with a big smile for him.

"Good morning, Jason," she said.

"Is it too early?" he said. "I was taking my morning walk and couldn't resist coming up your path."

"Come in," she said, stepping aside. "Rick Adams is here having breakfast with me."

"I don't want to interrupt your meal," he said, frowning.

"Come. I have plenty for you, as well. You want to replace those calories you burned walking, don't you?"

She led the way into the apartment, pointing to the kitchen. "Go in there and have a seat," she said. "I'll take your coat."

Keeping one ear peeled, she wanted to hear the conversation. She couldn't be sure, but she thought Jason might be admonishing Rick.

"I don't want to sit in your place," Jason said when she walked in.

"I have the stool," she said, pulling a high stool over and moving her plate. "How about bacon and pancakes and coffee?"

He agreed, although she wondered if he wasn't just agreeing to be personable. By his lean physique, he certainly didn't appear to have bacon and pancakes on a regular basis. They made small talk and in the interim, she felt a distinct tension between the two men.

"I'll be right back," she said. "If you're sure you don't want more food, I'm going to take breakfast down to Earle."

It wasn't something she regularly did, but she wanted to give the men room to talk. Having no idea what their problem was, whatever it was definitely was not being helped by her presence.

"I'm stuffed," Rick said, leaning back in the chair.

"Me, too. No more for me," Jason said, picking up his plate.

"Stay put," she said, reaching for it. "You be done there, Ricky? How about more coffee?"

"That be it," he said, laughing.

"I'll be right back," she said, taking a container of food with her.

Wishing she was a fly on the wall, she was sure that either the trip to look at a farm would be cancelled, or Jason was going to tag along.

"Knock knock," she said to the crack in Earle's door.

He was sitting at his easel, a paint brush in hand.

"Ah, my lovely neighbor," he said. "Come in, come in."

"No I can't, I have two men upstairs waiting for me," she said.

"Both gay," Earle said. "Don't waste your time."

"They're just friends," Terry said, handing him the food.

"You're not kidding," Earle said. "What's this?"

"Breakfast. Pancakes and bacon."

"Oh, delicious! I'll eat it for lunch," he replied.

"Goodbye, my friend. I'd better get up there to see if my plans for the day have suddenly changed."

"You can count on it," he said.

But when she got back to her apartment, the conversation seemed amicable enough, Jason getting up to leave. Rick was at the counter, pouring more coffee into his cup.

"Are you taking off?" Terry asked.

"Yep, better get the store opened up. I have noon on the door in case I get an invitation I can't pass up. But if I open up now, when church lets out at ten, I might get a few customers."

"See you around, Jason," Rick called out.

Terry followed Jason down the stairs. "You won't have to go to the gym today," Jason said. "Your third trip."

"My body is immune to the stairs," she said. "Have a nice day, Jason. I hope you sell a ton of books."

He nodded, but seemed to be on the brink of saying something; then shook his head and turned to leave.

"Jason, what?" she asked. "If you want to speak, speak."

"Why are you wasting your time with him?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, stymied.

"Rick! He's gay, you know that, right."

"So," she said. "So what."

"Why are you going to spend the day with him?" Jason asked. "I don't get it. I thought we made a connection the other night."

"I don't understand," she said. "So what if we made a connection."

"Never mind," he said, turned again.

"Jason, I can't read your mind, alright? I'm too old, and too tired to play games. If you're interested, do something about it. In the meantime, I'm spending the day with someone who felt I was worth making the effort to see. Meanwhile, don't let the gate hit you in the ass. Goodbye."

He stood there with his mouth open, and she closed the doors, nodding at him with a smile before she turned to run back up the stairs. Had all the men on earth taken leave of their senses?

Rick was waiting at the top of the stairs. "Well, did he ask you on a date?"

"No, and I wouldn't have gone, anyway. I am not interested in Jason Saunders. I thought you were," she said.

"He's kind of a weasel, isn't he," Rick said, chuckling.

"Yes," she answered, shortly. "So, shall we head to lands south?"

"Yes!" he said, high-fiving with her.

Laughing, they grabbed their coats and ran down the stairs like teenagers going to a party. Terry followed Rick to his truck parked on the street. "You really should be a farmer," she said.

"I told you," he replied, unlocking her door and holding it for her.

"My dad would be jealous of this truck," she said.

Setting out for their adventure, Terry's lighthearted joyfulness was contagious, and before long Rick was transported, too. It would be one of the best Sunday's both of them had in a long time.
Chapter 14

December 10th

Monday morning, Terry was putting her shoes on when the phone rang. It was Rick.

"Are you on your way out the door?"

"Just about," she answered. "Why are you up so early?"

"I have a job in Pittsburgh this week," he said. "I completely forgot to mention it. I'm leaving soon. It takes about six hours to get there. Tomorrow I'll practice with the orchestra, then Wednesday night there's a concert. You can watch it online if you want."

"Of course I will! How exciting," she said.

"Have a good day at your first day of being a partner," he said. "I'm so impressed."

"Thank you, Rick. That means a lot to me."

They exchanged pleasantries and finally said goodbye, Rick promising to call her that evening to see how her day went.

"Text me when you get to Pittsburgh so I don't worry," she replied.

"Aw, you don't have to worry about me, but it is nice," he said.

Bundling up for her walk to the train, Terry took a last look in the mirror. She was wearing a pantsuit. It was old, since her law school days, but classic, with slim, ankle-length pants and a longer, fitted jacket. At least her legs would be warm.

Rick had helped her put her boxes of books on the porch the night before, and a messenger service was going to come by that morning to take them back to the office, all at Vince's expense.

In twenty-four hours, Rick had become the friend Terry had lacked. Although she loved Brenda, Terry couldn't share the news about work with her or the drama with Alex. That left seventy-five percent of her life unshareable.

Her briefcase weighed more than usual, and it pulled on her shoulder as she trekked down the hill. The usual collection of people waited at the train, stamping their feet to stay warm and keep the circulation going. A horn beeped and everyone looked up in time to see Rick in his truck waving madly at Terry.

"Call me later!" she cried out, oblivious to the smiling faces finding the unabashed affection refreshing as he yelled back, "Of course!"

"Boyfriend?" an older man asked.

"No, my neighbor," she said. "Just a very good friend."

Their conversation started up a conversation among the others, how they all lived in the area of the train station, and how strange it was that no one who rode the train seemed to know anyone else.

"I've been riding this train for over twenty years," one lady said. "Imagine, on the same train, with some of you same people for over twenty years, and no one knows my name."

"Do you know mine?" the man said. "I've been here everyday too, and have seen you."

"No, I'm afraid I don't," she said, looking sad.

"People are tired in the morning," Terry said. "It took all of our energy to get here. No one wants to make small talk in the morning. And at night, I'm so happy to be going home, I'm almost in a trance when I get on board."

"Me too!" the lady said.

"So I don't think it's uncaring that no one knows my name," Terry said. "I'm actually kind of glad."

The others started to laugh, but the man shook his head. "It's sad," he said. "We should have a get together for Christmas this year."

"Do you really want to celebrate a holiday with a bunch of strangers? We don't have anything in common except we ride the same train. I could be an ax murderer for all you know."

"Are you?" someone asked.

"Not yet," Terry said, and the others laughed. "But the day is young."

Girding her patience, Terry knew seeing Alex was not going to be easy. She'd managed to forget about him for a few hours, and it was nice and peaceful. But on the way in to Center City, the uneasiness of working with him again increased. Vince was correct forbidding interoffice relations after all. Bypassing catching a cab to the office, she hoped walking would help her deal with the anxiety.

Arriving right at nine, she was surprised to see that her boxes had arrived ahead of her. Corinne, the receptionist stood up when Terry walked in, giving her a warm hug, surprising Terry.

"We are so glad you came back, especially Brenda," she said. "Vince made the announcement about five minutes ago that you're a partner. You have a new office, too, back in the executive suite."

"Thank you so much, Corinne," Terry said. "I'm happy to be back. I guess I'll just follow my boxes."

"Yep, right around back," Corinne said.

The relief that she no longer had an office that adjoined Alex's was palpable, her new office was between Paul's and Vince's, like a buffer between two bulls. A huge bouquet of red roses sat on the credenza placed under the long window, dwarfing several other arrangements. Placing her briefcase on the floor, she went to the roses and reached for the card.

Congratulations and have a wonderful day! Love, Rick. The gesture was so sweet, she smiled, feeling a little weepy. From Harry, a beautiful Christmas arrangement; she'd take that home, another bouquet of roses from Vince and Paul, and a live, miniature rose from Brenda. If Vince had just announced that she made partner, how would Brenda know to get her flowers? Someone had her ear.

As the hours progressed, when the thought came to her, she refused to entertain it for a second. Like a nymph who peeked at her from behind the drapes, watched her from an open drawer, haunted her from a familiar voice echoing down the hall. It persisted throughout the day, through meetings with Paul and Vince, the county prosecutor, a new defendant, out on bail. There was nothing from Alex, not even a card.

***

Hiding behind the door of his office, Alex watched Terry through a crack on the day she returned to work. Exquisitely dressed, the classic pants suit she wore was beautifully tailored. No one looking at her would know what he knew; that under that slim jacket were big, genuine breasts, breasts that she'd allowed him to make use of in whatever way he wanted.

The slim pants and long jacket hid her round, full, voluptuous ass. He closed his eyes, remembering that she got on top of him sitting backwards, and he watched his penis slide in and out of her while he held on to her hips. Taking a deep breath, he'd have to stop the daydreaming, or ask her for a replay. That's when it hit him; they weren't together any longer. That body wasn't his. He'd have to remind himself of that fact throughout the day, the disbelief so painful, he almost left the office.

The countdown to Friday began after her arrival Monday morning. Five days until Friday. He'd give anything if his ex would just go away and he woke up in bed next to Terry. Throughout the day, he'd hear her voice when someone opened her office door, or her light laughter when she left the office with the other partners to go to lunch. What had happened was his fault; she said she loved him. He should have never gotten involved with her. An unwritten rule should be always wait nine months after you have sex with your ex-wife before getting involved with anyone else.
Chapter 15

December 15th

Saturday morning, Terry woke up feeling horrible. Plans with Harry to grocery shop were a priority, so she tried to pull herself together. Showering and dressing first thing helped a little, but she still wanted to throw up. If she didn't have at least one cup of coffee, she could add a wretched headache to her already mounting list of complaints.

Popping a piece of stale white bread in the toaster, a leftover from Alex's brief appearance in her life, she ate that dry with black coffee and it helped a little.

The phone rang; Harry. "You getting ready to leave?" he asked. "We want to miss the housewives converging for the big pre-storm rush."

"Ugh, I forgot all about that. Yes, I'm headed out the door now."

The snow hadn't started yet, so the sooner she got shopping done, the better. Winding a scarf around her neck twice, she bundled up for the arctic blast they'd talked about on the news the night before. Rick had showed up with dinner; Chinese food, and an eight-foot high Christmas tree. They fell asleep on opposite ends of the couch just like she had with Alex, and at eleven when the news came on, the weatherman warned of this. After the broadcast, Rick left and Terry went to her bed, alone.

Rick would come back for dinner and Christmas decorating that night if Terry was up to it. Shopping for something special for dinner had been her original plan, but now that she was feeling a little under the weather, maybe a frozen lasagna better come home, too, just in case. The makings for chili and cornbread were easy enough and vegetable soup with homemade rolls, her mother's recipe, pure comfort food. There would be enough leftover that she wouldn't have to cook all week.

Passing by the feminine hygiene products, she grimaced. That was probably why she felt so bad; Aunt Flow was on her way, due around the tenth, and it was already the fifteenth. She reached for a box of tampons and piled other items on top of it so her father didn't have to make a silly comment as he was known to, when confronted with anything embarrassing.

"Will you split this with me?"

She turned around to see Harry standing behind her with a giant layer cake in a box. "Of course! I'd like a piece right now," she said. "I didn't feel like eating breakfast and now I'm starving. Plus my neighbor is coming for dinner. I'll serve it for dessert."

"I'll have the bakery cut it in half," Harry said. "By the way, I have a dinner date tonight, too."

"Dad! I'm so happy for you!" she said, hugging him. "Is it Mrs. Dell's friend?"

"Yes. Her name's Anna Polsky. She lives in Mayfair, so not too far away."

Terry smiled realizing that location would mean a lot to her father. If a woman lived across town, it would take too much effort to get to her. Mayfair was about a mile from Tacony.

"You can probably walk to her house," Terry said.

"That's the idea," Harry said.

They went through the checkout line and out to their cars. "Since it's cold enough that nothing will spoil, do you want to have a cup of coffee with me?" Harry asked.

"I'd love it," Terry replied, kissing his cheek. "Shall we get it right here?"

There was a coffee shop in the strip mall where the grocery store was located.

"Yes. I want to make sure you're okay with Anna," he said.

"Dad, I'm fine about Anna," she said. "I swear."

"I knew you would be. Anna told me her daughters were upset with her when she dated after her husband died."

"How long ago was that?" Terry asked.

"Twenty years. So they're probably used to it now," he said, chuckling.

"Yes! I'm truly fine with it," she said.

A flake of snow drifted down and landed on her nose.

"What on earth?" she said, looking at her nose.

"You'd better get home before it really starts snowing," he warned. "I'll be worried about you. We can have coffee later."

"Okay, thanks Dad, that's probably a good idea. I love you," she said, kissing his cheek.

Leaving Harry always evoked the same response in Terry, watching him in her rearview mirror watching her drive off; abject sadness. She understood why some of her acquaintances over the years preferred to live close to their parents. As they aged, or got sick and died like her mother had, part of the angst was the separation.

