Contents

1. Publication Info

2. Dedication

3. Other Books in This Series

4. Other Books by Michael Loucks

5. I. I Suspect You're Right

6. II. I Think They'll Accept

7. III. Maybe You Should!

8. IV. The Art Of The Deal

9. V. A Counter To Their Counter

10. VI. That's The Last Thing I Need

11. VII. A Shared Secret

12. VIII. Making Plans

13. IX. What Am I Missing?

14. X. An Exception To Every Rule

15. XI. I'm Sure I Will!

16. XII. Irreconcilable Philosophical Differences

17. XIII. Bev Newton and Mark Knopf

18. XIV. Go Make Me Some Money!

19. XV. Get Used To Saying That!

20. XVI. Touché

21. XVII. You «Goyim» Do Everything Differently!

22. XVIII. Barefoot, Pregnant, and in the Kitchen?

23. XIX. Another Strikeout

24. XX. A Very Different Approach

25. XXI. An Ominous Phone Call

26. XXII. It Wasn't You

27. XXIII. The Ball Is In Your Court

28. XXIV. Pointless and Boring

29. XXV. Futures and Options

30. XXVI. Deep Conversations

31. XXVII. What Do You Owe Her?

32. XXVIII. Start By Telling Yourself The Truth

33. XXIX. A New Home, Part I

34. XXX. A New Home, Part II

35. XXXI. Home Sweet Home

36. XXXII. Back to Work

37. XXXIII. One Crisis at a Time

38. XXXIV. You Lied?

39. XXXV. What Happens Next is Anyone's Guess

40. XXXVI. Out in the Open

41. XXXVII. Put Up or Shut Up

42. XXXVIII. Spycraft

43. XXXIX. Evading the Tail

44. XL. You Confuse Me

45. XLI. What Are You Going To Do?

46. XLII. Compliance

47. XLIII. I'm Scared

48. XLIV. A Deep, Vital Conversation

49. XLV. You Can Take That to the Bank!

50. XLVI. What's Wrong?

51. XLVII. Would You Define 'Good'?

52. XLVIII. I Won't Let You Down

53. XLIX. The Long Struggle Begins

54. L. A Third Member of the Cadre

55. LI. I Wouldn't Wish This on My Worst Enemy

56. LII. Closing the Deal

57. LIII. The Best Course of Action

58. LIV. Neither Best Nor Worst

59. LV. Please Don't Go!

60. LVI. The Great American Pastime

61. LVII. I Love You

62. LVIII. Knowing More Won't Change a Thing

63. LIX. The Heart of the Matter

64. LX. Two Words Will Prove It

65. LXI. That is What I Would Choose to Worship!

66. LXII. A Last Fling

67. LXIII. It Could Also Be A Lot Worse; A Whole Lot Worse

68. LXIV. What Did She Propose?

69. LXV. Fourth of July

70. LXVI. A Presentation and an Important Question

Copyright © 2015-2023 Michael P. Loucks

First publication date: 2023-11-15

First revision publication date: 2024-02-20

You may contact the author at: author@michaelloucks.com

https://a-well-lived-life.com/

While this story was inspired by actual persons and events, certain characters, characterizations, incidents, locations, and dialog were fictionalized or invented for the purposes of dramatization.

For Jeremiah

Other Books in This Series

The First Rung

The Second Rung

Climbing Higher

Chutes and Ladders (*)

- Work in Progress

Other Books by Michael Loucks

A Well-Lived Life, Series I

Book 1 - Birgit

Book 2 - Jennifer

Book 3 - Pia

Book 4 - Bethany

Book 5 - Stephanie

Book 6 - Kara I

Book 7 - Kara II

Book 8 - Stephie

Book 9 - Anala

Book 10 - The Wife

A Well-Lived Life, Series 2

Book 1 - Bethany

Book 2 - Stephie

Book 3 - Jessica

Book 4 - Elyse

Book 5 - Michelle

Book 6 - Samantha

Book 7 - Sakurako

Book 8 - NIKA

Book 9 - Kami

Book 10 - Bridget

A Well-Lived Life Series 3

Book 1 - Suzanne

Book 2 - The Inner Circle

Book 3 - A New World

Book 4 - Coming of Age

Book 5 - The Pumpkin Patch

Book 6 - The World Turned Upside Down (*)

Good Medicine

Freshman Year

Sophomore Year

Junior Year

Senior Year

Medical School I

Medical School II

Medical School III

Medical School IV

Residency I

Residency II (*)

From the Files of Doctor Fran Mercer (*+)

A Sailor's Diary

Book 1 - The War Years (*+)

- Work in Progress

+ Available exclusively on Patreon or BuyMeACoffee

I. I Suspect You're Right

January 23, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

The adrenaline rush had made me slightly light-headed and nauseated, but I recovered quickly and picked up the phone, which had clattered to the floor when I'd dropped it.

"Jonny?!"

"Sorry," I said. "I dropped the phone. I'm not sure what to say."

"I've made a real mess of things," Bev said, "and I don't know what to do."

"I'm not sure, either," I replied. "Let me think about it, please."

"You promised you wouldn't tell anyone!" Bev said frantically.

"I won't. Let me call you in a few days, OK?"

"But I can't talk if my parents are home!"

"Then we need to find a way to talk soon. Figure something out, please."

"I will."

"It's OK to call me at work to arrange a time to talk."

"Thanks for being here for me, Jonny," Bev said. "I'll call you soon."

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, and took some time to take stock of the situation.

I had given my word to Bev, and my word was my bond, but given my mom's relationship with Glen, I wasn't sure I could keep the information from her. I had no idea how she'd react, but no matter what, I couldn't let her marry Glen without knowing he'd not only slept with Bev but was also Heather's dad.

I did some quick math in my head and thought back to what I knew. Glen had started at Goshen in August 1980, Bev had become pregnant in September 1981, and had given birth in June 1982. My mom had started working at the High School in July 1982, had met Glen at some point after that, and they'd had their first date around the beginning of October 1982.

On the plus side, that meant Glen's relationship with Bev had been over for a year when he started seeing my mom. That was, though, the only plus I could see. He was a teacher, he was something like thirty years older than she was, and he'd gotten her pregnant. I had to assume the circumstances were as Bev had said -- that she'd been on the Pill and had taken it religiously.

A thought crossed my mind that I actually couldn't trust anything Bev had said about what had happened from the time I told her I was moving until, well, I actually wasn't sure I could trust anything she'd said about her relationships. That concerned me, and before I could move forward with her, we'd have to sit down and talk. In a sense, I didn't care about who or what, but lies and deceit were a massive obstacle to overcome.

Thinking further about it, though, it might be the case that Bev hadn't actually deceived me. If she'd been positive that Bob Leahy was Heather's dad, then the only thing she'd done with regard to me was conceal that she'd had a relationship with my mom's future fiancé. If Heather weren't in the picture, that wouldn't matter so long as the relationship wasn't continuing. Ultimately, who Bev had sex with was her business, not anyone else's.

As I analyzed the situation further, I felt Glen had to suspect that Heather might be his, as I was positive that my mom would have told him about what had happened. I tried to think about how I would respond and considered my reaction to the fact that Huifen might have been pregnant. If she had been and had chosen to have the baby, I would absolutely have stepped up and taken responsibility. What that meant would have been negotiated between Huifen and me, with the best interests of the baby paramount.

But what if one of the other girls turned up pregnant? With very few exceptions, they weren't monogamous, and I wasn't expecting them to be, as I sure wasn't. If one of the girls who hadn't made a point of saying she was only sleeping with me discovered she was pregnant, it would be far more complicated. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Glen might suspect, but couldn't know, because it was entirely possible Bev had been with other guys. Again, that was her business, except with regard to naming Heather's dad.

Of course, she didn't have to name him and could simply forego child support, but I wondered how her parents would react to that. She was living at home, and her parents were paying for school, and that put her in a position where they could pressure her. Following the same path my mom had followed was not easy, and I had no idea if Bev had friends who could take her in and how she would make ends meet while raising Heather and trying to finish her degree.

In the end, everything depended on what Bev chose to do, and I could only offer suggestions and support with one caveat -- I felt strongly my mom had to know. And that presented me with a dilemma of which 'right thing' to do -- honor my relationship with my mom or my word to Bev. Doing both would be possible if Bev either allowed me to tell my mom or told my mom herself. If that didn't happen, I'd have a tough choice to make.

Despite my conversation with Bianca earlier, I begged off being together, as I simply wasn't in the mood.

January 24, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Monday morning, after breakfast and a shower, I put on one of my new custom shirts and tailored suits, along with a red 'power tie', as Beth called it. I checked myself in the mirror on the back of the bathroom door, then went downstairs.

"WHOA!" Shelly exclaimed. "That suit is amazing!"

"Thanks."

"If you walk into a bar, every chick in the place will be ready to drop her panties for you!"

"That already happens!" Bianca interjected. "Well, at a university dormitory or party!"

"Now all he needs is the American Express Card and Rolex!" Shelly declared.

"I applied for an Amex card," I said, "but the $5,000 watch is going to have to wait until I make a lot more money than I do now, and I'm not sure spending that kind of money on what amounts to a fashion accessory makes sense! My Casio does just fine, and with a metal band, it doesn't look out of place."

"Well, you certainly look the part of a high-flying stockbroker!"

"Which will mean nothing if I don't actually make money for Spurgeon!"

"Are you going to change before class?" Bianca asked.

"I actually mentioned to my new friends in class that I would probably be in a suit when I came to class if I don't change. I actually didn't think about it this morning until you just asked. I'll probably start taking a bag and changing into more comfortable clothes. That said, Violet will appreciate seeing me in a suit because I told her about them. She was curious about what they'd look like. Anyway, I need to go."

"You start earlier now, right?"

"Yes," I replied. "7:00am so that I can have my daily 'analyst report' on Mr. Matheson's desk before the opening bell at 8:30am Chicago time."

"What goes into that?"

"I'll explain later, OK? I don't want to be even thirty seconds late for my first day!"

I left the house, got into my car, and drove into the city. I parked, then instead of getting into the freight elevator as I had every day for the past nineteen months, I climbed the stairs to the lobby, then got into one of the regular passenger elevators. When I reached the 29th floor, I stepped off the elevator, walked down a short hallway, and used my keycard to enter the office.

"Morning, Rich," I said to the overnight trader who had started at 10:00pm the previous evening. "Anything of note in the markets?"

"A relatively quiet night," he said. "No big movements in Asia or Europe."

"Any news that happened overnight?"

"Italy sentenced twenty-five Red Brigades terrorists to life imprisonment, but that was basically expected. Otherwise, not much."

"OK," I replied. "Let me get to work on my daily analyst report."

I put my lunch in the fridge, started a fresh pot of coffee, then went to my desk. I turned on my Bloomberg terminal and my Apple II, hung my suit coat on a hanger, which I hung on a hook on the cubicle wall, then sat down to begin work.

"Morning, Jonathan," Tony said, sitting down in his chair.

Paige would be in her orientation for the morning, something I was very happy not to have to do again.

"Morning," I replied, not even looking up from my Bloomberg terminal.

I'd looked over a dozen reports Tony had written to get a feel for the style and tone, then pulled up the Bloomberg News service. It was extremely handy and made me instantly wish for the ability to search the Wall Street Journal, Barron's, and Crain's the same way I could search news articles on Bloomberg. I was aware of a service that might provide that, but I didn't know enough about it.

With no major news events, there weren't likely to be huge currency fluctuations for the day, so I looked instead at future risks. The ones that stood out were the ongoing Soviet military intervention in Afghanistan; the labor unrest in Poland and the continuing imposition of martial law; the conflict between the Sandinistas and Contras in Nicaragua; Cuban regulars fighting in the Angolan Civil War; the concerns over the runway being built in Granada; and the serious drought in Ethiopia, combined with insurgencies.

None of those specific conflicts would have any major bearing on precious metals or major currencies, and at the moment, none of them looked set to escalate. I decided on a format for my report which would grade the global climate in four areas: war risk, trade, economy, and political stability. Each would receive a letter grade from A-F, though I'd need to work out some system for making those decisions. For my immediate report, I'd just write prose.

As I was gathering information, I noticed an offhand comment in the article about Nicaragua about the Venezuelan economy, and I decided to dig in further. The Bolivar was a strong currency and was, in effect, the benchmark for Latin America. Venezuela had significant oil reserves, though they were heavier grades, rather than the 'light, sweet' crude of Saudi Arabia or the 'West Texas Intermediate'. Venezuela also mined significant amounts of bauxite, the main source of aluminum, as well as coal, gold, and iron ore.

All of that was a sign of a strong economy, but there were serious mismanagement problems, especially in the nationalized oil company Petróleos de Venezuela, S.A., or as it was known, PDVSA. That, combined with the oil price slump, indicated potentially rough economic times ahead.

Of course, 'slump' was relative, as benchmark oil was trading at $90/barrel, but that was down from $141/barrel at its height in 1980 following the Iranian revolution. Venezuela's reserves, being heavier, traded at a discount to that.

The more I researched, the more I saw that the Bolivar was overvalued, and at some point, possibly soon, the government would have to devalue it, and if they didn't, the market would force them to do so. Their ability to raise interest rates to counter pressure on the currency was limited, as was true for every central bank.

While I'd been researching, Anna, the pretty blonde Swedish secretary for the team, arrived, followed by the two assistant brokers, Kent and Lee, and shortly after them, Norman Monroe and Harry Foulks had come in. All of them had said 'good morning', and I'd replied without even looking away from my work.

I typed my report, looked up the current rates of exchange for a dozen major currencies, as well as the spot gold, silver, and platinum prices, and then wrote my first ever daily recommendation -- short the Bolivar. I reviewed the report, printed it, and then took it to Mr. Matheson's desk and put it in his 'In' box.

I checked my watch and saw that I had about ten minutes before he arrived, so I poured myself a cup of coffee and used that time to review my own portfolios. I decided to move out of a few positions, so I turned on the IBM terminal, signed on, then entered the trades I wanted to make, which would be executed by either Mr. Steinem or Mr. Jackson when the market opened. I also entered an order for my Cincinnatus Fund for puts on the Bolivar, where a small amount of capital could control a huge position.

Mr. Matheson came into the office and walked past without acknowledging anyone. But five minutes later, my phone buzzed, signifying the intercom was open.

"Kane, get in here!" Mr. Matheson growled.

"On my way!" I replied.

I got up and went to his office.

"Two things," he said. "First, I need to know how to use this Bloomberg machine. Second, what the fuck? Short the Bolivar? The single strongest currency in Latin America? And one of the most stable in the world?"

"The analysis backs it up," I said. "They're going to have to devalue or default. Either they'll do it voluntarily, or they'll be forced to do it. They don't have any room to raise interest rates to defend their currency. The only thing that could save them now is increased oil prices, and the commodity reports say that's not going to happen. In fact, the price of oil is likely to decline significantly, to a small premium over pre-1973 prices."

"Your report disagrees with every other analyst report I've seen, both ours and independent analysts."

"I'm sure that's true," I replied. "But may I make two points?"

"Go on."

"First, as I said, the data backs it up; second, somebody has to be first, and you yourself told me being first is the way to make serious money."

"Would you short the currency? In your own account?"

"I sold two standard April Bolivar contracts and protected them with call options in my Cincinnatus Fund."

Call options meant I had the option of buying Bolivars at a specific price. If the Bolivar was devalued, as I expected, I wouldn't exercise the call options and would buy at market. If, for some reason, the Bolivar strengthened significantly, then I'd exercise those options to cover my short. I'd pay a few percent for the privilege of protecting myself, but I felt the Bolivar would devalue significantly.

"Two hundred thousand Bolivars?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"My worst-case scenario is I lose a few percent to insurance; the upside is potentially huge."

"You're that sure? The loss would amount to almost the entire amount of your special bonus."

He was right. I was betting around $7,000 to make anywhere from five to ten times that amount in three months. And, if the devaluation was even more severe, it might be as much as fifteen to twenty times.

"It would. I am in no way uncertain. I, as they say, put my money where my mouth is."

"How'd you twig to this?"

"A comment in an article about the Contra insurgency in Nicaragua mentioned that oil-dependent Latin American countries were suffering with the lower oil prices, which are down by more than a third from their 1980 highs. They specifically mentioned Pemex, but I know Venezuela is dependent on oil exports, so I did some research. You have my analysis, and you'll see my trade on your screen when you sign on. It's your call."

"Jesus, Kane! It's your first day!"

"So I should put my wingtips up on my desk, drink coffee, and flirt with Anna?"

He laughed, "No! But telling me to short a strong currency less than an hour after you started your new position is gutsy."

"Isn't that what you pay me for?"

"It is," he replied with a smile. "I'll order lunch, and you can show me how to use the new terminal."

"OK."

"You found the Bolivar, so find me other currencies that might be in the same boat and which haven't weakened yet."

"Will do."

I went back to my desk and began my research. Just after the markets opened, I received trade confirmations for the trades I'd entered earlier and updated my portfolio spreadsheets to indicate the changes. I had to create a new formula for the protected short I'd created in the Bolivar, but that didn't take much time away from my research.

At noon, Mr. Matheson called me in for lunch of breaded steak from Ricobene's, and I explained how to use the Bloomberg terminal and gave him the 'cheat sheet' I'd created that listed the important key combinations and sequences he would need.

"This is a real game-changer," Mr. Matheson said when we finished.

"When I used it this morning, I began wishing for a way to search the Wall Street Journal. Heck, even an index of Journal Articles would be helpful. We have back editions in the archives, but they're kind of useless without an index. The only way I'd know where to find something is a reference in a research report or analyst note."

"There is Dow Jones News/Retrieval, but when we looked at it two years ago, it wasn't very good. It was also expensive, at something like $2.50 per minute, plus a monthly fee, plus phone charges."

"I've heard of another service," I said, "but I don't know anything more than that it exists. There's a company that offers the ability to search all federal court rulings, and at least some state rulings, called Lexis. They also have a service for journalists called Nexis, but I don't know anything at all about it except that it exists."

"How did you hear about it?"

"My attorney friend told me about Lexis and how his paralegal uses it. It works similarly to our Bloomberg terminals but uses IBM terminals. It can be used to search for anything in federal or Illinois court cases. He mentioned the same company has a similar service for newspapers."

"Do me a favor, check to see if Dow Jones News/Retrieval has changed their pricing model and has more information, and also look into the service you mentioned. Get pricing, and maybe arrange for a demonstration. If you think it's worthwhile, let me know, and we'll figure out what to do from there."

