

# House on Fire

A Different Kind of Love Story

By G. Andy Mather

Smashwords Version--Copyright 2014, G. Andy Mather--All rights reserved.

<http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/andymather>

Eighteenth Edition, 2/6/2018

This is a fictional story. The resemblance of any character or situation to reality is purely coincidental.

Dedicated to all young lovers.

# # #

# Prologue

Even at eleven I understood a lot about people in love. The sparkly glance, the brush of a hand, the subtle smile that can't hide the desire behind it. The way one drops what they're doing when the other comes home to their embrace. My parents were passionately in love.

And yeah, sometimes they were noisy at night. The next morning she'd hum, and he'd whistle. Gross to think about but comforting in a way--kinda like insurance. Spaz's folks broke up and it made him miserable. I knew my parents would never get divorced.

Mom said they married in their hearts long before exchanging vows in a church, that theirs was a love at first sight. I thought that was just a saying--until it happened to me.

It was after school on a Friday, two weeks before Thanksgiving. Gray clouds hung low over Detroit. A cool breeze scraped brown, dry leaves across the concrete yard. Others, bright yellow and red, clung to wet grass by the high chain link fence. The smell of damp leaves always reminds me.

I'd wandered away from Mom and Dad. There were tons of kids on the playground, strangers with hard faces. Some laughed, but it seemed sharp and mean. I was just watching. I didn't belong there. I was the alien.

One girl stood out. She sat on a step, twirling a plastic rose, just a green stick with faded purple petals. Her skin was like coffee when you pour in cream, and her hair long and black, but not zig-zaggy like the other kids. I'd never seen anyone like her. Why did she seem so familiar?

That's not what I mean, though. She sat alone, as if nobody else could see her. An outcast even among orphans. She glanced at me with a flash of what might have been recognition, and then quickly away.

Normally I'd be too shy, but something drew me to her, so I sat down.

"I'm Cory. What's your name?"

"Jessica," she whispered, and turned to me with just the flicker of a smile.

That's when it happened. It was like I could see into her, right through her eyes, and knew we were connected in ways that I couldn't begin to describe. It made my body shiver. I felt thrilled and terrified--like when your rollercoaster goes over a hill and the world falls out from beneath you.

"You new. Y'gotta to stay here, too?" Her voice was high and sweet. A strand of dark hair blew across her face and she brushed it away. I tried not to stare, but couldn't help myself

"Um, no, Mom and Dad want to adopt a baby." The idea of getting an infant sister wasn't exciting, but Mom got dreamy-faced whenever she talked about it. They'd been filling out papers for months.

"Oh." Jessica looked up at the gloomy sky. "You ever pray?"

"I guess."

"I do." She hunched her shoulders. "I prayt real hard las' night."

"Why?"

Her eyes moved to a group of teenage boys by the high chain link fence. They glared at us and she looked away.

"They' the ones," she said.

"What d'ya mean?"

"The ones who hurt me." The way she hugged her knees pulled back her jacket sleeves, revealing bruises on her thin wrists.

I stared at the bruises. "Last night?"

She nodded, and after hesitating, "Lotsa nights."

I wasn't stupid. I understood what she wasn't saying. Without even looking I could feel the big kids' stares.

She gazed down at her feet. "I prayt for a garden angel."

Our eyes met again, and it was electric. That scared feeling washed over me, this time more like panic. It twisted in me. I was way out of my depth and wanted to be back at the picnic table with Mom and Dad and the social work lady. I didn't know any angels, but I knew a force of nature. Reaching over, I took Jessica's hand.

"Come with me--I gotta talk to Dad."

Mom and Dad sat close together, hugging. They were so mushy. Jessica climbed right up next to Mom and leaned in, showing her the flower. Mom looked surprised, but then she put her arm around the girl and got that dreamy look.

Dad's face was usually hard to tell, except when his forehead looked annoyed, like it was then. I tugged on his sleeve until he finally leaned over. His neck smelled like Old Spice, and his beard tickled my cheek as I whispered in his ear. Dad's forehead got angry, bad as I'd ever seen it, but he just nodded and went back to listening to the social worker. She was explaining how children should only be raised by a family of the same heritage.

"My great-grampa Laine came from Finland," I said, but she was busy talking. I wondered if any of the orphan babies were Finnish. Probably not.

Slow minutes passed. Maybe Dad forgot. Should I tell him again? But then he said, "Jessica, Cory tells me the older boys hurt you at night. Is that true?"

Jessica looked over at me, asking if it was safe to tell, so I nodded.

Her voice was small. "Uh-huh."

"Can you show me where they hurt you, Sweetie?"

She looked back at me, so I nodded again. She pointed down where they hurt her. Mom made a weird sound.

"Jessie!" the lady gasped. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"They made me scared."

Dad suggested that they head inside and talk to the director. A different woman from the orphanage took Jessie to the hospital. A policeman came and asked me to point out the boys through the office window. The first lady gave him their names. I told the officer about the bruises. He wrote it in a little notebook.

"My Dad's a policeman, too," I told him.

The day before my twelfth birthday we got dressed up and went to see a judge. We had to wait a long time for our turn. Somewhere in all the boring talk, the judge said yes. And that's how Jessie got to be my sister.

# Chapter 1--Tue. Dec. 6

"Law and morality?" Dad rumbled. "That's a heavy assignment for a sophomore English class." He gave Jessie his full attention. What we did and thought was important to him. "What's your topic, Bug?"

"Abortion," Jessie chirped. She delighted in pushing the edge. "And it's for Social Studies."

"Current Issues," I corrected her.

"Excellent, that's a great subject, and I'm sure you'll do a first-rate job on it." He wasn't being sarcastic, but his broad shoulders sagged a little. He tried to hide it, absently pulling on his graying beard. "I'd like to hear all about it... After dinner, okay?"

We said grace and I served Jess her venison pasty across the kitchen table. Dad tried to take a bite, but his hand trembled and it fell off his fork. He sighed.

We ate a lot of venison. For me, deer hunting was sad and messy, but it saved us a lot on groceries. Dad used to shoot clean, but after he quit drinking his hands were unsteady and he often made a mess of it. He'd trained me well, though, so my kills were clean. And Dad was so proud. I took our limits, the freezers were full, and the ordeal was over until next season.

"So, Son, I'm afraid to ask," he said between mouthfuls. "What's your paper going to be about?"

"Incest."

Dad's fork clattered onto Corelle.

This was my chance. I'd run through the next moment all day. I gauged Jessie's reaction, but I couldn't read her eyes anymore. I decided she might be unsettled, but not suspicious. My secret was still safe--she was just surprised to have her topic trumped.

After a few long seconds, Dad swallowed the mouthful and groaned, "Why are my twins conspiring to give me a heart attack?"

It was an old joke. Jessie's skin was hot chocolate, mine was skim milk. Both of us had fine bones and straight hair, but head to head we looked like piano keys. Her nose was soft, mine was pointy. Her long neck made her look graceful, mine just made me look awkward. And those eyes! The lids were oriental, with irises brown as coffee and pupils so wide and deep... Sometimes it felt like I'd fall into them.

We really were twins, though. I was born on December thirteenth, up in Escanaba at six in the morning. Jessie was born down in Detroit, just five minutes later but over four hundred miles south. That's why Jessie had always been my little sister, even when she was taller than me for a while.

Dad turned to me. This was a dangerous moment. He had a poker face of stone, and little got by him. The best I could do is watch his gray eyes and guess what information he was trying to gather. He finished chewing another mouthful and then took a long drink, studying me intensely.

"Interesting, Son. What drew you to that subject?"

Good question. Why wasn't it enough for me to adore Jessie as her brother? Would he read it in my face? I played my only card.

"Amanda Yirzbik."

Dad closed his eyes just longer than a blink. I'd guessed right about Amanda. I was relieved because he'd focus on that, not on me.

Sis leaned over her plate. "You mean that creepy girl with the long hair? She doesn't talk to anyone."

"Yeah, that's her. She goes to Bethany, but she's only there every second Sunday."

"You're right," Jess said. "I didn't see her at the service on Sunday."

"I talked with her last week. She sees her dad the other weekends."

"It doesn't sound like she's very sociable, Son. What prompted the conversation?"

"When she isn't at church, the next day she looks sick."

Dad frowned. The evidence was thin.

"Yeah, it's true," Sis said. "Janna told me Amanda threw up in the girl's room yesterday. But what does Amanda have to do with...?" Jessie's eyes narrowed. "Whoa. You don't think...?"

"I don't know. She has two older step-brothers at her dad's."

"Cory! Dad? Should we do something?"

I looked at Dad. "Yesterday after school I told Mr. Harding my suspicions."

"Involving the principal is a pretty serious thing to do, Son. Do you think you should've talked to me first?"

"Trust my gut. That's what you always tell me."

Dad nodded.

"I really hope you're wrong," Jessie said.

"So do I, Sis."

"Any idea how it turned out, Son?"

"Just that she's gone. There was no padlock on her locker today, and it's cleaned out. I hope she's okay. I didn't mean to make things worse."

He hesitated, assessing how much to reveal. A former Deputy Sheriff, and now a nine-one-one dispatcher, Dad had lots of contacts.

"Yeah, she's okay. I'm afraid you called it, Son. Sheriff Sanders picked up Danny Yirzbik and his boys last night."

My supper squirmed.

"The boys rolled right over. Apparently, it was going on for years. They were victims before they were perps."

"Daddy, do you mean that their father...? He... That's crazy. He... Eew! Why would anyone do that?"

"That's just the way it is sometimes, Bug," he said.

"It's not about sex, Sis, it's about power over someone, isn't that right, Dad?" He nodded. "Incest usually involves violence, coercion, or other kinds of abuse. The worst part's that guys who do it'll mess with your brain and make you think you deserve it."

"That really happens in families?" she said.

Dad nodded again. "It's a problem up here. Nobody wants to talk about it, of course."

Jess shook her head. "It wasn't on the news today."

"They're being held on drug charges," Dad said. "The Mayor wants to keep it quiet, but the prosecutor is hoping for some attention. Probably having his good suit pressed. The arraignment isn't until Thursday."

Jessie glanced at me and looked away. She looked uncomfortable.

Dad changed the subject. "How did your chemistry test go today, Bug?"

I ate my dinner, watching them interact. I knew he longed for the closer connection they used to share, but Jessie had become guarded and withdrawn. At least she wasn't violent or as volatile as she had been for a while, back when her love for me had turned bitter. She answered his questions and picked at her peas.

After a while she said, "May I be excused, Daddy? I'm not hungry now."

"Go ahead, we'll clean up. And both of you..." Jessie turned. "Like a lot of stuff we say at this table, any gossip about Amanda stays right here." We both nodded.

"Wow, Dad," I said. "Those boys will need therapy."

"Doesn't sound like they'll get it. The prosecutor wants convictions. If they go to Marquette they're going to need protection. They're just eighteen and nineteen, and going to prison as a child molester..."

And that was exactly why no one could know my secret. Scandal. Separation. Prison. But the worst was what it would do to Dad and Jess. I couldn't let that happen.

I shivered. "No winners, huh?"

"Nope, no winners, Son, but one survivor. You observed, analyzed, and acted appropriately. I'm proud of you. Maybe you should consider law enforcement." He'd loved being in the Military Police and then working for the county, and this wasn't the first time he'd suggested it.

"We don't know it was me, Dad."

"An anonymous tip from a classmate--what are the odds?" He scooped the rest of the peas onto his plate.

"Crap."

He frowned at me. He didn't approve of even mild swearing.

"Sorry. I really didn't want to be right," I said.

"But you were. You saved that girl, and maybe others, too."

It should've made me feel better that I'd helped her, but it didn't. I knew I wasn't much different from those three creeps in jail. I was morally deformed, and going to hell with them.

"Dad, Mr. Yirzbik is evil, isn't he?"

"We all have goodness and wickedness in us, Son. What he did was evil. You start using other people as objects, debasing their humanity... Those are evil thoughts and actions that ultimately make things like slavery and genocide possible. Why do you think you picked up on it?"

My heart skipped. "What do you mean?"

"It's a big leap from someone looks sick to child abuse." His eyes watched mine. "Why do you think you made the connection?"

My mouth turned dry. "Um, I guess I study people, like you've taught me. I look for patterns. I wonder why people behave like they do."

"Nothing else?" I felt his eyes searching me with their mind-reader gaze. I had to answer, but he'd catch me if I lied.

"There was something about the way she looked at me. Like when I first saw Jessie and knew..."

He grinned. "Galahad finds a damsel in distress?"

I tried to grin back. "I wasn't thinking of her as girlfriend material, if that's what you mean."

"Hmmm." He looked back to his plate and stabbed the last bit of pastry crust. He chewed slowly, a pondering crease in his forehead. "But you have someone in mind?"

"Right now, it's just a spectator sport," I said carefully.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry."

Damn, that was close.

He added sternly, "You aren't going to use that as your topic."

"It's okay, Dad, Mr. Palmer approved it."

"Let's get the dishes, and I'll explain the consequences to you. Then you can decide."

Later, at my desk, I wrote about marriage laws. It fit the assignment and I knew a fair bit about it.

In most states, you could get married at eighteen, sixteen with parental consent, and even younger with a judge's order. Some allowed first cousins to marry, but that was still a felony in other states. I did a couple paragraphs on bigamy and added how infidelity was still illegal in many places but was seldom enforced. My original topic would have been easier--I'd already spent a couple years studying that subject.

Sis was talking on her phone. Her door was closed but I could hear her through the heat vent we shared. I looked out my door at the old picture in the hall. The two of us smiling at each other on the couch.

When she finished her call, she walked into my room and sat on the edge of my bed. Alarm bells rang in my head. It had been a long time since she'd voluntarily approached me.

"What're you working on?"

"Current Issues."

"Oh." She was silent for a bit. "Do you ever think about that, Cory?"

"About what?"

"Us. Sex." Blunt as always.

A cold chill of terror raced through my blood. I shouldn't have risked using that as a topic. How could I deflect this?

"You mean like Amanda? No way! I'd never do anything like that to you. I'd never hurt you."

Her cheeks glowed a rusty tint. "No, I mean, we used to be so close. Physically. When we were kids."

My palms felt sweaty. "Sure, but like you said, we were just kids. It couldn't be like that now. And that has nothing to do with Amanda."

"Yeah, I get that. But, I guess, do you think of me, as a girl, ever?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, just trying to buy time. My voice squeaked a little.

"I mean, what if you... Had those urges? What would you do?"

Whoa! Did she expect me to detail my fantasies about...?

She twisted her fingers together. "You know, would you tell me?"

I had to get out of this!

"How do I know?" I asked. "What would you do if you had an urge to kill me in my sleep?"

"Why would I do that?"

Good, I knew she'd say that.

"My point exactly. If I do a paper on sibling murders, would it mean I wanted to kill you?"

Her strong, small shoulders eased under her sweater. "Oh, okay, duh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply..."

"Look, Sissy, you're beautiful, smart, and I love you. But you're my little sister. I don't..." My god I hated lying. "I told you that I don't feel that way. And as Dad says, it's not always about you." We both heard that phrase regularly.

"Do you think it's a sin?" she asked.

"To kill your brother in his sleep? Yes! It's definitely a sin, and I'm totally against the whole concept."

"No, like, what if someone felt an attraction, even though they were related? Do you think it's ever okay?" I was glad to hear her talking about other people instead of me. At least we were speaking hypothetically.

"I'm not really the right person to ask about sin. But if somebody felt that way, I think they'd need some serious psychiatric help."

I sure could use some help. Hey, maybe that was something to consider--not the school counselor, but a professional, one with legal privacy privileges. Wait, those don't apply if you're only fifteen. Also, probably not if they decide you're deranged, or any kind of threat. That ray of hope quickly dimmed. But what about a confessional? Her movement interrupted my train of thought.

She pulled a tissue from my bedside table and blew her nose a couple times. As soon as we started using the furnace in the fall, the air in the house would dry out. It made your nose itchy, and everything had static electricity. She didn't leave, but she didn't say anything either. The silence was not comfortable.

"Anyway," I said, "Dad convinced me to change my topic. I'm doing marriage laws. Have you started your paper?"

"Not really. I have to talk to Dad about it, too." She rolled her eyes.

# Chapter 2

When Jessie first came to live with us, she was alternately anxious and ferocious. She had terrible nightmares and didn't like to be touched. I suffered bite marks and scratches learning that. She apologized afterward, but I learned not to surprise her.

One night, I woke to her sitting by my bed, a dark form on the rug. I could see the whites of her eyes, which disappeared when she blinked.

"Hey, Cory?" she said in that high, sweet voice.

"What is it? Are you okay?"

"You won't never hurt me, will you?"

"No way." I rubbed my eyes.

"Didn't think so. Jus' wanted to hear you say it."

She twirled that little flower. "I like your mom. She smells like vanilla."

"She's your mom now, too."

"Yeah." Sis sat there for another minute and smiled, her teeth bright in the darkness. "Cory? Kin I belong to you?"

That didn't sound right. "Like how?"

"Like a girlfrien'."

"You're my sister, Jess. That's better. You can never break up with your sister."

"So, I belong to you?"

I scratched my head. "Well, we can belong to each other."

She sat there looking down and away, like I do when solving long division.

The next day as we watched TV, she reached out and held my hand. She smiled at me and I smiled back. Her eyes didn't look as scared.

That night Jessie came back to my bed.

"I hat a bat dream. Kin I sleep wit you?"

"Um, yeah, I guess." I scooted over and made room. She pulled my arm around her.

"Will you keep me safe?"

"Okay," I said to the back of her head.

"Promise? Always?"

"Yeah, I'll always protect you. I promise."

Next morning Dad set down his coffee and cleared his throat. "Listen, kids, you're not to share a bed."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Only married people are allowed. Stay out of each other's room."

"But that's not fair, Dad," I stuffed cereal into my mouth.

"It doesn't have to be fair. It's a rule, and a serious one. Do you understand?"

I swallowed. "I guess."

"Nothing happened last night, did it?" he asked.

I tilted my head. "Like what?"

"Like anything."

"Um, I don't think so. We were asleep. Maybe we missed it."

Mom's eyes smiled as if I was funny.

"Bad news," she said. "No apples in your lunch today. I forgot to buy any yesterday"

"Aw!"

"So, I packed Twinkies instead."

"Yay! Thank you!" Twinkies were my favorite. "Mom, how old do you have to be to get married?"

My parent's eyes met.

"You need to be a grown-up," Mom said. "Now hurry, you two, or you'll miss the bus."

We bundled up against the January wind and shuffled to the corner holding hands.

"Hey, Jess? Do you want to get married? When we grow up, I mean."

"Of course."

I had to stop and catch my breath until that rollercoaster feeling passed.

After Dad graduated Wayne State, he went back to work as a Deputy Sheriff for Delta County. He said he'd run for Sheriff if old Sanders ever retired. We moved into a big cedar house on County Road 80, north of Escanaba, near where I grew up. This was before the fire. It was just as well that Sissy and I were already best friends, because no other kids lived nearby.

We were still in sixth grade, so we got Ms. Oathmar's class. That's where we met our friends Beth, Jody, and Spaz. Beth was nice. She'd been sick a lot in fifth grade and had to repeat, so she was a year older. Jody was really smart and always had her hand up. Spaz liked to give his answers while standing on a chair. Ms. Oathmar didn't find that as funny as I did.

Next to Sissy, Robert Spaetzerkopff was the person I liked the most on the whole planet. Spaz was six and a half months older than me, a blonde-haired Howdy Doody with wide, bright green eyes. He lived with his mom and three older sisters. He liked train tracks and limestone quarries. There was always a bonfire to build or a stream to dam, and he refused to recognize that he wasn't good at climbing trees. Rough on shoes, scabs, and bikes, he only wore flannel shirts and overalls, to school, to church, and even all summer.

Then there was Janna. She and her younger brother Harrad lived in town. Their dad was Dr. Prakesh, the pharmacist at Drugco. Dad said if Janna was his he'd give her away. She was a whiner, which he couldn't tolerate. Janna was kind of an oddity like Jessie, so we let her eat lunch with us. I wondered if it made Jessie feel less alone to have somebody else around with dark skin.

"I don't know," she said. "I guess it's better then bein' the only one. But I never fitted in. In Detroit, I wasn't never one of the sistahs. They din't protect me. I wish I had nice skin and blonde hair like you and Mom. I'd scrub this dark off with sandpaper."

"Then you wouldn't be so cute, Jess. I like you how you are."

"Really? I don't. I don't wanna be diff'rent. I wanna be real twins."

"Okay. Next summer I'll get a good tan." That made her giggle.

Jessie got teased a lot in school. Some of it was openly ignorant and racist. Mom warned us about that. But a lot of it was the way she talked. What was normal on Cass Avenue sounded wrong in Escanaba. It didn't help that she cursed like it was nothing, even in front of adults.

Mom rented a video tape of _My Fair Lady_. The movie's about a girl who learns to talk differently to fit in with a new bunch of people. Jess picked right up on the idea.

"You gotta teach me that!" she told us.

Sis eagerly learned this new language, and Mom made it into games. Sissy practiced lists of words with "ing" or "er" at the end, and would chant, "Mother, I need some of that nighttime, sniffling sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy-head, fever, so you can rest medicine." She was smart, and worked hard at it. Within weeks she started to imitate the native lilt.

"It must be like learning a foreign language," I told her.

"It's almost a different way of thinking. Like, you guys say thank you a lot."

"You don't think that's normal?"

"But Mom thanks Dad for taking out the garbage, and he thanks her for vacuuming. You thank Mom for fixing your lunch. I mean, you do it every day. Aren't that jus' their jobs?"

"Isn't, not ain't, Sis."

"I forget that one. But doncha ever get tired of it?"

"Not really. I guess it's like saying I love you and appreciate you. I don't get tired of hearing that."

"Oh, I get it," she said. "Then... thanks for explainin' that to me."

She still swore, though. Mom made a list of words Sis shouldn't use, and Jess showed it to me. Wow, I didn't know Mom even knew those words! Some of them I had to ask Jess what they meant.

"Okay, I know the f-word. That's bad, and the n-word is super nasty. Why is count a bad word?"

She looked at me as if exasperated. "That ain't how ya say it."

I looked at it again. "Oh. What is it?"

"It's a mean, worthless girl. I got called it lots. Mom says it means vagina, but that it's wicked."

"Weird. Yeah, I know those. That one means poop. How about this one? Wah-oar?"

"You so dumb. That mean a girl only good for fu–, um," she looked at the ceiling, "for having intercourse with. And ya say it like ho."

"I'm not dumb, so don't call me that. I was just ignorant."

"Sorry," she said. "I'll put dumb on the list, too."

It helped that Mom and Dad talked with us as if we were adults. We'd all do chores together, make supper together, telling the stories of our day. It was fun to get Dad talking, especially after dinner when he'd had a couple drinks. He was funny and could argue both sides of any issue.

When he wasn't at work, Dad would just do what a man normally does, and include us in it. He'd have us help fix things like the leaky faucet or a burned-out headlight. He taught us how to clean the tile floors, how to sew torn clothes, and how to make a bed. Correctly. He said those were the first three things he learned in the Army.

Dad thought exercise was important, so we played outside a lot, even when it was bitter cold. Indoors, we had contests for push-ups and pull-ups. Jessie always won. I had a little asthma, so my lungs gave out before my muscles. Dad taught us the fireman's carry, so Sis and I lugged each other around on our backs. I got to four minutes once before I had to set Jessie down. Then she had to carry me for five, just to prove she was stronger.

Mom enrolled Jessie in karate lessons. It gave her a healthy way to focus and burn off all that emotional energy. She was fast, strong, and balanced. Mom asked if she wanted to join a gymnastics club, too, but she had no interest in that. She was a warrior.

Every Wednesday Mom would take Jessie to a therapist, to help her deal with the stuff that happened at the orphanage. Sis asked if I could go with her, but Mom said no. It didn't matter. Jess told me everything anyway, in vivid detail.

Mom said Jess might try to work out some of that stuff with me physically, and if she did I was supposed to say no and tell Mom about it. I didn't, though. I was curious and didn't want to get Sis in trouble.

"If I didn't do it right," she told me, "or if I cried, they'd hurt me. They said it was my own fault."

"How could you not cry when it hurt?"

"After a while it was like part of me went away, like I wasn't all there." She twirled her flower." Do you love me, Cory?"

"What? Yeah, of course."

She thought for a moment. "Those boys said they loved me."

I shook my head. "They lied."

"I mean, I believed them. I thought that was what it meant."

"Love feels happy, it feels safe. It makes you feel respected. Did they make you feel that way?"

"No, but it's confusing. I kind of liked the attention. It made me feel special."

"You don't have to do that stuff to be special," I told her. "Not with me."

"I know. But I like when you touch me. That feels like love."

"Hug?" I offered.

She wrapped her arms around me. "Uh-huh."

Mom took a picture of us on the couch. At first glance, you just see two twelve-year-olds smiling at each other, me with my skinny lips and little teeth, and her with that wide smile. But if you study it, the expressions look more like an old couple who've loved a lifetime and are content just to be in each other's presence.

That would have made perfect sense to Jessie and me. We had our secret plan to get married. When we played house, Mom said we were adorable. She said we made the perfect couple, just destined for each other.

That was the only thing I ever heard Dad be cross with Mom about. His forehead would gather like a storm cloud, and he'd call Mom Emma. He growled that it was wrong to encourage us, that it could only lead to trouble later.

"But look at them, Mikael," she would say. "Don't you see it? It'll be fine. Trust me." Then they would make smoochie-face and he'd call her Dear, and the argument was over.

As for the fantasy of marrying Jess, I guess it was just a passing phase that never passed.

# Chapter 3

Thinking back, I kind of took Mom for granted. No matter what I did, she'd always forgive me and love me. It was a given. Dad scared me a little. He was the one I wanted to impress.

Dad was a big man, and his soft, deep chuckle came easily back then. If you got in trouble, he'd help you out. If you made trouble, he'd straighten you out. There wasn't a question whether anyone should mess with him. He set clear limits and made sure we knew the rules--and the consequences for breaking them. Those were constant, and strictly enforced. He was willing to negotiate, but once a deal was struck, it was law. There were no excuses and no time off for good behavior.

Dad knew everything, too. It was impossible for me to hide something from him and get away with it. He'd look at me with those piercing gray eyes and raise a bushy eyebrow, and I knew I was caught. Fortunately, it was my nature to be disciplined. It was easier to follow the rules--and petition for changes as needed--than to try to bend or circumvent them. Jessie, on the other hand, broke rules all the time, and didn't seem to care if she got in trouble. Sometimes she got us both in trouble, and I was punished, too. I couldn't stay mad at her, though.

Dad could be strict, but there was never a question of whether he loved us. He loved his family more fiercely than a lion. I learned something about that fierceness during our first winter back in the UP.

I wrote a great story in class, but Ms. Oathmar marked me down for poor penmanship. I was still angry about it before dinner, and when Mom asked me to set the table I swore at her under my breath--a word from Jessie's list--and Dad heard me.

He marched me to my room, shut the door, and knelt on one knee so his face was level with mine, just inches away. He didn't raise his voice. In fact, it was barely above a whisper, but that made it scarier.

"Okay, Son," he said, his voice like distant thunder. "Let me explain this to you, man to man. Do you think I'd hesitate for a moment to die for you?"

I shook my head.

"That's right. I'd die for you, and I'd die for your Mom. I'd kill for her, too." I truly believed that. I nodded meekly.

"You know I was in the Army. What you don't know is that I learned to look a man in the eye and use all my muscle and weight to thrust a nine-inch steel bayonet right through his clothes and into his guts. I learned to twist it sideways and rip it out under his ribs. I was good at it, and I started to like it."

The gentleness of his voice clashed with the violence of the words. There was no doubt in my mind he was physically capable... But he liked it?

"That's why I left the infantry. That part of me was taking over.

"We all--all men--have some of that savage passion in us. I know you do. You and me, we're the bulls of our species, and bulls can be dangerous. We have to respect each other's pride and territory.

"Son," he said, pausing between each word. "Don't, ever, mess, with a man's wife. A man will protect his woman tooth and nail, with a thrust, a twist, and a rip. Understand? That woman in the kitchen is not just your mother. She's my wife. _My wife_ ," he hissed. "Do you get it? Don't disrespect her, and never, ever, harm her. Not with your fists, not with your words."

Then the Dad I knew was back, the fury contained and his arms around me.

"I love you, Son. I don't want to be your enemy--don't make me one. Don't provoke me again. Now go out there and apologize to your Mom. And not some wimpy, sniveling excuse. Stand tall, admit you were out of line, tell her that you won't do it again, and ask for her forgiveness. We'll talk more later."

Judge Franks told me that the job of being a kid was to test and find the limits, and that knowing the limit was security. Dad made sure I was very secure. When Mom died, that glimpse of his violent passion for her helped me understand his barren and ruthless grief.

# Chapter 4

The cedar house was old and weathered silver-gray, with an attached garage off the kitchen. Mom parked her Chevette on the far side, away from the kitchen door. Dad's old Chevy crew cab was too long, so he left it in the driveway. He used the empty garage space to build a workbench with a vice, shelves full of jars of screws, cans of paint, and all his tools hung up on a pegboard. It was really cool, and I was allowed to use it, just not the power tools.

It was a Friday night in March. After dinner, Dad left to drop off some film at the drugstore in town and then visit with his friends. Mom said I could stay up late and work on my boat model, but she and Sissy went to bed upstairs.

I loved sailboats and working with wood. I liked the smell of pine when you cut into it, and the feel of a sanded surface. I dreamed of building real boats someday, and of sailing them on the Great Lakes.

I wasn't supposed to use the kerosene heater, but it was still winter cold in the garage, so I did anyway. When I was done, I carefully swept up the wood shavings and hung the tools back on their pegs. Then I took off my sweatshirt and went inside to use the bathroom. I smelled something like hot plastic, so I washed up quickly and ran back to open the kitchen door.

The work shelves were on fire - the heater! I broke the rule!

I knew what to do. I dug for the extinguisher under the kitchen sink and ran back. I pulled the pin and emptied the container toward the base of the flames. But the extinguisher was too small. It ran out in seconds and the flames spread way too fast. A jar of varnish exploded into shards of glass, spewing a hot orange fireball toward the rafters. The gas can by Dad's snow blower shimmered in the heat.

Thick smoke poured into the kitchen. Wallpaper pealed and burned near the doorway. I should've closed the door, but the knob was too hot. My hands shook so bad it took three tries just to dial nine-one-one.

"Delta County dispatch, what is your emergency, please?"

"Our house is on fire! 55215 County Road Eighty. Hurry!"

"Are you in the house now? Are you alone?"

Am I alone? Jesus. I threw the receiver on the kitchen floor and ran upstairs, hollering for Mom.

Somehow, the fire had already jumped to the second floor. The sooty, acrid smoke scalded my eyes and lungs. Flames in Mom and Dad's room dimly lit the hallway. I flipped the light switch, but nothing happened. I stumbled over Mom and fell onto Sis, who was coughing hard.

I hesitated--I had to choose--then hoisted Sis up in a fireman's carry, just like Dad taught us. My head got giddy and I fell, maybe I passed out. I don't know how long it was. I got back to my feet and got Jessie up again. It was so hot!

"Come on Mom--we have to go!"

She stared at me from the hallway floor.

I had to carry Jess over Mom to reach the stairs.

"I'll be back for you!" I yelled.

But I missed the top step, lost my balance, and we plunged down the stairway. When we hit, Jess's weight across my shoulders dove my face into the living room floor. I was pinned under Sissy's limp body and my left arm wouldn't work--it didn't hurt yet, but a bone was sticking out. My panic tasted like steel.

It took minutes to get untangled. I smelled my hair scorching away. Cinders flew around us, some burning right through my tee-shirt and sweatpants. This was taking way too long. The kitchen was full of flames, and the back of the couch was on fire. When I stood, something white-hot fell on my face and I screamed. The smell of burning flesh fed my terror. I couldn't tell if Jessie was breathing. The edge of her long flannel nightgown was smoking. My lungs were on fire.

The whole room was going to flash over. The front door was our only escape. With a strength I'd never had, I lifted Sis in my right arm and half-dragged her to the door. I set her down and grabbed the doorknob. My palm sizzled, but I held on and pulled hard.

Jessie was in my arm again--I don't remember lifting her. I couldn't feel my hands, only the intense heat on my back and the frosty night air on my branded face.

Outside, a distant siren wailed. I dragged Jess across the porch and we tumbled onto the yard. There was still some snow on the lawn, but the drifts were turning to slush. The wilted grass beneath, chilly and wet, sucked the heat from my flesh. I gasped and choked, desperate for the smoky air.

A truck ground to a halt in our gravel drive, its yellow light dancing crazy circles, pale against the fire's glow. That was fast. Wait, how long had it been? Fifteen seconds? Fifteen minutes? I rolled over to soak my back in the icy slurry. My head swimming, I inhaled as hard as I could, but it wasn't enough. I shivered violently.

Jessie moaned. She's alive. What if she doesn't make it? Where's Mom? The questions slipped away--I couldn't think of anything but the pain.

The siren got louder, closer. A man from the truck ran toward us.

After forever, the ambulance... I was so grateful for the oxygen.

The rest was a blur. Faces hovering over me, Jessie shrieking, the thick taste of burnt skin, the searing pain, the wail of the siren, and my own screaming... Then more hovering heads and Dad's hard face, grim and unreadable... And finally, the dizzy, nauseous decent into nothing.

# Chapter 5

Awareness wove in and out around me. The world blazed in time to my heartbeat, the sheets damp with sweat. A wall clock clicked. A fluorescent light flickered over my bed.

It hurt to inhale. The nauseating stink of perspiration, old coffee, rubbing alcohol, and carts of steaming hospital food seeped into the oxygen mask. I salivated as a wave of nausea threatened to take me. My diaphragm twitched, sending waves of agony through me.

Out of one eye I spied Dad slouched in a chair, a white mask over his face. I could only see his worried forehead and his eyes, sunken and hollow. Behind him was an empty hospital bed, and beyond that, a large window full of glowing red clouds. More fire? No, a sunrise or sunset. What day was it?

My heart stopped as it hit me. The other bed was empty! Where was Jess?

Alarmed, I turned my head to see clearer. My face and shoulder screamed with pain. Dad noticed the movement and sat up.

Overwhelmed by fear and pain, I gasped for air, my body shaking with terror. He stood beside me, his hand on the rail.

No words would form in my mouth. It seemed like days before I finally squeaked out a raspy, "Dad?"

He looked down at me and winced. "I'm here, Son."

"Where's Jessie?" I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the answer.

"Across the hall. She's going to be okay."

My chin trembled, and I choked. Sobs wracked my body, sending waves of searing heat over my flesh. She was alive. Across the hall. Of course. They wouldn't put a girl in the same room with a boy. Dad stroked my damp head with his large, calloused hand. Where was my hair?

"Can I see her?"

He glanced at the door. "Not yet. Maybe in a couple days."

"Days? Is it bad?"

"No, not too bad. She'll be alright."

I didn't really have to ask the next question. I knew from Dad's eyes.

"Mom?"

"I'm sorry, Buddy."

I was a mess. Needles under my skin delivered antibiotics and fluid to replace what seeped from my wounds.

I didn't have any big burns, but there were dozens of smaller ones. Some spots, like my right cheek, were seared right through the skin. The middle of those didn't hurt because the nerves were gone, but the second-degree burns? Each one felt like a twisting bayonet.

Morphine dulled the pain a little, just taking the edge off, and it never lasted long enough. I begged for a bigger dose, but Dr. Lukes said it might suppress my breathing. I watched the clock, praying for the next injection, for relief to flow into my veins. _Hurry, hurry, hurry!_ It hurt the worst those last few minutes before the shot. Sometimes the nurse was late. When that happened, I'd struggle not to cry out. Even after she finally came, it seemed to take an eternity to get back to mere agony.

They couldn't use a cast on my broken left arm because of the blistered skin, so I had this stainless-steel armature thing instead. My right hand was ruined from the doorknob, so I couldn't feed myself. Instead, a tube went up my nose and down into my stomach for food and more liquids. It hurt and made me gag to have it in the back of my throat. Another tube pumped oxygen to my facemask. A catheter drained into a bag of pee hanging off the side of the bed. The pungent smell of dark urine made me want to vomit when they'd empty it out and measure it.

Even sleep was no relief. My dreams... Sometimes Mom was on fire, or just a skeleton, screaming, begging... Other times she'd say it was okay. That was worse, knowing the fire was my fault because I broke a rule. I'd startle awake and the pain made me cry, which hurt even more. Eventually exhaustion sucked me into the next nightmare.

Reverend Adams came to pray over me. I didn't deserve it and pretended to be asleep. When he finished mumbling, he sat down next to Dad.

"How are you holding up, Mikael?"

Seconds ticked by before Dad answered. "Not so good." Another long pause. "I should've been there."

"It's not your fault Mike."

"You're wrong. I was out playing poker for Christ's sake!"

"You were with your friends. You had no way of knowing..."

"But I should have known. I should have been there! I could have..."

"You could have died with Emma and orphaned your kids."

"You don't know that. Maybe I could have saved her. Or at least..."

"What? Died in her place?"

"Yeah. In a heartbeat"

"And left her with the pain of going on without you? Would you really want that?"

The silence was stifling. I ventured a peek. Dad's held his face in his hands.

He sat up. "No. No, of course not. But my God, Fred, it just hurts so deep..."

I didn't want to hear this. The guilt was like a million bugs burrowing into me, tearing my heart out.

"I feel like I'm dying," Dad said.

"Mike, I know you. You're strong. You have to be strong for your children. They need you."

I couldn't bear it anymore. I had to make them stop talking.

"Dad?"

"Look who's up!" He stood at my bed. "How are you feeling? Do you want some ice chips?"

"I..."

"What, Son?"

"The fire..."

His forehead wrinkled. "What about it?"

"I..."

I needed to tell him I was sorry, that I'd been careless, that I burned down our house and left his wife to die. But the shame was too much. I tried, I really did, but I just couldn't say it.

"Um, sure, some ice please."

Every morning the nurse unwrapped the bandage on my face and picked off the dead tissue. I wanted to be brave, but usually ended up screaming with the pain. They'd flush the wound with a saline solution and then pick at it some more. This went on and on and on. And then they'd finally wrap it back up... And start all over on the next burn. Then the next, and the next. There were so many.

But even that wasn't the worst part. I'd hear Jessie crying across the hall as they did the same to her. I'd weep, knowing what she suffered, knowing it was because of what I did.

After the first few days she could visit my room. Her face spoke of terrible pain. Her left calf and ankle were severely burned, and a row of bandages under her hospital gown revealed where each of the plastic nightdress buttons melted onto her skin. Fortunately, the cotton flannel was thick and flame resistant, and mostly protected her. Her beautiful black hair burned within inches of her scalp in places, and they had to cut most of it off.

She'd wheel her pole of intravenous bags into my room and lean her head on Dad's shoulder. The bag of pee hanging off the side of my bed was mortifying, but Jessie made fun of it. After that it was okay between us. Nobody said much, but I liked seeing them near me.

"Daddy? Can we go visit Mom?" she asked.

"She's not here, Bug."

"Where is she?"

Dad pulled his mask down. There was something in his face I'd never seen.

"She died in the fire and went to heaven, Sweetie."

"When will she be back?"

"I'm so sorry, Bug, but she can't come back." He stroked her hair. "She'll wait for us there."

"Oh." Jessie didn't say anything for a long time. Dad held Sis gently, but his eyes were stones.

Tears of sorrow and disgrace cascaded into my ears and down onto my pillowcase.

I was way too sick to be there when they buried Mom's remains, and so lonely. The nurse came late, and I couldn't even wipe my own face. Jessie got to go, but had to come back to the hospital for a few more days.

Sis told me tons of people showed up. She said Dad picked out a white coffin, and before the service he let all the kids paint flowers on it in bright colors. When they were done, Jessie went up and painted a small purple heart on top. Dad painted "A&F" on the side. He said it stood for always and forever. Jessie told me that he ordered a double headstone with a space for him.

Doctor Lukes discharged Jessie after ten days, and she went to stay at Aunt Mel's, up the bay in Gladstone. Aunt Mel was Dad's sister and she always seemed angry about something.

"Doctor?" I asked, "How long until it stops hurting?"

"It'll be better in a few weeks, but the pain won't go away completely for a couple months. You're healing well, and you're going to be fine."

"How long until the scars go away?"

"We've done the best we could to minimize the scarring, but we can't eliminate them. Your burns are serious, and they'll leave permanent marks."

"Even my face?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

At the time, it didn't occur to me what that would be like.

The first day Sis was gone, Dad could hardly sit still. His forehead got that pissed-off look. He finally leaned over me and growled, "Son, if you were in better shape I'd kick your ass. You had no business staying in that house! I could've lost all three of you."

"I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't know what to do."

"So, you decided to be a hero."

How could I answer that? What kind of hero steps over his own mother? The shame was a knife in my heart and I lashed out at him. "Should I have run outside?" I demanded. "Would you?"

Yelling at Dad left me shaken. I didn't mean to do that. He looked uncomfortable.

"Okay, I guess not. Man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, huh?" He looked away and inhaled deeply. "Well, it was an adult decision, and I guess you made the right call. This time. You know the difference between heroism and stupidity?"

I shook my head timidly.

"How it works out. You might not feel like it, but you got lucky. Asshole."

I wouldn't have guessed being called an asshole could make me feel so grown up.

"I need some lunch," he said. It occurred to me that I hadn't seen him eat anything in days. Before he left, he took off his mask and kissed my forehead, carefully avoiding the large bandage under my right eye.

"I love you, asshole," He whispered. Then he almost smiled, and I tried to smile back, but my cheek exploded with pain. He left the door open a crack.

"I'm not a hero," I said to the empty room.

Dad spent as much time as he could at the hospital. He read books to me, adventures by Twain, Stevenson, and Dumas. Some days he brought in homework and tests from school. I appreciated it. The doctor said healing would take weeks, and I didn't want to repeat a grade like Beth had to.

We brightened when Aunt Mel brought Jess to see me. By then visitors didn't have to wear a mask, and I didn't need oxygen. Sis asked Dad if she could have some time to talk with me alone. He said he was tired of sitting and went to have lunch with Aunt Mel.

When they were gone, Jessie shut the door and pulled the curtain closed. An evil grin lit her face. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"Um, okay I guess," I said, "but you first."

She gently pulled off her shirt and threw it on Dad's chair. She kicked off her shoes and slid out of her loose jeans. She stood there in just her underpants, with a row of bandages where the nightdress buttons had been, from her right knee up to her left collarbone. Oh my God, what had I done to her?

"You look like you were hit by a machinegun." I had hoped it would be funny, but it wasn't. "Is there one..." I nodded to the unseen spot still under fabric.

"Oh, yeah." She slid her panties down a little to show a bandage right in the crease of her leg. "That one hurts the most, especially when I walk."

"What happened to your hip?"

"This? That's from my flower. It was in my pocket, but it got too hot. It melted and burned me."

"I'm sorry."

"It was just..." She bit her lip, but then smiled for me. "We'll get new stuff now."

She turned like a fashion model to show off her ankle and leg. "And look at these! They'll be like Grandma Sophie's tattoos," she gushed. "All the tough kids will want 'em." She posed, aloof and serious, but couldn't hold it and broke down sniggering and giggling.

"Okay," I hissed, trying not to laugh. "Quick, get dressed before Dad comes back."

She gingerly replaced her clothes and slid her shoes back on. Her cheeks had a rusty tint to them. "Okay, your turn," she said, but then she stopped. "Um, maybe we shouldn't. This might not be so fun."

We stared at each other for about five heartbeats. I wore a hospital gown, but it wasn't even tied in back, just draped over me like a sheet. She eased it down to my waist.

"Oh, Cory," she breathed. "Oh my God."

With the back of my right hand I sent the gown onto the floor. I didn't care what she saw, pee tube and all. She'd made herself vulnerable to me, and I had nothing to hide from her. My stupid carelessness had done this, and this was my confession.

I could see her counting the bandages with her eyes, up my legs, abdomen, chest, arms... everywhere. Her lower lip quivered, but she bit it to make it stop.

"Which one of yours hurts the most?" she asked.

"Today? Inside my right elbow."

"This one?"

"Yeah, it's bad, and the skin's so tender there. It probably matches that one above your bellybutton."

"From my nightgown...when you carried me."

She bent over me, examining it. She leaned so close that I could smell her shampoo. Her short hair floated across my stomach, tickling. Ever so delicately, she kissed the bandage, and then straightened up. She followed the pee tube with her eyes. It seemed like she was studying my testicles.

"Huh," she said matter-of-factly. "No peach fuzz yet."

Again, she couldn't hold a straight face. Her mouth twisted, and she giggled so hard it shook the bed. I laughed and cried, both from the release of laughter itself and the physical pain it caused.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch!" I complained, but I couldn't stop. Tears streamed down my face, and she could barely keep it together long enough to get the gown back over me. When it was safe, she reopened the curtain.

"Thanks, Sissy, it felt good to laugh. But seriously, are you okay?"

"Not really, but we're all more worried about you." She stroked my head.

"I'll be alright."

"Dad and I are going to look at houses tomorrow. I'll be glad to get away from Aunt Mel. I threw water on her, but she wouldn't melt."

When Dad got back he looked us over with his gray mind-reader gaze, but just shook his head. That was the second time I saw him almost smile.

They fed me only liquids for two weeks before they finally took the nose tube out. I didn't care that it was hospital food or that my cheek burned with every bite. Getting to taste something was heaven.

The downside of solid food, of course, is solid waste. The nurse tried to get me to use a bedpan, but I flatly refused, so they took out the catheter, much to my relief. Just getting to the bathroom took five minutes. Dad would swing the side rails down and I'd limp the few feet from my bed, every step a chorus of hurt.

That would've been bad enough, but the antibiotics gave me the runs. You don't know humiliation until you've needed a nurse to wipe your ass. It was disgusting, beyond horrible. Then they'd ask every time they came in if I'd had a bowel movement yet that day.

One day we were on TV. I recognized the reporter from our local news. He was the one with bad hair, and it was worse in person. The room was crowded: Dad and Sis, a cameraman, the reporter, and a man in a uniform. They kept knocking down the cards from school that Dad taped all over the walls.

I was afraid the uniformed guy was a policeman, there to question me about the heater. A wave of relief washed over me when he introduced himself as the Chief of the Escanaba Fire Department. But then he said he'd come to give me an award for saving Jessie.

"I'm not a hero," I said, "and I don't want your stupid award!"

But Dad said they'd gone to a lot of trouble to set up this broadcast, and that I should just be gracious about it, so I didn't have much choice.

The reporter looked at the camera and said in a happy voice, "I'm Guy McMillan with Channel Three News. I'm here at St. Francis Hospital with Cory Laine, the little boy who saved his sister from a fire, despite having severe burns and a broken arm."

Little boy? Gee, thanks, mister! I was twelve--almost a teenager for God's sake!

He introduced Jessie and Dad, and mentioned I was an A student. Then he said the friendly folks at Ace Hardware had set up a college fund for me. Next, the Chief put the medal around my neck. He went to shake hands, but then saw all the bandages. It was awkward, and I felt bad for him.

"So, Cory, how does it feel to be a real, live hero?" asked Mr. Bad Hair.

I couldn't answer with the truth, that I had started the fire, and then left Mom to burn to death. I shuddered just thinking about it. So, I lied.

"I'm not the hero. Our Mom died getting us to safety--she's the hero. If you don't mind, I'd like to accept this on her bequest, um, for her."

The reporter said in his happy voice. "Isn't that wonderful, folks? A hero, and humble, too."

After that, he said his name, and the station call letters, and mentioned Ace Hardware again. He told the camera operator, "That's a wrap," then they packed up and left.

The Chief stayed around to talk to Dad, something about a report he was writing. That made me nervous. He told me that he was sorry about my Mom. I said it was okay, because I didn't know what else to say. When he left, Dad thanked him.

"You did real well, Son. I'm proud of you," Dad said. I hoped it helped him to think of Mom saving our lives.

For weeks afterward, I fretted about the report. I watched the door for police coming to arrest me for arson and murder. They came for me at night in my dreams.

# Chapter 6

The room at St. Francis held two beds. Mine was closer to the bathroom so I didn't have to walk far. For weeks, they wouldn't put anyone else with me, not until my wounds healed enough that the doctor wasn't worried about infections. After that I had several different roommates. I was almost ready to go home when I met the old man.

They wheeled in his bed at two in the morning, waking me from a light doze. Nurses swished in and out, the last one leaving the light on over his bed and the curtain between us open. I gave up on sleep.

"Hey kit" he said. "Sorry day wake you up, eh?"

He was thin and pale, but his eyes were friendly. His accent was clearly from up north.

"Stan, dats me. You got a name?

"Hi Stan. I'm Cory."

"Youse dat hero kit, yah?"

I sighed. "I'm not a hero. I wish people would stop saying that."

"Yah, no, you cheat Det, I tink. Not youse time yet, kit."

"Why are you here, Stan?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

He shrugged. "M'heart, it gone bad."

"Oh. I hope you get better." I noticed that his lips were a light shade of blue.

"Don't suspect to. Dat ole ticker, it 'bout done."

"Can you get a transplant or something?"

"I tell yah, dis ole guy, I nin'y-five years ole. Be a shame t'waste dat good heart, yah?" He waved his hand. "Put tin a yunker guy. It should make more good use ah dah ting, eh?"

"You mean you're going to die?"

"Yah, sure. Ev'ry ting dat live godda die. Sore youse, but dats long, long time from now. Dis ole guy jess gettin' roun' twit, yah?" He grinned. "Besides, Det all irked up, yah know? I cheated Det so many time, now it feel bad, eh? Stan keep winnin', in Det, it get mad." His grin turned to a full smile. "So mebbie once I let Det win, juss dis one time. Det say dats all it ever axed, eh?"

"How long?"

"Fur eternity, I speck. Oh, yah mean till I goes?" He shrugged again. "A day, mebbie two. Soon enough, sure, eh?"

I hoped he didn't die while I was in the room.

"Dis no place to git no rest, eh? An hour don't go by dis place but people pokin', injectin', or measurin' suptin. No place tah be sick needer. But I like seein' dah cute nurses, huh? Hey kit, you like girls yet?"

"Just one," I admitted. "We're going to get married."

He got a good laugh out of that. "Yah, dat's one good kit, okay. What it like, dis yunk lady you engedged to?"

I thought a moment. "Perfect."

He shook his head. "It ain't perfick, kit. Maybe yah lookin', an' seeing what ain't dare."

"I don't think so, Stan. She's impatient, opinionated, and stubborn. You don't want to get her mad, either. But I love those parts of her, too, even if it makes her a pain sometimes."

"Dat's good, kit. Dat's duh ting bout luff. Dares no pickin' an' choosin'--a man gotta luff da whole packich."

"Yeah." I grinned. "I love the whole package."

"So, dis nice yunk lady a pretty girl?"

I closed my eyes, picturing her. "Very."

"Yah, I becha. It like yah back?"

"Uh huh."

"Dots a good ting, yah? House dis girl's daddy? Poppa like you, too?"

"Um," I hesitated. "That's complicated."

"You know what it mean a guy say dat?" He pointed a pale, boney finger at me. "It mean dat guy, he in big, deep trupple." His smile faded. "Sorry 'boutcher mudder. It hard to loose one yah luff."

"Yeah, thanks."

"Loss the wife twen'y yearse ago an still miss da ol' girl."

"Hey, Stan? My voice's tired. Tell me more about your wife, and I'll just listen for a while, okay?"

He told me about his wife and his kids, all gone now, just a few grandkids. The lilt of his voice was soothing. I didn't care what he talked about, so he just talked. He told me about some of the things he'd done in his life.

Stan flew a reconnaissance plane in France during the Great War, with his best friend Olie as the photographer. One time, Stan was wounded, but managed to land anyway. It was only afterward that he learned Olie had been killed just a few inches away. Since then, Stan had climbed mountains, raised a family, and built houses, but he missed his friend.

"Yah, it gonna be good tah see dat guy again. Olie gonna be mad it me, dough. Promised if it go firs, I learn up its guitar, but I didn't never try. It been in dah clossit all dis time, huh?"

"I'd like to learn guitar someday."

"Dats what ol' Stan says, yah? Someday. Dat sayin's da true stuff, a man only regrets what it never do. Don't be frayed tah do any-tin, an' youse be one happy kit."

# Chapter 7

Dad and Jess found a modest, one story house for us on Eighteenth Street, a few blocks from downtown. Some of the homes in town had dirt cellars, but ours was newer, and had a poured cement basement with indoor stairs. Still, compared to the cedar house it was small and too close to the neighbors. Even the closets were cramped.

When I finally got out of the hospital and saw the place, they'd hung a banner over the front door. It read "Welcome Home, Cory!"

It didn't feel like home, though. We'd lost everything that was familiar. The clothes we wore, the dishes we ate from, every little thing we touched seemed wrong. Dad and Sis had picked out some used appliances and furniture from Saint Vincent's--a couch, a recliner, a kitchen table and three bedframes. The mattresses were new and felt too hard, the new sheets too scratchy.

Dad put up a battery-powered smoke detector in every room. Each of us had a small desk, a wooden chair, and not much else. The walls were so bare, just a few photos in frames. We lost all the pictures that Mom had painted.

We'd lost most of Dad, too. He'd managed to hold himself together while I was in the hospital, but now the grief seemed to suck all the life out of him. I wanted him to say everything would be okay, but it really wasn't okay, and I knew it never would be again.

Mine was the front bedroom, nearest the bath at the end of the hall, because it would be hard for me to get around for a while. Dad ordered a poster like I'd had of Albert Einstein and pinned it up on my wall. He also hung up the hero medal. I moved the desk chair over and stood on it to pull the award down. I shoved it in the back of the desk drawer, so I wouldn't have to look at it.

I shared the desk wall with Jessie's room, which was next up the hall. She painted her room lavender. Dad had the big bedroom past hers, back by the kitchen. That one had its own little bathroom.

Our bathroom included a big mirror over the twin sinks. The first morning in the new place, I gently peeled away the bandage on my face to look at what lay hidden underneath. The wound was huge and grisly, stretching almost from my nose, across the cheekbone, and halfway down to the corner of my mouth.

That's when it hit me. It would never heal smooth. From then on, I'd be the kid with the scar. It would always be the first thing anyone saw and the one thing they remembered about me. It would be there the rest of my life. I could live to a hundred and it would be there every day, reminding me of my guilt and cowardice.

I wanted to smash the mirror with a hammer. I felt nauseous. My insides clenched, and I hurled my breakfast into the sink. Even when there was nothing left inside, I continued to heave.

When his bereavement leave and vacation ran out, Dad still couldn't go back to work. He filed for unemployment. He spent his days in bed and his nights drinking. Sometimes he'd just slump in his chair, staring out the front window. He had nothing left to give. Jess and I were left to fend for ourselves, so we did.

I was too handicapped to attend school, and when Jessie left in the morning, it was like she took the last shred of comfort with her. The sadness and suffocating guilt hung on me like vines. At first, I mostly slept, but eventually had to get up and move so my scars wouldn't stiffen up. There wasn't much I could do for myself, and I really didn't want to bug Dad while he was in such an ugly funk. I read the whole newspaper, even the obituaries, and saw that Stan had died.

My system was used to getting morphine injections, and I missed them a lot. I had pain pills, but they were weaker and didn't kick in as fast. It hurt to lie down. It hurt to sit and to stand. The steel thing on my broken left arm was cold and heavy, always poking me and in the way. I couldn't even scratch my own itches.

Beth's mom took Sis to Shopko and bought me some loose cotton boxers and pajamas. I walked around in slippers like an old man, first around the house, then around the block. That's when I found out we'd moved in next door to Janna. I waived hello by raising my bionic left arm--the right hand was almost as ugly as my face.

On Tuesday and Thursday afternoons Mrs. Loomis came by from the hospital. I was afraid my face might scare her, but she didn't seem to mind. She worked with me on physical therapy and stretching. It was painful, but with Dad in the house, I sure wasn't going to whine about it. She suggested that when I was up to it, I should take up an instrument to build strength and agility.

That first week was so boring and lonely. I spent a lot of time flexing my burned hand open and closed, and chatting with Albert Einstein.

"Al," I told him. "I miss Mom so much. I wish I could just tell Dad I'm sorry, and that somehow that would be enough. But you see how he is. He'd never forgive me." Einstein just stuck his tongue out and leered at me.

Sometimes I'd hear Dad moving around and think it was Mom. Then I'd remember that I killed her. I'd have hideous nightmares. Some nights I'd wake to find Sis sitting on my bed, stroking my head.

I was thrilled when she started bringing home my schoolwork. I had limited use of my hands, but managed to hold a pen, and I could turn pages myself, so I was all set. My handwriting was slow and very messy, but it had never been very neat, anyway.

Fortunately, Jessie's burns were healing, and she could change her own dressings. Most of mine were doing okay, but I needed her help to care for them. I hated being dependent on her and couldn't wait to be free of my limitations.

Jessie did nothing but work. I don't know how she did it all, shopping, cooking, laundry, going to school, homework, changing my dressings, and yes, occasionally wiping my butt.

I couldn't go in the shower yet, so she gave me sponge baths, too. It was embarrassing, but there was no point in being shy. She just helped me strip down and we did what we had to. Like before, she made it bearable, maybe even funny sometimes, and by then it hurt less to laugh. After a while you just get used to stuff like that and it's no big deal. It was just a weird kind of normal.

Even when Sis was tired, though, she kind of glowed. She said she liked feeling so needed. But I knew inside she was still just a sixth grader like me, and I wondered how long she could keep it up.

We clung to each other, both figuratively and literally. At first, we slept alone, and I'd listen to her breathe through the heat vent we shared. But then sometimes she crept in, scared and needing to be held. Eventually we just used my bed. It was against the rules but worth the risk. Dad would be upset if he found out, but he never checked on us.

That physical connection was reassuring. Often, I'd wake from a nightmare to find myself curled around her, strands of her silky hair tickling my face. I'd let my breathing slow until we matched, inhaling and exhaling as one. Sometimes I could even feel our hearts beat together. It wasn't long before sharing my narrow bed with Jessie was normal, too.

Sometimes after school, Spaz came over to hang out. He was happy to visit. His parents were divorcing, and things were pretty bad at home. That, and living with three sisters drove him crazy. We talked or played cards in my room, so we wouldn't disturb Dad. It was hard for me to hold the cards so Spaz couldn't see them, but he did his best not to look.

I worked to recover, to catch up with my classes, and to ease the burden on Jessie. Finally, in late April, I got the pins and rods off my left arm. Moving it around felt great, but it was so stiff and weak! It seemed only half as big around as the right arm.

When all my bandages came off, I could finally take a shower. It felt wonderful at first, but I couldn't reach everywhere with my stiff left arm, and had trouble holding the soap with my stiff right hand. I finally gave up and called for Jessie. I was startled when she just stripped and hopped in to help. It was hilarious until I saw that line of scars again.

I worked every day to get more rotation, more strength, and more grip, and slowly things got easier.

In May I went back to school. By then I could write better than I ever used to. I was very proud of that. We packed our lunches and walked the four blocks to Upper Elementary. I was glad that there was no embarrassing assembly or anything, I just took the empty desk next to Jess.

It felt good to be kind of normal--that's really what I craved. The other kids were all fascinated with my scars and said they were gross. As if I didn't know that. Bobby Fleisher asked if he could touch my cheek, but I said no because it was still healing. I let him run his finger over the long scar on my arm.

"That feels weird," he said.

Janna asked, "So, what was it like being in a fire?"

"Um, hot?"

"Were you scared?"

"Um, yeah, of course..."

"How did it start?"

Jessie saw how uncomfortable I was and came to my rescue.

"Our Mom died in the fire," she said. "We don't like to talk about it."

"Jeez, sorry, girl. I was just asking."

Bjorn had the guts to say to my face what most of them were probably thinking, "You're so messed up, Laine. What a freak." Yeah, I knew that.

At the end of the day I was weak and sore and exhausted--but happy. Jessie said I kind of glowed.

It felt so good being able to take care of myself and help with chores. The new house had gotten dirty, shabby even. It seemed wrong. Mom wouldn't have allowed that. We were twelve and we knew how to do stuff. We made our beds and cleaned the bathroom. It was important.

Mrs. Loomis noticed, and mentioned how nice the place looked. She suggested again that I play an instrument to help increase my strength and range of movement.

"You know, Cory, girls love a guy who can play guitar."

When I asked Dad if I could get a guitar, he snapped, "Do what you want."

I don't know why he was so mad at me, but I took him at his word. I found a used one at St. V's, and asked the clerk if she knew how to tune it. She stared at my face for a second before she answered.

"No, honey, I don't, but he would," she said, pointing at one of the volunteers. His nametag read Joel.

"Hi," I said, suddenly feeling stupid. I probably couldn't manage this yet... "Um, Joel... Can you show me how to tune this?"

"Lemmee see that," he frowned. He peered down the neck and frowned harder. "Don't buy this--it's junk. You play at all?"

I shook my head.

He looked at my hands and arms. Too late, I tucked them behind me. He smiled and held up his right hand, which was missing the end of his ring finger.

"You're cool with me. Tell ya what, dude, I got this old junker classical. It sounds like crap, but nylon strings are easier to learn on. The action's good." Seeing the confused look on my face, he explained, "The strings are close to the frets, so they won't hurt your fingers."

"How much?"

"For you? Twenty bucks, and I'll throw in some lessons."

Lessons--that's what I needed! "Deal."

"I'll bring it in Saturday. Can you be here about one?"

I grinned and nodded. This was cool.

On weekends, we caught up on homework and shopped together. We used Dad's ATM card at the credit union and dragged an old red wagon to Miller's Drug and Market. Things were more expensive there than at the A&P, but that was too far for me to walk.

Miller's had a pharmacy counter where I bought pain pills, and inhalers for my lungs. I was healing well, but still used the pills regularly, even when it didn't hurt that much. Like in the hospital, they didn't make me loopy or anything, but they took the edge off.

When an unemployment check came in, Jessie forged Dad's signature and mailed it to the bank. We also got two big checks from insurance companies and a really big one from a lawyer. Those eventually became our college fund.

Jessie also forged checks to pay the bills, and we got good at balancing the checkbook. Where months before we'd played at being married, now we were no different than an adult couple.

And Dad was our sick child, but all his burns were inside. Canadian whiskey, straight from the bottle, made him quiet. I'd heard it could dull your pain, and figured that's why he used so much. I tried some and couldn't believe how awful it was. I decided I'd stick to the pills for relief.

One Sunday afternoon ladies from church came to the door, wanting to talk to him, but he was busy sleeping. I was going to say he was away, but the big green truck was obviously in the driveway. Jessie said a friend had taken him fishing, which seemed to satisfy them. I caught one of them peeking in our garbage can when they left. After that, we wrapped his empty liquor bottles in newspaper and double-bagged them.

Another day, a college student came to the door while Jess and I ate dinner. He explained that he was Stan's grandson. He looked at the scar on my face and nodded. His dull hazel eyes conveyed resentment, bordering on hostility.

"You must be Cory." He set a small, wooden guitar case on the living room floor. It looked kind of like a coffin. We invited him to join us, but he said he couldn't stay. He told us that before his grandfather died, he'd asked that I be given the old guitar. The young man seemed very disappointed but stepped away from the case anyway.

"Grandpa Stan said you have to promise and learn to play it, so Olie won't be mad at him. I have no idea what that means, but he said you'd understand. He also told me to give you this." He handed me a folded piece of paper. Then he left, without even saying goodbye.

"What does the note say?" Sis asked.

"It says that everything is just stuff. The good stuff outlasts us, and we only take care of it for a while. He hopes I make better use of the guitar than he did."

I named the guitar Olie. I thought that Stan would like that. Olie was small, a Martin oh-eighteen. Martins had been made in Pennsylvania since long before the civil war. Joel said that according to the serial number, this one was built in 1916. Since Stan hadn't played the instrument, it looked brand new.

Olie wasn't flashy or particularly unique looking. In fact, he was very plain, but apparently, he was rare. Joel said if I sold it I could get a grand or more, but I figured he was pulling my leg. It didn't matter. Olie was worth a lot more than that to me. He fit my hands just right and sounded great once we put on new strings.

Joel warned me that the spruce and mahogany were so thin that they could crack in dry air, so I kept Olie under my bed in his case, with a humidifier in the sound hole. I thought of Stan every time I played that old guitar.

# Chapter 8

By the time sixth grade let out, Dad was drinking hard. He'd grown thin and haggard. His eyes looked haunted. He was grouchy and complained a lot. We got tired of being the adults. Eventually our discipline broke down and we went feral.

To escape the gloom of the house, we camped in the woods, sometimes for days on end. We probably looked ridiculous on our bikes, laden down with the tent, sleeping bags and our fishing poles. My backpack held a towel, matches, a swimsuit, a roll of toilet paper, and fistfuls of Twinkies.

And my pills. One time I forgot to bring them. I wasn't worried about the pain--by then it wasn't so bad. By the next day, though, I was really sick. Jess got scared. She rode all the way home and brought them back to me. Within an hour I felt okay again.

We loved the woods. There were thick beds of soft, dry pine needles that sucked away every sound. If we stayed quiet and sat very still, deer would come up close to us.

When the wind died down, black flies and mosquitoes drove us from the trees. We made camp on the dunes above Lake Michigan and Little Bay de Noc. It was private property of course, but wasn't built-up yet.

We talked a lot at first, sharing our fears, memories, and dreams of a life together. I told her my secrets, all except the stuff about the fire. Neither of us really wanted to talk about that, anyway.

Jessie and I played on miles of fine, golden sand. Sometimes we waded in the streams, dark with tannin from the cedar swamps. That's where we discovered the crawdads. Other times we'd fish from blocks of limestone that still bore scars of the last ice age. Once, Jessie caught a salmon that nearly dragged her into the water. Gulls screeched above us as we cooked it over a driftwood fire. We were very careful with the campfires.

Sometimes we'd just sit and listen to the wind whistling through the dune grass and humming in the primeval pines. The longer we stayed out there, the less we spoke. Our eyes would meet, and we just knew what it meant.

When the big lake roared, we'd bodysurf in the fresh, cool breakers. When it was calm we'd skinny-dip, giggling in the moonlight. When it rained, we'd huddle in the tent--or just ignore the weather and keep playing. The eagles, the thunderstorms, the smell of spruce and fir were the treasures of our hearts. This was our birthright, and we took it for granted. Somehow, the big water helped us heal.

At night, we stripped down to our underwear, brushed off as much sand as we could, and zipped our sleeping bags together. We watched the slow progress of satellites across a trillion stars, underlined by the occasional meteorite. She'd fall asleep, and I'd lie awake staring at the face I loved, so unlike any other in the world.

I woke in the dark one night, Jessie's fingers running through my hair.

"Cory?"

"Yeah?"

Her face hovered over me, lit by the moon's reflection on the waves.

"Will you always love me?"

"Yeah, of course," I mumbled. "Why?"

"Will you marry me in your heart, like Mom and Dad?"

Something in her tone made me wide awake.

"You mean for real?"

"Uh-huh."

I knew this was important. It was a big thing she was asking. But I wanted it, too. More than anything.

"Yeah, Jessie, I promise."

She rolled her eyes. "Not like that! You' have to say I do."

"Oh, okay. I do."

"I promise, too. Just like Mom and Dad." She repeated solemnly, "I do."

I shuddered as a pang of something powerful and not entirely pleasant cut through me. She leaned down and giggled, "You may kiss the bride," and laid a big, wet smoochy kiss on my good cheek.

"Yuck!" That just made her giggle harder. I wiped off my face onto my arm.

"Go back to sleep! You're letting cold air in."

She laid back down and softly pressed her lips against mine. It left a ringing in my ears and the sweet, minty taste of toothpaste.

"Would you sing to me, Cory? Like Mom used to?"

"You want her lullaby?"

"Would you?" She rolled over and pulled my arm around her.

"Okay. Close your eyes."

That night I dreamt about a rock that was two miles wide. It was perched on top of a saw-toothed mountain. In my dream, I climbed up and touched it, upsetting the delicate balance. It swayed such a tiny bit, but I knew that nothing could stop it from tilting further back and forth, however slowly. It'd be a long wait to see which side of the mountain that massive weight would come crashing down.

The next morning, I woke to a flaming sunrise and Jess's soft body pressed against me, her head on my shoulder. I gently brushed the ebony hair from her forehead, capturing the moment like a diamond in my heart. Somehow, I knew it'd never be the same between us. I thought the love would tear my heart in two. That feeling never really left me.

# Chapter 9--Tue. Dec. 6

I put aside my essay on marriage laws and followed Jessie to the living room. Dad sat in his recliner.

"Hey guys. Come to discuss my heart condition?" he chuckled grimly. Jessie settled on the couch and I carried a chair in from the dining room.

"So, Bug, are you pro-choice or pro-life?"

"Neither. My premise is that nobody's truly pro-abortion. For the mom it's invasive and painful, and something a lot of women regret. For the doctor it's dangerous--like Doctor Gunn and Doctor Britton? They were killed for doing abortions, and some of the people who worked for them, too."

"So, do you think a fetus is a baby or just a clump of cells?" I asked.