When her indefatigable mother got sick, to her family it was with an air of disbelief. Harry's love for her transcended what Terry imagined typical married love encompassed. Elizabeth Kovac was to Harry what Wallis Simpson was to King Edward.

The nightmare began in early summer when she was on the train on her way home from work when her phone rang.

"Are you sitting down?" Harry had asked.

"Oh, my God! Did you win the lottery?" Terry cried.

"No honey, I wish. Your mother is sick. I'm at the hospital with her now. They gave her something for pain, so she's sleeping, but as soon as you get home if you could come over..."

That was the beginning of the end. A backache that was blown off by her doctor for over a year received a pancreatic cancer diagnosis. The next day, after the scans were read and choices for treatment delivered to the family, Elizabeth made the decision to go home and wait it out, soon discovering she had two modes which helped her deal with the pain, walking and sleeping. Whenever Terry was able, she visited, including after work daily drop-ins where she'd pull up in front of the house, her parents standing outside, her mother looking beautiful and talking animatedly with Harry.

Entertaining was done mostly outdoors so Elizabeth could walk around. Standing in one place wasn't too bad, she could carry on a conversation, the pain steadily crescendoed, and then she'd say, "Come on, walk with me."

A frequent vision in the neighborhood, Elizabeth and Harry Kovac walked holding hands, laughing. At night, she'd stand at the stove cooking, swaying from side to side, eating her dinner standing up, and cleaning up afterward. But as soon as dinner was over, she got into the shower, the hot water beating on her body crucial. Harry tucked her into bed, and it was his job to switch ice packs to heating pads; twenty minutes on, twenty off, until she fell asleep.

Six months later, nothing would control her pain but medication, and hospice got involved. "You'd better say what you have to say to her because once she starts using morphine, the end is near," they were warned.

How Harry managed to recover from Elizabeth's death was a testament to the power of love. Harry loved his daughter too much to give up. Admitting as much to his closest friends, he'd considered suicide, but the thought of leaving Terry petrified him. "I'll wait until she gets married," he had said.

Half-way back to Mount Airy after shopping with Harry, it began to snow in earnest, big flakes drifting slowly down, clogging her windshield wipers until Terry put the defroster on full blast, the snow fall quickly switching to a heavy and fast blizzard. The snow reminded her of Christmas which reminded her of her mother. She never got over the pain of losing her, but the pain became a part of life that she got used to, little by little, taking some of the joy out of living.

By the time she got back on Mount Pleasant, the cobble-stoned Germantown Avenue was a treacherous ice rink. At the stoplight waiting to cross to her block, she looked north and Christmas lights were on at the tea shop and the book store, shoppers with hats and scarves bustling up the street, taking refuge in the stores.

The light turned green and she took her time driving the half block, carefully making a sharp right turn into her narrow driveway. Mrs. Dell and her son were in their driveway, leaving at the same time, and they waved to her, the son rolling down his window. Terry stopped in the driveway and rolled her passenger window down.

"You have company," Mrs. Dell said. "Don't want you to be surprised."

"In back?" Terry asked, pointing to the back yard because she didn't see anyone on the street, or waiting on the porch. "Be careful out there. It's getting bad."

"We will," Mrs. Dell said, and waved again before pulling out into the street.

Slowly driving up, a combination of uncontrollable annoyance and curiosity struck when she saw Arvin sitting in his car.

Parking next to him, she decided to be civil as much as she wanted him to leave. Quickly getting out her phone, she sent Rick a text.

An unexpected former friend is here. Stop by for coffee if you are free.

One good thing – she'd enlist Arvin's help unloading her groceries. Plastering a smile on her face she looked over at him and waved.

"I was wondering when you were going to look at me," he said with a questioning look, opening her passenger door. Arvin could be dense when it came to his understanding of women unless their intentions were directed at him.

"Sorry, I had to text my dad to let him know I was home safely before I forgot," she lied, although she'd do that now that she thought of it. "I'll be right with you."

When she stepped out of the car, Arvin moved right in for a kiss, but she made it quick. "Can you help me carry groceries up? You're here in the nick of the time."

"Sure. I won't have to go to the gym," he said.

"Hey! That's my line," she replied, laughing.

Opening the trunk, she handed bags off to Arvin, taking the one with the feminine products herself. They heard boots on snow and looked up just as Rick appeared, having come through the gate between their yards.

"I'm just in time, I see," Rick said.

Later Terry thought about her feelings, illogical as they might be, but she felt proud of Rick, he was so tall and muscular compared to Arvin who was lanky and looked tired. Then, she felt compassion for Arvin, who had devoted his professional life to taking care of trauma victims, passionate about his work, and generous in so many ways. Only his morals were lacking, his ability to be faithful.

She introduced them, and then, feeling unusually emotional, said, "You two are my favorite people. My best friends."

"Aw, you're my best friend, too," Rick said, meaning it.

"Can we take this mutual admiration society inside?" Arvin asked. "I'm freezing to death."

"Oh, sorry," Terry said, laughing. "Yes! Let's get upstairs."

Earle pounded on the window and waved to them, and she could see him running through his apartment to get the front door open for them.

"Earle, don't run!" she yelled.

"Oh my God, the snow is really coming down," Arvin said. "I'm not going to stay long."

"Well, let's at least get inside," Terry answered.

They trudged up the stairs to the third floor. "This is nice," he said, looking around.

"I told you," she said.

"You've never been up here?" Rick asked.

"No, we always met downtown," Arvin said. "I'm not sure why."

"You know why, Arvin! There's more nightlife down by you," Terry said. "I'd meet him after work. There was so much to do. It was wonderful. I guess I must have grown up because now I never want to leave my apartment."

"I can tell," Arvin said. "And what's with the tree? I'm shocked."

"Rick brought it for me," she said, proudly.

They looked at Rick who was smiling, pleased with himself.

"Are you two seeing each other?" Arvin asked, his disappointment palpable.

"You could say that," Rick answered, reaching for Terry.

Standing together they looked like a happy couple.

"I can stay for one coffee, and then I'd better head out," Arvin said, unsmiling. "I was on my way to your favorite person's house, but I think I'll go back down south."

"Oscar, right?" Terry asked, grimacing. "Arvin, are you and Oscar on the down-low?"

Laughing, he sputtered a little bit. "No! What a thing to ask. Oscar has a girlfriend now."

"That doesn't mean a thing," Terry said. "Never mind. That was tacky of me to say."

"It's fine," Arvin said. "But you know, I'm getting too nervous to wait for you to put all this crap away to make a cup of coffee. I'm going to head out. Rick, it was nice meeting you. Take care of my girl."

"Thank you, Arvin, it was nice meeting you, too. I know I'll see you again. I'm going to try to talk Terry into having a Christmas party."

Arvin looked shocked. "I won't believe it until I see it," he said.

"I'm not that anti-social, am I?" Terry asked him.

"Well, maybe not that. But having a party would definitely be out of your comfort zone," he replied.

"You know me too well," she said, sad.

"I'll play host if you want," Rick said.

"Why don't we just have it at your place then?" she asked, and Rick burst out laughing.

"Busted! Arvin, you can come to my house instead, okay? I'll play the piano for you," he said.

"You play?" Arvin asked, trying to keep Terry from pushing him out the door.

"The snow is piling up out there while you make small talk," she said, afraid Arvin would put one and one together that Rick was gay and then she'd lose her beard.

"That's true, I'd better get moving. Nice meeting you, Rick," he repeated, "Talk later, Ter."

She followed him down to the door and he didn't even try to kiss her goodbye, or turn to wave goodbye. Feeling empty, she locked the door.

Waiting for her at the top of the stairs, Rick handed her a cup of coffee. "I put all your stuff away. You'll probably have to move everything around but at least you can rest for a while."

"Aw, thank you so much," she said, forgetting about her sanitary products, he'd put those away, too, and later she found her tampons in the freezer, a practical joke. "It was a relief saying goodbye to Arvin. My time with him was so superficial; the only reason we stayed together for as long as we did is because it was so much fun."

"How long was that?" Rick asked.

"A long time. Right after I got the job until this fall. It didn't mean anything to him, as you could have probably sensed. I was just a booty call. Only I was stupid enough to go downtown for it." Suddenly, she paused, her eyes wide.

"Oh my God! I just had an epiphany! I was the one doing the traveling, I was the one who called him, so I was the one making the booty call! Poor Arvin just wasn't that into me, and it's just hitting me now. He didn't call me because he didn't care if he saw me or not. I made it so easy for him. He didn't even have to get into the car. Yikes, was I that needy?"

"No, you were just young," Rick said, hugging her. "You were doing other fulfilling things at the time so you didn't notice the lack, until now."

"I never told you about Alex," she said.

"I figured it wasn't good," he replied. "I didn't want to stir up bad memories."

"That's okay, I stir them up myself. I'm still smarting from what happened. We got drunk on a Friday, had what was basically an extended one night stand with declarations of love, and then the following Tuesday, he went back to his ex wife when he found out she was pregnant."

"Oh, yuck, I'm so sorry," he said.

"I must have really needed to hear the I love you. The problem? I was the attorney with more seniority, so I knew the rules; absolutely no fraternization. But like I said, we were so drunk, I didn't even remember the initial...coupling. When I got into work on Monday, and word had reached my now partner's ears, I was fired."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, that's terrible," Rick said. "How did it happen that you made partner after?"

"The senior partner learned we weren't seeing each other any longer, and I guess he couldn't function without me. I really don't know why he called me back. He'd extended the partnership to me before he fired me, so it was a double whammy."

"What's it like having to see the guy now?"

"I haven't had to yet," she said. "I'm in back with the executives and he's up front where I used to be with the worker bees."

They stood together, watching the snow come down. This would be a serious storm.

"I guess I'd better get back home. I have a bunch of stuff to do today before we decorate your tree tonight!"

"I'm making chili for dinner," she said. "With cornbread."

"Yum! I'll be back at six," he said. "Look at the snow!"

Blizzard conditions made visibility zero out her big living room window.

"It's so beautiful," she said. "I just love Philadelphia in the winter."

"You're insane," he said, hugging her. "I'll see you tonight."

Once the tree was decorated, Terry didn't know how she had managed all those years without one. It was so beautiful; the light cast shadows on the walls with a warm, colorful glow. She put the lights on a timer set to turn on so they would be lit before she got home from work at night.

Walking up the hill in the dark, getting to see all the decorated houses, the beautiful trees in windows helped her head clear of any detritus of the work day, and by the time she got to her own house and looked up at the third floor, her own tree lights shining, only a small, dull ache in her heart remained.
Chapter 16

Wednesday, December 25th

Christmas Morning

The second storm of the season hit, and snow had continued to fall throughout the night. The cable was out, internet sporadic. A weak signal on Terry's cell phone was about it for communications. Her father had texted her late Christmas Eve that his power and phone were out. He was in the process of draining the pipes in the house before they froze, then Christmas morning he'd walked to Anna's house in Mayfair where the power was still on. Sleeping in a sleeping bag in the living room with a fire in the fireplace, and a bucket of water to flush the toilet, he'd be okay.

Don't worry about me, he'd texted. Everyone and their brother are outside shoveling. I'll have plenty of company on the way to Anna's. I'll have to come back before dark to make sure the place is okay. I might just get a good fire going in the fireplace and stay here for the night again.

She knew he was probably worried about a break in. It wasn't unheard of in their neighborhood.

I love you dad, she'd wrote. I'm not budging.

When she woke up on the morning of the 25th, it was still toasty in her house, evidence of electricity. She heard the clanging of snow shovels on the sidewalk, but couldn't see who it was, maybe Mrs. Dell's son. He often did the sidewalk in front of the house as well as the path that led to the door.

Benny would shovel, but he had to work Christmas Eve, and she didn't hear him come back in the morning. If the day shift workers couldn't get into work because of the snow, he'd stay over to make sure there was staffing. He was a good guy that way.

Yawning, she put coffee on and padded into the living room to turn the tree lights on. The soft glow of the colorful lights were even more beautiful with the snow falling outside her window. In a moment of quiet contemplation, a zinger of a thought came to her, and she quickly put her coffee down, got up off the window seat and ran to the calendar on her kitchen wall.

Flipping back and forth between November and December, and then to October and back to December, her heart froze. A huge omission that she hadn't even grasped until that moment, so sure on the fifteenth that her period was coming because she woke up queasy and had a headache. Between the new job, running to and fro with Rick, Christmas shopping, seeing her dad, she didn't even miss it. But now, in the light of day, the smell of the coffee making her sick, waves of nausea and increasing tiredness, she realized it. She'd missed a period.

Flipping back to November, she then slowly turned to December again. Then back to November. November 30th. Sex with Alex. December 1st. Sex with Alex. December 2nd. Sex with Alex. She didn't write it on the calendar, but she wanted to. Instead, with a pencil, she wrote a very faint S. Another S, and then a final S.

"You dummy!" she said, throwing the pencil across the room

Like it was written in the sky, she suddenly got that the myth that emergency contraception would work for five days after the dose was taken was just that. A myth.

Placing her hands over her belly, she started to cry, thinking of the alcohol she'd consumed in the past month.

"Oh God!" she cried out.

She had to know for sure. The drug store in Chestnut Hill on Germantown Avenue was open twenty four/seven, even on Christmas Day, the jingle said. Reaching for her phone, she tried calling Rick. But the call wouldn't go through. He'd gone to his sister's house in Chadds Ford for Christmas Eve. It was possible he'd stayed there.

Are you home? Do you feel like four-wheeling? Texting him, she waited.

I'm home. Do you want to joy ride? He answered.

I want to go to the drug store in Chestnut Hill. I could walk, I guess. She wrote.

No way! Can you come through the gate? He asked.

Yes, I'll be right there.