"Will do. Did you move on the Bolivar?"

"Yes. About thirty times what you did, and the same way, with a protective call. It kicked off a mini-trend of others who saw the trades and figured we knew something. That could snowball and might even force the outcome you predicted. You know how that works, right?"

"Yes, shorting the currency puts pressure on the central bank involved to do one of three things -- buy defensively, raise short-term interest rates, or devalue. Buying defensively requires significant outlays of foreign reserves, and Venezuela doesn't have enough to fight for long, especially with oil prices falling. Raising interest rates won't help because investors who see the risk will fear default or devaluation. A G7 country could defend its currency, but basically, no other country which didn't have massive gold reserves could do it for long. That leaves exactly one option."

"You've paid attention!" Mr. Matheson said approvingly. "That's something for you to watch for. You want to see who's selling and what they're selling each day. The key is finding the trend as early as possible so that we ARE the trend, not riding it. We can make money riding the trend, but the real money is being the trend."

"The elephant parade analogy," I replied. "Is there any currency you wouldn't put under pressure?"

"No. Granted, the combined assets of every trading firm in the world couldn't budge the US dollar if we tried, but almost any other one is vulnerable. What moves the dollar?"

"War, oil prices, trade imbalances, and interest rates, none of which gives anyone much leverage. We'd need to be OPEC."

"Those fuckers have screwed with us too many times, but it's hard to do anything short of invading the entire Middle East."

"World War III."

"That is the problem, and the bastards know it. Anyway, I have a call I need to make."

"Then I'll get back to work. Thanks for lunch."

I left and went back to my desk and spent two hours finding information on both Dow Jones News/Retrieval and Nexis. Both services would be useful, especially Dow Jones, as they had searchable articles from the Wall Street Journal on their computers. I collated all the information for both services in a spreadsheet and made a comparison list. I had to set it aside so that I could do further research for my morning analyst note, and by 5:00pm, I was mentally exhausted.

I had known hard physical labor from the time I was fourteen but had never realized, even taking classes, how tiring mental exertion could be. That had surprised me, as I'd never considered thinking to be hard work. I wasn't physically tired because I'd basically been sitting on my butt all day, and thinking about that reminded me that I needed to start going to the gym in the Hancock Center three times a week, or I'd start gaining weight and be really out of shape in no time.

I left the office, rode the passenger elevator down to the lobby, then took the stairs to the garage. I drove to University Village, parked just down the street from Violet's house, and walked to the door. I rang the bell, and she opened the door almost immediately.

"WOW!" she exclaimed. "You look really nice!"

"Thanks. This is one of the new suits I told you about."

"It's awesome! Come in; dinner's almost ready."

I went into the house and sat down at the kitchen table while Violet put the finishing touches on dinner.

"Did you speak with Bev?"

"Yes, and while I can't go into details, you were right in that there is someone involved she didn't want anyone to know about."

"I may be naïve, but even I know it takes a boy and a girl to make a baby!"

I laughed, "Yes, of course! It wasn't that there was another guy, it was that she kept that completely secret and wants to continue to keep it secret."

"Why?"

"It's complicated, and I really can't go into it because I promised Bev not to reveal anything."

"But who would I tell?" Violet asked.

"It's not about you," I replied. "It's about my promise. If I made a promise to you, you'd expect me to keep it, right?"

"Yes. And you're right; I shouldn't have asked."

"It's OK."

We had a nice dinner, and after I helped with the dishes, we headed to class. I walked Violet to her classroom, then walked to mine.

"WOW!" Teri gasped. "You look really nice in that suit! Even better than the one last week!"

I almost laughed because nobody at Spurgeon had said a word, but basically everyone else had noticed. It really was a uniform at work, and I'd have been noticed if I hadn't been wearing one. Tony didn't wear expensive suits, but he had, as far as I was aware, no desire to trade or manage money and, as such, didn't have a reason to spend the money.

"Jesus, Teri!" Troy exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "Drool much!"

"As if you don't drool over Laurie Newsome! And not just drool!"

"Sis!" he growled in protest.

I did laugh at that because her implication was clear.

"Tailored, right?" Troy asked. "It fits perfectly."

"Yes," I replied. "I started my new job today, and this is basically the dress code for anyone who wants to move up."

"Remember us little people when you become a zillionaire!" he requested.

I smiled and nodded because the professor chose that moment to step up to the lectern. I quickly pulled my notebook from my bag, along with my textbook and calculator, grabbed my mechanical pencil, and began taking notes. Just over an hour later, class ended, and I gathered my notebook, textbook, calculator, and pencil and put them in my satchel.

"See you on Wednesday," I said to Troy and Teri, then headed to meet Violet for our usual coffee and pie before heading home.

January 25, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Tuesday morning, I wrote my daily analyst report based on the data I had gathered on Monday afternoon and my assessment of the world condition. What I'd discovered so far was that Chile would continue to devalue their currency, though not as severely as had happened the previous September; that the Philippine peso was vulnerable and likely to come under increasing pressure; that Zaire was certain to have a shock devaluation at some point; the Tanzanian shilling was under pressure; and, in the opposite direction, the Mexican peso would strengthen against the dollar.

"There's no play in Zaire," Mr. Matheson said when he called me into his office later in the morning. "The official rate is around 6.5 to 1, while the black market rate is 30 to 1. Nobody is buying. I made a move on Chile last year, before the big devaluation, and there isn't much play there. Keep an eye on the Philippine peso and the Tanzanian shilling.

"Your analysis of Mexico is spot on, and I'm going to change the mix of our basket of currencies to reflect that. Keep a very close eye on that because as oil prices come down, it's going to put pressure on the government as the current account balance weakens. I want you to take a look at gold and silver, please; the run-ups seem out of line with market conditions."

"You're considering large short positions?"

"Yes. I need an analyst note to back my play."

That indicated that he had some kind of information he couldn't use to justify a trade, very likely from someone in London. And that information was not actionable, perhaps because it was 'inside'. If I could independently develop a case for a large short counter the market, he could act without risking regulatory scrutiny.

"OK," I replied.

I had lunch with Haley, then spent the afternoon researching and analyzing the run-up in gold and silver prices and discovered exactly what Mr. Matheson needed. First, the gold price was a surrogate for the interest rate on Eurodollars, and financing rates for bullion were calculated based on the Eurodollar rate.

Those rates ran about ten percent on an annualized basis, which meant the spread between spot bullion and a one-year futures contract should be about ten percent, which compensated the party holding the bullion for the cost of holding it. The spread was widening, which indicated the market expected prices to rise, as investors were paying a premium -- around 12% instead of the 10% indicated by the Eurodollar rate.

The fundamentals didn't support that, and at some point, the spread would narrow, which was the signal to get out, but anticipating that signal was the way to make significant money. Looking at trading patterns, I saw significant retail sales, mostly in coins, which indicated the masses were buying the trend. That was a normal pattern in any run-up and was usually the sign a run-up was about to peter out.

I wrote an analyst note and took it to Mr. Matheson just before 4:00pm.

"This is excellent work, Kane, and it'll keep the CFTC off my ass. I'll have Chamberlain, Vandenberg, and Warren start selling gold and silver futures tomorrow, but in a way that won't attract attention. If we make too big a move, too fast, it'll spook other traders. Some will catch on, and that's OK, as long as the herd doesn't figure it out for a month or so."

"Not likely," I observed. "They only look at the prices and see them rising. They don't look at the spreads, and by the time the price signal is there, the only thing that will happen is the herd will stampede right off the cliff."

"Every fucking time."

I left his office, returned to my desk, and spent the last forty-five minutes gathering data for my morning analyst report. I was very happy I'd been assigned currencies and precious metals, while Tony was focused on equities and Paige focused on fixed income. All three of us looked at various aspects of commodity prices, as those affected literally everything from the price of a box of cereal to international exchange rates.

Most of the trading done by Mr. Matheson's team was in FX, but literally every aspect of the financial markets, politics, the economy, and weather affected exchange rates and had to be taken into account. Tony was an excellent equities analyst, and having access to his reports would help me build value in my Cincinnatus Fund.

The last thing I did before leaving for the day was put in an order for my fund to sell five standard May gold contracts and five standard silver contracts. If everything went the way Mr. Matheson expected with precious metals and the way I expected with the Bolivar, I'd turn the $150,000 in my fund, about a third of which was mine, into close to $500,000. That would make it possible to earn even larger returns, as I'd be in a position to take advantage of opportunities that weren't possible with less capital. Of course, that paled to what Mr. Matheson would make for his clients and for the Spurgeon FX fund.

"How was your day?" Haley asked when we met in the lobby of the Hancock Center after work.

"Busy," I replied. "Yours?"

"Routine. You can pick up your gym pass tomorrow."

"Great! The only downside is three days a week, I'll eat lunch at my desk while I work so I can spend my lunch hour in the gym. What are we doing tonight?"

"How about The Berghoff? I checked, and there's nothing interesting playing at the theatre, but there's live music at Checkerboard Lounge in Bronzeville."

"Not to be 'that guy', but is it safe to go there?"

"That specific area? Yes. The Rolling Stones played there with Muddy Waters, Buddy Guy, and others about two years ago for the album Live at the Checkerboard Lounge, Chicago 1981. There are some very bad areas just north of there between 35th Street and 41st Street. You know IIT's campus extends to 35th, right?"

"Yes. I've met some people who attend school there."

Which reminded me to try to get in touch with Anala again. I really wished she had an answering machine because the times I'd called, the phone had simply rung without being answered, which meant she didn't know I'd called.

"Are you game?" Haley asked.

"Sure. Can we get in?"

"Nobody is going to card you in that suit!"

"Then let's do that," I said.

"What's the plan for Friday?" Haley asked as we walked down the stairs to the garage.

"Kristy will meet the three of us here, we'll have dinner at Connie's, then see a band called Batteries Not Included at Loyola."

"What do they play?"

"A mix of 70s covers and their own stuff," I replied.

"Have you overcome your discomfort with dating someone from the office?"

"I'm still cautious," I replied. "But I did ask you out for Friday with Jack and Kristy, which will be our first 'public' date, in the sense anyone will know about it. I mean, unless you've told anyone."

"Only Mrs. Peterson because it's a rule in Personnel that if we date someone from Spurgeon, we have to let her know. It makes sense, if you think about it, given what we have access to."

"It does. Out of curiosity, do you have some specific destination in mind, or are you in 'one day at a time' mode?"

"You mean, am I ready to marry? Not even close! Ask me in two or three years!"

"And until then?"

"Stages, right? Casually dating and seeing where things lead."

"Are you seeing anyone else?"

"I've been on a few dates over the past few months, but nobody has held my interest for more than one date."

"Except me?"

"Obviously! You're dating, too, right?"

"Yes. There are a few girls I go out with casually, but none of them are serious. You know I'm still trying to sort out the situation with my friend Bev."

"Which is why things are still just completely casual. Until you figure that out, it would be foolish to get too serious with anyone. Have you heard anything more from her?"

"No. I expect her to call in the next day or two to set up a time when we can have a private call. It really is a complicated mess."

"But there's absolutely no way the baby is yours, right?"

"Correct. It's impossible. I was here in Chicago when Bev conceived and had been for four months."

"And you have no idea who the father is?"

I did, but I felt it was better to demur, given my promise to Bev.

"And that's where I have to say that I can't -- at Bev's request -- reveal anything that she has or hasn't told me. I gave my word."

"That's really important to you, isn't it?"

"It is. Honesty, keeping your word, and loyalty to your friends are the standard I use to measure people. I really don't care about what they do or how they live their lives, so long as they aren't deceitful, keep their word, and help their friends."

We reached the car, and I opened the door for Haley. Once she was in, I shut the door, went around to the driver's side, and got in. I started the car, backed out of the spot, and headed for the exit so we could go to The Berghoff.

"What about a moral code?"

"What about it?" I asked. "For me, the only rules are that whatever you do has to be consensual and doesn't intentionally hurt anyone. I have zero use for busybodies trying to tell me what's right or wrong."

"The SEC?" Haley asked.

"Their rules are mostly about reporting, but also about not cheating. I wouldn't cheat anyway, but it's good to have the rules laid out clearly, so there isn't any question. In a way, it's no different from baseball or football. If I want to play, I have to follow the rules of the game. It's about ensuring everyone knows what is and isn't acceptable, not about moral judgments. Calling balls and strikes or confirming a first down or calling out of bounds have no moral value, it's a matter of defined rules.

"An example from work was buying Johnson & Johnson stock after the Tylenol debacle. I had someone accuse me of acting immorally and of profiting from death. I countered that what I was doing was showing my faith in J&J to solve the problem and recover. Nothing I could do with my money could bring those people back to life, and J&J didn't deserve to be punished for something that was done to them not by them. Buying or not buying the stock had nothing to do with morality."

"But would you make decisions based on morals?"

"You mean, for example, if I discovered a company was behaving unethically? Absolutely, because that behavior affects public perception and 'good will' and can drive down the value of a stock."

"So it's all about money, then?"

"Always! It was drilled into me both in my licensure courses and by the Spurgeon training materials that, above all else, I have a fiduciary duty to our clients. And that's legally enforceable against any of us with licenses and against Spurgeon as a firm. It would be unethical to do otherwise."

"I think I understand where you're coming from, and if you don't subscribe to any moral system, why do you object to what goes on at Spurgeon?"

"First, my main statement is that I won't do it for the reasons we discussed. What other people do is their business. I have two main objections. The first is that a good part of it is cheating, which calls into question someone's honesty and integrity, as well as their ability to keep their word. The second is that I know of at least one case where a secretary was fired for refusing to 'put out', and that calls into question whether or not it's truly consensual. I'm fairly certain you object for those same reasons."

"I do. Cheating is the uncrossable line in my book. You can never, ever trust a cheater. Never. I also think there are serious questions of consent, even if most of the girls say they're willingly sleeping with their bosses. But we've never had a single complaint, even from secretaries who have left."

"I'm curious, but are they paid off?"

"If they are, I wouldn't be told about it, and it would happen off the books."

"I suspect they are."

"I suspect you're right."

II. I Think They'll Accept

January 26, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Wednesday at noon, I went to the gym and spoke with the receptionist, who called a personal trainer to speak with me. A few seconds later, a perfectly fit blonde guy, perhaps three years older than I, came over to talk to me.

"I'm Tim Anderson, a licensed exercise physiologist and personal trainer," he said. "What are you looking to do?"

"Maintain my weight and muscle tone," I replied. "I have no plans to try out for any body-building competitions."

"Then I think the best thing for you is a circuit, including a mix of weight machines, free weights, and either a treadmill or elliptical machine. I'll set it for forty minutes, which will give you enough time to change beforehand and shower afterwards. If you're ready to start today, I can take you through a cycle and teach you to use the machines."

"I am. I have gym clothes in my bag."

"Do you have a lock for a locker?"

"I do," I replied, as I had the one I'd bought for the locker in the break room I'd used before I started as an analyst.

"Then let me show you the locker room. Get changed and come out, and we'll start with the machines."

He escorted me to the locker room, I changed, then joined him in the gym. I worked through six stations with each 'set' as he called them, lasting about five minutes, except for the elliptical, which lasted ten.

"What do you think?" Tim asked.

"It seems like a good mix of exercises," I replied.

"Three times a week should help you maintain your weight, as long as you eat decently, and it will also help tone your muscles. Do me a favor and step on the scale after your shower, and we'll keep track of your weight on a weekly basis."

"Sounds good," I replied.

"Then you're all set, and I'll see you Friday. Once more around, and if you're comfortable, then you just come in and do your thing and ask if you need anything. We'll do the weight checks on Fridays starting next week, and you can just let Kelly know so she can put it on your sheet."

"OK."

"The other thing you should do, if you haven't recently, is see a physician for a checkup. That's something you want to do on an annual basis."

"I'll do that," I agreed.

We shook hands, I went to the locker room, showered, put on my 'uniform', and headed back up to 29, where I ate my lunch at my desk while I did research. I was slowly working out my grading of the world situation with regard to war, trade, economics, and political stability, and decided on a Red/Orange/Yellow/Green/Blue scale, with a confidence factor of A through E. Figuring out what comprised each analysis, and how to grade it was going to take time, so I'd continue with my prose analysis and no ratings until I had worked it out.

Bev called mid-afternoon to say that she'd call me on Sunday before the Super Bowl from her friend Cathy's house, because she could have total privacy there. She didn't say anything more, and I didn't want to press her when she wasn't in a position to speak freely.

After the call, I resumed my work, and I found nothing that contradicted my analysis of the previous two days. Just before 5:00pm, Bill Wyatt called to say that he had another house to show me. I had limited free time, but I arranged to see the house first thing on Saturday morning before I went shopping. I asked about the first house I'd seen, and it hadn't sold, and so far, there hadn't been any offers better than the one I'd made.

At 5:00pm, I left the office and headed to Violet's house for dinner. One thing I needed to do was buy several pairs of shorts and T-shirts for the gym, as otherwise I'd be doing laundry three times a week so as not to have overly smelly gym clothes. That was something I could do on Saturday morning before I saw Clara.

Violet and I had our usual nice meal, did the dishes together, then headed to Circle for our classes.

"Are you doing anything Sunday?" Troy asked after we greeted each other.

"I'm having some people over for a Super Bowl party," I replied. "You and Teri are welcome if you want to join us. Speaking of that, where is she?"

"The ladies'. As for Sunday, we're having a party at my parents' house, so we can't really bail on that. I'm curious, but are you seeing anyone?"

"Not seriously," I replied. "But I'm straight."

Troy laughed, "Not for me! For Teri! I was asking because she totally has the hots for you!"

"Most brothers don't try to get dates for their sisters," I replied with a grin.

"Most brothers aren't twins! And she was worried you were seeing someone seriously."

Things were getting more and more complicated because Ellie wanted to see me regularly, as did Clara, I was seeing Haley a few times a week, and seeing Lily occasionally as well. I also had to reserve time for Violet, as well as Jeri's dinners and for Marcia, though I would have Sundays free after my weekend in Wisconsin with Marcia. I also wanted to see Beth again, and I was sure that Sophie, Ivy, and Deanna would be in touch, not to mention Esme, Katy, and the girls from Loyola.

As Deanna had put it succinctly, I was 'drowning in pussy', and something had to give. The question was 'what?', or rather 'who?' I'd eliminate, and if I wanted to see Teri. The fact that she had red hair and green eyes, as well as a nice figure, certainly factored into my thinking. I need some time to think things through, and I decided that given how busy I was over the next two weeks, I could delay a decision about a date with Teri.