"For the paper, I say it's a person, so its life has intrinsic value--just like the mother. The baby has a very sympathetic role--it's pure and helpless, and can't defend itself."

"Wait," I said. "Are you saying that the baby should get more rights than the mother because it's cute and cuddly? That makes it sound like if I'm pro-life, I'm actually a bleeding heart, uh, conservative?"

Dad winced and groaned. "Hush, Cory. Go on, Bug."

"I'm saying that mother and child both have intrinsic value and rights, but the law's based on whose rights come first. That's when I thought of kidney transplants. I think there's a real parallel. First, donating a kidney's a life or death decision, and about as life-altering and dangerous as giving birth.

"If my sister needed a kidney and I was the only viable donor, I'd want to give her one of mine. But what if I had diabetes or hemophilia, and the procedure wasn't safe? What if I simply didn't like my sister? Legally, should one person be forced to keep another alive at the risk of their own health? Just as she has a right to live, wouldn't I have an equal right to refuse? Should anyone but me--especially the government--have a say in either decision?"

Dad leaned on his elbows. "Well, that's a unique angle, one I haven't heard. You'll get some extremely negative reactions."

Jessie shrugged. That never stopped her before. "I ran it past Beth's mom."

Beth Johansen was Sis's best friend, and Beth's mom was Jessie's chosen surrogate for girl stuff. Georgia would drive Jess and Beth out to Shopko or Sears for underwear and things like that. I appreciated what Georgia did for Jessie, but I couldn't stand to be around her. She was super religious, which would've been fine, but so judgmental. Worse, she attributed the things she said to God's law. To me, that seemed beyond arrogant.

"She's a devout Catholic," Jess said, "and the most anti-abortion person I know."

That was true. Georgia was a very fervent believer. We'd been to Mass with her many times, and even knew the priests, old Father John and young Father Neil. We were Lutheran, but Dad didn't mind us going. He said that Martin Luther had been an excellent Catholic.

"Anyway, she liked that I agreed with her about a fetus being a baby, and that it has rights. She still didn't agree that the mother's rights should come first, of course, but I didn't expect her to. That's all I want the paper to do, is to make people think, instead of just react."

"Let me see if I can challenge you on this, Sis."

"Please, go right ahead." Jess grinned. She loved a good debate.

"If you intervene by donating a kidney," I said, "you save a life, but if you intervene with an abortion, you end a life."

"That's too simplistic. The kidney donor could die of complications. The mother could die in childbirth. And there's no guarantee that the kidney wouldn't be rejected, or that the baby would come to full term. It's a judgment call, and I'm just saying that no one else should make that judgment call for you. What else have you got?"

"Okay, but you'll admit that nine months of pregnancy is a small thing when compared to giving your baby a whole lifetime."

She pursed her lips, but then nodded. "You may be right--one may be worth more than the other. The question is how do you measure it? Let's get specific. How much money is each of those things worth?"

"A million dollars?" I suggested.

"For giving birth?" She tilted her head and looked up, as if considering the amount. "Okay, a lot of people would do it. Some might hold out for two million, though, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Or a hundred million. But there'd still be people who wouldn't give birth for a hundred billion bazillion dollars, true?"

Sensing the trap, I retorted, "You'd be one of them." It came out harsher than I meant it to.

"That's right. She said. "You can't buy me. I'm not property, and neither is anyone else."

"Okay, I get it. You can't put a price tag on something like that, so there's no way to compare." But something else occurred to me. "Wait a minute, you're going to turn this in to Mr. Palmer?"

"Duh, he's our Current Events teacher."

"Last year--didn't he get a kidney transplant from his brother?" I asked.

"Um, yeah, I've heard that," Jess admitted.

I tilted my head, looking at her crooked.

"Hmmm. He's Catholic, too. I've seen him at Mass."

Dad frowned. "It sounds like a good paper, but I hope you didn't pick that subject just for him. Are you planning on a good grade because otherwise he'll look defensive? You know I wouldn't approve of that."

"Actually, I think he'll like it. He thinks that China's a threat to us because it has too many people, but he still gave me an A-minus for my paper on world hunger."

"Okay, well, I'll be interested to read it when you're done," Dad said.

Later, I stopped by Jessie's room.

"What do you really think about it, Sis? Abortion, I mean."

"I think it should be a legal right that nobody ever needs to exercise."

"Would you ever have one?"

I expected a quick reply, but she contemplated the question.

"I want to be a mom someday, and I know I'd never want to do that--I'd never even want to make the decision, much less act on it," she said. "But honestly, I'm not so sure. I think that sometimes... Sometimes we do what we have to, even when it breaks our heart."

"Even have an abortion?"

"Um, yeah, even that."

# Chapter 10--Wed. Dec. 7

In the small hours of Wednesday morning I lay awake, thinking about Amanda and how awful her life must have been. Like what Jess had suffered, but for year after year. I thought about Jessie and how close I had come to being caught that evening. I'd been reckless. There was too much at stake.

How I hated Mom for encouraging this futile love for my sister. She was the one who said we were destined for each other. What would Dad think if he knew how I ached for Jessie? I thought about how his tremors seemed worse. The window shutters seemed jittery, too.

The wind whistled through the icicles hanging outside my room. The mechanical click of my clock-radio seemed too loud, and out of time with Dad snoring down the hall. If I listened closely and the furnace wasn't running, I could hear Jessie's soft breathing. I imagined her in my bed like when we were kids, holding her body warm and tight against mine.

I woke up groggy, knocking the alarm clock off my nightstand. When had I finally dozed off? About two minutes ago, judging by how I felt. That same nightmare again, the one that never went away. Mom's charred face, screaming. No wonder my brain never wanted to sleep.

I could see through the icicles that there were still stars in the sky. The winter sun wouldn't rise for a couple hours yet. A clear sky meant it'd be cold this morning. I rubbed my face and turned on the desk light. Underneath, my homework sat in a neat pile--with an essay on marriage laws on top. Another day of high school to endure, another day of empty longing.

I stumbled to the bathroom. My bare feet stuck to the frigid ceramic tile, and my private parts retreated into my abdomen as far as they could. I turned on the shower and peed while I waited for the water to get warm. The mirror over the sinks showed a scrawny, pale fifteen-year-old. The tan and muscles of last summer were long gone. So many scars. No need for a mirror. I knew I was ugly.

The water in the UP held lots of minerals, which hardened and clogged the showerhead, slowing it to a trickle. Not like it was before. I should put it on the repair list.

A weak cloud of steam clung to the bathroom window and crystallized. That meant it was in the single digits outside, not even counting the wind-chill. I cleaned up robotically, making it back to my room just as Jessie's alarm went off. I heard her hop out of bed.

Closing my door, I took off the towel and shivered. I tried hard not to think of her dark, naked body in the shower, but that never worked. I shivered again.

The high school building varied widely in temperature--old boilers I suppose. You had to dress in layers to stay comfortable. I put on jeans, a tee shirt, a flannel shirt, and a sweater. Finally, warm again, I made the bed tightly like Dad had taught us, and filled up my backpack with books and papers.

Down the hall, Dad's door was open. Everything was squared away as usual. I found him in the kitchen, drinking coffee. His hands trembled a little as he lifted the mug.

Greif had not been kind to Dad. Sitting at the table that morning, he looked much older than forty-one. He was graying and so thin. Other than taking care of us, working, and attending his AA meetings, he didn't have much of a life. He looked tired, more so lately--it seemed like he lived on coffee. Well, he did have a long commute, and I was sure his days were often stressful.

I figured he was unhappy with his job. He never complained, but he didn't like the hours, and leaving us alone so much. I imagined it was a letdown to work as a dispatcher after being in an MP and then a Deputy Sherriff. Like he said, everybody's carrying a burden you can't see.

Wednesday was a day off for him, but it didn't matter. At five-thirty he'd have that old aluminum percolator bubbling on the avocado green gas stove. The hiss of the flame, the random gurgle of coffee, and rattle of the glass top was the music of morning in our house. Whether it was in the big can or boiling on the stove, coffee smelled good to me. It was a shame the stuff tasted so dreadful. His French toast, however, was always a treat.

"G'mornin', Son. Trouble sleeping again?"

I just shrugged and changed the subject. "It's going to be cold today." I added the showerhead to the repair list taped to the refrigerator door.

"Not for long. The radio said a warm front's moving in--mid-twenties by lunchtime--and bringing about eight inches with it." That was good news in town. Snow brought downstate snowmobilers, and snowmobilers brought money to spend.

Jessie appeared from the hallway.

"Good morning, Daddy. Just think! One more week and I can get my level-two license!"

Her countdown had been going on for months and had gone from a weekly to a daily routine. Sis and I had all the requirements. As soon as we turned sixteen we could drive alone, with one friend, or with family members.

In practical terms, it was a moot point. Dad used the old long-bed for commuting, so we didn't have access to it Friday through Monday. The thing that was so enticing was just the idea that we could use the truck sometime without supervision.

"One more time, are you sure you don't want a sweet sixteen party, Bug?"

"I told you Dad. Yuck. I'm not into it, okay? We could buy me a car, though..."

"We could, huh?" He sipped his coffee.

"Sure, just take a little out of our college fund."

"Or you could get a job at Miller's. I'm sure they'd let you work a few hours a week."

Jess smirked, dismissing that solution.

After breakfast, we said goodbye and hoisted our backpacks.

We huddled together waiting for the school bus, Janna, Harrad, Jessie, and me. Our breath came out in clouds but was immediately snatched away by frigid gusts. The wind-chill was well below zero. A bright crescent moon cast our shadows into the street, and dry snow crunched and scrunched under our boots as we hurried to get on the bus.

Spaz sat with another guy from the hockey team. Harrad and Janna shared a seat across the aisle and squabbled with each other. Sis took the seat next to Jody, who got on at an earlier stop, and I slid in behind them.

Jody was an appealing girl with a wicked intellect. She was in my biology class. She was also in the drama club with Spaz. He kind of liked her, but was intimidated, too. I thought Jody was nice, and she liked me. If circumstances were different, if I was a normal person and not so messed up...

Don't get me wrong, Jessie was smart, too, but she preferred the easier classes. She was more inclined to socialize with her friends than to study, and she still got good grades. Dad tried to convince her to work harder, but she was as stubborn as him.

"What are you doing your book report on?" Jody asked her.

" _Lolita_."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, why?"

"Isn't that a really dirty book?" Jody whispered.

"It has a lot of sex in it, if that's what you mean."

"Yeah, an old guy falls in love with a teenager, right?"

"Well, he's obsessed with his stepdaughter," Jess said.

"Oh my God! They're related? That's so gross!"

"But no, he has no clue about love."

"What do you mean?" Jody asked.

"He doesn't care about her as a person."

The buss hit a pothole, jostling the riders.

"Sounds totally vomitatious. Old Jenkins won't give you a good grade on anything like that."

"She was talking about the unreliable narrator," Jessie said, "I think it's a great example."

"Whatever. I'm doing mine on _Wuthering Heights_."

"That's a good one." Jessie said with a smile in her voice.

At the next stop Bjorn slid in behind me and sneered, "Hey, Laine, why don't you ride the freak bus?" He kicked the back of my seat for the rest of the trip. Three more stops. The ride was loud, rough, and mercifully short. We piled out of the folding doors and into the school.

There were almost a thousand kids in our high school--not just from the city, but from all the smaller towns nearby, too. That sounds like a lot, but almost everybody seemed to know everybody else, or at least their brothers and sisters. The minutes before the first bell were crowded, as we each stuffed a coat in our locker and organized the day's work.

Wearing my boots all day was too hot, so I kept a pair of sneakers in my locker. Lisa came up to me as I sat on the hallway floor putting them on. She was tall and busty, and liked to flirt and play mind games with guys. She stood there chewing gum with her mouth open, waiting for me to say hello first. Finally, she gave in and said, "Hey, Cory. Who ya gonna take to the Snowball?"

I didn't want to be mean, but I didn't want to play her game, either. "Lisa, you know I don't dance."

She gave a little pout and tried again. "I could teach you," she teased with a little wiggle. "Like after school?"

Some guys liked girls who flirted. I wasn't sure if it just wasn't my thing, or if resisting Jess made this so easy by comparison. It was hard not to stare at her mouth as she chewed--she looked like a cow. I felt bad for her, embarrassed.

"That's a generous offer, but maybe next year, okay?" Her little sneer turned to a big cheesy smile as she spotted another target, and she walked away without further pleasantries.

Jessie and I were in the same first-hour class. In Upper Elementary we'd sit next to each other whenever we could. But ever since the shower incident I sat in the back, where it was unlikely I'd see her face. My heartbeat got fast and my mind went blank when that happened, which made studying a real challenge.

American History was boring. Not the subject, just the velocity. Ms. Kelly was a nice lady and tried hard to deliver the lessons in an engaging way. But it was a required class for all students and had no accelerated version. So, we proceeded at a snail's pace to keep the slower kids from failing. By the end of the hour I was exhausted and restless.

Current Issues was usually a junior-level class, but Jessie and I had approval. Spaz came in five minutes late, as usual. Mr. Palmer didn't lecture much. He loved to get a good discussion going. He especially liked when a student challenged him. He'd taught Social studies in seventh grade, and we were happy to have him again.

He gave us the first half hour to finish up our essays and said that we'd each have to read our paper in front of the class the following day. I dreaded that--everyone staring at me. Then he had us pair up and practice reading them out loud. Spaz hadn't started his and talked about Shakespeare instead.

Spaz was sharing my sandwiches with me at lunch hour when Jody walked by and smiled at us. Spaz followed her with his eyes as she joined the other girls a few tables away.

Bjorn and his lackeys passed behind me, and he elbowed my shoulder. Big stupid hockey player--a bully who had already been suspended for three days.

"Oh, so sorry--Scarface." The Al Pacino film had premiered the previous week, but the local theater wouldn't play it. Probably too much swearing.

"That's okay, you can't help being clumsy." Someone in his posse chuckled and Bjorn shot him an angry glance.

"I heard you bagged your daddy's limit for him again this year." He shook his hand as if he had Parkinson's.

"How many kills did you get?" I asked.

"I also heard you sewed a pretty dress for your sister." Some other kids had turned to witness the exchange. He leered at his companions. "Too bad she's too dyke to wear it."

There was a low "Odoo!" from the onlookers. Some probably expected we'd come to blows over that remark.

"I'll tell her you said so." I knew he was far more afraid of Jessie than of me. The small crowd stirred, sensing blood.

"Laine, I'm going to mess up the rest of that ugly face," he seethed.

My heart was pounding in my ears as I stood up to face him. "Go ahead--take your best shot. Right here in front of everybody."

He balled his hand into a fist but hesitated. "No way--you're not gonna get me expelled," he sputtered.

"That's what I thought."

"C'mon guys," he jerked his head. "Let's cruise."

"Sorry, Cory," Spaz said as I sat down. "I should have told him to fuck off."

"Thanks, Ron, but I can fight my own battles."

"Two and a half more years, Cory. We'll be out of here, adults, and never have to deal with people like him ever again."

The afternoon minutes crawled. Pre-Calc and Physics kept my brain busy. I noticed that the snow had just started to fall, cold snow, light and powdery.

When the final bell finally rang, I stopped by Mr. Harding's office, but the principal wasn't in.

Outside, the morning's wind and chill had disappeared, and the snow fell straight down, thick and heavy, at least two inches already.

# Chapter 11

Our summer alone on the beach drifted past. By late July, we were pretty well recovered, at least physically. I was freckled and actually a little tan. Jessie had darkened to a nice nut brown, and our scars had softened to various shades of pink. After a damp two-night outing, we broke camp and rode our bikes back to the house. We needed to wash our clothes and restock our food supplies.

Right away, we knew something was up. The lawn was mowed, Dad's truck was gone, and I momentarily wondered if he had moved away without us.

But our furniture was still inside. There was fresh fruit in the kitchen and pop in the fridge. No whiskey bottles stood on Dad's nightstand, and the trash cans were empty. The beds had clean sheets, though they weren't made to Dad's military standards.

While Jessie showered, I unpacked the funky clothes and the sleeping bags downstairs.

"It's amazing how much crud one body can carry," Sis laughed when she came out.

Still wrapped in a towel, Jessie made us some scrambled eggs, while I took my turn in the shower. Where my shorts blocked the sun, my skin was still white as bone. And she was right, there was an awful lot of sand and dirt.

A warm, muggy breeze ghosted through the kitchen window as we ate our lunch and tried to figure out what was going on. We read each other's faces.

Jessie's look said she was scared. "Maybe Aunt Mel had him kidnapped," she tried to joke.

"More likely the women from the church," I grinned. My eyes told her not to worry, but her face didn't believe me.

"It's not funny, Cory, what could've happened, really?"

"Don't have a clue, but we should stay home tonight in case he comes back." Then I realized I'd said aloud that he might not return. "I mean, in case he comes back late." Her eyes weren't fooled by that.

I was folding clothes from the drier when I heard Dad's truck pull in. I bounded up the stairs, almost crashing into Jessie at the back door.

"Dad?"

But it wasn't Dad. A heavyset, older man with suspenders and a walrus mustache was getting out of a rental car from the airport. A thin, white-haired woman was emerging from the far side. They didn't look like social workers from Child Protective Services, but my adrenalin was pumping anyway. Whoever they were, this wasn't good.

"See, Maw? Told yah they'd be back." His voice sounded vaguely familiar.

"A few days late," she said. "We were worried about you two."

He shut the car door and winked. "Maw was worried. I told her yah knew how ta take care of yerselves."

The woman pursed her lips. "Well, don't be rude, you old fart. Introduce yourself before they run us off."

A kind, slightly weary smile appeared under the mustache. I noticed that he remained standing by the car and hadn't taken a step toward us.

"Judge Daniel Franks, retired, at your service."

I remembered the name--he was a friend of Dad's from the Army, like Father John at St. Ann's. We'd talked to him on the phone a few times, but never met. He lived out in Denver or somewhere. What was he doing here, and where was Dad? I felt Jessie's hand slip into mine.

"If you're who you say, prove it," she challenged.

"You're Jessie. Your Dad warned me that you'd be... careful." He scratched the side if his face as if stumped, but his smile widened a little. "Let's see... Proof... Well, I think the last time we talked was when I called to say happy birthday to both of you. You're good at karate but wouldn't be caught dead in a cheerleader outfit. You love French toast and despise oatmeal. Oh, and only your Dad gets to call you Bug, and even then, not in front of your friends."

We exchanged a look that meant he was legit.

"Where's Dad? Is he okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, he's okay. If you'll humor me with some coffee, I'll explain."

Jessie and I looked at each other and silently agreed that it was alright.

While the percolator bubbled on the stove, we settled into the living room. The Judge and Maw took the sofa. Jessie took Dad's chair, and I stood beside her so I'd be dominant. Dad said that was part of establishing the power in a relationship.

As if reading my mind, the Judge said, "Have a seat, kid. You're not in charge right now."

The weight of his presence was reassuring, and I was relieved to sit on the floor in front of Jessie.

"He's an imperious old bag of dirty socks," the lady apologized, "but he's harmless. Since he's forgotten his manners, I'll introduce myself. Please call me Grace. You go by Cory and Jessie, right?"

We nodded. Grace turned to the Judge and said, "Well?"

He hrumfed, then conceded, "You kids can call me... Daniel." Grace looked surprised and pleased.

"Okay kids, here's the situation," he began. "Your Dad's in rehab. He needs a few weeks to git the liquor out of his system, and to rethink his priorities."

Jess and I exchanged a look and agreed that it was a good step. I spoke for us. "We're glad. He needs help, and we couldn't..."

"Wasn't your job, kid. You two done just fine."

"Well, I want to talk to him." Jessie said.

"They won't let you get calls while you're in rehab."

She looked to me for confirmation. I nodded--it seemed plausible.

"Yer dad suggested that ya could go live with your Aunt Mel for a while..."

I felt Jessie grip my shoulder from behind. This was very bad news. I'd rather chew barbed wire than stay with her.

"But I've met your Aunt Mel," he continued, "...and I think she's a..."

"Paw! Watch your words," Grace said.

"...a fine woman," he continued, "but perhaps an inappropriate choice for the job," He patted Grace's knee reassuringly.

"So where does that leave us?" I asked.

"Well, here's the thing, Miss. I'm short a cupla hands this summer and could really use some help. If you kids wouldn't mind pitchin' in with the chores, you're welcome to come out visit me and the missus for a while."

I frowned. "You want us to go out to Denver with you?"

"Denver?" he scoffed. "Denver's for city folk, kid. But yeah, come out to the sea bar sea."

That made no sense to me. "The what?"

"C-Bar-C. It's the name of the ranch. Up by Steamboat Springs."

"And if we refuse?" Jessie asked.

Daniel shrugged. "Like I said, there's always your Aunt Mel's place."

"We've been just fine on our own," Sis said. "We don't need a babysitter."

The Judge seemed to consider that. "I agree, Jessie, you don't. You've proved to be mature and mighty resourceful." I felt her relax a little behind me. "If it was jus' upta me," he went on, "I'd tell ya to keep up the good work and I'd get outa your hair."

"But?" she demanded.

"But for your Daddy's sake, you need to at least pretend ya have some supervision, or he could be in a boatload o'trouble."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Some folk might think he's been... Neglectful." He paused for the full effect of that word to sink in. "That's a serious charge against a parent."

And with that, I felt our independence slip through my fingers. We were just kids again and had no choice. I looked back at Jess, who gripped the recliner's arms, ready to sprint. She wanted to fight it, but we were trapped. I swallowed hard. Maybe I could make this easier.

"For what it's worth," I told her, "I think it might be fun." I turned ton to Daniel, "You've got horses, right?"

"Yep, we board a few for the rodeo in town, and we've got a couple of our own that're fit for riding."

"You'll teach us how to ride?" Jessie asked.

"Yes, Jessie," Grace said, "As a matter of fact, it's kinda required at our spread."

Jessie looked at me to confirm it, pouting.

"Okay, I guess. Deal."

"Good, that's settled," Daniel said. "Now somebody get me some black coffee before I die of thirst."

Grace made us a nice dinner. It was weird having normal food, but it tasted good. After supper, Jess and I put the sleeping bags in the drier and hung the tent in the basement to air out.

"Daniel said we can fly out tomorrow morning." I told her.

"I don't like the idea of them sleeping in Dad's bed," she said.

"They aren't going to. They've been staying at the Breakers, and I told them we'd be fine tonight."

She frowned. "And they said okay? Really?"

"Really. They seem alright."

She glanced at the basement stairs. "Maybe we should run while we can."

"I promised we wouldn't. If it gets out what we've been doing, CPS could charge Dad with abandonment. I don't like it either, but they're right. We have to at least pretend to be supervised."

Her shoulders slumped. "It's not fair. I wish we were adults now."

"Me too, Jess. We're not even teenagers, but we're more responsible than a lot of so-called grown-ups."

"I'm going to miss..." Her eyes spoke volumes.

"Yeah, me too. I'm glad we get one last night alone, just you and me."

"They probably won't let us sleep together anymore, huh?"

Just what I was thinking. "No, probably not. That'll be weird."

"Everything will be weird, Cory."

"I think it's going to be okay, Sis. I get a good feeling about Daniel. I like that he knew not to sit in Dad's chair."

"You noticed that, too, huh?"

After the Franks left for the motel, we brushed our teeth and got ready for bed. The fresh sheets felt soft, smooth against my clean skin. They smelled like bleach.

I lifted the quilt and Jess slid in next to me, wearing just her panties, as usual. When I switched off the lamp on the nightstand and turned back, Jessie was still sitting up, looking at me.

"What?"

She didn't say anything, but reached her hand around the back of my neck. Then she leaned in and kissed me, right on the lips! It was soft and tasted like toothpaste. She didn't release me right away, but just smiled and stared into my eyes. I didn't know what to make of it, but it was kind of enjoyable, so I smiled back.

She let go and lay down on her back. "I've wanted to do that for..." but decided not to say how long.

"Cool," I said. "That was nice."

"Yeah. I thought this might be my last chance for a while."

I slid down and pulled up the blanket. Normally this was when she'd turn away and I'd curl up around her. But tonight, she stayed facing me. We looked at each other across the pillows. She reached for me and we held each other close. It was a lot different from spooning.

"D'ya want to try it again?" she whispered.

"Try what?"

"Kissing."

"Okay."

So, we did, and it was even better. Minutes slipped by as our lips embraced each other. We didn't know what we were doing, but it didn't matter. Our noses bumped. I brushed the hair from her face. My heart was beating hard, as if I'd been running.

"Cory..." she started, her voice uneasy.

"What is it?"

"I want to... I want... More."

"You mean... Again?"

"No... More," she said.

I felt her clean, dark skin against mine and my stomach fluttered. Her hand trembled a little when she rested it on my hip. My cotton boxers suddenly seemed so thin.

"Like what?" I asked.

"That's just it. I don't know what, exactly. Just more."

My heart was beating even faster. "Um, yeah, me, too."

"Like maybe we could take our underpants off?"

My body was excited, and I shuddered.

"You mean...?"

"I think it would be different with you," she whispered.

I pictured the things she'd told me about the orphanage... There was an urgency inside me I had never known, something visceral and terrifying. I wanted to give in. I wanted to grab her hard and--

"Sissy, I'm too scared."

"Why?"

"I think right now I could hurt you. I think it would make you afraid of me."

She frowned. "Afraid of you?"

"It could ruin everything," I said. I reached to touch her but my hand was shaking.

"You really think so?"

"Yeah. I do. Even kissing could be..."

"What?" She searched my eyes.

I wasn't sure what it might be, so I said, "Dangerous."

"Are you sure? I think it would be nice."

"No, I'm sure."

She buried her face in my neck as my heart pumped every vein to overflowing. We lay like that for a few minutes, flushed and aching for more.

She sighed. "Alright, but can we be dangerous again?"

"Okay, but then you have to turn around."

"Deal."

This kiss was deep and hungry, lingering, neither of us wanting it to end. But it did, and as promised, she rolled over, pulling my arm tight around her.

Just like usual, I whispered, "Goodnight, Jess, I love you." She didn't reply, but I heard her smile.

# Chapter 12

Morning light fell on my shoulder, illuminating Jessie's sweet face.

The doorbell rang again. I was confused. The Franks! I slid out of bed and pulled on my jeans.

When I got to the door, Grace said, "Good morning, Cory. Looks like we woke you up."

"Yeah, sorry for the wait. We usually sleep late between camping trips."

I motioned them in, and shut the door loudly, hoping to wake Jess.

Grace carried a bag of groceries to the kitchen, and Daniel held up a pair of empty duffle bags. He handed me the green one saying, "G'mornin' kid. Here, go pack yourself some duds."

"Uh, okay--what'll I need?"

"Enough for a week or two--nuthin' fancy. Socks, unders, jeans, and some shirts you don't mind gettin' dirty." He held up the other bag, which was a pinky shade of purple. "I thought your sister might like this color. Kinda matches her room."

He headed down the hall--I guess to give it to her. Too late, I realized that she was still asleep in my bed, and that things might look wrong to him. What if he told Dad? I stood there frozen, not knowing what to say or do.

He reappeared a minute later, and I started yammering, "Uh, Judge Franks, I uh, I mean..."

He held one finger to his lips, nodding toward the kitchen, so I shut up.

"You know," he said matter-of-factly, "my brother and I used to swap beds like that. We're twins, too, but it was funnier for us because we're identical." Then, without missing a beat, "Maw? What's fer breakfast?"

I felt nervous and excited packing my clothes, toiletries, and pills. I decided to take the classical guitar I bought from Joel – Olie was too fragile. Jess and I dragged our feet leaving the house, getting it ready to be empty for a few weeks, so it was nearly eleven when we pulled into the Esky airport.

"It's 'bout six hours flyin' time," Daniel warned. "We'll take a rest stop in Sioux Falls, but that's still three hours between outhouses, so I don't recommend any heavy drinkin'."

Once we returned the car, we all used the restrooms. Out on the tarmac Daniel introduced us.

"Kids, this is Lester."

"Atcher service," Lester said. "Y'muss be Cory and Jessie, though I s'pose it could be t'other way 'round."

"Hi Lester," I said. "Cool plane--what kind is it?"

"Piper Seneca Three. Bran' new," he bragged.

"We've never flown before," Sis told him.

"Nothing to it, missy." He swung open a long door behind the left wing. There were four big seats facing each other. He helped Jessie climb up the step and she scooted in to leave me the other back seat. Grace got in behind me and took the one facing Jessie, and Daniel filled up the one facing me. It was a compact space, but not cramped.

Lester opened a smaller door behind us and loaded the luggage, then strapped it down with the cheap guitar on top.

"All set?" he asked, and then latched us in. He walked around to the right-hand side where the front door was and slid in behind the big control panel. Grace showed us how to fasten the seatbelts as the twin motors whined to life.

The noise rose to a growl as we taxied to the runway. I could hear Lester talking to the control tower, but I couldn't make out the words. I felt him release the brakes as the engines rose to a roar. We rolled forward, faster and faster until I was pressed into the back of my seat. We lifted, and the tires went silent. I could feel the gear as it tucked up inside the plane.

Out the window, houses grew smaller as we set out down the lakeshore toward Wisconsin. I saw what must have been an empty limestone freighter heading east toward the quarry at Gulliver. It looked like a bathtub toy.

All that water... Rats, I thought, now I'll want to pee again.

# Chapter 13

Daniel's truck came to the end of the long, winding driveway. I immediately picked up the reek of animal excrement. Jessie looked like she might puke.

A tall, lanky guy silently took bags from the truck bed. Daniel introduced him as Paul. I noticed that he left my green duffle bag in the truck bed.

The air was thin and dry, and I found myself panting as we mounted the porch. Another man--short with wiry hair--poked his head out the front door. He wore a stained apron. "Welcome home Miz Franks, Judge. C'mon in, kids. I got supper almos' ready."

We trooped beneath the beams of the living room and then under the loft, where a simple wooden table was spread. There was a big loaf of bread, steaming piles of corn, and whole head of cauliflower smothered in cheese sauce. The man in the apron--James--reappeared from the kitchen with an enormous skillet of burger-n-beans. Paul joined us and we all sat down.

Daniel said grace, with a special addition for the safe trip and new crew members. There was little talking--the men shoveled down the food as politely as they could manage. Amazed at the sheer quantity, I asked Paul, "Do you guys always eat like this?"

He shook his head. "No sir. Tastes much better when Miz Franks cooks."

His face gave no hint if he was being funny or just misunderstood me. I looked at Daniel. A grin was partially hidden under that bushy mustache.

"So, she doesn't try to starve you like James does?" I asked.

Everyone was watching Paul, as is they'd never heard him speak two sentences in a row. He looked at me kind of funny, like he was seeing me for the first time.

"No sir, she's generous to a fault," he drawled. "But you look like a dried-out twig. What you been eatin', boy?"

"Fish and Twinkies."

It caught him taking a bite of beans and he almost choked. His face went crimson and he dropped the forkful in his lap, rocking back so far, I just knew he was going end up on the floor. He roared with delight, as if that was the funniest thing ever said.

And then there was pie.

Afterward, Daniel lit his pipe and rocked with Grace on the front porch. I waddled out to the truck for my bag, and then dragged myself to the bunkhouse.

"Newbies go on top," Paul droned.

I dropped the duffle at the bottom of the ladder and didn't bother undressing. I don't even remember getting to the top rung.

A second later, Paul shook my shoulder. "Gittup, kid. It's near dawn an' we got work t'do."

Outside, Jess was just stumbling out of the house, looking as bleary as I felt.

"Sit at the picnic table, an' take off yer shoes an' socks." Paul said, and then walked off. He reappeared with two pairs of boots and some thick wool socks.

"Put these on," he ordered. "Now rub this all over them socks."

"What is it?" Jessie asked.

"S'made with beeswax. Soffins up the leather some."

When we'd coated the socks with the soapy substance, he said, "Well, whatcha watin' for? Put 'em on."

"How do we even know they're the right size?"

"Miz Franks called me with yer shoe size, miss. Quit yackin'--git a move on."

We looked at each other, then hooked our fingers into the straps and pulled the boots on. Paul dumped a bucket of cold water onto our new boots, soaking the legs of our jeans.

"Now leave 'em on all day--they'll fit better tomorrow." He headed off to the stables with us squishing and squashing behind him. From that moment on, we were immersed in the equestrian experience.

He left us with James, who pointed out the far stables and the dung heap. We slogged to the main stable and he gave us the nickel tour, introducing us to the horses. Jessie's horse was named Whiskey. Her coat was buttery bronze, but her mane and tail were almost blonde. Mine was called Storm, an imposing brown horse, but with a mellow attitude, James assured me. James warned us to steer clear of Dolly. The Judge's roan was a little touchy.

And last, he instructed us how to clean the empty stalls. James handed us a rake and a shovel, and admonished, "Breakfast is in an hour--best be done by then."

"You mean you're just going to leave us here?" Jessie groaned, squishing her boots.

He grinned and strode off for other duties.

I guess being responsible for one horse was not the whole deal. They were all our responsibility. Half of the twelve stalls were dirty. We left the occupied stalls alone--he'd teach us about that later. It was a good thing we'd spent the first half of the summer outdoors. Mucking the stalls and hauling it away left me gasping for breath.

At first, I figured it was my bad lungs, and used my inhaler a lot, but after a couple days Jessie admitted that the altitude was rough on her, too. We worked hard, tired easily, and slept like stones. Every day we did a couple hours of chores, ate a big breakfast, and then it was riding lessons. At first, we could only tolerate an hour at a time, but soon we were managing two sessions a day, each a couple hours long. There didn't seem to be a moment that our butts weren't sore, or where we were left alone together.

On Friday mornings trucks with empty trailers rolled up the drive. Paul and James helped load the horses, then the trucks would leave for the rodeo in Steamboat Springs. It went on and off like that all day. On Saturday night, the older guys came back while the young riders partied in town.

"The drunker they get, the later they'll git here t'mara," James explained.

When we'd been at the ranch about three weeks, Daniel said, "Let's take a ride, kid. You're goin' to help me restock the line shack." I was excited that I'd get to ride outside the corral.

Grace brought out bag lunches, and Paul led out Dolly and Storm. I expected to see Whiskey as well, but instead Paul led out one of the older horses. I remembered him. The plaque on his stall read 'Fireball', but everyone called him Cinders. He was loaded with gear for the line shack, and Daniel led him on a painter. I took up the rear as we headed away from the house. I suspected it was an easy trail, but found it challenging. Riding up and down hills wasn't as easy as getting walked around the ring.

We took it slow, but after what seemed like an hour I called up to him, "Where is this line shack, anyway?"

"Bout time ya asked. It's at the northwest comer, beyond that little ridge. We're halfway or so, depending on the route." I got the impression we could probably have been there and back, depending on the route. He was just taking me for a ride, and I was fine with that.

"I usually enjoy the long way," I tested.

"Yup, me too." I was right--he and I kind of understood each other.

The rocky ridge looked like a row of teeth. It reminded me of a dream I had once. Everything out here was bigger than I expected. Once I was a little more used to the trail, I paid more attention to my surroundings. The aspens, birch, and pines were lush green from a couple days of rain. Was I imagining it?

"Long way can be dull, though," I yelled. "All the trees here look the same as the ones we passed before."

"S'atta fact?" was all he replied.

When he said line shack, he wasn't kidding. It was basically an eight-by-eight plywood box with a door and a tarpaper roof.

"There's a key hid under one of these rocks, but I never can recall which one, so I brought mine."

He felt around in his pockets. "Or maybe not." He didn't fool me. He just wanted me to look for it.

"I thought there was no lying here, Daniel."

"Who d'ya think makes these stupid rules, kid?"

I grinned and dismounted, and starting near the door, began flipping over anything bigger than a padlock key. Bending over like that, it occurred to me just how sore my behind had become. Daniel dismounted and fussed with the saddlebags.

"I'm really going to ache tomorrow, aren't I?"

"Long way or short way back? I'll let you pick."

"Long--I might as well make it worthwhile. Some less monotonous scenery would be nice, though. Aha--there's the key."

"Huh. Ya shoulda started lookin' there."

I unlocked the door. There was a rusty bed frame and a thin mattress tied up in a roll. There were loops of fence wire. Shelves held matches, tools, and a whole bunch of other stuff.

"Fetch me out the medical kit. Stuff goes bad after a while. And grab that box of rimfires. Nobody uses those. And them books."

He ordered more and more items from the shed. When I had built a small pile by Cinders, Daniel started handing me things from the saddlebags. I dutifully placed them on the half-empty shelves.

"What do you use this place for?"

"Ever been stuck outside in a hailstorm?" He started moving the pile into the empty saddlebags. "Other stuff, too. Git out them foldin' chairs."

I set them up in front of the shack. He handed me a sandwich and a canteen of cold water.

"You're getting' better at that guitar. I like hearin' ya play. James used to play some, until he busted up his hand. If ya ask, though, he might show you a couple things."

"I'll do that. Hey, Daniel?" I asked between bites. "How come we get to call you by your name and no one else does?"

"Names can say a lot of things. Some people call me Yer Honor outa respect, but m' friends can call me Judge. Only Gracie ken call me Paw."

"But us?"

"Nobody but you two get to call me Daniel. I was kinda a substitute dad for Mike, so that makes me kinda your Grampa, but ain't nobody gonna call me that. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it."

"So, what's goin' on with you an' yer sister?"

A chill shot up my spine. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the way you look at each other."

So that's what this little trip was about.

"I don't think you was swapin' beds exactly, an' that could be real trouble."

"Okay, fine. We like to sleep together. What harm does that do?"

"Depends what you mean by sleepin' t'gether."

I flinched, thinking of the night before we left.

"Not like that."

"D'ya wear p'jamas?"

"What?" I fidgeted. "We don't sleep naked, if that's what you mean."

His eyes narrowed.

"Have ya ever touched each other?"

I made a face that I hoped was like disgust.

"Ya gonna tell me ya never played doctor?"

"Geez, Daniel!"

"Okay, objection sustained. I hadta check, y'understand. I'll bet she kisses you goodnight, though."

"Well, yeah, but it's innocent."

"Is it? People make assumptions. Put yerself in my boots."

I looked away, studying the ridge. "I guess it could look like more."

"Yep. If I didn't know better, I'd take ya for a married couple."

We sat in silence for several minutes. He glanced at me, as if to remind me he was still waiting for a response.

Finally, I said, "Yeah, we kind of are."

He scrutinized my face, like Dad did sometimes.

"It's serious between ya, ain't it?"

"We said I do," I admitted.

He nodded, but said nothing.

"It's not just that, though. We took care of stuff together--school, shopping, bills... And Dad."

"Kinda young for that much responsibility."

"Dad says the only way to learn responsibility is to be entrusted with it."

"Ya did okay, kid." He got some homemade cookies out of the bag and split them between us. "You can tell me the other stuff when yer ready to."

"What other stuff?"

"The stuff you ain't sayin'. There ain't no secrets here, kid. I can read a colt at a hundrit yards, so if you think yer foolin' me, you ain't."

"So, what am I thinking?" I challenged.

"You really wanna know?"

I nodded, curious now.

"That fire did sumthin' to you, messed you up inside. You got the guilt all over you."

Oh shit--how could he know?

"Sometimes a guy can feel ashamed for bein' left alive. You gotta git past that. It ain't always about you." He fished another cookie from the paper bag.

Okay, a least he guessed that wrong.

"Yer scared, kid, and with good reason." He leaned forward. "Yer mom's gone and your daddy's sick. How long'll it take him to git better? What if he don't? You showed as how you can be an adult, but yer still jest a kid for the nex' six years--which to you sounds like eternity.

"Ya love a girl as much as a man loves his woman, y'figure, but it ain't allowed no-how. Ya can't have her, ya can't live without her, and ya can't get away from her. To top it off, you're stuck a thousand miles from home with folks you barely know. How'm I doin' so far?"

"You forgot reading minds--that kinda scares me, too. I feel like I haven't got any clothes on."

He laughed like Dad used to, right from his toes but a higher pitch. "Okay, now let's make it even, an' you tell me what I'm scared of."

"That doesn't make it fair, Daniel. I don't read minds."

"Jus' try, an' see how well you can do." He gestured his encouragement.

"Okay, you're afraid of... Dad not getting better, and being stuck with us, and... That we're too independent. Oh, and you're afraid that if you're right about me and Jessie--and you aren't--that we could get you in a bunch of...uh, horse droppings."

He smiled. "Good guesses, but you ain't no palm reader yet. You two are a blessing to an old fart like me. Makes m' feel a generation younger just havin' ya 'round. I admire your spunk, an' you'll follow the rules as near as you hafta. It'll be hard on you when Mike gits better, which I know he will. Unless they do sumthin' funny to his head, he won't give you near the independence ya find here."

Independence? I almost laughed.

"On that last one," he went on, "I'm gonna hafta watch you two. Like I said, there ain't no secrets here, an' I mean none. I like ya kid, I like you a lot, but no one tosses me in horseshit. Period. One of ya'd hafta go, and yer aunt's the other option. We square on that?"

"Yeah, square," I sighed. At least I knew where things stood.

That night at dinner I was so saddle-sore I could barely sit still. Daniel saw me squirming, and nodded. He announced, "I got good news an' bad news, kids. The good news is your dad graduated from rehab t'day, and he's on the mend. The bad news is that he still needs some supervised time before he's ready for you kids ta come home. Looks like yer stuck here fer another cupla weeks."

In truth, I was glad. I wasn't ready to leave yet.

My bottle of morphine pills was almost empty, so I asked Daniel if we could go to town and get a refill. He squinted at the label.

"What're ya doin' takin' this stuff?"

"It's for my burns."

"Hold still." He reached out and tapped me on my ruined right cheek. What was that about?

"Ya didn't even flinch," he said. "Ya don't need them pills."

"But if I don't take them I get all shaky and sick."

He poured the last few tablets into his hand. To my horror he flung them into the dry grass.

"You're gonna be real sick for a couple days, but you'll get better."

"No, wait! You don't understand!" I tried to run and find the medicine, but he held me with a strength that surprised me.

"What I understand is that you need them pills like your Daddy needs his liquor."

It took a minute for that to sink in, but when it did I stopped struggling and started to cry.

"Whatcha bawling for?"

"Daniel, I'm so scared! You don't know how bad it can get."

"Actually, I do. It's rough, but you'll live."

On his advice, I skipped dinner and just drank water. By the next morning I was alternately vomiting into the toilet and sitting on it. As the fever rose, sweat poured from my body. My muscles shook and ached. I begged for them to get me the medicine to make it stop. After two long days it eased, and I slept for fourteen hours. It was almost a week before I felt like myself again.

"Daniel? Is that what Dad had to go through?"

"Pretty much. If I was to offer you a pill now, would you be tempted to swallow it?"

"No way!"

"That's the difference with alcohol. You never stop craving it, even though ya know what it does to you."

When late August came, the rodeo closed for the season. The stables grew quiet and chores took less time. Jessie and I were still kept busy, though, and under close watch. We took rides with Daniel, but individually, never together.

He told me about the trials he presided over. None of the names stuck with me, it was always somebody versus somebody else. He explained how lawyers won and lost cases based on the arguments they used. He told me the best ones understood what the judge and jury would respond to, and didn't just flood them with every possible line of reasoning. Sometimes he'd test me by making up cases for me to argue.

Jessie and I, on the other hand, barely had time to say hi to each other in private. We could still read each other's looks. Mostly they said, "I miss you."

One night Daniel said at dinner, "Kids, I got good news an' bad news. The good news is your dad is certified and ready for you kids to come home. The bad news is that I'm gonna miss ya. We all are."

"What?" I was disoriented. Home? This was home. And now Dad was a stranger.

Jess just said, "Oh." I could feel the sadness in her voice. "Maybe we can come back to visit?"

"We'd like that a bunch. I'll see what I kin work out with yer dad."

The table was silent for a while. I asked, "So when do we go?"

"Mike didn't want you flyin' on airlines alone, what with all the connections and such. I told him you'd handle it fine, but he's the dad. I asked Lester t'fly ya back, but he's tied up t'mara, so we figured Thursdee. Don't give ya much time. Yer dad said school starts Monday and ya ain't even signed up fer classes yet."

Classes? School? Home? I wasn't ready. It seemed like I was less ready than when we got there.

All the next day gloom hung over the ranch. We sleepwalked though our chores, and skipped riding altogether. James tried to get me to play guitar, but I just wasn't up to it. I told him I'd leave the cheap guitar in the bunkhouse for him.

I sat on the porch steps, thinking about how hard they had been to climb that first night. Daniel came and eased down next to me. I liked the smell of his pipe. Cavendish, he called it.

"I got sup'm ta tell ya, Cory, an' it's a hard thing." I'd had enough hard things, but he never called me Cory. Whatever this was, he had my attention.

He gripped my arm.

"This might be beyond the horizon for ya, kid, but now's the only time we got." He took a long drag on the pipe. "I know that more'n anything on earth you're bent on protecting yer sister, and that's a good thing. A real good thing." I nodded. "But it's gonna cost you dear."

"It doesn't matter, Daniel. There's nothing I wouldn't do..."

"I know that. But there's gonna come a time--likely soon--when you'll need ta break it off."

I must have misunderstood. "What are you talking about?"

"You're gonna hafta end it b'tween ya."

That didn't make any sense. "Why would I do that?"

"For her safety, to protect her like ya promised."

"But..."

"An' that ain't the worst of it. Yer gonna hafta do the breakin'. She can't do it. It ain't her way."

I couldn't fathom it. I searched his eyes, but he turned away.

"I'm sorry, kid."

His words slammed into me like a falling mountain. Whatever this was, it was real. He squeezed my arm.

"You'll know when the time comes."

I wanted to argue, to plead, to grovel and beg this wasn't true. I couldn't have--there was a knot in my throat that I couldn't clear or swallow.

"When it's time, you call me. I'll help ya do whatcha hafta."

"Protect her from what?" I was able to rasp.

"You'll know. You just be sure ta call me. Promise?"

"Okay." The lump slid down my throat and took up the place where my heart usually was.

"Bein' a grown-up ain't as easy as it looks," he sighed. I'd seen that look once before. It was when Dad told Jessie that Mom wasn't ever coming back.

# Chapter 14

Daniel and Grace saw us off at the airport. Once we were airborne, Jessie got out of her seat and gave me a long hug.

"I've missed you so bad, Cory."

"Yeah," I hugged her back. "They didn't give us much time together."

"Daniel tried to explain it to me, but I didn't see what the big deal was."

"It's because that morning we left for the ranch, Daniel thought..."

"I know that," she said. "But we weren't doing anything bad."

"But it looked that way."

"Yeah, and I guess we came close, she whispered. "He asked if you ever touched me inappropriately."

"What did you say?"

"I said no, of course." She giggled. "I always felt it was appropriate."

"Oh, that's good. It's not something we can do any more, Jess."

"Maybe sometimes if we're alone?" She ran her hand down my arm.

"I don't know. You know how angry Dad got when Mom talked about us getting married. What do you think he do if he caught us breaking the rule?"

"He didn't care before the ranch."

"He would've cared a lot if he found us, and you know it. And he'll be sober now. I don't want to upset him. He might start drinking again. Then it'd be Aunt Mel's for sure."

She bit her lip. "Maybe if he's not home?"

"Maybe, but Sis, you know how easily he catches me at stuff..."

She nodded. "Okay, I guess you're right. At least for a while. We have to keep him calm, and not make him mad. It's going to be hard."

"I know, but we can do it for him. Come sit in my lap, Sis. I want to hold you while I can."

She waited until she was sure Lester wasn't looking, and gave me a deliciously dangerous kiss. My heart raced, and I felt that strange, fiery urgency again.

# Chapter 15

We'd kind of dropped out of sight that summer, then left Escanaba so fast. Nobody knew where we'd gone, so we had to tell the story a million times. We tried to explain about Colorado, but the other kids didn't get it at all. They made fun of our cowboy boots. Our feet were growing, and the boots were getting tight anyway.

Seventh grade was okay. It was cool to be in Junior High. But being back with the other kids was weird. It was like we'd changed, and they'd all stayed the same. Spaz was still a goofball and Janna still whined. I noticed that most of the girls had, well, started to look like teenagers.

There had been a big controversy at the school board while we were gone, whether we should have sex ed. In the end, a narrow majority said yes. Fifth through eighth grade would go through it the first year, and after that it would be a regular part of fifth grade. Everyone seemed all goofy over it. I don't know why--you didn't even have to attend if your parents wrote a note.

It was good to see Joel at my weekly lessons. He told me the new stuff James taught me was impressive. Mrs. Loomis was pleased at how much progress I'd made. Working all day at the ranch and playing guitar every night was good for my hand and arm.

I didn't realize how much I'd been missing Spaz. His dad had moved out, and things were hard at home. He usually stayed with us for dinner. He admitted to me that there wasn't always a lot to eat at house. His mom was having some mental problems and couldn't cook dinner most nights.

More than anything, it was good to see Dad. He was more normal than he had been since the fire. But different, too. Gaunt, older, very subdued. Even though he'd quit drinking and joined AA, he was still so depressed that he couldn't work. He had to see a doctor and get special pills.

He still wore his wedding band, and Mom's rings on a chain around his neck. Jess thought that was both sweet and macabre. I wondered if it was because her hands burned off. Another mental image for my nightmares.

He visited Mom's grave every week, and at first, he made us come. There was a bench next to the stone. I think he paid to have it put there. He'd sit and talk to her as if she was listening. Maybe she was. Dad called her Dear, never Emma. He told her what was going on at school, and about our struggles and accomplishments.

Jessie and I left Dad alone on the bench for a while. We wandered off looking for the oldest markers. Jess wanted to kiss behind a tree, but I told her it was way too risky. From across the way I glimpsed Dad crying. He didn't make a sound, but his shoulders shook, and I knew. That was one of the worst things I ever saw in my life.

After that, he offered to take us, but I never wanted to go. I'm sure he thought it was because I was too sad. I was just too guilty. Seeing her name on that stone reminded me what I had done. Even worse was seeing his name carved on the stone next to hers, with his birth date and a blank space, to be filled in later. If we lost him we'd be orphans.

In October, he had a relapse and started drinking again. Jessie and I got really worried, and begged him to stop. He managed to pull it back together after a couple weeks. He was a strong guy, inside and out, and knowing something was even more powerful than him, that was terrifying.

In October, Dad got a job in Manistique as a dispatcher. The State Police got a federal grant to expand the nine-one-one phone system for the whole tri-county area. He worked Friday through Monday from noon until ten at night, with an hour drive each way. It was rough on all of us, but we were glad he was working again.

Weekdays after school he'd take us out to the old sand quarry and practice with the deer rifles. When firearms season opened, he borrowed me from class to take me hunting. He would've taken Jessie, too. She was a keen shot, but adamant that she didn't want to actually hunt anything.

First, he missed an easy kill, the next he just wounded. We followed the blood trail as far as we could, but lost it in a swampy area. He seemed kind of annoyed when I let a couple go because I couldn't get a clean shot. That was forgotten when I dropped a young doe at over fifty yards.

We didn't talk much--it wasn't easy like with Daniel. I was always afraid I'd mess up and he'd know my secrets. When he asked me about the new class, "Human Development", it was uncomfortable.

"There's a lot more to know about sex than what they'll teach you," he said.

"Like what?"

"They'll explain the physical development you'll go through, but will probably leave out most of the emotional changes, which are just as tricky. They'll give you sanitized details about how the biology of reproduction works, but not the practical stuff that people deal with in real life, which is much more complicated.

"But you can ask me anything, whenever you're ready, or maybe I'll tell you when I think it's time." That was just like him, to give me notice that something was going to happen, and that I had control of when. At least up to a point. I decided to test his invitation.

"Um, okay, what does horny mean?"

"Where did you hear that?" He seemed amused.

"Jeremy says it a lot."

"It means sexually excited, a very strong, urgent craving to be physically intimate with someone."

I looked at him to make sure he wasn't teasing or joking with me. I thought about clean, dark skin and dangerous kisses.

"Do you feel that way sometimes?" he asked.

I didn't really want to answer that, but I did anyway. "Yeah, a couple times. It scared me, like getting burned, but inside."

"Strong stuff, huh?"

"Yeah."

We sat silent for a minute, watching the tree line for movement.

I needed to know. "Is it... normal?"

"Yeah, it's perfectly normal. You'll get used to it."

I doubted that.

The Human Development class was no big deal. It was fun to watch Mr. Winslow try to keep his cool while saying the word penis or vagina out loud. The other boys giggled a lot. Only a couple parents sent notes so their kid couldn't attend. Bobby Fleisher got in trouble because he threw his note away and was in the room the first two days.

Most of the stuff I already knew, and a lot more. Jessie had long ago told me what she'd learned about sex. She taught me all the slang words, and I'd taught her the proper names that Mom and Dad used. They'd been very matter-of-fact about anatomy, and like I said, sometimes noisy at night.

We were both "late bloomers" and had just started puberty, so that part of the class was interesting. It seemed weird that we'd sprout hair all over, and that my genitals would triple in size. I hadn't really understood about menstruation, so that was fascinating, too, but also gross.

The most amazing part for me was how a baby could grow from one cell to a whole miniature person in just a few months. The process--especially birth itself--looked awful for the mother, and I was glad I could never get pregnant. It crossed my mind how much I'd like to have babies with Jessie, though, to create people who were literally part of each of us.

It was funny the stuff the teachers weren't allowed to say. They couldn't really talk about actual sex itself--they never came right out and said that the penis goes in the vagina, which is kind of an important detail in the process. They never really answered questions about how boys or girls masturbate or the different kinds of birth control. They talked about condoms and safe sex, but never explained what a condom was or how you used it.

I got up the guts to ask Dad, and he was prepared. He brought out a package of them and a banana.

"This might be a little embarrassing," he admitted. "It is for me, too, but I think we'll both survive."

He tore a package off the strip and ripped it open.

"You pinch the end like this."

"Why?"

He explained what the reservoir tip was for. Fascinating and super gross.

"Make sure it's not inside-out. It should roll on easily, like this. Roll it down as far as you can--don't leave skin exposed, or it won't protect you from disease."

Then Dad made me open one up and put it on the banana myself. It was slimy with gel and I couldn't wait to go wash my hands. I guess he was right. There was a lot they didn't teach you in school.

One afternoon after the class Jess and I were alone in the house. Jess asked me out of the blue, "So, do you get erections?"

"Yeah, of course." I blushed. "About every fifteen minutes lately."

"It seems like it'd be uncomfortable."

I shrugged. "Yeah, sometimes."

"I mean, what do you do?"

"Usually just wait until it goes away."

"Do you masturbate?" she asked.

I decided to be honest. "Only whenever I can. You?"

"Sometimes."

There was a silence then between us. I wanted to know if she thought about me like I did her. I was afraid, though, so I only said, "What do you think about?"

She gave me a faint smile, like those pictures of the Mona Lisa. She got up and headed to the kitchen.

"I'm going to make a snack. Do you want anything?"

Yes, I did, but we'd reached a limit to our intimacy. I was little relieved, but disappointed, too.

Grandma Sophie--Mom's mother--died in late October. She looked even scarier dead. They put makeup on her, but you could still see through it to the tattoos on her neck. She was buried near Mom, but nobody came to her funeral except Grampa Joe, a couple of their friends, and us. Not even Aunt Oona.

After the service, their motorcycle friends circled the cemetery three times. Dad told us that everyone grieves in their own way.

# Chapter 16

Every family has a couple secrets. We learned our first one when we turned thirteen.

We sat at the dinner table on a Friday evening. Dad had traded for a Sunday morning shift so he could be home to celebrate with us. Jess and I were admiring our birthday gifts, a pair of very cool Pulsar watches, the new digital kind.

"Daddy, can I get my ears pierced?" Jessie asked.

"It's your body. I've always told you, as long as it's not unhealthy, you have control. I appreciate that you checked with me, but you don't need my permission. Can you afford it?"

"Beth says she can do it for free."

"I'd rather have you get it done at a shop or salon," he said, "where they're experienced, and they use sterile stuff. You don't want your earlobes infected."

Jessie grinned. "I guess that's reasonable. Cool!"

Just for fun, I asked, "How about me, Dad? Can I get a tattoo?"

"Not until you're fourteen, and only with my written consent. That's the law." He cocked his head. "If you could, what would you get?"

My sister's name in a heart on my bicep? No, I guess not.

"Um, I don't know. Just curious."

"How was school?" he asked.

"Typical day, not much to report," Sis sighed.

"We did get Mr. Palmer off on an interesting tangent," I said. "Spaz asked him where the name Palmer came from, implying something rude of course. That kid has no filter. He just says whatever he's thinking at that moment, you know? But Mr. Palmer explained that it was French, for people who came back from the Holy Land with palm leaves. So, it means a pilgrim."

Jessie looked up. "What does Laine mean?"

"I don't know that it means anything," Dad said, "but it's very common in Finland."

"How about Virtanen?" Jessie asked.

Dad paused. "Why do you ask?"

"My math teacher." Her tone mimicked the teacher, who was a little bit snotty. "She told us her family is from France."

"It must be her married name then. Virtanen's a common Finnish name, too."

"Well I've never heard it," she said, still in the teacher's voice.

"It was your Mom's maiden name," he said.

"I thought her name was..." I stopped, confused. "Oh, wait, she was Grampa Joe's stepdaughter, wasn't she?"

"That's right. She was just two when he married Grandma Sophie. Her biological father was..." he drew out the name as if announcing an arrival to a formal ball, "Captain Cornelius Oliver Virtanen."

"We've never met him, have we?" I asked.

Jess frowned. "Met him? I've never even heard his name before."

"I never met him either, Son, but we named you in his honor."

"Dad, I've seen my birth certificate. It says Cory Mikael Laine right on it, nineteen sixty-seven."

"We didn't want you to get called Cornelius at the beginning of every school year, so we shortened it."

"Oh, like Trina in my gym class," Jessie said, hand on her cheek. "Her real name's Latrina--like a bathroom!"

Dad winced. "Oh, that is bad, poor girl."

"You did the right thing, Dad. I appreciate that. What do you know about this guy, uh, Grandpa Virtanen?"

"Grandma Sophia married him when she was just twenty-two, I think. Her parents didn't approve because he was much older, in his fifties."

"Did they marry in their hearts first, like you and Mom?" Jess asked.

"Maybe he did, but I suspect she married him for his money. He was wealthy. Sophie and Cornelius had a daughter, your mom, but your Grandma Sophia was a wild one, and she got bored with the old man. She cheated on him and got pregnant with Aunt Oona."

This was crazy. "So, I'm confused. Who's Aunt Oona's dad?"

"My dad's brother, my Uncle Johanas. Or as you know him, Grampa Joe."

"So, wait," I said. "He's my step-grandpa and my, um, second cousin twice removed or something? This's like a soap opera, Dad."

"It gets better--or worse, I mean. According to the story, the old Captain caught them together and beat the heck out of Johanas with a cane. He said if he ever saw Joe again he'd use a sword instead. Sophia was so mad! She told the old man she was expecting again, but that this one wasn't his."

"What'd he do?" Jess asked.

"He told her he'd throw her out on the street, penniless and pregnant. He cursed her and he cursed the child, and any children she'd ever have."

"Wow," Jess said. "So, what happened then?"

Dad stroked his beard. "That's an interesting question. Officially? Three days later, the old man committed suicide. Whatever the real story was, Sophia was apparently a wealthy widow. She didn't even wait a week after the funeral to marry Grampa Joe."

"Do you think the Captain was murdered?"

"Probably. Sophia and Joe are the only ones who'd know for certain. She's dead and he's not talking. But the old man got one last laugh. After the fight, he changed his will, and gave away all his property and assets."

I laughed. "Ooo! I'll bet that made her angry."

"Sophia was beyond livid. She spent years trying to get at the money, but never succeeded. She took a lot of it out on Mom. She spoiled Oona and Maria, and treated Mom like Cinderella. Grampa Joe would've adopted your Mom, but Sophie wouldn't allow it. That's why her last name was still Virtanen."

"That was mean," Jess said.

"At the time, yes it was, Bug. But sometimes good fortune comes dressed in rags. If he'd adopted Emma, she and I would be first cousins, and we couldn't legally have gotten married."

That statement gave me a chill. If cousins couldn't marry, what did that mean for Jess and me? I knew better than to ask Dad about it, though.

"Grandma Sophia looked mean even at her own funeral," Jessie said. "I thought it was just all of those tattoos."

"How come you never told us any of this before?" I asked.

He smirked. "It's hardly a story fit for a child, is it? But you're thirteen now, not children anymore, and it seemed a good moment. Let's go look through the family albums that Aunt Mel gave us--maybe there are some pictures of him."

We spent the evening looking at old photographs.

"Oh, Cory," Jessie said. "You were so cute as a little boy! And Mom, look at how beautiful she was."

"I wish we had pictures of you when you were younger, Jess. It makes me sad that we didn't get to grow up together."

A lot of the pictures were wedding photos, taken during different decades. Dad reminded us that a wedding is just a public declaration of what's already in your hearts. The promise that comes before it and the marriage that come after are much more important.

"We know," Jessie rolled her eyes. "You've told us that a hundred times."

Dad joked with Jess about the silly hats, and the best and worst dresses.

"Oh, that one's amazing! Who's that, Daddy?"

"That's my mom's mom, your Great-Grandma Everett. She made that dress herself, that's why it's so plain."

"No, it's beautiful! On the other hand, her maid of honor? Eew."

I found one that might've been Grandma Sophie. The young lady looked too pretty to be the same woman I had known, but some of the features were there. She was standing with an older man in a tuxedo, and the way he held her arm was formal but still conveyed affection. In his other hand was a solid-looking walking stick with a brass or silver knob. The photograph was unlabeled, but that face appeared in no other picture. We figured it must be him. His face... Yeah, he was definitely my biological grandfather.

# Chapter 17

The day after we looked at all those wedding pictures, the thought of really being married to Jessie burned like an open wound in my heart. Guys didn't usually marry their sister. I understood that--it didn't necessarily mean you couldn't. But Dad said it was illegal for cousins, though, so...

After Jessie's karate class Dad dropped us off at home. After he drove out of sight, I got my bike from the garage and pedaled through the snow to the library. I found the big set of books full of Michigan's state laws. After half an hour of fruitless searching, I broke down and asked a librarian for help finding the section on marriages. She did a double-take when she saw my face--like a lot of people did--and then showed me how to use the Civil Code index.

And there it was in black and white--just like Sis and me.

"Section 551.3," I mumbled. "A man shall not marry his mother, grandmother, daughter, granddaughter, sister..."

That can't be all, I thought. I looked for exceptions. Maybe because she was adopted? Not a word about exceptions. I checked the index. Adoption. Foreign... Procedures... Appeals... Parental rights must be described a thousand times, but nowhere did it mention the kids' rights. Finally, Section 710.60. This was it!

"After entry of the order of adoption there is no distinction between the rights and duties of natural progeny and adopted persons, and the adopted person becomes an heir at law of the adopting parent or parents, and an heir at law of the lineal and collateral kindred of the adopting parent or parents." Who writes this stuff?

But no distinction? I understood that part. It didn't matter that she was adopted. She was my sister, just as if we really were twins. My stomach twisted. There must be a way. If there wasn't I might as well just die.

I went back to the librarian, who was putting away books. Making sure nobody was nearby, I whispered as nonchalantly as I could, "Thanks for your help, but I couldn't find what I wanted. Do you know if a bro... if an adult can marry his sister?"

She gave me the strange look I expected, but then smiled. "Of course not, young man. That would be incest."

I'd heard that word. It was something bad, because Dad said it was a problem in our part of the state. At the time, I'd assumed it was something to do with the people who grew marijuana way out in the woods. But that wouldn't make any sense here.

"Is that true even if one of them is adopted?" I asked.

"I'm sure that would still be illegal." Then the question I dreaded. "Why on earth would you want to know?"

"Um, a friend told me it was true, and I didn't believe him."

She smiled. "Well, good for you for looking it up. You can't always believe what you hear." Then she went back to putting books away.

So, what was this incest? I flipped through the thick dictionary in the reference room. "...the crime of sexual intercourse, cohabitation, or marriage between persons within the degrees of consanguinity or affinity wherein marriage is legally forbidden."

Honestly, my thoughts hadn't run as far as "sexual intercourse." Even when I masturbated and thought about her I didn't think of, well, that. I wondered if she... That Mona Lisa smile. My whole body shuddered and tingled.

I must be misunderstanding about cohabitation, because pretty much all brothers and sisters live together. But marriage? That was real clear. Marriage was specifically forbidden, so it was a crime. I couldn't handle that, I just couldn't process it.

I staggered back to the law books to see how bad a crime it was. The Michigan Criminal code was on the next shelf. I was relieved to find that the section on incest had been repealed almost a decade before. But now I was confused again. If it wasn't allowed, but it wasn't a crime, what was it?

I skimmed further ahead and found section 750.520b, criminal sexual conduct in the first degree. I read the words under my breath. "A person is guilty of criminal sexual conduct in the first degree if he engages in sexual penetration..." Wow. "...with another person and that other person is... Less than sixteen and... A member of the same household or related..."

Where's the bottom line? Next page. Oh, man, this is bad... "A felony punishable by imprisonment for life or for any term of years." Life or a million years. I couldn't breathe. No wonder Daniel was so worried. If someone caught us together, even innocently, even just kissing... People might assume... What if Dad thought...? That's why he'd been so mad at Mom!

"Oh shit." I said aloud. A man looked up from his book and glared. I couldn't even formulate an apology. My dream of marrying Jessie could never be real, and the knowledge crushed my soul.

Riding my bike home, part of my heart went cold and bitter about how Mom had lied to us. The rage overwhelmed my grief and guilt, and quickly grew to fill me.

The house was empty. Dad was at work and Jess was at Jody's. I locked the doors so I could hear if Sis came home. I sat cross-legged on my bed and addressed the poster of Albert Einstein making a goofy face.

"Al," I said aloud. "I have a serious problem. You're so smart... You have to help me figure this out."

He said nothing, but listened patiently.

"Jess and I, we've had some kind of connection right from the start, right? We both felt it."

Albert stared at me.

"Okay, okay, it was love. I can't even imagine being with another girl. Dammit, Al, we're married for God's sake!"

Maybe I should find a poster of Freud.

"Sigmund is right. This goes back to Mom. That bitch! The idea of us being destined for each other is crazy. Dad sure thought so. Why'd she do that?"

I felt like Doctor E was mocking me.

"Yeah, siblings play house all the time, but guys don't fantasize about being married to their sister, right? And they don't sleep together. But that was a unique situation, and it changed us. We're not your usual brother and sister. But it's over now and we can't do that anymore. We aren't kids anymore.

"Anyway, it's really serious. There's this law. We can't get married. And we can't act like we're married. And this penetration stuff, holy shit." I remembered the feel of her soft, clean skin next to mine, the night before we left for Colorado, wanting more. I thought about that subtle smile. "It'd be so easy to go too far. If anybody knew how I felt, if someone even suspects that I might've touched her... I don't want to go to jail.

"So, what can we do? We can't run away... What would that do to Dad? Besides, they'd find us and separate us. I couldn't bear it, and Jess would rather die than go back to an orphanage." I thought about those bruises on her wrists, and what else... "No, we can't risk that."

"Besides, what would the kids at school say? Her life would be hell. So would Dad's. He's had enough of his own problems--he doesn't need mine. He's been doing so well, and he could easily slip back if I brought that on him. Shit, if they thought he knew, or should have known, they could take us away. Maybe even put him in prison. I don't think I can handle this. Oh my God, what if..."

Then it hit me with the ferocity of a wounded bull. I had to handle this alone. No matter what it cost or how badly it hurt or for how long. I had to protect my family. I had to protect Jessie, even if it destroyed me. The burden was overwhelming.

"No more what-ifs! None of that is going to happen, okay? D'you understand?" I hollered at the wall. "I'm in control of this! I know what I have to do."

The answer came screaming back at me.

"Nothing!"

That was the problem. The only thing I could do was nothing, and that was the hardest solution I could imagine.

"But I'm mature, right? I can control it," I added unconvincingly. "Nothing bad happens unless I screw up. We can't kiss anymore, and she can't come in here anymore. Ever. And we can't tell anybody."

"Honestly, Al? I want to kill myself..." At that moment, it seemed like a more sensible solution than a life of empty agony.

"Shit! I can't! I couldn't do that to Jess and Dad." Tears were inevitable. "Oh, shit! Ohshitohshitohshit! I'm so trapped."

Even though I was alone, I screamed and cried into my pillow.

# Chapter 18

Sunday morning my eyes were still red. I hid out in my room until I heard Jessie get up.

I figured she'd use up all the hot water again. Dad had put in one of those showerheads on a hose with different pulses and spray patterns. He said we were old enough to really enjoy it. Jessie and I had agreed that at a certain setting and aimed just right, it did feel awfully good, but I doubted that was what he'd meant.

I sat at my desk in just my robe, drawing a plan for one of my mantle boats. I planned to make spending money by selling the sailboat models at local tourist shops in the summer. I had tried making quilts to sell, but they didn't come out right--both of us had one of the ugly things on our beds. But I figured the boats would be popular, and decided to make several so I didn't run out mid-season.