Lipstick and eyebrow pencil and that was as good as it got. She pulled a knitted cap down to her eyes and grabbed her red wool coat, one that Rick had said time after time that he loved on her.

"You look like an angel in that coat," he'd say.

"An angel in a red coat?" Terry had asked, smiling, wishing he was straight.

Layering extra socks and pulling her rubber snow boots on, it was time to venture out. She peeked in on Earle, but he was sleeping on the couch, having a little morning nap. The snow had drifted three feet on the front porch, and she had to carefully find each step down. Lifting her leg up as high as it would go, she got through the back yard to the gate, which was barricaded closed with snow. Rick was waiting there for her and without asking, picked her up under her arms and lifted her over the fence.

"Oh, forget it," he said when he tried to put her down. "It's up to your waist back here. The wind blew it against the fence. It's not as deep in front."

He carried her the rest of the way to the truck.

"Our street is plowed so the bus can get down if it ever runs again, but they plowed our driveway closed. Benny must still be at work, and Earle is sleeping, thank God, so he won't try to shovel."

"I'll come over with my trusty snow blower."

He unlocked the passenger side door, waiting for her to get in.

"You have to stop taking such good care of me," she said. "When you find a boyfriend, I'll be so lonely I won't know what to do."

"Anyone I find will love you or they won't be my boyfriend, how about that?" he said, a smug look on his face.

"Oh, I hope so!" she said, laughing.

He didn't ask why she needed to go to the drug store. It was Rick's way, they shared so much, but they'd silently and mutually drawn a line at the waist when they became friends that certain topics were better left unshared. So unlike Alex, who talked freely about his gas and his BM's, Rick and Terry never mentioned bodily functions after Mrs. Dell's party, where Rick admitted he had hopped over the fence after eating her food, and almost didn't make it. It made their relationship more surreal, almost pure.

Moving a shifting device, he put the truck into four-wheel drive and with a little gas, popped the vehicle over the mountain of snow left after he had used the snow blower to clean the entire block's sidewalks off.

"Wow, you did all this?" she asked, in awe, laughing as he drove like a maniac over the snow the plows had pushed into place along Germantown Avenue.

"My dad used to tell me he had flashbacks of driving a jeep through the snow in China, so I pretend I'm doing the same thing when I drive," he said, with a devilish look in his eye.

"Well, we aren't getting stuck, so you must know what you're doing!" she cried, laughing as she held on while he plowed through the snow and the drifts. They passed the beautiful grounds of the old Pennsylvania School for the Deaf, the hillside dotted with sleds and toboggans, screams of delight echoing as the children zoomed down the snow-covered hills.

Soon, they approached Chestnut Hill. The plow had not made it up this far north yet, and the streets were deserted. Fortunately, a private snow removal company had cleared the parking lot of the drug store.

"Do you want me to come in with you?" he asked, concerned.

"You don't have to unless you need to buy something," she said.

"I have a sweet tooth. Maybe I'll see if I can get Christmas candy fifty percent off."

"Okay, come on then. It will give us something to talk about since we aren't going to our families for a holiday meal."

"I thought you were cooking a turkey," he said, teasing her.

"I have steak in the freezer. How 'bout I make you a steak for dinner?"

"That be great," he said, reverting to their private jargon. "Unless a pizza place is open on the Avenue."

"Pizza is better," she said.

"That be true," he said, laughing.

They walked into the store together side by side. "I have such an overwhelming need to hold your hand," Rick said.

"Well, fight it," Terry said. "Because you know you wouldn't be happy with me."

"Friends hold hands when they pray together," he said.

"But I'll feel romantic if you start holding my hand," she said.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know you're right."

"I be right," Terry said, sadly.

"Do you want me to go away?" he asked when they were inside.

"No, I really don't," she said. "I really need you right now."

"Okay," he said, hesitating. "Lead the way."

She looked up at the signs decorating the ceiling of the store, itemizing the merchandise, until she found feminine products. He followed closely behind her, like a husband would his wife, and she turned down the aisle, stopping in front of the pregnancy tests.

"Oh," Rick said, looking at her with concern. "Yikes."

"Yes," Terry answered, reading the labels without touching the boxes, afraid they might taint her if she handled them.

"What exactly are you looking for?" he whispered.

"Early," she said.

"Before a missed period?" he asked.

"How do you know this?" she said, frowning. "Is this something you have a lot of experience with?"

"No, I just watch too much TV," he said. "So it doesn't have to be early if you've missed a period."

She looked around but they were alone in the store on Christmas Day. "I'm about two weeks late."

"Gotcha," he said, reaching for a box. "This one is a popular brand."

"Okay, well get two," she said under her breath, looking around again.

"No one is listening," he said. "You're safe. Anyway, they'd think it was mine."

"If I am, I wish it was yours," she said, close to tears.

Rick put his arm around her. "You'll be okay, sweetie. Hold it together. Let's get candy now, half-off, stale Christmas candy that has been in the store since Thanksgiving.

They filled a hand held basket with candy and pregnancy tests and went to the counter, daring the cashier to say a word.

"Merry Christmas!" she said, handing them their bag and a receipt.

"Okay, home so you can pee on that stick," he said.

"This changes everything for us," she said. "I mean as a friendship. Before this we were sort of asexual. Now, well, now."

"You were never asexual to me," he said. "I might be gay, but I appreciate a beautiful woman." He took her hand and brought it to his lips and kissed her. "I appreciate you."

"Oh, Rick," she said, bowing her head and giving in to an old-fashioned crying jag.

"You'll be okay," he said, trying to stay calm, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "One step at a time. Do you want to pee at my house?"

"No, I'd better do it at home," she said. "Maybe my friend will have arrived."

"That never happens," he said. "I think it will be positive. I have that feeling."

"Do you? Oh, God!" she screamed, ugly crying for all she was worth while he drove.

"I'm sorry, honey," he said, having to have both hands on the steering wheel as he bashed through snow drifts. "Can you hold on for a moment? I want to go into Germantown and see if the pizzeria is open."

Rick thinking of pizza while she was having a possible pregnancy meltdown made Terry laugh, the pendulum swinging the other way. Everything would be okay.

"I can wait, if you buy me a calzone."

"I'll buy you two," he said.

It was open. He ran inside and ordered and then came out again with a hot chocolate for her.

"Aw, you're so sweet," she said.

"You need to drink up so you'll have lots to pee on the stick," he said, looking at her with a goofy smile, making her laugh.

Fifteen minutes later his phone beeped. "Pizza's ready," he said, jumping out of the truck.

He returned with steaming hot packages of stinking pizza and calzones. "Oh, my God. Next time, hold the garlic!" he said. "Now your beautiful red coat is going to smell."

"It can go to the cleaners. Hurry, let's get home."

"Can I get in your driveway?"

"I don't know. Can you?" she asked. "You've been driving like a maniac for the last hour. What's a little pile of snow?"

"Hold on," he said, bashing through the snow drift the plow had piled in front of Terry's driveway.

"You're legally insane," she said, laughing.

"I got you to stop crying, though, didn't I?"

"That be true," she said, and they leaned in and kissed each other. "Like a true friend."

He came around to her door to take the food from her and she carried the drug store bag.

"Do you want your candy?" she asked.

"Yes, so I can divide it with you," he said.

They walked through the snow to the steps, her footprints made when she left that morning filled in already by more snow and drifting. She unlocked the door and was glad to see Earle's lights on, and the sound of music and laughter coming from his apartment. His Christmas celebration had begun. There was still no sound from Benny's.

She opened her apartment door and put the drug store bag on the hall table. Unbuttoning her coat, it smelled like garlic and yeasty pizza crust.

"I'm starving," Terry said. "But I want to do this first."

He read the directions. "Hold appliance close to the urethra. Urinate, making sure stream hits stick. Shake excess urine off. Wait three minutes. One pink line is a negative result. Two pink lines is a positive result."

"Okay. I'll be back."

He followed her into the bedroom. "I want to be with you," he said.

"You can be as soon as I go," she said, closing the door.

Pacing in her bedroom, Rick looked around at the space, the clean, spare decorating, the color of the walls a deep gray blue, very restful.

"Okay, you can come in," she said, having laid the stick on a fold of toilet paper at the edge of the sink. "Wait for three minutes now."

"So, where'd you say you went to college again?" Terry asked.

"Berkley. But not California, Berkley. I'm sure I told you. You went to Michigan, correct?"

"Yes," she said. "I'm sure I told you."

He went to pick up the test but she yelled. "Rick, gross!"

"I don't care. I'll wash," he said, looking at the stick. "Oh, boy."

Covering her eyes, her heart was pounding so hard and so fast. "What is it?" she whispered.

"You're going to be a mother," he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders.

Terry held her hand out for the stick and after determining that there were indeed two lines there, she went to throw it away in the little trash can, but Rick called out, "No! Let it dry and you can add it to his baby book."

"His?" she asked.

"It's a boy," he said, confidently. "You're having a boy.

"A boy," she said, sighing, not questioning Rick's premonitions. "I'm going to have a baby boy."

The day after Christmas was supposed to be a work day, but Vince chose to keep the office closed since the city was in a state of emergency, the courthouse also closed, so nothing could be filed.

"I'll see you on Monday," he said over the phone on Christmas night. "I'm afraid it's falling on your shoulders as low-man on the totem pole to make all the employee calls. Paul thanks you for that."

"We have a call tree, Vince, and we're hiring an office manager on Monday," she said, but Vince had already hung up.

Sitting cross-legged on the window seat, Terry called Corinne, the receptionist, the first employee on the call tree.

"Corinne, this is Terry Kovac," she said. "Can you hear me because I have terrible phone service."

"Loud and clear," she said. "Tell me we have the rest of the week off."

"Merry Christmas! Yes, I'll see you Monday."

"Is it paid?" she asked.

"I'm sure you can use your personal days for it," Terry said. "Now who do you call next?"

"I call Fredericka and she calls the attorneys. I call the rest of the hired help." This was said with a tinge of resentment.

"Corinne, thank you for everything you do for the office. Truly, the place wouldn't run without you. I hope you know I appreciate you."

"Why thank you, Terry. What a nice Christmas present."

"What did we give you this year?" Terry asked.

"The same thing. One hundred dollars for every year worked. It's much more than other offices give," she said.

"Hmmm. Maybe I'd better talk to Vince about that," Terry said. "Psych! Ha! Gotcha!"

"Oh God, I was just thinking of how I'd deny saying that when the others came to kill me," Corinne said, finally relaxing.

"Yes, well we'll both be in trouble if anyone shows up at the office in the morning. Best get busy."

"I will, and thank you. Merry Christmas," Corinne said.

Terry ended the call and stretched out her legs. After discovering that she was going to have a baby, she just needed time to think, so Rick took his pizza and left, saying he understood completely that she was in shock. Shock was a kind word for what she was feeling. Horror, shame, fear, near hysteria all covered her emotions better than shock. Shock with its resulting numbness would be preferable to this.

She went into the kitchen and flipped the light on, bending down to look out the window and wave, just in case Rick was watching. Shortly before six, he'd called her to say that he was going to visit a friend later that evening, a new acquaintance, and if things went well, he wouldn't be home at all. It was a man in the neighborhood, and Terry wondered if it was Jason. Grabbing her journal, she turned the light off and went back to her spot on the window seat. The tree cast enough light that she could see what she was writing without turning on a bright light and illuminating the room to her neighbors.

At the top of a fresh page, she wrote, Christmas Day. Tapping the pen on her leg, she thought about the significance of finding out she was pregnant on the day Jesus was born. History, or lore, claimed that the girl who conceived Him from the Holy Spirit was a virgin. Her family would have been mortified. They found Joseph, an older carpenter, to marry her so she and the baby wouldn't have the stigma of an illegitimate birth.

Was it still called that? Illegitimate? What a horrible word. The synonyms reeked of hate; illicit, criminal, dishonest, prohibited, banned. If it was within her power, she'd never allow those words to be used about her baby. It would be a chance to educate people, if possible. There was no one in her life that she was aware of who wouldn't embrace her or her baby, but she could be mistaken.

Pregnant single women were not uncommon employees in law offices in Philadelphia. She encountered them all the time, young women who had no support, whose jobs meant everything to them. They'd be leaving their six-week-old newborns with babysitters. Would that also be the fate of Terry's little one?

This brought up another urgent matter. Since the father of her baby was another lawyer there, what would it mean for Terry? Vince would be furious. For the first time in a while, she allowed herself to think of Alex. She'd avoided any contact with him over the past two weeks, since she'd become a partner. Vince had Alex join a team starting a new defense, and they were immersed in the early fact finding and research. Safely busy and away from her, the healing process had begun, and like her father had said, quoting Charlotte from Sex in the City, a week for everyday, she was almost over him. And now this.

Under Christmas Day, she wrote, Pregnant! The internet was still out, but she figured that her due date was about August 16th. So much could happen between now and then.

Her recent alcohol consumption was the worst concern. She'd had champagne, Irish coffee at Mrs. Dell's, wine with Rich...ugh! From now on, she'd be diligent about her health, making sure to lay off the sugar; there was part of a cake leftover from the weekend that she'd throw away, and absolutely no alcohol.

"I'm sorry, little baby. I hope it's not too late," she whispered, her hand over her flat belly.

Then under Pregnant, she wrote Tell? – Don't Tell? That was the question. Alex was going to be a father, again. Although she sort of wished he'd disappear, it wouldn't be fair to the child to not have his father. But Alex didn't need to know until it was absolutely necessary.

At that moment, she decided she'd do what she could to minimize the appearance of pregnancy. It would be beneficial in court when confronted with misogynists who looked upon women, pregnant women specifically, as weak, or ineffective. They'd be learning a thing or two in the next months. Known as a formidable arguer, prosecutors hated to see her in the courtroom. She'd make sure that quality was strengthened.