"It's not that I'm not interested," I replied. "It's just that I've been super busy and will be for at least for the next few weeks."

"She's not seeing anyone right now," he said. "So a few weeks will be OK."

Teri returned just then, and class started, so there was no real chance to talk, though until I had a chance to work through everything, it was better not to ask her out. When class ended, I said 'goodbye' to Troy and Teri, then headed to meet Violet for our usual coffee and pie.

"You seem preoccupied," Violet said about ten minutes into our time together.

"Sorry," I replied. "I was just thinking about how busy I am and that something has to give."

"Not our dinners or coffee, right?" she asked apprehensively.

"No," I said with a smile. "It's more about dating as well as time with my other friends."

The strange thing was that of all the girls, I enjoyed my time with Violet more than anyone else, and only Marcia actually came close. That was weird because sex wasn't a factor in either relationship, and as far as I could see, I would never be with either of them. Marcia, because we simply weren't compatible, and Violet, because of what had happened to her while she was growing up.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I preferred being with Shelly and Bianca, though sex was a major part of that relationship. It wasn't that I didn't like Ellie or Esme or Clara or whomever; it had more to do with how the relationships worked. In a way, my relationship with Marcia had replaced my relationship with Anala, though Marcia wasn't nearly as wise or as well-read as Anala.

"How many girls are you seeing?" Violet asked.

"Several," I replied. "It's all just casual. But I don't have time to see them as much as they would like. And please do not think I mean you when I say that. I prefer spending time with you to pretty much everyone else."

"You really mean that?"

"I do."

"Even though I can't..." she let the word hang for a minute, then said, "uhm, be your girlfriend?"

By pausing mid-sentence, she'd conveyed the meaning of 'girlfriend', which was always going to be a challenge for her -- intimacy. I wondered if a different counselor might make a difference at this point, now that she'd come out of her shell, at least to the point of hanging out with Lily occasionally, as well as doing things with me. I had no clue if Violet could ever truly recover, and Doctor Lochner had certainly implied strongly that she couldn't.

"I certainly hope I haven't given you the wrong impression," I said.

Violet smiled, "You haven't, but...I'm worried about losing you."

"I promised you that isn't going to happen and that any girl I have a serious relationship with will have to accept and understand that you and I are close friends."

"Sometimes I wish...wish that I was normal," Violet sighed.

"You are a wonderful young woman to whom something terrible happened. That doesn't make you 'abnormal'."

Violet smiled, "That's sweet of you to say, but if I was normal, we could...be boyfriend and girlfriend. That's what you thought could happen when we first met."

She was struggling with something Doctor Lochner had suggested would very probably be a challenge for the rest of her life and one she might not be able to overcome.

"I don't know exactly what to say to that," I replied. "I made assumptions that weren't correct, and I learned some important lessons."

"I just wish I could be like everyone else..." Violet sighed. "But...well, you know."

I nodded, "I do. I wish there was some way I could wave a magic wand and make what happened go away, but I can't do that. What I can do is be your friend and help you in any way it's possible for me to help."

Violet smiled, "Thank you."

We finished our pie and coffee, and I walked her home, where I received a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek before she went into her house. Once she was safely inside, I walked quickly to my car and headed home.

January 29, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Saturday, I was up early, as were Bianca and Shelly, so we could see the house Mr. Wyatt wanted to show us. Thursday and Friday had been routine at work, as had class on Thursday evening. Jack, Kristy, Haley, and I had a fun evening on Friday, with dinner at Connie's and then the concert at Loyola. I had taken Haley home afterwards, not wanting to move forward too fast, especially in light of trying to figure out what to do about my limited time.

Part of the problem was taking classes, but I felt that had to be a priority, even if it wasn't strictly necessary for my job. At a minimum, I needed to complete the math class and the statistics class, and beyond that, most of what it would make sense to take would cover things I was already learning at work, namely business and finance classes. I'd need to give it some thought over the Summer, as I'd concluded that no matter what happened with Bev, I didn't want to tie up two or three nights a week with class and set aside time for homework.

What I'd concluded was that the challenge was really with the girls who wanted some kind of deeper relationship -- Ellie, Haley, and Clara. I wasn't sure about Clara and wouldn't make any decisions about her until after our date later in the day, but, in the end, I felt seeing two girls was workable in the short term, but three was not. Haley would, at least in the short-term, get the most time -- lunch twice a week, plus Friday nights when we went out with Jack and Kristy. Saturday would be for the second girl, whoever it was, and Tuesday and Sunday would be open for friends or hook-ups.

There was one problem and one challenge with that plan. The problem was Jeri planning things for Friday nights, but I'd heard Gary say that his wife wasn't thrilled with them, and I was positive we could move them, preferably to Tuesdays. That was something to discuss with Jeri, and there was plenty of time before the February dinner to change the day. I made a mental note to do that.

The challenge was time for Violet, which revolved around hockey and baseball schedules. I could probably make sufficient time for those, but on occasion, I might have to use one of my 'date' nights for her, and that was OK with me and would actually give me an idea of whether or not the girl who was 'bumped' would be able to handle my friendship with Violet.

Of course, all of that might be upended if Bev came to stay with me in June or July.

"Lost in thought?" Bianca asked as we neared the house we were going to see on Morse Avenue.

"Just trying to figure out how to do everything I want to do with limited time. Classes are really the main blocking factor, so I'm taking the Summer off, which will help."

"Too many girls, not enough time?" she asked.

"Yes, but I also need to make time to see Dustin, Trevor, Tom, and Stuart, as well as my other friends. I think, after next Fall, I'm going to stop taking classes, at least until things sort themselves out."

"You mean having a steady girlfriend, right?"

"Yes. I mean, I could effectively do that without doing it now, if you know what I mean."

"But you don't want to give up access to all the awesome pussy!" Shelly teased.

"Something like that," I chuckled. "Obviously, at some point, I will, but I don't think that time is now."

"I'm still with Ellie on this one," Bianca said. "Why give it up? You aren't bound to some stupid religious moral code, and so long as you don't try to legally marry more than one woman at a time, nobody will give a rat's ass. Just ask a few girls to move into the house you're going to buy, and make it clear that you'll have other girls, too. Heck, even set a schedule! I guarantee you Juliette, Julianne, and Deanna would move in with us in a heartbeat!"

"Deanna?"

"I saw how she looked at you, and it wasn't the same as Sophie and Ivy. To them, you're just a good fuck, and if you aren't available, they find someone else and don't even think about it; Deanna sees you differently."

"As in, she wants to be my girlfriend?" I asked.

"I'm not saying she's ready to settle down because I'm sure she isn't, but she sees a possibility for the future that Sophie and Ivy don't see. Don't take this the wrong way, but to them, it's basically that you have a big dick and make them cum, and nothing more. I'd compare them to Lucy or Sylvia, whereas I'd compare Deanna to Julianne. She's another one who, in a few years, would likely be amenable to a long-term thing with you."

"And you? And Shelly?"

"Obviously, though, Shelly wants a traditional monogamous relationship."

"And so does Jonathan," Shelly said. "You keep trying to talk him out of it!"

"Obviously!" Bianca declared. "That doesn't suit my desires!"

We turned up the walk of the house, which meant the conversation had to be put on hold. That meant I'd have some time to mull over Bianca's suggestion, though something deep inside me still insisted on a traditional marriage. I pushed those thoughts aside and rang the bell. Mr. Wyatt came to the door and showed us into a house that smelled of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

"Nice touch!" Shelly exclaimed. "Baking cookies to make it smell like 'home'!"

"It's a standard seller's gambit," Mr. Wyatt said. "These sellers are motivated as they have a contract on a house being built in Naperville. As I said on the phone, this is comparable to the others you've seen, though with the added benefit of an attic bedroom or study, in addition to five bedrooms on the second floor. The owners previous to the current owners finished the attic when they had their sixth child."

"Count me right out of that!" Bianca declared. "I'm Catholic, not crazy!"

"According to whom?" I teased.

"OK, not THAT crazy!" Bianca declared.

"The other advantage this house has is a finished basement. And the listing price is only five percent more than the house on which you made the offer."

"How much work does it need?" I asked.

"The floors need to be stripped, sanded, and finished, and the boiler will need to be replaced in the next few years. The appliances are all about fifteen years old, and they're that avocado green that was so popular back then."

"Let us take a look, and I'll tell you my thoughts right away."

Bianca, Shelly, and I decided to start in the basement and work our way up to the attic. The basement was divided into two parts -- about a quarter of it was the mechanical plant -- boiler for forced hot water heat, the water heater, and the electrical distribution panel. The washer and dryer were in the same room, segregated by a half-wall and with shelves above them and a full bath next to them. The rest of the basement was a rec room, complete with a wet bar that would be perfect for entertaining. The current owners had a projection television set and a large screen for the projection at the far end, with couches and chairs arranged to make it almost like a movie theatre.

"If upstairs is even halfway OK, this is the place," Bianca declared. "Nothing else we've seen has an area to entertain like this one."

"So far, so good," I agreed.

We went up to the first floor, and the kitchen was functional, but the avocado green appliances just HAD to go. The dining room was large enough to accommodate a table that seated eight, the front room was cozy, and there was also a living room with a fireplace. We walked down a short hallway past a half-bath and went out into the reasonably sized backyard. There was a two-car garage, which was common for the area, and it was big enough for both my car and Bianca's, as well as yard tools, snow shovels, and the like.

We went back inside, climbed the stairs to the second floor, and found a nice master bedroom with a nicely appointed bathroom with relatively new fixtures, including a stall shower and a large whirlpool tub. The other four bedrooms were adequate, if a bit small, as there were four where normally, in this design, there would be three. Finally, we pulled down the attic stairs and climbed up to see a cozy room that could be a bedroom or a computer room.

"What do you think?" Shelly asked.

"I think it's the best of the houses we've seen," I said. "The only caveats are the downright ugly appliances and the boiler. The floors don't bother me, as I'll put down area rugs, and we can refinish the floors at any point before I decide to build something, which is probably at least five years. I'm going to make an offer for ten percent below list, given the cost of a new boiler."

"Will they take it?"

"Mr. Wyatt did say the sellers are motivated."

We went back down to the first floor and found Mr. Wyatt sitting at the dinette table in the kitchen.

"Ten percent under list," I said. "I'll sign an offer and write a check for earnest money."

"I'll get the offer to the listing agent today, and I'd expect a counter. How high will you go?"

I considered for a moment, then said, "The boiler is going to cost more than five percent of the asking price, and the appliances have got to go. I'll consider a counter, but I'm not inclined to agree, given the work that's needed, including the floors."

"OK. I'll let them know it's firm. You can close in forty-five days, right?"

"Easily. I can actually do thirty, given I've started my new position and could put in the mortgage request first thing Monday morning."

Mr. Wyatt filled out the offer sheet, I signed it, and then wrote out a check for $2000 and handed it to Mr. Wyatt.

"I'll call you as soon as I hear," he said.

We shook hands, and Bianca, Shelly, and I left the house for the walk home.

"You're really determined to pay the price you want to pay," Bianca observed.

"I'm in no rush," I replied. "We're still six months away from the end of the lease, and I can negotiate an extension with our landlord if necessary. At some point, we'll find the right house at the right price with a seller who will accept an offer which reflects the actual value of the house. There's no point for me to overpay."

"You're so totally disinterested," Shelly observed. "It's as if you don't care."

"He cares," Bianca countered. "But what he cares about is the deal, not the house. The house is just another asset among many. Right, Jonathan?"

"Yes. It's the same approach I take with investments -- it's not about being enamored, it's about the value proposition."

"It hasn't even been two years since you started," Shelly observed.

"The concepts aren't difficult," I replied. "The key is access to information and being able to correlate it and then make the correct moves. That's the difference maker and what makes or breaks a trader. Matheson has it and has proven it."

"You have it, too," Bianca declared.

"Making a few right moves is not 'having it'," I countered. "Mr. Spurgeon and Mr. Matheson have 'had it' for over a decade. A lot of guys are flashes in the pan and burn out quickly. It only takes one big mistake to wreck a career. Let's see where I am in two years. And that's not a lack of confidence because I believe I can do it, but the only thing that matters is returns."

"What's the scoop now?" Bianca asked.

"I need a trip to Venture for shorts and T-shirts for when I work out. After that, I plan to do the grocery shopping for the week, as well as pick up everything we need for tomorrow. After shopping, I'll have lunch, spend a few hours at home, and then go on my date with Clara."

"Is that going to continue, or is it just that you promised a second date?"

"It's the latter," I replied, "but that isn't mutually exclusive with it possibly continuing."

"In the Fall, you should see if the stats class you want to take is offered on Saturdays. Sure, that would blow basically the entire morning, but it would free up two or three nights a week."

"A good point," I replied.

"Your work pays for your classes," Shelly interjected, "so why not switch to Loyola? That would cut twenty minutes off your drive home."

It would, but I wasn't sure saving that amount of time was worth upsetting Violet. Yes, at some point, I'd stop taking classes, either because I no longer felt they were necessary or because I finished a degree, but that was different from transferring. And while it wasn't a deciding factor, it was a factor to consider.

"I'll think about it," I replied. "But honestly, with class from 7:00pm to 8:00pm, the evenings are already basically shot, given I have to do homework every night after class."

"Who's pressuring you?" Bianca asked.

"Me, mostly," I replied. "I mean, it's true a few of the girls have pushed for a more serious relationship or to see me more often, but I'm not concerned about 'losing' any of them. I know that might sound a bit crass, but, in the end, I haven't found anyone who I'd say is 'the one' that I simply cannot let go. If I did feel that way, then I'd behave differently because I'd have a different immediate goal."

"None of them have limited themselves to you, have they? I'm talking about the ones who are interested in a serious relationship right now."

"I honestly don't know for sure because it's not really my business, but I don't think any of the ones who want a serious relationship are seeing anyone else. But I've made zero promises, mostly because I needed to sort things out with Bev."

"Again, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been saying that for as long as I've known you. Would you like to hear my opinion?"

"I would."

"If, after three or four years, you haven't decided, there is something deep inside you that says she's not the right girl for you."

"You mean going back to when we started fooling around?"

"Yes. But even if you limit it to after moving to Chicago, that should tell you something."

"That I'm too focused on myself?" I asked.

"Or are you focused on a specific goal and are doing what's necessary to achieve it? You left Ohio to create a new future for yourself, and you were willing to make the sacrifices necessary to do that."

"Including my relationship with Bev."

"OK, assuming that's true and not just the typical cluelessness of teenage boys, what does that tell you? And, going further, did you really sacrifice it? Or did she bail without making any attempt to keep the relationship going?"

"I can't blame her for my complete insensitivity about moving."

"No, but you can accept that she's responsible for her own actions. Did she ask you to change your mind? Ask you if she could come with you? Say she'd wait a year to graduate, then move to Chicago? No offense, but instead of talking to you, she ran off to another guy; well, at least two other guys."

"Who she has sex with is no more relevant than who I have sex with," I said firmly.

"Sorry, it's not about 'stud versus slut', but about how she responded. In her position, I sure as hell would have asked you to reconsider, and when it was clear you wouldn't, we discussed how to make it work! If she'd said she'd wait a year for you, asked you to come see her on holidays, and applied to colleges in Illinois, what would you have done?"

"Probably waited for her," I replied. "No, I'm sure I would have waited because we'd have discussed our relationship. But I can't blame her for what I did."

"No, you can't," Bianca said firmly. "But you can hold her responsible for her actions. She started seeing the other guy before you left, right?"

"Yes, though I didn't know that until after."

"Which should also tell you something about her."

Bianca had a point, and it was, ultimately, the thing that was bugging me the most -- that Bev had, as I understood things, cheated on Bob with Glen. I might be mistaken, but I had the strong impression that both Bev and Bob had believed they were a couple, and I didn't see Bev just casually fooling around. Except that she had.

That was totally her business, of course, but it did raise a question in my mind about how well I actually knew her. It wasn't what she did but how she went about it. Maybe it was true that I had no business knowing, but prior to April 1981, Bev and I had literally shared everything, had had no secrets, and I could always predict exactly how she was going to react, just as she could with me.

All of that said, I still felt as if I were judging her.

"It does," I replied quietly. "But it also calls my thinking into question -- am I holding her to a standard to which I wouldn't want to be held?"

"Jonathan," Bianca said firmly. "You're brutally honest, you keep your word, and as far as I can tell, have never misled anyone about anything. You want everyone to live up to that standard, and as you've said, it's your duty to do those things at work, with no exceptions. It is who you are, and you aren't being a hypocrite. Well, unless you're deceiving Shelly and me about your views on girls having multiple sex partners."

"I truly do not care who anyone has sex with, and truly don't care if the girl I marry is a virgin, and I'd give pretty long odds on that actually being the case. I'm fairly certain it's a mistake not to ensure you're compatible in that way before making a lifetime commitment."

"Or just have your harem!" Shelly teased. "Then you can have all the variety you want!"

"I'll tell you what," I said with a smirk. "You agree to sign up for the long term, and I'll give it serious consideration. But no marriage, just part of the harem!"

"You know that's not how I see my future," Shelly replied.

"Obviously, because it's not how I see my future. Does it have some attraction? Sure. Do I care what society thinks? Not much. But something in my innermost being is telling me to have a traditional marriage, even if I don't buy the religious underpinnings of that concept. But that's something I'll worry about a few years from now."

"Jonathan," Bianca said as we neared our house, "You aren't responsible for the situation with Bev; she is. Whatever you did, she made her own choices about how to respond. Don't do something that you may come to regret out of a false sense of responsibility."

She had a point, though I still felt I had enough responsibility that I couldn't simply dismiss it by saying, in effect, 'not my fault' and move on.

"A reasonable point," I replied.

"I want to say something that might upset you," Bianca said.

"Go on," I replied.

"I think your reaction has a lot to do with your mom and her struggles, plus your own challenges. You don't want that for Bev and Heather, and that is coloring your view of things."

"No doubt," I replied. "But it's part of who I am, and I don't see how I can simply set that aside."

"If you were the baby's father, that would be one thing; you aren't. The baby's father, whoever he is, has to step up and take responsibility. If Bev won't tell him, then it's on her, not on you."

"I hear you," I replied. "Just let it be for now, please."

We went into the house, and I saw the light on the answering machine flashing. I walked over, played the message, and then picked up the phone to return the call to Dustin.