I wasn't really thinking about boats, though. I had to talk to Jessie about what I'd discovered, and I dreaded it. I couldn't even fathom how to break it to her. Einstein seemed to jeer at me from the wall. I used my inhaler, but it didn't relieve the tightness in my chest. So, this is what Daniel meant. Maybe I should call him first.

Jessie screamed in her room and then ran past my door.

"Cory? Help!" There was panic in her voice, something I had never heard. A thud came from the bathroom, so hard I could feel it through the wall.

"Jess?" No response.

Dropping the sketchpad, I ran into the bathroom. To my total shock, she was on the floor with her pajama bottoms around her ankles. There was blood on her clothes and down her leg. In her haste to undress, she had gotten a toe hooked on part of her underwear, and there was a head-shaped dent in the drywall.

I started to call for Dad, but realized he'd had to go into work early that morning. I'd have to manage this. Instinctively, I rushed in and knelt next to her.

"What happened? You're hurt! Stay right here--I'm calling nine-one-one."

She freed her foot from the tangle, grabbed my hand and stood.

"Move over," she demanded, and then stepped into the tub, naked from the waist down. A neat funnel of fine, dark... Well, of course, she'd have pubic hair now. A lot more than me. Why should that be startling? She yanked the shower curtain closed.

"Get out of here!" she yelled.

"Sit down," I ordered. "You'll fall again. I'll grab the phone."

"Wait! Cory, Stop. No, no, no--I'm okay, I'm okay."

Unconvinced, I glanced down at her bloody clothes on the bathmat. A disembodied hand reached out from behind the curtain and added her pajama top to the pile.

"Are you sure? You didn't look okay."

"I'm alright," she repeated, a little more calmly this time. "I'm not hurt. I was just a little... Scared. Please, Cory, just leave me alone, okay?"

I heard the shower go on and almost immediately the squeak of slipping feet. The hand reached out again, grabbing at the curtain. This was too much for the rubber end of the curtain rod, which sprung free and crashed to the floor. Jessie sat naked in the tub where she'd landed, with the water cascading onto her.

I stared for a moment at the pink trickle flowing toward the drain, and then slowly back to her face, which was a bright russet. Even her ears flushed. She moved to cover herself with her hands. Her breast buds were so small that it worked.

She looked so vulnerable. I just wanted to make things all right for her. I looked away, climbed onto the toilet seat cover, and busied myself with rehanging the curtain.

"I'm not hurt. Really. It's just my first period," she explained. "But it was so sudden. I just... Freaked out."

I glanced down and her face now burned even brighter. Giving up her attempt at modestly, Jessie stood up to fix the liner. It wasn't like when we skinny-dipped... Was that just last summer? Her body looked different. Her areolas were the color of coffee, and bumpy like mine get when I'm cold. I'd always thought she was cute, and now I could see she was becoming a beautiful young woman.

Looking at my little sister nude didn't make me feel uncomfortable. It was actually nice. It felt funny, but sort of exciting. I could feel my body react.

When our eyes met I almost dropped the curtain rod.

Those eyes! The narrowed rims of her dark irises were barely visible, and her even darker pupils were open wide. I could see my reflection in them, breaking into a bashful smile. Then the most amazing thing happened. She smiled back at me. It was like her whole face--her whole being--lit up. I felt a surge of joy. I felt my life change.

Suddenly I understood why couples looked so googly-eyed at each other. I wanted to kiss her. I'd never wanted to kiss anybody like that. I wanted to be her hero and save her from a bear. I wanted to marry her--but not like before. For real, to love for always, to hold her naked every night and to wake up beside her every morning for the rest of my life.

My mind reeled and seconds ticked away. What should I say? What should I do? Should I try to kiss her, maybe just on the cheek, or would that be too... If only I could freeze this moment, or at least not ruin it.

Too late, the moment had already passed. Still smiling, she turned back to straighten the liner. I stepped down. Damn, I should have done or said something. Safely separated again by the shade, I realized that I'd literally been holding my breath, and exhaled.

Oh shit! My robe had come loose. I yanked it closed and tightened the knot. Did she see? No, probably not, I don't know. It occurred to me that at worst we were even, but that didn't seem much comfort.

"Oh my God, Cory!" she giggled nervously. "I'm so sorry. That was too much information, huh?"

"Uh, it's okay, Sis, no problem. That was nice," I started... Nice? My brain screamed--why did I say that? Where could I go with that? My heart hammered against my ribs. "I mean you have a really nice... smile. It makes your eyes sparkle." Wow, that was really lame. "Did you...?" No, don't go there. "Do you need anything?" I asked.

"No, except to die quickly of embarrassment."

"Yeah, um," I understood that. "Then you, ah, you go ahead and get cleaned up, and, um, and I'll, uh, take your things down to the laundry, okay?"

"No, I'll take care of it." She peeked around the curtain, still bright red and smiling weakly.

"Thanks, Cory." Then she added, a little more surely. "I like your eyes, too."

What did she mean by that?

Ignoring her instructions, I wrapped her clothes in the bathmat, and slipped out of the room.

That radiant smile burned in my heart. I felt really weird, excited, a little dizzy. The picture of her undressed burned behind my eye sockets. I was painfully erect. I had to adjust things before I could comfortably walk down the hall.

On the way to the laundry room, all I could say to myself was "Wow." I understood periods, at least in a general, mechanical sense. I'd never contemplated the reality. Like she said, too much info.

Downstairs, I started the washer. Socks, bathmat, pajamas... I looked around. No bra. Okay, not that she needed one. Both horrified and fascinated, I untangled the panties and dropped them in.

Back upstairs, I noticed some dark spots on the carpet. I got carpet cleaner from under the kitchen sink and went back to spray some on every spot I could find. Each one turned into a little pile of white foam with a pink dot in the middle.

I slipped into shorts and a tee shirt. When the shower turned off, I double-checked my fly and then knocked softly on the bathroom door. Sis opened it, wrapped in a big towel.

"I got the carpet, so be careful of the wet spots. And I threw in the laundry..."

"I said you didn't have to." It sounded curt. She tried again. "I mean, thank you, that was nice of you. Hang on--can you add these to the load?" She passed me a couple hand towels. "Thanks, Cory," she said again.

Back in the basement, I sat on one of the freezers to think. It was full of venison from our hunting trips last month. I stared at the drill press. I noticed some sawdust that I'd missed under the workbench, and made a mental note to clean it up before Dad came down.

I stared at the gun safe where the rifles waited, cleaned and oiled, ready for target practice and hunting next fall. There were also handguns and bows in there. Dad taught us to use and care for them all. Jessie was an amazing archer, but she was so strong. Even before the fire my arms got tired too quickly.

Jessie. I stared at the washing machine. Nothing came into my head. Just that naked smile.

# Chapter 19

When I came back upstairs, she was sitting on her bed, still wrapped in the towel.

"Um, can you bring me my purse?" I nodded and retrieved the purse from her desk. It was light purple and had sparkles on it. I felt funny carrying it, even just across the room.

"Thanks," she said. She hesitated, biting her lip. "I feel so stupid. I've had symptoms for days... Too much, I know. Can you go to the store for me?"

"Yeah, of course--what do you need?"

"Beth's mom was supposed to take me shopping for, um, stuff last week. I'd call her now but I know she's at work. I'll understand if you don't want to, but I'd really appreciate it." I felt uneasy.

She took out a pen and a little pink notepad, and wrote down exactly what she required, with all the details I'd need. She gave me some money from her wallet, tore out the page, and handed it to me. When I read it, I almost groaned out loud, but managed not to.

"I'm sorry, Cory."

"No trouble at all," I lied. "Anything for you, Sissy." At least that part was true.

"And Cory?" she begged, "Would you go down to Drugco? Miller's is closer, but you know how Mrs. Miller is... I don't need everyone knowing my business."

"Good idea. Drugco is better for me too, for similar reasons. Anything else?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Okay, I'll be right back."

I grabbed my backpack, emptied it onto my bed, and jogged out the back door. I got my bike from the garage and rolled down to the big drug store. I should have used my inhaler again before I left the house. The cold December air burned my chest as I pedaled. My lungs seemed to shrink to the size of teacups, and I had to rest until it passed. That was close.

The store was busier than I hoped. Getting the pills was the easy part--they were next to the aspirin. For the other things, I found the aisle, but two women chatted right in the middle.

There was a revolving rack of sunglasses at the end next to me, and I tried a pair on, keeping the ladies in view until they left. I scanned the big round ceiling mirrors to make sure nobody was nearby, and then I made my move.

The packaging was exactly as Sis described, so the brand was easy to find. I grabbed the tampons as nonchalantly as I could, and resisted the urge to run to the register.

I paused by the sunglasses again, and was relieved to see that there wasn't a line at the checkout. But when I got to the counter, the clerk was stocking something at the far end.

"I'll be right with you, honey," she called. I winced, and slid the merchandise away from me until she got back. Time crawled.

That's when I saw Spaz bounce in the door. Normally I'd be happy to see him. But Spaz had the biggest mouth south of the Porcupines, he simply lacked a filter. He couldn't keep a secret any more than he could stop moving. If he saw me with Jessie's stuff, we'd never hear the end of it. I was glad he didn't notice me, and prayed he hadn't recognized my bike.

The seconds ticked away. I checked the fisheye mirror in the comer. Spaz was in the back now, getting a cold drink and looking at some chips. The clerk wandered up to the register at last, and I wordlessly pushed the supplies toward her.

"Oh," she brightened. "There's a coupon for these in our flier."

"Uh, no thank you Ma'am, that's fine. I'm in a hurry."

She looked at me and again at the purchase, and then back at me. She nodded sympathetically. Pointing at my backpack, she suggested, "Why don't you put these away while I ring you up?"

I was so relived to stuff and zip the backpack that I started to walk away without taking my change. Along with the bills and coins, the clerk handed me two chocolate bars. She smiled at me and said, "You'll want these, too. On the house, little mensch."

I was confused, but accepted the gift. "Thank you..." I looked at her nametag. "Thank you, Becca." I got out of there well ahead of Spaz, and raced home, hoping I didn't run in to anybody else.

# Chapter 20

Sis was lying on her quilt, wrapped in her old yellow bathrobe. She smiled with relief and got up to meet me at her door. She took the bag with one hand and wrapped the other around my back. Pulling me close, she kissed me on the good cheek. It felt nice on my cheek and in my heart. Then I remembered how pointless it was.

I retreated to my room, and stared at the sloop design. I decided the proportions were all wrong. From my desk, I saw Jess go to and from the bathroom, and then heard her go down to the laundry room, where she started the drier. I picked up _Captains Courageous_ , but found myself reading the same paragraph over and over. The words wouldn't go into my head, they just stayed on the page.

I gave up and lay back on my bed. I had so many questions.

She really must have panicked! How could she fall? She was the most coordinated person I knew. All that martial arts training... Why did she call for me? Jessie was normally so independent. Why didn't she just wait for me to get out of the bathroom? You'd think that jumping in the shower, in front of a boy--especially her brother--would be the last thing a girl wanted to do on her "special day." I guess it was nice to think that she felt that safe with me, that she'd trusted me so instinctively.

Even if she had seen my robe open, I knew we weren't even. I tried to imagine how she must have felt.

The only male equivalent I could imagine was my first ejaculation. I mean, I knew it would happen, but not that it would happen then, and it did startle me. I don't think I'd have called for Jessie. Well, then again, if it was blood coming out of me...

But why did I have to get an erection when I saw her like that? I mean, sure, it happens all the time, and I have no control over it. But why'd it have to be that moment? Was it just the worst possible timing? Or maybe it was the adrenalin. No, I liked looking at her and I really liked seeing her body. Ugh. Why'd I have to like it? Was I turned on by the situation? Yes, I had to admit. I'm weird. I'm sick. I was in love with her and she was beautiful. And now it was more than love.

And that moment of awe when our eyes met--it clung to me. I wished I could ask her if she felt it, too.

Einstein mocked me from the wall.

"Yeah, I know Al. I'm all screwed up."

Dad usually called us around six on his dinner break. That night, as usual, he asked if I'd finished all my homework, if I'd shoveled the sidewalk, and if we had any problems. "You two are getting along?"

"Yeah, I did it, and yes, we're getting along just fine, no problems." I smiled at Jessie and she smiled back.

"Okay, I love you, Son--I'll look in on you tonight. You can put your sister on now."

"Hi, Daddy. Yeah, I'm good. Uh-huh. Uh-huh, right. No, no problems. And then..." She glanced at the hamper by the stairs. "...later we did laundry. No, I forgot to clean the fridge... I'll do it tonight. Yes, okay. Right after I get off the phone." She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I promise."

"What do you mean? Nothing's going on with me." Her face turned red. "No, I'm fine. Really." She covered the receiver and whispered, "Cory! What am I supposed to say?"

"Go ahead and tell him. You can't stall--you'll just piss him off."

She waved me away like a fly. "I know, Daddy, it's just..." I gave her the thumbs up to encourage her. "It's that I, uh... It's just that I had my first period today. Thank you, Daddy. Yes, I'm fine. Yeah, really. No, don't call Aunt Mel--I don't... Please."

Jessie rolled her eyes again and clenched her fist. "No, please. I'm sure, I'm all set. Cory went to the store for me. Yeah, really. Yeah. I'm sure, thanks though. Okay, I will. I love you, too."

She turned to me. "How does he do that?" she hissed. I shrugged--I don't know how, but Dad knew when something was up, and he wouldn't let it go until the truth came out. "He wants to talk to you again."

"Yeah, Dad?"

"I just wanted to thank you for taking care of your sister. Most 13-year-old guys wouldn't have the guts to go to the store. That was above and beyond the call of duty. Especially with Mrs. Miller there! I'm proud of you, Son."

I guess I knew he was proud of me, but he usually didn't say it out loud. This was pretty high praise, and it made me feel good. "Thanks, Dad. Actually, I went to Drugco instead."

"Oh, good. I'm glad you did that." We chuckled together. You always knew if he approved of someone or not, even though he never said anything bad about anyone directly.

"Hey Dad, what does 'mensch' mean?"

"It's German for 'human being', why?"

"Someone called me a mensch today. I think they were making fun of me."

"Oh, no that's a good thing. In Yiddish it means a man of integrity and honor, a good, decent guy. It was a great compliment."

"Oh, cool."

"I have to get back to work. Make sure Jess goes to bed. She might need extra rest. I know you're into that new boat design, so go and have fun. I'll see you later if you're still up, okay?"

That was unusual. I think he just gave me permission to stay up late. I wasn't sure if it was a reward, or if maybe he wanted me to stay up so we could talk. Sometimes Jessie or I would have our private conversations with him when he got back at night. "Okay Dad. I love you, too--be careful driving home."

I hung up the phone, and Jessie eyed me suspiciously. "What were you two laughing about?" I grinned, trying to conceal my glee. "He said that Mrs. Miller is a nosy old bat with a big mouth and not enough sense to keep it shut."

"He didn't."

"Well... Not exactly in those words, but he sure seemed relieved that I went downtown." I tried to keep a straight face, but once I started snickering I couldn't stop.

She looked surprised when I reached out and gave her a hug.

"What's that for?"

"I'm proud of you, Sis--for telling Dad. There's no way that was easy."

"It's not like I had much choice, but thanks for the encouragement. You really are an angel, you know. It's so cool. I love that you ran to take care of me, and that you went to the store for me. I'm sure that's not something you really wanted to do. Come here," she said, holding out her arms.

We hugged each other again, for what seemed like half an hour, though it probably wasn't even half a minute. She put one hand on the back of my head and pulled me close, but not too hard. I could feel through our tee shirts that she still wasn't wearing a bra. Her tiny nipples felt firm against me. I wrapped my arms around her and held her. This was nice, and she seemed in no hurry to let go.

This wasn't helping my situation at all. It made my pulse race. She put her lips by my ear and whispered, "Thank you, Cory. For everything."

We looked in each other's eyes again and it was jolting. I desperately wanted to say something, but she suddenly seemed nervous. Instead, I kissed her on the forehead. "I love you, Sis."

Jessie wiped out the refrigerator while I reheated the pan of lasagna Dad left thawing for us. We hardly said anything while we ate. When we were done, she asked if I'd mind cleaning up.

"Thanks, I'm tired. It's early, but I think I'll go lie down for a while."

"I understand, Sis, that's fine."

She kissed me again. On the neck, just below my ear. It was slow and tender, not a quick peck, and it tickled. Not like any kiss I'd ever gotten. My heart was a jackhammer in my ears.

She whispered, right in my ear. "I love you, Cory."

This was what I craved more than anything on earth, and it was impossible. I felt a flash of rage at Mom over what she had done to me.

Jessie released me and looked at the floor. "Um, there's no desert. I ate your candy bars. I'm sorry."

"Those were for you. The lady at Drugco said you might want them."

She gave me a smile and headed down the hall with the laundry basket.

"Cory?" she said as she reached her doorway."

"What, Sis?"

She looked down. "Uh, never mind."

I cleaned up and put the leftovers in the refrigerator. It was hard to stand still.

Back in my room, I picked up the books and refilled my backpack. Questions crowded in my head again. Why'd she kiss me like that? I knew that it made my heart pound, but I had no idea what it meant to her. Was she just really appreciative, or had the situation affected her, too?

Just thinking of it made me hard again. I wanted to relieve myself, but couldn't risk Jessie hearing me. That'd definitely be creepy. So, I adjusted to make myself less uncomfortable. I couldn't even close my bedroom door--she'd know. Would she, or was I paranoid? I'd just have to wait a couple hours until bedtime. I knew how my fantasy would go, too.

As if to confirm my unease, I heard her in her room. Through the wall, I made out the sound of dresser drawers opening and closing, then silence.

I still had to explain about the laws and stuff. I thought of calling Daniel like I'd promised him, but decided I was just procrastinating. This wouldn't be any easier tomorrow, so I'd better give it a shot.

I peeked into her room. She leaned back against the headboard, reading a magazine. "I left the change on the dresser," I said.

"I found it, thanks."

I inhaled deeply and said, "Can we talk?"

She laid the magazine aside and sat up, hugging her knees.

"Cory, I'm so sorry, I just freaked out, you know? I don't know why, I was scared and needed to... I just... I knew that you..."

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I put my hand on her slim shoulder, like Dad did when we were upset. "Hush, that's not it, not what I want to talk about. I think we were both pretty embarrassed, but I'm glad you called for me."

"You were, wait--what?"

"You can count on me, Sis, you're safe, you're fine. You never have to be scared of anything with me."

She relaxed her posture a little. "You're serious, aren't you?" I nodded. "And seeing me like that..."

I tried to change the subject. "And I'm glad that you... That you knew I'd help you." She unfolded her body, now sitting cross-legged on the quilt. She leaned forward. "But didn't it gross you out?"

"It, um, surprised me. I didn't know what to think at the time, but it's cool. You and I are fine." She looked relieved. She blushed again, but my face felt warm, too. "Can I ask you something?" She nodded. I wanted to know if she felt that lightning bolt. I especially wanted to ask about that kiss on the neck, but I chickened out. Maybe I could work up to it. "Why'd it scare you?"

"Huh. I don't know. I kind of knew it was coming soon. You know, someday? But I wasn't ready. Maybe I was in denial. I don't want to go through this every month for the next thirty years."

"I can't blame you."

"I wish Mom was here." This was probably when most girls would want their mother. It hadn't occurred to me that losing Mom might've hit Jess deeper in some ways.

"Maybe you should call..." I began, but then couldn't think of any women she'd be willing to talk with.

She nodded. "Aunt Mel? Please. I might as well call Aunt Oona." We both smiled at that. "I called Beth. But that's probably not what you wanted to talk about."

There was a pause between us. She blushed deeply and said, "I'm sorry that you... I'm embarrassed that you saw so much." Her cheeks flamed caramel pink.

"It's been a while," I admitted.

"I wasn't scared or upset," she said. "Not about that. Being so... Visible was, um, very interesting. I'm just sorry if I embarrassed you." So, either she hadn't noticed... Or was she just being polite?

"Did you..." I started to say, but backtracked. "Yeah, it was pretty--interesting for me, too, seeing you in a... different way. I don't mean, like, anything crude. I mean so, uh, grown up and..." Her eyebrows lifted. "...so pretty."

"Are you messing with me?"

"Huh? No, of course not. What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "I guess you'd have to say that because you're my brother."

"What? That you're pretty? Being your brother has nothing to do with it, and you know it. Harrad--next door? He calls Janna means things all the time. He's her brother but he calls her a pig. He says she's fat, even ugly."

Then a thought came to me. "Why? Did he say something to you? If he told you something like that I'll straighten him out." The bite in my voice surprised me, how I suddenly sounded like Dad. That wild protectiveness he had for Mom, I had for Jessie.

"Wait, Cory. It's not like that. Harrad never said anything, though I hate the way he talks to Janna." I nodded. "It's just... I hear guys at school saying, like, 'Ooo, she's a babe,' or, 'She's hot.' You know? Nobody ever says that about me."

"Well, they'd better not harass you," I growled, still in bull mode. "Besides, I think you're..."

"I know, cute. You tell me all the time. It's not the same thing."

"I was going to say beautiful."

"Seriously? You think I'm beautiful?"

"Yeah, definitely. I always, I mean... You are. You're stunning."

"Cory, be straight with me."

"For real. Like oh-my-God gorgeous. Sure, as a kid you were cute. But I can't think of you as a little kid anymore, or as just cute. You're, like, take-my-breath-away beautiful."

"You're just trying to make me feel better. But it's working." She smiled a little. "Too bad nobody else thinks so."

"Then that's their loss. Nobody knows you like I do. And besides, none of those guys have ever seen you..." I shouldn't have started that sentence. Crap, I can't say naked, I thought. The pause was painful and getting longer. "...like I have." That wasn't much better, and I think that I visibly winced.

"In the nude?" she clarified, punching me in the arm. She added slyly, "You liked it, didn't you?"

"Yeah," I admitted, grinning sheepishly. "I'd go skinny-dipping with you again in a heartbeat."

I thought I saw "me too" in her eyes.

# Chapter 21

This was going all the wrong way. I was falling more in love with her every second, and she was responding. My duty to protect her--the whole family--demanded that I put a stop to this, but how? She wouldn't listen to reason. Daniel was right about that.

"Sis," I began, "I have to tell you something."

"Okay, so tell me."

"It's... Something really difficult..."

"You can trust me."

"It's, it's... I'm gay." I avoided her eyes.

What the hell did I just say? Oh shit, now I've really messed this up.

"You're what?"

I doubled down.

"I'm attracted to other guys."

"You are not," she said dismissively.

No, I wasn't, but I had said it. I'd have to either backtrack or run with it. Who knew? Maybe it would work.

"You can't tell anyone."

"Cory, you're not a homosexual."

"Please, Jessie, this is hard enough, okay? Just listen. I think about guys. All the time. I try not to, but I can't help it."

Her mouth hung open as she studied my face. Finally, she gasped, "You're serious?"

"Have I ever lied to you?" Not until now, and it tasted really bad.

"Holy shit, Cory! How long...?"

Dammit, now I had to make up a whole bunch of lies. "Months. I thought it might go away, but it just gets worse."

"Is it someone in particular?"

"No," I said, still unable to meet her gaze.

"Is it Spaz? Are you horny for Spaz?" She was angry. I guessed that was good.

"No, no, not him--please don't do this to me. I feel like scum, and I have this secret, and you're the only person in the world I can trust with it." I did have a secret, and I really did feel like scum. So much so that I started to sob and found I couldn't stop.

I cried for the love we could never have. I bawled for loss of my dreams. But now that I had started down this road there was no turning back. It was my only chance. I was trapped, and totally screwed.

She held me and cried along with me. I knew what that kiss on the neck meant to her, and I knew I was breaking her heart, too. Maybe I should just stop and tell the truth--this was too much to bear. No, I decided, everything depends on me--I can't afford to be weak. We'd come so close earlier, so close to admitting the truth out loud--and then there'd be no stopping the train wreck. I had to save the family, and this was the price we'd have to pay.

"Wait, what about the shower? Didn't you feel it? You said I was beautiful." Oh my God, she did feel it!

"You are beautiful. That doesn't fix my problem."

"Bullshit!" She shoved my shoulder. "You were excited. I saw it."

Now I was mortified, but worse, I was caught, betrayed by my own body.

"I told you, that happens constantly."

She snorted. "Maybe you're bi."

"I don't know. That's not how I feel."

She frowned. "Maybe it's just a phase and it'll pass."

"Maybe, but right now I'm trying to deal with my reality."

"Why are you doing this to me?" she yelled. "What about us? We said I do!"

"I'll always be married to you in my heart, Jessie, but there are things I can't control. You have to help me."

"How?" she demanded. "What do you want from me?"

"Dad. He reads me like a book, and he'll know something's up."

She shrugged. "You could just tell him..."

"No way. I'm not ready for that."

"Whatever. He'll probably know anyway. You're an open book to him."

"You have to promise you won't tell him. Him, or anyone."

She laid her hands in her lap and sighed. "Okay, I promise. You're right, nobody in this little town would accept it. But what'll you say to Dad?"

"I guess I'll have to say the nightmares are worse. That's the only plausible thing I can come up with."

"What about me? He'll know I'm hiding something."

"He doesn't read you as well." I grinned. "Besides, now you're a hormonal teenage girl. There's just no telling how you'll act or feel."

"Gee, thanks, Cory." She crossed her arms. "But you're right, I can probably get away with it."

"I'm so sorry, Jess. I'm sorry to dump this on you. I have nowhere else to turn."

"It's okay. We've always protected each other. I love you, even though you're seriously messed up."

"I am, aren't I? Thanks Jess. I love you, too." I kissed her forehead.

Our eyes finally met, and I felt that jolt again, just as strong as before. I looked away.

"I'm exhausted," I said. "I'm going to bed, okay?"

That night I could hear her crying in her room. She finally fell asleep, and it was safe for me to cry. When Dad came home I had to be quiet.

# Chapter 22

I couldn't eat my breakfast. My intestines writhed like a bag of snakes.

Dad saw that I was in distress, but of course I couldn't tell him my problem. I insisted that I was fine, just a nightmare. He didn't buy it, not for a second, and instead of going to school he took me to the emergency room. I told them I was fine, too, and of course they found nothing wrong.

After that, they brought a therapist to talk to me. She was clever and persistent, and asked me about Dad, school, friends and then Jessie. That worried me, so I told her how devastated I was by the fire and losing Mom. It was true, it hadn't even been a year. I concentrated on losing Jessie to make myself cry. That was genuine, and she didn't dig further.

She asked if I ever felt like hurting or killing myself. The obvious, if dishonest answer was no. There wasn't any point in talking about it. As attractive as the idea seemed, it just wasn't an option.

My misdirection worked. I could hear her talking to Dad in the hallway.

"I think that your son is having a delayed grief response," she told him.

Dad let out a heavy sigh. "The fire and loss of his mom were really traumatic for him. The burns, the pain, the broken arm... I can't even imagine what he went through. I'm not surprised that he's still struggling with it. He has really bad nightmares."

"You should watch for signs of depression."

He sighed. "I know exactly what to look for. I have to fight that every day."

"Are you getting help for it?"

"Yeah, but some days it's still hard to get out of bed. If it wasn't for my kids I'd probably just give up."

I couldn't tell if Jessie was playing her part, or really went insane. She became withdrawn, sullen, and moody. I tried to talk to her in private, when Dad wasn't home, but she shut me out.

"Leave me alone, you fucking faggot!" she hissed. "You make me sick!"

Everything I said and did, no matter how well intended, was taken badly. She picked fights with me, even with Dad. She swore and threw things. The house was in an uproar for days. Then she'd be happy and fine, as if nothing had happened. The next day it started all over again.

I used to help her practice her martial arts. I was terrible, but that's what made it funny. Now it wasn't fun, and I gave up when I started getting bruises.

One time during an argument with Dad, she said she wished that we hadn't adopted her, that it had ruined her life. She kicked her bedroom door closed so hard she put her foot through it. I think that was the only time she was contrite. But she wasn't even sorry about the broken door exactly, she apologized for using her skills in anger.

Dad talked her through measuring and buying a new door with her allowance. He instructed and supervised while she measured and cut notches for hinges, and drilled the holes for the handle and latch. The only thing he did was to slip the pins in place when she hung the door.

That night Dad had a long talk with Jessie in her room. I laid by the heat vent and overheard as much as I could. They discussed hormones and different kinds of birth control. They agreed on some kind of shots. He said he was going to take her to the doctor, but that got a bad reaction. In the end, Beth's mom took her.

No matter how awful and nasty she acted, though, my feelings for her never changed. I was desperately in love with her. She haunted my every minute, and my hormones didn't help matters at all. I worried because my attraction was now powerfully sexual as well as romantic.

It was one issue that I loved her with all my soul. But I lusted for her, and I hated that part of me. What if I was a danger to her? What if one night I just went crazy and attacked her? What really made me any different from those boys at the orphanage?

I started reading about psychology, and how abnormal my feelings were. If ever acted on them, I'd be a molester. I also read how being molested affected the victims. I could never do that to Jessie--she had already survived so much. I'd sooner kill myself than ever harm her. Much sooner.

But when I thought about her, which was constantly, my insides hurt like getting kneed in the groin with every heartbeat. I couldn't sleep, and was exhausted all the time.

Sometimes in class, when I couldn't concentrate on the subject, I'd write lists of all the things I hated about myself, then tear them up into tiny pieces and throw them away. I fantasized about suicide, how I'd do it so that it looked like an accident, because that'd be easier for Dad and Jess to get over.

At home, I burned myself with matches just to feel a pain that I could cope with, a pain I could control. I did it at the edges of the scars on my left forearm, where the pain was sharp but the marks barely noticeable. I knew it was crazy, but it brought relief for a minute.

The nights... The nights were unspeakable. I ached with the need to wake Jessie up, admit that I had lied, and tell her how I truly felt. I'd stand at my bedroom door, sometimes for half an hour, just shaking with anxiety.

I went back to bed eventually. In my fantasies, though, I'd wake her and she'd return my feelings, and that was worst outcome of all. Scandal, our family destroyed. By then I'd spent hours researching psychological trauma, laws about under-age sex and statutory rape. I knew the stakes, and I couldn't risk any of that. I was her big brother, and I'd protect her.

Even from me.

Especially from me.

# Chapter 23

By spring I was definitely going nuts. My grades had tanked--I was falling asleep in class. I'd grown half an inch taller, but lost three pounds--I had no appetite. I stood at the payphone outside Miller's Market.

"Collect call for Daniel from Cory Laine. Will you accept the charges?"

"Yep."

"Please go ahead with your call."

"Hi, Daniel?"

"Hey, kid. Collect, huh? Are you in trouble?"

"I hope it's okay. I didn't want Dad to see it on the phone bill."

"I've been expectin' yer call for a long time now. Catch me up."

"It got serious."

"You two didn't do anything...?"

"Not like that. I went and looked up the laws. Why didn't you warn me?"

"Thought ya knew that part."

"I figured it was weird," I looked around. "But Daniel, I don't want to go to prison."

"So, you know what the real trouble is, huh?"

"Yes." I squirmed and kicked the dirt with the toe of my shoe. "I mean, no, that's only part of it."

"Whatcha mean?"

"I feel..." I looked around again to make sure nobody was listening. "More than a brother is supposed to feel."

"Gotcher hormones goin'?"

This was hard to admit, even to him. "Oh, man, you have no idea."

"Uh-huh, yeah, I figured that might be the problem."

Another quick look around. "I told her I'm gay."

"You told her what?" he groaned. "Oh, kid..."

"No, it worked. Now she thinks she's keeping my secret."

"How's she takin' things?"

A car approached, and I waited until it passed.

"She doesn't know about the laws, but you were right--she wouldn't care. I think she hates me for breaking her heart. I can't blame her."

"That's prob'ly a good thing. Kinda gits you off the hook. Yer a lot safer--yer both a lot safer--if she hates you right now."

"Yeah, I get that. My head does at least, but Daniel, I'm going crazy. I haven't been able to eat or sleep for months. I can't think about anything but her. I feel like my guts are going to explode."

"Aw, kid..."

I looked at my arm. "Daniel, I'm burning myself. I can't stop."

Daniel sighed into the receiver. "It's hard, kid, I know. Butcha gotta hold on, 'cuz now you know what's at stake. Fer you, her, an' yer dad."

"I understand--I've gotta protect them!" I was almost weeping. "What am I gonna do?"

"Well, you two're due to fly out in a couple weeks..."

Yeah, soon as school let out for the summer. "Uh-huh..."

"Yeah, mebbee I only got room fer one of yeh t' come visit."

"I don't get it."

"I can't really bring just you--that'd burn her hide. But I could take her outa yer hair for a couple months--while yah gitcher poop in a group."

"Oh..."

"Yeah, s'matter of fact, the air's bad here--we've had a lotta brush fires--prob'ly too unhealthy fer your twitchy lungs."

"But..."

"But nuthin' kid. It'll be good fer ya to spend some time with yer dad, jus' you guys."

"I guess. Do you think Dad'll go for it?"

"Well, I'm real concerned about yer health, and he might understand you wantin' a break from her comp'ny, given yer age?"

"Maybe." I looked over my shoulder, but the lot was still deserted.

"In the meantime, avoid 'er as much as y'can. Spend time at yer friend's place. Hide if you hafta."

I licked my lips. At least it was a plan. "Okay. I can do that."

"That's some right thinkin', kid. You'll be okay. Butcha gotta stick by yer story now no matter what. Are we straight?"

"Yeah, we're straight."

"You mess it up when she comes home, and the shit'll hit the fan fer sure."

"I know. Daniel? Thanks. Can I call you again if I need to?"

He chuckled. "You kin call me whenever ya want."

"Thanks, Daniel."

"It's gonna be okay, kid."

"Okay. Bye."

# Chapter 24

Most Saturday mornings, Dad and I would sit in the truck outside the gym--the dojo--and wait while Jessie took her karate lessons. I liked to watch her through the big front windows. With a pop and a coffee, we'd talk about politics or other big things. I was thinking about those old photos in the album. One in particular had stuck in my head.

It was a shot of Dad and a couple of his friends. He was in uniform, leaning against his patrol car, listening to one of the others. It was the look on his face that wouldn't leave me. It showed no stress, no worry, and no sadness.

"Dad, do you every miss being on patrol?"

He studied me. "Why do you ask?"

"You seemed happier then."

He looked at me for a long time before answering. "I enjoyed working as a Deputy."

"But you saw the evil side of people."

"Cory, the vast majority of life isn't some cosmic struggle between good and evil, like you see in the movies or comic books. Mostly it's just people whose main problem is how they deal with problems. Most people are struggling, and some are just less well equipped, so they make poor choices. I never blamed them, but it was my job to deal with the behavior."

"But all that stuff, it made you happy?"

"Yeah, actually. I was good at it. My favorite part was helping folks, and I miss working with people face-to-face."

"Then why did you quit?"

He winced. "Look, Son, what you do for a living isn't who you're as a person. Before everything else, I'm your father, and you already lost your mom. I need to do something less risky."

He paused.

"I think you're right, though. I'm not as happy as I used to be, but I don't think it's the job. I know how you miss your Mom. I miss your mother, too." He inhaled slowly. "But I miss my wife more than I can say."

I thought of how he had made that distinction so savagely before. The intensity still seemed to radiate from him still. "Losing her made me so sad that it changed how my brain works. That's why I have to take medication. It helps, but no, I've never been quite the same. Truth is that the county wouldn't take me back now anyway."

"I'm sorry I brought it up."

"It's okay, Son. You didn't do anything wrong." Yes, I had, and I was too scared to tell him. It wasn't just my carelessness or even my choice to leave Mom behind, but that I'd kept it from him all this time... I was a liar and a coward. I knew how Dad would feel about that.

Jessie walked out, and I slid over to make room for her on the front seat.

"Hi, Bug. How did it go?"

"A blast, as usual. It makes me feel superhuman. I wish I could keep that feeling inside me all week."

Dad put the truck into gear and we clattered down the potholed street. I accidently caught Jessie's icy glance and quickly looked away.

"Well, kids... As the Judge says, I have good news and bad news this morning. I talked to him last night, and he's been looking forward to you visiting--for the whole summer this time."

Jessie grinned.

"But the weather has been bad there--lots of dust and smoke, and they're predicting a really bad pollen problem this summer."

"That's okay, Daddy, we can..." She glanced at me. "Oh."

"So, I can't go?"

"I'm sorry, Son. At least not right away--it'll depend on conditions."

"Fine with me," Jessie muttered.

# Chapter 25

That summer, Dad borrowed a friend's Hobie Cat and taught me how to sail. He taught me to use the power tools in the basement workshop, even dangerous ones like the radial saw and band saw. We played chess, but he never let me win. I had to earn every victory.

He was curious about what I did with Spaz and what I watched on TV, but unlike some parents, he didn't try to act cool or be my friend. He wasn't even being nosey or trying to catch me at something. He was genuinely enthusiastic. He even made a point to read the same books I read. My favorite was _The Dove_ , about a sixteen-year-old who sails around the world alone.

When he was at work, I'd build things to sell in the local gift shops, decorative stuff like brightly painted ore ships and lighthouses, and coin banks that looked like log cabins. My specialty was the sailboats. Tourists bought them to put over their fireplaces back at home.

For me, the summer was weird, the house so empty without Jessie. I took the pillow from her bed and traded it for mine. It made me smile because it smelled like her. I missed her so much it hurt. Being around her was torture, but being apart was agony.

Spaz came over on weekdays, but spent almost every weekend at his dad's. Sometimes Janna would come over and hang out, but we really didn't have much in common. Jody showed up a couple times--always when Dad was at work. We played chess and watched TV, but she seemed nervous and fidgeted a lot.

I invited my friend Jeremy to spend the night. He brought his Nintendo and we stayed up late playing games. He admitted that he was jealous of me because he wanted Jody to like him instead.

"I don't think she likes me like that, Jer," I told him.

"Yeah, she does. Everyone knows it," he said, plugging in a new game cartridge.

"I doubt it. I'm seriously ugly."

"Sure are, but I don't think she cares."

"Huh. She does act kind of weird around me." The last thing I wanted was a girlfriend. "Have you told her how you feel?"

"No way, Cor. She'd probably just laugh at me."

"Well, do you want me to tell her?" Let them get together and leave me out of it.

"Would you? I mean, if it comes up or something."

After Dad went to bed we went back to my room. Jeremy got his backpack and pulled out some Playboy and Penthouse magazines. It was fascinating and exciting. None of the pictures were as beautiful as my memory of Jessie in the shower, but looking at them made me hard and tingly.

After a while Jeremy asked if I wanted to "whack off" together. I told him that didn't sound appealing.

"Aw, c'mon, I won't tell anyone." He nudged me. "You know you want to."

"Really, no thanks."

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, do you want to watch?"

I flinched. "Not even a little."

"I could watch you..."

"Tell you what," I told him. "You take your favorite blonde there into the bathroom and I'll go to the kitchen for a couple more pops."

I prayed that Jeremy wouldn't tell anyone about me looking at the magazines. If it got back to Jess she might guess I'd lied about being gay.

The next day was Dad's day off. He told me he needed help with an errand. That was unusual--I sensed something was up. I waited with my stomach in a wringer while Dad filled his pockets. I guess that's what you do when you're too old to carry a backpack. He grabbed his keys from the counter and asked, "Are you ready?"

Panic nibbled at the back of my brain. "For what?"

"Road trip." This didn't make any sense, and it did nothing to calm me.

He locked the back door as we left.

"Where are we going?"

"Green Bay."

He eased the big truck out of the driveway.

"That's two hours away. Why would we go there?"

"We need to pick up a couple things, and I thought I'd take you along. Maybe give us some time to talk, just you and me. About last night."

That's what I feared.

I tried pleading ignorance.

"What about it?"

"I overheard something about some magazines. And you were interested in the pictures?"

"Well, I..." I was caught. There was no weaseling out of this. "Yeah, okay, I was pretty interested."

"Good. That's normal. You're thirteen. I'd worry if you weren't at least a little curious. And I'm proud of you."

"You are?"

"Yes, I am. Your friend put you in a situation of peer pressure, one you weren't comfortable with, and you handled it very maturely. It's reassuring to me that you were adult enough to say no."

What kind of super hearing does this man have?

"I guess I'm glad that I said no, then."

"Look, Cory, I've always told you kids that your bodies are your own. What you do with it is your business, not mine. And if you'd wanted to masturbate with your friend, that's also your business." I cringed. "Whatever you guys did and talked about is perfectly normal. Unless something's unhealthy or harmful, you're allowed to figure things out. You're allowed to be who you are."

"Okay," I said, immensely relieved, and anxious to change the subject. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Son, I need to tell you, I have a real problem with pornography. It's like big-time wrestling or comic books about superheroes. You have to understand that it has nothing to do with real life."

"They looked pretty real."

"Of course, professional wrestlers are real people, too. They eat and breathe and act like people want them to, but the image you see isn't the real person."

"Yeah, it's just a role they play. I get that. Same thing with... The magazines, then?"

"Yes, but porn is worse. It treats women as if they were things."

"But they're so beautiful..." I didn't mean to say that.

"So is a sculpture, so is a toy. Those are objects to own and enjoy. You don't treat people like things."

"Even if they're willing, like pro wrestlers? Why's that bad?"

He glanced at me. "What do you think those girls are really like?"

"What do you mean?"

"Would you trust them to hold your wallet? Do they have healthy self-respect? Are they kind or mean?"

"I... I have no idea." I shrugged. "I just liked looking at them."

"So, you didn't care anything about them as people." He had me there. "That's the worst part. Pornography takes sex out of context. Sex, the best sex, is part of a loving relationship. Posing naked isn't about love, and looking at naked strangers isn't about love. I think sex is too important to be trivialized that way."

"I still don't understand. If it's so bad, why did it make me feel good?"

"Sometimes things that feel good aren't good for us. Drinking used to make me feel good."

"Ohhh." This was a more serious conversation than I thought. "Okay. Slippery slope?"

"That's right, Son. I'm not mad at you, but I have to tell you when I think something is unhealthy. I expect that you'll see plenty more pictures of naked women before you're grown. I'm not going to search your room, but I can't promise your sister won't."

Good point. I couldn't risk her finding porn in my room, unless it was gay porn. I sighed.

"Oh, and I probably don't need to say this, but the no-search policy goes out the window if I suspect you might be drinking, smoking, or doing drugs. I wouldn't tolerate that."

"No worries there, Dad." None of those things had ever seemed attractive to me.

"Anyway, like anything else about sex, looking at porn is something you can only decide for yourself, but now you know how I feel."

"So, does that mean that you're not going to drive out to an onion field, blow my brains out, and bury me?"

Dad burst into laughter, loud in inside the cab, as if it came from his toes and all the way through his body, disarming and contagious. Okay, so my question was a little melodramatic, but it wasn't really that funny. I was tired of my whole life being melodramatic.

Seeing him like that, though... It made me happy way down deep. Then it clicked, how often I'd heard that sound before, and how long ago it'd been. I realized how much I'd missed it, how much I'd missed him.

The morning sun glinted over whitecaps, backlighting Dad as he drove down M35. The wind rushing by the truck was filled with the scent of lake water, warm pine trees, and occasional road kill. Summer bugs and mosquitoes accumulated on the windshield.

It was a few miles before he spoke. I watched his face as he talked. He seemed to be struggling for words.

"Actually, given a choice, you might prefer the onion field, I guess. Anyway," he continued, "that brings me to point of this trip. Protection."

It didn't click at first. Protection from what? Why did he look so...?

"What?! Oh geez!" I writhed inside. This wasn't a topic I felt like discussing with my father, not trapped in a vehicle for the next couple of hours! "But Dad, you already... and I'm not having sex!"

"I didn't say you were."

"Then why?"

"Because someday you will. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but then again, who knows? Your sister's friend Jody seems pretty interested in you. She's smart and good-looking." He looked at me, and I wished I could die on the bench next to him.

"Dad! I don't like Jody that way, and..."

"Sorry, I promised myself I wouldn't tease you. I want you to trust me on this, and I apologize."

"Accepted, I guess. So why now?"

"Because now you're curious, so I know your hormones have kicked in. Hormones are crazy, powerful things. They have their own agenda. They don't care much about logic or reason, and they're notoriously impatient."

"But Dad, I'm not going to..."

"This isn't all about you, Son." I sighed. That phrase again.

"Look, Cory, someday I might be a grandpa, but I'm not in a hurry. No way. And I refuse to be a grandpa just because I failed to do educate you. I'm going to talk to you like I wish someone had been able to talk to me."

"Okay, Dad," I yielded. "I'm squirming, but I'm listening."

His booming laugh filled the cab again. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm squirming, too." This time I had to laugh along.

"First, you know that wearing a condom can prevent diseases."

"We already talked about that." I remembered how I thought I'd be scarred for life when Dad used the banana to show me how they work.

"They drill that into you kids now. No pun intended." This was horrible. I giggled nervously. "And it protects your, uh, your partner from getting pregnant. I know you've learned the basic stuff in school, how reproduction works, so I'll try not to rehash anything. We just need to talk about some of the practical stuff."

"Okay."

"Sex--by that I mean everything from kissing to, well, everything else--is supposed to be an expression of love. But some guys think of having sex as an event. And some girls think of sex as babies. Maybe they want one, or think they do, or even want one subconsciously. There are a hundred reasons why, but the motives don't matter for this discussion. They'll tell you that they're on the pill or have an IUD, that they've had their tubes tied, or that they're infertile."

"But it might be a lie?"

"Right, you can't let her vouch for herself, no matter how much you want to believe what she says."

"Okay, but then who do you trust?"

"It's not about trust--it's about responsibility. You're liable for the choices you make, and accountable for the consequences. Okay, what's the first rule of handling firearms?"

"Uh, always assume a weapon's loaded, so never point it at someone."

"Unless?"

"What? Um, gee, unless you're willing to shoot them, I guess. So... Never have sex unless you are willing to have a kid?"

He chuckled. "Well, that'd be the ultimate rule, I guess. That's abstinence, and it's the only completely reliable method. I meant never have sex without a condom... unless you're dead certain you want a baby."

"Oh, okay, that makes more sense."

"If you don't use one, it's the same as consciously deciding to father a kid. Or twins or even triplets," he added with a wicked smile.

"Yikes."

"Remember, no solution's perfect. That's why couples need to talk about the options if it fails. If a couple agrees that's adequate, they're each--individually--deliberately and consciously deciding that getting pregnant is okay if it happens. Besides, Son, people change, and lovers can be unfaithful. In the end, it's a duty to yourself. You're the only person responsible for your choices."

"Jeremy showed me one he carries in his wallet."

"Yeah, do that sometimes. Even in the box they eventually expire, and they don't last long if you squash it every time you sit down. Also, you can't store them where it's hot, like in your pocket. They could be weakened and end up tearing. You don't want that.

"Cory, you know that using a condom is the safe and responsible thing to do. But protecting yourself and your partner isn't always enough of a motivator in the heat of the moment."

"Because of the hormones?"

"Right. You might need additional motivation."

"Like what?"

"Use one because when a woman has your sperm, she has you by the balls."

I winced. Sperm. I hated that word. "Can we say DNA?"

"Okay, that's fine."

"I assume you're not speaking literally?"

He grinned. "Might as well be. Once a woman has your, uh, DNA, all your rights are gone."

"What are you talking about?"

"If a girl has your DNA, she holds all the cards. If she gets pregnant, she may or may not tell you about it--you might never even know. She could just have an abortion. It's not up to you, and no matter how much you may have wanted that kid, you have no say in the decision. None.

"Or she could give up the child for adoption. She doesn't have to list you on the birth certificate, and again, you might never know. And what if you did know you had a kid out there in the world? One that you might've loved but will never meet? A son or daughter that you never got to hold, and will never know? That'd be torture." He was quiet for a little bit.

"On the other hand, she might decide to keep it. Again, it's her choice to tell you or not. But say she does name you as the father. Now you have a big financial obligation--for about twenty years. It'll cost you more than a Cadillac, or a house, or a master's degree. Even if you go bankrupt, you'll still owe all the money.

"Don't misconstrue me, Son, there's nothing wrong with supporting your child. It's the only honorable thing to do. But do you know what you get in return, other than a warm feeling in your heart? Nothing. You aren't guaranteed any visitation. She might not even tell you where she lives. You might never see that kid. You pay your money but have no rights, and she can take a cruise with the cash. It may not be fair, but that's the way it is."

"No worries. You've convinced me, Dad."

"What's your motivation?"

"To... Be responsible, not die of syphilis, and to protect my, uh, DNA."

"Good. But it's not enough to use a condom, Cory. You have to use it correctly, and don't take chances. Okay, I'm just warning you--I'm going to be explicit. These are the rules." He took a deep breath.

"One, bring your own, so you know that it's good quality, and that it's not damaged. Two, put it on as soon as you're hard. Three, be careful of teeth, nails, or jewelry that could tear it. Four, when you're done, make sure it doesn't slip off. Five, keep control of your DNA. Don't leave a used condom where anybody has access to it. Wrap it in a tissue and flush it, or wash it out with soap before you throw it away. You got all that?"

My face burned, but I repeated them back, twisting at every word.

"Um, I have a couple questions."

"Excellent, go ahead."

"Teeth?"

"Use your hands, not your teeth to rip open the package. Plus, oral sex."

"I know what that is, a blowjob, right?" I said that to see his reaction. He just gave me a little smile. "But why would you need one for that? Even I know you can't get pregnant that way."

"Syphilis, herpes, hepatitis... There's a long list. Shall I go on?"

"No thanks, I'm good with that. Um, Dad? Why's it called that? Do they like, fill your bladder with air or something?"

"No, that'd be unhealthy, and probably pretty painful. Blowjob's just a slang term." And now he'd said it. This was a really strange conversation.

"Um, what did you mean it might be damaged?"

"A pin or a needle through the middle of the package, for example."

I stared at him. "You're kidding me."

"I'm afraid not. Remember, your lover may be trying for a baby."

I looked at him skeptically. "It doesn't seem like a pinhole would make much difference."

"Think about it this way... You're, um, releasing two hundred million very active DNA cells, all with only one thing on their minds, and it only takes one to get through..."

"Yeah, not good odds."

"It's a very efficient system that's evolved over millions of years. Amazing, really. Good, what else?"

"No." I shook my head. "I'm too embarrassed."

"You're not going to shock me, Son. It helps me a lot if you ask."

"Why put it on right away?"

"When you're excited, DNA can leak out."

"Oh." I looked out the window, and then back at him. "Dad? I've seen those machines in men's rooms..."

"Stay away from the novelty stuff, a lot of it is junk. I'd stick to name brand--it's not a place to get cheap. You want ones with reservoir end. That also helps keep them from tearing."

"The one you used, um, when you showed me? It had, like gel all over it. Wouldn't it slip off?" An hour ago, I couldn't have imagined asking my Dad anything like that.

"The lube is for the outside. It should have spermicide in it--just an extra layer of safety. There are other foams and creams that have spermicide, but you never want to trust them alone. You can buy condoms without the gel, but you still need to add lube once it's on. That also helps the condom not to tear."

"Lube? Like Vaseline?"

"No, no. That's not good to use. Neither is hand cream or anything like that. That can weaken the plastic, and can really sting. Use something water-based, like KY Jelly--that's the kind of thing it's made for. The good condoms are Latex, the stuff they use for balloons or safety gloves. Don't use the "natural" type. They're more expensive and less reliable. Probably the most important thing is to experiment until you find a kind that feels good."

"I thought the most important thing was protection."

"If it feels right, you'll actually use it." That made sense.

"But what happens if it does tear? How do you keep your, um, DNA safe then?"

"That's why both people need to be responsible."

We talked all about different kinds of protection girls used, most of which I'd overheard when he talked to Jessie. Diaphragms, IUDs, shots and pills. This was amazing. I learned more in an hour of driving than in all my sex ed classes combined. I searched for any other questions.

"This's going to sound stupid, but couldn't you just, uh, stop before you, I mean, before..." I couldn't say it.

"That's called coitus interruptus--it's Latin for "stop screwing." We both had to laugh at that one. "Okay, obviously, that'd be useless for disease, and pretty unreliable as birth control. There's also the rhythm method, where you have sex according to your partner's monthly cycle, when she's least likely to get pregnant."

"That sounds just as lame."

"It is."

"So, the only sure methods are abstinence or a vasectomy?"

"Well... Vasectomies can come undone."

"Geez, Dad, I'm afraid to ask, but how come you know so much about this subject?"

"Son, I've been preparing for this talk your whole life."

# Chapter 26

On the outskirts of Green Bay, we pulled into the parking lot of a big chain drug store.

"So, what'd you need my help picking up?"

"What do you think we're getting?"

I sat there clueless until...

"Oh my God, no." I cringed. "Why'd we come all the way here?"

"It gave us time to talk. Why? Did you want to go to Miller's Market? It's just blocks from home, and Mrs. Miller is such a nice lady, and so talkative. She just chats with everybody. I'm sure she'd be delighted if we went there instead."

A chill went down my spine, making my shoulders twitch. "Okay, you made your point Dad."

"Come on then."

I looked around the lot--not many cars. At least the place wasn't jammed with people. He handed me some bills.

"Why so much?" I asked.

"You'll see"

"I had no idea they'd be so expensive."

He grabbed a cart and headed for the health and beauty aids section, family planning aisle. It was a much bigger display than I expected.

"Don't look at me," he said. "This is the part you need to do."

I hesitated.

"Afraid you'll get caught?" he asked.

Yes, but I realized that was silly.

"Wait, this's legal, right? You're not contributing to the delinquency of a minor, are you?"

"No, it's legal," he said, but I still hesitated. "Next time you're going to have to do this alone, but today I've got your back. If we get company, I'll give you a heads-up. You might decide to look for deodorant--it's right behind you." I glanced at both sides of the aisle. I felt ridiculous.

One of the packages said "Large" and another read "Snug Fit". After some deliberation, I decided snug would probably be appropriate. I put it in the cart, relieved that was over.

Dad smiled. "Good."

"Cool. Can we go now?"

"Well, I'm thinking that it's a long drive here, not one I'd want to make very often. You should get more, several kinds."

"Why would I want so many? They do have a shelf life, right?"

"You can't reuse them, and it's not as if they cost a fortune. Not compared to having a kid, at least. I'd much rather have you throw them out when they expire than ever hesitate to use one. And for now, I want you to practice with as many as it takes to be confident. You know, figure out what you like."

"Dad!" I hissed. "We're not alone in the truck now!"

He lowered is voice. "Oh sorry."

He pointed to a package of lube-free. What the hell, I thought, I'll try them all. I took six boxes of different kinds and sizes from the rack, and even threw a tube of lubricant in the cart. Dad nodded his approval. It looked like we were off to spend a week at a brothel.

In the next aisle, he helped me pick out a razor. It wasn't like I'd need that anytime soon, but it was kind of manly and cool.

Instead of heading for the registers, he turned the cart toward the housewares section. Now what? He picked up a box of small, black trashcan liners.

"What are those for?" I asked.

"The wastebasket in your room. The regular ones, when they're out in the trash, you can see right through them." I was duly impressed. He had this all planned out.

"Now go scout yourself a register. Preferably a male, the older, the better."

The second lane seemed perfect. The man at the till had white hair and a friendly face. I turned around, but Dad had left the cart with me and disappeared. Scanning the area, I saw him waiting for me on the far side of the checkout. Oh, okay, I get the full experience.

The cashier acted totally unfazed. I may as well have been buying TV dinners. "Paper or plastic?" he asked. Latex, I thought.

"Paper, please." At least that's opaque.

# Chapter 27

Safely back in the truck, I gave him a hug. "Thank you, Dad."

"I want to make sure you understand. I'm not giving you my permission or encouragement to go out and get laid. I consider these for educational purposes only. On the other hand, I'm not stupid enough to think you'd ever seek my permission, so if you need to, you sure as hell better use one."

"Okay, fair enough. Why are they one-time use? Couldn't you just wash them?"

"Not safe. It only takes one DNA cell to fertilize an egg."

"But even for, uh, educational purposes?"

"Yes, even for that. I don't want you to get in any bad habits. There's a Drugco in Marquette. In a week, a month, whatever, we'll drive up and I'll wait outside if you want. The other option is to go to the one at home and blow your friends' minds."

I laughed at the thought of showing Spaz my new stash.

We rode in silence for a few minutes.

"Dad? You said you wish someone had told you about this stuff. How did you learn? I mean, when you were my age?"

"I didn't. My family never talked about relationships or how to grow up or anything like that. That's why I've tried to let you kids know how I feel about things, and the real facts as you seem ready for them." He smiled. "My family said, 'don't do anything, and don't even ask.' All I knew is what I heard on the schoolyard, and most of that was wrong."

I pictured him as a teen. "When did you get your first kiss?"

"I was fifteen."

"What was her name?"

He watched the road for a minute. "A gentleman doesn't tell."

"How old were you when you first... I mean, when you lost..."

He sighed. "Older than you. Why do you want to know? Just curious, or do you have some plans?"

I laughed. "No way. I've never even kissed a girl." That was a lie, and I figured that he'd caught it, but he just smiled.

"I'll tell you," he said, "that I waited until I found someone I was deeply in love with. Like I said, physical intimacy is something that's best when it happens in a loving relationship."

"So, people who have one-night stands, are they bad?"

"No, of course not. I could never do it. I'm just not wired that way. But I'm sure sex with someone you want to be with can be good. I guess if you feel okay about yourself afterwards, and it's consensual... But Cory, sharing sex with someone you love is beyond amazing."

He looked serious. "Son, you and I understand mechanical things. We like to know how things work, and what to do. That was the mechanical half of our talk on the way down. I guess there are some other practical things I should tell you."

"Like what?"

"With kissing, and other--um--expressions of love... Do you understand what consent is?"

"Yeah, giving permission."

"When you do get around to kissing a girl, and everything after that, make sure you have her consent, her active and enthusiastic consent. That's important."

"Active and enthusiastic sounds good..."

"Take things slow when you try anything new. Chances are that whatever you want to do, she's as nervous as you are. So, don't coerce her in any way. No matter how bad you want to just act, never assume going further is okay. Communicate what you want before doing anything new, and be ready to back off."

"What do you mean by communicate?"

"I mean talk. Ask permission."

"Seriously? Like 'May I kiss you, please?' That just sounds weird."

"How about 'I really like you. Can I kiss your forehead? Can I kiss your cheek? Can I kiss your lips?' Is that better?"

"A little, I guess."

"Make it a game. Consent can be fun and sexy. But she has to say yes out loud. A nod, a wink, or a giggle doesn't mean yes. If she can't do that, then she's hesitant, and it's the same as no. Only yes means yes, and again, if she wants to stop, respect her wishes and back off."

"I understand."

"And the same thing applies to you. If you aren't comfortable with what another person wants to do, you have the right to stop anytime. But I guess you already know that. With things beyond kissing, it's best to talk before acting--you know, like with your clothes still on."

"Dad!"

"I'm serious. Talk about what you want to do, and how much you're comfortable with. Knowing each other's expectations, your comfort zones, ahead of time makes things a lot more pleasant. Also, talk about the what-ifs. What if your birth control failed? How do you feel about abortion, adoption, or becoming a parent?"

He was getting way ahead of me, but it felt cool that he thought I was mature enough to understand it now. Something about what he said didn't sound right.

"That sounds like it'd be really hard to do. I mean all this stuff about taking it slow--it sounds unnatural. Don't most people just, you know, go with the flow?"

"It is difficult. Hormones are a natural thing, but you have to be in control of them, not the other way around. It takes maturity. If you can't do it right, then you aren't ready yet. People who just 'go with the flow' often end up hurting the person they love. And I'll tell you, Son, there is nothing in the world as bad as hurting someone you love."

"Yeah, I know." That came out a little too earnest, and earned me a quizzical look. "I mean, I can imagine."

"Anything you'd like to talk about, Son? We're on a roll."

I looked out the window so he couldn't see my face. Stay calm, I told myself. Steer away from danger. I wanted to keep him talking instead of asking questions, but I had to think a few long seconds to come up with something.

"How do you know when you're in love, Dad?"

"That's easy." I heard the smile in his voice. "When you think of someone all the time and want to spend every moment with them, you're in love. When just thinking of her makes your heart beat fast. That part is the infatuation, the obsession of being in love."

"What makes it happen?"

"That's a mystery. Nobody knows why it comes and it goes. You have to recognize it's a gift--you can't earn it, you can't control it, and you can't keep it. You can only welcome it when it visits you, enjoy it when you have it, and let it go when it's gone."

"What do you mean when it's gone?"

"There are lots of kinds of love. Being "in love" is just one--it's intense, but usually doesn't last."

"But you and Mom were in love. A long time."

"Yes, we were. At first it was almost every minute of every day. As we got used to the feeling it wasn't as all-consuming."

I was sure I could never get used to how I felt about Jess.

"How could being in love ever feel... Normal?" I held my breath, wondering if I had revealed too much. He just checked his mirrors.

"Adapting is something we humans are amazing at. Given a little time we can become used to almost anything—riches or poverty, cold or heat, happy or sad. After a while almost anything can seem normal."

"Okay, so being--in love--is like having a crush."

"Right, but while you're in that state, you can't entirely trust your feelings. You see in the other person what you want to see, not necessarily who she really is. It takes months or even years to be sure it's real love, the kind that lasts."

"How long did it take you and Mom?"

"Well, on rare occasions you do know right from the start. That's how it was with your Mom and me. We both knew. Later--when the infatuation wore off--we found little things that annoyed us about each other. That was okay, though. Nobody's perfect. You have to love a person, faults and all."

"Huh, an old guy said that to me once." It sounded like my feelings for Sis were the real thing. I was screwed.

"So, what else have you got?" he challenged.

"No, I'm way too embarrassed." I looked away and fiddled with the window crank.

"Nothing's off limits here--now or any other time. You can always talk to me in private. I'll never judge you, make fun of you, or betray your trust. On Mom's grave, I promise."

That almost took my breath away. He had never invoked that vow, and I knew that what he said had to be ironclad. For just a moment, I thought about telling him how I felt about Jessie, but that was too scary. He sensed my hesitation and glanced at me. I'd have to throw him off.

"Well, okay... I'm dying to know what it's like." He glanced at me again, unsure. "What sex's like, but I'm not sure I want to hear about it from you. No offense?"

"None taken." He looked as uncomfortable as I felt. "That took a lot of courage, and I admire that." He absently stroked his beard.

"You know how they show romance all dramatic on TV and in the movies? Real sex is different. The best metaphor I can think of is basketball."

"I don't get it."

"Watching a sexy movie or looking at porn is like watching the Pistons play on TV. Sure, they're real people, but they're physically different from average people, and have trained for years to make the nearly impossible look easy. Actors and athletes are fun to watch, but don't make the mistake of comparing yourself to them.

"Real sex is more like playing one on one in your driveway, and no, I'm not advocating sex outdoors. I mean that it's active, it's physical and intimate. Like sports, real sex can leave you sweaty and breathless, and takes practice to get better at it. It's fun and feels good, and takes your mind off everything else. Does that make any sense?"

"Yeah, kinda."

He frowned, then grinned. "I could tell you what you might expect when you do decide to have sex."

"Okay, that sounds interesting. No personal anecdotes, though."

"Yeah, no problem there." He pondered some more. "For most guys, it doesn't happen like they plan, and it's sometimes embarrassing. A guy's body will be full of adrenalin. That can make you feel nervous or even scared."

I thought of the night before Jess and I flew to Colorado, and how excited and terrified I had felt. Just recalling it made me shiver, but he didn't seem to notice and continued talking.

"Most guys are too worried about doing it right. Your, um, body might not work as well as when you're alone, or it might be over quick. Sometimes it makes one of you pass gas. Oh, and it can be messy."

"Gee, thanks, Dad, you sure know how to paint a picture with words. But how do you know if you're doing it right?"

"There's no one right way--every couple has to figure that out. Sometimes it's serious and intense, and sometimes slow and romantic. Sometimes it makes you so happy you start laughing, and everything in between. It should be fun, and make you feel closer to each other. If it's consensual and you both feel good about it, you're doing it right."

"But the first time is bad?"

He took his eyes off the road to look at me and smiled.

"I don't think it'll be like that for you." He checked his mirrors again. "You're a good guy, gentle and kind. You're smart. You'll make sure there's plenty of time and privacy. It'll be with someone who enthusiastically wants to be intimate with you, someone you love and trust. And it'll be something that you both decided you're ready for. You'll be using birth control, so you won't be worried about that. If you can't relax and even laugh about it, it might not be the right time. But you'll know that, too."

I couldn't help but smile back. His praise and reassurance felt awesome. I closed my eyes and watched as shadows of the trees flew past, flashing warm sunlight on my eyelids. I thought of what it'd be like to lie with Jessie, naked and relaxed, slowly..."

My eyes opened with shock. No! You can't think like that! It can't happen--you're only driving yourself insane! But how could I stop? It was like she flowed in my bloodstream...

Dad glanced at me, perhaps a little concerned. "Too much input?"

"No, no, I'm good." He didn't look convinced. I watched as stuff went by, not really seeing it. Time to change the subject again. "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"I wish Mom could be here for Jess like this."

He nodded. "Me, too. More than you know."

"She probably needs her."

"Well, she'll just have to make do with me. I guess it's okay to tell you. I've asked the school counselor to chat with her--nothing I need a report on. Just to be there in case she's willing to talk." He started to say more, but paused. Deciding to continue, he said, "She and I have already had a couple talks."

"How did it go?"

"A lot better than I thought. Still, I didn't get a chance to say a lot of things I wanted to."

I thought about that. I loved them both, and this had been so good for me. "If I wanted to ask you something, like about falling in love or about, um, growing up, would it be okay to bring it up at the dinner table?"

He gave me an odd look, but immediately saw where I was going with it. "Absolutely, if you think it'd be appropriate and you're comfortable."

"Any ideas what I might be curious about?"

"Huh, like you said, falling in love, dating, growing up, when you're too old for something, or when you might be old enough. Stuff you hear in school or read about. Anything that opens a new topic..."

"Cool, I think I can help with that. I mean, I'll look for opportunities."

Once we got back from our shopping trip, Dad said he had plans for the evening, and asked if I could fend for myself. That was unlike him.

"I'm going to join Jerry and the guys for a game of pool down at the Duck Inn. I'll definitely be home late." It didn't even occur to me at the time that he might just be making himself scarce.

It turned out to be an interesting and productive evening.

It did feel strange--a little numb, and I understood why guys called them raincoats. But it never interfered with the outcome. As a matter of fact, that was better because it took longer to get there. I could imagine that would be a benefit in a real-life situation.

I practiced both the disposal techniques that Dad mentioned, and decided that--unless you were somewhere with a septic system--flushing was better. Rolled inside a tissue, it went right down. I double-bagged my trash and took it to the bin in the garage. I was a bit tender, so I walked slowly.

When I finally lay down, I fell asleep almost instantly, and dreamed wild stuff. When I woke the next day, I limped to the shower, trying to remember why I was sore. Oh yeah.

I decided to show Spaz the packages. He'd get a kick out of seeing a drawer full of condoms. There wasn't a chance he'd keep it a secret, but that would be okay.

# Chapter 28

When Jessie came off the plane from Colorado, I could barely keep my jaw off the floor. Sometime in the last couple months my sister had become a stunning young woman. She had grown an inch and her thin torso now gave way to subtle hips. With her large, dark eyes, and thick raven hair braided down her back, she could have stepped right off the cover of Seventeen.

She saw Dad first and a huge smile flashed across her face, blinding against her bronze skin.

She ran to him, skipping across the lobby. Dad grabbed her in a great bear hug, lifting her a foot off the floor. Her arm muscles rippled as she returned Dad's embrace.

When she saw me, Jessie squirmed away from Dad, literally leaping into my arms. She crushed herself against me, simultaneously solid and soft. I bent down, burying my face in her neck, inhaling her familiar aroma. After what was probably too long for siblings, we released each other. She held me at arm's length and looked into my eyes, right into me. The contact was an electric jolt, nearly buckling my knees.

"Oh my God, Cory. I've missed you so bad!"

"You, too," was all I could manage, barely able to breathe.

The whole afternoon I had to consciously force myself not to stare at her. Every time I did peek, though, she was looking at me. She'd look away and glance at Dad. He didn't seem to notice, but he did give me what might've been a stem look. Maybe I wasn't as subtle as I tried to be. Maybe I was paranoid, but I had good reason. He could read me like a billboard. Maybe he already knew.

I expected him to pull me aside and grill me, and dreaded that encounter. Somehow it never happened. We ate dinner. We talked about the events of the summer. We watched a TV show. Still nothing.

By the time I turned in, I had convinced myself that he didn't know, at least not yet. If he'd suspected before Jessie left, there'd been plenty of time over the summer for him to test me, and he hadn't. Besides, if he knew before, he'd have split us up, sent Jessie away for good.

Laying there in the dark, I worried what a danger I was to Jess. My feelings could destroy everything. But how could I hide my desire now that she was back? And what could I say if he confronted me?

I decided I'd tell him I liked guys. It worked before. It would be horrible, but it would keep her safe. Having a plan, even a bad one, calmed me a little.

Late that night I woke to Jessie's slender body sliding under my quilt.

"Oh shit, Jessie--what are you..."

"Shhh. Be quiet. We can't wake Dad."