The phone beeped and she assumed it was Rick, so when she saw a New Jersey number, her heart began to race. Alex.

"Hello?"

"Terry."

Emotion welled up in her chest, and she took a deep breath. Was he doing the same thing? All of her resolve disappeared.

"Terry, I have to see you," he pleaded. "I'm in town for work. Since I discovered we don't have work, I have the next four days."

"Alex, you don't want to do that to Jennifer," she said, lying. She wanted him to leave his wife on Christmas Night, never to return. "I was just getting over you!"

"I'm coming up," he said firmly. "Will you be waiting?"

This was the definitive moment. What was her answer going to be? She squeezed her eyes shut and the word no resonated in her mind.

"Yes," she said, ashamed of her weak willpower. "But I hope you have four-wheel drive."

"I don't but I have front wheel, and that's almost as good. I'll see you in half an hour."

Hanging up, she took a last look at her journal. Tell? Don't Tell?
Chapter 17

Showered, dressed and made up, Terry looked like her old self, maybe a little thinner, but not so miserable. "You look pretty unhappy," Earle had said. "What can we do to make Terry happy again?"

Thinking of Rick, she quickly texted him, the one person whom she didn't mind knowing her personal business. Unexpected guest coming. Send good thoughts please.

She didn't hear back, but that was okay. She hoped he was sitting at a table for two with candlelight and wine.

Waiting, she sat back down on the window seat. Many of her neighbors had decorated the outside of their houses with lights, both white and colorful. In almost every window there was evidence of a decorated tree. Soon, the lights would go off, a few brave souls leaving them on all night. She wished they'd keep them up all year.

Phone beeping again, this time it was her father.

Checking in. Did you have a nice day? Anna is an excellent cook. Her power went off at noon, but she has a generator, so I got that going. I got Mr. Cline to keep an eye on my place so I don't have to go back tonight.

Terry chuckled, thinking about her news. She wouldn't tell him in a text message, not yet, anyway.

Dad, I had a fine day. Ate calzones from the local pizza parlor, and will eat Tums all night tonight. Miss you. Let's talk tomorrow.

She saw headlights coming slowly up the hill, someone looking for her driveway. He waited, and then pulled in. Luckily, Rick had used the snow-blower on it that afternoon. Running down the stairs to open the door for him, she forgot how good he looked. Dressed in jeans and heavy jacket, he was ready for snow.

The somber and serious Alex in place, when he saw her face in the door waiting for him, his entire countenance changed, even his body language perked up.

Opening the door, she returned his smile. He passed through and she quickly closed the door and effortlessly moved into his arms. Earle's curtains were closed, and she didn't hesitate to kiss Alex hello, her hands on his face, him pulling her closer.

"I missed you so much," she said, deciding the only way to go with this was brutal honesty. "I love you Alex. I don't want to live without you."

Tipping her face up, he looked into her eyes. "Terry, I love you. I can't stand being away from you any longer. I'm telling Jennifer in the morning that it's over."

"Come up," Terry said, taking his hand.

They reached her apartment and he didn't waste any time. "Can we take care of business first?" he asked. "I've been waiting for this for three weeks."

"Yes," she answered, walking backward to her bed.

Alex threw his jacket and scarf over the railing, she pulled her leggings off, he unzipped his jeans. Already rock hard, he gently pushed her on her back onto the bed. Nestling in between her legs, he didn't spend any time on formalities like he usually did, making sure her needs were met.

This time, he just wanted to be inside of Terry. Shuddering, falling against her, his face in her hair, and once he could speak, said over again, I love you, I've missed you, I love you.

In the dark, she held on to him for dear life, smiling. So happy, so content, she was determined to stay in the moment for as long as she could. Alex rolled off her, and pulled her to his side, his arm around her, while he laid there with his eyes closed, catching his breath.

When he could finally talk, he got up on his elbow. "My suitcase is in the car, but I'll bring it in. I wanted to make sure you still wanted me."

"And are you satisfied I want you?" she asked.

"Yes. I'm sorry we had the detour to crazy town," he said.

"I need to use the bathroom," she said, kissing him before getting up.

While she washed up, she looked at her reflection in the mirror, once again surprised how much his presence meant to her. She was in love with Alex, there was no way around it.

He was till laying on the bed with his pants unzipped, but all his body parts back under cover. "Well, I'm still in love with you," she said. "I hope the roller coaster is over for a while."

"It is. I just need to do it. I'm going to call her tonight. There's no point in waiting," he said. "It's eight. I'll wait for half an hour so we can get reacquainted."

"I thought that's what we just did," she said, going into the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Beer if you have it."

"I still have your beer from three weeks ago," she said, taking it to him.

"Let's go sit by the tree," he said. "I'm shocked you have one."

"My neighbor brought it over. You'll meet him soon. Rick. He's a pianist. He's become my go to person."

"Should I be jealous?" Alex asked.

"I can't imagine you jealous of any man," she said. "But Rick is gay, so don't be jealous. I was ready to make him my gay husband, but I think he had a date tonight, so if it went well, I'd be the fifth wheel."

"You don't need a gay husband. Let's get married right away. Or as soon as city hall opens up again."

Taking a deep breath, Terry knew at that moment that she had to level with him about the pregnancy. But she wanted him to deal with Jennifer first. Jennifer's baby was important, too.

"Go call your ex first and then we can talk about it. I need to talk to you anyway, about a different matter."

He looked at her, then drank the rest of his beer. "Okay," he said. "Let me out and I'll get my bags and call Jennifer."

"Take my key," she said. "We'll have to get another tomorrow."

"At a locksmith?" he asked, looking at the skeleton key.

"No, an antique shop," she said, laughing, pointing down the stairs. "Hurry up."

She went into the kitchen with the lights off so she could spy. The lights in the interior of his car popped on when he pointed the fob at the car to unlock the door. First, he got his bags out of the trunk. It appeared that he'd planned on leaving her before he got the call canceling work, because he had several suitcases and boxes again. (Those boxes.)

Sitting in her chair, she watched him press keys on his phone. He didn't get into the car to make the call, so maybe it would be fast, like pulling a bandage off a wound. Or maybe he wasn't really going to call Jennifer. The doubts were disturbing; he'd never been dishonest, so why would she think he'd start now.

Watching him, he was having an emotional conversation after all, with hand gestures and a few times his voice loud enough that she could hear it, not what he was saying exactly, just that he was angry.

It only lasted a few moments, a minute at the most. He wiped his face with his hands, then pocketed his phone and grabbed as many bags as he could carry at a time. She heard him at the front door, and then saw him come around back for the boxes. After several trips, she heard him on the stairs.

"I'll help you," she said, standing at the open door.

"No, you don't have to. I can't believe we're here again. It will be the last time, I promise," he said.

"Don't be too sure about that," she mumbled, watching him run down the stairs again.

The final box back in place in the living room, took his coat off again. "I'm in terrible shape," he said.

"What can I get you?" she asked.

"What's for dinner?" he asked. "It's almost nine and I haven't eaten yet. I'm like an irresponsible kid."

"No you're not," she said. "I have a leftover calzone. It's huge, like a large pizza folded in half. I also have chili and corn bread, leftover Stouffer's lasagna, and a steak I can cook you."

"I'd have the chili, except do you really want to feed me chili before bed?" he burst out laughing. "Maybe just corn bread. Corn bread and tea."

"That sounds like a meal for an invalid," she said, sitting on his lap.

"Boy, you feel good," he said, rubbing her back. "I really missed you."

"Let me get your tea and corn bread and then I have to tell you something," she said, kissing his cheek. "I'll be right back."

She handed him the remote, forgetting the cable was out. "Oops," she said. "Sorry."

With nothing to distract him, he started putting his books back in the barrister cases.

"After you left the first time, I started to put my books in there. Then when I got the call, I packed all the stuff up and shipped it back to the office." She placed his tea on the table next to his winged back chair. "Here's your corn bread."

He sat in his chair and picked up the cup. "I missed having tea at night," he said. "I tried it, but it wasn't the same without you."

She sat on his ottoman, holding something in her hand.

"What's that?" he said.

"I want to show you, but you can't touch it because it's gross," she said, holding it up. "Look in that box."

She pointed to the window on her pregnancy test with two pink lines. "Give it to me," he said grabbing it and jerking it out of her hand. Getting up, he used her shoulder as a support to get out of the chair. Smiling, she watched him go to the light switch and flick it on, flooding the room with bright light.

"Everyone can see in here now," she complained.

He held the stick up to the light and saw the lines. Back and forth, he looked to her and then back again to the test.

"You're going to have my baby?" he said, his voice high, disbelieving.

Unexpectedly, he plunked down on the couch and started to cry, his hands over his face with the pee stick awfully close to his eyes. "Give me that, will you?" she demanded, hopping off the ottoman. "It's got pee on it."

"I don't care!"

He yanked it away from her, pulling her down on his lap, holding her so tightly; there was no mistake that he was overwhelmed. Either joyfully, or not, but either way, he wasn't letting her loose.

"I know that's a lot coming at you," she said. "You'll have two babies in...well when's Jennifer due?"

"April 1st," he said, sniffing. "Can I blow my nose on your shirt?"

Laughing, she leaned over and grabbed a tissue. "Blow. Two babies in five months. That's a lot." She struggled to get out of his grasp. "I'm going to fix dinner, because now I'm hungry. Calzone again. Give me the stick, it's going in his baby book, and you wash your hands please."

"His? Who says? It's too early to tell the gender, isn't it?"

"My friend Rick, the guy I told you about. He took me to the drug store in the storm so I could get this test. He said it's a boy."

"I guess I owe Rich a big one for taking care of you," Alex said.

"What are we going to do?" Terry said, suddenly scared to death.

"We're getting married right away," he said. "As soon as city hall opens, we'll be there for our license."

"In Philadelphia we have to wait for three days, but we know the judges so that might be waived."

"Tomorrow is Thursday. I'll call first thing," he said. "I don't want to wait a second more than we have to."

"Can I invite my dad?" she asked.

"Of course you can. I'm going to have to apologize to Harry, I guess," Alex said, looking worried.

"He'll appreciate it. He only wants me to be happy. Then we get to tell Vince! Yippee!"

"I'll leave this time," Alex said, chuckling. "I don't like working with Margery."

"You can't," she replied. "You've got too much going on. Margery is so benign, why don't you like working with her?"

"She smells like moth balls, and her wig slips in the middle of her closing arguments. The jury will laugh."

"You should be doing the closing arguments by this time," she said. "If you're working with Margery, I'm sure she'd love a break. Besides, in her defense, have you lost a case yet?"

"No, but that's irrelevant," he said, grabbing at Terry. "She smells."

"Men," Terry said, jumping away from him. "I'll heat up dinner, you wash your peepee hands."

As easy as that, they returned to long weekends of love, sex and romance, and now, family planning.

***

Two days after Christmas, on Friday, City Hall opened for licenses only. Terry and Alex were on the train by nine, and by ten, a judge Terry knew from her days in circuit court waived the three day waiting period and married them.

Both in tears, holding each other, laughing, wiping each other's faces, onlookers were smitten, tearing up, offering congratulations.

"We need to get right over to your father's place to tell him," Alex said. "He needs to know the whole story, as painful as it is. I don't want any lies."

"Harry doesn't need to know about the baby. Not yet, anyway. We can wait a few weeks. Then it can look less suspicious, you know, shotgun."

"He'd be the one holding the shotgun," Alex said, laughing. "Anyway, let's get back on the damn train."

"It's better than driving in this mess. And the forecast said more snow tonight. We might not be going anywhere on Monday, either."

They left for Harry's with a white cake in a bakery box, and a large pizza, their wedding dinner. "You'd better call him," Alex warned.

"I just talked to him this morning to see if they had power yet," she said. "I said we might drop in."

"Let him know we're here, please?" Alex said, nervous.

"Relax. We're already married! I can't believe it!" she kissed him.

They ran up to the door, loaded down with food. Harry happened to glance up from watching the news when he saw the tops of their heads.

"It's my daughter," he told Anna. "She said they might stop by but I thought she'd call first."

"Just relax Harry, it'll be fine. She's a nice young woman and you said yourself she was happy we were seeing each other."

"Surprise!" Terry cried, flinging her arms around Harry's neck.

"I thought you were history," Harry said to Alex.

"Sir, my apologies for causing any problems for Terry," Alex said.

"This is Anna," Harry said, ignoring Alex's apology, but looking carefully at him, sure the boy was up to something.

"You have power, I see," Terry said, pointing to the lit up Christmas tree, Harry's concern growing; his daughter was dewy eyed, like she was carrying a forbidden secret. "We brought dinner and a surprise because we have a surprise."

She held out her hand with the wedding band. "We got married this morning!"

Anna rushed over and embraced Terry and Alex, keeping one hand on Harry, sensing he was confused, shocked even, but biting his tongue.

Then, unbelievably, Terry burst into tears. Harry hadn't seen Terry cry since she was seven and their dog died, and this was so phenomenal, he reached behind, and dropped into the couch, his mouth agape.

"Dad! Are you okay? Oh my God, is he having a stroke?" Terry cried, but he was okay, struggling to stand up, grabbing his daughter to hug, grimacing to Anna and shrugging his shoulders. What was going on?

Shaking his head, Harry Kovac didn't want to see Terry is such despair. The girl was almost thirty years old. She was a partner in a big criminal defense law firm in Philadelphia. They used Terry when they needed a pretty face for their ads. So what if she married someone who'd left her ostensibly after a whirlwind weekend because his ex-wife was pregnant. So what if Terry lost her job because of it. It appeared all things had worked together for good for Terry; she got her job back and the missing man returned with a marriage proposal.