"It's Jonathan; what's up?" I asked after he answered.

"I wondered if it would be OK to invite someone tomorrow."

"I think we can manage one more. Who?"

"My photography assistant, Carla. She overheard me talking to Archie and asked if she could tag along."

"I don't see why not," I replied. "Bring her along."

"Thanks."

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, then decided to call Jeri to see if we could reschedule our February dinner to Tuesday, the 22nd, and she was amenable. She promised she'd check with everyone else, and so long as nobody objected or had a conflict, we could move the date. I ended the call, grabbed the grocery list, and after a quick trip to the bathroom, Bianca, Shelly, and I headed out to do our shopping.

We stopped at Venture, where I bought four pairs of grey gym shorts and four blue T-shirts so I could limit doing laundry to once per week. After Venture, we stopped at the dry cleaners where I dropped off two suits and five shirts, then headed to Jewel to do our weekly grocery shopping and buy everything we needed for the Super Bowl Party. We weren't supplying everything, as each couple or single was bringing snacks and drinks, ensuring we had plenty. Jack, Kristy, Dustin, and Costas were kicking in for the burgers and brats.

Once we had everything we needed in two carts, we headed for the checkout. I paid but made a note of the total in my notebook, as Shelly and Bianca would cover part of it, paying me when they gave me their rent money on Monday. Sharing expenses would be something I'd have to discuss with Jack, but I was sure he'd be amenable to the solution Shelly, Bianca, and I had come up with, so it wasn't a concern.

Once we had put away all the groceries, I started a load of laundry, then the three of us had lunch. After lunch, I finished my laundry and reviewed my math textbook and notes for a test we'd have on Monday. Around 1:30pm, the phone rang, and I got up to answer it.

"Kane," I said.

"Jonathan, it's Bill Wyatt."

"Hi, Mr. Wyatt."

"I presented your offer to the listing agent, and he presented it to his clients. They asked for a day to think it over."

"OK. What's your take?"

"I'd say they'll try to counter, as I suggested earlier. I'll let you know when I hear."

"Thanks."

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, went upstairs to take a shower, then dressed for my date with Clara.

January 29, 1983, Western Suburbs of Chicago, Illinois

I arrived at Clara's house just before 3:00pm and was surprised when Allyson opened the door. She invited me in, and I took off my coat, hat, and gloves.

"I figured it was safer if you met my dad while I was here in case he thought about changing his mind."

"And here I thought you were more interested in giving your sister grief!" I chuckled.

"Oh, I am! But we have to keep a united front with our parents!"

"Does the fact that she didn't react the way you expected impact that?" I asked quietly.

"Oh, shut up!" Allyson said, laughing softly.

Allyson walked me into the living room, where her dad was reading the newspaper.

"Dad, you remember Jonathan, I'm sure," she said.

"I do," he said, putting down his paper and standing up.

"Hi, Mr. Crowley," I said as he extended his hand, which I shook firmly. "What time do I need to have Clara home?"

"No later than midnight," he said. "I understand you're going to dinner and a movie."

"Yes, Sir. Clara picked the movie, which is playing at the Tivoli Theater in Downers Grove."

"You work for Spurgeon Capital with Mark Benton, right?"

"We don't work directly together," I replied. "I'm an analyst on the FX Desk run by Murray Matheson, and I'm sure you know Mr. Benton is on the floor at the CBOT."

I knew I could use 'FX' instead of 'Foreign Exchange', given Mr. Crowley was a CPA and was good friends with Mark Benton.

"Clara says you're going to Circle part-time."

"That's correct. I'm taking a mix of classes that will help me with my job and in the future when I move up the ladder."

"I like ambition, but I want you to remember Clara is a Junior in High School."

I nodded, "I remember. I know that having graduated from High School makes a difference, but we are only about three years apart."

"It's not the age," he said. "It's the experience."

I nodded, knowing exactly what he meant and deciding it was best not to say anything in response.

"I'll let Clara know you're here," Allyson said. "She was just finishing in the shower when you rang the bell."

She went upstairs and about two minutes later, Clara came downstairs wearing faded jeans and a pink fuzzy sweater.

"I'm ready," she said. "Let's go!"

"Be home by midnight, Clara," Mr. Crowley said. "I've let Jonathan know that's your curfew."

"Yes, Dad!" Clara exclaimed. "I will."

"Then have a good time."

Clara and I went to the foyer, put on our Winter gear, and left the house. A minute later, I was backing out of the Crowley's driveway.

"Where are we headed?" I asked.

"We have a few hours before dinner," Clara said. "Let's stop by and say 'hi' to Marie if that's OK."

"Sure," I agreed. "I've been there twice, but it was some time ago, so I'll need directions."

"Turn left out of the subdivision," Clara said.

Six minutes and five turns later, I pulled into the Benton's driveway.

III. Maybe You Should!

January 29, 1983, Western Suburbs of Chicago, Illinois

"Hi!" Marie exclaimed when she opened the door. "Come in!"

We stepped into the house and took off our coats, hats, and gloves.

"Jenny is here, and we're making hot chocolate," Marie said. "Would you like some?"

"I would," Clara said. "Jonathan?"

"Yes, please."

We followed her to the kitchen, where she introduced her friend Jenny and then added more milk to the pot on the stove.

"Did you decide where to go for dinner?" Marie asked Clara.

"We haven't talked about it, but I was going to suggest Fuddruckers by the Fox Valley Mall."

"What's that?" I asked.

"They serve huge burgers or steak sandwiches and grind their own beef in the restaurant. You can watch through a large plate-glass window. They also bake their buns in the restaurant as well."

"Sounds great," I replied.

"Clara, can we tag along?" Marie asked.

"Jonathan?" Clara inquired, looking at me.

"It's up to you," I replied.

"Then I say 'yes'," Clara said.

A few minutes later, the milk was warm and Clara combined cocoa and sugar with the warm milk in the pot, and after whisking it, she poured it into four mugs. She handed us each a mug, then sat down at the table with us.

"Marie," Clara said, "my parents are home, yours are away, so could we borrow your bed?"

And suddenly, Clara's plan became clear. I had wondered why she wanted to visit Marie, but the answer to that wonder was immediately obvious from Clara's question. I'd assumed there wouldn't be a chance to fool around, and that hadn't bothered me, as I wasn't sure about Clara and I was prepared for this to be our only date. She had designs on me, which was a consideration, but she'd also made the point that she was too young to think about marriage, though she was interested in a boyfriend.

Marie laughed softly, "And the reason you showed up unannounced when you had a date becomes clear!"

That answered a question that had formed in my mind -- whether this had been planned in advance. It appeared not to have been, though it wouldn't have mattered to me one way or the other.

"Duh!" Clara exclaimed. "Can we?"

"Will you share?" Marie asked with a smirk.

Clara laughed, "If that's what it takes, I will. Jonathan?"

I absolutely had to tease Clara, and I thought about including Jenny in the teasing, but I knew literally nothing about her and didn't want to upset her.

"Together?" I asked with a goofy smile.

"I'm game if Marie is!" Clara exclaimed. "I told you I'd do anything you wanted! And I mean anything."

"I, uhm, would rather not," Marie said. "It's a private thing. I just want a chance to be with him once more."

"No pressure, Clara," I said quickly.

"Then finish your hot chocolate, and we'll go upstairs!" Clara declared. "Marie can have what's left when I'm done with you!"

The hot chocolate was too warm to down in a couple of gulps, so it was five minutes before Clara and I went up to Marie's room. Clara closed the door and immediately began taking off her clothes, so I followed suit. When we were naked, we embraced and kissed deeply. Clara broke the kiss after a minute, pulled down the comforter on the bed, then grabbed my hand and tugged.

"What would you like?" I asked.

"I'll blow you, then you lick me and fuck me, then Marie can have you, if you're still conscious!"

"I don't think there's much risk of being unconscious, but you're welcome to try!"

"Then turn on your back!"

I did, and Clara wasted no time taking me in her mouth and giving me a very sexy, very pleasurable blowjob. She got me close, then surprised me by releasing me and moving up for a sexy French kiss. After the kiss, she moved down again, but the urgency was gone, allowing Clara to extend the blowjob. She repeated that cycle twice more until I was literally aching to cum. Clara obviously knew that and had dragged it out as long as she could before finally allowing me to cum. I came hard, firing jet after jet into her mouth as she sucked and swirled her tongue around my hypersensitive glans.

When my orgasm had passed, Clara slowly licked me clean, then moved up for a sexy French kiss.

"Best blowjob ever?" she asked smugly.

I chuckled, "It was fantastic," I replied. "But if I say it was 'best', then there's no room for improvement!"

Clara laughed softly, "And you want me to keep practicing and improving?"

"I'm nowhere near as dumb as I look!" I replied with a grin.

"Just think about a future where you can have blowjobs like that any time you want, have access to the tightest pussy available, with a girl who will do literally anything you ask and let you put it anywhere you want, whenever you want!"

"Enticing," I replied. "But relationships are about more than great sex."

"Obviously, but lousy sex would be a turnoff, right?"

"It would certainly make me extremely wary of a relationship," I replied. "And I'd probably break things off if things didn't improve with practice."

"You need to practice with your tongue!" Clara demanded impishly.

"So I'm not good enough?" I asked.

"Practice makes perfect, right? You'll get better every time, just as I will!"

"I shall endeavor to reach the pinnacle of pussy eating!"

"Make me cum, then fuck me for three minutes, then pull out, lick me until I cum, fuck me for three minutes, lick me again, and repeat! It'll last a long time, and I'll have tons of orgasms!"

"I'll see what I can do," I chuckled. "How did you come up with that?"

"Kelly!" Clara declared.

Kelly's idea actually worked well, so despite the very tight fit and Clara's wonderful muscle tone, I managed to cycle five times before I finally came, pumping cum into Clara's spasming pussy, which squeezed me tightly, enhancing the pleasure such that it was almost blinding. I didn't pass out, but the orgasm was tremendous.

"That was awesome!" Clara declared. "And I bet it was awesome for you!"

"It was," I agreed.

"I promised the best!"

And, honestly, I'd have to say she'd delivered on her promise, though I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of telling her that, at least at this point.

"And yet, there's always room for improvement!"

Clara laughed and kissed me, "I suppose you should wash so Marie can have her turn. I'll take a quick shower, and you can take yours after you're with Marie."

"OK," I replied.

We went across the hall, naked, to the bathroom, where Clara got into the shower and rinsed off while I used a washcloth to clean my face and groin. When we finished, the two of us went back to the bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched Clara dress, after which she left the room. Two minutes later, Marie came in and shut the door.

"We don't have a ton of time," she said. "Can we do what we did last when we were together? Sixty-nine for a bit, then fuck until you're almost ready to cum, then sixty-nine?"

"I have no objections to that request," I declared.

She quickly undressed, and we got into bed, avoiding the relatively large wet spot Clara had left on the right side of the bed.

"Are you and Clara going to be a couple?" she asked.

"One day at a time," I replied. "This is our first actual date, and the only time we've had to talk was in the car on the way over. Why?"

"Just curious. She wants that, you know."

"I know," I replied. "We'll see where things are after our date tonight. Does that change anything right now?"

"NO WAY!" Marie exclaimed.

She turned, straddled my face, lowered her pussy to my lips, and took my glans into her mouth. We sucked and licked each other until she had cum, then we switched so Marie was underneath me. I pushed into her, she wrapped her legs around my lower back, and we fucked hard. Marie had three orgasms before I felt the urge, so we quickly switched to sixty-nine, and I licked her while she sucked me until I came. Immediately after the last jet, she released me, turned, impaled herself on my still rigid shaft, and bent down to exchange a furious French kiss while she brought herself off by grinding against me.

"That was out of this world," Marie sighed, breathing hard as she stretched out on top of me.

"I very much enjoyed it," I said, squeezing both of her butt cheeks.

"We should probably shower," Marie said. "I'm glad I got to do it with you again!"

"Me, too!"

We got out of bed and went across the hall to the bathroom. This time, I got into the shower as well, and Marie and I enjoyed washing each other. We dried off, and with towels wrapped around us, we walked out of the bathroom.

"Marie, got a sec?" Jenny asked from just down the hall.

I had a pretty good idea of what that conversation would be about, but I continued into the room. I weighed putting on my clothes and decided to wait until Marie came in, which she did about two minutes later.

"Jenny was wondering if she could have a turn," Marie said. "I might have told her how great you are and how huge you are while you and Clara were together."

"Might?" I asked with a grin.

"Did! She's not a virgin, and she's on the Pill. She's eighteen and a Senior. If you aren't interested, she won't be upset, but if you are..."

Jenny was about six inches shorter than I was, with long brown hair. She had a nice figure with large breasts and wide hips and had what might be called a 'farmer's daughter' look -- not pretty, like Clara and Marie, but cute.

"What did Clara say?" I asked.

"Jenny said she asked Clara and Clara said it was OK. I'm sure she did. We're all friends."

I considered just how crazy things were and how nearly every time I was with a girl, another girl basically threw herself at me. It had happened with Marie and, more recently, with Jasmine and several girls before them, including, as I thought about it, Clara. As was nearly always the case, I couldn't think of a reason not to, so, of course, I would.

"She's welcome to come in," I said.

"Make it great for her!" Marie declared.

"I'll do my best!"

She left, and Jenny came in and shut the door behind her.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," I replied. "Marie said you were interested in fooling around."

"She and Clara seemed pretty happy, and I decided I wanted to experience for myself what my friends were bragging about. "

"I'll do my best to live up to their accolades."

"Can I see it?" she asked.

I nodded, stood up, and dropped the towel on the floor.

"Jesus!" she breathed, then said, "I like to be on top."

"That's fine with me," I replied.

"Then lie on your back!"

I did, lying across the queen-size bed, which let me avoid both wet spots, and Jenny took off her clothes. She got into bed and straddled my waist, then bent down to kiss me. Jenny's lips parted, our tongues touched, and she began flexing her hips, grinding against me while her nipples rubbed my chest. After a few minutes, I felt dampness, and Jenny began sliding along my flaccid shaft.

Soon after she began doing that, I began to harden, and when I was fully erect, Jenny lifted up, grasped my shaft, rubbed my glans along her labia, then held me upright while she slowly impaled herself on me, groaning into my mouth as she did so. When I was fully inside her, Jenny sat up, put her hands on my shoulders, moved so her nipple touched my lips, and began grinding her clit against my pubic bone. I took the hint and sucked her nipple into my mouth and lashed it with my tongue.

Jenny rode me gently for a time but then began moving faster and faster, varying her motions forward and back, up and down, and side to side, until she groaned and her pussy spasmed around my shaft. When her orgasm had passed, she slowed again, and we repeated the cycle until she came. After her second orgasm, she focused on getting me off, which she did, managing to time it so that we came at the same time, much to our mutual delight.

"Damn," she breathed, then shifted and bent down so we could kiss again.

After a bit of kissing, we got out of bed and went to the bathroom for a shower. I'd already had one but did need to rinse off, and I very much enjoyed soaping Jenny's large breasts, which I did from behind. When I washed between her legs, I made sure to rub her clit, and when I went to wash her legs, Jenny grasped my hand and redirected it to her clit. I pressed a finger into her and brought her off once more.

After she'd cum, Jenny turned, kissed me, then dropped to her knees and gave me a nice blowjob, swallowing my cum, before kissing me. We finished our shower, dried off, then went back to the bedroom to put on our clothes.

"I know a dozen girls who'd each give their left ovary for a chance to fuck you," she said as we finished dressing.

"Good to know!" I replied with a grin. "Though I'm not sure Clara would be OK with that."

"Probably not," Jenny agreed. "But if you guys decide not to be a couple, let Marie know, and I'll line 'em up for you, so long as I can have a turn for each girl!"

"Tempting! Very tempting!"

We exchanged a quick kiss, then went downstairs. The girls had a brief private chat, then Clara asked to speak to me, so we went into the other room.

"They're happy! They both would love to see you again! And Kelly would, but she has a boyfriend, so I know that's out."

"It is. What happened was totally unplanned?"

"Yes. She told me this morning her parents were going to be in La Crosse overnight, and because there was no other way we were going to be able to do it, I decided we'd stop in and see if she'd let us use her bed. The rest you know because you were there."

"And you're OK with it?"

"They both asked, and we aren't a couple. Besides, I said I'd do anything, and I meant it."

"Out of curiosity, would that be true if we were a couple or were married?"

"Don't push your luck!" Clara declared.

"I did have to ask," I chuckled.

"Because you're a guy!" she said mirthfully. "Is that something you want?"

"You mean, do I believe in traditional relationships? I think that's the most likely outcome for me, not because I'm religious, but because I feel it's the best option."

"What would it take for you to be my boyfriend?"

"Time," I replied. "I have some things I need to work out before I make any commitments."

"This isn't a complaint, just a question -- is it because you want to sleep with other girls?"

"Not specifically, but I want the freedom to develop and explore relationships before I make any commitments to anyone. Will I have sex with other girls? Yes. Is that the reason for saying 'not yet'? No. Does that make sense?"

"You're afraid of being tied down?"

"Not in the sense that it's something I don't want eventually, but I'm twenty and just don't see making what amounts to a lifetime commitment for a few years, at least. And if we were to become an exclusive couple, wouldn't you assume that was the destination?"

"I suppose I would. But that doesn't bother me the way it seems to bother you."

"It's more that I'm cautious. If I'm going to make a lifetime commitment, I need to be absolutely sure that I've made the right decision, and that takes time. Remember, this is only our first real date, so I'd at least like to see you a few times before we have this discussion again. Does that work for you?"

"Well, if I say 'no', that's going to be the end of it, which is not what I want. So, yes, going on a few dates before we discuss this again is fine. I'm glad you want to see me again after today!"

"I'm super busy because of work, school, and homework, but next Saturday would work for me if it works for you."

"Yes! Yes! A thousand times, yes!"

"A single 'yes' will do," I chuckled. "And just so we're on the same page, the following weekend, I have plans. But we'll figure that out next Saturday."

"Do you want me to come into the city? I'm sure my dad will let me borrow the car once he sees you bring me home on time."

"That would be fine. Are you going to want to do anything besides fool around?"

"Is it a problem that I like doing it with you?" Clara asked impishly.

"Not at all, but a relationship is about more than just amazing sex."

"We can do something besides that," Clara said. "I don't want you to feel that's all that it is, just that it's so good that you'll come back for more!"