My blood flooded with terror and dizzying excitement.

"You're not wearing anything!"

"We don't need clothes for what I want," she cooed, hugging herself against my chest. "Do you have condoms?"

"Um, yeah...Why?"

"Good point. My shots are up to date. We don't need them."

Every fantasy I'd ever had raced through my mind. Jessie's scent enveloped me, her lips pressed against mine. Her palm traced a line from my ribs to my thigh and I shuddered right down to my soul.

"Jessie, I can't... We can't anymore..." My need to hold her struggled with my need to stop her. "Dad, he..."

"I don't care, Cory. I've waited so long..."

"No. Seriously," I whispered urgently, trying to push her away. "You can't be here. You don't understand."

"I do understand. I figured out why you said you were gay. It was sweet of you to try to protect me. I know it's trouble, Cory, but I don't care. I need you. I want you right now."

"Jessie! No!" I hissed. Oh, my God! I ached for her with my whole being. Maybe I could at least buy some time.

"Not now. Not here. You have to go!" My heart pounded in my ears.

"But..." She looked me in the eyes, confused.

"It's way too dangerous. We can talk tomorrow, okay? When we're alone. I'm serious."

"But..."

Down the hall, Dad stopped snoring. We froze, neither of us breathing. After a few seconds, we heard him start again.

"You're right, it's not safe now," she whispered. She started to get up, then kissed my lips again. Mine responded against my will. "Tomorrow, then. G'nite, Cory, I love you."

She stood next to my bed, her lithe, naked form a shadow against the dark walls.

"G'nite. I love you too... Sis." I said that on purpose. She clearly caught it, holding my gaze as she slipped silently out of the room.

Alone again, I strained to hear Dad's breathing over my pounding heart. I thought of how his radar had caught me so many times before, and I prayed that he'd slept through Jessie's visit. I trembled as the adrenalin ebbed. Finally, my respiration slowed enough that I could hear him, sawing away, regular and deep. Through the heat vent, I heard Jessie moan softly. I relaxed a little.

But only a little. What was I going to tell Jessie tomorrow? I was back to square one. I'd have to lay out the whole thing... The laws, the consequences, and that nothing could happen between us and that nobody could know. She wouldn't care. She didn't mind breaking rules--in fact, I think she enjoyed it. How could I protect her without her cooperation?

Daniel's words haunted me. I'd have to break it off--it wasn't her way. Even telling her why was useless. She'd have to believe that it came from me. What could I possibly say to convince her? This would be the hardest thing I'd ever done.

# Chapter 29

Still awake at five in the morning, I got up and dressed. I left a note for Dad and biked down the dark dirt roads and two-tracks to the beach where we used to camp. A few new cottages dotted the shoreline now, but it was quiet this early.

I sat and watched the sun rise over the bay, frantically trying to make my brain think. Nothing came to me. I figured I'd just stay there all day and try to figure it out. In other words, hide out like a chicken.

I needed to talk to Daniel, but it was three hours earlier in Colorado. It would have to wait.

When the sun cleared the Garden Peninsula, I heard bike tires behind me. I stood and turned to see Jessie, bathed in the golden morning light.

"I knew you'd come here," she smiled. "This is the perfect place."

"What do you mean?"

"It's where we said, 'I do'. I brought us a blanket to lie on, but it's too open here by the beach. Let's go back in the trees, but not too far. I want to feel the sun and the breeze on my skin when you make love to me."

Oh my God! Every cell in my body flooded with adrenalin again and my resolution evaporated. For a moment, I stood on the sand, my heart torn. Maybe we could hide it. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe I didn't care what happened tomorrow... Just this one time...

But I did care.

"You want us to have sex?" I knew the answer.

"Duh. Don't tease me Cory. This is all I've thought about for months."

She reached for my hand, but I turned away. I couldn't look at her.

"Nothing's going to happen, Sis."

"Don't play with me," she groaned. "I know you want this as much as I do."

It took all my will not to grab her. "I'm not playing."

"Then come on. I can't wait..."

"I said nothing's going to happen."

"Are you nervous? It's okay, I understand. Don't be afraid, you won't hurt me or scare me."

"Jessie..." I trembled all over.

"What's wrong? I don't get it..."

A wave of agony and frustration overwhelmed me, coming out as rage. I whirled to face her.

"Are you crazy? What if we got caught? You know I could go to prison for life, don't you? For life! Is that what you want?"

She stepped back. "No! Of course not! But no one will know."

Oh, they'd know. "Oh, get real. And when your friends ask you why you're so giddy?"

"I don't know..."

"...and when they see the way you'd look at me? Do you really think you could hide that?"

She shook her head. "Okay, probably not, but..."

"But what? But you don't care? You'd risk me going to prison just to get fucked in the woods? How selfish are you?"

"Don't say it like that!" She reached for me and I backed away from her a step. "I want you to be my first, my only. I came here to give myself to you."

"But I don't want you." Biggest lie I ever told.

"You are such a liar! Why are you being like this?"

"Like what? Rational?"

"Cory, it's okay. We're married. In our hearts, in front of God."

My voice started to break. "Not anymore."

"What? What are you talking about?" She grabbed my arm.

I pushed her hand away. "It's over Jess. I don't like you that way."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean between us. It's over." There, I said it.

"What? You're breaking up with me?"

"That's what over means." Her face blurred as tears filled my eyes.

"But I love you! I want..."

A fresh wave of pain slammed into me.

"This is all about you, all about what you want. You don't care what happens to me. You don't even care what happens to Dad. You're a stupid, selfish little girl. How could I love you?"

"You're twisting this all around!"

"I'm telling you the truth. You just don't want to hear it. I don't love you." I was the king of lies.

"But you do!" she pleaded, her hands out to me.

"Not anymore. I don't want you!"

"Please don't yell at me. I can't take it." Tears filled her eyes, too, ready to fall.

"Maybe that's the only way to get through to you, because you sure as hell aren't listening!"

"Don't do this to me, Cory!"

"Don't you get it? We're done."

"I don't believe you! You're just lying to me again!"

"Believe it... Sis!"

"Just like that?"

"Yes," I spat bitterly. "Just like that."

"I don't even get a say?" her chin shook.

I screamed right in her face, mocking her. "No! You don't get a say!" My pain come out as fury. It wasn't fair, but it helped me do what I had to.

"Why are you b-b-being so mean? ...to me? I thought you l-loved meee!"

She bent over, crying. Every cell in my body wanted to hold her, to comfort her, but I just stood there, breathing hard, my jaw clenched and skin sweaty.

"I'm your brother, and nothing more. Go away!"

"Who are you?" The venom in her voice was the edge of a rusty razor. "What did you do with my Cory? Tell me!" she shrieked. "You fucking bastard!"

I saw it coming, but she was far too quick. Her powerful kick drove the air from my chest and sent me hard on my ass, gasping for oxygen.

As she pedaled away, I crouched on my hands and knees, my insides heaving. Eventually, I curled into a ball, shaking and sobbing. When I ran out of tears, I pulled out my matches and burned my arm until it blistered. There weren't enough matches in the world.

The sun was setting by the time I rode home, but I cast no shadow. I was a skeleton--just broken bones with nothing inside.

# Chapter 30

When I got home, Jess was in her room with the door closed. I took a shower and scrubbed my teeth, but nothing could wash away the taste of what I'd said. My arm throbbed from the fresh burns. I went to bed and lay awake for hours. I heard Jess go to bed, then later, Dad came home from work. He went to bed and snored softly as I fretted.

Had I done the right thing? If so, it was no comfort. I'd done something unforgivable again, and had no idea what the consequences would be. But I was sure they'd be serious, and I was afraid. I drifted off into a fitful sleep.

I startled awake with a strong hand clasped over my mouth and nose. A voice hissed in my ear.

"Not one word to Dad, or I swear I'll make you regret it."

She was out the door so fast, I wasn't sure if I dreamt it.

I woke to Dad shaking my shoulder.

"Get up, Son. We need to talk."

I was instantly alert, but defenseless, totally unprepared.

"What happened yesterday?" he demanded.

"What do you mean?"

His forehead creased like a thundercloud. "Don't get cute with me. Spit it out."

What does he know? What does he suspect? Her words rang in my ear.

He leaned closer. "Answer me."

"Sis and I had a fight." I didn't mean to admit that, it just came out.

He grabbed my arm. "What the hell did you do to her?"

"I... I said... stuff I'm not proud of..." How to get out of this? "...and she kicked me," I added, trying to shift my guilt.

"She did, huh? What was this about?"

Not a word. Time to grow a pair.

"Look, Dad, that's not important. I'm not going to discuss it." The words were brave, but my voice wavered. "I'm not going to say anything bad about her."

His stony stare bored into me, but somehow, I held firm.

"Family meeting. Now."

I followed him to the kitchen table in my bare feet. A half-eaten bowl of cereal sat abandoned at Jess's place.

"What the..." He stalked to the back door.

"Jessica!"

He slammed the door and grabbed the phone.

"Georgia? Mike. Is my daughter there? No? Okay. If you or Beth see her, send her straight home."

He called Jody's house, then Janna's. I studied the wood grain of the kitchen table, my mind and heart racing.

"Damn it. What the hell is going on?" He leaned over the table. "Tell me."

"Dad, I'm sorry. I can't. This is between me and Jessie. You're going to have to let us work it out ourselves."

"Oh, I am, am I? Since when do you tell me what I have to do?" The angry crease nearly split his forehead in two. He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. Then he put the cereal bowl in the sink, refreshed his coffee, and took the chair across from me. After a long, uncomfortable silence, he blew out a deep breath.

"Okay, fine. You work it out. You've got twenty-four hours."

He glared at the phone, drumming his fingers on the table.

Jessie was still missing when Dad left for work. He'd only been gone fifteen minutes when she slammed the back door and stormed into my room.

"How much did you tell?" Her right hand formed a fist, knuckles pale with the strain.

"Nothing!" I leaned away. "Just that I called you names and you kicked me, nothing else."

She glared. "You'd better be telling the truth."

"He's really mad, but he gave us a day to work it out. Look, I don't expect you to forgive me..."

"Just shut up," she spat. "I don't want to hear you talk."

"Um..."

"I made a mistake, a horrible, humiliating mistake. If you ever breathe a word of it, I will disembowel you."

"No way, I..."

"What part of shut up don't you get? You know what kills me? I thought I knew who you were. I had this wonderful idea of you in my head. My fucking guardian angel. As if you'd really want me! How could I be so stupid?"

"Jess, I'm so..."

"No! Don't you dare! Don't you dare be sorry to me! You don't owe me an apology. You don't owe me shit. You tried to be nice before with your 'I'm gay' act. Nice didn't work. I get it now. I'm garbage." She started to turn toward the door, then looked back.

"I wish you left me to burn."

"Good morning kids. Have a seat." Dad served us waffles and raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay now?" I stuffed a forkful in my face so I didn't have to answer first.

"Daddy, it was all my fault. I misunderstood Cory and made an ass of myself. He was right to be mad. But we understand each other very well now, don't we?"

I probably should have nodded my head for Dad to see, but I knew it would hurt her again.

"I'm sorry I ran off yesterday. I was just embarrassed for being such an idiot. Whatever punishment you think is appropriate, I accept, and I'll behave more maturely in the future."

Dad scowled at her practiced delivery, turning to me.

"And what do you have to say?"

"Um, well, I was..." I looked away. "I'm ashamed of how I acted." I met her steely gaze. "I hurt you, on purpose, something I swore I'd never do. I'd give anything to take it back." I blinked. "Anything."

He looked at each of us, then out the window. Tears rolled silently down my cheeks.

"Okay, one thing at a time. First, Miss, we don't say ass--watch your language.

"Son, I don't like being defied, but I respect that you held your ground yesterday. I would have sworn you didn't have a cruel bone in your body, but it looks like I was wrong. Tough to face your imperfections, huh? But it keeps you humble. You'll have more compassion when someone's unkind to you. I'll let you punish yourself--you seem to be doing a good job of it already."

"Now you, Miss... I understand that when you're a teenager, emotions can come at you hard, and you won't always know how to deal with them. Sometimes you need a little space to figure your feelings out. I'll try and remember that, but you have to meet me halfway. I appreciate you calling me at work to say you were okay, but next time talk to me first, don't make me worry about you. Fair enough?"

"Okay."

"Last, I will not, ever, tolerate physical abuse..."

"Dad, I provoked her. I don't blame her for that."

"But I do. I don't pay for karate classes so you can learn how to hurt people. You violated both your training and the most serious rule of this house. You lose two weeks at the dojo. If this ever happens again it will be much, much more serious."

"I understand. I promise it won't."

"I want both of you to think about how you acted without considering the consequences. Impulse control is hard at your age, but it's a critical skill. Understand?"

We nodded.

"Good, that's settled. Now eat. Your waffles are getting cold."

The following days, Jess shut herself in her room, only coming out for meals. She barely spoke. Her friends called, but she just let her phone ring until they gave up. She seemed a little better once school started, but still not her old self.

I didn't know what to say, what to do. When I ate I was sick to my stomach, so I avoided eating. When I tried to study, I'd find myself just staring at the page with no memory of what I just read. My shame and sorrow seemed to crawl and writhe under my skin. It took hours to go to sleep at night, and vivid new nightmares greeted me when I did.

One day in class I nodded off and fell out of my chair. That's something that nobody in junior high will ever let you forget.

Another day I was thinking about how the nurses picked dead skin out of my wounds, wishing my agony could be only that bad. That's when I remembered Jessie screaming from in pain from the next hospital room as they tortured her. Because of what I'd done. And now I'd done it again, this time on purpose.

It was too much. I started to cry. I tried to stop, but couldn't. The classroom fell silent around me. I choked and covered my face, knowing that school would never be a safe place again, but not caring. The teacher eventually took my arm and walked me to the office.

The secretary put a box of tissues in my lap and left me alone for a while. Once I'd calmed down, she came back and asked, "So what's this about?"

Dad dragged me to a counselor, but of course I couldn't tell him about my problems. I felt bad—the guy seemed sincere and really wanted to help, but I wouldn't cooperate. Maybe by then I couldn't. The habit of keeping secrets was deeply ingrained.

He did get me to confess that I had obsessive thoughts, but I stayed vague on what I thought about. He asked if I ever felt like hurting myself, and of course I lied. I was glad I'd worn a long-sleeve shirt.

He concluded that I had an anxiety disorder, and sent me to a psychiatrist who prescribed some pills. They seemed to make my insomnia and lack of appetite even worse, but it was hard to tell. I guess the pills worked a little. After a couple weeks, I didn't need to burn myself as often.

Dad told me once that the opposite of love wasn't hate, but apathy. Love and hate were both passionate kinds of caring, different sides of the same coin. I knew how much Jessie had loved me, because now it was clear how much she despised me.

It was cold that winter, the kind of hard, bitter freeze that makes your joints ache. The weather outside wasn't much better. I couldn't stand to look in Jessie's eyes. They were dull and full of sorrow. She withdrew from her friends and her grades fell.

Eighth grade was a blur. I felt exhausted all the time. My obsession grew even worse, if that was possible. One of those long nights in my doorway I was thinking about my scars. I touched the place where the jagged bone had torn right through my muscle and skin, and remembered how badly it had burned and ached. I'd have gladly traded that physical pain for my suffering. Yeah, a broken arm hurts like crazy, but you don't have to hide it. More important, bones heal and the pain passes.

But this pain never ended, and I was so alone. Who could I tell? Our minister? Not! The therapist? No chance. And not Dad. Definitely not Dad. I couldn't even talk about it with Spaz. It was just too dangerous. Not for me--I'd happily take the consequences just to get it off my chest. But just the chance it got out... I wouldn't ever do that to Jess, or to Dad.

More than ever, it was my own little hell, to love the one girl in the world I could never have, and to bear the guilt of her pain on top of my own.

# Chapter 31

The summer we were fourteen, Dad sent us both to the ranch as soon as we got out of school. It took me a while to build up the calluses on my butt again. There was a familiarity, though, with the physical pain, the thin air, and the rhythm of the work. I felt at ease and confident around the horses, and they responded to that. James seemed to have aged a lot in the year I was gone, and I took over some of his duties.

Dad didn't call us as often as he had Jessie the previous year, and when he did, he sounded tired. He explained that he'd been sick for a while and that it really drained his energy.

Sometimes Daniel and I would take a ride together and I could tell him out loud how I really felt about Jessie. We stopped on the trail and I told him about the fight on the beach.

"That musta tore ya up good," he said.

"I keep hoping that it'll get better, Daniel, that it will hurt less tomorrow. But it's been months and it never does."

"Some pain you just gotta bear," he said. "How long'd it take your burns ta stop hurtin'?"

"Three or four months. Why?"

"Well, I'm guessin' this hurts a lot more."

"Yeah," I admitted.

"Then it's gunna take longer."

"Geez, I hope not. Has she said anything to you?"

"No, but she confides in Maw. She's tore up, too, course. She put herself all on the line and you rejected her. She's hurt and angry to the bone."

"God, Daniel, I feel like shit."

"Ya did what you had to. That's what a man does sometimes. He makes sacrifices for the ones he loves. No good could come of it, and you know that's the truth."

It was a huge relief to have someone I could talk to, though I'm sure he got real tired of the topic. When August came, and it was time to go home, I knew I'd miss that outlet desperately.

"I'm just a phone call away, kid, whenever you need an ear," he said.

The week before we started high school, we were eligible to take our initial driver training class, and get our Level One licenses. It meant we could drive with Dad in the passenger seat. He was so good about it--I'd have gone nuts.

All that fall and into the winter, Jessie drove while I did homework in the back seat, then we'd switch. Just sitting that close to her gave me goose bumps and made my heart beat faster. Even with so much time spent together, she only spoke to me when she absolutely had to.

Jess was a natural. She handled the big truck with the same ease and self-assurance that she showed in the saddle.

We felt so grown up, and our friends were jealous. We logged hundreds of miles driving on everything from M35 and US2 to the gravel back-roads. Dad made sure we drove in rain, sleet, and high winds. He got us up early when the roads were icy or snowy, just so we could practice before the plows came out. We had some close calls. We learned to watch for deer, and judge whether to brake or plow ahead. They're unpredictable, and it wasn't a good idea to swerve.

Through it all, Dad stayed calm and reassuring, reminding us to check our mirrors and anticipate problems. The hardest part for me was passing on US2, a winding two-lane highway. If I got stuck behind a motorhome or log truck, I had to pull out into the oncoming lane and floor it. There were a lot of unmarked side roads and driveways, a lot to look out for. I pictured a head-on collision at fifty-five...

"Okay Cory, it's safe," Dad said one time. "Go ahead."

I hesitated.

"It's clear, Son, go now."

"Dad? Stop it--I'm the driver. I don't want to pass here." Dad fell quiet for a bit. I hadn't meant to be disrespectful.

"Good call, Son," he sighed. "And I apologize. Don't ever let someone else pressure you into taking risks."

I thought I'd made him nervous--that was the first time I noticed his hand tremble.

I buried myself in schoolwork, just to keep my mind on something. I tested out of Algebra nine and went right into the sophomore class. I also took accelerated English, which I liked. For our fifteenth birthday, each of us got our own key to the truck. It was mostly symbolic, of course, but very cool anyway.

In March, Sis and I took our second driving class, and both passed with no problem. Unfortunately, we were still stuck on level one until we turned sixteen, and passed the written and road tests.

When school let out for spring break, Dad had us drive him down to Chicago, just to experience real interstate freeways and city traffic. We drove six hours a day for three days in a row, plus a couple trips out at night. It was nerve-wracking, as much for the person in back as for the driver. All the signs, speeders, merges, construction, detours, traffic... By the time we headed home, we were exhausted and humbled.

"Dad?" I asked, "Why're you so insistent on our driving skills, I mean, more than other parents?"

"Soon you'll have to drive without me, and it's the most dangerous thing that teens are allowed to do. More generally, it's the same reason I have you guys pay the bills and help run the house. Being an adult might seem far away to you now, but it will happen faster than you expect. I want you to be independent and ready for life...when it's time to be on your own."

In school, the strategy of distracting myself with a heavy course load was still working pretty well. It was harder to fall asleep in class when it challenged me. When the time came to plan my sophomore year, I took on the toughest schedule I could.

Back at home, Jess did stuff that almost seemed to deliberately start a fight. She might leave the door open a crack when she changed clothes or showered. She caught me watching once. If looks could kill I'd have been dead, my eyes burned out by laser beams. She slammed the door and started screaming at the top of her lungs about respecting her privacy.

Spaz assured me that was kind of normal. His sisters were the same way. They'd tease him all the time and then call him a little perv. I sensed it was more serious with Jessie.

# Chapter 32

The summer we were fifteen we went back to the ranch. I told Dad I'd rather stay and take some summer classes, but he insisted. I came home tanned and toned, looking less like a scrawny, plucked chicken.

Dad looked way different, too--he'd completely shaved his head and his beard! It was awful. We begged him to grow it back. I couldn't help staring at him, but he did the same to me. I'd catch him studying me.

He took the week before school off to spend with us. The late summer days were still warm and sunny, and Jessie begged Dad to let her get a bikini.

"When have you ever asked my permission to buy clothes? You're fifteen, Bug, old enough to choose for yourself. Just remember that you might have to wear it in front of me all afternoon if we go to the beach." Despite that threat she picked out a style that left almost nothing to the imagination. I was happy to see that the scars from the fire had faded.

But she never wore it to the beach. Some afternoons she'd sunbathe in the back yard. A couple times when Dad was at work, she even laid face down with the top straps undone, and that drove me nuts. She said she didn't want tan lines, and made me promise not to tell him. Yeah, like I'd mention that! Another time she asked me to put lotion on her back. I was smart enough to turn down that opportunity.

The closest that I'd get was when she asked me to braid her hair, one of my favorite things to do. It was nice to touch her, to smell her skin, but stand where we didn't have to make eye contact. When I was done, I sometimes bent down to kiss her head like I used to, but caught myself just in time.

One morning Dad had me drive him to the big drug store in Marquette. He waited in the truck while I went inside. This was my fourth time buying condoms, and instead of being embarrassing, it felt kind of cool and grown-up. It helped my ego that I'd graduated from snug-fits.

On the way back, Dad said, "You know, Cory, you really like working with your hands. What would you think of transferring to the vocational high school this year?"

"Uh, gee, I think it'd be fun, but maybe not a good move for getting into college. Besides, I really enjoy the academics. I think I'd get bored."

More to the point, I wanted to stay where I could keep an eye on Jessie.

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. So, do you have plans for the last weekend of the summer?"

"Nothing special." He was looking at me so I checked my mirrors.

"Maybe you should get out of the house, you know, go see a movie or something."

"Nah, Spaz is at his Dad's, and I don't want to go alone."

He shrugged. "You could ask your sister's friend Jody to go with you. She's liked you for a long time, and I'm sure she'd be thrilled if you offered."

"I know, Dad, but I don't think that's a good idea."

"Are you nervous about asking? Because..."

"It's not that. She's a sweet girl and I like her, but not the way she likes me. I wouldn't want to lead her on. It wouldn't be fair to her." I checked my mirrors again.

"I wasn't suggesting that you propose to her, Son, just take her out for the evening." He touched my arm with his fist. "You might actually enjoy it."

"I really wouldn't be comfortable doing that." I needed to change the subject. "Maybe you should go on a date sometime, though."

"Me?" He laughed. "I wouldn't do that. I'm still married to your Mom. A man doesn't date people if his heart belongs to another."

We rode in silence for a few miles. His forehead had that pondering look and he kept glancing at me. He stared at me a minute before speaking.

"So, what's going on between you and your sister?"

I tried not to put Dad's truck in the ditch as adrenalin flooded my veins.

I tried to sound casual. "Um, what do you mean?"

"Ever since you guys came back from the ranch you look at each other differently. What's up?"

Terror gripped my throat. I took a deep breath and willed myself to stay calm.

"Differently how?"

"I'm not sure... intensely is the best word I can come up with." I wished he would stop staring at me.

"Things have been tense between us for a long time, Dad."

"Why's that?"

"We've just grown apart." I shrugged as if it didn't matter. "Kind of like the two of you have, I guess."

"It seems like she's angry. Did something happen between you?"

"Nothing specific," I lied. I kept my eyes on the road, knowing that he probably caught it anyway. "She went through that phase where she was fighting and breaking things, and we just never reconnected. I think it's just part of her being a teenager."

"You're sure it's not more than that?" I could feel him searching my face, reading my posture.

"We aren't close anymore. I miss that."

He nodded. "You seem to miss it a lot."

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

"She's lucky, I guess. Not all brothers love their sister so much." His eyes were burning the side of my head.

"I suppose not, Dad."

He sighed. "You can talk to me, remember. About anything. No judgments."

Yeah, right, I thought.

"I know. Thanks, Dad." I was relieved that he didn't press it further.

# Chapter 33

One morning that October we were eating breakfast at the kitchen table. Dad had finally relented and let his hair and whiskers grow out again, much to our relief.

"Bug," he asked, "do you ever wonder about your first family?"

"My birth parents?" She shook her head. "No, it's not like I knew them or anything."

"I meant any biological relatives you might have."

"Um, no, not really. Why?"

"Until now I've done what I thought proper, but you're old enough to have a part in important stuff like that."

"Uh, okay." She set her fork aside. "The only things I know are their names and the article about the accident they died in. Is there something more I should know?"

"Well, first, when we were going through the adoption process, your Mom and I put notices in the legal journal, and in the largest papers in the country."

"That must have cost a lot," she said.

"Not as much as you might think. We needed to know if you had relatives who would try to claim you."

She frowned. "You'd have let strangers take me?"

"That's not what I said. We wanted to be ready for a court fight if we needed one."

"Oh. Okay."

"I thought you might like to see it. Here's one from the Detroit Free Press." His hand trembled.

She squinted at the aging newsprint. "Notice, any person related to or knowing the family of Jessica Pearl Montri, daughter of Aran and Sabrina Montri (nee Heimanu), born in Detroit, Michigan on December thirteenth, nineteen sixty-seven..." she read silently for a moment.

She set it on the table. "May I keep this?"

"Of course. I've kept in contact with the orphanage. They're listed as the contact at all the search organizations. I didn't want people contacting us directly. They have instructions to call if someone inquires, and I check in with them by phone a couple times a year. Still nothing though.

"A few months ago, I hired a forensic genealogist to track down more information. He found out that your father entered the US flying from Thailand to Hawaii. Your mother studied at U of H, but it's not clear if she was born there. Her name is common in Tahiti. There are no records of how they ended up in Detroit, or whether there's any family in the US. I have another person working on that, but again, no luck so far."

"Huh. I had no idea. I assumed my background was at least partially African. Anyway, I figured if I had family, they'd have found me before you did. Why are you still so interested?"

"Health stuff, genetics."

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that."

"If you don't mind," he said, "I'd like to have a lab run some tests to see if there's anything we should know."

"Sure, why not? Did you hear that Cory? Some guy at a lab's going to be checking out my genes."

I just groaned.

"Dad, did you see the mail?" I asked. "You aren't old enough to retire yet, are you?"

"Oh, the one from Social Security?" He chuckled. "No, I just ordered new cards for you and your sister. I know we had them at the Secretary of State's office, but I've looked everywhere. You'll each need to sign your new card. First step to filing our taxes--are you going to help me out again next year?"

"Of course!" Last year I'd found an extra three hundred dollars for the refund. He knew I was proud of that, and mentioned it whenever the subject came up. He was often very cool that way.

# Chapter 34--Wed. Dec. 7

If you looked into my room it would appear that I was drawing. Mostly, though, I was listening to Jess and her friends in the next room. I wasn't eavesdropping on purpose--it's just that we shared the heat register. Okay, so I was listening--I couldn't help it. So shoot me.

"How'd your book report go?" Jody asked.

" _Lolita_? Mrs. Jenkins thought it was an inappropriate choice, but I got an A on it anyway."

"You did a book report on Nabokov?" Beth asked. "Why would you even want to read that?"

"I found it interesting. It kind of explained... It helped me understand how some guys think."

"Jessie, I love when you wear your hair like that. How do you braid it yourself?"

"I can't get it this even myself. Cory does it. He has since my... Since I was twelve."

I got a rush of pride at Jody's compliment, and again at Jessie's response.

"Do you think he'd do mine like that?"

"Like this? I don't know, Jody. Your hair's so fine... You could ask him."

"Hmh," Jody demurred. "So, Beth, how are the side-effects?"

"Of what?"

"Your birth control pills, duh."

"Oh, that. I'm okay now. Thanks for asking."

"How'd you ever talk your mom into that? She so Catholic-y." Jody giggled.

"I told my dad I wanted them. Aunt Hannah picks them up for me. She's really cool."

"I wish I had a cool aunt," Janna said.

"What if you mom finds them? She'll have a herd of cows." Jody made a sound like a head exploding.

"She has. She flushes them down the toilet and then we fight. I have to keep spares hidden around. It makes it hard to keep track sometimes."

"What does she do?" Jessie asked. "Search your room?"

"Every day. She says that because I hide them from her I don't deserve any privacy. I've started leaving notes in my underwear drawer saying, 'Not here, bitch.'"

"Seriously?" Jess asked.

"Yeah. It's really out of hand."

"Why don't you just go live at your aunt's?" Jody suggested.

"I would in a heartbeat. Her son, my cousin Randy, he's already crashing on her couch. He's out of jail and really trying hard to stay clean. It's just not an option right now."

"I'm going to talk to my mom about getting pills," Jody said.

Janna snorted. "Why? You're not even allowed to go on a date. Now you're going to tell your mama you want to go all the way? With who?"

"The dating thing comes from my dad. My mom will understand. It's not like I have any chance of losing it anytime soon. But I worry about stuff happening to me, and I'm definitely not ready to be a mom."

Beth said, "To answer your question, the nausea was really bad. The other thing is having to take them at the exact same time, every single day. That's a pain."

"Does that mean that you and Dave are doing it?" Jody asked.

"We're kind of talking about it."

"Boys don't talk about it," Janna said. "You have to bring it up." Everybody laughed, including me. I almost gave away my presence. "How about you Jessie Girl? Are you popping pills yet?"

"She doesn't have to, Janna." Beth said.

"Why? Oh, Jessie girl, have you decided to become a nun?"

"No, she gets shots," Jody said. "What? A couple years now, right? No problems?"

"None," Jess said. "Just the first couple days."

"Aren't those expensive?"

"And your dad's okay with that?"

"I had problems. When we first talked about it I thought I'd die. Oh my God. He tries to be Mom and Dad, you know? He was so matter-of-fact, acting like it was no big deal. But later he told me that it was hard for him, too. As for the price, he doesn't care. It's what I preferred, and what the doctor recommended."

"I wish I had your dad, Jess," Jody said. "Do you want to trade?"

"Maybe... Can your dad cook?"

"A little."

"Hmmm, throw in your new parka and it's a deal," Jessie giggled. Beth and Jody laughed, but Janna didn't.

"At least my dad didn't try to 'do the talk' with me," she sneered.

"No, Janna, he won't. But for me, well, I don't have a mom, so I didn't have much choice." The room got quiet.

So, Beth was on birth control, too. That didn't surprise me. She was smart and seemed mature. She was sixteen and had a steady boyfriend. Dave Candem was a senior and drove a Jeep. He seemed like a real nice guy. So, it made sense--whether or not she needed it right now, she was being responsible.

Jody wanted to be on the pill, too. She was probably afraid that someone would abduct her and rape her, but let her live. It could happen. And if it could happen, then it must be worried about. I wondered if by some secret of biology that girls' brains were hardwired to lose sleep over stuff, some kind of extra worry lobe.

"Dave and I are going to see the new movie on Friday."

"Which one, Beth? _Terms of Endearment_?" Jess asked.

"Yeah, I sat through James Bond last time, so now it's his turn. Maybe I'll compromise though. The other one playing is _The Being_. It's the one where the kid gets genetically altered and becomes a cannibal. If we see that, Dave's brother Steven wants to go, too. That is, if Jessie comes along."

There was a chorus of catcalls and oo-la-la's.

"You should go, Jessie girl. I'll bet your Dad will let you. Me, I have to stay chained up in the cellar until I get married."

"I would, but I can't if boys are going." Jody grumbled. "My dad says that's a date. He's so harsh."

"I'll think about it," Jess said

"He really likes you. We can pick you up at six..."

"I'll let you know, Beth, and see how I feel. It does sound nice to get out of the house." My heart sank. Steven Camden was immature and crude. How could she even consider him? He wasn't worthy to date my sister.

"Hey, Jess, that mutation thing reminds me. Did you ever find out the deal on that genetic testing?"

"Yeah, girl, I heard Cory got an A on the science project comparing your genetics."

"Uh-huh, he did. And you're right, Beth, those tests were pretty expensive, but my Dad thought it was a good idea to have them done. We didn't know if I had any genetic problems--because I'm adopted, right? I guess it wasn't much more to do identity testing for all three of us."

"Some kids think your Dad bought that A for him," Janna mumbled.

"No way, Janna." Jody said. "It was Cory's idea, and he did a good job with the presentation. He earned that grade."

"I don't know why you bothered, cocoa girl. You're obviously not related."

"So, Jessie, did they find anything?" Jody asked.

"I might have a slightly increased risk for gout and obesity, but no, nothing dire."

"Obesity? You? No way."

"What's gout?"

"Acid accumulation--it attacks the joints in your feet."

"Yuck."

"...but you do have genes for perfect skin. I'm so jealous," Beth said.

"Me, too, Jessie. I hate zits."

Jessie giggled. "Yeah, right! You don't remember my volcano face?"

"But that cleared right up..."

"Only after Dad dragged me kicking and screaming to the dermatologist. I'm just lucky that it didn't scar over."

"Do you think the tests could help identify your real parents?"

"Janna!" Jessie hissed. "Don't you ever say that! My Dad's my real dad. Get it?"

"Geez! Sorry, Jessie."

Softer now, Jessie said, "My birth parents died when I was three, Janna. I don't even remember them."

"But, hey--maybe you have aunts or uncles out there." Janna suggested.

"The report said that if we had a DNA sample from a relative, the test would confirm it, but I figure they just... I lived in an orphanage for eight years, and no relatives ever came looking for me."

The room fell silent again.

"Jessie?" Beth asked, "Do you think your dad will ever get remarried? He's a hot commodity, you know."

Jessie laughed. "How do you mean?"

"To start with he's employed. Around here that's enough to get you married in a week. He doesn't drink, do drugs, gamble, smoke, or even swear. He goes to church, and he's good with kids. There are a lot of women, including single moms, who'd be thrilled to have a man like him."

Janna chimed in, "And probably a lot of married women who'd trade for the bums they've got."

"Maybe we should auction him off." Jessie laughed. "Seriously, though? I wish he'd get remarried."

"You want a stepmother?" Janna snorted, "Why?"

"I can't imagine him falling for a witch, but even if he did I could survive for three years, and then I'm off to college. I'd just like to see him happy again."

"It'd help if he ever took that ring off his hand," Beth said.

"He can't," Jess said. "In his heart, he's still married. So, check out this eye shadow! Jody, that's nice..."

That ended the part of the conversation that interested me. Maybe I should call Steven and suggest another activity for the evening.

Sighing, I stripped my bed. I got clean sheets from the linen closet and held them to my face to catch the faint smell of bleachy, soft cotton. After I tucked in the comers Army-style, I gathered the old sheets, picked dirty clothes off the floor, and emptied my gym bag into the hamper.

I found a dollar bill in my pants pocket, so I got my wallet and put in the cash. It held the usual student ID, my debit card, and my learner's permit. I smiled to see my state-issued ID card. It looked just like a driver's license. Jess and I each got one when Dad took us to renew the truck plate. Nobody else in our class had one, and it was kind of a status symbol. A lot of times, Dad really seemed to understand us in a way most adults couldn't.

I lifted the hamper and headed down to do the laundry.

I stopped and waived as I went by Jessie's room and said, "Hi ladies!" They were painting their fingernails and toenails. Pink and purple. Yeah, seriously. I reached in and took her hamper from beside the door.

"Thanks, bro." Jess said unenthusiastically, returning to her nails.

"Bye, Cooory!" That was Jody. I paused in the hall, listening.

"You let him do your laundry, girl? That's icky."

"We share the chores, Janna."

"I think it's cool." Beth said. "You know what's icky? Your little brother, Janna. He smells bad."

"I'm not going to do Harrad's laundry," Janna said. "He can stink if he's too stubborn."

"Your brother's so nice, Jess. I love his blue eyes." Jody's compliment made me smile. I always thought they looked good--bright, like Mom's, with little flecks of Dad's gray if you looked closely.

"Have you ever wondered why doesn't he have a girlfriend?"

"Too shy, Bethy girl," Janna clucked. "And with a face like his I don't blame him."

"You are so mean, Janna!" Beth said. "I think he's sweet,"

"Does he ever talk to you about the girls he likes?" Jody asked. "Has he ever said anything about me?"

"Sorry guys, he and I don't talk about stuff like that. For a while I thought he might be interested in someone, but I was way wrong. It just doesn't seem that important to him. Everybody thinks he's so nice, but he can be a real asshole."

"Lisa said she's tried flirting with him a couple times," Jody said, "just to see if she could get a reaction, but he was totally clueless."

"He's so much like your dad," Beth said. "I wonder how he'd look with a beard."

Janna chimed in, "Ah, Jody, he does have nice eyes, but he's too brainy for me. You know who I think's cute?"

Jody cut her off. "Janna, my dog's cute, but he's too brainy for you, too." They all shrieked and giggled.

"What about you, Jess? Who would you like to date?"

"No one right now, Jody."

"Like any boy in this town would date a dark-skinned girl," Janna sighed.

"I hate to say it Janna, but you might be right about that," Jody said. "What do you think, Jess?"

"Me? What makes you think I'd go for some pasty white boy?" I could tell it was meant to be funny, but I caught the strain in her voice.

I carried the wash downstairs.

# Chapter 35

When Spaz came over it was almost seven.

"Hi Mr. L!" he yelled as he hopped down the hall. He stopped short at Jessie's door and bowed low and royally, saying "Good evening, Your Highness." Then he broke character, vaulted into my room and flopped on the bed.

"So," he demanded, now the King of Siam, "tell me of this 'homework' with which you are so preoccupied."

"Just double-checking references for Current Events tomorrow. I don't suppose you've given any thought to a topic yet?"

"Refresh my memory. What does the Palminator require of us?"

"Five pages on morality and law."

"That's an oxymoron."

I laughed, but then said, "Hey, you know what, Rob? That's a pretty good thesis. I'll bet you could make a case that they're unrelated, if not mutually exclusive."

"Brilliant! I'll start at the Garden of Eden. It was a set-up from the start. God's only law? Don't eat the apple. But he makes that nice couple into very curious critters, gives them free will, and then plants the tree in the middle of their garden. When even that doesn't work, he sends is a slick-talking, phallically-shaped animal to charm the girl."

I started to snicker.

"Better yet," he said, "he didn't warn them of the consequences. Instead of allowing them to learn from their mistake, he kicks them out. What kind of free will is that? They had no chance and he knew it. Now I ask you--it's that moral?"

"Then we'll move to the US constitution, the supreme law of the land, which proclaims that you are fully human only if you have a severe melanin deficiency. That was, of course, later amended to read 'only if you have testicles,' which in turn was amended to 'okay, girls can vote but you still don't have to pay them as much.' Right?

"...And then I'll cede the floor to whoever chose capital punishment. There you have it, one presentation. Now all I have to do is extract the humor, destroy the delivery, scribe it down like a monk, and turn it in tomorrow morning. It could happen."

It was a good act, but I could tell something wasn't right.

"You look uncharacteristically glum. What's going on?" I asked.

"My mom has a new boyfriend." He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, you told me. Todd the God, right?"

He grimaced. "No, she kicked out Mr. Muscles last week. This one is even worse, A Stray Named Stu. Or maybe Stewed would be more like it."

"He drinks?"

"Yeah," Spaz said. "A lot."

"Which means your mom is back to..."

Spaz nodded, stood and bellowed, "O thou invisible spirit of wine! If thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil!"

"That sucks," I said as he sat down again. "Othello, right?"

"Excellent. Act two, scene three."

"So, is that what you're escaping from tonight?"

"Three cackling sisters and a mosquito mother." He flapped his hands like little wings.

"What's a mosquito mother?"

"Kinda like a helicopter mom, but she hovers much closer, and with the intent of sucking the lifeblood from you."

"Well, no, she doesn't have a history of being dangerously overprotective."

"This new boyfriend may be exceptional. I get a bad vibe, but I can't name it. He's extra creepy. I'm not sure the females are safe there without me, but acting on my doubts was overruled by Captain Morgan."

"Uh, that's seriously not good," I said, as Amanda's face came to mind. "How can I be of service?"

"Not to worry. I thought I'd have your dad walk me home in a few."

"Good plan." I turned in the desk chair. "How's your dad, Rob?"

"Bitter, lonely, and depressed, but darned cheerful about it."

"Oh, that's where you get it. Tell him I said 'Hi,' okay?"

"Will do. I'm trying to get his old Buick running."

"That rusted out old thing? It's a heap."

"Yeah, but I've got my license now. It'd be nice to be able to drive up and see him without having to depend on my mommy."

He described how he had been troubleshooting the electrical system, and finally got it to start. He thought maybe there was still a problem with the linkage. I didn't know what that was, so he explained that, too.

There was a tap at the door. "Hey, guys." Dad cracked the door a couple inches. "I'm about ready to get settled in. Robert, if you were going to invite me for a walk, this might be a good time to do it."

"Why Mr. L., that's a great idea! Would you care for a walk?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Rob raised his hand. "Okay, Cory, I'll talk to ya tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay. G'night, Spaz."

# Chapter 36--Thu. Dec. 8

On Thursday, we had to present our papers for Current Events. Spaz got up early, threw together his essay, and presented it with great drama.

It was just as well that I didn't talk about incest. The news about Amanda wasn't out, and like Dad had said, people might've reacted badly. I hated standing in front of the class and having everyone stare at my scarred face.

Jessie had such poise in front of the room. Mr. Palmer asked her to go last, probably because anyone who followed might be distracted by the predictable debates about abortion. As it was, the arguments started in the hall after class.

It was disappointing, if unsurprising. The kids just seemed to parrot whatever they'd heard at home or at church. It was all black and white, us versus them. Nobody listened or tried to understand a differing view. Eventually, Mr. Harding came by and broke it up.

Spaz sat across from me at lunch. Looking over his shoulder, I glanced at Jessie with her friends. The girls clumped together, chattering about who liked who, who was cute, and their favorite stars and music. It struck me that she dressed more provocatively--tighter jeans, thinner tops, lower necklines... and the makeup. But then again, I thought that about all the girls. It was probably just me.

The big news at lunch was about Danny Yirzbik and his boys, and what they had done to Amanda. They were arraigned at the 94th District, and bound over to the 47th Circuit. We heard that it was a circus. There was actually a network satellite truck in the street downtown.

Thinking about Amanda, I looked around the lunch room, wondering what burdens each person bore. Some I knew. Jaime Todd's dad just walked out on the family, and Jeremy's dad went to jail. Jer sent all his allowance to the canteen account so his dad could buy cigs. Nancy smoked weed that she stole from her mom. I knew a couple of kids whose parents had lost their jobs. There was Staci. Her older brother had clinical depression, and she hadn't been the same since he committed suicide last year.

And then there was Robert, Spaz. His parents were divorced, and he didn't get to see his dad very often. His mother had mental problems and drank a lot when she was on a down swing. He sat across the table scarfing the sandwiches I brought for him. I knew that sometimes it was his only meal of the day.

A kid everybody called Moose walked by, on his way to sit with the other hockey players.

"Hey Spaz. See ya in the penalty box." He joked. Rob couldn't seem to shoot a goal to save his life, but was intimidating on defense. He was good at turnovers, but often too aggressive when it came to checking.

I watched people's faces when they heard the news about Amanda, thinking that maybe I could catch a reaction that was different from the others. Rob read my mind as he often seemed to.

"Too bad you didn't do your original topic for your paper, huh?"

"Everybody's uncomfortable with the subject, and apparently it's too taboo to discuss outside of the hype."

Spaz looked both ways to see if anyone could hear us. Satisfied, he said softly, "Can I ask you something, Cory?"

Spaz had never sought permission to ask anything. "Sure, go ahead."

"What's it like to be in love?"

The question nearly knocked me off the chair. "How would I know?"

"Cory, there's a lot that you don't say. Me, on the other hand, well, you know. A lot of times I don't even know what I'm thinking before it comes out of my mouth. But you... I think, that, um... You've never said anything, but I just get that feeling. You have a serious crush on a girl."

I was already shaking my head, ready to deny anything.

"That's not what I want to say--let me start over. I have a crush on a girl."

"Really? That's excellent."

He looked startled that I'd be pleased. "It feels like a death sentence."

"Why? Dude! Being in love's pure adrenalin, and you love adrenalin."

He cracked a crooked smile. "Yeah, yeah, I do."

"Who's the lucky young lady? I'm guessing Jody."

"Well, yeah, she's like my dream girl, but I'm too dumb for her."

"So, who?"

"Not yet. I haven't decided what I want to do about it."

"Maybe you have a cold or something. Normally you'd be under her window cranking out a death metal love song with the amp turned to eleven."

"That's true," he pondered. "But for once I care whether I screw things up or not."

"Rob, you're who you are. Just be you."

"Really? Okay, thanks. That means a lot to me."

A couple seniors sat down near us, and we finished our lunch in silence.

As we got up he nudged me with his elbow. "About your paper--would've been a gutsy move, dude. Considering, I mean."

"You mean Amanda?"

"Amanda? Oh, I get it."

"What do you mean, Rob?"

"You know what I mean."

Those five words churned in my stomach all afternoon.

After the bell, a reporter stood outside the school. Some students talked on camera. I slipped onto the bus as invisibly as I could manage. I wondered what would happen if anyone found out the tip came from a boy who wanted to sleep with his sister.

# Chapter 37

When we got home from school, a note on the counter said, "I checked the choke on the snow blower. It should be fine now." In other words, clear the driveway and the sidewalk.

I'd have to do it right away. Jess had invited Jody and Beth over in about a half hour, and I planned to sit by the vent. I'd even thought ahead and turned the thermostat down so the furnace ran less often.

The old snow blower started right up. It was noisy, but cut through the powdery snow with ease. It beat the heck out of shoveling. I just wished that the roar of the motor would drown out the noise in my head. It only took me twenty minutes to clear the drive and walk. I hurried to put the machine away. In minutes, I was at the vent, under the ruse of reading a book.

"So, how's our lovelorn hostess?" Janna asked. That got my attention right away.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jess said.

"Oh please. You're pining for some boy." That almost snapped my neck.

"It's totally obvious." Jody confirmed. "We we've been discussing it for days and hoping you'd clue us in."

Obvious? I didn't know about it, and neither did my friends--they understood how I guarded my sister, and would've let me know. Billy Raymond once said he wanted to ask her out, and asked me what his chances might be. I told him to go ahead, but if he got out of line I'd break his legs and kill his dog.

"You never go out." Jody continued.

"Sure I do."

"Like when?"

"I don't know. Once in a while."

"So, we'll see you at the Snowball Dance? Huh?" Jody teased. "I didn't think so."

"You don't even talk about boys. That's just not normal, girl."

"Even if you were right, which you aren't, so what?" Sis objected. "It's not like..."

"You're swimming in denial, girl. Whoever it is, just tell him you have the major hots for him and get it over with."

"He... Shit. Okay, fine. He knows, but he hates me. Are you happy now?"

Oh no, I thought, it's true! She does have a crush! Crap, I thought. I was going to have to kill someone. He didn't like her back, though. Maybe he was safe, for now.

"Just tell us who it is, okay girlie?"

"Can we just change the subject?" Jessie groaned.

"It's your brother, isn't it?" Janna said. The room fell silent.

I froze. My blood turned to stone. My brain screamed. How could she know? Oh my God, no! No! I'd been so careful! What gave it away? If Janna could tell, anyone could. It would all come out now--the same day as the news about Amanda! This couldn't be worse.

# Chapter 38

"You're afraid he might break your boyfriend's legs." Janna continued. After what seemed like years, I started to breathe again. That was way too close.

"Janna, lay off, okay?" Beth said. "This isn't funny. I'm sorry we brought it up, Jess."

"Yeah, I'm sorry too, Jess," Jody apologized. "You'll tell us when you're ready."

"Is his name Aaron? Andy? Bill? No? How about...?"

"Knock it off, Janna, Jody hissed. "I mean it."

Well, there it is, I thought. I'd imagined that somehow Jessie and I could find a way to be together. If she was in love with someone else that meant she wasn't in love with me. At least he didn't return the feeling. Maybe if I found some way, maybe she'd still settle for me. I knew that was insane, but rational thought eluded me. Jessie's in love--thankfully unrequited so far, but still, it's basically over, just over. I might as well kill myself.

Godammit! How I wished that I could! It was bad enough that she was orphaned, and then lost Mom. I was still her brother, and even if she did hate me she'd be devastated. I was cursed, and the weight was unbearable. My life was hopeless. At least if I stayed alive I could still watch out for her. But who was it? Crap. It could be anybody. How could I find out?

Steven wasn't the one, though--I could scratch him from my potential enemies list. And it wasn't Billy, it was a boy who didn't like her. Who doesn't like Jess, though? A couple guys had said racist things, but they seemed unlikely... A junior or senior, maybe? One of the guys in her karate class?

"Maybe he doesn't even know I'm a female." Jessie sighed. "Look at me! I'm so sick of being a little girl!"

"Ha, yeah! You're like auto insurance, girlie, triple-A!"

"Don't worry, Jess. You'll catch up."

"Easy for you to say, Little Miss C-Cup."

"No really," Jody said, "I started late that way, too. It'll be okay."

"But Jody, you have those hips and stuff. I'm almost sixteen and I'm still flat as a board. I look like a nine-year-old." The other girls giggled. I felt bad that Jessie didn't like her body. I couldn't understand it. It was a shame she couldn't see herself through my eyes.

"Are you kidding me?" Janna was, in the context of the conversation, the most generously endowed. "I'd kill for your figure. You can eat whatever you want and not gain an ounce. Be careful what you wish for, skinny girl."

The furnace blower turned on, drowning out the conversation, but I was done listening.

Jessie was in love. There was nothing else that I cared about.

I was mopping the kitchen floor when the girls left.

"See ya Janna. Bye, Jody--nice parka." It wasn't like me to be sarcastic, but fluorescent pink? "Hey, Beth, can I talk to you?"

"What's up, Cory?"

"How are you doing? How's Dave?" I asked.

"Dave's good. He's taking guitar lessons. Do you still play? I never hear you anymore."

"A little." I licked my lips. "Look, I heard that Jess's interested in some boy. Is that true?"

Beth looked uncomfortable.

"I need to know who it is."

"Why?" she asked.

"I just need to."

"Look, Cory, you're a really nice guy, except when it comes to your sister. You just want me to give you a name so you can threaten some guy who likes her, and scare him away. Everybody knows what you said to Billy."

"So, who is it?"

"No, Cory, I'm not going to be in the middle of this. I can't tell you."

That pissed me off. "Can't or won't?"

"Both. Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you. Your sister's right. You really can be an asshole."

I don't know what made me angrier, the thought of Jessie with some boy or how badly I just screwed that up.

# Chapter 39

"What's up, Spaz?"

"As the only male in a house of four women I was just overwhelmed. I had to escape from the estrogen palace." Calmed by a vigorous workout on the ice, he seemed content just to sit on the comer of my bed.

I got up and closed my door, and threw a pillow over the heat register. He raised his eyebrows.

"What did you mean at lunch today?" I demanded.

"Exactly what you think I meant. Cory, you're my best friend, and I know you as well as anybody, though that's not much of a brag." He sighed. "You're like a can of pop rolled down cement stairs."

I was scared and furious. "So, I'm tense. So what?"

He just stared at me.

"What?!" I insisted.

"Okay, let's air this out. We're both in lust with the same girl."

"Clarify or die," I threatened.

"Jessie, stupid."

All I could muster was "Shit." Then I realized what I had just admitted. It took a minute or two before I could speak. I was way out on a limb here, but I had to be honest. I couldn't believe it actually came out of my mouth. "You're right, I love Jessie."

"I can understand why," he agreed. "She's hot."

"But I can't have her--I can't even tell her. The risks are way too high."

"Yeah, I understand that. Don't worry--your secret's safe with me. If Liz knew I have a jones for her she'd kick the crap out of me."

"What?" Liz was his older sister, slim, buxom and eighteen. "Are you crazy?"

"You know I am, dude. I'm hornier than Faunus at a wood nymph convention--I'd take my sister in a second, so I understand your frustration."

"It's not like that."

"Whatever." He leered. "You have something going on, though, right?"

"No, Rob," I hissed. "Nothing's going on."

"Ah, I see. Everybody knows you're crazy about her. Just not how crazy."

"What do you mean?"

He stroked his chin. "Why do you issue death threats to any potential suitors?"

"I'm just protecting her--from the wrong kind of guys."

After a long pause he asked, "What kind of guy am I, Cory? Am I the right kind?"

"You're the insane kind..."

He smiled.

"Wait, Spaz, you want to date Jessie?"

"Duh. If you don't object, of course."

"And if I do object?"

He shrugged. "I don't want to stress our friendship. I thought you'd be supportive. You're fond of both of us, and want us to be happy. For you, it's impossible, but not for me. You can trust me to treat her well."

Just the thought of consciously giving up my dream crushed my lungs, and the pain literally brought tears to my eyes. I slumped into the desk chair.

"Whoa, Cory, If I crossed the line here I'm sorry. But it's like you don't want her to date anyone, and I don't understand. It's not like you and she could... Could... Cory?"

I hid my face in my hands.

"Shit, dude. What did I say? What...? Oh, fuck, Cory... You mean, like, you really love her?"

"Rob, it isn't right."

"Wow. That is... That's... Wow. Does she know?" I shook my head. "You're right, Rob you two should just..." But I couldn't say it. "I can't be any more miserable than I am, so why should you be miserable too? I'm not going to compete with you."

Rob pulled me out of the chair and put his arms around me in a bear hug.

"Cory, you're so totally and completely screwed, but you and me, we're brothers. We take care of each other first, okay?"

I wiped my face. "Thanks, man. You're a good friend--the best."

"I'm not going to be your rival, Cory. This is too complicated already. Forget I said anything. And don't worry," he said, "I'll have a plan for you by morning." I had to smile.

"You?" I asked. "You're going to concoct a plan? Now I'm really scared. I already have the plan. I do absolutely nothing, and you say absolutely nothing, to anyone. This is really, really serious, especially with the Yirzbiks in the news."

"Oh, yeah. I guess so. Does anybody else know?"

"I don't think so. I sure hope not. How did you figure it out? I don't want anyone else to."

He nodded. "Just the way you look at her sometimes."

"How's that?"

"Hmm, very... affectionately, with just a hint of a rabid dog on a short chain."

# Chapter 40--Fri. Dec. 9

Friday after school, I pulled Olie from under my bed, unlatched and opened the old wooden guitar case. Sometimes when I played, my mind went blank, and I'd figure out things I didn't even realize I was pondering. I needed to think.

Spaz knew, and he'd never kept a secret in his life. What an idiot! Why didn't I just deny it? Now what could I do?

My guitar teacher said practice wasn't as important as playing. Joel was sneaky that way. He'd find out what a student wanted to play the most, and taught that. Usually it had to be a simplified version to start with, but he said that bought him time. A lot of kids wanted to learn new stuff, songs that Joel didn't even know. He said he'd teach himself how to play it, so he knew how to teach somebody else.

He claimed that he was burdened with master's mind. He had internalized so much that he no longer thought about how to play something, which made it hard to explain to others. He said that learning something new all the time kept him close to a beginner's mind.

He also said that guitar isn't an easy instrument, and takes some powerful incentive. Fortunately, girls like guys who play guitar, and that's why so many teenage guys persevere--they're highly motivated. While I wasn't out to get any groupies, I had to agree about the perseverance. I had to get my fingers just right so the strings didn't buzz or go thunk.

I could strum and do a little flat-picking, but was starting to figure out fingerpicking, too. I worked on that a while. When the house was empty, I sometimes felt brave enough to sing along out loud. Ever since my voice changed, it sounded wrong to me.

No answers came to me. When my fingers got sore, I quit. I'd long ago developed calluses on the fingertips of my left hand, but the picking fingers on my right hand were still tender. I could understand why some people wore fingerpicks. After dampening the humidifier in the bathroom sink, I gently laid Olie back in his case.

Through the vent I heard Beth talking to Jessie.

# Chapter 41

"I heard your Current Events paper was quite a hit."

"Not really. I'd hoped that it'd make people think, but instead they just talked past each other."

"Can I read it?"

"Sure, just a sec--I'll get it."

The vent stayed silent for a few minutes. I might've given up eavesdropping, but I figured that this could be an interesting conversation.

"That's pretty good, Jessie. So, you think there are times when it's okay?"

"Sure. Like especially if the mother had some health risk, or the baby would die at birth anyway. I think that's a no-brainer."

"Even that would be hard," Beth said. "I mean to actually kill a baby?"

"I think that has to be left up to the mom's best judgment. I guess it already is. It's not like laws will stop abortions. Condoms and education are probably more effective. Rich people will have them done safely, and poor women will find someone, but it won't be safe. Some of them will die along with the baby. That doesn't make much sense to me. The only real choice's whether they're legal or illegal, in other words, whether all the moms get to live or not."

"No, you don't understand. I'm not talking about public policy, Jess. How can a person choose?"

"If it's available and safe, I think it's okay either way. I know I'd have a tough time with that decision, and I couldn't judge someone. There are just too many... Are you okay, Beth?"

A long pause followed.

"I'm in trouble, Jess."

"You mean you're..."

"Pregnant, yeah."

"Oh, Beth! No way, really?"

"Yeah. I really fucked this up."

"Wait--aren't you on the pill now?"

"I must have messed them up. If my mom finds them I don't always remember where I was. I thought I was safe, but now I've missed two periods."

"That might just be from messing up the pills."

"No, I peed on one of those stick things and got the plus sign."

"Oh shit. Have you told Dave?"

"No," she moaned. "Jessie, I don't even know if it's his."

"What?! Oh my God, what happened?"

"Remember when Dave and I broke up for a while in October? I was really mad, and..." She choked. "His brother..."

"Steven? You and Steven?"

Oh, God! I couldn't imagine her and that little jerk Steven. I couldn't imagine Beth being pregnant--she seemed to have her life together. But Steven?

"No, Dave's older brother, Rick. He came home from college for the weekend."

"Did he force you or coerce you?"

"No. No, it wasn't like that. I... At the time... I wanted it. I was just so angry at Dave... At first, he wasn't even willing, but I, ugh, I kinda talked him into it. He was really sweet and gentle. He knew it was my first time and he... I can't believe I'm telling you. He made me get on top, and go as slow as I wanted. He asked me several times if I wanted to quit and said it'd be okay if I did. I should have quit. I knew it, but I did it anyway."

"Does anyone else know? Do you think he told anybody?"

"I don't think so. He promised not to--he said I'd given him a gift, and that it was something he'd treasure. You know him. He's really nice."

"What about Dave, though? You must've had..."

"Two days later, when we made up. I lied and said he was my first. I wanted him to be."

"But what about your hymen? There'd be no blood."

Leave it to Jessie to get to the details.

Beth laughed nervously. "I lost my cherry years ago," she confessed. "I was sore for days."

In a great imitation of Jodi's voice, Jessie said, "Eew." They both giggled.

"I've told Dave no ever since, so I know I'm seven weeks."

"Why? I mean, not to be indelicate, but what's the harm now?"

"I'm too messed up. I can't even think about it. It's like I'm afraid he'll just look at me and be able to tell I cheated."

"So, what do you tell him?"

"At first I said I had a bladder infection and he backed off."

Too much information, I thought. Some stuff I just didn't want to know. But yeah, that would've made me back off.

"But he knows that would have cleared up long ago. He says I'm just a tease. Maybe I am. But it's like now he's entitled or something. He says I'm holding out on him. I guess I am, but I hate when he talks that way."

"Beth, I'm so sorry! This is awful. What are you going to do?"

"Oh, God, I don't know. I wonder if it wouldn't be best to just end it now. Then nobody has to know."

"Okay, listen, there are only a few possibilities. Let's figure this out. Door number one, you end it now. What are the pros and cons?"

"Things go on as normal except that I hate myself for the rest of my life. If I have an abortion and tell Dave about it..."

"Wait, Beth, don't get ahead of yourself. Could you really go through with it? I mean, yeah, it's logically one choice, but is it really an option for you?"

"Maybe, Jessie, I don't know."

"That means it's an option, if you aren't rejecting it out of hand. Okay, if you do that, would you tell Dave?"

"I don't think I could. It wasn't his fault. He thought we were safe. He'd freak on me."

"If you didn't tell him, and he found out?"

"I'm not sure he could handle that. He'd probably dump me."

"Okay, so door number one is aborting it, hating yourself, and lying about it to your boyfriend. If he finds out, you have no baby and no boyfriend, but you can finish school and go to college. Door number two, have the baby and give it up for adoption."

''No, that's not going to happen," Beth said. "If I don't stop it, it'll rain shit in a million ways. I'm not going through that just to give it up."

"So that leaves us with door number three. Have the baby and keep it. It rains shit in a million ways."

"That's where I get confused. My dad's not around--he's always away on a rig in the Gulf, and my mom would disown me before she'd help me raise a baby--she'd be livid. She's so judgmental. Dave's folks might help, might even let us live there."

"What would happen to your life? Would you finish high school? Go to college? Get a job? Go on welfare?"

"Oh, God, Jessie. That's just it. I don't want to be that girl--the one other people point out to their kids and say 'See? That's what happens when you screw up your life,' you know?"

"Yeah, I get it. One more question. What if you keep the baby and it turns out to be Rick's? They might know just by the blood type."

"What do you mean?"

"What blood types are you and Dave?"

"I'm an A negative, and he's--um--he's an O. The Red Cross keeps calling him. I don't know if he's positive or negative, though."

"So, he has two type O genes--they're recessive. You have one A gene for sure, and the other's either an A or an O. So, if the baby has type B or AB, it can't be Dave's."

"Oh, shit. That'd wreck everything. I'd be totally cut off. Everybody I care about would reject me. I'd be sixteen, have a baby and nobody to help, so Child Services might even take it away."

"So that's door number four, worst case scenario. The other option's lying about the pregnancy to your boyfriend and hating yourself for ending it. Does that help?"

"Yeah, I see it clear... I know what I have to do. First, there'll be no question about blood types or genetics. I'm going to assume Dave's the father--any other possibility vanishes right here, right now, okay?"

"Okay, Beth. I'd never betray your trust."

"I know."

"But that means..." Beth paused. Her voice came out calm and steady, maybe even relieved. "Yeah. It means--it rips up my heart--but I need an abortion. I'm sorry, it's awful, but that's how I see it."

"It's alright, go on."

"I guess, as the father, Dave still holds half of the responsibility, and I guess he has a right to know. I have to tell him... Just not about Rick."

"He's going to question whether you were taking your pills. But we all know nothing works all the time."

"No, this is entirely my mom's fault. If she hadn't messed with my pills none of this would've happened. I hope Dave understands that. I'm going to ask him to go with me. If he loves me enough, he will."

"I think he will."

"Jess, I'm so scared. But I'm so blessed to have a friend like you. You're the only person in the world who could help me today." Then her voice became shaky again. "What if Dave won't go with me? Will you come hold my hand?"

"Oh, Beth, of course I will."

The furnace came back on.

How could Beth be pregnant? I felt awful for her. And I was angry. Beth was so smart! How could she have had sex without a condom? Twice! I felt angry at Rick for cheating with his brother's girlfriend. Sure, she got him going, but didn't he have any self-control?

Mostly I was angry with Rick and Dave for not protecting Beth. There was no excuse.

# Chapter 42

Spaz called late Friday evening all cranked up. He'd mustered his courage and asked Jody go to out on a date with him, and they ended up talking for an hour. He was goofy with excitement. I reminded him not to say anything about my feelings for Jess. He said he hadn't, but I still worried.

I was up late watching TV, trying unsuccessfully to numb my mind, when Dad pulled into the driveway. He strolled through the kitchen, and leaned against the wall in front of me.

He didn't even say hello, which was strange. "Why don't you turn that off, Cory? I need to talk to you."

I switched off the program, concerned and confused. Had I really messed up somehow?

"Your school paper..." He sat down in his chair. "The one on incest."

My shoulders twitched. I shouldn't have taken that risk... Now it was too late. This was going to be bad.

"The subject has been in my mind all week--probably yours, too. I've decided that I need to get something off my chest." I closed my eyes hard, waiting for his wrath. "There's something I never told you, Son--never told anyone. Your Aunt Mel knows, and it's why she's still so angry with me."

I exhaled as slowly as possible. I'd lucked out, big time. This wasn't about me. But then what could he possibly... I was just glad not to be the focus of the conversation. I looked at him, waiting.

Dad swallowed hard. "Cory, when I was your age, I fell in love for the first time. She wasn't a blood relative, just a cousin by marriage. But she was like a sister in a lot of ways." He had my ears.

"Her family had a big house, and we lived with them for a couple years. We grew up together. A lot of horrible things went on around us. The kind of things that no kid should have to know. But we loved each other, and protected each other, and I truly believe that love saved our lives. We were too young to get married, but so far as we were concerned, we were married in front of God."

"You were married in your hearts. I get it."

"We, well, we started out kissing, but ended up having sex." His face darkened. "When she was sixteen, I got her pregnant."

I couldn't believe he was telling me this.

"It started a war between our families. It wasn't entirely my fault, but I'd kicked over the first domino. My uncle threw my whole family out. My father started drinking, my parents divorced. Mel and I were passed around from house to house like furniture.

"My cousin and I didn't see each other for years. They made her... It was awful. We were both heartbroken. But after I got out of the Army, I found her, and it was as if we'd never been apart. We got married officially, and I felt like God gave my whole life back to me."

"You never said you were married before you met Mom." This was indeed a secret.

"My cousin's name was Emma," he said.

"The same as Mom's? You had two wives and... Wait. But... Mom was your cousin?"

"That's right, Cory. A lot of people would still disapprove of us today. But you know about those taboos."

A chill crept up my spine, making me flinch. Good time to redirect the conversation. "How could you get married if you were cousins?"

"I guess that technically we were, but not biologically."

"Was it hard finding someone to do it?"

"Not really. I had a friend, a Priest I knew in the Army."

"A Catholic priest?"

"Yeah, your Mom and I didn't leave the Church until you were three or so."

"So, what about the baby? Does that mean I have another sister, or a brother?"

"Your mom's family made her give the little boy up for adoption. That was the hardest thing she ever did."

I remembered how Dad had talked about the pain of fathering a child that you'd never see again.

"Where is he now?"

"A couple from Wisconsin adopted him. Then, when he was about six--before you were born--a friend helped us find him. We got to see him on a playground with his mom. They seemed happy, and we felt content with that. We left our information with a search organization, in case he ever tried to find us. He'd be twenty-one now. Every day I wonder if he might call."

"Did he look like me?"

"Yeah. A lot. Your school picture from first grade looks just like him."

"That feels really weird. Are there any other kids I should know about?"

"No, we... Had problems. We had a little girl, but she was stillborn. We were so excited when you came along. It was the best day of our lives." He smiled. "But after you, Mom couldn't have another baby, and we still wanted more."

"Is that why you adopted Jessie?"

"We even talked about getting one or two more, but then..."

But then I killed her.

"Thanks for trusting me with that. Why now?"

"Son, you're at an age where young people start to make serious decisions about love and sex, but don't always think about the consequences. I didn't do so well, and I'm not proud of it. But maybe knowing my experience will help you when you have to make choices. Besides, it's not something I'd want you to hear from someone else."

"Who else knows?"

"Grampa Joe and your aunts."

"Are you going to tell Jessie?"

He closed his eyes and sighed. "I guess I should, but I don't think she wants to hear anything like this from me. We get along okay on a superficial level, but anything deeper seems to drive her further away."

"I can tell her if you want."

"Do you think she'd be open to that?"

"I think so."

"Thank you, Son." He put his hand on my shoulder and I could feel it shaking.

# Chapter 43--Sat. Dec. 10

Saturday morning, Dad and I waited outside the dojo and talked about that week's bombing in Jerusalem. He explained how Israel had been created, and how the people who lived there before had lost their homes. Everybody had a logical reason for what they did, he said, and the killings would go on until enough people got tired of it and they could agree on a just solution. He called it a charley foxtrot.

After we picked up Jess, we stopped by the hardware store and bought a couple new showerheads. Then Dad dropped us off at home and left for work. I installed the new fixtures and checked them for leaks. I caught myself in the mirror and wished I could just break it. Every time I saw my face I felt that crushing rush of shame.

I sat on the couch with a pad of paper, jotting down stuff we needed from the store. My stomach churned with anxiety. Spaz knew, so soon everyone would. It was out of my hands now, and I didn't want Jessie to hear it from anyone else first. Besides, I told myself, I have to do something before she gets another guy, or regret it forever. That was crazy thinking and I knew it.

I heard Jess opening the fridge.

"Hey, Sis? How are we set for eggs?"