"Okay, calm down," he finally said, patting her back. "Nothing is that bad. Calm down Terry, before you make yourself sick."

"Come on honey," Anna said. "Let's everyone come into the kitchen. I'll make coffee and we can have pizza and bakery stuff for a late lunch."

"It's a wedding cake," Alex said.

"Oh, well isn't that nice," Anna replied, cutting the string with a knife.

Between Alex looking devastated, and Harry whispering to Terry, Anna did a good job of keeping a running dialogue going, even though no one appeared to be listening to her. She later said she had the desire to burst into song at one point, just to get their attention.

"I'm okay," Terry said. "I have to talk to Alex for a minute."

She took his hand and led him out of the small kitchen, a perfect example of 1950s post war architecture, into her girlhood bedroom.

"Are you kidding?" Alex said. "Look at this room! It's a throwback."

"Are you okay if I tell my dad about the baby?" she whispered.

"Terry, of course. I think he'd be angry if we waited to tell him," he said.

"Okay, but be prepared, you saw him fall out when I announced the marriage," she said.

"This is why we're having more than one kid," he said.

"Well, you're having more than one kid already. Maybe Jennifer will let me borrow him so ours doesn't get too spoiled."

"Can we do it now? I'm ready for food," Alex said.

Terry took his hand again and led him back into the kitchen, while she sniffed the air.

"Oh, coffee. I'd kill for a cup of coffee," she said.

"Sit down," Harry said, making a sweeping motion with his hand indicating the chairs.

"Dad, Anna, I'm pregnant," she said.

Anna was ready to jump up in the air, but she restrained herself. It wasn't her grandchild, yet. Harry took the shock like a man. He'd gone through the a tour of duty in Vietnam. The love of his life practically died in his arms after he'd taken care of her non-stop for a year.

It was good news, by some standards. This young, successful couple was so attracted to each other that they rushed into romance without thinking. Alex loved Terry so much that he left his pregnant wife, ex-wife, for Terry.

"Just to be clear, I came back to Terry not knowing about the baby. On Christmas night, she sprung it on me."

"I didn't know if I'd ever see him again," she said, defending herself. "I had just found out myself."

"On Christmas?" Harry asked.

"Yep, I looked at the calendar, if you get my drift, confirming my suspicions, and in the horrible storm, Rick took me to the drug store in Chestnut Hill in his big truck. I was going to let Alex know when I was no longer able to hide it at work. But he called and came to see me and said he still loved me, so I didn't have to wait after all. And that's the story."

"Oh, what a beautiful Christmas story!" Anna cried, wiping her eyes with a napkin. "Just like Jesus."

"Don't get carried away," Harry said, frowning at her.

"What! You're Jewish," she said. "Trust me, it's just like Jesus."

"Let's cut the cake! And then I'm not eating sweets until he's born," Terry said, self-assured with the knife poised in the air.

"What he?" Harry asked. "It could be a girl."

"Er sir, ixnay," Alex mumbled, moving his finger across his throat in a slicing motion. "This Rick fellow said it's a boy, and evidently, that means it's a boy."

"We're having a boy," Anna said, staring sidelong at Harry, finally giving into passion and clapping her hands. "A boy baby! You're going to be a grandfather Harry!"

"Well, I guess I am," he said, finally smiling. "Terry, congratulations to us!"
Chapter 18

New Year's Day

Wednesday, January 1st

Moaning coming from their bedroom meant Alex was awake.

"Are you alive?" Terry asked, standing in the doorway sipping a cup of coffee.

"I wish I was dead," he whined. "My head is killing me."

"Get in the shower and I'll have a nice cup of coffee ready for you," Terry said. "After you eat toast you can take aspirin."

Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, groaning with each movement. He saw he was naked. "Did we do it last night?" he asked.

"Did we do it? What didn't we do!" she said, laughing.

"Oh, watch it, please. My head," he said, cradling it in his hands.

"This is how I felt the first time we were together. I still don't remember a thing about that night."

"Well I don't remember a thing about last night, so we're even. I hoped we waited until we were alone," he said, looking up at her for confirmation.

"Oh, we were alone alright. But another couple, a special couple, I should say, almost gave us a show."

"Who?" he asked. "Or maybe I don't want to know."

"Brenda and Larry. I'm telling you, for being married, they are one sexy couple."

"What happened?" Alex asked.

"They were making out on our couch, and Larry pushed her back and started to undo his pants."

***

Everyone was there for the Hawthorne's first annual New Year's Eve Party. Even Arvin came with his new girlfriend, Tina Halevy, a lovely Israeli neurologist he'd met at work. As soon as Arvin arrived, having been invited without knowledge of all the excitement in Terry's life, she sat him and Tina down and made her announcement.

"Alex and I got married last Friday, and I'm pregnant!"

"Already?" Arvin asked, looking confused.

"Arvin, really?" Tina asked, shaking her head. She got up to embrace Terry. "Terry, I'm so happy for you. I know how much you mean to Arvin, so as soon as he gets his head out of his ass, I'm sure he'll be happy for you, too."

"Do you work together?" Terry asked.

"We work at the same hospital," Tina explained. "I came down to the ER to review a scan of a patient with a head injury and Arvin was the physician in charge that day. I flirted with him, but he ignored me."

"Arvin ignored you," Terry said, incredulous. "What was that all about, Arvin?"

"I was trying to be good," he said. "But Tina has to admit, by the next day, I was interested."

"That's true. He paged me and asked me for coffee. Then he told me the whole story about trying not to be such a bad boy. That very day he said he thought I might be the one."

"You are the one!" Terry cried. "You two are perfect together!"

"I know!" Arvin said. "It's like Tina was made for me."

"Oh, my God, this man's ego is out of control," Tina said. "It's more socially correct to say we were made for each other, Arvin."

"Small steps, small steps," he said.

"Well, you two are perfect for each other," Terry said, thinking, finally, someone who can tame Arvin.

Rick arrived with Jason. Rick looked like he was ready to go on a deer hunt, with a plaid flannel shirt, jeans, a vest that had places to stash shotgun shells, and a red plaid Stormy Kromer hunting hat.

"Where's your rifle?" Alex asked.

Jason, on the other hand, dressed for a Dickens event, wore a white silk ruffled shirt, black velvet jacket, satin pants and a top hat.

Terry was right all along about them, that they would make the perfect couple, and she forgave Jason who tearfully apologized for his prudish denial.

"I'm so glad you're together!" Terry said. "You're perfect for each other."

As soon as she put the music on, Rick and Jason slipped into each other's arms and danced song after song, only stopping to eat.

"How do you feel about Rick being with that guy?" Alex whispered.

"I'm really glad," she said. "They're so well matched, they are as opposite as two people can be."

Brenda and Larry practically oozed sexuality. From their friends' point of view their attraction for each other hadn't diminished at all in the three years they'd been married. The husband continuously gazed at his wife with complete adoration, with the wife completely aware of the power she had over him. Regardless of the social setting, they didn't waste a moment when desire erupted.

On New Year's Eve, they were the last to arrive. Standing on Terry's porch looking slightly disheveled when she answered the doorbell, it appeared they'd already had a round of sex in the car, but apparently something had gone awry.

"Are you guys okay?" she asked, concerned.

Brenda stepped over the threshold, pushing Terry in the house. "Go on up Larry, I'll be right behind you."

"I'm sick," he said. "I need the bathroom."

"You know where it is," Terry said. "Top of the stairs, through the bedroom."

They watched him slowly climbing the stairs, and for a second Terry thought he was going to fall backwards.

"Is he drunk?" she asked, ready to catch him.

"Yes, but he'll be fine. You have to help me," Brenda said. "Paul and I are having an affair."

"What?" Terry gasped, grabbing Brenda by the arms.

"Shut up and listen. We got carried away and I was late getting home from work last night. Larry was up all night downloading every email I'd ever written, screenshots of texts on my phone, you name it. I need you to say you were with me at happy hour if he asks."

Stunned, Terry couldn't believe it. Paul? Paul and his wife were upstairs already, sitting with Alex and Jason playing poker.

"He's here," Terry said.

"Oh my God, how? You invited him?"

"Alex did," Terry said. "How were we to know? Anyway, the man is my business partner. We had to invite them."

"I've got to get up there before Larry sees Paul," she said, running up the stairs.

It was safe, however. Larry was still in the bathroom with his head in the toilet, none the wiser. When Paul saw Brenda, he lost all concentration and dropped out of the game while his wife cleaned up the table, stuffing the money in her tiny beaded bag.

"Stay out of the living room," Terry said. "You can help me put the food out."

For the next twenty minutes, they set up a buffet on the top of Alex's barrister bookshelves, all the while Brenda and Paul making eyes at each other.

By midnight, only Terry and Jason were sober, Paul and his wife left after calling Uber, and Larry decided to show Brenda who was boss in full view of the rest of the guests.

"What happened next?" Alex asked the next morning, wide awake now.

"He was just getting ready to pull it out when Rick stepped in. 'Hey buddy, don't take your unit out in front of all these strangers,' he said. The distraction was enough to make Brenda come to her senses, getting up to call for a car. By the way, there are six cars that don't belong to us in our driveway."

Laughing, Alex shook his head.

"I'm glad I missed it. I guess I'd better get in the shower."

"I'll bring you coffee."

"Our friends are insane. Did you have to lie to Larry?" he asked.

"He never asked," Terry replied. "I hope she breaks it off with Paul. I had no idea! I can't imagine beautiful Brenda with crabby old Paul."

"Me either," Alex said. "I guess we're really lucky. Our drama isn't as bad as our friends' is."

"You're not kidding," she replied.

Brenda was sleeping on her side, curled up into a ball, her back to Larry. He was on his back, mouth open, every five seconds he'd snore loud enough to wake up Brenda, who finally put a pillow over her head. Their bedroom smelled like whiskey and methane gas from Paul's beer farts.

Unable to sleep any longer, Brenda got up and in spite of the freezing temps outside, opened the window. They lived on Pine Street, their bedroom facing the front of the house. For a holiday, there was a lot of traffic with masses of people flooding the city from New Jersey and parts surrounding to see the Mummer's Parade.

Unconcerned that the noise would disturb Larry, Brenda knew from past experience that when he was this hung over, it would take more than a horn honking to wake him up.

Walking around the room picking up their alcohol stinking clothing, Brenda felt a cesspool of negative energy coming from...herself. Remorseful for her infidelity, she cringed thinking of Paul and how the relationship between them had unfolded.

After Alex took over clerking for Terry and Brenda moved over to Paul's office, the other employees told her it was a coup to clerk for a partner. Paul was harmless enough, his inappropriate comments about Brenda's clothing meaningless, a pathetic attempt at flirting with her for the five years she worked for him. Everyone agreed that Paul appeared to be losing a battle with a mid-life crisis. His wife, Suzette, was a lovely, successful woman, so no one blamed her for his behavior. Perhaps trying to build his flagging ego, any female who crossed the threshold of their office was fair game, but he was usually ignored, too needy for even the middle-aged Fed Ex lady who once told Corinne they needed to get Paul psychiatric help.

Brenda felt like a complete failure the afternoon their affair started. Her desk piled high with orderly file folders; the success at work wasn't enough to compensate for her absence of self-esteem. Even Larry's attention couldn't combat the latest flood of depression overtaking Brenda.

Paul came to her office to hear an overview of the upcoming case he was representing.

"You do the nicest presentation of any law clerk, or any lawyer, Brenda. This is excellent. Organized, to the point, well-documented, you did a good job.

Unable to help herself, she burst into tears. Paul put his arm around her to pull into a hug. He petted her, smoothing her hair, and he could smell her, softness and floral, something exotic that went right to his balls. Enjoying it, he kept petting her, and before long she threaded her arms around his waist and held him against her body. Being in his arms was so comforting; she could have fallen asleep standing up.

"I guess we'd better get back to work," he said. "Do you want to go to lunch with me today?"

"Okay," she said.

The two of them going to lunch wouldn't seem unusual at all, they'd gone out before, but what would make it different this time was that Paul would nod to the hotel across the street from the deli they usually went to.

"I'd like to get a room. Are you interested?"

Brenda looked up at Paul, he was as familiar to her as anyone she'd worked with, they'd been in the same office for a long time. Their fights were legendary. She'd never considered it before, but maybe having sex with him was a logical next step.

"Okay, we could do that," she said.

They walked into the hotel lobby together, and Brenda was suddenly concerned that someone they knew might see them.

"I'm going to wait by the elevator," she whispered.

"That's a good idea," he said, not entirely au courant with traversing an affair.

An upholstered bench between the elevators provided a place to rest and think. Were they just having a screw? Or did Paul want to be with Brenda? Was it just horsing around? Or something serious? He'd never given her an indication that he was interested in anything more than simply harassing her.

Walking toward her, putting his credit card away, she stood, nerves finally kicking numbness out of the picture. It wasn't too late to run back to the office. But she didn't want to stop whatever was happening between them.

They stepped off the elevator together, and Paul took her hand. The room was at the end of the hall. He let go of her hand to open the door. It was a standard boring hotel room overlooking a parking garage, a slight smell of grease coming from the Chinese food place she could see from the window.

Emptying his pockets and taking off his coat and jacket, it looked like Paul was in it for the long haul.

"Come here," he said, using the same tone of voice he made commands with around the office.

She bit her lip, wanting to laugh. But she went to him, and he unbuttoned her coat. "Take this off," he said.

Sitting on the bed, he watched her do as he said, watched her walk to the closet and hang her coat up next to his.

Motioning for her to come back, she did, standing in front of him. Reaching down, his hands on the back of her legs under her skirt, he ran them up to her waist.