"You don't have to worry about that!" I replied. "So let's see if we're compatible in other ways and if we want to spend time together besides in bed. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," Clara agreed.

We went back to the kitchen and let Marie and Jenny know we were ready to go, so the four of us left the house together. Dinner at Fuddruckers was great, and the burgers were indeed huge. From there, we dropped Jenny and Marie at Marie's house, then headed to Downers Grove to see the movie. Cat People was interesting and had plenty of nude shots of Nastassja Kinski, a sexy German actress. After the movie, we stopped for ice cream, then I took Clara home, walking her to the door just before 11:00pm, a full hour before her curfew. We exchanged a hug and a quick kiss, and she went inside. I walked back to my car, got in, and headed home.

January 30, 1983, Super Bowl Sunday, Chicago, Illinois

I slept in on Sunday, getting up just before 9:00am. After a shower, I dressed in sweats, then went downstairs to have a light breakfast, knowing I'd be eating quite a bit later in the day.

"Morning!" Bianca exclaimed, coming into the kitchen in a knee-length sleep shirt about five minutes later.

"Morning," I replied. "I'll go to White Hen to get the ice when I finish my breakfast."

"OK. I double-checked, and we have everything we need. Do you have any plans before everyone arrives around 4:00pm?"

"No. I don't need to pick up Violet because Lily is bringing her and will take her home as well."

I finished eating, downed a cup of coffee, then headed to White Hen, where I bought four bags of ice. Back home, I filled the four coolers, and we loaded one of them with beer and pop. The other three coolers were for drinks others would bring. I spent an hour studying for my Monday test, finishing just before the phone rang. I was sure it was Bev, so I went straight up to my room and answered.

"Kane."

"Hi, Jonny," Bev said, sounding very subdued.

"Hi. How are you?"

"Not good."

"Did you decide what to do?"

"Yes. Will you help me?"

"I promised to help in any way I could."

"And you promise you'll keep everything I tell you secret?"

"I won't lie to the government because I could lose my securities license, but otherwise, yes."

"Will you lend me some money?" Bev asked.

"Of course," I replied. "Will you tell me why you need it?"

"If I say 'no', would you still lend it to me?"

If it had been anyone but Bev, I'd have instantly said 'no', but I was positive that saying 'yes' to Bev would instill trust, and she would tell me.

"I said I'd help you, Bev. And I'll lend you even if you don't feel you can trust me enough to tell me."

Bev sighed deeply, "You won't like it, but it's what I have to do."

"Just tell me," I replied.

"Do you remember the McGills?"

"The airline pilot and his wife, right? With a daughter a grade behind you?"

"Yes. He used to work for Comair, but right after you graduated, he went to work for TWA in St. Louis. I'm going to go live with them."

"But why, Bev?" I asked though I had a pretty good idea as to her reason.

"I can't tell anyone else who Heather's dad is," she sobbed. "I just can't."

She composed herself, then continued, saying, "Mrs. McGill doesn't work, so she can help with Heather. Tammy is going to Washington University and is living at home, so she'll be around, too. Mr. McGill can help me get a job, and once I'm settled, I'll start school again."

"I'm not sure running away is a good solution," I replied. "But if you're going to leave Goshen, why not come here?"

"I thought about it, but..." she sighed deeply, "you know the truth. And I need a fresh start."

"I'm not judging you," I said, suddenly worried that she was going to cut contact with me, too.

"I know," she replied, "but the situation with Glen and your mom...it's just impossible."

"I thought about that," I replied. "You had a brief affair with Glen, right?"

"We were together twice," she replied, sniffing.

"And that was obviously before Heather was born, and my mom didn't start dating Glen until after that, so it wasn't as if he was cheating on her. I seriously doubt he gave her a list of his past lovers, so I doubt he lied to her about it, either. That said, he has to suspect he's Heather's dad. I mean, I'm positive my mom would have told him, and he's a math teacher, so if I can do the math, he sure could. Has he spoken to you at all?"

"No."

"And I'm going to ask an indelicate question, not because it's my business, but because this is such a mess already. Are you sure Heather is Glen's?"

"Jesus, Jonny!" Bev gasped. "What kind of girl do you think I am?!"

"It's not judging, Bev, but given everything that's happened, I think it's a legitimate question. You don't have to answer because it's none of my business, but if you're basing your decisions on Glen being Heather's dad, and he's not...well, you'd be repeating the same mistake you made with regard to Bob being her dad."

"He's the only one who could be her dad," Bev replied. "I'm positive."

"OK," I replied.

"I mean, I knew before it might be possible, but I just assumed it was Bob, probably at least partly because I didn't want it to be Glen."

"You said a fresh start," I said carefully. "Do you mean me, too?"

"Yes and no," Bev sighed. "I've made such a terrible mess of things that I just need time."

"I think that's a mistake," I counseled, "but if you're sure that's what you need to do, know you can pick up the phone any time, day or night, and call me, and I'll be there for you."

"I know."

"Should I send you a check?" I asked.

"Yes, but to the McGills."

"When are you leaving?"

"Tuesday morning. I'll just say I'm going out, and then Heather and I will drive to St. Louis. I'll be there early in the afternoon."

"Your parents are going to freak out," I replied.

"They're already freaked out. Dad won't leave me alone about who Heather's father is."

I could imagine Mr. Newton being extremely difficult to be around in Bev's circumstance, and if she wasn't going to reveal the truth, I had to support her leaving. I just wished she'd come to Chicago, where I could help her, and we could figure out the future together. I had my doubts about her, but she was still Bev.

"I don't doubt that," I replied. "But you do need to tell them something."

"I wrote a letter to my mom that I'll mail at the Goshen Post Office on Tuesday on my way to Missouri."

"Then let me have the address, please."

She gave the address, and I repeated it back to her.

"How much money do you need, Bev?"

"I promise I'll pay it all back."

"I know you will. How much?"

"$1500, which would basically let me cover all my expenses for about six months, and the McGills aren't charging me rent."

"What kind of job are you going to seek?"

"Mr. McGill arranged for me to talk to the Personnel Department at TWA. There are plenty of jobs that don't take much experience, and with even a semester of college, that gives me an advantage over someone who is just a High School graduate."

"And you plan to go back to school?"

"In the Fall. I can withdraw from UC tomorrow, and my dad will get most of the tuition money back. There are plenty of schools in St. Louis."

"Promise?" I asked.

"I promise, Jonny."

"I'll put the check in the mail tomorrow. You should have it by Thursday at the latest."

"Thanks. I'll pay you back as soon as I can."

"When you can reasonably do so, Bev, and not one second before. What do I say to your dad when he calls me?"

"You won't lie, will you?"

"No, I won't," I said firmly. "I'll simply refuse to answer, but that's only going to make him even angrier, and you know he'll go to my mom, and she'll insist I tell. I'll refuse, but it's going to be very uncomfortable."

"I'm sorry, but if they know where I am, they'll make things impossible for me."

"I'll take the heat," I replied. "I'll just say that you're safe, and when you're ready, you'll get in touch with them. Which you should do when you're ready. Do me one favor, please?"

"What's that?"

"Call me when you get to St. Louis so I know you're safe."

"I will."

"Promise me, Bev."

"I promise. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I need to go," Bev said. "I'll call you on Tuesday afternoon."

"OK. Drive safely."

"I will."

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, then went up to the computer room where I kept my checkbook in the desk. I wrote out a check to Bev, then put it in an envelope, addressed it, added a stamp, then put it in my satchel so I could mail it on Monday. I wasn't thrilled with the situation, but there was nothing I could do about it except support Bev as best I could, and in a way she'd accept. I headed back downstairs and had just reached the foot of the stairs when the phone rang, so I went to the kitchen to answer it.

"Kane," I said.

"It's Beth! How's my goy boy toy?"

"Fine, I think! 'Goy'?"

"Singular of '«goyim»'", which I think I explained.

"You did. He's fine. What's up?"

"What are you doing today?"

"Hosting a Super Bowl party," I replied.

"Oh, that's right; that's today."

"Not a sports fan?" I asked.

"Have you seen the movie Airplane?"

"Yes."

"Remember the request for 'light reading material'?"

"Vaguely."

"The old lady was offered a single-sheet leaflet of 'Famous Jewish Sports Legends'."

"I didn't get that joke at all."

"Jews are known for owning sports teams, not playing sports. I have better things to do than watch grown men playing kids' games!"

"Not everyone is a football fan," I observed. "So I totally get it, but if you aren't doing anything, come hang out with us. You don't have to pay attention to the game."

"That wasn't the kind of action I was interested in!"

I considered the situation, and given I knew Lily couldn't stay because she was taking Violet home and nobody else had suggested getting together after the game,

"If you can tolerate being up at 5:30am so I can get to work by 7:00am, you could spend the night."

"What time does the game end?"

"Most likely sometime between 8:30pm and 9:00pm."

"How about I show up at 9:00pm? I'll bring a bottle of wine, and we can use your tub."

"I'll see you around 9:00pm, then. Park in the driveway behind the house. It's OK if you block the garage because we'll be leaving at the same time."

"Cool! See you then!"

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then joined Bianca and Shelly in the front room.

"Beth is going to come over after the game."

"Not a football fan, but a Jonathan fan?" Bianca teased.

"Something like that," I replied.

"How is Bev?"

"A mess," I replied.

"That's not your fault," Bianca said firmly.

"You say that, but things I did kicked off the entire sequence of events. It's like the guy who killed the Archduke kicking off a sequence of events that led to World War I."

"You're comparing taking the job with Spurgeon to an assassination?" Shelly asked.

"It sure seems to have killed my special relationship with Bev. But what I'm saying is that it's like Newton's Laws of Motion, where an object in motion stays in motion unless acted upon by some outside force."

"Isn't that her last name?" Bianca asked.

I chuckled, "Yes, it is. But seriously, things were cruising along, heading for an obvious conclusion, and I applied an outside force."

"In hindsight, though, right?" Bianca asked. "You didn't think about marrying Bev until after you moved, right?"

"Yes, but I always just assumed we'd always be together without putting any formal structure on it. I know you're concerned that I'm going to do something rash or ill-considered, but I'm not."

"You can't put your life on hold indefinitely," Bianca advised.

"I'm not. I promised Bev I'd always be there for her, but at this point, that promise is similar to the one I've made to Violet, which is never going beyond friendship."

"I obviously don't have all the information, but of all the girls you know, she's the one who's truly in love with you."

"I honestly can't respond to that comment in a meaningful way because of my commitment to Violet's privacy."

"Changing topics, are you going to get a projection TV for the basement of that house if you buy it?"

"It would be a shame to let the built-in screen go to waste!" I chuckled. "But one step at a time and the first thing that would have to be done is replace the boiler. The last thing we'd want is for the heat to go out in the middle of the Winter. That one fireplace won't heat the whole house."

"But you'll leave the floors?"

"Yes, though I was thinking about learning how to do it so we could do it ourselves. It seems like a fun, challenging project."

Shelly laughed, "Only you would call manual labor 'fun'!"

"It's what I did for four years before I moved here," I replied. "I feel as if I'm sitting on my butt all the time. Oh, wait, I am sitting on my butt all the time! That's why I started going to the gym three days a week. But it's all just speculation until they accept the offer if they do."

"You're WAY more patient than I'd ever be," Shelly said.

"Which is how, in the end, I'll pay what I want to pay, not what someone else wants me to pay. If it's obvious I want it and am willing to pay to get it, the owner has no incentive to negotiate even a penny lower than their list price. It's like what I've heard about car dealers -- you need to have three or four options so you can simply walk away, which is when the dealer will realize he has to actually negotiate in good faith. I've never done it, but I've read articles about it."

"Porsche? Lotus? Maserati?" Bianca asked.

I chuckled, "I doubt I could do '185 on any roads around here, so I think I'll pass on the Maserati. And the Lotus is probably outside my price range for a long time if I'd even ever really consider spending that kind of money on a car. The same is probably true for a Porsche. If I'm going to buy a sports car, it would be something like a Camaro Z28 or a 'Vette. But those aren't really practical in Chicago, so a BMW or Mercedes coupe would be a nice compromise -- power but also practical. But again, several years from now, at the earliest. The house is the priority, especially because it will appreciate in value."

"Everything is about money, isn't it?" Shelly asked.

"That's my job," I replied. "In fact, right now, it's about evaluating the expected value of any potential investment and finding ways to maximize profits. Done well, and we could see returns in excess of forty percent."

"Are you able to share what you've invested in recently?"

"I can always share what's in my own fund," I replied. "I shorted the Venezuelan Bolivar and also shorted gold and silver."

"That's where you sell something you don't own, right?" Bianca asked.

"For equities, that is, stocks, yes, generally. In this case, what I sold was futures contracts and protected myself with similar contracts called 'call options'."

"You're going to have to explain!" Shelly declared.

"A 'futures contract' is a financial instrument that is a promise to deliver something -- for example, gold, silver, or Bolivars in this case -- on a specific date at a specific price. A 'call option' is paying for the right to buy a specific thing -- again, for example, gold, silver, or Bolivars -- for a specific price on a specific day. The difference is that the futures contract is a firm commitment and will execute no matter what, while a 'call option' simply gives me the right to buy, but I don't have to.

"The 'call options' are basically an insurance policy and cost me around one percent of the value of the deal because the price is close to that of the underlying asset. I pay that fee no matter what. If the value of the underlying assets goes down by more than the cost of the 'call option', then I make money. If they go up, then my maximum loss is the cost of the insurance contract.

"The way it works out is that on April 29th, I either buy the underlying asset at market or exercise the 'call', depending on whether the price has gone up or down. I then deliver those assets to the counterparty on the futures contract. The counterparty pays me that day, and I have a set amount of time, usually three days, to deliver the asset. The counterparty might have done something similar to protect themselves, and so, in the end, it might all just wash out with only money changing hands, with no actual gold or silver being delivered. That's fairly common for precious metals."

"And how much do you expect to make?" Shelly asked. "I mean, if it's OK to ask that question."

"If all three pan out, my fund will turn a profit of between $250,000 and $300,000."

"HOLY SHIT!" she gasped. "IN THREE MONTHS?!"

"Yes. Now, only about a third of that is mine directly; of the rest, I'll get part of the profit -- 10% of any amount over the 8% hurdle from the client money I manage. Spurgeon gets a portion of that 10% as well."

"But how can you do that?" she asked. "I mean, you need millions to do that, right?"

"No. The only money I have to put up is for the insurance provided by the call option. So, in effect, I'm risking about $8000 against $250,000. Now, if the market doesn't move as much as I predict, I'll make less, but the worst possible outcome is losing $8000, and that's not likely. The beauty of trading options is you can control a large position with a small amount of money. Remember, though, there's no guarantee I'm right, and $8000 is a significant portion of my portfolio, and I'd struggle to make that back in the short term."

"So why take the risk?" Shelly asked.

"Making one big score is the common way to generate capital to invest. That's what my Uncle Alec did -- turned an initial $5000 into a real estate portfolio worth north of twenty million by making the right investment at the right time with that five grand. That's how Mr. Spurgeon's dad made most of his fortune -- he made a big bet on oil prices right before the 1973 oil embargo. He was a history professor at UCLA and saw the writing on the wall, as it were, so he took the money he'd inherited from his parents and took a huge long position in oil futures before the price spiked. He made something like $50,000,000 on that deal."

"Damn!" Shelly exclaimed.

"Remember, too, the number I gave isn't money in my pocket. It's what's called 'carried interest,' which means I leave it in the fund and don't pay taxes on it until I withdraw it, which I do not plan to do. On the other hand, I can use it to secure my mortgage through Spurgeon at 5% instead of 15% at a bank, which might not even lend me the money given I'm twenty and don't have sufficient liquid assets or credit history."

"So you'll just live on your salary and bonuses, then?"

"That's the plan," I replied. "I can take money out if I have to, but I don't want to. My goal is to build my fund to around $20,000,000. Of course, that won't be all mine."

"How long?" Bianca asked.

"If I earn 25% returns, that means the money doubles roughly every three years, so fifteen years. If I earn 30% returns, about twelve years. And a single year with returns over that would decrease the amount of time it takes. And that doesn't include additional investors, which I'll seek when the time is right."

"And that's realistic?"

"The average returns for both the main Spurgeon fund and Mr. Matheson's Foreign Exchange and Precious Metals fund has been over 30% every year for nearly a decade."

"Maybe I should reconsider the harem idea!" Shelly said mirthfully.

"Maybe you should!" Bianca declared.

IV. The Art Of The Deal

February 7, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Keiko sighed deeply, then bent down and rested her head next to mine.

"I never knew how empty I was," she whispered.

She was still for a good five minutes, but there was no risk I'd go soft as the gentle ripples of her tight, silky tunnel massaged my shaft. She began to move, almost imperceptibly at first, simply grinding her mons against my pubic bone. About a minute after she started moving, she blew out a long breath, and the ripples intensified to spasms. Keiko moaned softly and pushed herself down harder against me to increase the pressure on her clit.

"Wow!" she breathed.

When her first orgasm passed, Keiko began moving more forcefully, altering her motions -- back and forth, grinding in a small circle, and after two more minutes, up and down. She gave herself two more orgasms, then leaned down again and caught her breath.

"What do you need me to do?" she asked.

"Just keep doing what you're doing, but a bit faster."

Keiko sat up, smiled, put her hands on my shoulders, and began moving much faster and more forcefully and gave herself one more orgasm before I had mine, groaning as jets of cum spurted into her spasming pussy. When my orgasm passed, Keiko stretched out on top of me, keeping me inside her. I cupped her firm butt in my hands as she gently squeezed and relaxed her muscles, keeping me harder longer than usual after a release. Eventually, though, I softened, and Keiko whimpered as I slipped from inside her.

Several minutes later, she lifted her head and asked, "Do you want to do it again?"

"I do," I replied.

February 8, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Did last night meet your expectations?" I asked Keiko as we got into the shower on Tuesday morning.

"Yes," Keiko replied happily. "As did this morning!"

We'd had two more rounds, identical to the first, before falling asleep, then one more when we woke up. Now, I carefully soaped her body, and once she'd rinsed off, she did the same for me. After I rinsed off the lather, we got out, dried off, dressed, and went downstairs for breakfast. Once we'd eaten, we got into my car so I could drop Keiko at Loyola on my way to work.

"Did I satisfy you?" she asked.

"Very much so!" I replied. "I really enjoyed last night and this morning."

"Could I visit you again?"