"We need some, and more cheese--but not that Swiss we got last time. How about some Provolone? And margarine." I heard cupboards open and close. "Do you have pasta on the list?"

"Good idea. We should get a couple."

"Do you want a soda?" she asked.

"Yeah, thanks. Do we have any root beer left?"

"Last one," She walked barefoot into the living room carrying two pops. She handed one to me and sat down on the other end of the sofa.

"Nice shirt," I said. "Is that new?"

"Yeah, I found it at Sears last week. Seven bucks on clearance. Dad said you wanted to talk to me. What's up?"

"When he got home last night he told me some more stuff about our family. He wanted you to know, too."

"Why didn't he just talk to both of us?" she asked.

"You were already asleep."

She shrugged. "Okay, so what's going on?"

I opened the can of pop and explained to her the things Dad had said, as well as I could.

"So, let me see if I have this straight," she said. "Great-Grandpa Laine had two sons, Joe and Mike, and our Dad's Mike Jr.?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Then Grandma Sophia married Joe, but she already had a daughter from her first marriage."

"Right," I confirmed, "...and that was Mom."

"So," she said, "the crazy aunts--Oona and Maria--are Mom's half-sisters, and Dad's biologically their cousin, but not Mom's biological cousin."

"Correct."

She knitted her brow. "Wow, that's confusing."

"Especially because they all--plus Aunt Mel--grew up in the same house, as if they were brothers and sisters.

"So, when Mom got pregnant everybody found out about the two of them. Yeah, I can see how that would've upset things. That explains why Aunt Mel's mad at him."

"Yeah, she probably blames Dad for all their family's problems. Aunt Oona and Aunt Maria know about it, too, but I think they have their own demons to worry about."

"I feel bad for him," she said.

"Me too, Sis. That's a lot to carry around inside you."

"I hope someday Dad will find your brother."

"Our brother," I corrected. "And yes, I hope so too. I'm not sure how, but someday I'm going to try to find him."

It was good to talk with her easily like this, without her usual bitterness, and thought I'd give it a shot. I finished the soda and set the can on the floor. As casually as I could, I said, "Oh, on Thursday I talked with Beth. She seemed to think you were interested in a boy, and that maybe he'd hurt your feelings."

She shrugged.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She stared at the floor, obviously debating the question. "No, it doesn't matter now, and you'd probably just get angry."

Yeah, she was right about that. I reached out and took her hand.

"Okay Sissy. I know that things aren't good between us, and that I can be a jerk sometimes. It's just that I'm very protective of you. But I'm always here for you, you know."

"I know, thanks, bro."

"I'm getting cabin fever. I'm going out for a walk."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine. I just need some air."

# Chapter 44

I bundled up against the December wind and trudged through the neighborhood's snowy streets. The Catholic church was only four blocks away, and I looked up as I walked past St. Ann's brick façade.

A light was on in the rectory. A lump in my throat, I climbed the porch steps and rang the bell.

I didn't want to talk with Father Neil. He served as the Youth Minister and still in his twenties. He saw things as being right or wrong, black or white. Beth's mom thought the sun rose and set in him, but he rubbed me the wrong way.

I was relieved when Father John answered the door. He was old and kind, and his sermons were usually good lessons wrapped in funny stories.

"Cory?" Father John said, surprised. "Come in out the cold, please. How nice of you to stop by. I was just making some tea. Would you care for a cup?"

"No, thank you. Uh, Father?" It still felt weird to call somebody that. "I didn't mean to interrupt..."

"Don't talk crazy--you're always welcome. Did you come to see Father Neil? I'm afraid he's out."

"No, I hoped you'd be home."

"Oh," he seemed surprised. "How nice. I'm popular with the young Laines this week. So," he said, leading me to the kitchen, "how can I help?"

"What, um, when do you do confessions?"

He retrieved a second mug from the cupboard and poured some of his steaming brew into it.

I thanked him, and we sat at the kitchen table.

"Well, Cory, we call it Reconciliation, because the sacrament is about forgiveness, not guilt. Is there something you need to talk about?"

"Uh, yeah," I had no idea how this worked, and I hated that feeling. "Do we need to go next door?" It took him a moment to understand. "Oh, no, the kitchen is just fine."

"But do the rules still apply here?" I asked, "Are you still bound to secrecy?"

"Yes, I am, Cory. And you don't have to recite anything, just tell me what's on your mind."

"Oh, okay, good," I said with great relief.

His cat wandered into the kitchen and stretched out next to the radiator.

I thought about where to begin. "Well, first, I've been lying a lot." He didn't say anything, just waited. "Every day. For over two years."

"You are hiding something, no? Can you tell me about your secret?"

I had decided to do this before I even left the house, but the habit of silence was strong. All the pressure holding it in for so long, and now this good man had invited me to speak it. I just blurted it out.

"I'm in love with my sister."

Nothing happened. No lightning or earthquakes. The old priest sipped his tea, peering at me over the rim. "...and?"

"And what?" I asked.

"That's your big secret?" he asked. "That you love your sister?"

"But not like a brother's supposed to." I was confused. Even from him I expected condemnation. It was if it wasn't a big deal at all. I think minutes passed until I could ask, "Isn't that a sin?"

"To love someone? No, of course not. Drink your tea."

I took a sip. It was hot and smooth.

"Have you done anything to harm her, Cory?"

"No way, Father! I'd never do that."

"I expected not. And you have kept your feelings to yourself? Why?"

I started to wonder if he'd understood me. "Because! Because I don't want to be... like the Yirzbiks. I don't want people to know I'm a molester."

"But you said that you haven't acted on your feelings." I shook my head. "So, nobody has been molested. You have chosen to behave in a loving way, and should be proud of yourself. That's often hard to do. Is there more?"

"Just that I..." I couldn't believe I said this to a priest. "...am... Physically attracted."

He smiled. "She's very beautiful, isn't she? You're a healthy young man. These feelings, they're not abnormal."

"But she's my sister!"

"I understand. Cory, feelings aren't right or wrong--they are what they are. A man has to acknowledge his feelings before he can deal with them. You just took the first step to reconciling the situation."

I thought about that and we drank our tea.

"But I can't change how I feel. I'm living a lie and it's driving me insane."

"Yes, Cory, you have been lying, that's true. And I can see that it's been a sacrifice. You've done it with the very noblest of intentions. You know what they say about good intentions?"

This wasn't at all the conversation I had imagined. The tea had cooled now, and I took a long drink. It warmed me inside. "Yes, I know... So, what do I do?" I pleaded.

"To some people I'd recommend prayer and reflection. You're a pragmatic young man, though, and not much of a prayer, I think. You need more practical advice than I can offer. I take it you haven't discussed this with your father?"

"No way!" I said too loud. "...um, no Father."

He just nodded, his eyes smiling.

"Really? He'll probably kill me, you know."

"At least you won't die with a secret on your soul." I knew he was teasing, but it was hard to feel amused. He rested his elbows on the table. "I knew your father in the Army. Did you know that?"

"Yeah, he's mentioned it."

"He was so young, not much older than you are now, fearless, ruthless and very, very angry."

Given our talk the previous night, I could understand why he might've felt that way.

"He was offered a chance at sniper school," Father John continued. "That's a really big deal in the Army--but I talked him into joining the MPs."

"Why?"

"Because I knew he had a good heart. When he got a chance to help other people, well, he became less angry."

"I'm glad you did that. I think it made his life better."

"I think so, too," the old priest said. "I talk with him often. He's been concerned about you for a while now."

"He can tell when I'm hiding something." Oh, shit! "Father, does he know how I feel?"

"I couldn't tell you. He has a lot of other worries right now." He sipped his tea.

Dad must not know exactly what's on my mind. He'd have confronted me.

"Did you know I'm friends with Judge Franks, too?" he asked.

"Also from the Army?"

He nodded. "Next time you talk to him, ask him about Israel. Promise me you'll do that, okay?"

"He's never mentioned the middle east."

"No, Allen and Israel. Just that, okay?"

"Okay. But you know my Dad... Do you really think I should tell him?"

"Do you have any better ideas?" I played with my mug. "What do you think, Cory?"

I shrugged and took another long drink.

"Anything else you need to get off chest?"

I considered telling him about my feelings about Mom, but decided I had enough on my plate for the moment. "Maybe next time," I said.

"You're welcome here. Maybe you could stop by again, just to let me know how things turn out, okay?"

"Okay."

We finished our tea in silence. "Would you like me to bless you before you go?"

"What? Like last rites? I probably need them."

"No, it's a normal part of Reconciliation."

"Oh. Then yes, please."

He leaned over and put his hand on my head, using his thumb to make the sign of the cross on my forehead. "May God bless and keep you, guide and comfort you. Go in peace."

That was simple. Reverend Adams would've gone on for at least ten minutes.

Father John showed me out. Standing on the porch he waved goodbye, then raised his hands. "Wow!" he exclaimed. "What a beautiful day--it's like the first day of creation!" I couldn't help but laugh with his infectious, childlike joy.

"Oh, and Cory?" he called as he turned to go inside. "Next time--remind me to tell you about your parent's wedding. And say hello to Franks for me."

"Wicked old man," I muttered. He had me curious and he knew it.

I'd desperately hoped that the confession would bring me some relief, but the volcano of emotion in my chest was not appeased.

# Chapter 45

That Saturday night I stayed up late again, waiting on the couch for when Dad got home. I'd gone to bed, but couldn't stay still, much less fall asleep. My skin felt like I was covered in black flies, biting and stinging.

Spaz knew, so it was only a matter of time before everyone knew. Jessie had already started looking at other guys. I had tried confession, but that didn't help at all. I couldn't handle this alone. I was over my head. I only had one resource left, and I wouldn't dare let him hear it from anyone but me. It was the only logical move, but it scared me shitless.

"What are you doing up? Are you okay?" he asked.

"Dad, I need to talk to you."

He sat down in his chair. "I'm always here for you, Son. How can I help?"

"I have a--girl problem."

"Yeah, those can be kinda tricky. He gave a knowing wink. "Cory, there are a lot of things that I'm ignorant about, but fortunately love isn't one of them. What can you tell me?" It was amazing how he could phrase a question so that it was a conversation, not an interrogation.

"I don't know where to start."

He leaned forward. "Is it somebody you just met?"

"No, I've known her a long time."

"Okay..." he said hesitantly.

"...and I really value our friendship. But I feel... More than friendship toward her, a lot more."

He nodded. "Does she know you feel that way?"

"I want to tell her, but..." I ran out of words.

"You don't know how she feels, and you're afraid it'll ruin your friendship."

"Kinda."

"Ah." He lifted his chin. "One of your sister's friends?"

"What? Oh, no, not..." I knew it was inevitable that I'd have to say it, but I wasn't ready yet. "It's complicated. Just by asking, no matter how she feels, it could--hurt other people."

He grimaced, as if he had a cramp. "I do believe I know exactly what you're talking about."

I doubted that very much.

"So, the truth is that you're not just a friend. You really, really care about her, right?"

"Yes, I do..."

"Son, do you love her, or are you in love with her?"

"That's hard. I guess I've always loved her, but now it's both."

"And you're sure it's not just your hormones talking?"

I sighed. "I wish it was that simple."

He grimaced again, but nodded as if in sympathy. "But you're pretending to be just... Friends--out of fear for the consequences?" I looked down. It didn't sound very good like that. "And by pretending, you're lying."

I shrugged. I didn't like how this was going.

His voice had an edge to it. "Haven't I taught you not to lie? And that's no small lie either, Son, it's the very worst kind. You're lying about love." He paused to let it sink in.

I was trapped. "So, I have to tell her?"

Softer now, he said, "You need to resolve this and move on."

There was a lump the size of a basketball in my throat. "Even if...?"

"Even if you're afraid?"

I shook my head. "I'm not afraid for me."

"I know," he sighed. "You're the kind of person who'd bear any burden, no matter how heavy, to protect someone that you love. That's noble. But the question is, this... Girl, would she want you to suffer that way?"

I closed my eyes, unable to meet his gaze. "I get it. It isn't all about me, huh?"

When I glanced up he was looking deep into my eyes, into me, and I saw pain in his face, as if he was the one suffering. Why would he...?

He knew. He'd known all along. Of course, he knew all along--he saw right through me. He'd watched me suffer for almost three years... What a bastard. A flash of rage washed over me, but instantly faded. He'd watched, but couldn't stop it and he couldn't help. No, not until I was ready to deal with it. Maybe it'd killed him as much as it killed me.

"You know, don't you?"

"Say it, Son. Go ahead and say it out loud."

"Dad, it's Jessie. I love Jessie with all my heart and I have for as long as can remember. I know it's wrong, and I'm so ashamed, but I can't live like this."

"Was that really so hard?" He reached out and held my shoulder and his tone changed. "Yesterday I choose to entrust you with my secrets, man to man, and that's no small matter. Thank you for choosing to trust me with yours."

Exhausted, I slumped onto the arm of the couch.

"So that stuff you said last night--was that true, or were you just goading me?"

"True, I'm afraid. I thought knowing my story would help you trust me. I wanted you to resolve this sooner rather than later. That's why I told you."

"And you don't hate me?"

"Of course not. Think of what I told you. Your feelings for your sister don't seem that alien to me. I'm just glad that we can talk about it now. Do you want to go back to the counselor? I think it might be good for you."

"No. Definitely not while this stuff with Amanda is in the news."

He frowned slightly, and then nodded.

"How long have you known?" I asked.

"I started to suspect it about a year ago, but I didn't want see it. I hoped--prayed--that it would somehow pass. Then I tried to give you opportunities to tell me, but I knew if I confronted you, you'd just deny it. I've been pretty sure for about six months. Is that about right?"

"No. Since we were thirteen."

He leaned back. "Really. Nothing... has happened between you, has it?"

"No, no way. I had to push her away so it wouldn't."

He nodded. "You two were so close... That must've been very difficult."

"It broke my heart."

"Sometimes it's really hard to do the right thing. That was a good decision."

The next question scared me. "Does Jessie...?"

"What? Know how you feel? She and I, well, she doesn't confide in me anymore. But it could be why she's so withdrawn, if she senses that tension in you."

"Maybe. Dad? Spaz figured it out. I don't want her to hear it from someone else."

"Hmm." He stroked his beard. "Yeah, that changes things a little. As much as I enjoy Robert, I doubt that he's a safe repository for secrets."

"This's going to be bad, isn't it?"

"I think Robert making your feelings public, especially right now, would open you up to a lot of negative attention, and that could affect her, too. You need to warn her."

"So, I do need to tell her."

"Yeah, Son, I guess so. Is there anything I can do that would help?"

I grinned. "You want to tell her for me?"

He didn't smile. "Cory, I wish that part was something I could do, but my involvement would just make matters worse. I'm glad we talked about it first, though, so I can be ready for the fallout. Just tell her the truth and get it over with. It might be hard between you for a while, but it can't be much worse than what you've been going through. You'll get past this and go back to being brother and sister. It'll be okay, you'll see. I'll talk to your friend and impress on him how important this confidence is."

He wrapped me up in his arms and I couldn't hold back.

"Thanks, Dad," I rasped.

# Chapter 46--Sun. Dec. 11

That was a long night. I lay awake obsessing over what I would say, what would happen. When Sunday morning finally came I had to drag myself out of bed. The only light outside was a streetlamp shining on a fresh inch of snow. Dawn came late this time of year, still over an hour away.

On Sundays we got up, cleaned up, dressed up, and showed up at Bethany Lutheran Church. I think we mostly went to church because Dad knew it'd been important to Mom, and going to church was also a way to show everyone that even without her we were okay. He made sure we had nice clothes that fit well.

Dad didn't act particularly religious. He quoted the Bible sometimes--he quoted a lot of stuff--but he didn't do it to make himself look superior to anyone. Dave's father did that--he'd basically tell you how pious he was. But Dad wasn't devout--he just lived as if he was.

"Mornin' Dad, g'mornin' Sis."

Dad was studying me intensely. I knew--so he knew, also--that I wouldn't sleep again until I talked to Jess. I'd have to do it while he was at work tonight. It would be a long day.

"Daddy? Kimmy invited me over to study this afternoon. Is that okay?"

"No."

Caught off guard, Jessie squeaked, "Why?"

"Her mom works late like I do, and won't be home to supervise. I also know that Kimmy smokes--I've seen her--and I suspect she drinks, too. I don't consider her a good influence."

Once that would've started a battle, but this morning Jessie just accepted his answer. There was no way she would prevail, and she knew it. I wondered if she'd go to Kimmy's anyway.

When we got to Bethany, Reverend Adams greeted us. He and Dad chatted for a few minutes until someone else came in. Usually I perused the newsletter until the service started, mostly out of boredom. But today it sat untouched in the pew beside me.

My thoughts were far from church fare. They rattled and ground in my head like ball bearings in a blender, drowning out whatever spiritual message I was supposed to be absorbing about Job. I never understood that one, anyway.

After church was brunch at the Honey Tree, the only time we ever ate out. The food wasn't as good as Dad's, but again, I think he liked to show us off.

It was interesting to think he used to be Catholic.

"Dad?" I asked, "Why did you and Mom decide to become Lutheran?"

"Same reasons Luther did."

I frowned. "You think the Church is corrupt?"

"Cory, this's a subject better suited to home, not a public place."

Later in the truck I tried again. "You pray before bed, right?"

"You know that I do," he said.

"So, you really think there's a God?"

"Cory, nobody can prove or disprove God, except in their own heart. I consider myself a Christian, but some might call me agnostic."

"You believe there's no God?"

He laughed. "No, no, Son. I'm not an atheist, just an agnostic. There's a big difference. Atheism holds that the unprovable does not exist, or at least is irrelevant. Folks with religion believe that the unprovable does exist. Personally, I think it takes more faith to be an atheist than a believer, because I see lots of evidence of God in the world."

"But you're not sure."

"I have deep doubts, but I also have some very strong suspicions. I guess you could say I have faith in spite of my doubts. I've learned a little bit of everything from Judaism to Zen, and found some truth in each, and the whole truth in none. Being agnostic just means I admit that I don't know. I'm agnostic out of humility--I'm just not smart enough to know the mind of God or to grasp the unknowable... And I strongly suspect that none of us are."

"Daddy, that's crazy," Jess said. Of course, there's a God. I think you're right that we can't always know what he's thinking, but I'm sure he's there."

"That's wonderful, Bug. Your Mom was sure, too. I sometimes envy people of great faith. It'd make life much more secure and simple. But remember, a little humble doubt is important in these things. Being certain you're right, that God is on your side? It justifies everything from persecution to suicide bombings. It's dangerous if one goes too extreme in any direction."

I decided I was agnostic. Dad was a good cop. He had good antennae, really good, but could distinguish the difference between his hunch and a fact.

After Dad dropped us off at home, I changed to sweats and a tee shirt. Walking past her room, I could hear Sis talking to Kimmy, saying she wasn't coming over. Then they were talking about another girl, and how much better she'd look if she dyed her hair red.

"It'd make her look artsy, I guess. That and, please, just a little lip-gloss at least? Yeah, uh-huh. Oh, and did you hear that Donna got sent home again because her shirt was way too short--no belly rule, you know? It's like she does it to get noticed, and then she's surprised when a teacher notices."

I puttered around my room, wasting time, nerves jangling. I went down to the workshop. I made myself lunch. I did my homework. I played guitar. I procrastinated.

Finally, it was getting late. I couldn't put this off any longer. Like a man to the gallows I trudged into the hall and paused at her doorframe. I thought of all those nights I'd stood in my doorway, wanting to say what I was about to.

The sun had set, and the only illumination came from the lamp on her nightstand. She lay on her quilt, her bare feet in the air behind her, filling out a worksheet from history and occasionally looking things up in the textbook. She had on shorts and one of Dad's old flannel shirts. It was baggy, faded, and worn thin, and in that soft light, she was totally adorable in it.

I still wasn't sure if this was a good idea, but I was out of other options. I knocked softly on the doorjamb. She turned around and sat up on the bed.

"Sissy? I... I need to talk with you."

"What's the matter, Cory? You look terrible." She frowned at me. I found that I couldn't speak. "What's wrong?"

"I need your help." I slumped into her chair.

She waited, concern all over her face.

I took a deep breath. Here goes nothing... "There's this girl."

Jessie made a face. "Who?"

"A girl I like... Who I like a lot."

Jessie rested on one hand, gripping the quilt. "Who you like a lot?"

"Yeah."

"Like a crush?" she asked.

"No, more serious than that."

She held up her free hand. "Wait. Cory, are you telling me you're, like, in love?" I could just nod. "Oh Cory, I don't think I can help you with that. Maybe you should wait and talk to Dad."

"I talked to Dad. He said... He said you'd have to try and help right now."

After a long pause and a deep sigh, she said, "Okay, I'll try."

"Thanks."

"What can you tell me?" I should've guessed that's what she'd say, but it floored me anyway. I'd have to explain it later. Right now, I just need to survive this conversation.

"I've always liked her, but I want to be more than friends."

She knitted her brows. "She doesn't even know? Geez, Cory, why don't you just tell her?"

"She'll think my feelings are... Inappropriate. It'll embarrass her and wreck everything."

"What kind of inappropriate? Is it an age thing? Is she, like, a teacher? Or a junior high kid?"

I shook my head. "Worse."

"Special ed? Lesbian?" She paused, horrified. "It's not Amanda, is it?"

I shook my head again.

"I give up--I don't get it."

"This is so hard..."

Her voice was soft and sad. "Cory, if that's how you feel, you have to tell her."

"I know." The room fell silent except for the blood rushing in my ears. "Jessie, I love you."

"I love you, too, Cory." Her voice strained. "But you and this girl..."

"Jessie, I mean the girl, it's you. I'm in love with you, and I always have been. Since the first day I saw you, I've loved you, Sis. I think about you all the time. I can't imagine ever loving another. I know you've moved on, that you like someone else..."

# Chapter 47

We sat there, frozen in time. I felt lightheaded, but that washed away on a wave of nausea. Her eyes met mine and turned to daggers. I knew this would end badly.

"You son of a bitch! You heartless, fucked up asshole! I'm going to kill you!"

True to her word, she launched herself from the bed, plowing her shoulder into my chest. As the air was forced from my lungs, the chair cracked, broke, and fell as we spilled onto the floor. She roared incoherently and pounced again. "What's wrong with you? How long were you...?" She was all over me, her fists tight and furious, pounding madly at whatever she could reach. I gasped for breath.

She screamed like a banshee and her nails clawed at my face. Splinters dug into my flesh.

Her knee found its target and I curled into a ball, gasping in pain. She howled and cried, dribbling and spitting. "How could you! How could you?" she shrieked, hoarsely now. After several attempts, I managed to grab her wrists, ending the physical part of the beating.

Her fury abating, she collapsed on my chest, massive sobs shaking her body as she panted for air. "Why? Just tell me why!" She wailed inconsolably, clutching my wet and slightly bloody shirt. "Why did–" She hiccupped. "...you tell me?"

I writhed in pain, tasting blood in my mouth. I nervously loosened my hold on her wrists.

"I don't understand," she groaned. "How could you...?"

Cautiously, I lightly put my hands on her heaving shoulders. Feeling no resistance, I held her lightly as her tears cascaded onto me.

"Sis, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry I hurt you. It's wrong, I know it's wrong, and I'll never say anything ever again. Just please, don't hate me--I couldn't bear it. I can't help how I feel."

Physically I ached all over, but at that moment, all I could feel was the pain in my heart.

"Just please don't hate me," I begged.

Weeks went by while I waited for her to say something, anything.

"Okay," she said, barely a breath.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay." And the most amazing thing--her arms slowly and gently wrapped around me. We lay like that for a short eternity. "I won't hate you. I still love you too, Cory."

It was like I fell off a cliff. My brain flailed, attempting to regain its bearings. I plunged through disbelief, vertigo, and elation. She reached out and pulled my face to hers. She rolled on her side, pressing her lips to mine. Whoa! It was something I'd felt a million times in my dreams, but the reality of it was unknowable.

It was bliss. Her soft, moist lips, the salty taste of her tears, and the sound of her breath as she kissed me passionately. It overwhelmed my ability to take it in. I was lost in her kiss.

# Chapter 48

Abruptly, she stopped and pulled away. "Oh my God, I've hurt you! You're bleeding!" She hopped to her feet. "Wait right there," she ordered, and rushed out of the room.

My groin ached right through my guts. I crawled to my knees and then, slowly, to my feet, and sat on the side of her bed, staring at the remains of the chair. I heard Jessie in the bathroom. She came back with the first aid kit, a hand towel, and a wet washcloth.

She didn't look much better than I felt. Her faded shirt was torn where jagged wood had scraped across her neck and chest.

She knelt in front of me, taking her time, and cleaned my face with the warm, damp cloth.

"Jessie, I..."

She put her finger to my lips. She stood and leaned forward. I thought she was going to hug me, but instead she held the bottom of my tee shirt, and pulled it over my head, torn and bloody in a couple spots. I wiggled my arms free.

Bending over me, she checked my chest and back. She cleaned my wounds and pulled splinters, dabbing gently on the tender spots. Satisfied, she said, "Hold still," opened a couple Band-Aids and placed them on my back.

I reached up and gently took the cloth from her. Standing, still with some discomfort, I wiped the tear stains from her skin. With the towel, I tenderly blotted her wet face. Hands shaking, I started to unbutton the old shirt.

"Is this okay?" I asked.

She nodded.

"You have to say it out loud."

"Then yes."

With my palms lightly against her skin, I slipped the fabric over her shoulders until it fell behind her. She offered no resistance.

I washed her neck and throat, and wiped off the scrapes and scratches. Then, tossing the cloth aside, I reached out and stroked her cheek. She smiled a shy smile, sliding her arms around my sides.

This was a whole new kind of heaven. My senses overloaded as she ran her warm, small hands down my back and pressed her dark skin against me. I closed my eyes and smelled the flesh of her neck, moving my hands up her sides. I could almost feel every soft, downy hair that covered her. My thumbs brushed the edges of her breasts, and I looked to see her reaction. Her eyes closed and she drew in a deep breath. I could feel her heart beating fast.

She whispered, "Oh my God."

My pulse was pounding, and it was quickly too intense to continue. I stepped back a couple inches.

Even in the dim light, I could see that her chest and neck were as flushed as mine. We were both breathing hard.

Cupping her head in my hand, I kissed her again. Now I could feel my swollen lower lip. She broke off and crawled onto the bed, pushing her homework to the floor. She reached for my hand.

I laid on my back, with her head on my shoulder and our arms around each other, like when we were kids on the beach. She melted into me like warm honey, blending our bodies into one.

"It's been eating me alive, Cory. I tried to tell you Tuesday night. I had to try. I was too scared that you'd just get mad and yell at me again. I love you so much... I just couldn't take that."

"That's okay. I wasn't angry. It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does." She moaned. "You shut me down, you rejected me. It really cut me deep."

"I thought you suspected."

"Oh. And that scared you, I get it. But Cory, you broke my heart and it never healed."

"It was the hardest thing I've ever done. I did it to protect you. I was afraid, afraid for you, of what could happen..."

"I know. But part of me hates you for that. It hurt so bad, Cory, a thousand times worse than being burned. And it hurts me that you've lied to me all this time."

"I'm sorry. I had to."

We lay silently together for a while.

"What changed today?" she asked.

"I couldn't do it anymore. It was killing me, ripping me up inside."

"Good. You made me miserable. You deserved to be miserable, too."

"Yeah, I guess so. Please forgive me, Jess."

"Okay, but don't ever lie to me again. Promise?"

I didn't answer. Maybe I someday could explain about the fire, and about Mom.

"Also," I said, "Spaz figured out how I feel. I'm afraid he'll screw up and tell someone."

"Oh."

Minutes or years went by. I felt each breath and heartbeat as they slowed and quieted. I lay there in uncomprehending bliss. I didn't care about anything that happened before this moment. I didn't know or care what might happen next, content just to be.

I looked at her angelic face, the face I loved so dearly, and knew that if I died then and there, my life would've been fulfilled because she loved me. Somehow, she had loved me all along. I pulled the old quilt over us and nestled back beside her.

She fell asleep in my arms, her exhalations barely audible. Finally, I gave in and closed my eyes. Still listening to her sleep, I joined her, dreaming of things that might be.

# Chapter 49

The sharp rattle of a bell woke me to a disoriented world. Where am I? I looked around.

I'm in Jessie's room. On Jessie' bed. In Jessie's arms. Oh, oh yeah. She slept quietly on my shoulder, with one arm between us, and the other on my stomach. Her bare chest rested against mine.

The phone rang again. I glanced at the clock. Nine. AM? PM? Yeah, PM. Shit, it's Dad, and it's late. Did I miss a call? Is he coming home early? I fumbled her phone off the night stand, almost dropping it in the process. "Hello?" I croaked, trying hard not to sound guilty. My lip was still swollen and tender.

"Hi Son," Dad said. "I'm sorry I didn't call earlier. It's been busy, and I'll be home a little late. Is everything okay there?"

"Mm-huh, yeah, Dad." My ribs and shoulder ached.

"Oh, sounds like you're all ready for bed. Did you talk to your sister?"

"I'll, uh, I'll tell you about it tomorrow."

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"Okay. Is she still up?"

I looked at her face. She blinked, groggily lifted her head, and looked around the room.

"No, she's in bed." I said honestly.

"Alright, go get some sleep. You can tell me all about it in the morning. I love you, Son." I couldn't believe it. I was lying in bed with my sister, half-naked, talking to my Dad--the man who can see through walls--and getting away with it.

"M'kay. Love you, too, Dad." I hung up.

"I thought we were dead," I said.

"Was that Dad?" she asked sleepily and stretched against me. "No way!" She propped herself on one elbow. Sis was awake now. She saw that I was looking at her body and smiled.

"Uh, sorry Sis, I have to get up." I broke our long embrace and headed to the bathroom, carefully avoiding debris.

I relieved myself and rinsed my hands. When I opened the door, I almost fell over Jess. My little sister was standing there in just a pair of shorts. Her cuts and scrapes looked angry. She had creases where my arm had pressed against her skin.

"My turn," she said, and squeezed past me.

In my room, I sat down on the bed and just stared into space. I heard the flush, and then listened to the water running. After a minute, Jessie came out, still wet from washing her face. She sat on my bed close to me, but not touching. I cleared my throat. A droplet of water fell from her chin and landed between her little breasts. It glinted, reflecting my bright desk lamp.

"That was..." I trailed off, at a loss for words.

"Heavenly," she sighed. "Oh, Cory! What are we going to do? That was the most beautiful thing that I ever..." she paused, "No, I couldn't even have imagined it. I want to sleep in your arms like that every night for the rest of my life."

"Yeah, me too." I smiled at her and took her hand.

"I'm really sorry I hurt you, Cory. I was just..."

"I know. It's fine, well worth the result."

"Can we start over?" she asked.

"Why, do you feel like beating the crap out of me again?"

She giggled. "No, I mean... All that stuff you said about loving me from the first time we saw each other? I still feel the same way."

"I tried so hard to hide it..."

"I guess it worked. You hid it well enough. Too well," she said. "I've never stopped loving you. Do you remember when we used to talk about being married?"

"I only think about it every day. I'd still do it in a heartbeat."

"Me too, Cory. It was obvious. I thought you knew, and just didn't... Just didn't... Care anymore."

"I'm sorry. I'm to blame. I'm the one who broke up with you, Sis."

Exasperated, she pulled away and yelled, "How could you not know? Why are boys so stupid and dense?" She slugged my arm in frustration--really hard--but then grabbed me and hugged me even tighter. "I keep doing that. It's just... It's hurt so bad for so long."

"But you're okay if I like you, you know, that way?"

Her face broke out into that lovely smile that turned my heart. "Yeah." She looked down and said in a small voice, "Yeah, way more than okay."

I rolled into the center of the bed and held out my arms. She settled in beside me again. "You know what? We should talk more often."

She pressed her head into my shoulder and whispered, "I'd like that."

"I have to ask... All that sunbathing and stuff, was that accidental or were you trying to torture me?"

"I tried and failed. You never picked up on it."

"You didn't fail. You drove me insane. I just thought it was wishful thinking on my part."

"What happened to us, Cory? How'd we get so... Disconnected?"

I sat quietly for a second. I guess it was safe to talk about now.

"The shower," I said.

She made a face. "I knew it. I'm sorry. I totally grossed you out. I don't blame you."

"Whoa. Wrong. It was... You looked at me, and you smiled."

"So, you did feel it, too?"

"Like electricity, like lightning."

"Yeah," she sighed.

"And then later you kissed me on the neck..."

She nodded. "I remember. I wasn't brave enough to say anything, but I thought you'd understand."

"I understood. When I saw you naked, I liked it too much. All of a sudden, being your friend and your brother, it wasn't enough. I didn't feel like you were... Safe anymore."

She brushed my cheek. "I didn't want to be safe. Not from you."

"I know." I nodded. "That's why I had to lie."

"How could you think I didn't still love you that way? I never changed."

"But you did" I said. "You acted so weird..."

"Weird? Like what?"

"Like telling me and Dad you hated us?" She covered her face. "Or throwing the toaster at my head? Or how about..."

"Oh. Um. Yeah, that's a girl thing. The chemicals, you know? It got better after I started the shots, though, didn't it?"

"It did, a lot better. I didn't make that connection." I gave her a squeeze. "None of that matters now."

She sat bolt upright and grabbed hard at my arm.

"Oh, God! Dad! What are we going to do? He'll kill us!"

"I think it'll be okay. I opened up to him about it last night..."

"You told him about the shower?!" Jess yelped.

"No, no way. I told him that I loved you."

"...and he let you live?" she asked.

"He already knew. He said he had for months."

She thought about that. "Dad's going to know everything, if he doesn't already."

"No, not about how you feel."

"It'll probably be just as obvious now. What are we going to do?"

I sighed. "We're going to talk to him."

She shook her head emphatically. "You can talk to him--I couldn't..."

I sat up and put my hand on her bare knee. "No, Sis, it has to be from both of us. He has to see that we both feel the same. You don't even have to say anything--I'll do the talking. He just needs to see your face and he'll know it's true."

"Okay I guess, but I'm scared."

"Me too, Jess. But it's better than... It's not like we can hide it from him."

She shook her head. "I won't be able to sleep."

"Me either. I'd have an ulcer by morning. No. When he gets home, we'll be waiting in the living room. That's what I did last night. He'll know there's something wrong that we're worried about, something we're not hiding."

She shuddered. "I guess you're right, but I'm not looking forward to it."

I took her hand. "I don't know how, or even if I'm strong enough to do this. But I need your help."

She retrieved her hand to rub her nose and to wipe the comer of her eye. "Cory?" She wouldn't look me in the eyes. "This might be the last chance we ever have to... To be together. Like this, I mean."

"I know. He said he'd be late, but not how long. We need to be ready when he gets here. Help me remember to get the picture."

I pulled my quilt over us, and we lay quietly against each other for a while. She raised her head to see my face. "What do you think he'll say?"

"I don't know. He might understand how we feel. He and Mom had the baby in their teens."

"He'll try to keep us apart," she said. "I'm sure he will."

"Yeah, he might have to separate us."

"Like how? Boarding school?" she asked.

"I guess, Jess. He might send one of us to Cranbrook or Leelanau. Or even Wayland."

"If it's you, maybe Interlochen."

"Or St. John's," I groaned.

"Military academy? Cory, that'd be awful."

"Those are all pretty expensive schools. I don't think that's an option. But yeah, he might be forced to separate us. It wouldn't be as bad as what he went through. At least we'd get to talk and see each other on breaks. It's hard to imagine being mostly apart for a couple years, but we could do it if we had to."

She squeezed me. "It would kill me."

"You'd survive. And do you know why? Because then we'd have the rest of our lives together."

"I don't want to spend even one minute away from you." She frowned. "What'd you mean by forced?"

"Jess, this could be really serious for Dad."

"How?"

"We're underage. Anything beyond kissing's a criminal act. Even just laying here like this," I lifted the blanket, "...is really pushing it. Besides, we'd still have that other problem. Even if we aren't blood relatives, it's still incest."

"Why?"

"You're legally my sister, Jess. That's why adoptions go through the courts--because that makes it legal. Do you remember how you felt when you heard about Amanda?"

"That's different. Nobody would..."

"Jump to conclusions?" I asked. "They'd assume it was bad. As bad as if I just decided to rape you one night and beat the crap out of you if you resisted."

"Cory! With what you know about me, my past? Why would you even say something like that?"

"Because that's what people would assume. When you hear hoof beats, you think horses, not zebras."

"But I'd tell them..."

"Yeah, right, Jess. Do you think it'd make a difference if Amanda told the cops she wanted it?"

"No." Jessie bit her lip. "What would happen?"

"For one thing, I'd wind up on the state's sex offender registry. Just as if I was a pedophile or serial rapist."

"That seems unfair. How serious would it have to be?"

"Guys get on the list just by peeing against a wall."

"No way."

"True. Indecent exposure."

"So, what does it mean if you're on the list?" she asked.

"I'd have to register where I lived, and it couldn't be within a mile of a school. All my neighbors could be told I was a sex offender. Anytime someone did a background check, like for a loan or for a job, they'd find out, so it might be harder to find work. Oh, that's the other thing. I'd always have to have a job, and register that with the state, too. It's a lot."

"How long do you stay on the list?"

"Twenty-five years."

"Seriously? You'd be forty! That's crazy. How do people get off the list?"

"They don't" I said. "But being on the registry isn't the bad part. Even though I'm only a teen, it's still considered statutory rape."

"You mean if they find out, they're going to send you to jail? As a child molester? I've heard what happens..."

"No, as a minor, anything from counseling to juvie. In a couple years, we're free at eighteen and have a lot more options. But Dad's the one who's ultimately responsible. He could--probably would--lose his job. It'd be a scandal. Depending on how it went down, he could go to prison."

"But he could say he didn't know..."

"They'll assume Dad knew, or should've known. It's his job to know. They may even think he's in on it. Besides, what are the odds that Dad would lie?"

"Zero percent. Oh, that'd be bad, Cory. How do you even know all this?"

"Let's say I've had a personal interest in the subject for some time now."

"Oh, my God. What are we going to do?"

"None of that's going to happen. We're not going to let it happen. We're going to protect Dad. That has to be our number one priority. I need to know anything you've ever said to anyone to make them think I'm more than a brother to you."

"Not much. It's not something I'd blab about. I've probably said that I don't think I'll ever find a boy as nice as you, but I think that's pretty mild."

"I agree. Anything that might be misconstrued, especially when you've talked to your friends about boys?"

She wracked her brain. "No, but they tease me because I don't like any boys."

"But they suspect you have a crush."

"Yeah," she said, "but how do you know that?"

"You and your friends are so loud... I could cast my head in concrete and still hear every word."

"Really? No."

"Jody wants to go on the pill, and her dog's too smart to be Janna's boyfriend. How do you think I'd look with a beard?"

"Oh my God--you do listen in!"

"Listen? On purpose?" I didn't like lying, even if the truth embarrassed me. "Okay, maybe sometimes, but I probably couldn't block it all out if I tried. I'm just glad I'm your crush."

"Does anybody know about you?"

"Dad. And Spaz figured it out a couple days ago... About me, I mean, not you. Mostly I've played the nerd and the protective big brother."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"If I get invited out or something, I just say that I need to do homework, or that I'd rather go home and do woodworking. They can think I'm immature if they want. Part of the reason that you don't get cat calls and stuff is my fault." She looked at me quizzically. "Billy Raymond said he wanted to ask you out, and asked me what his chances might be."

"Billy? Ha! Zippo chance."

"I told him to go ahead and ask, but if he got out of line or hurt your feelings that I'd break his legs and kill his dog."

"Cory! That's awful!" Then she pictured Billy getting that news, and added, "But pretty funny. And no, he never asked me out."

"Word got around."

"You really are overprotective."

"Guilty as charged. So, how do we hide this?"

"I could tell the girls that I found gay porn in your room."

I winced. "Back to that, huh? I hate to admit it, but that might work."

"I wasn't serious."

"I am. If that's the best we can come up with, that's what we'll do."

"But your life would become a living hell."

"I know, but that's okay. Up until today, my life hasn't been the greatest. I could survive it, especially for Dad and for us. I am, however, very, very open to other ideas."

"What if we just both start dating?" she asked.

"Hmm. The main thing I don't like about it is that it'd be dishonest. I don't want to play with anyone's emotions or lead them on. Besides, it'd kill me to think of you out with another guy."

"Why? Wouldn't you trust me?"

"No, Jessie, it's not that. It's just..."

She pointed her finger in my face. "You'd be super jealous."

"Yeah, yeah, I would."

"Cory, I don't like that."

"That I'd be jealous? Why?"

"Did you really tell Billy that you'd kill his dog?"

I chuckled at the scene. "Yup, I really did." I never thought of myself as intimidating, so I was proud of that moment. I had really felt like a man.

"You've been overprotective too long. You can't think like that."

"Like what?"

"Cory... I'm your sister, your best friend, and now your girlfriend." Boy did that sound good in my ears! "I know you better than anyone else on earth, right?"

"What are you trying to say?"

"The Cory I know and love would never, ever kill a dog, or even threaten to. Your gentleness and integrity are what I love about you. Don't you see that?"

"I was just kidding. I wouldn't actually do it."

"But really, you're proud of telling him that, aren't you?"

I felt like she was attacking me for doing what I should. Why couldn't she understand that I did it for her? Oh, I knew why. Because that's not something she'd ever want me to do for her. My shoulders slumped.

"You're right. I was proud of it. I'm sorry, Jess. I thought I did it for you, but I just did it for my own ego." I shook my head. "When will I figure it out that it's not all about me?"

She threw her arms around me. "I'm so proud of you, I can't believe it!"

Now I was totally confused. "What'd I do right?"

"You really don't know, do you?"

"Not a clue."

She let go and curled beside me again. "You get it, you understand. It's like when Mom asked Dad 'Did you remember your wallet?' To most guys that'd be nagging."

"Yeah, I guess. He did forget it a couple times. But what does that have to do with...?"

"But what would he always say?"

I had to think a minute. "I think he just said 'Yes, I do, thanks for reminding me.' Why?"

"He wasn't defensive. He didn't assume she was talking down to him. He didn't listen to the words. He listened with his heart for what she meant, which came down to the same thing. I love you."

"Okay, yeah. Yeah, I was defensive. I felt like you were attacking me just for protecting you, that you were being unfair." She waited while the gears turned in my head. "But I trust that you love me and wouldn't do that, so I guess... I rejected that idea, and it made me question my own motivation. Wow, that's pretty deep. I thought I just screwed up and admitted it."

"You did more than that. You listened to my heart."

I tried to backpedal. "It'd still hurt me to see you go out with another guy."

"Cory, you have to trust me. I'm not your property to keep under lock and key--I'm the girl who loves you more than anything else in the world."

"Ouch. Okay, I guess I still have some work to do. Thanks for helping me to see it."

"You just did it again! That's the Cory I love. So that's all we have? Date other people or have you go gay?"

"So far."

We fell silent and just held each other. She pulled me back down onto the quilt.

"Cory?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you always love me?"

"Until the day I die. If the preacher's right, I can love you for eternity."

"No, I mean do you swear? Like that night on the beach. I'm serious here, like Mom and Dad. No take-backs this time. I mean it."

"Oh." I thought of the weight of her words.

I was only fifteen, but I knew for a fact what adult love was. Yeah, I recognized the part that was lust--which was powerful--and I understood that it could be partially infatuation.

But those things paled in comparison to the real love that I knew. I saw it between Mom and Dad. I saw it in Dad's grief. I saw it in the unabashed care and devotion that Dad gave to us. I knew in my heart, in my soul, what love was, and I knew that's exactly what I felt for Jessie.

"Yes, Jessie, I promise. Just like Mom and Dad. I do."

"I promise, too. Just like Mom and Dad." She repeated solemnly, "I do."

She propped herself on one elbow and giggled, "You may kiss the bride."

# Chapter 50

I took the picture of us from the hallway and carefully set it on the coffee table, facing Dad's chair. I made sure that the newspaper was handy. We were both so nervous that we spent the next twenty minutes getting on and off the couch and running to the bathroom.

By the time Dad pulled into the driveway at midnight we were exhausted and near terrified. He had to notice that the living room light was on. He unlocked the back door, strolled through the kitchen, and leaned against the wall in front of us. He blinked, as if not sure we were really violating the school night curfew.

Dad turned around and sat on a dining chair to take off his shoes. He got a glass of water, put on his slippers, and sat down in his chair. He saw the photo, picked it up and studied it. A crease appeared on his forehead. He set it back down gently. He just sipped his drink and looked at us, waiting for us to explain ourselves.

I felt flushed and figured that my whole head was bright red. I wanted to curl into a little ball. Jessie already had and was all but hiding behind a pillow in her lap. Here goes...

"Dad," I said, "there's something going on, and we need to talk to you."

Dad took a long drink and nodded. "Okay, kids. What's keeping you up?" His eyes looked tired and wary. "Does this have to do with...?"

I'd practiced the next line a hundred times, wondering if I had the guts to say it to his face. Now that it was time to do it, it didn't seem too easy. "Last night I told you how I really felt about Jessie. It turns out that she feels the same way. We're... Attracted to each other."

"Hmmm." He leaned forward studying us. "Attracted how?"

"We're in love with each other." I glanced down at the picture, which expressed so well words I couldn't reach. "But maybe you knew that."

Dad's jaw muscles tightened. He glanced down at the photo again, rotating his face from side to side almost imperceptibly. Maybe he really didn't know. "And how long have you felt this way?"

"Years."

"As long as we've known each other," Jessie chimed in.

"Ah, I see. So, do you, uh, kiss and stuff?"

I was kind of ready for this question. "Yes, we hugged and kissed today, and there's a very strong--physical attraction. That's why I--we--needed to talk to you, Dad."

"You're pretty quiet behind that pillow, Bug. Is this true?"

Sis nodded silently, trying to disappear.

"You hugged and kissed Cory like a boyfriend?"

She nodded again.

"But that's all that happened, and you didn't do anything else?"

"Not much," I replied, "but it was enough that I really, really understand what you said about hormones being... Strong and impatient."

"Geez, kids! Are you joking?" he growled.

"Do we look like this is funny?" I snapped.

"Bug!" he exploded, "Did he touch you?"

I was on the edge of the couch. "Don't you yell at her!"

"Shit. Shit! How did this happen?" His eyebrows pressed low over his glare. His hands clenched into fists. "Answer me, Jessica," he seethed. "Did he put you up to this?"

"He can't make me do anything, Daddy! Didn't you ever wonder why I don't have a boyfriend? Do you even know me?"

I held out my hand, signaling her to back off, but Dad jumped to his feet, startling both of us, and stalked out the back door in his slippers. The door slammed behind him. He cursed like we'd never heard.

After a few minutes he quieted down and came back in.

"Sorry kids," he said. "That wasn't my best moment." He slumped into his recliner, his slippers dripping slush onto the carpet.

"Okay guys," he said at last. "First, thank you for telling me. I know it's not easy to talk about, especially about the physical part, and I'm proud that you did. I appreciate that you didn't put it off.

"It'd be easier if you just wanted to kill each other like normal siblings." He glanced out the window toward Harrad's house. "Maybe Mom knew how you felt about each other ever since you met, but I couldn't grasp it."

He looked away.

"I still can't. I can't accept it. I won't."

I knew I was on shaky ground, but I had to say it. "Dad? You and Mom--your families couldn't accept it. But it didn't change how you felt..."

"You want to throw that in my face? Huh? How dare you!" His trembling finger jabbed the air between us. "I'll throw you ass out in the street, you little punk! I'll... I'll..."

"...forbid us to love each other?" I suggested softly.

"Goddammit!" he yelled, jumping to his feet again, this time knocking the lounger over backwards. I was on my feet, too. Frightened. I backed up to protect Jessie, who bolted for her room.

Dad's chest heaved, spittle hung in his beard and his arms shook in rage.

"Keep your filthy hands off my daughter."

I shook my head. "She doesn't belong to you, Dad!"

"She sure as hell doesn't belong to you, ya little perv!"

"Look who's talking! At least I haven't knocked her up."

His finger jabbed the air again. "Don't you ever talk about your mother that way!"

"That's what this is all about, isn't it? But your parents couldn't stop you any more than you can keep us apart."

"The hell I can't."

We leaned in toward one another, our faces hot and red.

"What are you going to do?" I demanded. "Send one of us away so we all can be miserable like you were? You're going to destroy the family in order to save it?"

"Shut up!"

"No, I've shut up too much. Now you can listen. I'm not you, and I'm not going to make the same mistakes you made. You taught us better. You have to let us make our own mistakes."

"Not this one, I don't!"

"What are you going to do? Call the cops?"

He looked confused.

"Dad, please," I tried to reason. "It's not our fault. Getting mad at us doesn't fix anything--we need your help."

Still breathing hard, he set the chair upright. He walked to the kitchen sink and splashed water on his face, drying it with a dishtowel. He threw the towel across the kitchen and put his palms on the table, as if he might leap right over at me. We stood facing each other, man to man. Now I was a bull male, too. Outmatched, perhaps, but determined. I held my ground and looked him square in the eyeballs.

"Son, you can't have a relationship--you're her brother."

"But we do, Dad, it's a fact. You knew how I felt about her."

"I didn't expect your sister to be insane, too."

"We just didn't know it was mutual."

"So, what? You two have been smoldering for years, and now I have another house on fire?" His eyes blazed. "I won't permit it."

"You can't change how we feel."

He glared. "Do you want to bet?"

"How well did that work for your parents?" That pissed him off even more.

"I shouldn't have told you that. Besides, it's just infatuation."

"It is not. Years, Dad."

"You have no idea what mature love is at your age."

"And you did?" This was going nowhere.

He grimaced. "You'll get over it," he growled.

"You didn't, and we haven't either."

"You're just caught up in the moment."

"No, we're excited because we're reunited, like when you found Mom after the Army."

"But, but..." He seemed lost for a moment. "But you're siblings--this is wrong."

"Cousins are wrong, too, but that didn't change how you felt." He winced at that one.

"Son, you don't need to make the same mistakes your mom and I did."

"Which mistake was that? Falling in love?"

"Not being careful." He edged around the table, starting to turn red again. "You're not ready for sex."

"Who said anything about sex? This isn't about sex--it's about love."

"I just don't want you to endure what we had to."

"I appreciate that, I do. Your problem was a lack of support from your family. We're asking you to support us like your family couldn't."

I could see that one landed hard. He shut his eyes tight for a moment.

"What do you expect of me? To dance a fucking jig of delight over this?"

"We don't expect anything, but we're hoping that you'll accept the facts and help us deal with them."

"What kind of father would I be to tolerate this kind of thing?"

He wasn't talking to me, but I answered anyway. "The kind that looks out for us. The kind that keeps us safe."

His eyes focused on me again, puzzled. "Safe from what?"

"Don't you see?" I pleaded. "All we have to do is look at each other and our friends will know. Then all the kids'll know, then all their parents, and then Child Protective Services. And the media, and the police. They'll call us perverts. I grabbed the morning paper from the edge of the sofa and stabbed my finger on the front page where Danny Yirzbik was being led from the courtroom in handcuffs. "Dad! They'll call it incest."

My words hung in the quiet room. I had been shouting. Shouting at Dad. I lowered my voice intentionally. "No one will accept it, Dad. At the very least, they'd think you were a bad father, that you weren't doing a good job at bringing us up. It could get very serious, understand? I've studied this for three years. We know that there'd be consequences if our feelings went public. We're not too worried about us, but we have some idea how it could affect you, your job, your reputation. We know that you can be held liable for whatever we do. Criminally liable."

He looked at me, stunned as the gravity of it all sunk in. "Shit! How did this happen?"

"It doesn't matter. Right now, we have a crisis."

Dad sat back down in the recliner as Jessie timidly walked back in and knelt by him.

"We have to protect you, Daddy. That's the most important thing."

"I'd like to know how you think you can protect me."

"We're still working on that," I said, sitting on the couch. The best idea so far is to spread the rumor I'm gay. That might misdirect any casual inquires."

He smirked. "That's the best you have? Sounds rough."

"It would be, but the last couple years have been worse. I didn't say it was my favorite plan, just the best so far. But how else can we convince our friends there's no chemistry? One more thing, Dad. This is about love, but there's still a, um, a physical problem."

He cocked his head, not comprehending.

"Our, uh, hormones?"

He lifted his chin. "Go on..."

This was very uncomfortable. "Anything we do--beyond kissing--is enough to put me on the sex offender list. It puts you in danger..."

"Have you considered abstinence?" he growled.

"Of course," I weighed my next words carefully, "but that's not a reliable solution. We're only human. And Dad, I don't think we can honestly promise nothing will happen." His eyebrows went up again. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, but it's just not realistic, and you know it." I couldn't believe that I was speaking to him this way.

Neither could he, and I could see he didn't like it.

Jessie saw it too and tried to defuse the situation. "Daddy, I think Cory's right, but we love you and respect you. We've come to you for help. We don't want to defy you and we'll try to do whatever you think is best."

It wasn't working. The idea of us having a physical relationship was just too much. Veins stood out on his temples.

"Daddy, listen to our hearts," Jessie pleaded. "Mom knew. She tried to tell you. What would she say now?"

Like a balloon with a leak, he visibly deflated into his chair. Jess and I kept looking at each other as the seconds dragged into minutes. I wondered if maybe we should just leave him alone now, or if that might come off as defiant, too. At last he spoke.

"There are other issues, and this complicates things immensely." That gave me some hope--at least he seemed resigned to the facts.

"Dad, suppose for a minute that this is true love, that Mom was right and that this is our destiny and will last forever. I'm not saying that's what is going on... But if it was, what would you do?"

"Well, to start with I wouldn't have either of you living with your boyfriend or girlfriend under my roof."

"Yeah, that's complicated. But what if somehow... Wait... Dad, I need to talk to Daniel."

"What does he have to do with this?"

"I just have to ask him about something."

I sprinted to use Jessie's phone.

# Chapter 51

"Hello?"

"Hi Grace, it's Cory."

"Cory, Hon, so nice to hear you. It's late, are you okay?"

"To be honest, Ma' am, I'm in a bit of a hurry, and was hoping I might speak to Daniel."

"He's just comin' in. Paw, kick off yer boots n' grab the phone!"

In the background, I could hear him grumble, "Keep yer blouse on, lady. Who is it? Oh, well, why didn't ya just say so?" I heard him pick up the receiver. "Yeah?"

"Daniel, I need your help."

"Hey, Cory, nice to talk to ya, too," he said a little sarcastically. Then kinder, "Yeh don't sound so good."

"I'm in the shit, Daniel."

"Slow down an' take a breath, boy. What's gotcha all riled up now?"

"I couldn't take it anymore and I told Jessie."

"Goddammit, kid, whatcha hafta goin' do that for?"

"Wait, listen... She feels the same way as me."

"And that's a news flash to you?"

"Actually, yes, it was. It was to Dad, too."

"What'd ya do?" he groaned. "Go and blab to him, too?"

"Yeah, I guess. Together."

"Well... I figgered he knew about you, but... So, he's pretty stewed, ain't he?"

"Yeah, he's..."

"Cory!" thundered the deep baritone, "What are you doing?"

"I'm talking to Daniel--just a sec, Dad. Daniel? Tell me about Israel versus Allen."

"What are you talkin' about?"

"Just answer the question--I don't have time."

"Yeah. It was here in Colorado. Supreme Court case back in seventy-eight..."

"Adopted siblings?"

"Yeah..."

My heart was beating fast. "They won, didn't they?"

"Who told you about this?"

"It doesn't matter. There's a precedent, right?"

"Well, yeah, but hold on there..."

"What's the minimum marriage age there?"

"Are you nuts, boy?"

"Just tell me."

"Eighteen, same as most places, sixteen with parental consent, but you ain't gonna get no..."

"Can you get me a hearing?"

"Now just wait a minnit. You ain't draggin' me inta this. You're gonna have to work it out with yer dad."

"That's what I'm trying to do! Look, Daniel forget that..."

"Aw, kid, why you gotta do this now? Why not wait for a couple years? I know it seems a long time at yer age..."

"It's not that, Daniel. A case of incest is on the front page here. We think our friends will know, and suspect more, just like you did. At least if we got married it'd be legal."

"I don't think that would fix anythin'. But Cory, I've gotta know... Is there any chance that Jessica is pregnant?"

I frowned. "Short of divine intervention? No."

"Does this have anything to do with money?"

"What? No! Aren't you listening?"

"You haven't been promised anything of value--any money or property?" he asked.

"Um, gee, we aren't registered anywhere if that's what you mean. That'd be a bit premature."

"Cory!"

"I'll be right there, Dad."

He appeared at the door and held out his hand. "Give me that! Go to your room and stay there." He turned to Jessie behind him. "You too, Juliet."

Though I promised myself not to be intimidated, I rationalized that Daniel might be a better foil for Dad. Jess and I sat on my bed and heard everything anyway.

"Judge? I suppose he's been... Yes, exactly! Okay, okay, I know. Okay... I'm breathing, dammit." I heard him pacing in the next room.

"Do you know that little shit...? Yeah right to my face! Completely! I had no idea that she'd... Right! What do you mean? And you suspected? Well I didn't.

"No! I don't understand, Judge! What? What's that got to do with...? Oh! So, you want to shove that in my face, too? No, that was completely diff– We were older and more mat– Well, sure, but... but..."

He stopped yelling and listened for a few minutes.

I turned to Jessie and whispered, "I need to know, would you really marry me?"

"We can't."

"But if we could..."

She nodded. "Yes, of course."

"You're sure? For real now."

"Cory, yes, but..."

"Okay, okay, Judge, you have a point. Yeah, but look what happened to us... Our families... No, they didn't understand, and now I see why.

"What?! Well she'd better not be, or I'll kill him... Huh? Just today, why? Oh, yeah, I guess not. Are you trying to give me a heart attack? No! Of course not! That'd void the terms..."

He exhaled loudly, and we could hear the bed squeak as he sat down. Her chair wasn't usable.

"Yeah, I know they're good kids and... Yeah, the best I could. You're right. This is different. Yes, he is. No, no, I didn't, he came to me... I taught him that... No, I couldn't. My old man was... Shit, Judge, and now I've gone and acted like... Okay, yeah, I get it. What do you mean?"

I could hear the wooden headboard groan as he leaned his weight on it. There was a long silence. "So, what am I supposed to do now? What do you mean? Okay, I'm listening... No, not much time now. No, no word... Her? No, way, especially not with this mess--you either for that matter. Well, yeah, when they had to, but... That won't work anymore, this screws up everything."

Jessie and I looked at each other.

"You're missing the point, Judge. I have a situation here. I can't be worried about all that, not when... Oh, I do? Why? I see. Okay, yeah, well... Okay. Okay, I'll call you back. Thanks, Judge."

We heard him hang up and walk slowly to the kitchen. We heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor.

"Cory, get in here," he called.

I dragged Jessie with me and we sat down at the table.

"Dad, I'm really sorry..."

He waved me off. "You kids did exactly what I've asked of you. You came to me as soon as you knew there was a problem you couldn't handle."

"We trust you, Daddy."

"Thanks, Bug. That's what the Judge said I had to do, trust you guys, too. He thinks you can help me figure out what to do with you."

"Um... Maybe," I ventured. "But I don't think you're going to like it."

"Give it a shot."

I inhaled. "You let Jessie and me get married."

"What?! You know that's not going to happen. Seriously, do you have a real suggestion?"

"I'm serious, Dad. Adopted siblings can get married in Colorado."

"You're joking."

"No, really! Daniel told me so."

"He did, did he? Remind me to thank him. You're way too young to even be thinking about that stuff. And God bless your crazy mother, but that'll happen over my dead body."

"Wait, Dad, listen... With your permission, we could do it at sixteen. We can still be the same as we are, but we wouldn't have to worry if people suspected stuff that wasn't even going on." I felt like I was tripping over my words.

"Even if you could, and even if I allowed it--you said it yourself--nobody will accept it." His brow furrowed again. "It's not going to happen. Just drop it, Son."

"I will not drop it, any more than you would've with your Dad." His eyes flickered. I decided to try a different track.

"Dad, remember what I said about the other kids knowing? Maybe not this week, maybe not even next week, but, geez! It'll be so obvious! This isn't Detroit. Everybody knows everybody's business here. You tell us how we're supposed to keep our feelings a secret, Dad, and we'll do it."

"So, Cory, let me get this straight. You and your sister think you're in love with each other, and your solution is that I quit my job, we sell the house, we move to Colorado and I let you marry your sister at age sixteen? Do I have that right?"

I felt kind of stupid hearing it that way, but I admitted, "I guess, yeah. What's your plan?"

"I don't know, but it sure as hell isn't that."

"Dad?" He looked me in the eyes. "You know we're going to do it anyway. Two weeks or two years, either way it's going to happen."

"What are you talking about?"

"As soon as we're eighteen we're going to do this. We've already decided."

His forehead gathered like a thundercloud, but I pressed on.

"So, it's not a question of if, just when." I could hear Jessie breathing harder beside me. "Now would be better, because there's no way we can hide this for another two years." I didn't want to, but I held his glare as bravely as I could. "Now is not convenient. Now is not reasonable. But you know as well as anyone that love isn't always reasonable or convenient."

His glare wore me down and I had to look away. I was exhausted and wanted to quit while I still held what I sensed was the upper hand.

"Look, Dad, it's late, we're all tired, and we just dumped all this on you. Can we talk more tomorrow?"

At last he shook his head and sighed. "Kids, I don't know what to do with you. Yeah, we'll have to figure it out tomorrow."

He looked at us critically.

"I can tell you this much--you're not to go to school in the morning. I don't know how I didn't see it in you, Jessie. Probably just didn't want to."

He stood up and held out his arms.

"I'm tired and I'm going to get some rest now. I think I'm going to need it. I love you two," he said, wrapping us in a family hug. "Now go to bed and get some sleep. You might need it, too."

"Okay, g'night, Dad."

"We love you Daddy."

He closed his door softly behind him.

In the hallway she whispered, "That was amazing, Cory. I've never seen you like that."

"Sorry it took so long."

"Are you serious about Colorado? Are we really going to do that?"

"Sooner or later, Jess, as long as you still want to." Her kiss was all the answer needed.

I followed Jessie to her doorway. I held out my arms as Dad had done. She stepped toward me and wrapped her arms around my neck. Pressing herself against me, she put her lips on mine. I hugged her lightly and returned her kiss.

She held my hand and led me across the debris to her bed, where we lay down and held each other for about twenty minutes.

"Look, Sis, I'm tired. This's really nice but I need to get some rest."

"Oh, well, okay. I thought you might stay with me tonight?" That sounded tempting.

"Um, I don't know, Jess. Dad--let's warn him, rather than have him just wake up and see us like that. I don't want to give him a real heart attack."

"Oh, okay. If you're sure... But Cory, I think it'd be okay. Do you really think he'd mind?"

"Yeah, he'd mind a lot. Especially if we're all sweaty and naked and the lamps are knocked over."

"Oh! Uh, yeah, if you're thinking, yeah, if that's a concern, I mean, not yet. Maybe you're right."

"Look, it's going to be hard enough for either of us to function tomorrow."

"I know. You're right because I could easily... I just don't want you to go. This sucks." She sat up beside me and leaned on my arm.

I put my arm around her slender shoulder and kissed her head. "We can talk to Dad in the morning about it."

"Do you think?"

"Yeah, but I should go while my resolve holds up."

"Okay. G'night, Cory. I love you."

"I love you, too, Jess," I whispered, just like I used to every night, and slipped into the hallway.

# Chapter 52--Mon. Dec. 12

The morning sun poured in through my window. Dogs barked. Cars drove by. My sister breathed under the blanket with me, curved into me like a spoon, her head across the inside of my right elbow. My fingers and the flesh around the doorknob scar tingled painfully as the nerves woke up.

Groggily, I turned to see my alarm clock. Something blocked the display, and I couldn't read the numbers. Trying not to disturb her, I reached to clear the view. A piece of paper was neatly placed in the way, and I picked it up, confused.

Holding it in front of me, the sun lit it up from behind. Jessie stirred beside me. She saw the sunlight and turned over, facing me and looking disoriented. I read the note to her.

"Good morning, kids. I told the attendance office I'm keeping you home sick, probably for the rest of the week. I told them the truth, that you're both suffering from a fever."

"Cute," Jessie croaked, her voice not quite awake.

"I'll be home after lunch. Love, Dad."

She pushed off the blanket and sat bathed in a ray of sunshine like some angel or goddess. A loose white tee shirt hung like a gown, her form a shadow inside it. Lit from behind, her hair gleamed--even the delicate, nearly invisible down on her arms.

"Good morning, darlin'," she purred, and kissed me gently.

"Good morning, beautiful. When'd you come in?"

"About one-thirty. I waited as long as I could."

"Was this note here then?"

She shook her head. "I couldn't sleep. Dad was up in the night—talking, with Daniel, I think."

"Did you hear any of it?"

"I tried." She brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "I think they talked about a lawyer at one point, and Dad seemed really upset."

"We've put him in a tough situation," I said. "I feel bad about that."

She bent down to kiss me, and we cuddled for a few minutes. This really was heaven, talking and lying in each other's arms. I could have died right there a happy man. In that moment I didn't need anything in the world that I didn't have. Now I understood what Dad meant when he said love was the only true measure of wealth.

"I'd like to linger, but I need to freshen up a little." She got off the bed and disappeared around the comer.

I was grateful to Dad for letting us know we were alone, but irritated that he'd walked right in. No, not annoyed, just embarrassed that he'd seen us like that. I felt we'd been irresponsible.

"We're only human," I rationalized.

Jess left the bathroom door wide open. She called, "Are you coming?" I heard the shower go on.

The running water woke my bladder. As I used the toilet, she peeked out from behind the shower curtain, watching me.

"How can you hold so much pee?"

"Boys have to. Otherwise how could we write our names in the snow?"

"Have you ever done that? Really?"

"Yeah, I was out in the woods alone and had to go really bad."

"I'll bet that felt weird."

"Not really, just a little cold. The weird part was that it steamed." I finished and flushed, forgetting to warn her.

She jumped as the water turned hot. "Cory!"

"Sorry, Sis." I checked my lip in the mirror. It didn't look nearly as bad as it felt, but the rest of my face seemed to get uglier every day.

She adjusted the knob. "Are you coming in or not?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Jess." I pulled the Band-Aids from my back, revealing a lot of dried blood, but only a small cut.

"I think it's a great idea."

It was a hard point to argue. I quickly undressed and stepped in behind her. She turned and faced me.

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I can't believe this's really happening."

As if to prove it true, she took me in her arms and kissed me, pressing our wet bodies together and running her hands down my back.

"Okay, you're a guy, and I can trust you to be honest. Don't you think my boobs are too small?"

"What? No, of course not. They're wonderful, they're perfect."

"But don't I need bigger ones to be a babe?"

"You are a babe."

She smiled at that. With a sassy pat on my butt cheek, she leaned around and picked up her shampoo. "Do my hair?"

She faced the faucet, dipped her head forward into the flow, and then leaned back with her eyes closed. But I set the bottle down, reached under her arms, and held her close. I was excited. She leaned back, as if melting into me. Every nerve in my body was electrified and that wild urgency ran through me like a flood. My breath catching in my throat, I squeezed her tighter.

Suddenly she jerked away.

"I'm sorry--was that too rough?"

"Hardly, no." Her voice trembled. "It was delicious. But that's the problem. Cory, I want...that, I want it all, just as bad as you do, maybe more. But you're right. We just can't do this right now. Dad's coming home, the hot water's all going to be gone... You're right--this's a bad idea."

I started to object. She was being unreasonable--we had plenty of time. "Sis, I'm really sorry." I couldn't make sense of the confusion in my head, so I just admitted it. "Jessie, my brain's so messed up. What do you want me to do? I feel like I can't tell what's right anymore."

"Me, too! I feel like I'm in way over my head. I don't know what the rules are now or even if there are any. All I want to do is touch you and feel you touch me. That and more. I want, I need to have you with me every second, and to look into your eyes. I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to function anymore." She was almost yelling.

"Me either." We stood there in the tub with the water splashing around us, afraid to touch and looking desperately at each other. "Uh, okay, the problem is... The problem is that if we get undressed, I can't think straight."

"Okay, then what do we do?"

"How about this?" I said, "Let's just try to get through the next fifteen minutes, just that much, without losing our minds completely. I'm going to step out and let you finish your shower. I'll do mine and we'll meet in the kitchen, fully dressed."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No way. It'll be fine, Sis. We'll figure this out. I just can't... My judgment's too hard to manage with such a hot babe, all wet and naked within reach." She had to smile at that. I kissed her on the cheek and stepped out. I went to my room to dry off--I didn't trust myself within an arm's length of her right then.

When she finished, I took my turn. Refreshingly cold. I deliberately put on a tee shirt under a button shirt, jeans, and a belt, all to reduce exposed skin and increase the difficulty of removal. I knew it wasn't rational. I probably would've worn full chainmail if I had it.

I walked into the kitchen and just started laughing. Jessie sat at the table in her baggy jeans, three layers of tops, and lace-up boots.

"What's so funny?" she asked a little defensively.

I sat down across from her. "We both decided to dress for no sex."