"Do you want me to take my skirt off?" she asked.

"Not yet," he murmured, his hands on her ass.

His fingers crept under her garter belt, he felt for the elastic of her underpants, and grabbed it, pulling them down. Brenda was shaking, so many intense feelings; desire, suspense, fear, embarrassment.

Lifting her leg for her, he had her step out of her underpants, a slip of lace, not a thong exactly, more coverage, but she shuddered, hoping they weren't damp. He put them on the bed, and motioned for her to turn around so he could unzip her skirt.

Closing her eyes, the first thing he saw was her bare ass as he pulled the skirt down to the floor. She stepped out of it, kicking it away from the bed. The unknown, wondering what was going to happen next was almost too much and then she could feel him spreading her cheeks apart, and his tongue went right there. Electrical charges came next, as his face and hands and tongue explored deeper.

It happened so fast she didn't have time to be embarrassed; he twirled her around, practically throwing her on the bed, and went down on her until she was out of control, whatever would happen would happen. There was no turning back now. When she was finished, panting, grasping the coverlet, he undressed, stripped naked, and pulled her on top of him, not wasting any time getting inside of her.

"Get rid of this," he said, grabbing at her blouse. She didn't even try to unbutton it, pulling it over her head instead.

She had little breasts, but was wearing a pretty bra, so hopefully that would be enough, she thought, inadequacy making a late appearance while he moved slowly, fondling her. "Take your bra off," he said.

"I don't have very much on top," she said, apologetic.

"I want you," he said. "Let me see you."

Leaning forward, she unhooked her bra and let it fall off. He sat up, still inside her and started to kiss and suck her breasts, and she closed her eyes, the sensation fabulous, Larry didn't bother with her breasts much, encouraging her to have them augmented, but she was afraid of surgery. Now here was Paul, his wife had big boobs, and surprise, surprise, he was getting into Brenda's little breasts.

"They're beautiful," he said. "I love your breasts."

He came soon after that, and they lay together on the bed, resting, not saying much. At one point, he got up on his side and pulled her to him. "I love you Brenda," he said.

"No you don't," she replied.

"Yes I do," he said. "I've wanted to do this for a long time. Now I just need to figure out what I'm going to do about Suzette."

"You're going to go home to your wife tonight," Brenda said.

"I might do it tonight, but I won't want to. I guess you don't love me?"

"No. You're my boss, Paul. You yell at me all day."

"What if I show you how I really feel about you? Do you think you'd give me a chance?" he asked.

"I'll think about it," she said, a lie.

Larry was a great guy. She loved him and she knew he loved her. He was smart, funny, handsome and successful. The problems they had were not to due to anything Larry was responsible for. He'd told her from day one that he would support anything she wanted to do. She stayed at her job instead of telling Vince or Paul that she wanted more because she was afraid.

Throwing the laundry into the hamper, she walked back into the bedroom. Larry wasn't in bed, so she walked through the dressing room and found him standing at the toilet peeing, his hair a mess, his buttocks flexed. Addicted to the tanning booth, Larry always had a golden tan, even in the dead of winter. He was fit, muscular, and she often wondered how on earth she got someone as hot as he was.

"I wish I had a camera right now," she said. "Do you have any idea how smokin' hot you are?"

"Why'd you fuck that old man then," he said, sniffing.

"Are you crying again?" Brenda asked. "Larry, you're imagining it."

He turned around, and she felt awful; he was crying. She went to him and reached for his hand.

"Let me prove to you that you're the man I want. This is the body I want," she said. "You are perfect, Larry. I don't have any complaints."

Deciding that even if Larry had a video of her screwing Paul, she'd deny it, she'd say she'd been drugged. She went to him and fondled him and he leaned against her, moaning.

"I've got to get into the shower," he said. "Do you want to join me?"

"Okay, that sounds like a plan," she said. "But I've got plans for you. I want to do things to you that I can't do in the shower."

"Is that right," he said, pulling her to his body. "I'm sorry I'm such a pain in the ass."

"You're not a pain," she said. "I am. I'm a big pain in the ass."

While she undressed to make love to her husband in the shower, she decided that on Thursday when she went back to work, after she told Paul they were never going to have sex again, she was going to ask Terry to help her start really practicing law. She'd do something with her law degree, and hopefully that would fix whatever this funk was that she'd found herself in.

And if not, well, she had the rest of her life to work it out.
Chapter 19

February 1st

The phone rang at two AM, jarring them awake, the ridiculous melody irritating.

"Who the hell would that be?" Alex groaned.

"Answer it," Terry said. "It's yours."

He looked at his phone. "Oh shit, it's Jennifer," he said, placing it back on his nightstand.

"Answer it, Alex! She might be in trouble!"

Although not a warm fuzzy relationship, Jennifer and Terry kept things respectful for the sake of the baby. When it was Alex's turn to have him, Terry would be the mother figure in the household. It behooved everyone to behave nicely.

"You okay?" he said into the phone. "What? You can't be in labor. You're not due for two months."

Terry sat up, listening to the garbling coming from his phone.

"Who's taking you to the hospital?" he asked. "If we leave right now, we should be there by four."

"It won't take that long if we cut across," Terry said. "We can go north and grab the turnpike. It'll only take about an hour at this time of night. We'll be the only ones on the road."

"Us and the carjackers," he said. "Jennifer, Terry said we'll be there before four. We have to get dressed. Okay, see you then." He hung up.

"Who's taking her?" Terry asked.

"Her business partner," he said. "Ben Marks. He's a good guy, but I'm not sure how he got roped into taking her to the hospital. I'm sure his wife is thrilled."

"Well let's get going. I want to be there before she has it," Terry said.

"Why? I'm not going into the delivery room. No way man," he said, shuddering.

"This is your baby, Alex. I'll go if you won't," she said. "I promised Jennifer I'd make sure you were there."

"Thanks," he said, giving her a dirty look.

"You can stand up at her head. You don't have to be down in the gore."

"Okay, whew! I thought you were going to make me cut the cord, or something horrible like that," Alex said.

They got dressed and while Terry waited for the coffee to perk, she put makeup on her face. It would be the first time she met Alex's ex and she was going to look nice if it killed her.

They got their travel mugs of coffee and tiptoed down the stairs, Alex shushing her when she talked. "Benny's not home," Terry said.

The temperature was less than twenty degrees. "I can't believe how cold it is," Terry said, shivering.

"Do you want a blanket?" Alex said. "I'll run in and get one."

"No, no, I'll be fine. Let's get moving."

As he was pulling out of the driveway, her phone beeped. "It's Rick!" she said to Alex.

"Why are you up?" she asked Rick.

"The people downstairs got a dog," he said. "He's a good watch dog. When people sneak off in the middle of the night, he warns me."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Terry said.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she said. "Jennifer is in labor."

"Ugh," he said. "It's a little early."

"Two months," Terry said. "I'm worried but trying to stay sane for Alex's sake." He reached over and took her hand. "I'll call you when we know what's happening. Go back to bed."

The streets were covered with glitter, ice crystals almost hanging in the air. "What a beautiful night for my daughter to be born," he said.

"Congratulations, Alex," Terry murmured, reaching over to kiss him. "I'm feeling a little strange."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't imagine. I appreciate how calm and supportive you've been. Jennifer is, too. I want to be in her life. Jennifer is calling her Calista. Callie for short."

"Oh, that's so pretty! It's unusual but not odd."

"That's what I thought. Calista Hawthorn."

"It fits! Nice," Terry said.

In less than an hour, Alex pulled into the parking lot of the Princeton Hospital. The brightly lit lobby was empty except for a uniformed police officer and a middle-aged man sitting at the reception desk.

They approached the desk, Terry feeling out of place, but excited. Soon, they'd be having a baby together. But this was Alex's baby. She had to keep reminding herself that her baby was not his first. Their baby would never be his first.

"Can I help you?" the man said.

"My...my daughter is being born tonight. Her mother called us that she was coming in to deliver."

"You want Labor and Delivery then," he replied.

Standing up, he handed them a paper map with a confusing path, involving changing elevators on an upper floor. "Here're your passes," he said, handing over two worn cardboard passes on frayed lanyards. "Keep them in sight at all times."

"Jeez, do you think you could change these strings once in awhile? They're disgusting," Alex said, his OCD uncontrollable during stress.

"I just volunteer here," the man said.

"Come on, Alex, get going," Terry said, pushing him away from the desk.

They followed the map through a maze of hallways and finally after two elevator rides, found Labor and Delivery. They stepped off the elevator, practically running into Ben Marks verging on hysteria, looking more than eager to get out of the hospital. A tall, handsome African American man, Ben Marks usually exuded confidence and success. He was among the top selling realtors in Manhattan that year, and with his help, Jennifer was fast approaching the same level of sales, already making more money than Alex did. But now Ben was a wreck, glassy eyed and disheveled at four AM.

"Ben, how is she?" Alex asked.

"She had the baby. They're both fine," he said, moving around the couple to get on the elevator.

"The baby is so early. How much did she weigh?"

"She's in the window of that nursery," Ben said pointing, an edge of frenzy to his voice as he reached for the button and pushed it multiple times.

"Thank you so much for bringing her in," Alex said. "I really appreciate you helping out."

But the door was closing and Ben didn't respond.

"What's his problem?" Terry asked.

"Like I said, his wife is probably pissed. I feel guilty now," Alex said, moving toward the nursery.

"It's natural to feel some responsibility," Terry said, grasping at any words of comfort.

"I'm getting scared," he said, his eyes filling with tears. "I'm about to meet my daughter."

"Aw, it's wonderful, Alex," Terry said softly, rubbing his back.

They stood in the large nursery window, a sign which said, Don't Tap on the Glass warning them not to.

There were four babies in small, clear plastic bassinets. "Can you see the names?" Terry asked.

A nurse stuck her head out of the door. "The mother's name?" she asked, smiling.

"Jennifer Falstaff," Alex said. "Our baby is early. She wasn't due until April."

"The Falstaff baby is full term," the nurse said. "She weighs over nine pounds. Are you sure you've got the name right?"

"It's my baby," he said. "I'm pretty sure I know when she was due."

"I thought she kept your name," Terry asked. "You should insist the baby has your name."

"Oh, there she is!" Alex cried.

As the nurse pushed the baby closer, Alex and Terry reached for each other's hands and leaned closer to the window.

Confusion segued to surprise, and finally, to resignation and relief.

"Well, I guess I understand now why Ben was in such a hurry to get away from us," Terry said.

They sat side by side in the cafeteria, drinking coffee. The room was dark except for the lights along the service area. The coffee was fresh. Terry grabbed two rolls from a cellophane covered tray.

"Oh, this is good. They must have just made them," she said, devouring the first one.

"You don't have to keep up this chatter," Alex said, reaching over to kiss her. "I'm not going to kill myself. I'm actually relieved."

"Are you going to say anything to her tonight? Or this morning?"

"No, why bother? I am going to go after her for the money that the divorce cost me," he said. "What I can't understand is how she thought she was going to get away with it?"

"Maybe she wasn't sure whose baby it was," Terry said.

"Remember, nine months ago, I was still in Iraq. When I got home, now that I think about it, we were only together that one time, and she initiated it, it was so forced and unsatisfactory. I'm not sure what she was trying to prove."

"Maybe she was trying to make Ben jealous," Terry said. "Force his hand."

"All I can say is thank God today is Saturday because there is no way in hell I could have worked."

"If you aren't going to see her, let's get home," she said. "We can still get a few hours of sleep and not waste the whole day."

"I'm not going to waste my time seeing her," he said. "Poor little baby. Now I'm going to worry about her."

"Me, too. But hopefully Jennifer's parents will help her. I wonder what Ben is going to do."

"Ben's screwed," Alex said. "Jennifer probably manipulated him just like she did me. I'd like to be a fly on his wall right now. His wife is formidable, if I remember correctly."

"Yuck, forget it," Terry said. "Let's just get home."

"We were going to house hunt today," Alex said. "Are you game?"

"If I get some sleep I will be later," she said. "Remember, we have lunch at Jason's at two."

"Oh, right. That's fine. If we get up early enough we can hit some open houses before then."

They got up from the table, placing their cups and plates in a cart, and left the cafeteria and finally the hospital.

"We never need to come here again," Alex said, sighing with relief. "Thank you for being with me. This would have sucked if I was alone."

"You'll never be alone again," she said, taking his hand.

"I love you," he said, opening her door.

"I love you, too." Terry said.

"Home," he said, yawning.

***

The Hawthorns safely back home by six, Rick saw their headlights sweep across his bedroom wall. It must have been a false alarm for them to be home so fast. He'd call Terry later. Jason invited them to have lunch in his overheated apartment above the bookstore that afternoon. Laying in bed with a smile on his face, the best thing that had ever happened for Rick was Jason Saunders coming out of the closet at the ripe old age of thirty-two. They were perfectly suited in every way, outside of the bedroom. To Jason's bookish perfection, Rick, a slightly quirky musician would thrive in the peace and order that Jason assembled around him.

Their relationship wasn't sexual yet, although it was possibly moving in that direction after a month. "We can take our time," Rick, the more experienced of the two had said. "That is if you're even attracted to me."

Blushing, Jason stopped fussing with piles of sheet music in Rick's living room Friday morning. He was there supposedly to have coffee, but the clutter made it impossible for him to relax. His natural inclination was to organize and Rick needed all the help he could get in that regard.

"I'm attracted to you," Jason said, trying and failing at keeping the whine out of his voice.

"But you were attracted to Terry, too," Rick said, needling him. "That's a contradiction."

"I was attracted to Terry's aloof concentration," Jason said, stamping his foot. "She sat on a stool in my shop for almost an hour going over every mystery book on the shelf. That attracted me."