The group of girls who were available to me seemed to be ever-increasing, and I almost laughed, thinking about Bianca's suggestion that I have a harem instead of a traditional marriage. That would be fun, but I still wasn't convinced it was a good option. In the short term, though, I would be happy to entertain any girls who asked.

"You could," I replied. "Just call, and we'll find a time."

When we reached Loyola, Keiko leaned over, and we shared a soft French kiss.

"Thank you," she said. "It was wonderful."

"I agree!"

She got out of the car, and I waited until she was inside the building before heading to the office. The morning was routine, and at 11:25am, I went downstairs to meet Anala. She greeted me with a hug, and we headed to a diner just down the street from the Hancock Center.

"How have you been?" Anala asked as we walked.

"Busy," I replied. "A lot has changed since the last time we were together."

"Such as?"

"First, I have something for you."

I handed her the Osco bag, and she laughed when she looked inside.

"Point taken!" she said. "Thank you. Now, about the things that have changed..."

I gave her a rundown of the things that had happened at work, with Bev, with my mom, and with Huifen, revealing everything except Glen's name but explaining both my mom's and Bev's relationships with him.

"There's a lot to discuss, but first, let me congratulate you on the new job."

"Thanks. And actually, there's something very specific I want to discuss with you if that's OK with you."

"Anything, you know that."

"In my dreams!" I declared.

Anala laughed, "I see at least that hasn't changed!"

"Never! Anyway, what I wanted to discuss is how to deal with conflicts between two principles of my ethical system - keeping my word and honoring my relationships."

"I take it this has to do with your mom and Bev?"

"Correct. I promised Bev I would never reveal what she said, but once she'd said it, I felt compelled to tell my mom. Fortunately, my mom solved my dilemma for me by telling me what she knew from Glen. But that didn't alleviate my underlying confusion about which was more important -- keeping my word or telling my mom something she had an absolute right to know?"

We walked into the diner, so Anala waited until we were seated and had ordered our drinks before answering.

"Did you reach any kind of resolution in your mind before your mom called you?" she asked.

"No. I was leaning toward telling my mom, but I kept coming back to my most important principle -- keeping my word."

"And a situation developed where keeping your word did harm to someone you love while breaking it would harm another person you love."

"That pretty much sums it up."

"Which harm would have been greater?" Anala asked.

"That's a difficult question to answer," I replied. "But I think, in the end, my mom would have suffered more potential harm if I didn't tell her."

"Which one would have hurt you more?"

"Cynically, I'd say telling my mom because by not telling her, I could have plausible deniability about knowing. If she found out, I'd do my best to avoid letting on that I knew, though I wouldn't lie about it. Mostly, I felt I could finesse it with my mom one way or the other. With Bev, it was black and white, and she'd hate me, and I'd hate myself."

"And that's not enough to make up your mind?"

"No," I replied, "because I felt my mom had an incontestable right to know that her future husband had impregnated my best friend while my best friend was a Senior at Goshen High. Once it was shown that Bob wasn't Heather's dad, my mom's fiancé had to know Heather was his, or at least strongly suspect it. Thankfully, he confessed while I was still trying to decide what to do."

The waitress came to take our orders, which interrupted the conversation. Once she had taken the orders, she left, and Anala spoke.

"Which concerns you more? How do you feel, your reputation, or Bev's opinion of you?"

"Forget my feelings," I replied. "Those are totally irrelevant to the decision."

"I don't believe that for one second!" Anala declared. "Even the cold, logical Jonathan isn't immune to emotion."

"You do remember what I do for a living? Emotion has no place at all in deciding what to do."

"I think you're fooling yourself," Anala said, "but I'll play along for now. Your reputation, or Bev's opinion of you?"

"Aren't those the same thing?"

"Are they? Maybe with regard to Bev, but your reputation is universal, even if it's made up of the amalgamation of discrete opinions."

"My reputation for honesty and being a straight shooter is a key factor in my current and future success. But keeping my word is part of that, too."

"You've discovered a conundrum which exists in every ethical system -- what to do when core ethical principles conflict. And in your case, if we apply the principles to your work, you suffer reputational risk either way. How would you resolve conflicting duties of honesty and client confidentiality?"

"Fortunately, there are clear rules for most situations. If there is criminal activity, or regulatory violations, my obligation is to the requirements of my license. In other words, I wouldn't keep a secret that would cause a violation or keep a violation of which I became aware secret. That specific course of action was demonstrated clearly not long after I started when Mr. Spurgeon reported one of his own people to the government for violating securities regulations."

"What about a situation that wasn't illegal where you had conflicting obligations?"

"I'd speak to Legal or Compliance to get an answer."

"OK, I think I made an error going there because you work in a highly regulated industry. But here's the thing -- outside the regulations, would you conceal material facts from a client that would absolutely influence their decision?"

"No. My reputation, and the firm's reputation, ride on disclosing that information."

"Even if it might harm another client?"

"Yes."

The waitress brought our food, and we began eating.

"If you were to apply those rules in your personal life," Anala asked, "what would the result be?"

"I'd have told my mom, which I was predisposed to do. What held me back was my promise to Bev. But your question about material facts basically hit the nail on the head."

"Then I think you have your answer to this specific dilemma. That said, it's not a universal answer because every time there are conflicting principles, there will be different facts and conditions, and you'll have to decide the right course of action. Each time you do, you'll refine your criteria and eventually come up with a workable system for deciding how to resolve conflicts."

"I really don't like hurting anyone."

"Nobody does! Well, sociopaths don't care, but you aren't a sociopath."

"Are you sure about that?" I asked with a sly smile.

Anala laughed, "Now that you mention it, you do exhibit some of the main traits -- boldness, disinhibition, and egotism! But you have empathy, and I've seen remorse, which means you aren't, because it doesn't lead you to treat people badly, or if you do, you regret it and show remorse."

"I agree with you on boldness and egotism but only partly on disinhibition. I have zero regard for social convention, but I'm not overly impulsive, and I think I have pretty good risk assessment skills."

"True," Anala said with a smirk, "but you are hypersexual!"

"Is that one of the traits? I don't remember that one."

"It is, but I personally think that's a bias that psychology has for monogamy, similar to the one for heterosexuality, and both are related to the traditional social norms of the Abrahamic religions."

"Along with a lot of other social baggage that we ought to discard," I opined, "but I think that's a losing argument with the general public at the moment."

"I would agree. Prudishness is inherent to the American culture, except in advertising and what amounts to soft-core pornography in what are called 'Hard-R' movies. American attitudes with regard to sex are positively medieval!"

"I'm not going to argue with you."

"And you didn't even proposition me!" Anala said with a smile.

"As if that would have any chance of success!"

"That never deterred you in the past!" Anala replied mirthfully.

"We were having a serious conversation, and I didn't want to derail it."

"That's new," Anala observed. "Have you become more serious?"

"Nope! Still irreverent, but perhaps a bit more circumspect."

"That's not a bad thing; just don't go too far down that path. I like the fun, carefree, irreverent Jonathan."

"Even when he's trying to convince you to let him put his oversized «lingam» in your «yoni»?"

Anala laughed softly, "Especially then!"

"Not that you'll ever say 'yes'!"

"But you see, your egotism has convinced you I might!"

It was my turn to laugh, "You're right, of course, but I also know that it's not the right thing for us to do, so even if you said 'yes', I'd have to say 'no' for all the reasons we discussed before."

"So even if I changed my mind about how it would affect our relationship?"

"You haven't, so it's a moot point! I was serious when I said I didn't want to risk the friendship. Of course, if you're going to avoid me for months..."

"I am sorry," Anala said. "I've been incredibly busy, which is no excuse. And now I have an answering machine!"

"Which requires that you return messages."

"I promise I will."

"Tell me about my replacement," I said.

"That's not it at all!" Anala protested.

"Gotcha!" I chuckled.

"You're bad!"

"Very!" I declared. "And that's when I'm best!"

"Smart ass!"

"You know it!"

"Let's have lunch again soon," Anala said.

"You bet!"

I finished my lunch, and we walked back to the Hancock Center. Anala and I hugged, and she left to head back to IIT while I went upstairs to my desk. The first thing I did was dial Kasia Pucinski's number so I could arrange a meeting with her. I wasn't sure how receptive she'd be, given how our encounter just after I'd signed the lease had ended.

"Pucinski Realty Trust," a woman's voice said.

"This is Jonathan Kane calling for Ms. Pucinski. I rent the house on Estes Avenue."

"She's not in the office at the moment; is there something I can do for you?"

"I'm buying a house and wanted to discuss options with her."

"One moment."

I heard what sounded like a file cabinet being opened and then some papers rustling.

"Mr. Kane? You signed a standard short-form lease with a one-year term and no allowance for early termination."

"I understand that," I said. "I'd like to speak to Ms. Pucinski and see if we can work out an arrangement."

"Our policy is not to do that."

"I understand, but I'd still like to speak to her. May I leave a message, please?"

"Let me have your number, and I'll let her know you called."

"Thank you."

I gave her my work number and then ended the call. I wondered if Ms. Pucinski had flagged my file, but there really wasn't anything I could do about it if she had. I was prepared to pay the rent for April, May, June, and July, if necessary, so I really had nothing to lose by seeking an accommodation and offering an incentive for her to lease the house before August 1st. There was nothing more I could do until she called, so I went back to work.

About ninety minutes later, my phone rang.

"FX Desk, Kane," I said.

"This is Kasia Pucinski. My assistant said you called."

"Yes. I'm buying a house and wanted to discuss the lease with you."

"The lease doesn't allow early termination," she said.

"I understand that, but I have a proposition for you. Could we meet to discuss it? I can't take the time right now because I'm at work."

"I have a meeting at 4:00pm. We could meet at 5:00pm if that works for you. Should I come to your office?"

"That would be fine. Come to the 30th floor of the Hancock Center, and the receptionist will call me."

"OK. See you at 5:00pm."

We ended the call, and I turned back to my Bloomberg Terminal.

"Buying a house?" Paige asked. "How the heck can you afford that on our salaries at your age?"

I actually had no idea how much she made and wondered if her salary was comparable to mine. Salaries were meant to be private, though commission and bonus amounts, which made up the bulk of compensation for traders, were published.

"Yes," I replied. "I have housemates now in the place we rent, and they'll pay rent."

"Must be nice to be the teacher's pet."

"Hard not to be," Tony chimed in. "Did you see the size of the account he brought in? Almost $4,000,000! The commission alone is almost forty grand! And check out the returns in the fund he's managing."

Those returns were published monthly, but analysts, like traders, could look at the 'hot' data, which reflected the previous day's closing prices. If I could figure out how to do it, I'd get automated quotes into my Apple and I could have my returns at the current market prices. To get those now, I had to plug the numbers into my spreadsheets, which took some effort.

"He does the same job we do," Paige said.

Tony shook his head, "That's not how it works here. Your only value to Spurgeon is how much money you make for him. And that comes down to how much money Mr. Matheson earns and how much he values what we provide. Jonathan is making money directly and gets those benefits. I wish I had the balls to play that game. Because I don't, I only get derivative benefits from the value I provide. But those derivative benefits are damned good, and I'm not complaining."

Tony had been at Spurgeon for four years, and his bonus the previous year had been just under thirty grand. Mr. Matheson relied heavily on him, but as Tony said, he didn't earn directly, which was, in the end, the only thing that Noel Spurgeon valued.

"It's bullshit," Paige declared. "They couldn't make a dime without us!"

"That's not even close to being true," I replied. "They might miss some opportunities, but it was just Mr. Spurgeon, Mr. Matheson, and a secretary who doubled as an assistant when they started, and they made a ton of money. Do we add value? Absolutely, because if we didn't, we wouldn't be here. But in the end, the only thing that matters is making money. I was here for the layoffs just over a year ago, and people who didn't make enough profit were axed. Not that they didn't make money, but they didn't make enough."

"He's right," Tony said. "I've seen that happen twice since I've been here, though the first one was just a single underperforming broker, not a wholesale housecleaning of low performers. Fundamentally, if Mr. Matheson doesn't make his usual returns, we're ALL out, no matter how well we've done our job. We're all one bad quarter, or perhaps even one bad trade, away from unemployment.

"And that's why our compensation is above average -- risk and reward. Your bonus, which usually makes up a significant part of compensation for anyone except support staff, directly depends on Mr. Matheson's performance. You'll see that at the end of the year when your bonus is paid out. My advice is to do your job well, don't complain, don't be jealous, and bank some serious coin in December."

That was excellent advice and applied to everyone. I felt the trouble with Paige was a chip on her shoulder, but I didn't know enough about her to know if that was actually true and if it was to know the source of the chip. I had further research to do before the end of the day, so I turned back to my Bloomberg Terminal and typed in some keywords, then began reviewing the results of the query. Fortunately, Paige let it go, but she was obviously unhappy.

Just before 5:00pm, Anne called to say that Kasia Pucinski had arrived. I went up to reception and asked Anne if it was OK to use the small conference room just off the lobby. She said it was, so I invited Ms. Pucinski into the conference room and shut the door.

"We plan to move out on or before April 1st," I said.

"And the lease runs until July 31st."

"It does," I replied. "I totally understand the terms of the lease, and I will make the required lease payments for April, May, June, and July, if necessary, but I have a proposition for you."

"Go on."

"No matter what, you have to look for a new tenant, and I'd obviously prefer you do that sooner rather than later. To encourage that, we'll clean the house from top to bottom, paint, and make any needed minor repairs so that a new tenant can move in on April 1st. In addition, I'm offering you $40 per week for each week it's re-let, starting with the first week in April. That works out to roughly $650 extra for you if you find a new tenant right away, less if it takes longer."

"Which would, in effect, save you three months' rent."

"And make you extra profit. It's a win-win scenario, and all you have to do is exactly what you'd be doing after I gave you sixty days' notice that we weren't going to renew."

"I don't see any downside, so I can agree to that," Ms. Pucinski said.

"Thank you. If you want to draw up a contract, I'll be happy to sign it. It can be something as simple as a one-page letter stating our agreement."

"I'll do that."

"Thank you."

"May I ask where you're buying?"

"Rogers Park," I replied. "On Morse Street. I was remiss in not asking how you've been?"

She reached into the pocket of her blouse and produced something that looked like a dark blue poker chip.

"I'm sure there's some significant to that which I should recognize, but I don't know what it means."

"It's from Alcoholics Anonymous. It's a six-month sobriety chip."

"Again, you'll have to forgive me, but I know almost nothing about Alcoholics Anonymous."

"I think the easiest way to describe it to someone unfamiliar is a loosely organized group of people who help each other refrain from drinking. Some people call it a 'self-help' group, but I have a sponsor who keeps me accountable."

"And that chip means you haven't had anything to drink in six months?"

"Not since that night I walked out on you at Lou Malnati's. I went home, got drunk, and the next day, my sister basically dragged me to an AA meeting. She doesn't drink, but she knew I needed help. I do need to apologize to you for walking out on you."

"I'd say I bear as much responsibility for what happened as you do."

"Even if that's true, and I'm not arguing one way or the other, I was wrong to simply walk out on you. I apologize."

"Apology accepted."

"Can I ask you a question about your work?"

"Sure."

"When you answered, you said something like 'Effects Desk'. What is that?"

"It's F-X, for foreign exchange. I was promoted to an analyst, and I work for a senior trader who focuses on currencies, precious metals, and related financial instruments."

"Congratulations! What do you do? I mean, what do you analyze?"

"Basically, anything that might affect the exchange rates between currencies and the price of precious metals and other major commodities. I gather information, write a daily report summarizing important events, and then make recommendations to my boss. I also run a small investment fund. I passed the tests for my securities licenses late last year. How is your business?"

"OK. I think we had just bought a new property when I last spoke to you, and we bought one more since. With mortgage rates still high, we have to be very careful, but we look for distressed properties we can buy far under market."

"Similar to what I did with my new house. It needs some work, which allowed me to bid significantly under the asking price."

"What kind of work?"

"A new boiler, though I negotiated for that to be done before I take possession; the wood floors need to be stripped, sanded, and stained; the appliances need to be replaced; and the entire interior needs to be painted. Sometime in the next year, the exterior needs to be stripped, sanded and painted as well, and probably some woodwork replaced."

"What's your mortgage rate, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I don't, but I don't go through a bank. Spurgeon Capital offers below-market rates for mortgages, so I'm paying about 5%."

"Wow! No wonder you can afford to buy now. I'm going to guess you make good money, too."

"I do. I won't take up any more of your time. Thank you for the accommodation."

"You're welcome. You know, if you aren't doing anything, I'll buy you dinner at Lou Malnati's to make up for the missed meal back in July."

I didn't have plans, and I didn't see any reason not to accept what amounted to a peace offering.

"I don't have plans," I said. "And pizza sounds good. I just need to get my bag. Do you have your car?"

"Yes. It's in the building garage."

"Given the first hour is the most expensive, it makes more sense to walk or take a cab. The weather isn't too bad, so I'm up for a walk, but a cab is fine if you'd prefer."

"Let's take a cab," Kasia suggested.

"OK."

We went to the elevator, went down a floor, I retrieved my bag, then we took the elevator down to the lobby, walked outside, and hailed a cab. Twenty minutes later, we were seated at Lou Malnati's.

"You've moved up pretty fast in your company," Kasia observed once the waitress took our orders for non-alcoholic drinks.

"A combination of hard work, determination, study, and a bit of luck. I'm basically about eighteen months ahead of schedule, and I managed to skip one step."

"What step and how?"

"Normally, someone would go from the mailroom to a job called 'runner', which is basically someone who assists a floor broker or trader, that is, someone who actually executes trades. From there, the next step is usually to assistant broker, and then, eventually, to full-fledged broker. I skipped over the runner position and went to an analyst position because I demonstrated skills in picking stocks, learned the regulations, and passed two tests."

"You're only twenty, right?"

"Yes."

"That's pretty amazing. I know you made decent money as a supervisor, and I'm going to guess this job pays a lot better."

"It does."

"Where do you go from here?"

"To a trading job where I develop my own clients while helping my boss manage the main FX portfolio and assist with his clients."

"Isn't there a conflict? You trying to find clients and your boss doing the same?"

"There could be, but there are clear rules about who lower level people are permitted to recruit, or, really, who is responsible for the person or company recruited, and the company or person has a say as well."

"So you could find someone, and they insist that your boss or the guy who runs the firm be responsible for their account?"

"Yes. Or, in the case of one client I brought in already, they insisted that I be responsible for their account even though I'm not officially a trader. I can do that because I have my licenses."