She didn't think it was as funny as I did, and just looked gloomy.

"I've always heard 'Be careful what you wish for.' Now I understand it. More than anything in the world, I wanted you to love me back. Now you do, and I'm more miserable than ever. But I can't un-know it."

"It's really frustrating, I agree, but I wouldn't un-know it if I could."

"Why?" she asked. "Do you like being tormented?"

"No, but I'm pretty used to it."

"So, what are we supposed to do?"

"Nothing for now," I said. "Dad will be home in a couple hours, and I'll bet he has some ideas. Do you want to lie down again?"

"No, I'm too restless now. I need to do something. I can barely sit still."

"Me either," I said. "I've been up for half an hour, but I already have cabin fever."

She looked around. "I could really break something... It sounds stupid but at least it's physical. Oh, wait, I already did--I'll go downstairs and fix the chair."

"Good idea. I'll come with you. I have a new project."

"Oh, did you finish that boat drawing? Let me see."

I brought the plan from my desk and unfolded it on the dining room table. "Nice, a gaff-rigged schooner, right?"

"Yeah, a little like a Grand Banks fisherman, with more rake."

Instead of heading to her room to get the broken chair, she embraced and kissed me, long and deep.

"Wow," she sighed.

"Yeah, wow. I could get really used to that!" I gave her a squeeze and headed downstairs.

# Chapter 53

With the roar of the band saw, we didn't hear Dad come in.

Jessie set the last clamp on the chair leg and put away the glue. She double-checked the joints, blew me a kiss, and headed up the steps. A few minutes later I heard her call, "Hey Cory! Come get some lunch." I shut things down and went upstairs. Dad was just putting out plates of hash and eggs, and I realized that I hadn't eaten yet today.

I prayed that he wouldn't mention seeing us together in bed, but when I saw Jessie, it was all I could think about. She sat at the table, peppering her eggs. I wanted to take her in my arms right then there. Maybe I should address it head on.

"Momin' Dad, hey Sis," I said, taking my seat.

Dad looked at me from the stove like he thought I was hilarious.

"What?" I asked.

"Hey, Sis? Huh." He raised an eyebrow. "Is that all you have for your new girlfriend?"

Aw, shit, I thought. He's probably going to bust my chops for the rest of my life. I wanted to crawl into a comer and die there. But the tone in his voice wasn't sarcastic. Maybe he wasn't making fun. Maybe he knew what I felt. Of course, he knew. Is that why the blinds are down, or am I grasping at straws? Okay, I thought, let's see how he takes this.

My heart in my throat, I got off my chair and walked around to Jessie. She looked at me uncomprehendingly and swallowed her first bite. I leaned over and embraced her, kissing her full on the lips. They were sweet and tasted like fresh pepper. Her fork hit the plate and then the floor.

She glanced at Dad. Seeing that she wasn't in mortal danger, she relaxed a bit and kissed me back. I straightened up, gave her a little kiss on the forehead, and said, "Good morning, Sweetheart."

I picked up her fork, put it in the sink, and got a clean one for her from the drawer. I ran my hand across her hair on the way back to my chair.

She was red as a fire engine. I probably was too. I ate a bite, realizing that I was using a spoon by mistake. Only then did I sneak a peek at Dad. He'd turned his back to fill his plate. I quickly traded the spoon for my fork, hoping he hadn't noticed. Jess stared at me as if my hair had turned purple.

Dad sat down, and our eyes met. He wasn't grinning any more.

"What did you think of that, Bug?" He asked.

"Daddy!" she groaned. The table lapsed silent for several minutes as we ate our lunch.

Finally, as if the question had just been asked, Jessie quietly said, "It was..." She looked up shyly and her face broke into a beautiful smile "...really nice."

Dad nodded, still chewing.

When we finished, Jess and I cleaned up the kitchen. Dad made some phone calls in the next room. Jess and I were alone for several minutes. Seizing the moment, we kissed and embraced.

"Thank you, Cory. That was so sweet what you did," she whispered in my ear. "And brave. How'd you know that Dad wouldn't kill you?"

"I didn't," I confessed. "But it wouldn't have been a bad way to go."

Dad came back in and gestured to the dining table. "Have a seat, kids. We need a family meeting.

"Dad, I'm sorry--we're sorry--that you had to find us like that this morning. I'd planned to talk to you about, you know, how you felt about sleeping arrangements and stuff. I think we were disrespectful of you, and I apologize."

"Thanks for saying so, Son. For all our sakes, I'm glad you had your clothes on."

Yeah, I thought, that would have been sub-optimal.

"I can't believe you kissed her like that, right in front of me." He shook his head. "You have balls of solid brass, Son. Men have died for less, you know. Was it as easy as it looked, or were you nervous?"

"I was scared, really scared, but I had to. I don't know how to explain it. But I couldn't just sit there. It'd have been, I don't know, dishonest somehow."

He shook his head again. "Wow. That's just amazing."

"Dad?" I asked, "How are you okay with this?"

"I'm sorry? Okay with what?"

"With me and Jessie. Any other parent would've totally freaked out, but you're being so... Understanding."

"I didn't say I'm okay with it. I'm not. But at the moment the universe doesn't seem to care how I feel about things. I guess part of it's that I can--I'm willing to--remember so vividly what it was like to be a teen in love. Your senses and feelings are so intense, your worries so overwhelming, your happiness so boundless. And your pain so deep.

"At your age, romance can be a fickle thing, kids. Intensely in love one minute and heartbroken the next. That's why some adults refer to it as puppy love, and are so damned patronizing with their 'Oh, you'll get over it' crap. It's true when you're younger emotions can come and go faster, but they're so frequent and so strong. It's uncontrollably melodramatic, and that makes life exhausting. Sometimes being a kid--especially a teenager--is just plain shitty."

I'd never heard any adult admit this.

He stroked his beard. "Maybe people have enough problems aging that they can't bear to remember how hard growing up really is."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "I thought things were simpler when you were a teenager."

He had to smile at that.

"And honestly? I'm 'freaked out,' as you say, I'm struggling with this. I'm in uncharted territory. I'd rather have you wait until you're both older until you fell in love, and not with one another. I'd rather that all kids just waited until they're thirty before having inconvenient urges. I'm not sure if I know the right way to handle this, but I guess I'm as prepared as I'm going to be.

"Your Mom and I talked about this, early on. It was clear to her how you felt about each other, and she predicted this would happen. She tried to tell me, but I rejected the notion. I thought that she was just being a romantic, but she knew it from the minute you met."

In my head I added, "...and encouraged it."

"Even when I first admitted... I knew about you, Cory. I mean, I assumed that you'd grow out of it. I hoped that as you grew up, you'd fall in love with a nice girl and avoid the family curse. For a while I thought... I saw you acting distant from each other. I was very relieved.

"I guess that I just saw what I wanted to see, and I know better than that. It was hard to accept, that your Mom may have been right, and that you two..." he trailed off, not quite sure how to describe the situation.

"...are in love?" I ventured. Something was nagging at a corner of my brain.

"You're respectful and obedient kids," he glanced at Jessie. "...mostly, I mean. But I've raised you to think for yourselves and to be tenacious, too. Cory, I know you had to figure out your own heart, and it really hurt me to watch. Now I know the process has been hard on both of you, and I'm sorry for that."

"Yeah," Jessie whispered.

"I want to be clear--this situation isn't your fault. You can't help how you feel, any more than your Mom and I did when we were young. Maybe I can help you make better choices.

"The things you said last night, Cory? That took a lot of courage, and whatever this is, it's brought out a side of you I didn't know was there. As painful as this is for me, I recognize and respect your passion.

"I can see that you're in love with each other--that's plain as day. Normally at the beginning of a relationship, there is a degree of infatuation, and I see that's true with you two."

"I have to disagree with you there, Dad,"

"With which part?"

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, Jess, but I don't think 'infatuated' is a fair assessment, Dad. We're excited. When you got out of the Army and found Mom, were you infatuated with her?"

"No, I wouldn't say that, but then we'd loved each other for years, and just reunited as a couple. So yeah, maybe excited is a better term. But you kids..."

"...have loved each other for years," I broke in again. "And just yesterday reunited as a couple. How is that so different?"

He pulled on his beard but didn't say anything.

"Besides, Dad, infatuation is usually based on unrealistic perceptions."

"I'm glad you understand that. Eventually the feeling of 'falling in love' goes away, turns sour, or becomes a deep and lasting love."

"But we've lived together for years. We know what we're getting."

Dad scowled.

"Dad, you of all people should know from experience is that some teens really do understand what real love is." That earned me another scowl.

"Cory, you kids are mature for your age, but a fifteen-year-old's brain just isn't fully developed. Physiologically, I mean, especially where actions and consequences are concerned. That's a scientific fact."

Jessie's eyes narrowed. "So, you want us to wait until we're twenty-three to start making decisions about our lives?"

"Dad," I said, "you've given us responsibilities to help us learn to be responsible. You've never told us not to act because we might fail. You try to make the consequences clear and let us decide."

"Okay," he said, "let's seriously consider the consequences of failure, especially knowing that, statistically, no matter who you have a relationship with, the odds are hard against you.

"The most serious downside of failed relationship is if children are involved. Little kids shouldn't have to suffer because their parents were lazy, irresponsible, or just being spontaneous. I'm going on the premise that, again, no matter who you you're with, you'll wait until at least your mid-twenties to have kids, until you've graduated from college and have held a job for a while. You both know how to prevent pregnancy, and I expect you to do so, no matter what. Can you promise me that?"

"Yes, I promise."

"I promise, too, Daddy."

"I really don't think you're ready for sex. Maybe I'm prejudiced because of my experience, but that doesn't make me wrong."

"On the other hand, Dad, you also know from experience that when two people are intent on it, they'll eventually find a way to be together, and there is nothing anyone could say that'll stop them." I could tell that didn't sit well. "Like you said, no matter who we love, we know it's up to us to apply everything you taught us."

Dad nodded. "The next most serious result of a failed relationship is what it costs emotionally. If it doesn't work out, it could turn your affection to bitterness, and poison your relationship for the rest of your lives. It could consume you with hate and recrimination toward each other. Even my relationship with you could become collateral damage."

I thought about my anger at Mom. He was right--it was a real risk.

"And don't you dare say it won't happen," he went on. "Everybody who gets married says that, and they all have more experience than you. But half are proven wrong. So, could you live with hating each other?"

"I honestly don't know if I could take it, Dad," I answered. "It'd tear my heart from inside me. But I know I can't live like this."

Jessie shifted in her chair. "Daddy, you always said that fools regret what they've done, and the wise regret what they didn't do. I'd be a fool not to try to work this out, and to torture myself with 'what-ifs' for the rest of my life."

That comment earned her a stern look, but it was true. He took that deep breath, the one that usually comes before bad news.

"I don't know how you expect me to tolerate this relationship, much less actively support it. It goes against my common sense and--in many ways--against my morals. But I don't have a lot of options. We'll just have to deal with reality and do the best we can.

"Now that you know how the other feels, it's dangerous, and it makes every part of our lives complicated. As your parent it's my job to protect us all.

"First, let's talk about those consequences. You were right last night. People aren't blind, and they'll figure it out, sooner rather than later. In days, maybe hours, it could be very public knowledge."

"Daddy, my friends already know I'm in love--I just haven't told them who. All I'd have to do is look at Cory now and it might as well be a neon sign. School's where we'll get caught."

"Have either of you shared your feelings with anyone?"

"I told you that Spaz figured it out, about me, I mean. He means well, but if there's a leak, it'll be him. Oh, and I talked to Father John on Saturday."

Dad's eyebrows went up. "Really. And what did he tell you?"

"Just that I should talk to you."

"Oh, okay... How about you, Bug?"

"I talked to Father John, too. The day after I tried to talk to Cory about it."

"You did, huh? That's interesting."

So, I thought, the old priest knew all week and didn't tell Dad. Maybe he couldn't.

"Cory, your friend knows about you and will likely let it slip. What'll happen when your other friends find out? I'm not talking about name-calling. How will your friends behave around you? Will they support you, or will they treat you like a freak? More than that, how will their parents react--do you think they'd still ask you over, or let your friends come here?

"How would they feel about their kids going to school with you? How about our neighbors? Even the people at our church? They're good Christians, and they wouldn't abide anything they considered so sinful. Reverend Adams--would he support or condemn you?

"If people knew about both of you it'd be ten times worse. Everyone in town knows you as brother and sister, and they're already on edge because of Amanda's family. Cory's right--they'll jump to conclusions. Rumors and accusations will fly. I've seen this kind of thing. They'll take you, separate you, and put you in foster care. Yeah, maybe I'd lose my job."

"So, Dad, you're saying it's inevitable. We've already opened Pandora's Box."

"Not yet, but as soon as it's public. I'm not telling you this to frighten you, but you have to understand what we're up against."

"It's not working," Jess mumbled. "I'm scared."

"Well, Bug, being in a crisis is scary, but fortunately your Dad's pretty good in crisis situations. The way to handle a crisis is to be prepared, stay calm, assess the situation realistically, consider all your options, and take your best shot."

I reached for Jessie's hand under the table.

"One of us could switch to a different school," I suggested. "There are private schools around here, like parochial schools, right? That way you could at least keep your job and the house and everything."

"It's something I considered when I started to suspect your problem, Cory. That'd be the easiest option. There'd be much less opportunity to interact in front of other people. There are two religious schools that are accredited for tenth grade--one here and one near work. Both are very small, fewer than twenty students. As a new kid, you'd be the subject of intense curiosity."

It didn't sound pleasant, but I was willing to do whatever was necessary. "That's okay, Dad. I'm sure I could make it work. I'd find a way to blend in. If you think that's best, I'll try."

"I appreciate the can-do attitude, Son. But you have no idea how brave those words are. I think you'd find it claustrophobic to be the only kid in your grade."

"There's a bigger problem. Both of them are, religiously speaking, extremely different from our church. Don't get me wrong. They aren't bad places, and I'm sure the people are good people. But I cannot abide what these groups preach, and I won't have you indoctrinated into their thinking."

"Are there some that aren't religious?"

"There's the alternative high school north of here..."

"I considered that. It's for kids with problems and would require your principal's recommendation. There's nothing in your grades or behavior that supports it. It'd look very peculiar for me to request a transfer for either of you.

"Cory, I thought that you might actually enjoy the vocational school, but they have a long waiting list. I'm not even sure we could get you in next fall. There are also a couple treatment campuses, but you'd have to have behavioral problems or addictions to get in."

He sighed. "If we lived near Detroit or Chicago we'd have plenty of choices, but there just isn't a big selection around here. I think that covers the less drastic options. The other two choices are that one of us goes or we all go," Dad said.

"Yeah, we thought you might send one of us away." I sighed. "In other families, one of us could go live with a relative, an aunt or uncle, you know? But I don't think we have anybody--not one that would be appropriate. We thought about a boarding school. At least we could stay in contact and see each other on breaks."

"What about the ranch? Maybe one of us could live there for a couple years."

Dad leaned back in his chair.

"Look kids, it gets really complicated. But for many reasons I can't--I won't--send one of you away. I'm..." He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Let's just say I'm not willing to give up being your parent right now. Maybe it's selfish, but I just won't do it. As the executive, I say we stay together. That's more important than my job, this house, or any of the stuff in it. Almost all of it can be replaced."

"It doesn't seem so bad when you put it like that, Daddy."

"Besides, at least I'll have some influence if I keep you together. Bottom line?" He sighed. "If you really can't get past your feelings for one another, we can't stay here. Do you understand? We'll have to leave, and do it soon, before anyone catches on. So... Are you really, truly in love? Are you ready to give up everything--your friends, your home, everything you've known--for this feeling you have?"

Sis looked at me. "Any doubts?"

I shook my head. "No, no doubts." Then to Dad, "I don't want you to lose your job for us. I feel bad that we've put you in that position. But it's not going away. I think you're right. We can't stay here. We'll move somewhere else. Start over. It'd probably have to be out of state."

"At least in a new school," Jess said, "no one will assume we're related. But if we lived together and acted like boyfriend and girlfriend, it still would raise questions. How about someplace bigger, with two high schools? That'd work better. We'd still have to maintain the pretense--separate bedrooms and all." Dad and I both raised our eyebrows, but she didn't seem to notice. "And we probably couldn't have mutual friends."

"You're right. You still couldn't interact with any friends. The way you look at each other, you probably couldn't even go grocery shopping together. It'd only be a temporary solution. No matter where we go, eventually you'll have to interact in public, and the truth will out.

"Okay, so even if we move we have a couple serious problems. First, you can't just hide. There are compulsory attendance laws in every state, and you're not dropping out.

"Second, you're under age and will be for the next two years. As Cory pointed out, you're only human, and I can't have you sneaking into each other's beds." He glared at Jessie, and she looked at her feet.

"Any sexual contact between you--anything--is against the law, and it would be my duty to prevent it. If it was determined that I knew, should've known, ignored, or especially if I condoned it, they could send me to prison, and send you to foster care. Separately.

"Finally, even if all those things were legal, as a father, I wouldn't permit it. Maybe it's some instinctual thing, but it's just not acceptable. I don't know any dad that would allow his underage daughter's boyfriend to live in the same house."

He was quiet for a moment. I studied his face. His forehead wasn't wrinkled, so he wasn't pondering. Jess and I glanced at each other. The pause grew too long for simple effect. He actually looked indecisive, something I had never seen.

"There just aren't a lot of options," he groaned softly. "Jessie? Cory? I need to know how serious you're about these feelings for each other."

"Dad, we couldn't be more serious. We're already married, in the important way. We've promised to love each other."

"We already said I do." Jessie clarified. "Like you and Mom did when you were our age."

"Are you willing to say it again?" he asked.

"Sure." We looked at each other, and together said, "I do."

"Not now, not for me, for real."

"Do you mean...?" Jessie asked.

"If you could, would you really marry each other? Seriously."

It felt like my heart stopped beating.

"We told you, Daddy. We're already married for real. If we could do it legally, too? Of course--in a heartbeat."

"And you?" he asked.

"I told you, Dad. We're going to as soon as we can."

He sighed deeply, as if defeated. He closed his eyes. "Emma if you're listening..." and then, "May God forgive me. I just don't see any other solution. I guess it's Colorado."

Did he just say that? Jessie looked at me, her eyes wide. I was stunned. Jessie started jumping up and down and squealing, but I couldn't believe it. There was no way that he just said that. We all hugged, but something wasn't right. How could he have completely changed his mind overnight?

"Cory, there is a correct way to do this. Do you remember when we talked about paying respect to another male?"

The memory was vivid, though I didn't remember much "we" in the discussion.

"Yes, of course."

"This is one of those times." I could almost picture him pawing the ground, horns lowered and nostrils flaring. "It's traditional for a hopeful suitor to first ask the girl's father for permission, man to man." Jessie sat down with her hands over her mouth. "Right now, I'm not acting as your Dad. I'm her father, and I don't take this subject lightly."

This was definitely strange. But whatever this was, it wasn't a joke. There was that hardness in his face. I felt giddy and terrified. Okay, well, here goes...

"Sir, I'd like permission to marry your daughter... And your blessing." Behind me, Jessie emitted a quiet peep.

"You're both very young, and I'm only forty-one. I believe it's fatal for a man to be a grandfather before he's fifty. Would I have your word that you won't send me to an early grave?"

He betrayed no amusement, so I suppressed a smile. "Yes, sir. You have my word."

"That passion you showed me last night... Can you keep that in your heart for her every day?"

"Absolutely," I said.

"Do you understand that if you're ever unkind or untrue I'll personally break your legs?"

It didn't feel nearly as good being on the other side of those words. And how'd he know that anyway? I really couldn't tell if he was just teasing me now and I could laugh. I looked in his eyes for a clue. He was serious.

"I'll be kind and faithful," I promised.

"Then you have my permission to ask her. As proof of my approval, you may offer her this."

From his shirt pocket, he produced a small gold ring. He held it up hesitantly. I took it from his hand. A single, tiny diamond flashed in the light. "It was... It was her mother's. If she accepts, you also have my blessing."

I was overwhelmed to be holding this object. It had united my parents. It had been worn by my mother. It had to be the dearest thing Dad had left of her, and he was giving it up. He was giving it up to make the impossible a reality.

I threw my arms around him. He gave me a hug, but then pushed me away. "Go on then."

I turned around to see Jessie in her chair with her hands still over her mouth. This was surreal, but I thought I knew what to do next. I knelt down beside her and she turned to me, hands on her knees. I held up the ring.

"Jessie, I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?"

She nodded, as overfilled as I was. I slipped the ring onto her left hand, and then bent to seal it in place with a kiss. I looked at Dad, I guess to see if I'd done it right.

"Well?" he asked expectantly and gestured with his hands. "Are you going to kiss each other or what?"

I know we kissed, but I don't remember much of the rest of that afternoon. It was a lot to take in. Jessie and I kept staring at the ring in disbelief. I thought my heart might burst with happiness. Sis was burning to tell her friends, but she couldn't, and that was clearly torture. She kept picking up the phone and putting it down.

At one point, Jess and I ran around the house just laughing and screaming in joy. We collapsed on the couch, amazed and exhausted. She lay next to me and Dad joined us, sitting in his chair.

Spaz called in the afternoon. He and Jody had spent most of the weekend together and he had to fill me in on every detail, including the fact that she kissed him.

"How was it?"

"Un-freaking-believable." After almost an hour he said, "Enough about me. How are you doing?"

I was dying to tell him but couldn't.

"Pretty good, thanks. I should get off the phone though."

After dinner, I asked to see the ring again. "I can't believe you're wearing Mom's ring. I can't believe you're wearing it for me, Sis."

"You can't say that. I'm not your sister anymore. You need to get in the habit of just calling me Jessie."

"Ah, yeah, right. This's going to be weird..."

"This has been the best day of my life," she said.

"Mine, too. Thank you, Dad. Thanks for everything."

"Yeah, it's been a strange one. But I have to say, I'm happy. There is nothing in the world that could give me more pleasure than the joy on your faces, and to see the love between you." His face didn't look that thrilled. "Wait until you see what I'm getting you for your birthday."

"We don't need anything, Dad."

"I know. That's why it's such a good gift."

That nagging, illusive thought had returned.

He stood and stretched. "Okay, you fiancées, I'm going to bed. We have stuff to do tomorrow. Please, stay in your own rooms tonight, doors open. Breakfast is at five, sharp. I expect you to be at the table showered and dressed." With that, he rose and disappeared into the master bedroom, closing the door behind him.

# Chapter 54

"What's with breakfast at five? What is he, crazy? And the way he just walked off without a hug or anything."

"I guess we'll just have to hug each other. Goodnight, Si– Jessie. Sleep well."

"Good night, Cory." She sounded normal, but suddenly the giddiness hit her again. "Oh my God, I can't believe this's happening!" She shivered with excitement.

"I know what you mean. It just blows my mind. Two days ago, I had no idea, and then we thought the world was going to end." I sighed. "This has been a good day. A really good day. G'night and sweet dreams. I love you."

"I love you, too." One more kiss... And one more, longer kiss... And one more really long kiss.

I took her hand and walked her down the hall, past her room. She sat down in my desk chair.

"Let's practice our vows," she said.

"Okay, you first."

"No, let's do them together."

It took us a couple times through until we were satisfied.

"Okay. That's good. Kiss me goodnight?"

She leaned in, running her hand up my thigh.

"Cory, I can't wait. I want tonight to be the night."

Adrenalin flooded my whole body, but after the rush had passed, I shook my head.

"Not yet. I want to wait until after we say those words for real. But..." My heart hammered, trying to escape my chest. "Jessie, stop me if I'm out of line here."

She looked at me a little cautiously.

"We really need to get some sleep, right?"

Her shoulders slumped. "I know."

"Um, Jess? You know what always helps me sleep?"

She stayed silent for a second. "Okaaaay... I think I know what you mean."

"Dad's right, this stuff is really difficult to talk about. Okay, I'll just say it. Masturbating helps me sleep."

"Do you mean now, like, right now?" she whispered.

"Yeah, right now. So we can sleep."

"Cory, I'm nervous..."

"We don't have to, it's just a suggestion."

"No, I'm interested. I just don't know what you want me to do."

"Let's keep it simple," I said. "Um, how about I'll show you what I do, and then you can show me what you do."

She nodded.

"You have to say it."

"Say what?" she asked.

"You have to say yes."

"Oh, yeah. Yes!" she whispered. "You have my enthusiastic consent, but only that far tonight, okay?"

"Good."

"But we'll... Do more. Soon, just not tonight, right?"

I nodded.

She sat in the chair as we silently pulled off our boots and socks. We stood, hesitating for a moment, and then I unbuttoned my shirt and slid out of it, and pulled the t-shirt over my head. I looked up as she wriggled off her sports bra. My hands shook as I unbuckled my belt and stepped out of my jeans.

"Let me," she said. Kneeling, she took the waistband of my boxers and pulled it out toward her. Then, palms flat against my skin, she slid the garment down my thighs to my ankles. I stepped out and stood naked in front of her, feeling very vulnerable.

Then it was my turn. The fabric was so soft and thin, almost nothing at all. As I leaned close, I inhaled the scent of her warm skin.

We stood for a moment, admiring each other. My God, she was beautiful. She pulled back the covers and we scrambled into my bed. When our skin touched it made me dizzy. We pushed the covers down, so we could see everything.

I went first. I was overexcited, and it wasn't very romantic. I was done almost before I started, but it was jarring.

"Huh," she giggled in my ear. "That was just like I had imagined, but faster."

"It's like that sometimes," I gasped, reaching for a tissue.

"No need to explain. Now shut up and hold me tight..."

I slid my arm under her shoulders, cradling her.

"Ow, you're on my hair... no, lift your arm."

"Sorry."

"That's better."

I watched her abdomen rise and fall, and felt her breathing get deeper. She was as fast as I had been. Her body twitched as she leaned her head back, coughing and sniffling. Concerned, I lifted my head to look at her face. Her chin and lips trembled. Streams of tears rolled down both sides of her face.

I loosened my grip on her shoulder.

"Jess, are you okay? Did I hurt you?" I whispered.

She shook her head no, but just continued to sob. There was nothing else I could do. I held her shaking body in my arms. Her breathing eventually slowed, and her diaphragm quivered less and less.

"Are you okay, Jess?"

"Just hold me."

So, I did.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because for the first time, I'm not alone. I'm so happy... I ran out of words. I had to make do with tears."

We lay next to each other for a long time, just holding hands, relieved to hear Dad snoring down the hall. Suddenly it was silent and we Jessie looked at me in panic. After several long minutes the sound resumed.

"I'd better go," she whispered. After a few rushed kisses, she gathered her clothes and tiptoed out of the room.

There was no way I could sleep. My veins pumped full of adrenaline and my brain wouldn't slow down. I relived the evening over and over in my mind. I thought about Jessie, and how I couldn't remember a day without her in my life. I thought about the day we met, how the leaves smelled, and how she just latched right onto Mom.

Mom. Whatever bugged me had to do with her. I had nursed my rage for so long, it had become an integral part of me. I had been through hell because of her fantasies, but now I wondered if they were more than fairytales in her mind. I wasn't even sure if I should be angry anymore.

What she had done was... Weird. But she had obviously believed in it very strongly. Even when it had pissed off Dad. Had she done it out of love or insanity? Bad question--the answers weren't mutually exclusive. In a way it didn't matter. If we're happy, who cares?

But I didn't like feeling manipulated. Maybe that was it. It made me question Dad's motives. His response to the whole thing seemed really strange--he'd been so adamant the day before. I'd caught him looking disturbed when we kissed. Was he really supporting us out of love, or just pragmatism? But again, did it really matter?

I drifted off with these questions spinning in my head. I dreamt that Jessie was holding that plastic flower, with joy in her eyes. She laughed that high, silly laugh I loved so much. "Oh, Cory, we chose each other."

# Chapter 55--Tue. Dec. 13

The morning of our sixteenth birthday we ate cold cereal for breakfast in the mid-December darkness. Exhausted and a little apprehensive, we looked at Dad for a clue. He'd hardly said a word, and he seemed tense. We washed the dishes while he disappeared into his room. He came out with an old leather briefcase.

"Get your coats on. Get your wallets. We're going for a ride. Bug, bring your purse. Put on your gloves and leave them on."

The still air was bitter cold against my face, and the sky was crystalline black. Hard snow crunched and squeaked under the truck tires. The words from my dream still bounced around in my head as we drove through town. "We chose each other." It seemed so odd not to be angry anymore, almost as if its absence left a hole in me.

The sun was still an hour from rising when we pulled into the airport. Dad guided the pickup through a gate and out of sight behind a hanger. Jessie and I exchanged a hopeful glance.

Dad led us out onto the tarmac. A familiar private plane loomed nearby. Dad greeted a man in the darkness. "Good morning. Are you Lester?" Jessie gripped my arm like a vice.

"Pleased ta meet ya Mr. Laine. Hi, kids. No luggage?"

Dad shook his hand. "Just us. Thanks for coming on such short notice."

"I brought that form you wanted." Lester handed him a manila envelope.

"Daddy, are we..."

"Hang on, Bug, not yet."

We climbed in and took our seats.

"Okay, folks," Lester droned. "Please return to your seats and extinguish your cigarettes. Gentlemen, please remove your hats if you have not already done so and help the ladies with their seatbelts--if requested."

We taxied to the runway and got clearance. The engines roared outside the windows and we were almost instantly airborne.

Jessie crushed my hand in hers. Damn, she was strong.

"Daddy, are we running away?"

"No, we'll be back tonight. We're taking a day trip to Colorado." He broke out in a big smile. "Happy birthday."

Jessie shrieked in joy, bouncing in her seat and clapping her hands. Lester turned and smiled. Our seatbelts came off and we all hugged.

"Thank you, thank you!" Jessie laughed, but I couldn't get a sound out. He chuckled like he used to.

"You okay, Son?"

I nodded, but still couldn't speak for a minute.

"So, I'm going to ask you again. If either of you have even the smallest hesitation or doubt in your mind, I need to know. I won't be mad--this is way too important to be unsure. Honestly, I'd be very relieved if you want to wait. We'll just have a nice birthday together and go home."

"I'm nervous and excited, Dad, but this's what I really want. Jessie, if you have any hesitation, I totally understand. I'd try my best to just be your brother."

She looked at Dad, and then deep into my eyes. "He might feel relived, Cory, but if you backed out now you'd break my heart." Then she added with a wicked smile, "And I'd probably have to break your legs. Thank you, Daddy, but I've never been more certain."

My brain cells danced in circles. This was amazing. This was real, our wedding day!

"I can't begin..."

"No need, Cory. Once I ran through all the possibilities, the path was clear. I'm trying to do what I think is best. I'm doing what I need to do.

"Go ahead and take off your gloves, Bug, and admire your new jewelry if you want. If everything goes well, you can get married today." Again, my hand was crushed, the fingers nearly dislocated.

"The plan is to fly in this morning, take care of things, and fly home tonight. It might be a long day. Here's how it works. Because of the time zones, we'll gain a couple hours on the way there, so it'll still be early. We go to the county clerk's office and apply for the marriage license." He opened Lester's envelope. "This is the application. Cory, go ahead and fill out the top part. Don't sign it yet, we have to do that in front of the Register."

"Dad? Do we need a consent letter or something from you?"

"No, I just sign the application here, and here. And we don't have to wait--they approve it right on the spot."

When I was done with the form he opened the briefcase and put the application in a folder. "We'll all need to show our identification, and whatever supporting documents they need. These are your Social Security cards." Jess and I put them away.

Dad handed me some cash. "Um, thanks, Dad."

"That money is for the application fees and extra copies of the marriage certificate." I appreciated that he'd let me pay.

"I have all four birth certificates, yours, Mom's, and mine, just in case. This was our marriage license. These are your adoption papers, Bug, and this one is your Mom's death certificate." He offered them to us to look at, but I didn't even want to hold the last one.

"But that's just the license, guys. I hope that part will be done by lunch. I've arranged a place for the actual wedding, along with a minister to perform the ceremony. I hope that's okay."

"Yeah, of course."

"He'll sign the license and mail it back to the court. We'll get our extra copies in the mail."

We nodded.

"Okay kids, I need you to do something for me." He pulled out two pieces of paper.

"What is it?" Jessie asked.

"This is a pre-nuptial agreement."

I laughed. "But Dad, we don't need that. We haven't got anything to divide. Besides, we aren't going to..."

"This is no laughing matter, Son. The divorce rate for young couples is astronomical. Whether you acknowledge it or not, you two probably won't make it in the long run."

Jessie and I searched each other's eyes. His pessimism surprised and scared us both.

"Kids, I want each of you to read this carefully. If the terms seem fair, I want you to sign both copies."

I looked at the document, written in Dad's neat printing. It said that if we split up, we agreed not to sue each other for divorce, but to come to a mutual agreement with the help of an arbitrator, Judge Daniel Franks. He'd have a contract written up, and we'd each sign it without changes.

"I don't have any problem with this, but I have a couple questions. Why Daniel?"

"Because it's a terrible task, and he was willing."

"Not to be indelicate, but he isn't a young guy. What happens if he's not there?"

"He isn't going anywhere for a while. If your marriage outlives him, you'll be able to handle things on your own."

"But why are you giving us permission if you think we'll fail?"

"Because even though the odds are against you, I have faith in your relationship. I want you to succeed, but I also want you to be realistic."

I signed one copy, passed it to Jessie, and then I signed the other copy. It left a cold lump in the pit of my stomach.

He collected the documents and snapped the case closed, setting it beside his seat.

"I didn't like that, Cory," Jess whispered.

"Me either, but it's okay. You're all I want in the word. The rest is just stuff."

He motioned for us to come close. "A few more things."

"The marriage certificate you get today is totally, one-hundred percent real and valid where it's issued. At home it could be challenged--not recognized--because the state laws are different. Of course, if we're trying to defend it legally, the manure has already contacted the impeller. We'd have to leave on very short notice."

"We understand," Jessie said. "Nobody can know.

"Dad, this is wonderful, but we could have gone commercial..."

"Timing and discretion, Cory. We were able to get to the airport before dawn. The truck is out of sight. There were no ticket agents or fellow passengers to notice our trip. A chartered jet would've been a lot faster, but an out-of-state Piper blends right in. Not much to gossip about there. And we have control of the schedule if there are any snags."

He looked up to the cockpit, where Lester was yawning.

"Is there any detail you haven't thought of, Dad?"

"I sure hope not. There is one thing I do want to discuss before we get home. Jessie and Cory, you're going to be man and wife, in your hearts, in my eyes, and in all other ways." He seemed uncomfortable. "As such, I technically have no right, legally, to tell you what to do, but I'm still the dad here." He was really struggling with this. "I know that it's--traditional, and understandable--that a couple would, um, consummate their union on their wedding night..."

Jessie slapped her hand over her eyes. No wonder he was having such a hard time. I stepped in to rescue him. "Dad, we're in no hurry," I interrupted. "We're content right now to share a bed, to hold each other, and to wake up together. Right, Jess?"

Jessie looked at me horrified. She clearly had different intentions.

Dad sighed. "I was actually going to ask that you keep using your own beds. I think the deeper you... Get involved, the harder it'll be to avoid..."

I nodded. "...Other people noticing, I understand. If you think that's best, Dad, we'll try."

"No, Cory." Jessie said. "I can't promise that. Dad, I respect you, and always want to honor your wishes." She inhaled deeply. "But I will sleep with my husband." Her emphasis made it clear she was referring to both interpretations. "My husband, get it?"

I was caught in the middle and saw no reason to argue the point at that moment. "Jess, please," I said. She turned to me with intensity, as if daring me to challenge her. What could I say that wouldn't just escalate the problem?

"Jessie, um, you're my best friend and soon, my wife... Listen to my heart." The fury in her eyes melted a little. "This isn't how I want to start our marriage. Dad's giving us so much today. Not just the trip, but his consent and his blessing. This's the only, the _only_ thing he's asked in return." She closed her eyes and lowered her head. I took a deep breath.

"Dad, what you're asking's far too much to expect of my wife and me."

Jessie's eyes popped open and Dad set his jaw at this reversal.

"But it isn't an expectation," I went on, "just a respectful request. What you're asking for is a huge sacrifice. But... Out of love... I'm willing to honor your wishes, at least for tonight. That is, if my wife will agree also."

I held out my hands, prompting her. She sighed. "I guess. I agree."

Dad glanced at me, obviously uncomfortable with the terms, but unwilling to fight tomorrow's battle. He had asked, I thought. By giving his consent to marry, Dad had renounced the control that we'd assumed between us. The balance of power would shift--it already had. At the barest level, he held the money and we held the family. And he'd already made it clear which of those was more important to him. Maybe that should've made me feel more powerful, but it actually scared me.

"Thank you. Both of you. I know this is awkward--it's hard for me, too. We'll figure it all out eventually."

"Dad," I said, "I can only imagine how rough all this is for you. It's easy for us to forget the sacrifices you're making, too." He reached out and squeezed my arm.

That creeping feeling was back and burning like a hot brand. It came down to this--was it Mom's idea, or ours? Did she instigate it, or just acknowledge it?

"Jess?" I hesitated. "I was thinking about when we met, at the orphanage?"

"What about it?"

"I had this dream last night... Do you think we picked each other?"

"I know so. I was so happy that you chose me, Cory."

"What do you mean?"

"When we met. On the playground. I was hoping you'd choose me."

So, Jess didn't think it was Mom's idea. "Did you choose me, too?" I asked.

"At first sight."

I started to cry. I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop. All that hate and anger just melted into grief. For the first time in three years I let myself weep for Mom's loss. Dad looked concerned, but Jessie was nearly panicked.

"What's wrong, Cory? Are you okay?"

I couldn't answer. The bowling ball in my throat was too big. Jessie just held me and stroked my hair like Mom used to do. That made me cry all the harder. After several minutes I was able to squeak out "Oh my God, Jess--I miss her so much!"

"Who?"

"Mom. I wish she was here."

"I know, Sweetie, me too."

Dad had been watching silently, and now I saw his mouth harden.

"I've been... Mad at Mom," I said

"Why?" she asked.

"I blamed her for, like, brainwashing me and making me want you so much, and for... For me being so miserable." Dad was studying me again. "But you're right. I knew you, even back then. I mean I recognized you."

"I knew you too, Cory. You had the nicest, kindest eyes. Still do." We just held each other for a long time.

"Dad?" I asked, "What did Mom say to you that day?" He was lost in his own thoughts.

"About what?"

"Um, about why you should adopt Jessie."

"Huh, I don't remember if we even discussed the why. It just seemed obvious. You two had already made your decision," he chuckled. "When Jessie came to live with us we saw how deep it went between you two, and I knew we'd done the right thing. I just couldn't believe it'd come to this. I've been trying to figure out if I failed somehow, if maybe I'd taken Mom more seriously we could have avoided such a drastic solution. I just don't know. But there it is."

"Kids, I don't think I ever apologized."

"For what?"

"When Mom died I wasn't there for you. You were abandoned twice, and I wish that I could have been stronger. I've been trying to make up for it ever since. It's what keeps me going."

"Aww," Jessie said. "That's so nice of you, and so unnecessary." She hopped over and gave him a hug.

"I'm really proud of you kids for getting by without me when you had to. I'm at peace that you'll be able to handle... becoming adults so young."

# Chapter 56

It was ten in the morning local time when we touched down. Lester opened the door and guided us down the steps. Dad thanked him, and said he'd call when we were ready to leave. Daniel waited for us by his truck. The Judge hugged us both and clasped his hand on Dad's arm.

"Long time."

"Good to see you, Judge."

He drove us to the county office on Lincoln Street and dropped us off at the door.

"I gotta run make a copy of this. I'll join you in a bit."

On the sidewalk I held up Jessie's hand and admired her ring as the little gem flashed and burned in the sunlight. She smiled at me and I had to stop and catch my breath because my heart kept coming unglued.

Inside the quiet lobby, a young couple stood at the counter, and a man in a business suit waited in line.

The lady behind the counter shuffled paperwork. After what seemed to be hours, she handed the couple a document. The girl giggled and kissed the guy. They left hand in hand.

"Next, please?" The man in the suit handed her some papers. She looked them over and thanked him. She filed them in a large cabinet and returned to the counter. She wore a nametag with embossed letters. Gloria.

"Next, please?" We're up--my heart raced and I felt woozy.

Dad broke into a charming smile. "Good morning, Miss Gloria. Do you ever get tired of seeing giddy people?"

"It's one of the perks," she said unenthusiastically. "How can I help you?"

He set the briefcase on the counter and took out the application. "Well, to start, you can make sure we didn't fill this out wrong."

Gloria put on the reading glasses that hung around her neck and scanned the application. She glanced at Jessie and me, then glanced back at me again, like people did when they first saw my face. Her eyes narrowed a hair as she looked at Dad. She focused on the form, knitting her brow.

She asked for our documents and verified the Social Security numbers on the application against our cards. At her direction, Jessie and I each signed the application. Dad signed last, and I saw her eyebrows go up as he signed consent for each of us. She compared the signatures to our ID cards.

"I'll be right back," she said, taking the application with her. She showed it to another lady. They spoke for a minute, and then Gloria returned.

"Mr. Laine, my supervisor would like to ask you some questions about the application. Please step down to the end, and she'll be right with you."

We walked to the other end of the counter. Gloria called, "Next, please?" Another couple took our place.

The second lady came to the counter. Her name badge read, "Harriet."

"Mr. Laine?"

"Yes?" Dad and I said at the same time. She ignored me.

"This is a very unusual application. Can you tell me a little about the circumstances?"

"Of course," he said cheerfully. "This is my son, Cory. Jessie here is my adopted daughter."

He showed her my birth certificate and Jessie's adoption papers. He pulled out Mom's death certificate.

"My wife, their mother, passed away several years ago, so there's only me to grant consent."

Harriet gazed at us indifferently.

"I'm here to give my permission, because as the one person responsible for them, I feel it's in their best interest."

Harriet pursed her lips. "So, they're siblings, then?"

"Biologically? No, they're not related."

"I've never seen one person sign for both minors."

"I'm the sole person responsible for each, and I'm here in the same capacity for each. Would you be more comfortable if my wife and I were both able to sign?"

"Yes, I would, Mr. Laine."

"So would we, but in her absence, I assume your office doesn't discriminate against people solely based on their marital status? Such as a widow or widower?"

"Of course not," said Harriet, frowning. "I see that you're not residents."

"Is that a requirement, Ma'am?" he asked.

"No," she admitted. "But they just turned sixteen today?"

"That's correct." Dad sounded cheerful. "The law allows them to marry at sixteen with my consent, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does." She was obviously getting frustrated. "Well... Since your daughter is adopted... There really is no way to tell if the two are biologically related or not."

"Hmm... You have a point there."

A relieved smile appeared at the comer of Harriet's lips. Jess and I looked at each other in shock. Was he really going to give up to such a flimsy excuse?

"But everything else is in order? That's the state's only objection?"

"Yes, Sir, but it's enough that I cannot approve this application. I'm sorry Mr. Laine."

"Please don't be sorry, Harriet," he said. "I agree, that's a very reasonable question." He reached into the case for the last document, which he gently slid across the counter--a large white envelope with the genetic labs logo.

"Fortunately, we had some testing done. Would you like to read the report?"

"That won't be necessary," she snipped. "But I still don't think I can approve this application Mr. Laine. I'm uncomfortable with issuing a license under these circumstances."

His voice was as low growl. "Is your personal opinion of our legal rights a state requirement?" The contrast in his tone couldn't have been more jarring. It took us all totally aback, including Harriet, who almost dropped the paper.

"Now," he continued cordially, "Harriet, does this application meet state requirements or does it not?"

"I'll have to check with the director. If you leave me your phone number, I'll have his secretary set up an appointment."

That's when Daniel walked in.

"Hi Daniel!" Jessie called. I just raised my scarred right hand to wave.

"Hey kids!" he said in his hearty tenor voice. He shook Dad's hand. "Sorry, that took a cupla minutes. Do ya need this?"

"Yes, I think it'd be beneficial," Dad replied.

The Judge set an envelope on the counter. "Good morning," he squinted at her name tag, "Harriet. You're new here aren't you? I think you'll find this document... Helpful."

I could see that it was Daniel's personal letterhead. Her lips moved as her eyes slowly scanned each line. Her eyebrows went up, and she started glancing from the page to Daniel's face and back again. Then, with a little shrug, she visibly conceded.

"Thank you, Your Honor."

She returned our documents, I paid her the fee and took my receipt. Dad put it in the briefcase.

"Please mail the copies to this address." He handed a slip of paper to Harriet. I glanced at it.

"Who's Debbie Peterson, Dad?"

"Our lawyer."

I didn't know we had a lawyer.

Harriet signed and stamped the license. As we left, Gloria called, "Next, please?"

With the license in the briefcase and the tension removed, Jessie fairly skipped down the hall.

Outside, the sun danced between the clouds. Dad had what he'd call a little spring in his step. Daniel walked us back to the truck and drove us to a nice hotel.

In the lobby, Dad walked to the front desk. Jess and I took the opportunity to kiss a little.

"I can't wait for tonight."

"Why?' I asked.

"Consummation," she whispered.

"But we promised..."

Dad turned to look at us, as if he could hear us whisper, then turned back and spoke to the lady.

"Good morning, I have reservations for a couple rooms for Laine. May I use your phone? Thanks."

"Good morning Reverend, this is Mike Laine. Thank you, everything has gone well, so well that we're here early. I wonder if we might move up the time. Excellent, thanks. We'll be in the lobby restaurant. Thank you again."

He thanked the young woman and gave her back the phone.

"Okay lovebirds." We turned to listen but left an arm around each other's waist. "We weren't scheduled until two, but we'll try to do it earlier. Why don't you find us a table in the restaurant? I'll join you in a couple minutes."

Jessie chose a table by the door, so she could watch people come and go. It had a white tablecloth, white cloth napkins, and a wineglass at each seat. The chairs were simple and comfortable, and the hardwood floor reflected everything.

A waitress glided up and asked, "Good morning, folks. Just the two of you?" She set down a pair of water glasses, each with a slice of lemon on the rim.

She glanced at our faces, lingering on mine a moment, and removed the wine glasses. "What can I get you to drink?" I replied that we had two others joining us and ordered two sodas and two cups of coffee.

"Okay, well, I'm Tammy, and..." She bent down. "Excuse me, Honey, may I see your ring? Ooo, Honey, that's so pretty! That's not a diamond, is it?"

Embarrassed but loving the attention, Jessie said, "Yes, Ma'am. It was my Mom's, but now it's mine." Excited to finally show it off to someone, she held out her hand.

"Oh, Honey, does that mean you're engaged?" Jess nodded shyly. "To this handsome man, here? Congratulations, Hon. Oh, but you're both so young! Aren't you just the cutest pair! I think I'm gonna cry." With that, she swished away to get the drinks. The exchange left Jess all excited and giggly.

A moment later, the cook came out of the kitchen, and asked if she could see the ring, too. Still embarrassed but thrilled, Jessie held out the gem for her.

"That has got to be the most beautiful engagement ring I've ever seen," the lady said.

Tammy served the colas, Jess and I held hands. I thought about what she'd whispered.

"Jess, if--I mean when--we, um, eventually, uh, consummate... What if you got pregnant?"

"That's not going to happen."

"But what if it did? What would we do?"

"Seriously?"

"Dead serious."

"I don't know. I couldn't abort a baby we made. I just couldn't bear it. But we really couldn't keep it, could we?"

"No. You know we couldn't."

"So, I guess we'd have to give it up. But I'd want to meet the parents, make sure they'd be good ones."

"So, a private adoption, then?"

"I guess, if we had to..."

Dad came in.

"Good morning, Sir," Tammy chirped. "My, but your faces are so alike--you must be the father of the groom?"

"What can I say? I love them equally."

"That's so sweet! My dad-in-law never said that about me. You all are such a nice family. I'll give you a couple minutes to look over the menu."

The concierge came in and said something to Dad, then left. We looked at Dad expectantly.

"We can go upstairs in about an hour," he said.

"Where's Daniel?"

"Just getting a couple things ready."

It'd been hours since breakfast at home, but I wasn't hungry. Jessie said she couldn't eat, either. Dad ordered us waffles anyway--he knew they'd be hard for us to resist. They smelled so good that we both gave in and ate at least half.

"Good," Dad said. "I don't want you passing out from hunger."

We chatted and laughed about the clerk at the records office. I asked Dad if he'd had any other tricks up his sleeve. He admitted he'd contacted a lawyer, a local family law expert, to be available if needed.

"He's fishing buddies with the Director of Deeds."

"Dad," I said, concerned. "You must be spending thousands of dollars on all this. Can we afford it?"

"Cory, don't be crass. Today isn't the day to talk about money. Yes, we can afford it."

"Daddy? What was in that envelope that changed her mind?"

"See for yourself," he said, reaching into his case.

I couldn't see it well enough, and rather than wait my turn I asked her to read it to me.

"To the Office of the Registrar, State of Colorado from Daniel C. Franks, Colorado Appellate Court, Ret., Re: Marriage License, C M Laine and J P Laine.

"At the request of the parties, I'm writing to express my opinion on the issuance of a marriage license to Cory Mikael Laine and Jessica Pearl Laine. My interest in this matter is to dispel any confusion and to preempt any hesitation in the issuance of the license.

"My reference in this matter is Colorado Supreme Court case Israel v Allen, in which a couple was denied a license to marry by the county clerk. The Court upheld the lower court's finding that the clerk's denial was in error. This ground having been trod before, I hope to save all parties any unnecessary steps.

"In Israel, the Court ruled that the State had no overriding reason to deny the marriage of an adopted brother and sister. Among the circumstances cited in favor of the union, one, there was no blood relationship between the parties. Two, they had not been raised as siblings from infancy. Three, the couple had the approval and support of their parents. And four, all parties were agreed that the union would not disrupt family harmony, but would, in fact, enhance it.

"There are two notable differences between Israel and the Laines. The first is that the Laines are both minors. However, because they are each sixteen and have parental consent, state law does not prohibit them from marrying.

"The other difference in the case before us is that the mother is deceased, so the father must give sole consent for both parties. This fact has no bearing, since each parent granted consent to both children in Israel. The rights of the father cannot be abridged by the absence of a spouse.

"Finally, because the Laines are minors, it should be noted that there are no allegations or evidence that the Laines have engaged in physical relations, so this is purely a civil matter. Once the ceremony has been completed, the couple's marital status obviates any age-related criminal prohibitions."

"That's a little embarrassing."

"Mmm," she agreed. "But it answers one of the questions I had." Jessie read on, unfazed.

"Because all pertinent circumstances are present in both cases, it is my opinion that any challenge to the Laines' right to marry would be summarily dismissed, and that the license should be issued without delay. DCF."

I grinned ear to ear. "Thank you, Daniel!"

"The Judge didn't mention that those kids didn't even meet until they were thirteen and eighteen," Dad said, "but I guess the principle is the same."

"Dad? Who did the service when you and Mom got married?"

"Father John."

"Yeah, I thought so. Who's going to do ours?"

"His name's Al Dulton. The Judge knows him. He's going to want to talk with each of you before the ceremony and ask you some questions to get to know you."

"Does he know about everything?"

Dad finished his coffee. "Yes, the Judge filled him in."

"And he's okay with it?" I asked.

"Apparently."

The plates were cleared, and the bill paid when Daniel came to our table. "We're ready for you folks."

Daniel motioned me to follow him and led me to one of the hotel rooms. Inside, a black tuxedo was laid out on the bed.

"Here, I'll show ya how this works." He motioned for me to remove my shirt, which felt very peculiar. He held up the white shirt for me as I put it on. Instead of buttons, the shirt closed with gold and black studs. He showed me how to push them through the dual buttonholes. Matching cufflinks closed the sleeves. The pants looked heavy and scratchy but turned out to be just the opposite.

"I've never worn a tux," I said. He helped me adjust the waistband on the pants.

"You'll look spiffy, kid. Here, I gotcha some matchin' socks." Even those were soft.

"This is a cummerbund, a sash that goes 'round yer waist. It's not required, but I recommend it. Yes? Good. Let me fasten it for you. Now the jacket." Again, he held the garment as I slid my hands down the satin-lined sleeves. He straightened the collar.

I looked in the mirror on the back of the hotel room door and could barely recognize myself. I had gained two years or more. I looked amazing. "Wow."

"Nice, ain't it? Here's the last piece, the bowtie." I couldn't imagine wearing a bowtie. The only person I knew who wore a bowtie was ninety years old. Mr. Beckham at church, always wore the same skinny yellow one with red dots. But once in place it looked very good. The black satin matched the lapel edges and pant stripes.

"Now what?" I asked.

"Now we wait." I looked at him quizzically. "The missus is helping yer bride, but sometimes it takes a young lady longer. You may wanna to take off the jacket and relax."

"My bride. Wow."

"And soon your wife." That sounded so strange. "So, tell me, how'd you talk yer Dad inta this?"

I told Daniel all about the fight, and what we talked about afterwards.

"Sounds like you learned a little somethin' 'bout arguing a case."

"I had a good teacher."

"I think ya sealed it when you told him you were gonna do it with or without his say-so. That was mighty gutsy."

"Do you think he's really okay with this, Daniel? I mean, he set this all up, but the look on his face when I kissed Jessie downstairs... He seems really uncomfortable."

"Well, kid, he kinda got blindsided, an' I think he's kinda feelin' boxed in. Yer right, he ain't real happy 'bout it now, but he'll be okay."

# Chapter 57

There was a knock at the door. Daniel opened it saying, "Hi Al, please come in." Then to me, "I'll wait in the hall."

The Minister extended his hand. "Hello, Cory, my name is Reverend Dulton. I'll be performing the ceremony." I shook his hand. "I need to ask you a few questions first, if that's okay."

"Sure." He sat in the room's desk chair and I sat on the end of the bed. "What would you like to know?"

"Well, first I want to reassure you, I know about your unusual situation, and have no objection on principle. I talked to Jessie, and I'll ask you the same things as I asked her. There's no right or wrong answer. If you don't know, it's just something you need to discuss together."

"Oh, okay. Go ahead."

"You're both so young. Can you tell me why you feel the need to marry now, and not wait for a few years?"

Crap. First question and I was already stumped. I didn't want to lie, but I wasn't sure if I should tell him about Amanda and everything, either. I fidgeted.

"Cory?" he said kindly, "Is Jessie pregnant?"

Oh, that's what he thought? "No!" Wait. He'd talked to Jessie. "Is that what she told you?"

He looked embarrassed. "No, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that. It's a question I ask all young couples."

"Oh, okay. No, we're in no hurry to start a family."

"So, you've talked about having children?"

"We've agreed to hold off at least until we're out of college."

"Oh, good, you've discussed education, too. Are you both planning for college?"

"Definitely."

"I'm glad. Teen marriages often result in low education and income."

"So, what did she say about getting married young?"

"She said you had chosen each other as children, and that the love has just gotten stronger."

"That's true," I said, smiling and relieved. "Now feels right. Some things you just know in your heart. Like faith, I guess." I was pandering, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Your father seems supportive. That's good. Usually parents are not so pleased at your age."

"Honestly? I'm not sure he's that thrilled, but he agrees that it's best."

"It's unusual that your last names are the same. I think this is only the second time that's happened in my experience." I hadn't thought about that. Did he really know we were legally related? If not right then, he'd see it on the marriage license. Would he still sign it? Oh God! Did he suspect something? I held my breath.

"I assume that neither of you plan to change it?" he said with a chuckle.

Whew. I just nodded and slowly let the air out of my lungs.

"I know that you and Jessie grew up together and go to the same church. That eliminates a lot of the challenges that many couples face. Cory, how do you feel about marrying Jessie today? Are you hesitant, scared, or nervous?"

"Way excited," I grinned.

"Do you have any reservations or worries about this commitment?"

I shook my head. "None. I just hope I can be, you know, the husband she deserves."

"Is there anything that you'd consider a deal-breaker for the marriage, such as violence, infidelity, or some other betrayal?"

"The only thing I can imagine is if staying married to me made her unhappy. If she wanted to leave, it'd break my heart, but I'd let her go. I'd do anything for her, even that."

He smiled. "That's good, but don't let her go too easily, okay? Do you know how you'll handle money, like debts, joint accounts, spending and saving?"

"Right now, we're still in school, of course. Dad provides for us. We take care of the day-to-day finances, so we're used to that. We have no debts except the mortgage, and we share our spending money. We have a college fund from some insurance we got. The other things? We'll have to work it out as we go. Like most people, I guess."

"What happens when you fight?"

"The couple times that happened..." I was going to say that she cleaned my clock, but I didn't want him to think she was physically abusive. "We just had to be honest about how we felt, and it worked out fine."

"Do you ever feel jealous or defensive with each other?"

"I don't think she does, but I used to be jealous. I'm consciously working on that."

"Do you keep secrets from her?"

My heart stopped. What could I answer? "I have... That's something I need to work on."

He studied my face like Dad did sometimes. "Do you tell her lies?"

"I, I, well, yeah. Yeah, I have. I guess I need to make that right, huh?"

"Sometimes it's hard to be honest, especially if you think the truth might hurt the one you love. In the end, though, it's best to say how you really feel. You have to trust and feel safe with one another. Along those lines, can you talk about your needs and preferences with Jessie, emotionally and sexually?"

I was more than a little embarrassed. That wasn't a question I expected from a Minister.

"We had some miscommunication for a while, but we learned from that." He was quiet. I hadn't really answered his question. "The other stuff... Uh, we haven't, yet, sex I mean, so... I think we'll be okay talking when we get to it."

He held up his hand. "Remember, there's no right or wrong answers. It's just something that you two need to be able to talk about together."

"Oh yeah, okay. Good."

"How about some of the daily things that everybody has to work out? Chores, cooking, that sort of thing."

"We share all the chores."

"How do you feel about each other's friends? Do you have your own social circles? Are there any friends who aren't a good influence?"

"No, they're all basically good kids. We have separate friends, but everybody knows each other and gets along."

"Do you have your own interests, or do you tend to do everything together?"

"I like reading and drawing and playing guitar. She's more into martial arts and socializing."

"It sounds like you're more introverted and she's more extroverted. Has that ever been a problem between you?"

"Not that I can think of."

"If you could change one thing about Jessie, what would it be?"

That was a tough one, and I thought hard. "Dad says that a relationship isn't like a cafeteria, where you can just pick the things you want. He says it's more like a banquet where you have to enjoy it as it is."

His face indicated that he didn't like the metaphor.

"You have to love the whole package, and I love Jessie for exactly who she is."

"Really? There's not a single thing you'd change?"

"I guess... She's so beautiful, you know? But I think sometimes she doesn't like the way she looks. I wish she could see herself through my eyes."

He smiled. "That's a very loving wish. I'm sure you'll remind her often. She said the same about you."

"I must have a face only she could love."

The man rested his hand on my shoulder and looked right into my eyes.

"She loves you partially because of your scars, Cory, not in spite of them."

"Really?"

He nodded. "They remind her how brave and loving you are."

Great. How could I ever tell her the truth?

"Cory, what is the most important thing you know about being married?"

I thought that might be hard to answer, but it just popped out. "That it's not about me." The Reverend looked surprised and pleased. "That's what Jessie told me."

He looked up, as if checking to see if there were any more questions on the ceiling. Apparently satisfied, he said, "I think you two are going to be fine. I'll be very happy to perform the wedding. Do you have anything you'd like to ask me?"

"So, you really think we'll be okay?"

"You're both mature for your age, and have a lot going in your favor. But listen, Cory, you have to trust her. With everything, even the stuff that scares you to tell. Maybe especially that. No more secrets, no more lies. She accepts you for who you are, but she can't do that fully unless you're honest with her."

That stung a little.

"Would you like me to pray with you?"

"Not out loud, but you're welcome to sit with me. I have a lot of thanking to do."

After a few minutes, he asked, "Do you have any questions about the service?"

"Oh, yeah! There's a verse I'd like you to read--Corinthians, uh, chapter thirteen, I think."

"I know the one. Always a good choice."

We sat quietly while my brain spun. A vacuum next door rumbled back and forth. Daniel knocked softly on the door and opened it from the outside.

"They're ready."

"One last thing, Cory." The Reverend turned to me as we stood, "A wedding is a celebration of a couple's love, public vows expressing a private commitment. The wedding is almost nothing. The marriage is everything."

As the three of us walked to the hall, I asked, "Daniel? How long have you been married?"

"Not nearly long enough, kid. Not even close."

Daniel led us into a large room, where familiar faces waited, James and Paul from the ranch. I shook hands with the guys. Classical music played on a portable stereo. Daniel introduced me to the minister's wife, Holly, who would be our photographer.

Dad arrived in a matching tux.

"Dad! You look awesome!"

"Looking pretty sharp, yourself. Stand over here next to me." The camera went click-click-click. Daniel and Reverend Dulton joined us. Dad said, "Okay, Cory, wait right here."

Dad walked the length of the room and opened the far door. Jessie stepped in wearing an elegantly simple white dress. Her hair was done up with ribbons, and she carried a small bouquet of lavender roses. Gems glinted on her hand, neck, and ears.

I gasped and felt my heart melt into my shiny, black shoes.

Grace followed her in and pushed a button on the cassette player, and the music turned to the wedding march. Grace walked slowly up and stood to Dulton's right.

Dad took Jessie's hand and they walked toward me, step by slow step. When he reached the Reverend and me, Dad leaned over and kissed Jessie's cheek. Abandoning decorum, she flung her arms around him and held him tight. After a long minute, she released him and just said, "Thank you, Daddy, thank so much."

Then she turned back to me with eyes of wonder. Dad took her hand again and placed it in mine. His face was grim, but for me this reality was better than any dream. The music faded, and the Minister spoke.

"Dearly beloved, we gather here to celebrate the joining of Cory and Jessie in the unity of marriage. Will you please face each other and join hands?"

We stared into each other's eyes.

"Cory? Jessie? These are the hands of your best friend, strong and full of love for you as you promise to love each other today, tomorrow, and forever.

"These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years, and with the slightest touch, will comfort you like no other.

"These are the hands that will give you strength when you need it as you build your future together.

"And these are the hands that, even when wrinkled and aged, will still be reaching for yours, still giving the same unspoken tenderness with just a touch.

"Lord, we gather this day to give thanks for the love you have shared with these two young people. We ask that you help Jessie and Cory to always remember this day, and to work this love into practical things, so that nothing can divide them. Please help them find words both kind and loving, and hearts always ready to ask forgiveness as well as able to forgive.

"The union of these two souls..." I had a hard time hearing his words over the brilliant circus that flowed inside me. I couldn't take my eyes off... My bride. Bride. It sounded unreal, even in my head.

"Love is patient, love is kind. Love is not jealous." No, no need to be jealous any more.

"...rejoices with the truth, bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." She takes the breath from me. I would, I can, do anything. I could move mountains. I stood tall, with no slouch or fidgeting.

"Love never fails." The picture of us on the couch, but now we're truly aged. Eternity. I'm not sure I believe in it, but I hope... Jessie's eyes fixed on me in awe. She looked at the Minister, then back at me. I think she had trouble hearing as well.

"Now faith, hope, love, abide these three, but the greatest of these is love." Yes, yes that's true. "I'll read the vows, and you can repeat after me. I, Cory, take you Jessie..."

"May we say them together, please?" I asked.

"Of course. I..."

We were already ahead of him. Watching her lips to match the words as exactly as I could, we said to one another, "I, Cory, take you Jessie, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish, always and forever, I pledge to you my faithfulness. I do."

Apparently not accustomed to being upstaged, the Reverend asked, "May I go on, now?" We grinned at each other. "The rings, please?" I had a moment of panic. We had no rings! Would we still be married if we forgot the rings?

I needn't have worried. I felt Daniel's hand press a gold band into my palm. Mom's ring, I knew without looking. "With this ring, I thee wed."

I repeated the words, and placed the ring on her hand, next to the little diamond. Jessie gaped at it, awed by the gift.

Then she looked around as if lost, suffering the same panic I'd felt. Dad took her hand, slid the wedding band from his finger, and placed it in her palm. We both stared in astonishment.

"With this ring..." The minister said, but Jessie stood transfixed. "With this ring," he repeated.

She looked at Dad, who smiled, as if the cares of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Her hands trembled as she put it on my hand. "With this ring, I thee wed," she whispered. It was still warm. It amazed me to see it there, and to feel its heft. It felt a little loose, but I was amazed that it fit at all.

"You have pledged your faithfulness each to the other before God and have declared the same by joining hands and by giving and receiving rings in the presence of these witnesses. I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

I didn't have a chance. Jessie grabbed my head with both hands and kissed me hard on the lips. All my senses returned. The stereo played the recession. The camera clicked, and I realized that it'd never really stopped, I just stopped hearing it. Jess let go at last and with a jubilant whoop, threw herself into Dad's arms.

The minister shook my hand, Grace kissed my cheek, and Dad shook my hand and said "Congratulations, Son." Jessie was hugging me, I was hugging Dad, and Daniel clasped me on the shoulder. They took more pictures, the stereo played party music, and I was kissing Jessie again.

We shared a combination birthday and wedding cake. Jessie and I fed each other a piece, but nicely--we didn't cram it like some people do. Dulton signed the license. And then I was kissing Jessie again. Good icing on the cake.

We said goodbye to James and Paul. In the hallway, Dad handed an envelope to the Minister. The Franks accompanied Jessie and me back to our rooms where we changed our clothes. I thanked Daniel for the hundredth time and we wished each other the best. Jessie appeared, without ribbons. Dad handed me a garment bag, which I slung over my shoulder. We walked together into the lobby.

Instead of walking to the door as I expected, we sat at a small table.

"Jessie, the necklace and earrings are yours to keep." Jessie started to say something, but he cut her off.

"You're welcome. And yes, they're small, but real." He opened the briefcase, brought out two small, wrapped boxes, and set them in front of us. "These are your public birthday gifts, ones you can show your friends."

Jessie tore hers open. It was a jewelry box, and inside was a gold necklace. She tried to pick the object up, but it slithered out of her hand. She tried again and succeeded. "Oh, thank you, Daddy! It's so beautiful!"

I held out my hand, asking to see it. The piece's disproportionate mass surprised me. Definitely solid gold, and not cheap--Dad had really gone all out today. I was fascinated by how the hundreds of tiny metal pieces could fit together to make something so slinky and animated. I poured the gift into her palm.

I opened my box to find another chain, masculine--a little shorter and much heavier. I stared at it, saying, "Dad, really this's too much." On the clasp were the characters A&F. Always and forever. Jessie held out her hand and I could tell she was startled by the weight, too. "I'm blown away. Thank you, Dad."

"You are both very welcome." He looked a little sad. "Now, I have to ask the two of you to do something difficult. Please take off your rings." He was right. I had no idea how agonizing that gesture would be, but I grudgingly complied.

"Cory, I want you to put Jessie's rings on her chain, as if it's her finger."

I saw what he meant. I threaded the chain through Mom's--Jessie's--rings. I carefully fastened the chain around her neck.

"Jessie, this has no less meaning here than it did on your hand."

She did the same with Dad's--my--ring. "This has no less meaning here than it did on your finger." She kissed me, and then turned to face Dad. "You must've been the most wonderful husband on earth."

"I had my moments, I guess."

"What do we tell our friends about these?" she asked, marveling at the pendants.

"Just tell them the truth, that they used to belong to your parents. Any further questions would be rude."

"I didn't get a chance to even ask, Dad. Are you sure this's okay? You've worn it so long."

"Son, for the last three years, every time I saw it, it made me sad. Now every time I see it, it'll make me happy. That part is a gift to myself. Besides, if you guys can start a new life, so can I."

"You can still see where it made a dent in your finger," Jessie noticed.

"That will fade eventually, just like pain does."

We all stood up and hugged each other. I held Jessie's rings to see them once more and saw that on the inside the band was engraved "A&F".

I showed her, and she looked at mine, pointing out the same inscription. Dad put the wrapping paper and empty jewelry boxes in the trash. "I don't think you'll ever need those again."

I grabbed the garment bag and we walked toward the door. Dad asked the doorman to call up a cab. Once on the road, Jessie asked, "Dad, how could you set all this up so fast? Like, overnight?" He chuckled deeply, pleased with himself.

"And what about the dress? It fit beautifully! I wish I could've kept it, even if I couldn't show it off."

"That was easy. I told Beth I needed a birthday surprise and had to know what size to look for."

"No, I mean it was so perfect--just what I dreamed of, maybe better. How could you know?"

"Remember talking about the dresses while we looked through those photo albums? I faxed the picture of your great-grandma to Mrs. Franks and she found one like it at a bridal shop here in town. Oh, and wish granted," he said nodding at the garment bag.

"Uh, Dad, won't people see us driving home from the airport?"

"Oh, I figure we'll get in about six-thirty. It'll be dark. I guess there's a chance someone might recognize the truck heading out the service drive, around the comer... But probably not. We'll already be on the south side, so we can drive down to get some good burgers at the Lighthouse. It'll look like we just came from home."

"Okay," Jessie said, "but I'm not sitting under that ripsaw on the wall--it's like the sword of Damocles."

"Besides," he said, "there are usually some folks from town there--it's a good place to be seen. Then we go home from there."

I could only shake my head. He told me once that he was never a Boy Scout. It was a shame, because he sure was prepared.