"What attracts me to you?" Rick asked, getting up in his face. "Hurry and answer. Don't think about it."

"Your arms," Jason spat out, surprising himself, looking at Rick's tattooed biceps peeking out of the sleeves of a white t-shirt. "Why don't you have a shirt on anyway? It's freezing in here."

"What else?" Rick asked, reaching for a plaid flannel shirt that he knew Jason hated, but that made it all the more enticing to wear, flexing his arms while he put it on.

"The contents of your jeans," Jason sputtered, glancing down. "Is that enough?

Smiling, Rick didn't laugh like he wanted to because Jason would have been offended. Jason was unconsciously sexual. He tried to be such a prude, but then the most raucous things often came out of his mouth.

"I'll be happy to show you my bulge any time," Rick said, emphasizing it by grasping himself and giving it a little shake. "You just have to ask."

"Not today," Jason said, nerves taking over. "Stop playing with me."

"Jason, you'll know when I'm playing with you, trust me," he said, seriously. "Okay, so what's on the agenda? It's Friday! Hallelujah. What are we doing this weekend?"

Still cautious, Jason tried to tell if Rick was still messing with him, but he was busy reorganizing the sheet music Jason had just tried to straighten up.

"After coffee, if you ever get it made, I have to open up the shop. On Saturday, when my niece gets in, I'm having you and Terry and her husband over for a late lunch. And then, if you will humor me, I'd like to listen to you on the piano. It appears I'm the last person in Mount Airy to hear you play."

An audible sniff ended his diatribe, surprising Rick. "Are you kidding?" he asked. "Why don't I play right now, and then number four of your list will be accomplished."

Rather than wait for an answer; in the short time they'd been together, Rick learned Jason could be extremely stubborn, neurotic, and passive aggressive, Rick went to the piano, flipped imaginary tuxedo tails in the air, and sat on the piano bench. He warmed up by playing a little honky-tonk, the light tune diffusing uptight Jason, and he laughed before he could stop himself, sitting down next to Rick on the bench.

Segueing to Rachmaninoff Concerto 1, Rick looked over at Jason to see his response.

Jason shook his head, smiling.

"What?" Rick asked, his hands poised over the keys.

"Don't stop," he said. "But could you give a guy a warning?"

"No," Rick said, commencing to play. "I like the two extremes."

"Me, too," Jason said, leaning against Rick.

In a smooth transition, they slid into each other's arms. "Sort of like this," Rick whispered. "From cold, to hot."

"Nothing to everything," Jason said. "I'm sorry. I'm scared, I guess."

Taking Jason by the arms and looking into his eyes, Rich got serious. "We don't have to do anything," he said. "Let's get to know each other until there's nothing left to know but that."

"How long will you be able to wait?" Jason asked, again unable to keep a little whine out of his voice.

"I'm an adult man, not a horny teenager," Rich said. "I want you in my life for more than just a screw. Do you understand that?"

Touching foreheads, they looked intently at each other while Rick waited for an answer, a pivotal moment in their growing relationship. Jason nodded, biting his lip to keep from crying, his emotions all over the place lately, Rick's personality, physicality, everything about him checking off all the boxes for what Jason had ever wanted in a partner, except his gender.

"I just have to get used to this whole sexuality thing," he said. "You're right when you say I've been dishonest with myself. No, that's not true. I know what I am, but I didn't want to be that, because it goes against everything I'd hoped for. I've been fighting it."

"How's that working for you?" Rick asked.

"You see how it's working," Jason cried. "I'm thirty-two and miserable because I'm alone. The wife and kids ain't happening for me."

"Because you're G-A-Y," Rick said, as gently as he was able. "Look, just relax. I have the rest of my life. We never have to have sex, if that will make you feel better. But in the meantime, loosen up and try to enjoy the journey. You remind me a little of my dad, who couldn't take a trip without focusing on the destination. All of this fabulous scenery would be flashing by us as he sped toward wherever we were headed."

"That sounds awful," Jason said, reaching for a tissue. "I'll try to enjoy the journey." They sat side by side while Jason composed himself, mumbling again, "I guess if I'm having coffee I'd better make it myself."

Saturday morning, while Rick lay in bed, listening to the soft drone of Terry and Alex's voice echoing in the dawn, the crunch of their boots on frost, he thought of Jason. On Friday night, after he closed up the book shop, they'd taken the train into town to see a movie. After a wonderful dinner at one of Rick's favorite spots, they walked around the tourist area, holding hands, oblivious to the cold, getting to know each other just like Rick had recommended that morning.

"This morning, you said you'd been waiting for the wife and kids. How about settling for the husband and kids?" Rick asked, squeezing Jason's hand.

"Really?" he asked. "You'd do that with me?"

"Jason, I want a family, too. I've told you before that if you can see your way clear through the confusion, I'd do it with you. We'd make a striking couple."

"We already make a striking couple," Jason replied. "Look at the admiring glances we get. We don't know each other well enough to have the family talk yet."

"You need to decide what it is you want," Rick said, his mood quickly deescalating. "I've had enough walking."

"No problem," Jason said, releasing his hand. "Let's go home."

In silence they walked back to Jason's car, because he was uncomfortable in Rick's truck, worried gang members would think they were tough guys. The ride back to Mount Airy was a little icy, more than just the weather, neither one knowing what to say to break the tension.

"Are you still having Terry and Alex for lunch tomorrow?" Rick finally asked.

"Yes, they said they'd love to come. Can you come over by two? It will help me relax if you're there."

"I'll be there by two," Rick said. "Can I bring anything?"

"Can you stop by the Acme and pick up a cake I ordered?"

"Sure," he said, the store just around the corner. "I'm looking forward to this."

"Me, too," Jason said. "I'm trying to make it like a wedding celebration for them. I have champagne, and the cake. Lobster salad for lunch. It'll be nice to honor them even though it's a month late."

Rick hoped they weren't going to cancel on Jason, even though they had every reason to with the birth/no birth event in the middle of the night. Picking up his phone to check the time, it wasn't seven and he was getting tired again.

"I'll call them later," he mumbled, turned over in bed and went back to sleep.

***

The sound of Alex's angry voice woke Terry up at eleven. The door was closed. She got up on an elbow and strained to hear what he was saying. It sounded like he was talking to Jennifer, snippets of conversation revealing.

"Were you going to try to pawn Ben's kid off on me?"

Silence.

"That's the lamest rationalization I've ever heard."

Silence.

"We never have to talk to each other again."

And finally, "Goodbye."

Laying back down, she closed her eyes in case he came back into the bedroom. She hoped he wasn't hurt or disappointed. But the positive was that their baby would be the baby.

The door handle turned and he peeked in the room.

"I'm up," she said. "Come in."

"Did you hear that?"

"Just the end. What did she say?" Terry asked, sitting up again.

"About what you'd expect, she was so sorry; she didn't think the baby would look so much like Ben; she didn't think it was a big deal. She was really going to try to pawn her off as my kid."

"Desperation makes people do bad things," Terry said.

"She said Ben finally told his wife, and that she's pissed, but now he can acknowledge the baby. She won't be fatherless."

"Oh, that's good," Terry said. "I know you were worried about that."

"I know. I'm weird," he said. "Can you get up? We can hit some open houses if you're up to it."

"Do I smell coffee?" she said, surprised.

"You do, but I have no idea what it will taste like," he said.

He left so she could get ready in private, and while she dressed, he paced in the living room, thinking how close he came to losing everything that was important to him because of a lie.

The bedroom door opened and she came out dressed up for the luncheon at Jason's apartment.

"You look beautiful," he said, going to her.

"Did everything just get one hundred percent easier for us?" she asked, putting her arms around him.

"It did," he said. "It's just us now. No custody worries. Just one baby."

"Just one wife," Terry said.

"Shall we fill our travel mugs and go to a few open houses? There's one right at the end of our street where it dead-ends on Lincoln Drive. I've had my eye on that house since I moved up here."

"Which one is it?" Terry asked.

"It's the stone one," he said, holding her coat.

"They're all stone, Alex" Terry replied, giggling.

"You'll see."

Bundled up again, they took their coffee mugs out to the car and settled in for a drive to the end of the street.

"Oh, I like that," she said, when he pulled in front of a wide lawn, the house set far off the road. "Look at that yard."

"It's on over an acre," Alex said, sweeping his arm across the yard. "All fenced, backs up to parklands."

"Hiding places for homeless people," she said.

"We'll put motion detector lights up," he replied.

"It'll be like a strobe light out there," she said, shocking Alex, who laughed so hard he hit his knee with his hand.

"Well it's true," she said.

When he calmed down, he put his arm around her shoulder and they walked up to the front door together. "Look at this porch," Terry said. "It's the perfect space for a little child to play."

The realtor greeted them and led the way through a maze of rooms.

"This kitchen is amazing," Terry said. "Most old houses have such dingy, small kitchens."

A huge, professional stove with an enormous hood was the focal point of the space, and seeing it, Terry giggled; she never used more than one burner on her small stove.

"This house was built for a family who had a staff," the realtor said. "The big kitchen at the back of the house was for a cook and her assistants. There's a smaller kitchen on the third floor for the staff to use."

"We won't have a staff though, so we really don't need a second kitchen," Terry said.

"In the basement, there's a professional laundry that the current owners turned into their art studio."

"That won't get any use from us, either," Terry said laughing.

"I always wanted to learn to make pots and tiles," Alex said, clarifying the use of the studio.

"That's right! We'll have to buy a potter's wheel," Terry said.

"It sounds a little nerdy," he said, embarrassed. "I like to paint, too. Earle said he'll give me lessons."

"That's wonderful," Terry said. "I'm so impressed. You are so interesting!"

"Ha! That's a laugh, but I'm so happy you think I'm interesting. Jennifer made fun of me when she found out I took a pottery class in college," he said.

"Screw her," Terry said. "She's history."

"Let's look at the property," he said, leading her in back to an in-ground pool, currently covered, and a barn.

They stood in the yard listening to birdsong, feathered diehards who'd weathered the Pennsylvania winter. Distant traffic, just enough to remind them it was still the city, the train coming up the hill to Allen's Lane, and the squeak of brakes of the K bus speeding down Mount Pleasant.

"Do you feel it?" Alex whispered. "This is our house, Terry. What do you think?"

"Do you want a big place like this?" she asked, looking back at it looming over their shoulders. "I can't even imagine trying to keep it clean. I thought we'd get a second bedroom and maybe another bathroom. This house has six bedrooms."

"We'll get a cleaning lady. I want it," he said, smiling. "We already have servants' quarters."

"Ha! That's true," she replied.

"Let's make an offer."

"Okay," she said. "At least it's in our neighborhood."

After they toured the rest of the place, they walked out to the car hand in hand. "Do we even need to look at any more houses?" Alex asked. "If you're okay with this one, I want to make an offer on it today."

"Whatever you want, Alex," Terry said. "I can't believe how easy it was to find a home. I thought we'd be looking for a year."

"Like you said this morning, everything just got easier for us."

Chapter 20

April 1

Traffic on Christian Street in South Philadelphia was usually a car or two an hour, but on this Saturday, it was bumper to bumper, the sounds of engines idling, the occasional horn blowing, radios blaring, laughter or the opposite, impatient drivers needing to be on their way and a little vituperative language unleashing.

"There must be a detour," Tina Halevy said in her thick accent, standing in the window.

Arvin squinted at her, his head up four inches off the pillow. "Don't stand in the window naked, please," he said, his head plopping back down. "That's probably what all the racket is about."

"Ha! I doubt it," she said, coming back to bed.

Watching with one eye open, Arvin liked her body, loved her body, even though she was so different from what he thought he liked in the past, the preconceived notion of the Playboy model his father and older brothers idolized.

The perfect woman's body for most men was Terry Kovac's voluptuous earth mother, with big breasts and a butt to match. But Arvin didn't like it, especially the rest of it, below the waist; it scared him, its many nooks and crannies, there were too many surprises. In his father's Hustler magazines, photos of shaved girls in living color, it looked like an operation. He'd never touched Terry or any other girl there.

"How'd you ever get through a gynecology rotation?" Tina asked, appalled. "We're never going to last if you don't take an interest in me down there."

Tina's body was flat and firm, her skin pale, light curly hair, and she wore a padded bra because her breasts were barely there, little high bumps on her chest. Hers was an athlete's body, and she disciplined it by running miles every morning, rain or shine. Except on days that traffic detoured down their street.

"Come here," he said, his voice gravely, a sure sign he was ready for sex. "Show me what I need to know about you."

"Ah! You're ready for a lesson, is that right?" she said, crawling next to him.

"Let me see you," he said, pointing at it.

Facing him, she sat up, and opened her legs, framing her genitals with her hands. "See? It's not that mysterious."

Reaching over, he gently poked her with a finger, and it separated for him. "It's like magic," he said. "Open sesame."

Laughing, she shook her head. "No, it's not. I'm responding to you. Things tend to move a little bit when that happens."

"You're wet," he said, going a little further. "May I? Or do I have to pass a test first?"

"You're doing well," she murmured. "Don't stop, please."

He sat up, interested, and explored a little longer, getting it just right, she tensed up and to his delight, had an orgasm. "Wow, look at that thing go," he said getting right down there to watch.

"Don't waste it, Arvin," Tina moaned. "You should get inside as soon as possible."

Doing as she asked, he pushed his penis against her, watching the head enter her, her lips surrounding him, almost sucking on him, and before he knew it, he was over the top, moving inside of her, hammering up against her with his hips, losing all his inhibitions, just like it was supposed to be.

They held on to each other when he was finished, the need to get away from it, to forget about it, to move forward wasn't his goal like it was with all the other women. For the first time, he wasn't thinking about himself.