The waitress brought our drinks and took our orders, returning almost immediately with salads.

"That's moving even faster than I thought," Kasia said once we began eating. "You must be something special."

I shrugged, "I've shown some skills, but until I can demonstrate the ability to consistently beat the stock market returns by a significant amount, there are no guarantees. Heck, there are no guarantees even after I show that because it has to be done consistently, quarter after quarter."

"But how can you beat the stock market consistently? Inside information?"

"That would be illegal," I replied. "It really comes down to the work I'm doing now, along with those of the other two analysts in the group. It's looking for indications of things which will cause changes in the value of assets. I can't really go into detail because trading strategies and my reports are proprietary."

I had discussed them with Marcia, as well as Bianca and Shelly, but I trusted all three of them implicitly and knew they'd never betray me. I couldn't say that about Kasia Pucinski, of course, as I hadn't even spoken to her in seven months.

"I didn't mean to pry."

"It was a legitimate question," I said. "It's always OK to ask questions, but you can't always expect answers."

"Still blunt and direct."

"It's the only way I know how to be. How does Alcoholics Anonymous work?"

"It's about admitting you have a problem, resolving to deal with it, taking steps to ensure you succeed, and having accountability. I'm sure you remember what I told you about my behavior in college."

I nodded, "I do."

"It started that first night in college and was the pattern until seven months ago."

"Going to one meeting did that?"

"It's a start. I showed you the chip, well, you get one for the first day, then every thirty days for the first year, then one per year. I saw someone receive a twenty-eight-year coin last week."

"So, what has that changed in your life? I mean, besides the obvious point of not drinking alcohol?"

"I feel a lot better overall, partly because I started going to the gym, but mostly because I'm not getting drunk and getting picked up in a bar every Friday night."

Given she was twenty-seven, she'd been basically getting drunk once a week for eight years before she stopped drinking. That was serious inertia to overcome, and it showed a commitment to solving her problems that I respected.

"Eight years of getting drunk at least once a week, then you quit cold turkey?"

"It was more than once a week, but yes, that's right. Cold turkey. Not even a sip of anything that contains alcohol."

"Commendable," I replied.

"Thanks."

"What about relationships? Boyfriend?"

"No. I had to get my act together before I could even think about that. Are you interested?"

"To be honest, that wasn't a consideration given I was absolutely certain you thought I was a bastard or an asshole or whatever term you had in your head but didn't say."

"I did kind of indicate that when I suggested I might slap you. I chose the middle option of walking out, and that turned out to be the right decision, even if made for the wrong reasons and even if it was rude."

"One thing is certain," I said. "As an adult, if you don't look out for yourself, nobody will. Sometimes, that means causing other people discomfort, having them take offense, or even harming them in some way. Obviously, you should strive to avoid harming others, but not to the point where you harm yourself in some serious way."

"You wouldn't die for someone?"

"I think that's a different question than looking out for my best interests when I make decisions. That said, I think you could make a utilitarian argument that doing the most good might require self-sacrifice, even to the point of death. If you value doing good more than anything else, that might be the correct outcome. Isn't that the point of Jesus dying? That despite him being murdered by the Romans, it created an overall better outcome?"

"I'm not sure the priest at my church would put it that way, but I see your point."

"Do you go to church?"

"Two or three times a month," Kasia replied. "Part of AA is honoring God as we perceive Him. In other words, it's not about following some specific doctrine, just honoring God. I'm not particularly serious about it, though."

"Meaning?"

"I treat it like a cafeteria, so to speak -- I take the things I like or want and leave the rest. I receive Communion and go to confession, but I confess what I perceive as actual sins, not the list the Church would have me use. Ultimately, it's between me and God."

"OK, so why go into that little wooden booth and tell some random guy in robes the bad stuff you feel you've done? Why not go right to God?"

"I'm Catholic, and that's what we do. I suppose you could call it following tradition instead of dogma. I'm going to guess you're specifically thinking about my behavior in college and afterwards."

"Actually, I wasn't thinking of anything specific because I don't think anything you did was sinful. Of course, that's because I reject the entire concept of sin, except in the sense that we ought not to harm anyone else, and if we do, then we should apologize and make amends."

"That's actually the AA tradition. They don't define 'sin' or 'harm' but leave it to the individual to work out for themselves. I did dumb things when I was drunk that hurt my family, so I apologized to them for that. And I confessed those things. The other behavior, well, it was dumb, not sinful, at least as I see it."

I nodded, "Being foolish, to use a term I prefer, is a problem, but it has nothing to do with some list of good and bad behavior by which someone else judges us. In my mind, the key is not having double standards. And to use what is probably a perfect example, I'll say that I've been with several dozen girls, and, based on what you said, that puts you and me in exactly the same position."

"Minus the booze, I suspect, from everything you've said."

"Minus the booze," I confirmed. "But the point I was trying to make was not having double standards and not judging."

The waitress brought our pizza, and we dug in. After a few bites, I was convinced that Lou Malnati's was the best pizza in Chicago, beating Connie's and Giordano's with ease.

"Good choice in restaurants," I said. "I've found a new favorite pizza."

"Lou's is the best," Kasia agreed. "Their sauce is out of this world, and the cheese is just right. I'm glad you like it."

"Is there a next step with AA?"

"Every day is the next step," Kasia replied. "Once you've repaired your relationships to the extent you can and made amends where appropriate, it's about staying sober. Addictions to alcohol or drugs or sex are hard to break."

"I'm not sure being addicted to sex is a problem," I chuckled.

Kasia laughed, "You wouldn't! You're a guy! But in all seriousness, there's a difference between drinking and alcoholism, and that can be applied to any potentially addictive behavior. If the thing you're doing negatively affects your relationships or your job, it doesn't matter if it's alcohol, drugs, gambling, or sex. Getting laid a lot is not a problem, but what if it interferes with your work? Or wrecks your relationships because you went to bed with the wrong person, so to speak?"

Bev came to mind instantly. It wasn't that she'd had sex with Glen, or even that she'd had sex with a teacher at the High School, or even that she'd become pregnant by Glen, but that Glen had later become involved with my mom. In Bev's case, it wasn't addiction, but it was a perfect example of wrecking relationships by having sex with the 'wrong' guy, even if 'wrong' was only true in hindsight.

"I can see that," I said. "Is that part of it?"

Kasia laughed softly, "Given I've never had sex sober, I couldn't tell you if it was addictive or not!"

"Pardon the completely insensitive and probably inappropriate question, but why?"

"That is just like you to ask a question you know might be insensitive or inappropriate!"

"And as I said earlier, I don't expect an answer. I'd like one, of course, or I wouldn't have asked, but I don't expect one, and you are certainly not required to answer."

"You do realize that some people might take serious offense at you asking the question."

"That's on them, not on me. All they have to do is say it's private, or they choose not to answer. They don't even have to give a reason. But my job involves asking what amount to uncomfortable questions that might have distasteful answers. But I'm required to ask them because my duty is to make money for Spurgeon Capital and its clients."

"You're likely to have numerous bad reactions similar to the one when I threatened to slap you and instead chose to walk out."

"Again, that's on you or whoever it is that is offended and walks away, not on me. I simply don't see the point of beating around the bush or over-applying tact. I realize there are times when one has to be diplomatic, but those should be the exception, not the rule. Everyone should just say what they mean, mean what they say, say what they want, and be honest. If people did that, instead of dissembling or prevaricating, the world would be a far better place."

"How far does that go?"

"What do you mean?"

"Would you walk up to some random girl and ask her to go to bed with you?"

"If I felt that was the approach that was most likely to succeed, sure!"

Kasia laughed, "Of course you would! And you'd probably get slapped a lot!"

"I doubt it because I'd assess the situation and circumstances and decide if that was the right course of action. I'm not sure of a scenario where it would work, but I'd say a party at the sorority where you were a member was probably a 'target-rich environment', and that tactic might actually have a strong chance of success."

Kasia smiled, "'Target rich environment' was right! Let's just say that if a halfway-decent-looking guy couldn't get laid at one of our parties, he wasn't trying."

"I remember something you said to me before, and I'm trying to fit the pieces together. You told me you quit drinking after Sophomore year and improved your grades. What happened?"

"You have a damned good memory if you remember that detail from seven months ago."

"One of the key skills necessary for my role is finding the anomaly or the thing that doesn't fit. That's usually the key to gaining an advantage that will earn the most returns."

"It's complicated," Kasia said.

"If you don't want to answer, just say so."

"No, it's just that...well, it's a long story."

"Tell it if you like, or tell me to mind my own business. I won't be upset."

"I'll give you the Reader's Digest version. I had a pregnancy scare at the end of my Sophomore year and swore off sex, which meant there was no need to get drunk. After graduation, I was in a bar, a guy was hitting on me, and I got drunk so I could go home with him."

Which actually fit what she'd said about never having had sex while she was sober.

"All a result of that first time?"

"Yes. As I said, it's complicated, and I'd really rather not get into it tonight."

"No problem at all."

We finished our pizza, and when we left the restaurant, we took a cab back to the Hancock Center to retrieve our cars.

"Thanks for the pizza," I said.

"You're welcome. I'll draft an agreement and bring it by your office for you to sign."

"Just call to make sure I'm available."

"I'll do that. When would I be able to show the house?"

"I'd say anytime you want, given April 1st is only seven weeks away. I'm OK with you showing it during the day, too. Just let me know when you're doing that."

"Great! I'll be in touch in a day or two."

We exchanged a polite, chaste hug, then each got into our cars and left the garage.

V. A Counter To Their Counter

January 30, 1983, Super Bowl Sunday, Chicago, Illinois

Because I knew I was going to gorge myself on snacks, burgers, and brats during the game, I got an apple and a glass of juice from the kitchen for lunch, and the girls made themselves PB&J sandwiches.

"If you can basically triple your money in three months, why would it take so long?" Shelly asked as we ate our lunch.

"Because I'm risking a significant portion of my capital on these bets, and I need to take into account that I might be wrong. It's also the case that for other investments, things might not move the way I expect, and I could lose money. For the money I'm managing for my friend Jeri, I can't take the same risks I'm taking to make the big score. Mr. Matheson makes small percentages on very large trades and has to be extremely careful because a bad move could literally cost hundreds of millions of dollars, and he has clients who would leave Spurgeon if he has a down quarter. And finally, I have a portion of my fund in fixed-income products, basically corporate and municipal bonds, so that I have cash income in case someone wants to make a redemption, that is, take money out."

"But you can buy insurance, right? To protect yourself?"

"Using only options and futures contracts, you can limit your losses, but they usually also cap your profits, often far below what you could make otherwise. The other thing with using options is that the greater the potential profit, the more they cost because the price spread will be greater. The reason I can only risk $8000 or so this time is the call options are basically at the market price plus a small premium. The futures contracts are at a slight discount to the current price to account for the cost to the purchaser. This only works because I expect a huge drop in something almost everyone else thinks will continue to rise."

"But how?" Shelly asked. "I mean, how do you know?"

"Remember, I'm mostly betting against the general public, not against other professionals. With gold and silver, professionals like Mr. Matheson see the spread -- the difference between current and future prices -- and they know that the price has to drop. But the average investor doesn't look at that and simply buys gold or silver coins, propping up the market just long enough for professionals to make nice profits."

"That sounds as if you're taking advantage of the average person."

"The information is publicly available," I replied. "And the trading methodology isn't secret. In other words, anyone can look at the current price and the price of a futures contract and see which way the spread is moving. The fact that most people don't isn't on me; it's on them. There's a quote on a plaque in Mr. Monroe's office -- It's morally wrong to allow a sucker to keep his money. That's something W. C. Fields supposedly said."

"Cruel," Shelly replied.

"Survival of the fittest," I replied. "Again, I don't need to work for Spurgeon to be able to do this, it just makes it simpler. As for the Venezuelan Bolivar, I was one of the first analysts to hit on it, based on research I was doing for the daily report I have to write. I saw a note about countries dependent on oil exports struggling with their current account balances -- that is, imports versus exports -- and looked into it further. Venezuela has a serious problem, and unless oil prices rise, which they won't in the near term, they'll have to devalue their currency or default on their debt. And that has to happen in the next sixty to ninety days, or they'll be forced to do it rather than picking an advantageous time."

"Forced, how?" Bianca asked.

"Traders like Murray Matheson will short the currency, that is, sell it, which will drive down the value of the currency relative to other currencies, and the only ways to defend against it are buying the currency or raising interest rates. Venezuela can't sustainably do either. So they'll see the writing on the wall and choose to devalue their currency."

The doorbell rang, and Bianca went to answer it. She returned with Esme and Jasmine in tow.

"Hi!" Esme exclaimed. "I hope you don't mind that we're early! We hoped you'd be OK with us cumming before the game starts!"

I couldn't help but laugh at the double entendre, as did Bianca and Shelly.

"Together?" I asked. "Or taking turns?"

"You know I'm cool with together," Esme said, "but Jasmine isn't. We have two hours, right?"

"About that," I agreed.

"Then four thirty-minute turns, with me going first. Jasmine can stay down here if Shelly and Bianca are cool with it."

"We are," Bianca said. "Have fun!"

"Then I suppose we should get started," I said, keeping my voice even.

"Just stop it!" Esme said, laughing. "You do NOT think it's a chore! And you like doing it!"

"That might be true," I replied evenly. "Possibly."

Esme laughed, grabbed my hand, and led me towards the stairs.

"If it's not exciting enough for you, I can set you up with a couple of friends who would love to have their cherries popped by you!"

"Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I'm struggling to understand what's special about me."

Esme smiled, "Besides being tall, good looking, having a huge dick that you know how to use, and a talented tongue? I think it's pretty obvious that girls want to have orgasms just as much as guys do, but they're subject to social pressure and repression. So when word gets around, the ones who are horny jump at the chance. There was a Senior guy last year who was the 'go to' guy, but he went to college in Florida, and rumor has it he's worked his way through two complete sororities during his first semester!"

"But a random guy?" I asked.

"If you think about it, it makes sense because there are zero complications. Neither Jasmine nor I think you'll be our boyfriend, and you don't think we're your girlfriends. It also takes the pressure off, so to speak, because they come to you with intent instead of having to deal with a guy pressuring them. That's what happened with the girls in the baseball games."

"True."

"And with Jasmine, too. She'd heard from me and another friend how awesome sex was and decided to go for it. She was nervous, obviously, but you handled it perfectly, and she loved it. Her friend Debbie and my friend Trish are both totally interested."

"We can discuss that later unless you want to talk rather than fool around."

"NO CHANCE!" Esme declared. "Oh, before I forget, Katy said Sunday, March 27, for our full participation threesome!"

"I'll put it on my calendar!"

We undressed and climbed into bed, and thirty minutes later, Esme rinsed off in the shower so her clothes wouldn't smell like sex while I cleaned up with a washcloth. Esme dressed, then left the room and Jasmine came in.

"I brought a box of rubbers," she said, taking the blue box of lubricated trojans from her purse. "I don't think we can use all twelve!"

"Not in the time we have, and that would require some kind of superhuman recovery!"

"Just like we did before? Sixty-nine, you fuck me, then sixty-nine until you cum in my mouth?"

"Absolutely!"

We did exactly as she asked, with her putting the rubber on me before we screwed and taking it off so I could cum in her mouth, and when we finished, she quickly rinsed off and dressed, then left with Esme returning a minute later. She kissed me and laughed.

"Nice! You didn't wash your face on purpose!"

"I thought you might get off on that," I chuckled. "I can if you want me to."

"NO!" she exclaimed.

We had another enjoyable round, after which she showered properly while I used a washcloth, and once she'd left, Jasmine joined me again for a repeat of our previous activity. She was the recipient of a joint shower, and once we were clean, we dried off, dressed, changed the sheets on the bed, then joined the others in the front room.

About ten minutes after we arrived downstairs, Jack and Kristy arrived, starting the flow of guests, and the party was in full swing by 4:30pm. I was happy to see that everyone who we had asked was at the house, though both Stuart and Tom had to work.

Dustin and Archie arrived with his photography assistant in tow.

"Jonathan Kane, meet Carla Rizzi, my assistant. Carla, Jonathan, our host."

I shook hands with the pretty, brown-eyed brunette who smiled at me.

"Thanks for letting me tag along with Dustin and Archie," she said.

"You're welcome! Come in and enjoy yourself."

"Thanks!"

The Super Bowl started just after 5:00pm, and Miami held a 7-0 lead at the end of the first quarter. The teams traded scores in the second quarter, with the half ending 17-10 Dolphins.

The halftime show was boring, featuring Los Angeles County Schools students in a marching band and drill team. The second half was a disaster for the Dolphins, especially the fourth quarter, where the Redskins scored two unanswered touchdowns for a final score of 27-17 Redskins.

"I could stay," Ellie offered once the game ended and the party began breaking up.

"Not tonight," I replied. "And I hate to say this, but the next two weekends are already booked."

"Is this because I told you I wanted to be your girlfriend?"

"No, it's because I'm busy with work, school, and friends. And you know I'm still trying to sort things out with Bev."

That was true, though at this point, 'sorting things out' felt as if it was figuring out how to stay close friends, rather than being together as a couple.

"When could I see you?"

"If you want to spend the night Monday, Wednesday, or Thursday, you could come by around 9:30pm, which is when I get home from class."

"Could I sign up for all three, or would that make me a greedy bitch?"

"So long as you understand the situation, all three nights are OK, if that's what you want to do."

"You still go out with Jack and Kristy on Fridays, right?"

"Yes, but I've taken different girls with me because I don't want to send the wrong message."

"You mean a regular date that might imply you were a couple?"

"Yes."

Which was the risk with Haley, though we both had a 'take one day at a time' attitude, and she wasn't pressuring me in any way, though it was clear she was interested once I sorted out my feelings for Bev and whether Bev and I would be a couple.

"We're leaving, Jonathan," Lily announced.

"Ellie, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to walk them to their car."

"OK. I'm going to leave with Julianne, Kasey, and Miranda."

She gave me a quick hug and peck on the cheek, and I put on my coat and hat so I could walk Lily and Violet to Lily's car, which was parked three blocks away.

"Are you free for dinner next week?" Lily asked.

"It's difficult with class," I said. "What day were you thinking?"

"I had thought a week from Wednesday, but you have class, right?"

"I do, but I could still have dinner with you."

"That works. Will you come straight from work?"

"Sure. I can be at your house by 5:20pm, a week from Wednesday. Class is at 7:00pm."

"Mom won't be home," Lily said with a sly smile. "So come by after class for dessert!"