"I mean, for your birthday, even if you still aren't feeling better."

We looked at him curiously.

"You're home sick, remember? So, don't look too good--I'm keeping you out of school this week."

Lester was ready for us, but this time we had to wait our turn to take off. Once in the air, we unfastened our seatbelts, and Jessie curled up in my lap, where she dozed on and off. Dad and I just sat peacefully. Occasionally our eyes met, and we smiled.

"Dad?" I asked. "I know there were other options. Thank you for choosing this one."

"This was the only one that made sense."

When we deplaned, Dad handed an envelope to Lester.

"A pleasure," he said. "I'm glad you folks had a nice trip. Have a good evening, Mr. Laine. G'night, kids."

We pulled out of the Esky airport in the dark, holding hands in the back seat. Jess hugged me and whispered into my ear. "I don't care what we promised. Tonight's for us."

That gave me a chill.

Dinner was good. Jess and I both had our appetites back. On the way out of the restaurant, I almost messed up and kissed her. This was going to be challenging. In the parking lot, she had the same urge and leaned toward me.

"Sis? What are you doing? Yuck."

At first, she looked hurt, and then she slapped her forehead. "You're right. But I think it'll probably be safe in a moving pick-up in the dark of the night." She looked to Dad for a sign.

"It's totally up to you guys now. For what it's worth, I agree with Cory--a dangerous habit with so much at stake."

"Let's fly back to the other place," Jessie pouted. "I like the rules there better."

"Let's save that discussion for tomorrow," he replied."

When we got back to the house, Mylar balloons tied to the handrail shuddered in the chilly breeze. I unlatched the storm door and saw a lined yellow page taped up inside. Several cards stood propped up inside against the front door. Jessie scooped up the deliveries and we stumbled into the house. I read the note out loud.

"Hi, guys, you still weren't at school today, so we brought you a birthday party, with cake and everything. It was delicious. Hope you're not at St. Francis, just out celebrating. Beth and the gang. Call me!"

"It's almost eight. Do you think we should call?"

"And say what? That we were out celebrating, but still won't be in school tomorrow?" I asked.

Dad was on top of it as always. "Call Beth first, then anyone else who'd be offended if you didn't. Make sure you call the best gossip, too. Tell them you were at the UMC." The University Medical Center was nearby, but most people went to St. Francis.

"They don't have to know it means Undisclosed Marriage City. Tell them not to expect you tomorrow. If they want more info, tell them you can't talk now. We'll figure out the next steps in the morning. Go ahead, before it gets too late."

# Chapter 58

As promised, Jessie and I slept in our own beds that night. There was, however, an hour or so when we weren't asleep, and for that time, Jessie shared my room.

She slipped off her gown and stood in the moonlight. The sight of her sucked the breath from my body. She slid in beside me like when we were kids, but now it was so different. The perfume of her hair, the electric touch of skin. We shared hungry kisses, our hands wandered and lingered until our breath came quick and shallow.

"I love you, Jess," I whispered.

"I love you, too."

I could taste her breath on my tongue.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" I asked.

"Are you asking for my consent?" she teased. "Then you have to tell me exactly what I'm consenting to."

"You want me to say it out loud?" She nodded. I felt my face turn hot, but I leaned close and spoke the words softly in her ear.

"Yes to that," she whispered.

"Now your turn," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you think you should have my consent, too?"

She grinned. "Oh, you mean like I want to..." She whispered in very explicit and earthy terms exactly what she had in mind. My heart banged fast and hard against my ribs.

"Yeah, I'm definitely okay with that. Um, is there anything I need to know, like scar tissue from... before? I just don't want to hurt you."

"No, but yeah, I'm nervous that it might hurt. It was so awful as a kid--I'm a little scared."

"It's okay, Jess. We don't have to do this."

"No, I want to. Really. Just be generous with the gel and let me take it slow. I'll try to relax"

"Okay, but promise to stop if it's uncomfortable."

"Yeah, okay."

I opened the bedside drawer and got a condom. My hands trembled.

"Not tonight. Just this once," she whispered.

"We didn't talk about this."

"I know, but please, I don't want anything between us the first time."

"Hmm, tempting. But what if your shot doesn't work?" I asked.

"I don't know, but that's not going to happen."

"Probably not... But Jess..."

"Please?"

"Maybe we aren't ready for this." I said.

"What do you mean?"

"If we can't do it right, maybe we should, you know, work up to it."

"I don't want to wait any more," she pleaded.

"Me either, but I'll just worry about it--I don't want that between us, either."

"Oh, okay, I guess. Come on, then. Don't just sit there."

I tore open the package, just as I had practiced so many times before.

"Let me," she said. I watched closely, making sure she did it right. She did, and I wondered how she'd learned exactly what to do. Maybe Dad? And bananas? That was hard to picture...

She pushed me back on the mattress and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and settled hesitantly. Just a little. Then a little more. The warmth of being surrounded by her was more intimate than I could have imagined, so warm and alive. I rested my hands on her hips as she moved. I began to move with her.

Everything else in the world faded away until there was only the two of us. I never wanted that feeling to end, so I tried to relax, to make it last. But it built too quickly, and I couldn't hold back. My muscles twitched and quivered. My brain shattered, I couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

"Shhh, be quiet. Nice, huh?" she whispered. She bent down, and we held each other, lying still, panting as aftershocks rippled through me. We lay joined like that for a little bit, and then she stretched out beside me with her eyes closed.

I didn't know if she was relaxing or waiting for me to do something. When I couldn't stand it anymore, I asked, "What do we do now?"

"Sorry," she whispered. "I thought you were resting. Is there something you want to do?"

"Like, maybe I should get rid of this thing and wash up?"

"Relax, leave it be. Give me your hand. This will be a little like playing guitar..."

She showed me what to do for her. As I fumbled, she patiently talked me through it. I couldn't get the spot right at first, and she was getting frustrated and tender. But then it clicked, and her reaction made me sure we'd wake Dad. Afterwards, we held one another.

"That was incredible," she whispered, kissing my face. "It never felt like that before."

"What do you mean? You've never..."

"I thought so, but... Like firecrackers. I thought that's all there was." She smiled with her whole face. "That, my lover, was dynamite."

I beamed to be called her lover, and to think of her pleasure.

"It's totally different with another person," she said. "It's like how you can't tickle yourself."

"Same here. A whole different experience."

"That was fun," she giggled.

"Hush. Here, pass me a couple tissues. I'm sorry I couldn't last longer..."

"Oh, Sweetie, I didn't expect you to. I think that just takes practice. You were fine." Giggling again, "You sure seemed to enjoy it."

"Shhh! So, it was okay for you? Really?"

"Way okay." She gave me another salty, giddy kiss.

"No pain?"

"A couple little muscle spasms, that's all," she said. "I just had to relax."

"Oh. I didn't know what those were."

"I'm glad we didn't spend the whole night alone. It wouldn't have been right," she breathed.

"I'm glad we finally got it out of the way."

"Really?" she whispered. "I was looking forward to it. Was it a chore?"

"No, but I've wanted this so bad for so long, you know? It was kind of a burden, and now I feel so much lighter."

"Interesting. I wonder how much virginity weighs?" She stroked my hair. "I'm sorry I pressured you earlier. It seemed to make sense at the time."

"Thanks for understanding. If you had asked one more time I probably would've given in. We have to help each other, and I would've felt like I was weak."

She sniggered. "I could use a lot of words, but weak wouldn't be one of them." She struggled to be quiet as the fit of laughter passed. She fanned her face with her hand.

"Jessie, I could hold you like this, always and forever, but it'll be better if we at least wake up in our own beds. Dad will probably know, but I doubt he'll mention it. I feel bad about it that way. It sucks to have to sneak around with your spouse."

"Spouse, huh? I like that." She shifted, but then settled back next to me. "I can't leave you yet. Just five more minutes, okay?"

"Okay."

It took her much longer before she forced herself to sit up.

"Goodnight, husband, I love you."

"I love you, too, wife. Sweet dreams."

# Chapter 59--Wed. Dec. 14

The aroma of the fresh coffee wafted down the hall. In the kitchen, the burner hissed, and the percolator bubbled and burped.

"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Laine." Dad was amusing himself, but I loved the way that phrase sounded. Then, in a very different tone, he said, "I owe you two an apology."

"I doubt it," Jessie said. "For what?"

"I made an inappropriate request on the trip yesterday. Cory was right. It was an unfair thing to expect, and I regret it. I don't know--and I really don't want to know--if you, uh, gave it any heed. Thank you for humoring an old man by getting up separately this morning. That's not something I'll expect in the future."

"Daddy, we..."

He held up both hands. "Did I mention that I really don't want to know?"

"I was going to say that we love you, and that we know this can't be easy for you. Thanks for being so gracious. We'll do the best we can to make it easier." She hugged him.

I gave him a hug, too, and I couldn't resist giving him a wink. I thought he might wink back, but instead he just grimaced. I guess he really didn't want to know.

Over brunch, the three of us talked about the trip, and we thanked him again. I asked if it was still crass to talk about what a huge expense it had been.

He got a crooked little smile on his face. "Are you ready for another little family secret?"

"I'm not," Jess groaned.

"Oh, come on Jess. They've worked out pretty well so far, haven't they?"

"I guess. Okay, Dad. Lay it on us."

"Remember how I told you about Grandma Sophie and the Captain?"

"Yeah, she whacked him, but didn't get her hands on his money." Jessie said wickedly.

"The first, possibly, the second, definitely. I told you that he gave it away to an unnamed beneficiary, right?"

"Right, but nobody knew who."

"I didn't say nobody knew. Just a very few, and I'm one of the only two still living. Would you like to know, too?"

"Sure, who was it?" I asked.

"His two-year-old daughter, Emma."

Jessie leaned forward. "Mom? He gave the fortune to Mom?"

"Not directly. He had a close friend, a lawyer, and they created a trust. The money was invested and could only be paid out when the little girl turned twenty-one or got married, whichever came first."

"My brains aren't working," I said. "Which came first?"

"Mom turned twenty-one. We got married the next year."

"So, she was rich?"

"The lawyer went to her apartment. By then he was very old, and he brought his granddaughter, who had just graduated law school. Mom was her first client. Mom worried that Grandma Sophie might still try to get the money.

"Mom told them that she didn't need it--she was happy with what she had, and that she didn't want get dragged through court for years. So, she set a new release condition. It wouldn't be paid until Grandma Sophie died."

"That's stupid. What if Grandma lived to a hundred years old?"

Dad laughed. "Grandma Sophie lived a rough life. Even back then, she'd already been in bar fights, spent a year in prison, and crashed her Harley. She got shot once, too, later on. But it was the drugs and the booze that Mom thought would get her first. I'm still amazed she made it to fifty-seven."

"Hold the story a minute," Jessie said. "Your dad was an alcoholic, right? And Grampa Joe's one, or at least spends a lot of days drunk. No wonder you had problems! And now you tell us that Grandma Sophie was addicted, too? That puts Cory at a high risk."

"You're right. Cory needs to be careful about alcohol. Best if you stay away from it altogether, Son. But you know I've had other problems, too."

"Like what?"

"Clinical depression. That's why I take pills every day. It keeps it manageable."

"Oh." Jessie looked alarmed. She knew about clinical depression. Staci's older brother had it, and he killed himself last Christmas. "You aren't going to kill yourself, are you Daddy?"

He chuckled. "No hon. I have far too much to live for. That's why I'm good about taking the pills. I don't want to leave you two a day sooner than I have to. It's preventive, just like my cholesterol medication. It keeps my body--in this case my brain chemistry--working well."

She looked unconvinced.

"Really, Bug. I've had it for years, and nothing's happened. It's just something I need to be careful about."

"I take pills, too Jess. For anxiety. It's fine."

"I didn't know that. I assumed they were for your lungs. Huh. So anyway, you were saying how the money was locked up until Grandma died. What happened to it after that?"

"Mom died first, and the trust went to her heirs."

"Us? No way! So, we're rich?"

"Under the same conditions. Not until you turn twenty-one..."

For a few seconds all I could hear was the clock tick. Then Jessie said it. "...or we get married?"

"Is that true, Dad? Does the Captain's money finally get released?"

"Yes, Mrs. Peterson, our attorney, will be over later today. She's the old lawyer's granddaughter. She's handling some other things for the family, too."

"Daddy, does this mean that you don't get any of it?"

"Well that's true, but I think we'll have enough to share, if you're willing."

We couldn't sit still anymore, and danced around the table, and then into the living room, cheering all the way. A little nervous energy spent, we sat--or at least perched--on the edge of the sofa. Dad refilled his coffee and settled into his chair.

I couldn't contain my curiosity. "That's why you weren't worried about the plane and stuff. Would it be crass to ask how much we're getting?"

"No, it wouldn't, but I really have no idea. Apparently, it was big enough to fight about thirty years ago, and all the interest and dividends have been reinvested. It depends on how big it started and how it was managed."

"Dad?" Jessie paused, still forming the question. "Why didn't you tell us? Why'd you hide it?"

"It was a condition of the trust, to keep it a secret so Grandma wouldn't know. But I wouldn't have told you anyway. I had to make sure that... I still don't know if letting you kids get hitched was the best thing to do, but I needed to know why you wanted to. If I'd told you about the money, I wouldn't know for sure if you married just for love. And maybe you wouldn't have been sure, either."

"Dad, if it's enough, you won't have to work anymore," I said.

"Yeah." He nodded. "That'd be nice."

Jessie grinned. "If it's enough, maybe we could go back to Colorado. Then wouldn't have to hide. We could wear our rings and kiss in public. I'd like that. I'd like it a lot."

"Kiss in public like this?" I picked her up and spun her around. We almost chipped each other's teeth. Then I got dizzy, and we toppled gracelessly onto the couch.

Dad looked uncomfortable. "Good plan. I like it. But a lot depends on what Mrs. Peterson has to say."

# Chapter 60

"Jess?"

"Yeah?"

We lay face to face on my bed. She ran her fingers through my fine hair.

"Do you think we'll ever argue?"

She frowned a little. "I doubt it."

"If we do, you'll probably win."

"I'd let you win sometimes."

"I just want to make you happy, Jess."

"You can't. We have to make ourselves happy."

"Yeah, that's what Dad says, too." I stroked her cheek. "Reverend Dulton asked me about children."

"Yeah, me too."

"Do you think you'll want kids someday?"

"With you? Of course." She smiled.

"Cool. Me, too. They'll be part of each of us. How many?"

"Good question." She looked at the ceiling. "Probably at least a couple. Like we talked about on the beach."

"Same here. Maybe three. One should be adopted."

She smiled at me. "I think I'd like that."

"Who do you think they'll look like?"

"I don't know, but they'll be beautiful."

I held silent for a moment as I worked up my courage. "He also asked if I kept any secrets from you."

"I guess we have kept secrets... But those are behind us now."

"Well, I need to, I mean there's a couple..."

"Go ahead, Sweetheart." She stroked my forehead. "Whatever it is, it's okay."

"I lied about Mom saving us. I thought it might help you and Dad to think of her that way."

"That's not a bad lie. They found her upstairs, so we knew it was you anyway. The truth just makes what you did more amazing."

"No, that's not it. I chose not to take her. I took you... She looked right at me, and I... I left her there to burn to death. I could have taken either one of you. I walked right over her."

"Cory, I think it was just instinct. You should have just run from the house, but you chose to try to save us.

"You chose to carry me instead of her. She was bigger than me, and you barely made it out alive anyway. If you 'd tried to take her, we'd all be dead. Probably including Dad by now if he'd lost all three of us. But you chose right. You risked your life to save mine, and suffered horribly as a result." She brushed my ugly cheek. "For that I'll always love you. Here's something else, though. You say she looked at you."

"Yeah."

"Did she blink?"

"What?"

Jessie put her hand on my arm. "Cory, look at me. Did she blink?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Even with all the smoke and soot? Did she cough?"

"No."

"Why wouldn't she blink or cough?"

"She stared at me..."

"Cory, Honey. She was already gone. The coroner said that she died from smoke inhalation."

"She was..."

"Gone. I tried to wake her up and she wouldn't move. It was too late. You couldn't have saved her. But you saved me. If you hadn't dragged me away, I don't know if I could've left her. You were my hero when we met, you were my hero that night, and you were my hero when you stood up to Dad. And you'll always be my hero. I thought you understood that."

"I'm your hero? But..."

"And every time I look at your face, it reminds me of your love and your courage."

"But don't you think I'm ugly?"

"No, I think you're beautiful. Do you think I'm ugly because of my scars?"

"Of course not. But they make me feel so guilty."

"Why?" She propped herself on one elbow.

"Ugh. There's something else I have to tell you, and I guess Dad, though I don't know if I have the guts. It's something much worse."

"Okay, go ahead."

I sat up and took a deep breath.

"I... I started the fire."

"What are you talking about?"

"I was using the kerosene heater in the garage." Tears brimmed in my eyes. "I broke the rules. I wasn't careful, and it started the fire that killed her." The years of guilt washed over me. It was easier when I hated Mom. Now I was defenseless.

"I killed Mom, I burned you, and just look what I did to Dad. It's... it's unforgivable."

Jessie got on her knees and wrapped her arms around me.

"Oh, Sweetie. Sweetie, no, that's wrong."

I tried to push her away, but she wouldn't let go.

"It's the truth. I'm the reason she died. I'm the one who gave you those scars. I'm the one who broke Dad's heart! It's all my fault." I convulsed with the agony of my shame.

"Oh, Cory, no." She stroked my hair. "Don't you remember?"

"I remember."

"The report, the investigation?"

"Huh?"

"Oh my God, you were still in the hospital. Dad never told you?"

I tried to get control of my breath. "What... What report?"

"It was an electrical fire. It started in the wall."

"But I was there..."

"It was faulty wiring. It began between the kitchen and garage, and it broke out in Mom and Dad's room. Did you think that it magically jumped to the second floor?"

"How would I know?"

"The fire department had to determine the source. You saw that huge settlement check we deposited at the credit union. That was from the company that made the wiring. Do you think they'd pay us anything if the heater started it?"

"Really? Are you serious?"

"Yeah. It knocked all the power out upstairs, so the smoke alarm didn't work." She pointed at my ceiling. "That's why the detectors here are battery-powered."

"It was the wiring?" I felt lightheaded.

"It wasn't your fault at all. In fact, if you'd gone to bed when we did, we'd all have died. It was just good luck that you happened to be right there, right then."

I couldn't believe this. "It wasn't my fault?"

"That's right."

"It wasn't my fault. Oh my God."

She drew me into her strong embrace. "Anything else you want to confess?"

"No. No, I think I'm good."

"That sure explains your nightmares! What an awful secret."

"You have no idea."

"Come on, let's tell Dad. He'll be so relieved. He's felt horrible about your bad dreams all this time."

"Yeah, okay."

# Chapter 61

Later in the afternoon, we heard noise outside. Almost a dozen kids from school stood in front of the house, waving.

"Cory, we can't let them in--we're supposed to be sick."

"I know--we'll make a sign." I grabbed a marker and some paper. "What do we write?"

"I'll write 'Can't come in,' and you write 'Still contagious,' okay?" We made the signs and held them up to the window. "Thank you for the cards!!!!!" with the thank you underlined.

Janna made a note that said, "Where were you?"

"Crap," I said. I was afraid they might ask. Jess put up a sign that just said "UMC." Oh, that's right, I thought. This exchange went on for a few minutes, and we could tell they were getting cold. "Go home + Warm up," Jess wrote.

Spaz and Jody held hands. She held up a sign that said, "We hope you feel better!"

We posted our last replies, "Thank you guys!" and "You're good friends."

Later, Jessie and I lay on her bed snuggling and smooching like a couple of newlyweds.

"Cory, I'm worried about Beth."

"Yeah, tomorrow's her appointment. It's going to be a hard day for her." I'd gotten over feeling angry at Beth and Dave for being irresponsible. There was no point. I just felt sad. "Does it hurt? Physically, I mean."

"Uh-huh," she said gloomily. "And the people from St. Ann's are still holding that prayer vigil thing in the parking lot."

"Ugh, the van with the billboard on the side? I hope they pray for the moms, too. Maybe we can go there tomorrow and create a diversion, so she and Dave can get in the building without being harassed."

"We can't. We're sick, remember? I'm going to call her." I handed Jess the phone.

"Hi, Beth? It's me. Me and Cory. We were thinking of you and hoping you were doing okay." She listened for a minute. "Good, I'm glad Dave's with you.

"I know you're scared, but everything will be okay. Yeah, of course. Look, I don't want to worry you, but we wanted to warn you what's going on at the clinic. Yeah, okay, so long as you know. Yeah, Father Neil will probably be there. Yeah, that's going to be hard. Okay. Right. Right. Uh-huh. I know. We love you guys, too. We'll talk to you tomorrow, afterward."

# Chapter 62

It was already dark when Mrs. Peterson drove up in a rented sedan. Dad let her in, took her coat, and introduced her.

"Kids, this is our family lawyer, Debbie Peterson. Debbie, this is... These are the kids. Thank you for dropping everything to fly here on such short notice."

"I was in New York and ended up flying back to Detroit a day early. Your timing's perfect."

"Would you like some coffee?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you Mike." She sat on the couch. "I'm really happy to meet you two. I feel like I've been connected to you my whole life. I met your Mom when she wasn't much older than you are now. She was a wonderful person, and I'm sorry that you lost her so young. On a happier note, I hear that congratulations are in order. I assume your father has explained why I'm here?"

We nodded.

"I suppose you're anxious to hear the details?"

"Actually," Jessie asked, "can you tell us about our Mom? What she was like? You're one of the only people alive who knew her then, one who might talk to us, I mean."

"Oh, well, of course. Aren't you sweet? Most people just want to hear about the money. Well, I only met her that one time. I was twenty-six and she'd just turned twenty-one the day before. My Grandfather was a lawyer and I had just started in his practice. We visited her at her apartment. It was small, but very clean. I remember that the only thing on the wall was a photograph of your dad as a teenager, held up with a pin.

"Your mom was a beautiful young woman, almost as beautiful as you, Jessie, but in her own way. She was wearing a uniform from the restaurant where she worked, and she was tired because she'd just gotten home from a long day. When we told her why we came, we thought she'd be excited, but she didn't seem to care much. She mostly asked my grandfather about her dad, the Captain, just like you're doing.

"She knew nothing about him. No one had ever told her, not even your Grandmother Sophia. Emma was fortunate that my grandfather knew Cornelius for many years. We stayed and the two of them talked for hours. When we finally had to go, she told us to keep the money safe. She said that she'd given up a son for adoption, and she wanted whatever there was for her child, or children if she ever had another.

"She said that Cornelius wouldn't want your grandmother to have a penny, and that she'd--and I quote--'Do without a dime as long as that bitch draws breath.' I'm sorry, Mike. That was probably inappropriate." Dad had come in with two mugs of coffee.

"Oh, no, Debbie, please don't apologize. When she recalled the story to me, she used considerably harsher language." He handed Debbie a mug.

"I'm sorry that I don't remember much of what my grandfather told her--it's been a long time. I only recall that he was born in Canada, in Wireton, I think, and that he worked his way up from a deck hand to the captain of an iron ore ship. I wish now that I'd thought to have my grandfather write to you about Cornelius and his life. He passed away almost ten years ago. I'm afraid that's about all I can tell you."

"We appreciate it, Debbie. Thank you," Jess said.

"Okay, then shall I tell you about your inheritance?" We all indicated our enthusiasm. She looked at her notes. "Jessie, your grandfather's estate was worth almost three hundred thousand dollars."

"That's a lot of money," Jessie breathed.

"Yes, it was a lot of money in 1953. It would be like having a million dollars today."

"He left us a million dollars? Wow!" She turned to Dad. "That means you won't have to work anymore!"

Debbie interrupted, saying, "Wait a minute Jessie. That was just a comparison. The principal was invested conservatively, and earned interest and dividends... It has accrued, built up, over the last thirty years, though inflation has eaten away at its value..."

"I'm confused," Jessie said. "How much is it right now?"

"Well, it isn't like a big pile of dollar bills. It's invested in several instruments. Many aren't liquid--immediately accessible. An exact current value is hard to determine, as the markets fluctuate every day." Debbie looked up to see three pair of expectant eyeballs.

"By my best estimate, just under two point eight million..."

Jessie let out a whoop. Dad looked so relieved that I thought he'd float right out of his chair.

"No wonder Grandma Sophie wanted it so bad!" I said.

Debbie moved to the kitchen table, where she examined a photocopy of our marriage license. I was worried that by marrying each other we might have messed up the trust.

"It's fine, Cory. Your father checked it out with me before the wedding. It's a very strange arrangement, but there's nothing that prohibits it."

We all signed dozens of papers. In between signings, we chatted excitedly about our plans.

Dad explained how it sounded like a lot, but it had to go a long way. "A lot of it will go to taxes. If we leave the principal alone, and live off the interest, it'll be several times what I make now. Things will be a lot easier, financially.

"But it's not living rich that's important, it's living well," he added. "It means that, yes, I can quit my job, and we can move wherever you want, Bug. Back where you can wear your rings on your hands, tell everyone you meet that you're married, and even smooch in public--within good taste, of course.

"I can home school you there and bring in the very best tutors. Or you can attend any public or prep school you'd like. Then you can attend any university you want. That'd make me very happy."

At last, Debbie was done.

"Now," she said, "nothing can actually happen until I receive the official copy of the marriage license. But I have your signatures on everything, so it can happen pretty fast after that."

"We can't thank you enough," I said.

"It's been a pleasure, Cory. Now, I have a little private business with your father. Could you give us a few minutes?"

# Chapter 63

We retreated to my room, where Jessie laid down on my bed.

"Come here, lover. I haven't had a decent kiss in an hour."

We lay close together and smooched, her fingers in my hair and my hand pressing the small of her back. "My God, how I love you, girl," I whispered into her ear.

"Ahhh, I like that! It makes me goosebumpy and dizzy. Do it again!" So, I did, of course.

"Oh yeah, that's good. Mmm. Here you try it."

I turned my head and felt her warm breath on my neck. That was nice. She kissed my earlobe. I don't know what possessed her do it--it wasn't something I'd have guessed would be exceptionally pleasant, but it curled my toes.

Then she put her lips right to my ear and whispered, "Oh, what I'm going to do to you tonight." It was a great sentiment, but sensory overload. I jerked away and shook my head like a wet dog.

"What? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, but the word in the ear thing doesn't do it for me. It's too intense to enjoy." She looked discouraged.

"I thought you'd like it, too. I'm sorry."

"You can't be sorry. This is new to me. I don't know what I like or what I don't yet. How the heck could you know? We'll just have to try everything and see what works, okay? We'll get to know each other."

"That makes sense." She giggled. "Can we try some stuff more than once?"

"Definitely. Like that earlobe thing? You can try that as often as you like. I'd never have thought that would feel so good."

"Oh, you like that? Excellent--let me try it again." And she did.

"Yeah, that's the spot, mmm." She tried several variations of the theme, and I told her whether it worked or not. Nibbling was right on the edge of too much, but just breathing in my ear was fine without words.

Eventually I got too sensitive and it was her turn. For her it was the neck--but just a few particular spots--that were sensitive. Just like me, there was stuff she liked and stuff she didn't.

"There are so many possibilities. This could take days, years."

"Decades I hope, Sis."

"I told you, I don't like that. I don't want to be your Sis or Sissy anymore."

"Hmm, fair enough. Please remind me if l forget--I've done it a long time, and it'll probably be hard to break the habit."

"If I remind you, will you think I'm nagging?"

I laughed. "I promise to listen to your heart. Jessie, you're so dear to me, I'd do anything for your pleasure. How can I be upset if you're helping me make you happy?"

She hugged me and kissed my cheek. "Wow, you really get it. Thank you."

"So that's another thing, just like an earlobe. Do you have any other pet names you hate?"

"Well, let's see. Dear--that'd be creepy. That's what Dad calls Mom. And not Bug, that's Dad's, too. I don't even like that when he uses it in front of other people. Other than those, nothing too cutesy, okay? Especially in public. Call me Honey-Muffin and I'll puke on you. Just try them out, and I'll let you know. How about you?"

"Me? Huh. I can't think of anything--you usually just call me Cory. I like that, though, lots. You can call me that anytime. Last night you called me sweetheart, or maybe sweetie. Those are good, but I love it when you say my name."

"Yeah," she cooed, "I like hearing you say my name, too." So, I did, in her ear, and kissed her one of those neck places. She shivered and snickered.

We lay on my quilt, whispering and giggling. My heart was light and free like never before--no shame or guilt, worry or anger, just pure joy.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Hey, lovebirds! Come and say goodbye to Mrs. Peterson."

We complied, a little grudgingly.

She asked if we had any questions, but neither of us could think of one.

"You will, I'm sure. Here is my business card. There's an eight-hundred number on it. Call it anytime night or day, and they'll get hold of me. I'll talk to you as soon as everything's official."

Dad shook her hand and we thanked her again. She walked out into the snow in her high heels. The headlights of the rental car shone through the living room window as she backed out onto the street.

"I'll be back in a sec." Jessie disappeared down the hall, presumably to the bathroom.

"Well, now. That was fun!" said Dad. His face smiled, but his eyes looked tired and sad. "Tomorrow we'll talk about moving and such. Tonight, there's one more..."

He was interrupted by a pair of headlights pulling into the driveway.

"She must've forgotten something."

# Chapter 64

He opened the door, his mouth already open to ask the question, but the words never came out. There at the door stood Amanda.

He didn't recognize her, but I waved her in. "Hi, Amanda!"

Dad offered to take her coat, but she dismissed him. The car idled in the driveway. "Your driver is welcome to come in, too."

She shook her head, which looked funny because her long, straight hair had been coiffed curly and short. "Thank you, Mr. Laine, but I can't stay long. Mom and I are moving downstate, and I had to beg her to stop as it is. I just wanted to thank Cory for what he did."

"Moving, eh?" Dad asked, "Is that a good thing?"

"It's the best we have right now," she said. "We can't stay in this town."

"Why?" I asked.

"We aren't welcome here anymore."

"But you didn't do anything wrong," I said.

"You wouldn't know that by the way people look at us, or the way people treat us. It's like we have leprosy. It's not fair, but that how it is. Besides, it'll be good to be somewhere my, um, personal problems haven't been local headlines."

"Yeah, I can understand that. How'd you know it was me?"

"Easy. You're the only one who took time to ask. I couldn't--tell--you, but you asked, and I gave you the clues." I nodded. "What about you, Cory? What made you able to see it?"

Jessie came back in from the bathroom. "Oh! Amanda! Look at you! I like your new haircut!"

Amanda smiled--the first time I'd ever seen that. Jessie sat down close to me on the couch and continued, "You look great. Doesn't she, Sweetheart?"

The smile vanished, and Amanda's eyes narrowed as the silence turned tense. She looked from Jessie to me, and back.

"What's going on here?" she demanded.

Too late, Jessie realized her error. She looked at Dad.

"You might as well explain," he said. Amada looked at us all suspiciously.

I figured that I had a stronger rapport, so I started. "Amanda, you can keep a secret, I know, so I'll trust you with ours. Jessie and I have been in love for years--romantically only, okay? Yesterday, we went out of state and got married. I pulled the ring from my shirt to show her. Jessie did the same.

"You married your sister?"

"She's adopted, so it's legal. Anybody can tell we aren't actually related."

She turned to Jessie and exclaimed. "You married your brother?" Jessie nodded.

"And you knew about it?" she shouted at Dad. "What's wrong with you people? Damn you, Cory, I see now why you picked up the clues so easy!" Veins bulged on her forehead, and saliva flew as she let loose with a vivid stream of profanity. We stared at her in disbelief.

"Yuck! Oh, and I suppose you've... Yuck! Oh, I can't believe it!" Her face turned bright red with rage. "You are slime! Your whole family's scum! And to think I came here to say thanks. You're as bad as... No, you're worse. You can all burn in hell, along with those three perverts!"

With that, she ran to the door, slamming it behind her so hard that the glass in the storm door shattered into long, jagged shards. We could hear her screaming even after the car door closed. The motor revved, and her mother swung the car onto the street, taking out the mailbox.

We stood by the door, stunned, watching the taillights disappear. Pieces of glass fell from the doorframe. Dad took a step finally and closed the front door. And locked it. And sat down in his chair.

I sat near him on the couch, and Jessie laid her head in my lap.

"I'm sorry, kids, maybe I should've seen that coming."

"It's my fault, Daddy. I gave it away."

"No point in worrying over it," Dad said. "But that's why you couldn't go back to school."

"Well, she's leaving town," I sighed. "And from what I can tell, not leaving many friends behind to spill the beans to."

Dad sat back in his chair, his eyes closed. "Kids, we'll need to go soon. Tomorrow, or Friday at the latest."

Jessie looked nervous. "We have to assume that the secret's out, huh?"

"Yeah, Bug, and people around here are not going to like it."

We were all silent for a minute or two. Then Dad cleared his throat. "Kids, before our last guest, I started to tell you something... Something that shouldn't wait any longer."

# Chapter 65

"Don't tell me," Jessie groaned. "More family secrets?"

"The last one, so far as I know. But it's not a happy one. I hope you'll understand why I haven't told you until now." He slumped in his recliner. "Kids, I'm sick."

"What kind of sick?" I asked.

"The serious kind."

"Should I call nine-one-one?"

''No, please don't, Son. There's nothing they can do for me."

I felt the bottom dropping out of my world, and vertigo setting in. As calmly as I could, I asked, "What is it? Are you dying?"

"Yeah, I have cancer. I'm sorry kids."

Jessie looked like a deer in the headlights. "That's not right, Daddy. You can't have cancer. You aren't old."

"I'm sorry, Bug, but it's true. I really wish it wasn't."

I was relieved. "Dad, people survive cancer all the time. There are lots of different ways..."

"It's bone cancer," he said, "near the base of my brain. It's slow growing, and hasn't spread, but it's in a real bad place. It's putting pressure on my spinal column. That's why my hands are shaky. I had radiation two years ago, and that didn't help. I tried it again this summer, while you were at the ranch. It was awful."

"...and your hair fell out." Jessie said.

Dad nodded.

"Can't they just remove it?" I asked.

"Normally that'd be the best option, but where this is, right where the spine connects, they won't even attempt it."

"What about chemotherapy, Daddy?" she asked. "That might make you better."

"The kind I have is very resistant to chemo. There's no evidence that it even slows it down. I won't put myself through that."

"But there are all kinds of alternative treatments, right?" she said. "Like herbs, vitamins, acupuncture..."

"I know, Bug. I think those things work sometimes, for people who have faith in them. I have more faith in miracles."

"It's not fair!" Jessie yelled, "This's so unfair. Why do you have to be sick?"

"Honey, you're right. It's not fair. But I've had so many blessings in my life that others haven't... those weren't fair either."

"But Daddy, you can't just give up!"

"I'm not giving up, Bug. I'm trusting God."

"So, you're just going to die, like everybody else?" Jess screamed. "Like my first parents, like Mom? And leave us all alone? You're going to abandon us! Make us orphans? How could you, Daddy?" Jessie ran to her room, banging the door behind her.

"Should I...?"

"Give her a minute, Son."

I stared at the floor. "So, it's really terminal? Seriously?"

"Straight up, man to man, yeah, probably. But miracles still happen, Buddy, and I'm still kicking."

He hadn't called me Buddy for years. It didn't bode well.

"How long?"

"They don't know."

I looked him in the eyes. "Tell me, Dad, like you said, straight up."

He sighed. "A couple of months. Maybe even six I hope, but probably not."

He held me while I cried, until my throat ached and my lungs tired.

"Will it hurt?"

"Yeah, some. I get headaches, and those'll get worse, but not too bad. The tumor's compressing my spinal cord. My hands and feet tingle sometimes. When it's close to time, I might lose feeling in my arms and legs. I might even be paralyzed for a little while. No bad pain, though. Not like when you were burned."

My throat ached. "What are we going to do without you?"

"Same thing you've always done. Take care of each other, just like you had to do without me before. Take care of your wife. Move on with your lives, like you've done without Mom. We'll get you set up out of state, and everything will be fine. You're mature and have plenty of resources. Most important, you have one another."

"You'll come with us though?"

"Of course! I want to enjoy every moment that I can with the two you. I still have a lot of things to do, and there's a lot I need to teach you while there's time."

"That's why you let us get married, isn't it?"

"Partially, yes. If I hadn't, the state would've put you in foster care, maybe split you up. You'd be penniless and have no rights. Worse, you might not have each other."

"I still don't understand. You could have, I don't know, remarried to someone who could take care of us."

"Son, that ring you're wearing is the only one I ever wore, and I can never wear another. You know me better than that. I never even considered it. I planned to buy an annuity with your college fund. With an income, you could have become emancipated minors."

"Why didn't you do that?"

"I knew you'd be okay if you stayed together, but I needed you to resolve your feelings for Jessie first."

"But you knew..."

"If I had just confronted you, you would've just denied it. I couldn't afford that. I was running out of time. I needed you to tell me how you felt. I really didn't want to share the stuff about Mom and me, but I hoped it'd help you get it out."

"So, you were goading me."

"I guess."

"But once you knew how Jess felt..."

"Right," he said, "my plan wouldn't work. I knew that I couldn't leave you two alone together."

"That's why you agreed?"

"I was out of choices. I realized you're right, even if I split you up, you'd do it anyway, and I couldn't prevent it. To allow it now would be much better. I really don't like it, but at least now you'll have the rights of adults, and plenty of resources to attend college."

I shivered. "Are you afraid?"

"Of dying? No way. We all have to die, and as far as I know, we only get to do it once. I'm curious what it'll be like."

I thought of old Stan, and how calm he had been about dying.

"You aren't scared at all?"

"Nope. I'll be sad to leave you, but my work here is almost done. Maybe you can understand this part of it. I've really missed Mom. I loved your mother just as fiercely as you love Jessie. Imagine being without her for years. I know that I'll see my Emma again soon."

"That part will be good, I guess, but not too soon, right?"

"No, not too soon."

"Um, what you have? Could I inherit it?" I wondered if that was a selfish question.

"The cancer? No, it's not that kind."

"Okay, that's good, I guess. Is there anything I can do for you, Dad?"

"You're a good son, Cory. And yes, there is something you can do for me."

"Anything."

"Even good stress is stress, and you've had a lot of both kinds this week. The next few days look intense, too. Go take care of Jess, and you guys get some rest if you can."

"Okay, Dad. Don't die tonight, okay? I love you."

"Okay, I promise. Love ya too, Son."

A new and uncomfortable weight settled on my heart.

# Chapter 66--Thu. Dec. 15

I'd been up late talking with Jess and I hadn't slept well. I got up early, but Dad was already gone. Probably running last-minute errands for the move. Jessie was still asleep in my bed.

The phone rang. It was Spaz, and he was even more cheerful than usual.

"Hey man, were you and Jessie going to be at school today? Turn on the TV. The heat's out--one of the boilers, I guess. We all get the day off. I'm making breakfast for Jody."

"She's staying with you?" I gasped.

"I wish. But she'll be over in a few minutes. Do you guys want to join us?"

"Um, no. We're taking a trip... This is going to sound odd, but it's true. You know what we talked about the other night?"

He chuckled. "What, your little obsession?"

"Um, yeah. Listen, Ron... She feels the same way."

"You're not serious."

"I am."

"Okay, yeah, that's weird, Cor."

"...and we ran off and got married."

"What? No way! How?"

"It's complicated, but we think everyone's going to find out real soon, so we're leaving for Colorado today. I didn't want to go without saying good-bye."

He paused. "You're just yanking my chain, aren't you?"

"No, for real."

"That's beyond weird, Cory. I feel like my head's going to explode. People are going to freak on you."

"Yeah, you're right, they will. You can't tell anyone, okay? Not even Jody. It's important. I'll give you a call this weekend and catch you up."

"Uh, okay. Mazel tov, I guess."

Why did I tell him that? What are the odds he could keep that secret?

I checked the phonebook, picked up the receiver, and dialed again.

"Hi, Father Neil? Sorry to call so early. Oh, you were? Okay... Is Father John there? Can you give him a message? Tell him thank you from Israel and Allen, and that things worked out well. Yeah, that's all. Thank you so much."

My nervous energy wouldn't let me sit still. I washed the kitchen floor. It didn't make much sense, but I couldn't stand the thought of leaving the old house dirty when we abandoned it.

My head buzzed with a sea of thoughts. I'm married, Dad's dying, we're moving, Beth's getting an abortion today, and what was with Amanda? Distracted, I got mop water on my sneakers, so I vacuumed in my bare feet. They're usually pretty ticklish, but it felt good. I did the front of the house, Dad's room, and down the hall.

When I switched the machine off, Jessie called, "You can do your room, too." I opened my door and saw Jessie curled under the sheet.

"Sorry I woke you, Jess."

"I couldn't sleep more anyway. Would you... Come here?"

I walked over to the bed.

"Would you hold me?"

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I don't know... I need you now."

"You always have me, you know that."

She whispered, "I'm so scared. Please, Cory, just hold me."

I put my arms around her. I moved one hand up to cradle the back of her head and squeezed her. Her hair smelled nice. I remembered when we were on the beach and I'd hold her like this sometimes. It seemed like more a dream than a memory. I stroked her naked back and kissed the top of her head. It was so comforting and familiar.

"It's going to be okay, Jess." It rang hollow to my ears.

When Dad got home we made a late lunch.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you last night, Daddy."

"It's okay, Bug. Getting angry is normal. It's just part of grieving."

She frowned. "How can I be grieving if you're still okay?"

"It's a process. It starts as soon as you know you'll have a loss."

She shook her head. "Huh?"

"I want both of you to learn about it so you're ready for what comes."

"Can we talk about something else?" she asked.

"You'll have to get used to it, Bug. I talked to your Aunt Mel this morning."

"Did she know about you being sick?" I asked.

"Not how serious it is. I told her about Mom's money and the wedding. Since it's probably going public, I thought it was fair warning, given our family history."

"How did she take it?" I asked.

"Not too well. She blames me for allowing it. She called it the family curse."

Something was bugging me.

"So, Dad, Daniel knew about the money and your cancer, before you even told us?"

"Well, yeah. I didn't want to tell you I was sick. I hoped I'd get better first--you kids have had enough shocks. Then once I knew time was running out, I wanted to have a plan for how you'd get by without me. But yes, the inheritance and my health influenced the Judge to write in support of the license. He and I agreed to keep the money and health issues out of the proceedings, since it could only muddy the waters, and has no bearing on your relationship."

I nodded, but Jessie frowned.

"It doesn't have any bearing on your relationship, does it Bug?"

"No, of course not."

"I didn't think so. And I wasn't allowed to tell you about the money..."

"Yeah," she said.

"And I didn't want to tell you only the bad news and have you think you were going to be abandoned..."

"Okay, okay." She held up her hands. "I get it."

"So, we're good, kids? Let's pack up the truck. Just the stuff you'll need for the next couple weeks, and anything that can't be replaced."

For me, that was Olie, my sketchpad, a few clothes, and some stuff from the bathroom. Oh, and the contents of my nightstand drawer. I smiled thinking of Spaz's face when he first saw the stash. I took the picture of Jessie and me from the hallway.

Jessie had three bags. Dad had a duffle bag and several file boxes. I put the coffee and the old percolator in a grocery bag. It seemed weird to think that we'd leave in an hour, and maybe never come back.

"Dad, I don't want the guitar to get damaged by the cold. Can I put it in the back seat, or do you have other stuff that needs to go there?"

"Nope, that sounds fine to me." He looked around the living room. "Looks like we'll have plenty of space in the truck bed. I'm going downstairs and get a couple things."

"What? The guns?" I asked.

"It's probably best if we leave those here."

"Yeah, I suppose. Router bits, then?"

"Yep, and the good chisels, Dremil set, micrometers." He winked. "Anything small and expensive."

We heard Dave's Jeep pull into the drive. This couldn't be good. He was supposed to be taking care of Beth at home right now. Jessie opened the door and ushered them in.

Beth was sobbing, and Dave looked anxious.

"What happened?" I asked him.

"We couldn't do it. She wants this baby and couldn't go through with it."

"Okay, um," I searched for words. "I respect that. I'm relieved and worried for you."

Dad stood at the top of the stairs with a box in his hands. "What are you going to do, Dave?"

"We have no idea. I'm in way over my head and we're both scared. But we're going to keep it. Whatever it takes we're not giving it up."

"Huh," Dad grunted. "What do your parents think about that?"

"Beth told her mom, and Georgia tossed everything she owned onto the lawn and threw her out of the house. She called my dad and claimed that I'd raped her daughter, and then she called the police."

"Sounds like it didn't go well. How about your folks, Dave?"

"I didn't talk to my mom, but she usually goes along with whatever my dad thinks is best. He suggested that I might want to make myself scarce for a couple days until this gets straightened out. Maybe go camping, but not to tell anyone where."

"And you're sure you want to raise this child? No matter what, huh?"

"Yes, Mr. Laine."

"Is that true Beth? At sixteen you're willing to give up your youth, and raise a child?" Dad demanded. She could only nod her head. "That's a hard road, kid. I don't know if you're up to it."

"Mr. Laine," she squeaked, "I don't know either, but I know that I love this baby more than I've ever loved anything, and that I'm not going to just give it up."

Dad set the box of tools with the other stuff and reached for the phone, his fingers stabbing the keys.

"Hello. Georgia? Mike. I have your daughter here. What do you mean? She says you kicked her out--is that true? The devil, really? Okay, I'm not calling to argue with you. Yes, the bible says that. Is it okay with you if she stays with me for a while? Okay, good. She'll need a few things--is it okay if I bring her over to get some clothes and stuff, enough for a few days? No? Oh, yeah, I suppose not. Okay, that's fine. I'll come by myself."

"I only need a note giving me temporary custody. Yup, just like that. No, don't worry, I'll write what it needs to say, and just have you sign off. No problem. What about Dave? You can tell me when I get there--I'll see you in a couple minutes." He hung up.

"Beth, do you have your license yet? The card, not just the learner's permit?"

"Yes, Mr. Laine."

"Good. Call me Mike. The three of us were just getting ready to take a little road trip. I'm thinking that you might want to come with us. What do you think?"

"Where are you going?" Dave asked.

"Wisconsin."

"Okay with me. How about you, Babe?" he asked Beth.

"Count me in. Let's get out of here."

"Okay, Beth, call your dad. If he's on a rig in the Gulf, you probably won't reach him directly, but get a message to him that you had a fight with your mom, and that you're okay and staying with friends. Tell him that you'll call him again tonight. If you do get him, tell him everything. I mean everything."

Relieved to have something to do, Beth picked up the phone, but then put it down. She dug in her purse for her address book.

"Cory, Jessie, get the truck loaded while I write this thing. Beth can help when she's done with her call. Dave, you're eighteen, right?"

"Yeah, two weeks ago."

"Good. Get home and tell your folks you're going camping. Pack clothes and toiletries for two weeks. How much gas is in that bug-squasher?"

"Half a tank, uh, Mike."

Dad dug a twenty from his wallet and handed it to Dave. "Get your stuff, fill it up, and get right back here, okay?"

"Okay."

Dad got out a pen and sat at the table. "Temporary custody agreement..." he mumbled as he wrote.

Half an hour later we were ready. We'd unplugged and emptied the fridge and freezer, and propped the doors open. Whatever was good for snacking we tossed in the vehicles, the rest we set on the curb in bags along with the garbage. Dad was back with a signed document, Beth had left a message for her dad, and both vehicles were fueled.

"Dave, drive carefully, and don't attract attention. They probably aren't looking for you, but if you get pulled over, let me do the talking, okay?"

"No problem, um, Mike."

"Our goal tonight is to get down the coast, across the state line, and find a hotel outside Green Bay. That'll take a couple hours. We'll stop there for the night and discuss what to do next."

Dave and Beth left out the back door. A minute later, the phone rang, and I picked it up.

It was Spaz. "Cory? Turn on your TV." Just like that, he hung up.

"Dad?" Jessie said from the front window, "We have a problem."

Several of our neighbors milled out on the sidewalk, and our minister's car was parked in front of Janna's garage. More cars pulled up. Beth and Dave sat in the Jeep across the street.

The Channel Three news van had parked at the curb, partially blocking our driveway. The cameraman and Mr. Bad Hair were standing across the street. I flipped on the tube and there we were--well, the front of our house at least. Balloons still bobbed on the handrail. I shouldn't have trusted Spaz... No, someone had called these people...

"Amanda," I swore.

Dad looked at the screen and started issuing commands. "Window shades down, don't peek out. Lock the doors and don't answer them." As predicted, there was a knock at the door.

Dad was on the phone. "Yes, my emergency is that there's a crowd outside my house. People are trespassing, blocking my driveway and... A dozen at least. No, we're a little rattled, but nobody is hurt, at least not yet. I have no idea. Yes, that's the correct address. You will? Great, thanks."

I looked at the TV, where the reporter spoke in front of the house. "...allegations of incest, abuse and neglect. Child Protective Services are not answering any questions yet but are expected on the scene shortly." The picture expanded to include another figure.

"Excuse me sir, do you know the family that lives here?"

"Sure." It was Harrad.

"Is it true that the father is single and works nights, leaving the children to fend for themselves?"

"Yeah, I guess, but..."

"Thank you, sir. Simon, back to you."

But the segue was botched, and the camera panned around the yard as if searching for something. I recognized our minister and several church members, some apparently talking to the reporter. Neighbors had come out of their houses to see what was going on. A car motor roared in the background. The camera panned back to the reporter.

Before he could speak, there came a squeal of tires that we could hear live, and then with a weird delay, again over the TV. A horn blared from both sources. The double sound of a crash was next as a car plowed into the TV van. People scrambled and shouted. The picture on the tube was snow careening by as the cameraman bolted away from the street. The view rolled and settled on a rusty brown Buick. The driver came into focus.

Everyone in the room seemed to say it at the same time. "Spaz?"

In the passenger seat was a figure wrapped in a bright pink parka, hidden by the fur around the hood.

The horn stopped, and the driver shouted "You vultures looking for us? Cory and Jessie Laine? You want an interview?"

At this temptation, the reporter moved hesitantly toward the vehicle.

"I'll give you an interview!" Spaz threw the transmission into reverse and shot back a few feet. He got a good head start and hit the van again. The Buick held firm, conceding only some chrome trim, but the van groaned and lurched out of the driveway and onto our front lawn.

"What's he doing?!" Jessie gasped.

"Trying to help, I think," Dad grumbled.

Spaz looked around and then straight into the camera, straight into our living room from twenty feet away. The engine gunned, not quite drowning out the expletives behind the lens. In a dizzying moment the view flipped upside-down, showing boots retreating on top of the scene. A siren wailed in the distance.

The Buick revved in front of the lens and fishtailed north up our street.

Dad said quietly, "Back door, quickly but calmly. Let's get out of here."

A couple cars followed the Buick north through the neighborhood. A few moments later a squad car turned onto our street and all eyes turned south. He paused in front of the house. People pointed and yelled, and he followed the Buick north. We rolled out of the driveway, and partially hidden by the damaged van, headed south with the Jeep close on our heels.

I watched our home fade out of sight, and a great sadness filled me. Jess leaned back against me, pulling my arms around her. We turned right, toward the main road.

"I hope he's okay," Jessie said.

My heart sank at the thought of all the trouble Rob had brought on himself. He'd head for the logging trails--there was no way out really, but he just wanted to buy some time for us.

We turned south at the big drugstore and headed past the airport. Doing the speed limit seemed awfully slow. By the time we passed the Lighthouse, it was already getting dark. About a half hour past the restaurant the road widened, and cars and semis filed by us in the passing lane.

One of the cars pulled between our pickup and the Jeep. We all jumped when the bright blue light of a State Police car flashed all around us. Dad slowed and looked for a clear bit of shoulder. I looked anxiously at the Jeep, which slowed, and then pulled into the passing lane and continued around the hill.

Dad put the truck into park, rolled down his window, and then rested both hands on the wheel. The spotlight glare was blinding, and the rush of cold air just added to my chills.

"License and registration, sir?" The officer's voice lilted with a Scandinavian accent.

"Good evening, Jerry. I'm going to slowly get my wallet from my right rear pants pocket..."

"Mike? Aw, never mine, relax."

"Let me guess. You just stopped to give me the twenty bucks I won from you?"

The officer laughed. "How about I don't gives a ticket for dat obstructed plate and it even up, ya no? Ay, deez da kits? No, can't be... Deez ones too big, eh?"

"Jessie, Cory, meet Jerry, the best trooper north of the bridge." We just waved, still a little nervous.

"Pleased to meet you kits. Why youse trying to butter me up, Mike? I already went let it off easy."

"A twenty-dollar warning isn't letting me off easy," Dad grumbled.

Jerry laughed again. "Oh well, ya take what ya git, eh. Good night folks, drive careful, eh?"

The officer walked back to his car, stopping to brush the snow from our license plate. Dad leaned out the window. "You know, Jerry, technically we're about thirty miles south of the bridge..."

Jerry yelled over his shoulder, "I figure you say dat, youse sawn off a..." but Dad's window rolled up again.

Dave and Beth waited on the shoulder about a half mile ahead. Dad pulled off in front of them and walked back to fill them in. When he returned, he walked to the passenger side.

"I need one of you kids to take over. My feet are a little numb."

Jessie shot me a worried glance. She slid over and took the wheel. Back on the road, the Jeep pulled in behind us again. A few minutes later we crossed the state line.

# Chapter 67

"Three rooms, please. Kings, non-smoking."

Dave and Beth shared a look.

The motel manager glanced at Dad's license as he filled out a card. "I'm pretty full tonight--I don't have three next to each other."

Dad smiled. "I'm sure that'll be fine."

"Non-smoking? I have a room with two twins on the second floor, and a king on the first... The only other king is a suite with a hot tub. You can have that for twenty bucks more."

"We'll take them," Dad said. He gave the clerk a credit card and signed the receipt.

"What's the best pizza in town?" Dad asked.

"I recommend Roman's. Their delivery menu's in the rooms." The clerk pushed three sets of keys across the counter one by one. "Twins, king, and suite. Checkout's at ten a.m. Have a good night folks."

Dad handed Jessie the key to the room with the hot tub. Beth got the first-floor king.

"Stow what you need for tonight," Dad said, "And we'll all meet in the suite in ten minutes."

I grabbed Olie from the back seat, and my gym bag from the truck bed. Jess opened the door to the room. She flipped on the light and nothing scurried, so we hung up our coats. I checked for signs of bedbugs and threw the bedspread in a comer. I'd heard they never wash those things. I pulled the spare blanket off the shelf--it smelled of laundry soap. The room seemed cold, so we turned up the heat. We looked at the hot tub and grinned at each other.

We both had to pee. When Jess was done, she asked if she could watch me again.

"Fascinating," she said. "You must be half bladder."

I washed up and then called in the pizza order. I was hungry and probably ordered too much.

Beth knocked, and Jess opened the door. "So, what is this all about? What's up with you guys? First, you're sick, now you're fleeing the state?"

"Come on in. I think that's what we're here to discuss, but let's wait for Dad."

There was another knock on the door and Jess let Dad in. He looked tired.

"Okay, Beth, Dave? Make yourselves comfortable," he said. "It's story time. You guys go right ahead--start from the beginning."

"Okay," Jess said, "some of this might sound a little strange, but hang with us, okay?" They nodded. "Cory and I love each other--we have since we met. We always said we'd get married someday."

"Aw! That's so cute!" Beth exclaimed.

She glanced at me. "That feeling has never gone away."

Beth and Dave exchange a doubtful glance.

"Obviously I'm adopted, so there's a legal barrier, rather than a biological..."

"Wait," Dave interrupted. "You guys are in love with each other?"

We nodded.

Jessie continued, "Like I said, hang with us a minute. It turns out that's okay..."

"How could you not tell me?" Beth pleaded, "I'm your best friend. I trust you with everything. I can't believe you hid this from me!"

"So... What? You make out and stuff?" Dave wanted to know.

Beth rubbed her forehead. "So that guy you liked was literally the boy next door... In your house. Wow."

"That's a little creepy." Dave said.

"I'm so sorry, Beth!" Jessie said. "I was dying to tell you, but it was too dangerous..."

"Dave," Dad said, "you might want to be less judgmental. People who live in glass houses, you know."

"I'm sorry, Mike, but making out with your sister's pretty kinky."

"So is knocking up a sixteen-year-old by screwing her without a fucking condom!" The room fell uncomfortably silent. "I'm sorry, Beth. That was crude," Dad said.

"No problem, Mr... Mike." She turned to Dave, "Honey, we're in no position to judge other people, especially not our friends."

"Look, I'm sorry, guys," he said. "I'm having trouble wrapping my head around this. Nobody knew, nobody even suspected, you never gave us a clue."

Beth tapped his shoulder. "Except that they didn't date other people, never even expressed opinions on who they thought was cute..."

I told Beth and Dave about the marriage laws and where we were going. Jessie told them about how we snuck away and got married. We showed them our rings.

"I think it's okay to wear them from now on," Dad said. We excitedly took them off their chains, and slipped them on each other's finger. We kissed, but then realized we might be making the others uncomfortable. Dave just looked away. We needn't have worried about Beth. She was practically in tears and hugging Jessie.

Eventually Dave reached out and shook my hand. "Congratulations. Look, Cory, I'm sorry about..."

"Forget it," I said, as Beth smothered me with a hug.

There was a knock on the door, startling us. I opened the door cautiously. It was just the pizza delivery girl.

Beth wanted to know all about the wedding. As we ate, Jessie filled in the details. Even though Beth understood why she couldn't be there, she was bummed to have missed it. I told them about the inheritance and its conditions, though not the amount. They were very excited, and admitted they'd felt guilty about the cost of the hotel room.

"No need. There's enough to share."

"Mr. Laine?" Dave asked hesitantly, his cheeks suddenly crimson. "I need to ask. Are we splitting the rooms by couples?"

"Thanks for checking. It's up to Beth. She has her own room because it wouldn't be appropriate for her to share a room with the newlyweds or with me. If she asks, you may join her. She's of legal age for consent, and as her temporary guardian, I have no objection. There's no law against it, and I don't think you'll get each other in any more trouble than you already have. Or you could go out and sleep in the truck."

"Okay. Thanks for clarifying."

"Anyway," I continued, "we didn't know about the inheritance until afterwards--Dad wanted to make sure we married for love."

Beth asked, "Why didn't you just wait a couple years?"

"Because we don't have a year. Dad's sick. He's dying. Not right now, but soon, a few months."

Dad told them about the tumor. He explained what it would've meant for Jessie and me if we'd been orphaned. I got that bowling-ball-in-the-throat feeling.

"That's why it was urgent," Beth said. "So, were you thinking we could come with you for a while?"

"Beth, you're a minor," Dad said, "and in my custody. You're better off staying with us for now. Dave, you can choose what you want to do."

"What do you think, Babe?" Beth asked.

"I'm laying low. If you don't mind, I'd like to stick with her."

"That's fine." Dad said. "Beth? Why don't you give your dad another try? Then Dave, call your folks, let 'em know what's up, and find out what's happening back in town."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, are they taking Georgia's accusations seriously? Have the police stopped by looking for you?" Dave nodded. "And kids, I think we should stay here two nights. I need to make some arrangements for when we get there, and I'm sure the newlyweds would appreciate some alone time." He gave us a thin smile, but his eyes were hard.

"Beth, if you get hold of your dad, I need to talk to him, too. It's important. Give me the number, and call me in room two-twelve when you're done, okay?"

"Okay."

"Cory, maybe you could walk me upstairs."

"Uh, sure, Dad."

Outside, I asked "What's up?"

"I wanted to make sure you have what you need for tonight and tomorrow. Other than time and privacy, I mean."

I gave him a quizzical look.

"There's an all-night pharmacy a couple blocks from here."

"Oh. No, Dad. We're good, thanks. We aren't taking any risks."

"Alright, I just wanted to be sure." He stopped and turned to face me. "I'm happy for you two, but this is really hard for me. She's still my little girl, Cory. Can you understand that? Not only that, but in my mind, she's still your sister. I'm really struggling here."

"I know. Is there anything we could do to make it easier on you?"

"I don't think so, thanks. I knew intellectually what it meant to give consent, but I wasn't prepared for such a strong gut reaction. It's my issue to deal with."

"Okay. I wish I could do something to help."

He laughed. "Just go get some of it out of your system, okay? I don't know if I could spend two more days on the road with you two wound up tighter than a pair of eight-day clocks."

I grinned back. "You could ride in the Jeep."

His smile was genuine. "I may have to. Not that those other two are much better."

"Goodnight, Dad. I love you. And thanks."

"I'm planning to have lunch at the diner across the street. Maybe I'll see you guys around noon. Tell your... tell Jessie goodnight for me."

# Chapter 68--Fri. Dec. 16

Jessie kept me up late and got me up early. In between we napped in bed and soaked in the tub, massaged by jets and bubbles. By lunchtime I was relaxed, sated, and famished.

Dad wasn't at the restaurant. The girls went to the bathroom, leaving Dave and me alone.

Dave nudged my elbow and smirked. "You look a little tired."

"I'm not the one with bags under my eyes, dude." I had to grin. "As for me, I haven't slept that well in years."

"They say you sleep better when you exercise." He nodded towards the women's room. "What do you want to bet they're comparing notes?"

"Who knows?" I scanned the menu. "You run cross country, right? I need to build up my stamina. Any suggestions?"

He nodded.

"Seriously, I married an athlete. My muscles hurt."

He gave me a crooked grin. "Wild?"

"Um, vigorous."

"Try push-ups, sit-ups, and running," he said. "Squat thrusts are good, too."

"Is that an exercise or a euphemism?"

"Maybe both."

"Last night was only my second time," I admitted.

He smiled, blushing a little. "Yeah, same here." He was going to go on, but instead, said, "Here comes your Dad."

"Okay, change the subject. I'm sure he doesn't want to hear any of this."

"Uh, no, probably not. Hi, Mike."

"Hi, guys." Dad clasped his hand on my shoulder and smiled. "I got messed up with the change in time zones. I got here at eleven and had to come back. Where are the ladies?"

"Gossiping in the girls' room," Dave said.

"Hmmm." Then to the waitress, "Coffee, please."

We studied our menus in silence. Eventually the girls returned, both blushing.

"Hi, Daddy." Jessie kissed him on the cheek and sat down next to me. She reached for my hand under the table.

We ordered lunch and Dad filled us in on his preparations.

"It's high skiing season in Steamboat Springs, and the hotels are booked up. But I found three apartments that we can rent. It's a brand-new complex, and they're all in the same building. According to the office, they have nice views of the mountains. Does that sound okay?" We all indicated our approval.

"Thanks, Dad," I said.

"They have a company that'll come in and furnish them for us, right down to spoons and pillowcases, but they probably won't be ready until late next week. I told them we'd take a six-month lease. After that we... We'll reassess our needs." Jessie squeezed my hand tight and glanced at me.

"Mike," Dave said, "don't worry, I'll get a job and..."

"No, you won't. You'll attend classes with the other three and earn your diploma."

"But..."

"No buts. I don't know how long you'll want to stay out there, but while you're with me, all four of you will continue your education. Understood?" We nodded.

"Wait a minute. You're renting us an apartment?" Beth asked.

Dad sighed. "Yeah. It's not an ideal solution, but in your dad's words, what's the harm at this point? We'll be spending a lot of time together, and I think we'll all appreciate a measure of privacy. Remember though, Beth, I'm responsible for you for the time being, and I'm putting a lot of trust in you two. Don't make me regret it."

"Thanks, Mike. You won't."

"Oh, Mike," Beth said, "I called the Escanaba police this morning and told them that my mom was mistaken. They took my statement and told me that they'd put it in the file, then they talked to Dave. The officer said they didn't have any reason to take any action at this point."

"Good. I'm relieved to hear that. Did you let your folks know, Dave?"

"Yeah, I talked to them this morning, too. They're glad I'm with you. I told them about your wedding and stuff, though. I hope that's okay."

Dad shrugged and looked at me.

"Yeah," I said. "I guess it's not a secret now. How'd they take it?"

"They were kind of confused. I think they're more worried about me right now."

Dad nodded. "That's good."

"So, what's the plan, Mike?" Beth wanted to know.

"I've made reservations outside Omaha for tomorrow night. That's about nine hours road time Saturday, and about ten more to Steamboat Springs on Sunday. Grace and the Judge are putting us up at the ranch until all the apartments are ready."

"That's great, Daddy. It'll be good to see them."

"Jessie, I transferred money from your college fund to the credit union account this morning. I want you girls to go out this afternoon and get Beth a couple weeks of clothes. Something comfortable for travelling."

"You want us to go shopping?" Beth asked.

"That's what I said. Beth, you'll have to drive. Boys, I want you to find the local AAA office and get us a TripTik for our route, and then get the best set of walkie-talkies you can find, just in case we get separated in traffic. That'll help us coordinate rest and fuel stops, too. Dave, I designate you as an approved adult, so Cory, you can drive as long as he's with you. Oh, get some extra batteries, too."

"You be careful with my Jeep, okay?" Dave told Beth. "Don't ride the clutch."

"Nag, nag, nag," she teased.

"The rest of the day is your own. I'll be here for dinner at seven, local time, but I'll understand if you young folks want to order in. If we don't meet up tonight, let's be here at seven tomorrow morning, okay?"

"What are you going to do, Dad?" I asked.

"I'm going back to my room and take a nap."

I frowned. "You don't take naps."

"It's a new habit I'm starting."

After lunch, we stopped back at the hotel office. The clerk described how to get to AAA and suggested a local sporting goods store for the radios. On the way to the store, I found out that Dave brought his guitar, and we decided that we'd jam once we got back to the hotel.

"I'm going to ask Beth to marry me," he said. "What do you think?"

"Seriously? That's a big step."

"I know. But I want to do the right thing by her, ya know?"

I shook my head. "You can do the right thing just by being there for her."

"Look, Cory, it's bad enough that I knocked her up. I want to be an honorable man, at least."

"For what it's worth, I think you guys have enough to deal with for now."

"So, you think we should wait? Look who's talking."

I glanced at him. "Our circumstances are a little different."

"That's putting it mildly."

"How are you going to support yourselves?" I asked.

"I'm still working on that. Maybe her dad can get me a job on a rig. I hear it's good money."

"And leave her alone with the baby? Don't you want to be there?"

"Not really. Babies..."

"Are hard work?"

"Yeah, I guess," he admitted.

We got back about three, but figured the girls might be a while, so Dave went to get his guitar, and I invited Dad down to listen.

"Not now, thanks," he said.

"Are you okay?"

"Just a headache."

I felt a chill in my blood. "Can I get you something?"

"No, I have a prescription from my doctor. The pain pills help a lot but make me kind of dopey. I'm hoping you kids are up to driving tomorrow."

"No problem, Dad. Just let us know if there's anything you need, okay?"

"Yeah, alright."

It was good to play music again. Dave really liked Olie and I let him play my little guitar the whole time. His was a big dreadnaught that I had to stretch to reach around. The girls came in about five-thirty.

Jessie screamed "Oh my God! That was a blast!"

"You guys had a good time shopping?"

"It was a girl's fantasy. A mall and a credit card!" Beth said.

"Show us what you got." I wasn't really interested but could tell that Jessie was having fun. They took turns pulling more and more clothes out of the bags.

"How much did you guys spend?" Dave asked.

"We have no idea." Jess giggled. "Wait, look what we got for you guys--you'll look so cute in this..."

"Did you hear that, Cory? You and I are going to be cute."

"Great," I groaned.

"Jessie," Beth whispered, "What about the..."

"No way."

"Go on..." Beth urged.

"Really? I guess...."

Beth giggled. "Okay, Babe, this show will have to continue in private." She almost doubled over laughing as she scooped up her treasures. "Come on, we have to go. Get the door for me."

Dave and I raised our eyebrows at each other. Jess and I could still hear Beth laughing after the door closed.

"Wait right here," Jessie ordered, and ran into the bathroom with a small, black shopping bag.

# Chapter 69

It was a long weekend of driving. The truck shuddered as a north wind blew snow across the flat, empty fields. I survived on Diet Coke and Advil--I ached in muscles I'd never used before. I was tired, and happier than I ever could have imagined.

Dad bought a blanket and a pillow from the motel and spent a lot of time sleeping in the back seat. Rolling through the endless plains of Nebraska, Jessie laid her head on my lap as I drove. At one point, Dad woke and told her to sit up and wear her seatbelt right.

"My gosh, have you two already started to forget everything I've taught you?"

"Sorry, Dad," she said.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Almost five," I told him.

"Let's get dinner in the next town. I need more pills, and I don't want to take them on an empty stomach."

"Okay. I'm getting bleary. Maybe you can take over after dinner, okay, Jess?"

"Yeah, that's fine. You have to stay awake and navigate once we get to Colorado, though."

"Yeah, no problem." I picked up the radio. "Hey, Dave, are you listening?"

"What's up? Over."

"Dinner stop coming soon."

"Sounds real good. Out."

We stopped at Julesburg for quick dinner, and then headed right back up the road.

It was dark when we pulled up the familiar drive at the ranch. The girls got the guest room and the three of us guys made do with the bunkhouse. It was already weird to be in bed without Jessie, but I was so tired it barely mattered.