"Are you satisfied?" he asked, his eyes closed, running his fingers along her arm.

"Completely," she sighed. "Are you?"

"Totally," he said. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long to do it for you."

"The timing was just right. You know I love you, don't you Arvin?"

"I know it, and I love you, Tina," he said, flabbergasted. "Wow, I said I love you."

"What does that mean to you?" she asked.

"It means it's just you and me, from here on out."

"No other women, correct? You know I won't stand for that," she said, serious.

"Nope. No other women. I don't even want to think of another woman. You are all I want. I think we should get married," he said. "My father had more than one wife because our country allowed it with no restrictions. He'll probably have a fit if I get married, but I only want you."

"You don't want to marry me," she said. "And my father would definitely have a fit."

"Because I'm a Muslim?"

"Yes, and because I'm a Jew. We can live together, though. They'd never find out."

"No, I don't think so. You'd better find a way to marry me, Tina. I'm in the mood to get married, to have a big, expensive wedding so I can get some gifts from all these people I've had to buy gifts for. And I want to have a family. We should be married for that."

"Like Terry and Alex?" she asked, smiling down at him.

"Exactly. Find the courage to tell your grandmother and she can go to bat for you with your parents."

"We might have to fly to Israel," she said. "Do a little damage control once I tell her. But this is only if you insist."

"I insist," Arvin said. "In the meantime, we go ring shopping."

"Really?" she asked, laughing. "You know I don't care about that sort of thing."

"It's the American way. Then we can have a big party and show it off to all of our friends."

"You must move into my apartment," she said, grimacing. "It's time to let your youth go, Arvin. This place even smells bad."

"I love this place," he said, looking around the bedroom with his hands under his head. "But I'll do it if it will make you happy. And your house is nicer than this."

"There is no comparison," she said, laughing.

Playfully smacking him on the hip, she got out of bed and started to straighten the sheets.

"Get up. I'm hungry and we can get brunch until two at Georgie's on the River." A smart woman, Tina knew how to get Arvin to do most of the things she wanted him to do, just by manipulating him a bit.

"Yum. Georgie's is my favorite place to eat in the entire town! How'd you know that?" he asked, springing out of bed.

"Just a lucky guess," she said, kissing his cheek.

***

Moving day snuck up on them so quickly, they were doing last minute packing while waiting for the movers to arrive. Terry in the kitchen, flicking errant tears off her cheek from time to time, having put the last cooking implement in a box, stretched tape over the opening, neatly cutting the end with scissors. With a marker, she listed the contents of the box in her neat lawyer's print. Purposely keeping her back to the window, she knew if she looked out over the yard to Rick's house, she'd start crying in earnest. The possibility that he was going to move in with Jason above the bookshop made moving slightly easier, but only slightly.

Coming up the stairs from Earle's apartment, Alex had spent the last half hour reassuring Earle that the new owners of Terry's apartment were lovely people, both medical residents at the hospital in East Falls, and colleagues of Benny's.

Terry and Alex would just be a few blocks away, at the end of Mount Pleasant Avenue in a 1920s stone house with many bedrooms and bathrooms, and a big old barn. Terry already promised to have Earle over to do a painting of the garden.

"What will we do with all of those rooms?" Terry asked. "We have furniture for two of them. Not even."

"Oh I think we will fill them up. Your father hinted that if he and Anna move in together they'll have a house full of stuff to get rid of."

"I'm not a big fan...Don't tell."

"I won't. But you might regret it some day. Just keep an open mind," Alex said, looking around. "The movers will be here in half an hour. They said they've never had such a small move."

"Did you tell them to go..."

"Relax, Terry. They weren't trying to be insulting," Alex said, hugging her, then looking down at her belly. "You have a cantaloupe under your sweatshirt."

"He grew overnight," she said, looking down at her belly, "If this keeps up I won't be able to button my jeans soon."

"Four months! Time is flying by."

"Oh Alex!" she cried, holding her hands over her belly. "He moved!" Snapping her fingers, she grabbed his hand and put it where she could feel life. "Can you feel it?"

"Yes!" he said, dropping to his knees to pull the waistband of her yoga pants over her belly. With both hands free, he placed them over her and felt the fluttering, like butterflies from within, putting his ear to her skin in case he could hear. "That's amazing! I'll go to your next doctor appointment with you. I want to hear his heartbeat."

"Did we conceive him here in the apartment? Or in that hotel?" Terry asked.

"Why's that important?" he asked, standing back up again, laughing. "You sure know how to break a mood."

"Because if we made him here, it's just one more reason to feel sad about leaving," she said.

Looking around the apartment, Alex also felt a little pang of regret as he walked into the living room and looked out over the treetops. "I'm really sorry to leave here. I'll miss the sound of the train, the bus at the stop, I'll miss the people walking up the hill to catch the last bus of the night.

"Remember the fight we heard on New Year's Night? The guy chasing his girlfriend up the hill. 'But baby! I loves ya!'"

She moved over next to him and threaded her arm through his. "Yes, I remember that. It was funny. I'll miss seeing the lights from Alden Park Manor at night," she said. "I'll miss living next to Mrs. Dell, hearing Rick play the piano in the morning. I'll miss the high school track team running up the hill, and the line up of people at Mrs. Cougar Tarot Card Reading on Friday night. This has been a really great place to live."

"Our new house is close to the train," Alex said. "And you can see quite a view of the park from the third floor of that house, too."

He reached down and placed his hand over her belly again. "This little guy will grow up in the grand house. It'll be a great family house, you wait and see."

Turning to each other, they kissed, Terry holding his face in her hands. "God, I love you so much," she said.

"I love you, too, Terry. Wow, I mean I really love you."

The sound of a diesel truck engine got their attention and they looked out to see the huge moving van blocking west bound traffic.

"Here we go," he said, his arm around her shoulder. "No turning back."

"Nope," she said, smiling. "I never look back."

The next chapter of her life was about to begin.

The End

I hope you enjoyed Bittersweets Terry and Alex.

Be sure to subscribe to my email list at Https://suzannejenkins.com to received periodic Free stories.

The Bittersweets Books

Bittersweets – Sweet and steamy romances set in Philadelphia. Bittersweets: Terry Loves Alex is the first stand alone in the saga.

Terry Loves Alex  A one night stand segues to a weekend of passion, leading to a lifetime of romance. A Philadelphia lawyer, tired of making the same relationship mistakes, falls in love at last, and with the advice of her aging father, Harry, traverses the mysteries of romance and heartache.

Brenda and Larry – A trip to the emergency room leads to a whirlwind romance for Philadelphia law student Brenda and ER physician Larry. Head over heels in love with Brenda, nothing can disturb the love he has for her, not even a dark secret from her past.

Oscar and Lisa   Oscar's determination not to rush into love, hoping that taking their time will make it last causes Lisa to have second thoughts. Will waiting for that perfect moment to take their relationship to the next level ever come, or does fate have other ideas?

The Bride Wore Leather: The Sequel to Oscar and Lisa   Lisa stood on her toes to reach Oscar's lips. Muscle memory clicked in, remembering how perfectly their mouths fit together, the line of their bodies melding. The only thing they didn't know is what total intimacy would be like, because Oscar had been too afraid. But he wasn't afraid now.

And more!

Pam of Babylon

#1 Pam of Babylon Always FREE! Long Island housewife Pam Smith is called to the hospital after her husband Jack suffers a heart attack on the train from Manhattan, but someone else arrives first.

#2 Don't You Forget About  Me Three women discover they share more than Jack's love.

#3 Dream Lover   A gritty, realistic portrait of the aftermath of deceit, more pieces of the puzzle come together.

#4 Prayers for the Dying   Pam makes startling revelations about herself, and the others.

#5 Family Dynamics   Heartbreak and devastation move toward triumph in the fifth installation.

#6 The Tao of Pam  Pam is at a crossroad which will take her to the next phase of her life, if she chooses the right path.

#7 In Memoriam   Pam endures life at the beach with remarkable strength. But don't be too impressed; history does have a way of repeating itself.

We're Just Friends: Short Story Prequel to #8   A short story meant to fill in details after Book #7

#8 Soulmates   Pam faces new challenges with glamour and poise, while Sandra doesn't disappoint, and Lisa discovers new strengths. "Women's fiction with a touch of noir."

#9 Save the Date   Pam and John plan their wedding, while love and healing grow around the couple.

Julie Hsu: Short Story Prequel to #10   Julie Hsu comes back on the scene at the end of Save the Date, Book #9.

#10 I'll Always Love You   The women; Bernice, Nelda, Pam, Lisa, Violet, Cara and little Miranda rise up in power in this tale of triumph and love. But there are a few proverbial flies in the ointment.

A Good Beach Day: a FREE Pam of Babylon Short Story – While John's away on a business trip, Pam faces the truth about her marriage. To John, not Jack! Ask the author for your free copy xo

#11 Beach Spirits   Pam wrestles with spirits, living and dead as the past haunts her.

#12 South Shore Romance   At last, with everything aligned perfectly, and her family occupied, Pam finds romance, love, excitement and joy with Senator Charlie Monroe and his rescued Greyhound, Margaret.

#13 Meet Me at the Beach   Pam, Lisa, Nelda, Sister Mary and Sandra seek hints of their destiny.

Gladys and Ed's Big Adventure   Short Story Prequel to #14 Pam's Adventures in Babylon

Beautiful Heartbreaker   A Pam of Babylon Novella Don't look now, but Jack Smith is right behind you," Marian whispered. A flush of pleasure cruised through Genevieve's body, but later, she thought it might have been a warning.

#14 Pam's Adventures in Babylon   Life at the beach takes on a new twist as Pam embraces the children Jack left behind. The triad of Lisa, Allison, and Ryan grows closer, then further apart when Ryan's lust gets out of control.  

#15 Second Chance   Just when life settles down to a dull roar for those people whom Pam holds closest to her heart, the pendulum swings in the opposite direction and everyone is tossed into the air. Who will they hold on to as they fall back to earth?

#16 If I Ever Leave You   After Randy leaves for Greece and another Adventure Trek season, family demands on Pam make an impromptu trip to the Greek Islands to meet up with him more appealing.

#17 Touch Me When We're Dancing   Everyone is dancing right before chaos strikes.

#18 Portrait of Marriage  The aftermath of Pam's lavish beachside Memorial Day party on Long Island has everyone wondering what's up with their relationships. What does a suspicious wife, a bored husband and a nosy neighbor have to do with the story? Everything in the saga of Babylon's beautiful and rich Pamela Fabian Smith Zapelli Bradshaw.

And More!

***

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Sweet and Sassy Christmas: A Time for Romance – 11 sweet and sassy romance stories, including My Christmas Romance by Suzanne!

Sweet and Sassy Valentine: Love is in the Air Coming

Snowflakes and Christmas Kisses: A Yuletide Mix of Romance – 7 Stories

And many more!

***

Greektown Stories

The Greeks of Beaubien Street is the First book in The Greektown Stories.

The Donut Shop Murder - A prequel to the series. Four days before Thanksgiving, the dead body of a paralegal is found dumped on a residential street in Midtown Detroit.

The Princess of Greektown - Jill investigates the messiest crime of her career, while her family suffers a loss that changes the way life will be lived in Greektown.

Christmas in Greektown As Christmastime approaches, the family prepares for another get-together in Greektown.

A Greektown Wedding - After Christmas was over, the family could finally focus on other things, like love!

And More!

The Burn District Science Fiction Series

Burn District: The Short Story Prequel A neighbor warns Laura and Mike that their town is next as the destruction moves inland.

Burn District 1 The family flees to Steve Hayward's ranch in the desert at the Mexican Border, outside of Yuma, Arizona to build an encampment.

Burn District 2 After the New Year, Jenna Hayward regretfully accepted that she had waited too long to leave Jacksonville for her father's Arizona ranch.

Memory of the Color Yellow - Post apocalyptic Ask for a free copy.

***

Stronger - Karen Calder's FBI ex Michael puts a mobster behind bars and no one in his family is safe. Will she be able to forgive him when his job threatens her life?

The Jade Emperor - After a stranger appears on their doorstep, a picture-perfect family takes a side trip to crazy town in this story of a soldier's last chance at love.

Perfect for Him - It's hard to find the perfect wife for your husband when he still has you.

Alice's Summertime Adventure - We meet Alice Bradshaw when she is at a crossroad.

Someone Like You - Life gets in the way as upstate NY sisters, Marley and Abigail cling to each other and their young children.

The Savant of Chelsea - From Publisher's Weekly April 2014 "This gripping novel from Jenkins delivers complex twists and turns from start to finish."

Gracefully, Like a Living Thing: The Sequel to The Savant of Chelsea-

So many possibilities existed at the explosive ending of The Savant of Chelsea.

Slow Dancing - After midnight, a mysterious stranger appears at the edge of the woods and the peaceful life fifteen-year-old Ellen Fisher has with her beloved stepfather Frank is turned upside down.

The Liberation of Ravenna Morton - Captures the small-town dynamic of a family's private secrets being exposed to the world.

Ravenna's Dream - As Christmas approaches, family discord upsets Ravenna Morton's plans for the usual holiday gathering at her cabin on the Kalamazoo River

Friends to Lovers Gorgeous Pipi Wiener's family changes forever when their dad is tragically killed in the Vietnam War.

Mend Me Mend My Heart - A sweet, clean story. Charlotte Baker, a thirty something widow raising two children, is holding on to the memory of her late husband, Steve. The idea of dating again has never crossed her mind, until she takes a fall at the cemetery where Steve is buried which brings the handsome caretaker to her rescue.

Running with Horses - The closest thing to a boyfriend Mindy has is her horse, but that's about to change.