# Chapter 70

Late Wednesday afternoon we got a call that the apartments were ready. Each had a private door that opened onto a common sidewalk, so they felt like our own homes. Beth and Dave had a small unit on the second floor and Dad was downstairs at the far end of the building. Our place was larger, a two bedroom at the other end of the first floor. It had a bath in each large bedroom and a half bath off the living room. I let Jessie unlock the door, and then scooped her up and carried her inside.

"That's so romantic," she cooed.

There was a glass vase with two dozen red roses on the counter, tied with a ribbon that led to a bottle of sparkling cider in the fridge, compliments of Dad, I was sure.

We were both breathlessly excited. Our first home together. Our own bedroom for both of us. Our own king-size bed with Egyptian cotton sheets and a down quilt. We literally couldn't wait to test it out.

Dad didn't give us much time to rest. Thursday morning the four of us gathered at our dining room table to meet the head tutor, Mr. Ransid. Yeah, really. I would've changed it if it was me.

Ransid gave us sample GED tests to figure out what each of us needed to graduate with a diploma or GED. He and Dad sat on the sofa, talking about goals for us. It was the first of many days we'd spend in that dining room.

That night in bed, after we made love, Jessie said, "Cory, I'm worried."

"About what?"

"I'm afraid I won't be a good wife to you."

"What are you talking about?"

"Except for a few months when Mom was still alive, I've never seen a marriage up close. I've never had a real family. I don't know how to do this, Cory."

"Just be you. That's all you have to do."

"I mean, am I supposed to cook and clean and do laundry for you now?"

I laughed. "No, none of that changes. We share. If you're tired, I'll do more. I'll do it all if you want. I don't care."

"No, I don't want that. I'm just so scared I'll disappoint you or make you mad at me. I need to know what you expect."

"What I expect?"

"Yeah," she said, "Please?"

"Really? Okay. Let's see... I expect you to be my friend, and to love me."

"Okay, that's good," she said.

"I expect you to tell me what you're thinking and feeling, because as much as we used to joke about it, I can't actually read your mind.

"Fair enough."

"And I expect you to make sure your own needs are met. Can you do all that?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"And you can expect the same things from me. There's no other rules except the ones we agree on.

"Okay."

"Tell me what you're feeling right now."

"I... I feel... Oh, Cory. I'm terrified that I'll do something wrong and you'll leave me. I'm afraid something will happen to you and I'll be all alone. I can't imagine life without you. With Dad gone you'll be the only thing I've got."

"You know me better than anyone. Do you really think I'd ever leave you?"

"No. Not rationally, anyway." She frowned. "That's my issue, I guess. But what if you get sick like Dad?"

"We'll have to handle it then, but I don't think it'll happen. I plan to grow very old with you."

"Do you know if it's hereditary? The cancer, I mean."

"He said no. I guess it's pretty rare and doesn't run in families."

She thought for a minute. "I can't believe Dad's leaving us."

"It'll be okay Jess. Come let me hold you for a while. Come feel safe."

"Would you sing to me?"

"If you'd like. Anything in particular?"

"No, I just love your voice."

We took that Friday off. Dad suggested that we should expand our wardrobes a little more, and to get some groceries. The stores overflowed with last-minute Christmas shoppers. Jessie brought home a light purple silk rose she found in a craft store.

"Like the one you had when we met," I said.

"Yeah. That was the one possession I would've saved from the fire. I read that the color stands for love at first sight, and so does the fact that there're no thorns."

"That's appropriate," I smiled.

She pinned it up above the headboard in our bedroom.

The next day was Christmas Eve. Beth's dad, Jim Johansen, flew up from Alabama. He'd had some time to digest the news and wasn't nearly as upset as we expected. Jess and I fixed dinner and eavesdropped as the men chatted in our living room.

"Terrible time to travel, Dad said.

"Family problems don't take holidays. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your stepping in when you did, Mike. If you hadn't, they might've run off, and then we'd have a real mess."

"No problem, Jim. I'm sorry it had to be so dramatic."

"Her mother doesn't always handle things...the way I would."

"Your daughter's a delight. She's over at our place so often, it's like she's family anyway."

"I hear you're sick. I'm sorry. Are you able to handle things for a few weeks at least? While we sort this out, I mean?"

"Yeah, I'll keep a good eye on her and her boyfriend."

"He asked me for her hand," Jim said.

"Oh? What'd you tell him?"

"That I appreciated him wanting to do the right thing, but that one challenge at a time is plenty."

"Sage advice."

"He wants me to get him a job in the Gulf, but I agree with you about education. Speaking of that, that apartment and the tutors must be costing you a ton. And Beth said you bought her new clothes, too. Would you let me help out?"

"The money belongs to my kids, and they want Beth here. The tutors cost about the same no matter what. That said, I'm sure Beth would appreciate some pocket money for groceries and stuff. It's no fun being totally dependent on friends."

"Fair enough. I'm flying up to Esky tomorrow, to see if I can straighten things out with Georgia."

"That's good."

"She says you and your kids are big news in the little city."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Dad chuckled.

"Look, Mike, everybody in town knows what your family have been through these last few years, and you have a lot more support than you'd think. People are just confused and concerned."

"Count me as one of them. But if you've talked to Beth you know what I'm up against."

"Mike, my old man told me not to wish for anybody else's problems. The older I get, the truer it is."

"Dinner's ready, gentlemen," Jess said. "I'll call upstairs and see if they're joining us."

When Beth and Dave came in, he seemed nervous, but she looked giddy.

"What's up, kids?" Jim asked.

Beth practically vibrated with excitement. "Dave just asked me to marry him, and I said yes!" Eyebrows lifted, and nobody applauded.

"What?" She looked at each of us. "What's going on? I'm getting married!"

"Sit down, Hon," Jim said. "We need to talk about this."

"Aren't you happy for me?"

"I'm... worried. Dave asked me earlier, and I told him no, that you were too young and had enough to deal with already."

"You said no? Dad! How could you!"

"With all due respect, Mr. Johansen, I think it's the right thing for us to do. I'm sorry that I had to go against your wishes, but your daughter deserves to be happy."

Jim stood up. "I thought I was pretty clear, kid. My daughter is too young. She'd need parental consent, and that ain't gonna happen. Once she turns eighteen she can make stupid decisions on her own. By then you'll have proven you can be a good dad, you'll be out of school, and be able to provide for your family. Maybe by then you'll listen when a man says no. Until you've done those things, you're not a man, and you're not good enough for my little girl!"

"I hate you!" Beth screamed. "You don't want me to be happy. Just because you can't stand to live with mom doesn't mean I should be miserable, too!" She ran for the door, slamming it behind her.

"Excuse me," Dave said, starting to get up.

"You are not excused, you miserable punk. This is on your head. I told you no, but you had to go ahead and make a mess of it."

"I don't need this." Dave rose and stalked out the door.

"Jesus Christ." Jim banged his fist on the table. "Sorry. I don't usually swear."

We all sat staring at each other.

"I have to go talk to them," I said and got up.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Son."

"If I don't, they might be gone in a few minutes. They won't listen to either of you right now, but they might listen to me."

"Well then, don't just stand there," Jim said.

I sprinted to the stairs, taking them two at a time. I didn't knock, but walked right in. As I guessed, they were stuffing clothes into bags.

"Hi guys. Going somewhere?"

"Yeah, we're bugging out. They can't stop us."

I reached out and put my hand lightly on Dave's arm. "You're an adult and she's a minor. You could be charged with kidnapping or worse."

"I don't care."

"What would you do for money?" I asked.

"That's our problem. Now buzz off!"

"I know you're both pissed right now, but which one of us three got our dad to consent?"

"Huh? You, you lucky son of a bitch," Dave said.

"That's right. Do you want to know how I did it? Do you want to know how to do it?"

Beth emptied another drawer. "Cory, I don't care if he agrees or not."

"I think you do care, Beth. I think you care a lot. You can only get married if he agrees to it."

"But you heard him," Dave said.

"And that's exactly what my dad told me. Just chill for a minute and listen."

"You're just going to say suck up to him," Dave snarled.

"No. You have to stand up to him. If you run away, you're acting like kids. You have to use your leverage."

"We don't have any leverage. We don't have any resources."

"You have me. I'm your resource," I said.

Dave sighed. "Okay, Mr. Genius, what do you think we should do?"

"Take a couple deep breaths. Clear your heads... Again... Better? Good. Beth, I think you're right about him and your mom. There's a reason he chooses to work a thousand miles away from her. But every day that he works, everything he struggles for, he does for you, Beth. You're his only family."

"If he cared about me he'd find work at home."

"Then he'd have to get divorced, and your folks don't believe in divorce. He's trapped. You're all he has. That's why he's so threatened right now."

"You think he's scared?" she asked. "He sure doesn't seem scared."

"Well he is. More than anything he's afraid he'll lose you. If you run, he's got nothing, and then he has no reason to change his mind."

They looked at each other.

"Okay, we're listening," she said.

"Beth, you need to be honest with him. Tell him you don't want to live with your mother anymore. There's no love and no trust, just like the two of them. Tell him that his marriage sucks, and that it's not good enough for you. Tell him you want better. You want to be loved and deserve to be loved.

"Explain why you need Dave in your life. Your dad's not around enough to have a real relationship with you. You can't depend on your mother to love you, she doesn't want you. You need someone who's proven they'll be there for you. Every day, even when the pressure's on and life gets shitty. Someone who'll hold your hand in a freaking abortion clinic and then support you when you change your mind. Tell him that his grandchild deserves a father who's there every night to tuck them in.

Beth gaped at me. I could tell I'd hit a nerve.

"That's why you want to get married, right? Your mom won't take care of you and your dad can't. You want to get married because it'll give you some shred of security and make your life suck less. Does that make sense?"

She shook her head. "How can you know all that?"

"Is it true?" I asked.

"Uh-huh."

"Okay, Cory," Dave said. "Yeah, it sounds good, but how do we do this?"

"First, Dave, you need to apologize. You were a real dick to him."

"After what he said about me?"

"You set him up and smacked him down in front of everybody. He had every right to be mad."

"So, you want me to suck up to him, just like I said."

"No. Apologize for embarrassing him, and then reassure him that you both want the same thing. Beth's happiness. That is what you want, right?"

"Um, yeah, of course."

"Your timing sucked, man, but your heart was in the right place. She needs both of you. Tell him that you want it to work out between him and his daughter, because that'll make her happier than either of you can alone."

He leaned toward me. "But I need her, too."

"Jeez, Dave! This isn't about you! He doesn't care about that. Focus on Beth. She's what will bring you together. When you feel like you've done that a little, send him up here."

"You mean now?"

"Yeah, now. Time to put on your big-boy pants. And lose that Pac Man tee-shirt. Wear something with a collar."

"Shit." He stomped his foot, then sighed. "You going to be okay, Babe?"

"Yeah, buy me a little time to get myself...ready. No, the new blue one--I like that shirt."

Dave had to pace around the room several times before he left. Beth sat on the sofa next to the bags of clothes.

Beth and I didn't talk much. Mostly she stared out the window at the snow, looking like a six-year-old waiting for her daddy. It was a long half hour before he tapped lightly on the door.

"Can I come in?'

"Of course, dad." She ran and gave him a hug. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"I'm sorry, too. He... Dave and I had a very, um, enlightening talk. He told me about going to the clinic with you. I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"He's really not a bad guy," she said.

"No, he's not. In some ways a better guy than I've been... Hi, Cory." He looked at the half-packed luggage. "Thanks for...well, thanks."

"Beth? Do you still need me here?" I asked.

"For a couple minutes, if you don't mind. Just remind me what we talked about if I get off track, okay?"

"Sure."

After about five minutes I still hadn't said a word, so I got up and left them with each other. Downstairs, three pairs of eyes stared at me as I walked in.

"They're talking. It's going well," I told them.

"Is she alright?" Dave asked.

"Yeah, she's good."

I looked around. "Have any of you eaten?" They all shook their heads. "Me either. Let's do that."

The plates were cleaned, and the dishes washed by the time Jim finally came in, looking exhausted to the bone.

"Dave, look, I... She needs you now, okay? Please. Go take care of my little girl."

# Chapter 71

Christmas morning, we played and lazed in bed, knowing that no one would come over until ten.

I called Spaz long-distance, but his oldest sister, Liz, answered the phone.

"He's not here, Cory. They have him up at Bay Pines."

"The detention center? I was afraid of that. How long's he in for?"

"He says they've been doing tests. He might have ADHD."

"Gee, d'ya think?"

"He'll get to call home later today. I'll tell him you said hi."

"Liz? If you would, tell him Cory says thank you, brother."

"I can do that," she said.

"How's Jody?" I asked.

"All I know is that her parents took her home. I gotta ask, is it true what they're saying?"

"Depends. What are they saying?" I shifted the phone to my other ear.

"That you and Jessie got married."

"It's complicated, but yeah, that's true."

"That's so weird. Are you happy?" she asked.

"Yeah. We're really happy."

"Well that's good, I guess. Call back on Thursday. I might be able to give you an update."

"Thanks, Liz. Bye."

Jess called Jody's number, but her dad hung up when he learned who was calling.

"That's too bad. I hope she doesn't think we just forgot her," I said.

"Cory, do you think we did the right thing? By leaving I mean."

"Yeah, of course, but it does feel really strange to be so cut off like that."

"Yeah. It makes me sad. I'm going to call Janna. She'll appreciate it, and she can get a message to Jody."

When she was done, Jess said, "I'm going to bake some cookies. It'll make the house smell nice, and we can all ice them later."

We didn't have a tree, but we didn't need one. We didn't have any presents, but we had everything. We sat around watching movies, telling stories, playing guitar and singing.

Dad dozed on the sofa. Later he called Aunt Mel. Jessie and I each talked to her, and she was actually nice. She wished us love and happiness.

I drove us out to the ranch for Christmas dinner. Jess and I tried to keep it toned down in front of Dad, but the Judge kept sneaking up behind us with mistletoe.

"You seem exceptionally cheery," I told him.

"Darn right, I am. I got you two off my back now. No more whinin' and moanin' 'bout yer poor broked-up little hearts. I don't miss yer mopin' one bit."

"Thank you for putting up with me," I said. "You were the only person it was safe to talk to."

"Good thing ya made it to sixteen. Weren't much to be done b'fore that."

"I've got connections in the Colorado judiciary. I could've gotten a hearing."

"You fergit, kid, you been at this since you was juss thirteen. You ain't got enough money t' have bought a rulin' in yer favor back then."

"Are you saying the system is corrupt?"

"No, kid, I'm sayin' you was pitiful outa luck. Yer fortunate yer pop didn't send one o' ya here an' t'other to yer Aunt Mel's."

"If he had, and you were my guardian, would you have consented to us marrying?"

"Damn strait I would, if only ta shut ya up," he said with a smile.

"What do you think of Beth and Dave?"

"Fer my money he's a good kid, but he ain't ready ta be nobody's pop. Her? I think something's wrong, but I can't get a bead on it."

"Okay, then. What am I thinking?"

He bent down and whispered with a chuckle, "I know exactly watcher thinkin', you smug lil' shit. Same thing yer wife is."

He was right, as usual. When Jess and I were finally alone again, in our own home, in our own bedroom, she handed me my inhaler.

"You'll want to use this first," she said. Then we unwrapped each other's gifts with breathless delight.

# Chapter 72

"Sit down a minute, Jess. We have to talk."

"Oh, okay, is something wrong?"

"Well, something's bothering me. It's about sex."

Her eyebrows lifted. "Twice a day isn't enough?"

I laughed. "No, that part is wonderful. Everything about it is wonderful."

"Then what's the matter?"

"I really like that you tell me what you want. It helps me a lot. I'm trying to get better at that myself."

"That's good," she said. "You have, actually. I love to hear you talk to me."

"I know, but the other night you asked me to talk dirty to you, and I had no idea what to say."

She giggled. "I know. It's sweet of you to try, but I can tell it's just not your thing. Don't worry about it."

"No, I want you to teach me. I want it to be fun for you."

"Should I write down some juicy phrases for you to try? Maybe on index cards?"

"Yeah, actually that'd help. And anything I shouldn't say. I know there are words you don't like, and I'm not sure how far I can go without hurting your feelings."

"You aren't going to offend me, Sweetheart. Anything we say in the heat of passion is alright. If something ever bothers me, we can talk about it later, just like this. I'd rather have you lose your inhibitions than to ever hold back."

"Okay, I'll try."

"Actually, I was thinking..." she said.

"What?"

"If I asked sometime, would you call me Sis?"

"Um, I thought we said..."

"I know. Just in bed, though. I had fantasies for so long... I think it might be exciting."

"Hmmm," I rubbed my chin. "Have some fun with the taboo, huh?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"I don't see why not. But look, Jess, there's something else. Last night you asked me to grip your wrists and hold you down real hard..."

"Oh, my God, that was so awesome!"

"Really? If we're playing roles, I'm not comfortable with that one. It creeped me out."

"Why?"

"Um, because when we met, you had bruises on your wrists."

"Oh, shit! I'm sorry, Cory. I didn't think about how you might feel."

"No, it's fine I guess, as long as you're okay. It's just something that's stuck with me. It makes me angry when I think about it."

"Oh, Sweetie, I love that you're so sensitive, but it's time to let that go. I can't forget that it happened, but it doesn't matter anymore. Not to me."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. Just these last few nights with you have changed how I feel. My body, my sex, it belongs to me now, and I love sharing it with you. I trust you completely, I'm safe with you. Definitely safe enough for that. But we don't have to do it again if it really bothers you."

"No, I guess I'm good. I just thought we needed to talk about it." I grinned. "Judging by your reaction, it's worth doing again."

A sheepish smile crept onto her face. "I was kinda loud, wasn't I?"

That week was busy with boxes of books arriving, reading assignments, and pre-class studies. Dave and Beth got books on pregnancy, birth, and parenting. Jess and I got books on grieving and marriage. We bought and assembled bookcases. We read a lot, sometimes aloud to each other, and worked through exercises from the books. We did some more grocery shopping, fixed meals, did laundry, and vacuumed.

Beth's dad flew back in on Wednesday. She and Dave met him for lunch at a restaurant by the airport and didn't come back until dinnertime.

"How did it go?" Dad asked.

"Really well, Mike," Dave beamed. "He's going to let us get married."

"He is? What changed his mind?"

Beth sighed. "He says it's the least awful of very few options."

"That's not a ringing endorsement."

"No, he said you'd understand it, though."

"Yeah, I guess so. Come sit at the table, tell us about it."

"He's not too happy," Beth said. "But he can live with it, and that's good enough for us."

Jess beamed. "Do you have a date?"

"Not yet," Beth said. "He asked us to hold off until he could be there. I'm too young to do anything without his signature, so we don't have much choice. He's taken off a lot of time, and his boss is shorthanded. As he says, oil never sleeps. We want to do it back in Michigan, so everyone can be there."

"Oh, Mike, Jim said he'd call you tonight. He wants you to stay on as Beth's temporary guardian if you can."

"For now, I'm happy to, but I really have no idea how much longer I'll be able. My symptoms are getting worse. You may have to figure that into your plans, too. Once you're married you won't need me."

I shot him a look.

"Legally, I mean," Dad said.

"How did it go with him and your mom?" I asked.

"Not well," Beth said. "He said it was probably the worst day of his life. They're looking into an annulment."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said. "Though I'm not too surprised."

She leaned in. "He said that his talk with me was a major reality check for him, way past due. Cory, I don't think I thanked for what you did."

"You're welcome. I'm just glad it worked."

"No, I really mean it. You made a big difference in our lives."

"I'm glad. I'll remind you of that when you're arguing over dirty diapers this summer."

Beth beamed at the thought. I hadn't noticed, but she did have a kind of glow about her.

Dad took Jess and me to get our Colorado driver's licenses. The guy at the counter called us Mr. and Mrs. Laine. Our pictures even came out well.

"Congratulations, guys," Dad told us as Jess drove us home. "This's a big step in becoming independent adults. I'm proud of you. But don't let this make you complacent--that's when you start to make stupid mistakes."

"Like what?"

"Changing lanes without signaling, like you just did. I know that nobody was in your blind spot, but that's because I looked. You didn't. If this is how you drive with me in the back seat, you aren't going to keep those licenses long."

"Thanks, Daddy. It's easy to forget."

I took the truck and got an oil change that afternoon. It was my first solo outing. The guy at the shop looked about twenty, and he called me sir. That felt kind of weird, but in a good way. His right hand and arm were scarred by burns, and he saw me checking it out.

"Careless with gasoline," he explained. "Yours?"

"House fire, a long time ago."

"It's good to survive," he observed.

After that I stopped by the pharmacy to stock up on condoms and inhalers, and then found a hardware store. I bought a couple of those detachable shower nozzles, some tools, and a bunch of smoke detectors.

Jessie took the truck and went to try out the local dojo. While she was out, I installed the new fixtures.

"Thanks, Cory. That's cool," Dave said.

"They're really handy, especially if you shower together."

Dave just grinned. "Why the smoke alarms? We already have one."

"It's just a little extra protection."

After that, I picked up one of our marriage books, reading about different styles of managing money. I took the quiz and got a nine, a hard-core saver. I wondered what Jess would get. I heard the truck pull up outside and got up to greet her at the door.

"How was it?" I asked.

"Interesting. They do things a little different. It seems less competitive, and I don't know, gentler. I figure I'll try it for a while. They said that there's a karate club at the community college, too. I don't know if I can join, but they're meeting next week. I'll check it out."

Sunday morning Dad came with us to Concordia Lutheran. I liked it a lot and felt comfortable there. Dad pointed out an item in the newsletter about the church forming a bereavement group.

"It starts next Thursday. You and your sis... um, your wife should join that."

"We'll talk about it."

"That wasn't really a suggestion," he said.

"Oh. Well yeah, when you put it that way, I guess we should."

We stayed after the service for coffee and signed up for the group.

I wasn't really prepared for the conversations.

"So, how did you two meet?" one lady asked.

I tuned to Jessie, and I'm sure she saw the panic in my eyes. She just smiled and said, "We knew each other as kids. I was kind of the girl next door."

"That's really sweet. You look too young to be married."

"Yeah, we're sixteen, but we had consent.

"Wow."

"It's not unusual in our family," Jess said.

"So, I guess Mike is your dad, Cory?" I nodded. "Your mom isn't here though?"

"No," I said. "She died a few years ago."

"Was she sick?"

"No, there was a fire at our house."

The lady sipped her coffee. "And where are your folks from, Jessie?"

"Overseas. I lost my mom, too."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"That's okay, thanks."  
"Can I ask you guys something personal?"

"I guess," Jessie said cautiously.

"Do people ever give you a hard time because you're..."

"What?"

"An interracial couple?"

Jessie laughed. "I've never been asked that before. I don't think of us that way, but I guess we are. It's just not how we define ourselves."

Back at home, I said, "You handled that well."

"It's true, and I think it's all people have to know. Hey, Cory? Do you still think of us as siblings?"

"No, we stopped being brother and sister the moment we said I do."

"Which time?"

"For me? The first time, on the beach. I mean, we'll always have our history before that, and I treasure it, but where we came from doesn't matter now."

She smiled.

I got hold of Liz later, and she told me that they'd put Spaz on some meds and had him in a group of kids with impulse disorders.

"I'll bet he has a hard time sitting through that," I joked.

"Actually, he seems to like it there. He's really not in a hurry to come back home to the chaos."

"Oh yeah? How's your mom?"

"She got into a fight with Julie, and it got violent. I had to call the cops. I'm serving as the head of the house right now. I don't know what's going to happen."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is Julie okay?"

"Physically, yeah, but we're all pretty freaked."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"Not unless you can get me a job. We have no income," she said.

"You need to stay in school, Liz. Would it be okay if we sent you some money?"

"Sure, I guess."

"Okay, I don't know the best way to do this, but I'll have Dad set something up."

"Um, okay. Thanks."

After the New Year weekend, the real schoolwork started. I liked fast-paced instruction, but this was intense. Mr. Ransid used the tests to figure out where I was weak and concentrated on those areas. In addition to continuing all the classes I took in high school, there was geology, poetry, astronomy, and literature, one after another. It seemed my workload was twice that of the others.

"Is all this necessary for a diploma, Dad?"

"It's necessary for yours. I want you to have lots of choices in life, and for you that means challenging your mind. You have the brains and the discipline to handle it. The others have different goals."

"Like what?"

"Beth and Dave need to get their credentials before the baby is born. That'll make a huge difference in their lives. They're concentrating just on what will be on the test. Dave is close. Beth has further to go, but she's quick. They'll make it."

"And Jessie?"

"She needs to find what inspires her, so she's working on the basics, trying a little bit of everything. Once she latches onto something, she'll run with it on her own. So will you, but your problem will be choosing a direction with so many interests and options open to you.

"I want all of you to graduate by May, though I recognize that Jessie might need a little longer. I want you both to start college in the fall. I want you to have momentum. I need you to start picturing how you want your life to be. You need that kind of vision to break out of your comfort zone."

"Dad, I don't even know where my comfort zone is anymore. Don't get me wrong, my life is wonderful and I'm happy, but I worry about..."

"What, Son?"

"After you..."

"After I die? It's alright to say it. That's good, I'm glad you're looking ahead. We should probably have a family meeting, and I'll catch you guys up on what I've been thinking, okay? Maybe tonight after dinner."

I figured I'd better warn Jessie what was coming.

"Good. I'm glad he feels ready for that," she said.

"I'm not ready for it, though."

"Cory, I know you. You'll feel better when you know the plan. This'll be okay."

"But I'm so scared, Jess. I can barely think about it without getting shaky."

"Yeah, I'm scared, too. But remember that first summer together? We were just kids, but we did okay. Next to right now, that was probably the happiest time of my life."

"It did have its moments, didn't it? Still, if I start bawling tonight, I've warned you."

Jess cooked a big pot of chili and the five of us ate dinner together. Dad asked Beth and Dave to clean up while we went over to his place.

We sat at his table and he handed us each a small stack of papers.

"Okay, I want to break this up into a couple different parts. The first part is a family business meeting. I think that the unknown creates fear, and I don't want you to be afraid of anything that's going to happen. This is stuff that's already decided, and I just want you guys to know. The Judge has been working with me and will be taking care of all the details, and I don't expect you to have to do anything.

"The first document is an Advance Medical Directive. It basically says that I don't want to be on artificial life support and gives the Judge power to order it stopped. The second is a DNR, a Do Not Resuscitate order. When I'm done breathing I don't anyone pounding on my chest or shocking me."

"And if we disagree?" I asked.

"It's my decision, not yours. I want you to know my wishes and honor them. I want you to show me that respect. Do you agree that's fair?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"I don't want to drag this out, so I'm going to move on. The next thing is a copy of my will. Everything we own, the house, the truck, tools and such, are already being transferred into both your names as joint property. There's also some insurance, enough to cover expenses and taxes. Again, Judge Franks is the executor, and he'll take care of all the details."

"The last things are the funeral arrangements. They're all set and paid for. Anderson's, back in Esky, is coordinating everything with the Yampa Valley Home here. I already picked out a casket. Mahogany, Cory, I think you'll like it. The funeral will be at Bethany, and of course I'll be buried next to Mom in Lakeview. Anderson's will make sure the marker is updated.

"When I go, all I need you to do is pick up the phone and call the Judge. Tell him it's time. Do you understand?

"Yeah, Dad."

"Good," he sighed. "We made it through that. Come sit on the couch and let's talk, okay? We settled in on either side of him. "How's it going with your books on grieving?"

"It's interesting," Jessie said. "We were each feeling sad about the loss of our home and friends but hadn't really thought of it as grieving. It makes more sense now."

"What about you, Son?"

"Losing you terrifies me. It's so strange living without you. I miss our old routines, I miss the smell of coffee in the morning. We probably see you as much now as we ever did, but I still miss your presence. It's weird."

"I think it's great that you two are making your own routines. I think it'll help a lot when I'm gone. I want you to have a new kind of normal, one where you're more independent. I still love spending time with you, but your focus should be on getting ready to be on your own."

"I don't want to talk about you dying," I said.

"Not talking about it won't make it go away. It's part of our lives, and I won't let you pretend otherwise."

"I guess I'm happier in the denial stage, Dad."

"Have you experienced bargaining?"

"Like trying to make a deal with God? Yeah," I said, "but I don't have any faith in that. I've gotten angry with him, too, but I know that's just as useless."

He patted my shoulder. "So, you've reached depression?"

"Yeah. Sometimes I just break down crying, even though you're still here."

"But you know I'm going, and you're already grieving the loss. That's good. That means it will probably be easier to handle when it does happen."

"I already miss your cooking," Jessie said.

He laughed. "My feet are numb a lot now, Bug, so I try not to spend too much time standing. Besides, I like having you guys cook for me."

"Anything special you'd like?"

"That chili you made tonight was great. But maybe you should get more creative. It's easy to get in a rut."

"True," Jess said, "but that might be something for the future. Right now, having familiar meals is kind of reassuring. You know, when so much else has changed?"

"I'm with you, Jess," I said.

"Okay." Dad looked at Jess. "What else?"

"It's so strange driving without you," she said. "I was so excited to get that independence, but now that I have it, it seems... Hollow, I guess. Do you feel that way too, Sweetie?"

"Not so much for me, though I feel a little more paranoid driving alone, knowing there's no second set of eyes watching out."

"Those are good things. They're just part of growing up, and it's normal. It's common to feel a little let down when you achieve a goal. You just need to keep setting new ones. What did you find out about the church group?"

"It starts tomorrow night," Jess said. "They said there's going to be at least five other people in it."

"Good. Make sure you attend that every week. You need to have a support system in place. I'm thinking you might want to find a therapist, too. You have a lot to work through emotionally this year. I know you didn't have a good experience before, Cory, but it's worth another try."

"I thought the guy was great, actually. I just couldn't talk about my problems back then. It was too dangerous. It's a good idea, and I think I'll be okay now. How are you doing with all of this, Dad?"

"It's tough to adapt to limitations. I can't go out for a walk. It's not safe for me to drive any more. I don't like being dependent on other people. I'm getting a personal care worker once I need help with hygiene and stuff."

"Daddy, we could..."

"Don't even think about it. Your plates are full, and I wouldn't tolerate it anyway. I want to keep what little dignity I can."

She nodded. "Yeah, I guess."

Every night after dinner Jess and I talked with Dad. Sometimes he'd tell us stories about his life, usually with a message or nugget of wisdom. Other times we'd talk about Mom. It was such a relief for me to be able to do that without the anger and shame I'd had.

He got us used to talking about losing him. Sometimes it ended in tears, but mostly it was good just to feel close to him. Then his care worker would help him to the other end of the building and get him ready for bed.

We'd do homework together, and then make love before turning in. Jessie still slept curled up with my arm around her. Sometimes I'd sing to her.

With permission from my new doctor I tapered off the anxiety meds and started sleeping better. Every day I woke up excited and grateful for my life. In the morning we'd make love again, or sleep in a little longer. We'd change the sheets, shower together, and then Dad and the others joined us for breakfast.

The days were jammed, and we all got a little stir-crazy sitting in the dining room all day, so the four of us started going out for lunch at a restaurant while Dad napped on the couch. We'd order interesting things to take him back for his lunch--he never knew what he might get.

One day we got a package in the mail from the Dultons. It held a white album with glossy photos from our wedding, and a note saying it was their gift to us. Beth and Jess lingered over each picture, and then Jessie disappeared into our bedroom and came out in her dress.

The girls went out the next weekend and found a dress for Beth. They got one that fit a little loose in front.

Dad was worried about his advancing symptoms, and Jim took a few days off in late January, so that's when we had Beth and Dave's wedding. Because of the short notice and tight schedule, they couldn't set it up in Michigan as they'd hoped. It was just a simple ceremony at the local hotel, like ours had been. We flew in Dave's folks and his brothers Rick and Steven. Dave's dad grumbled that he wasn't ready to be a grandpa.

Georgia wouldn't come, but Beth's aunt Hannah did. Jim complained half-heartedly about the expense, but Dad insisted that it was our gift to the couple.

That night after the party, I said to Jessie, "Dave's brother Rick seemed kind of upset."

Jessie regarded me. "You know, don't you? About what Rick did with Beth?"

"Yeah," I admitted.

"Beth told me Rick asked her point blank if the baby was his."

"What'd she tell him?"

Jessie shrugged. "She said it wasn't possible, because nothing ever happened between them."

"How'd he take that?" I asked.

"He apologized, but she caught him staring at her belly several times."

"She's showing a little now."

"She and Dave--the Camdens! Doesn't that sound grown-up? Anyway, they're going for an ultrasound tomorrow. They might be able to tell if it's a boy or a girl."

"I wish they'd settle on a couple names. They've been driving me crazy."

"You think we'll be any different when it's our turn?" she asked.

"We have a few years to work it out."

"Actually, I've just decided. Emma or Mikael. You get to pick the middle name."

I smiled. "Yeah, I can go with those."

"Anyway, they asked us to come along, and I said okay."

"That's cool. They say it's hard to even tell what you're looking at. It'll be interesting."

At the Yampa Valley Medical Center, the four of us crowded around a little monitor while the technician rubbed a gooey wand over Beth's belly.

"Is that it?" Beth asked.

"Yes, right there..."

"Can you tell the gender?" Dave asked.

"Let's see. There's an arm... that's a foot, and a leg... Oops, almost had it. Sometimes they squirm a lot, but this one seems so... Oh. Um... No, I don't think we can do gender today. I'm going to print this one out for the doctor to look at. Here honey, let me clean you up."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks. But that's it? So, does our baby look healthy, can you tell us that?"

"I'm sorry, hon, I'm just a tech. I'm going to have the doctor take a look, okay?"

"Is there a problem?" she asked.

"There you go. Let me take you into his office."

She ushered us into Dr. Lamb's rather messy office. Stacks of patient files grew on his desk. The longer we waited, the more anxious we got. He finally came in holding the printouts, accompanied by a middle-aged woman in a nice suit.

"Hi folks, I'm Doctor Lamb, and this is Katie, a social worker. You must be Elizabeth. And your husband?"

Dave reached out and shook the doctor's hand. "Dave."

"Are these your family?" he said, nodding at Jess and me.

"Might as well be," Dave said. "Look, Doc, you've got us worried. What's going on?"

"I have some bad news. Your fetus has something called anencephaly."

Fetus, I noticed, not baby. Not a good sign.

"It's a rare disorder," he said, "maybe one out of ten thousand births. It means that during its development, the brain and skull have failed to form."

"My baby has brain damage?" Beth gasped.

"It's more severe than that. The brain simply didn't develop, and never will. Fetuses with this condition, if they survive until birth, most only last hours or days. It will never be conscious, never feel pain or respond to stimulus. I'm sorry, but it's always terminal."

"Our baby's going to die?" Dave asked.

"No, no that must be wrong," Beth said. "Let's do another ultrasound. This must be a mistake."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Camden. This is as clear a case as I've seen in any textbook, and the prognosis is certain. There's nothing I can do. I can answer any questions you have."

"What causes it?"

"We really don't know, Mrs. Camden. It's congenital."

"Will... Will all our children be this way?"

"No, it's a random thing as far as we know. The odds of it happening again are very remote."

"What do we do now?" Dave asked.

"Katie will talk you through your options. Again, I'm very sorry." With that he stood and left.

Beth was in Jessie's arms, crying and shaking. Dave looked completely lost. Katie waited patiently.

"Give me that," Beth demanded.

"Are you sure you want to see this?" Katie asked.

"I have to." She stared at the piece of paper. "Oh my God!" I saw it over her shoulder. A face in profile, with nothing behind it.

Beth tore the paper to shreds and dropped the bits onto the floor, dissolving into tears. Dave held her as she moaned and rocked in his arms. When she could finally ask about the options, they were pretty basic. Beth could terminate the pregnancy, or let nature take its course.

On the ride back to the apartment, Beth wept in the back seat.

"What are we going to do, Babe?" she asked.

"I don't see putting yourself through five more months of this," he said.

"Yeah. I think so, too." She cried bitterly as Dave stroked her hair.

# Chapter 73

There was a tap on our door as we were getting ready for bed.

"Hi Beth, come on in," Jessie said.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Of course. Come sit down. Is it about the baby?"

"Yeah. I don't know if I can bear to go through with it."

"Whatever you decide is okay," Jessie assured her.

"No, it's not. Not to Dave. We argued. He wants me to do it right away. I'm not ready."

"Oh, Beth, I'm so sorry. This isn't how you wanted to spend your first day as a married couple."

"I know that waiting won't make it any easier, and I know that I don't want the baby to get any extra medical attention..." She glanced at me.

"I can wait in the bedroom if you want to talk alone."

"No, that's okay, Cory. Jessie probably told you anyway."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I overheard it."

"It's just, it's breaking my heart. It's all my fault!"

"What do you mean?" Jessie asked.

"It's God's way of punishing me for what I did."

"I don't believe that," Jessie said, wrapping her arms around Beth.

"It's true. My mom was right, I'm just a whore."

"Don't talk like that," Jess said. "You and Dave love each other."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it," Beth moaned.

"I know it feels awful now, but maybe it's for the best. You can go back to school, and not have to be a teenage mom. I know you really didn't want that."

"But now I want it," she cried, pushing away. "I want it more than anything in the world. I want to hold my baby."

"You will. Not this one, but you and Dave can try again." She stroked Beth's hair. "Maybe in a couple years you'll be ready."

Beth shook with sobs. Jess looked at me helplessly.

There was another knock on the door. I got up and let Dave in.

They ran to each other and embraced.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to yell at you. Please forgive me."

They stood, swaying in our living room.

"Babe, I have to tell you. I did something awful," Beth said.

"I know. It doesn't mean anything."

She balled her hands into fists. "You don't know..."

"Yes, yes, I do," Dave said, "and it's okay. I love you."

"But Rick..."

"Shhh. You don't need to tell me." He drew her close. "We have each other now and that's all that matters."

"Really?" Beth said. "You don't hate me?"

"No, of course not," he said. "Why don't you come back upstairs with me, okay?"

"Okay."

"Do you want to call Hannah?" Dave asked.

"It's late..."

He took her hand. "She won't mind."

"Maybe in the morning, Babe. Tonight, I just want you."

When they left, Jessie glared at me.

Jessie glared at me. "Did you tell him?"

"No way," I said. "Rick must have talked to him. Dave took it awfully well."

"He really loves her." Jessie said.

"I think he's relieved. Daniel told me Dave wasn't ready to be a dad."

"That's what Beth told me, too. He'd have done it for her, though."

Over the next week the five of us talked a lot about grieving. It's not just losing what you have, but what you dreamed and hoped for, what might've been. After Dave drove Beth down to Denver for the procedure, she didn't come downstairs for meals or class for three days, but when she did, she looked good.

"We've been talking," she said while we ate breakfast.

"What about?" Jess asked.

"Going home."

"Back to Esky?"

"Yeah," Beth said, reaching for the butter.

"Why?"

"I want to eat my cake, or however that saying goes."

"How's that?" I asked.

"I want to be married and have the privileges of being an adult. I want what I have here. But I'm not done being a teenager. I want to hang with my friends. I want to go back to the high school and have Dave take me to the prom. I want to graduate with my friends and throw my hat in the air, not just get a piece of paper."

"Geez, guys," I said. "We'd really miss you, but if that's what you want..."

"How are you going to get by?" Dad asked.

"Dave's folks are loaning us their basement. It's kinda gross, but it's free. My dad's sending money, enough for the basics. After graduation, Dave can find some work."

"Sounds like a plan," Dad said. Scrambled eggs fell off his shaking fork.

"Maybe you could find some weekend work," I suggested.

"Like what?" Dave asked.

"Shoveling snow, cleaning gutters, mowing grass, maybe a little maintenance work."

"I'm not sure there's much money in that," Dave said.

"No, but maybe someone has a house in town that they can't maintain themselves and would be happy to have a nice young couple stay as caretakers. What do you think, Jess?"

She smiled. "That sounds like a good deal for everyone. I don't see us moving back there anytime soon."

"No way," Dave said. "You'd do that for us?"

I shrugged. "Well, we haven't gotten you a wedding gift."

"It's a nice offer," Beth said. "But I don't think we could afford the upkeep."

"The house is ours, so we'll take care of that. We'll set up a maintenance account. If you need a plumber, just write a check. One less thing for us to worry about. If you like venison, there's a ton in the freezers. You'll need to fix the mailbox and storm door."

"You're serious?" Dave asked. "I don't know what to say."

"Then just say yes," Jessie told him.

"Yes."

"Cool. Dad? You're good at this. Can you draw us up an agreement?"

"You write up a draft, Son, and I'll look it over."

"Are you okay?"

"Some days are better than others. This is one of the others."

"What's this?" Dave asked, indicating a package on our kitchen counter.

"It's from our attorney. Financial stuff." I tried not to sound too excited. We were now officially millionaires, but I didn't think it would be polite to talk about it in front of Beth and Dave.

The box contained the deed to our house in Escanaba, free and clear. There were three checkbooks, one in Jessie's name, one in mine, and a joint account with all three of us, each with a starting balance of a hundred thousand dollars. There were keys to safety deposit boxes. There were pages of account numbers, access codes, and phone numbers. Inside that package was our freedom and our future.

Less than a week later, we saw Dave and Beth off at the airport. It was like they just disappeared. Sure, Jessie and Beth talked on the phone almost every night, but the days seemed empty without them. Our daily lessons lost their spark, and the coursework seemed like a grind. Dave and I had become good friends, and I missed playing guitar with him.

Jessie would be fine for days and then suddenly burst into tears. Sometimes she wanted me to hold her, but other times she shut herself in the bedroom. I found it hard to give her the space she needed. It made me feel helpless and frustrated. Once again, we pulled out the books on grieving.

Dad was losing feeling in his legs and couldn't handle the sidewalk anymore. He moved into our spare bedroom. He had a home care worker with him all day, most days an older man named Gus. Gus would help Dad in the bathroom because he refused to let us do it. Mostly Gus sat and read novels in the living room.

Jessie and I agreed between us to abstain from sex as long as we shared a wall with Dad. It was a real sacrifice, but we knew it still bothered him. Sometimes at night I'd lie awake and listen to him breathing, like I used to listen to Jessie.

As the weeks went by he spent more time in his room. I made excuses to walk in and talk to him, asking questions about history or government, but it was hard for him to concentrate. One day I went in and his sheet had fallen off the side, and I could see he wore a diaper. I looked away.

"It's alright, Son. I haven't used them yet--it's just in case." He tried to pull the sheet back up, but his hands couldn't grasp it. I noticed they no longer trembled. That was chilling.

"Let me get that for you, Dad."

"You're a good son, Cory. It won't be long now."

I wanted to tell him not to talk like that, but he'd taught me better.

"I know, Dad. Pretty soon."

He had Gus call for a tailor, who brought a whole display of fabric and dozens of ties. The cheerful tailor measured Dad for a new suit. Dad picked out the material from a swatch and selected the tie he wanted.

The following afternoon Jess and I went out and bought clothes for the funeral.

"Which dress do you like better?"

"I think you should get them both. I love the black one, but it's way too sexy on you for a funeral." That made her smile. "The charcoal one's more appropriate. You still need one more, one that doesn't drive me nuts. Try that dark blue one you were looking at."

After we were done shopping we admitted that abstinence just wasn't working for either of us and we let ourselves into Beth and Dave's old apartment. It was a lot of fun, and an incredible relief. If Dad noticed any change in our demeanor when we got home, he didn't mention it. Like usual, he probably knew. The subject was just too uncomfortable.

Sometimes in the evening, if he was up to it, we'd sit on his bed and talk about the future.

"We've decided to stay here in Colorado at least until we're eighteen," Jess told him. "We don't want to move anywhere that our marriage might be challenged. We figure we'll go to the community college here and get some of the required courses out of the way. If we do it right, we can earn associate degrees along the way."

"Yeah, and we'll decide what to do from there. We're definitely not going to go to different universities, though."

"Don't rule it out, kids. You may have different goals by then."

"No, we're pretty sure. Most college kids have the security of a family and a place to go home to. Our security is each other. I think we'll both do better if we stick together."

"Well, I trust that you'll do what's right for yourselves. Have you thought about what you might study, Son?"

"It's hard to say now, but I'm considering engineering."

"Chemical, civil, or maybe those super-computers?"

"Mechanical, actually. It's a good background for naval architecture--designing boats."

"You'd probably be very good at that," he said. "What about you, Bug?"

"I think it would be cool to become a social worker, especially working with kids."

"That's an excellent plan. It can be complicated applying to schools, registering and that sort of thing. Make sure you get some help with it."

"Okay," she said.

"More immediately, have you thought of what you'll do when the lease runs out here in May?"

"We're going to get a house of our own," I said. "We'll rent if we can, but there doesn't seem to be much available right now. I'd consider buying if we can find something reasonable."

"Daddy, you might still be with us then."

"Bug," he scolded. "That's not a realistic consideration. Cory, buying gives you a nice tax write-off. I don't see why you couldn't get a loan, even though you're so young. You guys need to build up a credit history. Let's talk to the folks where we bank. They know you're a good risk. We'll start the process now and get you pre-approved. That way when you find a place it'll be a lot simpler." He sighed. "Okay kids, sorry, but I'm done for tonight."

"Okay, Dad."

Every night before we turned in, we kissed him and told him that we loved him, knowing that each time could be the last.

And then it was.

# Chapter 74

One Tuesday morning in March, I woke up early couldn't go back to sleep. I felt something wasn't right. Maybe it felt too quiet. I went in and sat next to him on the bed.

His skin looked grayish, but his face was peaceful and relaxed. I hoped that he'd gotten to see what it was like, as he'd wanted to, and didn't sleep through it. I sat with him, holding his hand, cool to the touch. I felt calm and sad, maybe a little numb. The weight on my heart became a boulder.

After a while, I got up and called Daniel, then went to wake Jessie.

She didn't cry right away. She stretched out next to Dad on the bed and held him tight, as if she could somehow keep him from going away. She finally let go, and I held her close while she wept.

When Gus came, we let him go in and say goodbye. I thanked him for the care he'd given and paid him for the rest of the month. After a half hour or so, a hearse pulled up. Two strong men slid Dad's thin body onto a gurney and zipped the bag over him. They came back in for the suit the tailor had dropped off. I gave them a bag with his tie, shoes, a pair of socks, and his watch. Then they took him to be embalmed.

We stripped his bed and threw the sheets into the hamper. Jessie fished out the pillowcase and sat on the floor holding it to her face, weeping and shaking.

"Do you want me to hold you?"

"No, just let me be for now. It hurts too bad."

I got out our address book and started making calls, Grandpa Joe, Aunt Mel, and the rest. I called Dave and asked if it would be okay to stay with them. He was sad to hear about Dad but told me that we were welcome to stay at the house as long as we wanted.

Jess called her girlfriends and was relieved to get through to Jody. She spent a long time talking to each one, even Janna.

While she talked on the phone, I packed our clothes for the trip and puttered around, trying to keep busy, trying to hold the agony at bay. I picked up Dad's pain pills from off his nightstand and hesitated. I knew they were strong. Maybe just one...

I went into the bathroom. My hand shook as I twisted the cap. I swallowed hard and poured the capsules into the toilet. As they circled down, I sat on the tile and listened to Jessie cry.

About four, Daniel called and said Dad was ready, and that Grace had booked a flight for us. They picked us up and took us to a restaurant. They ordered food for us, and we ate it. I didn't really taste anything. Then they took us to the airport, where we all boarded a commercial flight for Michigan.

Out the window I saw men load the mahogany coffin. Dad was right, it was nice.

Jessie barely said a word the whole trip, but a couple times she cried on my shoulder. For a while Daniel told us stories about Dad when they were in the Army, and we laughed, and I felt okay. When we started our decent into Escanaba, I got sad again. A rental car and another hearse waited for us at the airport.

I dropped off the Franks at the Breakers. Jessie and I had dinner at the house with Dave and Beth and spent the evening in the living room as friends came and went. We didn't hide our rings.

"How's married life, Dave?" I asked.

He grinned. "That part's good."

"What part isn't?"

He shrugged. "Other kids at school. The guys are always bugging me to buy beer for them."

"You aren't, I hope."

He laughed. "I don't like beer, and I'm not going to jail for serving minors."

"That's good."

"The bigger problem is some kids don't seem to understand that this is our home." He shook his head. "They want to borrow the key so they can skip school and have sex here. They think they can crash here when they're mad at their parents. They assume it's party central every weekend."

"What do you do?"

"We turn them away." He shrugged again. "When we have to, we call the cops."

"Has that happened often?"

"Once or twice. It was out of control, but now everybody's mad at us. Now we're so uncool. They egged the place and TP'ed the trees. It was kind of the in thing for a while."

"This is the first I've heard of it. Beth hasn't told Jess any of this."

He put his hand on my shoulder. "We didn't want to worry you."

"Maybe you would've been better off at your folks' place," I said.

"It's getting better, and we like it here. We know they're just immature and jealous. It'll pass."

I looked around the living room. "Well, the place looks great. You've kept it up nicely."

"I'm glad to hear you say that. We've been working at it. We really appreciate the use."

"Have you heard from Spaz?" I asked.

"Yeah, he's out. He couldn't come tonight, but promised he'd stop by the viewing tomorrow."

I grinned. "It'll be good to see him."

"I guess Jody wrote him every day while he was there. Now they're a hot item."

"That's great. I'm happy for them."

That night Jessie and I slept in my old bed, under the ugly quilt.

"Hey, Sis," I whispered, do you want to mess around?"

"You're funny. Shut up and hold me safe. I'm not doing too well right now."

"Do you want me to sing to you?"

"Would you?"

We slept late, showered and dressed, me in my new dark suit and tie, Jessie in a conservative, navy blue dress. We ate brunch at the Honey Tree.

"Jess, is it me, or are people staring?"

"It's not you. They're whispering, too."

"Maybe they've never seen an interracial couple."

That made her smile.

"This's going to be interesting."

I stopped and bought a newspaper on the way out. In the rental car, Jessie read the obituary for me. It asked for donations to the American Cancer Society in lieu of flowers. There were a lot of flowers anyway.

The rest of our day we spent at Anderson's, attending the viewing. Yampa Valley had done a good job with Dad. You had to get close to see the make-up. I thought it might be creepy or super sad to see him like that, but I knew it was just his empty shell. The weight on my heart seemed to double in size.

"I'm gunna stick close by ya today if ya don't mind." Daniel said. "I understand that feelin's might be runnin' high, an' don't want you havin' to deal with that."

"Thanks, Grampa," I teased.

"Now you cut that out," he said with a sneer. "When'd you git to be such a smartass? Just don't make it great-grampa, understand?"

We greeted people as they arrived, and Daniel hovered nearby, ready to come to our aid if needed. A lot of people we didn't recognize came, some of them just to gawk at us. We could tell. They left without signing the register.

Dave and Beth came early. It was the first time they'd ever been to a funeral or viewing and I could tell it really shook them to see Dad like that. Jess and I had gotten a chance to be part of the process and say our goodbyes, but the last time they'd seen Dad, he was still active and very much alive.

I recognized a guy with bad hair.

"Excuse me. You're with Channel Three, aren't you? Are you here as a reporter?" I asked.

"No, but I understand your wondering. I just wanted to offer you my condolences. I interviewed you after the fire and you impressed me. You probably don't remember."

"I remember. It was kind of you to come."

"I do have to ask... Would you be willing to give me an interview sometime?"

Jessie and I looked at each other.

"I don't know." I told him. "We'd really have to talk about it. Excuse me. Doctor Prakesh, thanks for coming."

Janna was nearly in tears. "Oh, Jessie, my life has sucked so bad since you left!"

"Do you guys want to go talk?" I offered.

"Not right now," Jessie said.

Harrad just looked bored. He still didn't smell very good.

Ladies from the church hugged us and kissed our cheeks. Sheriff Sanders and other men grasped my shoulder and gripped me in firm handshakes, praising Dad.

Reverend Adams came in. He glanced at us but chose to go to the casket. He stood there for several minutes, head bowed, lips moving. Then he talked to several of his parishioners, shaking his head often. Looking indecisive, he glanced at us again and headed over.

I held out my hand, but he didn't take it.

"I'm sorry about your father," he said, "and I suppose I can understand how a brain tumor could affect his judgment. But I have to say, I'm just shocked and disappointed with you two. You have to know how wrong this is."

"Listen, you sanctimonious ass-hat," Jessie spat under her breath. "God gave us each other to love, and he didn't ask you. We don't need your approval."

"Wait, Jess," I said. "Reverend, even our dad was really uncomfortable with how this worked out, so we don't expect our relationship will get everyone's blessing. But we appreciate your coming to pay your respects..."

His face was red. "But this is just sick. It's depraved."

I stepped in front of Jessie. "Um, maybe this isn't the place..."

"Somebody has to be honest with you. You two are an abomination."

A beefy hand landed gently on the Reverend's shoulder.

"Good afternoon', sir. Daniel Franks. I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. I wonder if I might have a word with you out in the foyer right quick."

"No, it's important that they hear the truth."

"I think what's important is not gittin' yer ass whooped in public by a man twice your age. Now, if yah wanna keep all those pearly whites in yer face, you'll come with me real quiet-like."

The younger man appraised Franks and decided the judge wasn't bluffing. Daniel winked at me as he led the Reverend to the door.

Aunt Mel came in, hugged both of us affectionately, and spent a long time beside the casket, staring at her brother's face. Beth's mom slipped in quietly. She stood next to Aunt Mel for several minutes, saying nothing. When I went to greet her, Georgia recoiled and practically ran out of the room.

Jess would hug people and shake hands but was unusually quiet.

"How are you holding up?" I asked. "Why don't you go sit down for a while?"

She didn't answer, but clenched my arm tighter, so I did most of the talking for us.

"Hi Moose. Mr. Palmer, thanks for coming. Yeah, he was a good man. Mr. Miller, Mrs. Miller, yes, we've missed seeing you, too. Mrs. Loomis, thanks for being here. Hi, Jim, it's good to see you again. Thanks for the beautiful flowers. Grampa Joe. I know, way too soon."

That's how the whole day went, over and over. Even without the gawkers, the register held over a hundred names.

"So, things worked out okay for your little problem, eh?" Father John teased.

"Yes, and thank you again for your tip. You could have been a little more specific, you know."

"I knew you'd figure it out."

"How did you even know about the case?" I asked him.

"I knew how you felt from talking with your father. After I spoke to Jessica, I called Franks and asked him if it was possible."

"Why?"

"It was a logical solution, elegant even. And besides, I'm a hopeless romantic. You and Jessie remind me so much of your parents when they were young. I thought it would be good if you had one another. You're like your father in many ways, Cory. He'll live on in you."

Spaz and Jody arrived, holding hands. He wore regular jeans a nice sweater. There was a new gentleness on his face, and it was cool to see the obvious affection between them. He nodded to me and walked to the casket, where he broke down in tears. I excused myself and went to him.

"I miss him so much, man," he said. "He was like a second dad to me. I didn't get to tell him."

"I know, Rob. He liked you. I think he knew how you felt."

We hugged longer than guys usually hold each other, but it felt right.

"I've missed you terribly, Cory," he sighed.

"I've missed you guys a lot, too. Can you come over to the house tonight? It'd be good to catch up without such a crowd."

"Yeah, we'd like that. Look, here's the rest of the family."

Rob's sisters came in, and Liz gave me a huge hug. She whispered in my ear, "I can't believe you sent us all that money! I don't know how I'll ever be able to pay you back."

"We don't want it back. Hopefully it's enough to get you by until you graduate high school. If not, let me know. And I want you to make sure that the younger ones are eating three good meals a day."

Jess took Beth and Jody to one of the side rooms to talk. Janna looked crushed, but then Beth came out a minute later to get her, and Janna's face lit up. I'd never seen it before, but she had a nice smile.

Before they left, Jody gave me a lingering hug.

"Cory," she whispered. "I wasn't brave enough to tell you, but..."

"I know."

"I... I would have at least liked to have kissed you, just once."

"It wouldn't have been right. I was already married, a long time ago. You deserve someone who can love you with their whole heart."

She released me, smiling. "I think I'm good there."

"You know what, Jody? I've seen Rob happy before, but I've never seen him smile the way he smiles at you. Take good care of each other. We'll see you later, okay?"

The next day was the funeral and a short graveside service. By then I wasn't sure if Jessie could cry anymore, but she did. I started to worry about her getting dehydrated. She used nail polish to draw a small, purple heart on the rich wood of the casket, and I added the letters "A&F". The wind in the cemetery was bitter cold, and it started to snow.

Two days later, on the flight home, Jessie said, "I'm exhausted, but it was so good to talk to people."

"It makes me sad. It's like now we have to grieve their loss all over again."

"Cory, we've been cooped up too much. It's not healthy." She looked at me. "What would you think of going back to high school?"

"In Esky? I don't think that'd be a good idea. I mean, people were on their best behavior this week. I think it could get ugly if we overstayed our welcome."

She shook her head. "No, at home."

"Oh. Yeah, maybe. I'd like to think about it if you don't mind."

She put her hand in mine. "We don't have to, but I think it might be good for us."

It took me a few minutes, but I said, "That would mean we wouldn't start college for another two years. Dad said he wanted us to have momentum."

"I think that two years of low stress would be healthier. We'd be more like normal kids our age."

That sounded appealing. "Can I take you to the prom?"

"I'd love that."

"Well, I guess there's no harm in trying. We can go back to home schooling if it doesn't work out. But... our lease is going to run out before summer break. Maybe we should move first."

"That's a great idea," she said. "I wasn't looking forward to an empty apartment anyway."

"So, what would you look for in a new place?"

Her whole face broke into a huge smile. "I want lots of space, big windows, high ceilings, and beautiful views. I want bright colors and living plants. I want art on the walls." Her eyes sparkled as she spoke. "I want room to practice karate, and a workshop. That would be so good for you. I want a place where we can have friends over, you know, from the karate club, from church and school. I want it to be the place everybody comes to."

It was good to have a new goal.

That night in bed Jessie asked me, "Cory? Why don't you cry about Dad?"

I tried to remember if I had. "I don't know."

"Don't you miss him?"

What could I tell her? That his absence left a gaping hole in my world every second of every day? That I was terrified to my soul without him? That if I let even a tiny crack form, that the dam of sorrow would break and drown me?

"Can we not talk about this now?" I asked.

"It's just, sometimes?" she said. "I try not to cry, because I'm afraid if I do, I'll break into pieces. Tiny, broken atoms that could get lost. You ever feel like that?"

It took me a long time to answer, "Maybe sometimes." But by then she was sleeping.

In the morning, I got up early and padded to Dad's bathroom. I opened the medicine cabinet and took out his bottle of Old Spice cologne. I stared at it for several minutes before I pulled out the stopper, lifted it to my nose and inhaled. Nothing happened. I put the stopper back in and set the bottle on the shelf, feeling empty and ashamed.

We cut back on our studies for a while, and Daniel recommended a realtor. Steamboat Springs wasn't that big a place back then, but it took a week of looking. At night, we talked about the pros and cons of each property we'd seen while we wrote out a hundred twenty thank-you notes. It took both of us to carry them all into the post office.

We got lots of mail, too. Bills, statements from mutual funds and the bank, a thank you from the American Cancer Society, and one day, an envelope from Anderson's Funeral Home in Esky.

Jessie passed it across the table to me. "I don't want to open this," she said.

Inside was a nice letter with a picture of the gravestone, Dad's dates now filled in. July 4, 1942 to March 20, 1984. I was able to smile. It looked complete, like "the end" on the last page of a good story.

That's when it hit me. He was really gone. Forever. I'd never feel his hand on my shoulder again, never hear his voice, never... anything, ever. The photograph went blurry and fell from my shaking hands. I was an orphan. The dam burst, and I couldn't inhale. My chin quivered.

Jessie looked up from the mail. "Cory?"

I gripped my arms across my heaving chest, choking and gasping while tears cascaded down my face. She ran around behind me and wrapped me in her strong embrace, cradling me as I wailed and sobbed, bent over by waves of anguish and bottomless sorrow. I don't know how long I cried, but eventually I was exhausted. And still I couldn't stop.

Jessie let go and took my hands, pulling me from the chair. She wrapped her arms around me and held me close, swaying together in the quiet dining room. She led me to our room where we made love passionately, desperately, as if to affirm that we were together and alive. It was as raw and primal as my grief, but the release was soaring. As we lay panting, she started to giggle, and my heart filled with joy.

I cried again that night, sad but not broken. A weight, one I had grown accustomed to, lifted. The following morning, I felt washed clean. We drove up to see a house on Everest Street. Maybe it was the warm sunshine and the sound of wind in the trees, but the closer we got, the better I felt.

As soon as we walked inside, Jessie grabbed me and said, "This is it!"

The home had been standing empty for a couple months, and was bigger than we needed, but it had high ceilings and large windows, just like she wanted. The price was reasonable for the neighborhood, but even so, the idea of parting with so much money made my guts clench.

We'd been preapproved for the bank loan. We didn't need it, technically, but like Dad had said, it would build up our credit. As part of the deal we put a quarter of the price down in cash. The sellers were thrilled to close right away. It took another two weeks to furnish the place and get entirely moved in. I installed a smoke detector in every room.

There was an art exhibit at the community college on Thursday, and we bought several pieces by one student. She painted in broad strokes of vibrant colors. We took them to a frame shop and had them mounted. I also asked them to blow up the picture of us on the couch and had them seal the silk rose in a shadow box. We hung that by the front door.

The next morning over coffee--yeah, I'd started to acquire a taste for it--Jessie said, "Cory, let's go out and buy me a car."

"Why? We've got the truck."

"No," she said, taking my hand. "I want a car of my own."

"Like what?"

She grinned. "A Mustang."

"Not a Chevy?"

She shook her head. "No, I noticed it on the lot - I think they look cool. It's red, a convertible."

"A convertible? In northern Colorado? That's not even practical. You may as well ride a motorcycle."

"I don't want something practical. I want something fun. I want a GT."

"Um, aren't those, like twenty thousand dollars?" I asked.

"I don't know, but that's not the point. The house and everything is new, but it's ours to share. I want something new just for me."

I frowned. "We don't need it."

"Maybe I need it, Cory. What have I ever asked for, just for myself?"

"Look, Jess, we just bought the house, furnished it, got new appliances, and decorated. It makes me nervous--we're going to have to pay hundreds of thousands in taxes at the end of the year. I think we've spent enough money for now."

"I know all that. But you aren't listening."

I stood up. "All I'm hearing is spend, spend, spend."

"Cory?" She reached for my hand. "I really want this."

I looked away. "Not now, okay? Maybe later."

"Okay, I... I guess I'll wait. I understand how worried you get about money. If we just had our first fight, you win."

"Thank you. I'm just feeling really frazzled. I think everything's finally catching up with me."

"Do you need some space? Maybe you should go play guitar for a while. That makes you less stressed."

I didn't really want to, though I knew she was right. "Yeah, maybe that's a good idea."

I got the old wooden case from under our bed and opened it. I took the humidifier out of the guitar's sound hole and tuned old Olie up. Almost time for some new strings.

As I played and relaxed, I tried to work out what bothered me. Part of it was that I had this beautiful home, beautiful wife and even this amazing guitar. My problem was that I had done nothing to earn any of it.

The guitar was a present, I accepted that. I guessed the house was a gift from Mom. A big one, but she would have wanted us to have it. And Jessie? Yeah, I saved her and fought for her, but that didn't seem enough. She could have any guy she wanted, but she wanted me. On every count I was lucky. Maybe blessed would be a better word.

I thought about what Jessie had said. True, she had never asked for anything just for herself. Not even when we were kids. She could've bought herself designer jeans or hoarded shoes, but she didn't. She was always so practical. I assumed she was just frugal, like me. But then again, she'd had so much fun shopping with Beth and for the furnishings, and that wasn't cheap.

Sure, we had more money, but it hadn't changed my thrifty nature. Had she changed, or had she wanted more, and just... What? Didn't think she deserved it? How weird. Or maybe not. She'd had nothing before she was adopted. Maybe it was a good sign that she finally asked.

I wiped down the strings and put Olie away. I grabbed Dad's old briefcase, the one with all our papers in it.

Jess sat on the new sofa, looking at a cookbook, trying to decide what she wanted for dinner. I came up from behind and wrapped my arms around her.

"Thanks for giving me a little space. You know me so well. Come on, get your jacket."

She hugged my arms. "Mmm, thank you. I do know you, don't I?"

"I told you that if we ever fought that you'd win."

She laughed. "And you told me to make sure I got my own needs met."

"I did, didn't I? Is it going to wreck the experience for you if I try to get the price down a little?"

"You can work out the money while I'm taking a test drive."

"Deal," I said. "And then you can drive us to the high school."

When Jess drove back into the dealership lot in her new car, I had to admit that the look on her face was worth every penny.

We left the truck at the dealer and Jessie drove us to the high school. The secretary at Steamboat Springs High didn't quite know what to do with our enrollment papers. She'd never had a form where the lines labeled Parent or Guardian both said "None".

"Are you related?"

"Um, yeah, we're a married couple," I said.

"I think that's a first, too. Let me run this past Ms. Winslow." She got up and took all our documentation into the principal's office. After a minute, she came back out and asked, "Can I make copies of these?"

"Of course."

"You'll need to pick some classes," she said from the copy machine. Back at the counter, she helped us choose our schedules, and then gave us a tour of the building, pointing out the rooms where our classes would meet.

"I guess that's it, kids. Here's a copy of the student handbook. Don't expect any special treatment because you're married. When you're here, you're just another student. See you next Monday."

Outside, Jessie kissed me passionately. A man by the door warned us, "Cool it kids. Not on school grounds." We got a great laugh out of that.

The next week we started classes. We sat next to each other whenever we could. We were lab partners. We got in trouble for passing notes and for public displays of affection. We got teased a lot, but we didn't care.

I got asked about my scars, which I expected. It felt good just to be able to talk about them without shame. I found that I didn't even mind mirrors anymore. The old wounds were part of me. If Jessie could accept them, I could, too.

It was high school, so of course a lot of guys leered and asked me about our sex life. I'd just say, "Maybe. First, tell me about yours." Most had little to say.

"I bang my girlfriend every night," one junior bragged. "How about you?"

I held up my scarred right hand. "Does your girlfriend look anything like this?" All the other guys laughed.

After a few weeks, guys started coming to me with serious questions. I told them the things that Dad told me. I tried to be as calm and reassuring as he had been. I stressed what he'd said about getting verbal, enthusiastic consent. I explained to them why protection was their concern, and their responsibility. I started carrying condoms in my backpack to give my classmates when they asked.

Some came to me with their relationship problems. Mostly I just listened, but sometimes I reminded them that the world didn't revolve around their own needs and desires. Generally, it wasn't what they wanted to hear.

I was pleased when Jessie told me that she talked to the girls, too. After that, I made sure she had some condoms with her as well. The lady at our local pharmacy just shook her head every time I came in for another couple dozen.

Principal Winslow took me aside one day.

"Mr. Laine, I personally appreciate your efforts to promote hygiene among the student body. I understand that you accept no payment."

"I think anyone who needs protection should have it," I told her.

"Hmmm. I think you're providing an important service. However, as a district official, I cannot condone the distribution of contraceptives on school grounds, certainly not without risking the wrath of some of our more conservative, and in my mind, shortsighted parents. Please make sure that any future transactions are conducted off-campus."

"I'd be happy to meet with any parents who are concerned," I offered.

"Young man, how I wish I could pawn that off on you. It's best for your enterprise, though, if you remain merely another anonymous sophomore. I'm looking for plausible deniability. On the other hand, I could hardly be expected to prevent teenagers from discussing the topic, within the bounds of propriety of course."

"I'll try to be discrete, and not cause any problems."

"Thank you." She winked. "This conversation never occurred."

When I told Jessie about it later, she suggested that we start riding the bus instead of driving to school. "That's not on campus."

I laughed. "I think that's a great idea."

"I have a problem, though," she said. "I heard that a girl is selling the ones I give her. Do you think I should cut her off?"

"No, she's obviously reaching girls that you aren't getting to directly. Otherwise, they'd take them free."

"Good point," she said.

"On the other hand, if she gets caught, she'll throw us under the big yellow bus in a heartbeat."

"True, but probably so would any of the others. I'm willing to take that risk. You?"

"Yeah, I'm good with that. The worst they can do is expel us."

"Can you make dinner tonight, Cory? I have a ton of homework."

"I do, too, but we have that frozen lasagna. I can throw that that in the oven and make some veggies."

"Yeah, that would be great, thanks, Sweetheart."

"Anything for you, Jess."

As the weeks have gone by, our lives are settling into a new kind of normal. In a way, it's like being twelve again. By society's standards, we're too young to be on our own, but we manage anyway. We ride the bus to school. We go to karate and guitar lessons and to church. Sunday afternoons we have an early dinner with the Franks.

Every day I take out the garbage and every week I bring home fresh flowers for Jessie. We do the laundry, go shopping, cook, and clean. We do our homework together and have our friends over. We say thank you for each little thing the other does, because we love and appreciate each other.

But now every night we share very, very dangerous kisses. We know what "more" means, and we embrace it with gleeful ferocity.

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The End

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If you liked this story, please tell a friend. A sequel is in the works.

Questions, comments, reviews, ideas for future stories with these characters, etc.? corymlaine@comcast.net