"I can do that!" I replied.

"Cool!" Lily exclaimed.

At the car, Lily gave me a tight hug and a peck on the lips, and Violet gave me her usual chaste hug and kiss on the cheek. Once the car pulled away, I returned to the house to help Jack, Kristy, Jasmine, Esme, Shelly, and Bianca clean up, and when we finished, our friends left.

About fifteen minutes later, Beth arrived with a bottle of chilled white wine, and we went up to my room to take a bubble bath.

"What prompted the call today?" I asked as we settled into the tub.

"I was bored, and I enjoyed spending time with you, in addition to having some of the best sex I've had in the past year."

"Some of the best?" I asked, tweaking her nipples.

"Oh, Jonathan," Beth simpered, "you're the best! Nobody has ever been better!"

I laughed, "You give as good as you get in the teasing department."

"And in the sex department! Can I ask you something personal?"

"More personal than giving a blowjob and swallowing my cum?"

"Well, when you put it that way, obviously not!" Beth replied. "But on that topic, why are you circumcised?"

"I asked my mom that question after seeing other guys in the shower at school, and she told me that the doctor told her it was 'routine', so she consented. She was sixteen, and her sex education was basically hands-on."

"Sadly, it hasn't changed much in quite a few places in the country, especially the Bible Belt. Before I forget, do you have business cards?"

"Yes. I'll give you a stack of them."

"Cool. How much sleep do you need?"

"I can manage on four hours if I need to."

"Plan on it!"

January 31, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Shower blowjobs are fun!" Beth declared when she stood up to kiss me.

We exchanged a sloppy French kiss, then rinsed off before getting out of the shower.

"I take it that it's OK to call you if I'm bored?" she asked as we dressed.

"It is. We should have dinner, too."

"I'd like that! Can't beat great sex with zero drama! And enjoyable company, to boot."

When we were both dressed, we changed the sheets on my bed and then went downstairs, where I made breakfast for us, though I skipped the bacon and sausage out of deference to Beth's religious practices. After breakfast, she helped clean up, then we left the house. At her car, we hugged, exchanged a quick kiss, and once she'd driven away, I opened the garage so I could get my car.

Thirty minutes later, I was sitting at my desk, working on my daily analyst report. There wasn't much going on in the world that would have a major impact on the markets, so the report was basically a revised version of Friday's report with an updated pricing table and updated portfolio numbers. Once I had printed it out and put it on Mr. Matheson's desk, I read the previous Friday's stock analysis Tony had put together and put in orders for my Cincinnatus Fund as well as Jeri's trust fund.

I bought Wal-Mart, Hasbro, The Gap, International Rectifier, Bally Manufacturing, and Wieboldt stores and took a modest short position in Mattel. Once that was completed, I adjusted the bond holdings in each portfolio based on Paige's analysis. I wouldn't solely rely on their work, but it saved a tremendous amount of time.

When the new mailroom clerk, Naomi, came by just after 10:00am, I gave her the envelope with Bev's check, which she'd put with the outgoing mail, which would be collected later that afternoon. I was concerned for Bev and did not look forward to the conversation with her dad. He was going to be upset, but there wasn't really anything I could do about that, and I was determined to keep my word.

The larger question was what to do about my mom and Glen. Fundamentally, he hadn't cheated on her, nor did I believe he had any obligation to tell her about his relationship with Bev. Whether that was OK with the school was a different question, and really, none of my business, given Bev had not said anything about him coërcing her. The State of Ohio might also object, but she was over the age of consent, so, at least in my mind, if there was no coërcion, then it was nobody's business except Bev's and Glen's.

Where I struggled was with the fact that Glen had to know that Heather might be his daughter, and he had, at least as far as I was aware, not spoken to Bev nor made any effort to do so. Of course, Bev could be concealing that from me, but I didn't feel that was the case, given she'd told me she'd been with him at the right time for him to be Heather's dad. The ultimate question was whether or not my mom had a right to know about Glen being Heather's dad.

There were three scenarios in my mind -- Mom found out now; Mom found out in the future; and Mom never found out. To me, the riskiest of the three was Mom finding out after she'd married Glen. That would potentially lead to a divorce, which was not something I wanted to see. It wasn't that I objected to divorce in principle, but I didn't want my mom to go through the heartache.

To me, the wisest, most logical approach was to simply tell her what I knew, which would allow her to make an informed choice about whether or not to marry Glen. The problem with that was, of course, that I had given Bev my word that I wouldn't tell my mom. In hindsight, I shouldn't have made the promise, but now that it was made, breaking it would violate one of my core principles.

Countering that principle was my dedication to honesty, integrity, and trustworthiness. If I withheld material information from a client or from Mr. Matheson, it could cost me my trading licenses and my job. And in this case, I had material information which was critical to my mom, but I was bound by my word not to give it. At work, per both Spurgeon policy and the regulatory agencies, my word had to yield to not withholding that material information.

What I had to consider now was how to apply conflicting principles in my private life, where regulators didn't dictate the outcome. As I struggled with the philosophical problem, I rued the fact that I hadn't been able to get in touch with Anala. It had been nearly four months since I'd spoken to her, despite my efforts to get in touch with her. I decided I'd try again after lunch in the hope of catching her between classes.

I realized my mind was wandering, and I wasn't focused on my research tasks, so I pushed those thoughts out of my mind and began gathering information that might affect currencies. Of course, that was, literally, almost anything that happened in the world, and something that appeared minor could simply be the first incident in a chain of events that led to something major.

There was some element of 'crystal ball peering' as Tony put it, or 'tea leaf reading' as Paige put it, and the successful analyst was the one who could synthesize raw data, history, trends, and their gut into a coherent strategy. That was, as I saw it, the most important thing I was learning as an analyst. But even that was insufficient because the market was chaotic and volatile, and what might be true one day might not be true the next.

Yes, there were patterns and trends, but every pattern and every trend was eventually disrupted, and discerning where those disruptions would occur was the key to making serious money. That's what I'd done with the Bolivar and what Mr. Matheson was doing with gold and silver. If we were right, we'd make a fortune; if we were wrong, we'd lose money, though at least with the Bolivar, we'd protected ourselves with call options.

The disruption in markets was the basis for Tony's analysis of stocks that were primed to move higher or lower, but the timing was always in question. Even if the fundamentals and the markets indicated something should go up, it didn't necessarily do so, and the same was true of downward movement. That was exactly what was happening with gold and silver at the moment, where retail momentum was pushing prices higher while the fundamentals, including the price spread, indicated that prices should fall.

Instead of having lunch with Haley, I picked up the photos I had taken the previous week and went to the passport office to fill out my application. I submitted the required documents, including my birth certificate, and the clerk informed me that the current waiting time was about six weeks. My documents would be returned by mail as soon as they were reviewed, but the passport wouldn't arrive before mid-March at the earliest. When I returned to the office, I ate my lunch at my desk.

That afternoon, I completed my research report on Dow Jones and Nexis and concluded that Nexis was the better offering. I handed in the report with my recommendation, and Mr. Matheson said he'd review it and advise me on the next steps. After that, I continued my research until just before 4:00pm when the phone rang.

"FX Desk, Kane," I said.

"Jonathan, it's Bill Wyatt. Do you have a moment?"

"Yes."

"There's been an interesting turn of events," he said. "The owners of the original house you looked at on Ridge let me know they would accept your offer at 7% below list. The owners of the house on Morse countered at 7% below list."

"Do you have an opinion?" I asked.

"I'm required to tell you that I'm the listing agent on the house on Ridge, which means I receive the full commission; for the house on Morse, I'm the buyer's agent, which means I only receive a portion of the commission."

"Understood," I replied.

"Are you so fundamentally predisposed to reject a counteroffer that you won't consider the house on Morse?"

"No, I'm not. Would they be amenable to a counter to their counter?"

"Possibly. What are you thinking?"

"First, how long do I have to decide on the house on Ridge?"

"You're under no obligation as they rejected your offer, so technically, they're making you an offer, which you can accept or reject at your leisure, with the caveat they could sell to another buyer."

That meant I was free to act on the house on Morse. I had thought it through, and a higher offer, contingent on them replacing the boiler, would mean that I wouldn't have to lay out thousands of dollars in cash to replace the boiler. That said, the hideous appliances simply had to go!

"OK," I replied. "Then for the house on Morse, my rough guess was replacing the boiler would be about 5% of the list price. Offer 3% under list on the condition they replace the boiler with a system that meets my approval. If it's less expensive than I estimate, they can pocket the difference as profit."

"According to the listing agent," Mr. Wyatt said, sounding amused, "they anticipated something like that and would be amenable. Let me call the agent and see if the offer is sufficient. I'll get back to you soon."

"Thanks."

I disconnected the call, then dialed Anala's number, and was happy when she answered the phone.

"Anala Subramani!" she said when she answered the phone.

"You really, really need to buy an answering machine!" I said.

"Jonathan?"

"None other," I replied. "I've been trying to reach you for the best part of two months!"

"I've been super busy with school and some other stuff going on in my life."

"What's his name?" I asked.

Anala laughed softly, "Steve, and he's from Milford, Ohio, of all places."

"A hop, skip, and a jump from where I lived growing up. How'd you meet him?"

"He's at IIT in their CS program."

"Hindu?"

"No, but very spiritual in his own way."

"And is that enough?"

"We're simply friends at the moment, not all that dissimilar to you and me."

"Except that he gets to see you."

"OK, I deserved that," Anala said. "But I am really busy. Are you able to meet for lunch on Tuesdays or Thursdays? I could come to you."

"Yes. I have an hour, and there are several good delis close to the Hancock Center."

"How about Tuesday of next week?"

"That sounds good. I'll meet you in the lobby of the Hancock Center at 11:30am, if that works for you?"

"It does. See you then! And I'm sorry I've been difficult to reach."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, making a mental note to buy an answering machine for Anala. Just before 5:00pm, the phone rang again.

"FX Desk, Kane."

"Bill Wyatt. They accepted your counter to their counter for the house on Morse. Could I stop by your house tonight to get you to sign an offer and contract?"

"I have class and won't be home until between 9:00pm and 9:30pm. How about tomorrow during the day? You could come to the office."

"That will work. Any time better than others?"

"No. Just take the elevator to 30 and ask the receptionist for me. She'll call, and I'll come up to sign. I will need a copy of the offer and the listing for my mortgage application."

"I'll bring the listing and appraisal, as well as the comparables, because they'll want those, too. And the offer and contract both use a triplicate form, so I'll be able to provide you with a copy immediately."

"Excellent!" I replied. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I said 'goodbye', disconnected the call, then shut down my computer and the Bloomberg terminal, then signed out of the IBM system and turned off the terminal. I straightened my desk, per policy, so that no information was visible to any casual observer, locked my desk, then left the office to head to class.

I decided against saying anything about the house to anyone except Bianca and Shelly until we had a signed contract, which would happen sometime on Tuesday. I had my usual dinner with Violet, went to class, and, after class, had coffee and pie with Violet before heading home.

"Did you hear from the real estate agent?" Bianca asked literally the second I stepped through the door.

"Hi, Honey, I'm home," I teased. "Did you have a good day?"

"Sorry!" Bianca exclaimed. "I should have greeted you first."

"I did, and the people who own the house on Ridge changed their minds and said they would be willing to accept an offer. The ones on Morse countered."

"So Ridge, then?"

"No, I countered the counter for Morse with one that increased the offer price on the condition they replaced the boiler with a unit that meets with my approval. They agreed, so I'm going to sign an offer and a contract tomorrow."

"Cool! So that means we won't have to worry about having the boiler replaced while we're living there."

"And I won't have to lay out the cash, which is helpful because those hideous avocado green appliances just have to go!"

"Esthetics have value?" Bianca asked.

"Yes. I'm not purely utilitarian. And in that vein, I intend to buy a pair of paintings from Deanna for the great room and one for my bedroom."

"Abstract, right?"

"Yes."

"What else will we need?"

"Right away? Not much, really, except some kind of bed for the attic room, which I plan to use for the computer but want as an additional guest room if we need it."

"Did Jack commit?"

"He did. He's not sure if Kristy will formally move in or keep her dorm, but I bet she moves in, and I bet they marry before she finishes her undergraduate degree."

"Too soon in your mind, right?"

"No. They're perfect for each other, and they're both sure the other person is the 'right one'. At that point, there's no reason to delay. I've said it'll be a few years for me, but if there's a 'bolt of lightning', I'm not going to ignore it."

"So, a smoking hot Sicilian girl will do it for you?" Bianca teased.

"I don't think Michael Corleone is a good role model, though Apolonia was really sexy."

"And supposed to be sixteen!" Bianca declared.

"And Juliette in the Shakespeare play is supposed to be thirteen or fourteen. It's fiction!"

"Sixteen is legal in a bunch of states," Bianca replied.

"But not this one and that's what matters," I replied. "Remember, my securities licenses depend on being law-abiding, and even a hint of being a lawbreaker can get me into trouble with the SEC or CFTC or one of the other 'alphabet soup' regulatory agencies. Not worth it."

"Back to the house; when would we move?"

"I have a forty-five-day closing, so sometime after March 15th. I think we should plan to do a thorough cleaning, top to bottom, paint all the walls, and have the new appliances delivered and set up before we move in."

"That makes sense. What about the week of Spring Break? That starts March 28th. Do you think you could take vacation that week?"

"I'll ask, but I should be able to. I have plenty of days in my vacation time bank. I'll ask tomorrow."

"Then we should be able to clean, paint, have the appliances delivered, and move in, don't you think? I'm sure some of the other girls would help that week."

"That sounds good to me. I'll put in for the time off tomorrow and notify our landlord that we'll move out by April 15th. I'm on the hook for about three months' rent at that point, but I'll offer her forty bucks for every week that she rents it before August 1st to encourage her not to wait."

"You have it all figured out!"

"That was actually based on a suggestion my uncle made. By the way, keep this all to yourself. It's OK to tell Shelly, but until I have the paperwork, it's not a done deal. Well, I need to have the mortgage approved, but from what I read in the employee handbook, that's basically a lock. But I'm not counting my chickens before they hatch!"

"Is Ellie still coming over?"

"That was what we agreed, but it's another ten minutes before I promised I'd be home. Let me go get out of this monkey suit, and I'll be right back down."

I went up to my room and changed out of my suit and into sweatpants and a rugby shirt, along with warm wool socks, then went back downstairs to the front room where Bianca was explaining the plan to Shelly.

"I think it's a great plan," Shelly said. "What will the rent be for us?"

"I think it stays the same," I replied. "Jack will kick in, obviously, and I also have the tax deduction for interest on the mortgage as well as property taxes, which actually might make my net total monthly outlay only slightly higher than what I'm covering here, plus I'll be building equity."

The doorbell rang, interrupting the conversation, and I went to open it to find Ellie and a cute Oriental girl.

"Hi!" Ellie exclaimed. "This is Keiko Suzuki; she gave me a ride."

"Hi, Keiko," I said.

"Will you be able to drive me to Loyola tomorrow, or will she need to come get me?"

"I usually leave at about 6:20am, so if we leave by 6:10am, I can drop you at your dorm."

"Cool!" Ellie exclaimed, then turned to her friend. "Thanks, Keiko!"

"You're welcome!" Keiko said. "Nice to meet you, Jonathan."

"Nice to meet you as well."

She walked down the steps from the porch to her double-parked Toyota, and Ellie came into the house. Once Keiko was safely in her car, I closed the door.

"Japanese?"

"Japanese-American. Her grandparents lived in Hawai´i before World War II, and had mvoed to California. They came to Chicago just before the war and avoided being interned at Manzanar. Her grandfather runs a dōjō on Halsted."

"I've seen it," I replied. "I walked by it many times when I lived down in University Village because it was just down the street from the laundromat I used. Does she practice karate?"

"No. She's from a traditional Japanese family, and girls don't train."

"I know I saw girls training there," I countered.

"Yes, her grandfather permits that, but her mom and dad would object, so she instead learned tea ceremonies and other traditional Japanese customs."

"I bet she looks really cute in traditional Japanese garb."

"She does. I'm wondering if you thought I was bringing her with me."

"The thought did briefly cross my mind based on past history," I replied. "Shall we go up to bed?"

"Yes!"

Ninety minutes later, after screwing, sixty-nine, and screwing, we lay together with Ellie snuggled close.

"I want to say something," I said.

"Is this a 'we should talk' moment?" she asked apprehensively.

"Not the way you mean, which is why I didn't use that phrase. I just want to make sure we're on the same page, or at least that you understand where I'm coming from."

"You mean about being a couple, right?"

"Yes. I know that's something you want, but I don't want you to get the wrong impression. At this point, and saying nothing about the future, I'm not ready to make any commitments. I don't expect that to change for some time, either. What I guess I'm saying is that if you're waiting for that or expecting that, you shouldn't. On the other hand, if you want to be friends and have fun together now and again, that's perfectly OK."

Ellie sat up so she could look at me.

"I guess I want to know if it's possible or if...well, if I'm wasting my time."

"I suppose that depends on what you consider wasting time. If you mean you're not seeing anyone else because you're hoping for something more between us, then I suppose the answer is 'yes'. What I'm saying is that it's not impossible, but beyond that, I can't really say any more right now. May I give you an example?"

"Sure."

"Without naming names, several of the girls who are interested long-term are also dating other guys, mainly for the same reason -- they aren't ready to make a lifetime commitment, but they also see a possibility for the future. That's cool with me because I won't apply a double standard."

"You mean they have sex with other guys?"

"I know specifically that at least one of them does because she mentioned it. But it's none of my business, really. I mean, they know I have sex with other girls, and you, personally, have seen me do that!"

Ellie laughed softly, "True."

"In the end, it's up to you if you can accept the terms, so to speak. If you can, I'm happy to keep seeing you; if not, well, then you'll break it off."

"Do you care? At all?"

"I think the only way to answer that question is to say that I like you and that I enjoy our time together and would like to keep seeing you. You've probably noticed I don't do emotions or drama."

"No kidding!" Ellie said.

"And that might well make your decision for you," I replied. "I'm logical and analytical both at work and in my private life, and that's not likely to change."

"You won't ever love anyone?"

"I have, and I will, but I won't be driven by what is, essentially, an electrochemical reaction if I remember correctly from my human anatomy class."

"That's cold," Ellie declared.

"I'm just being honest with you."

"You honestly don't believe there's more to it than just that?"

"I honestly don't. You come into existence when you're born and go out of existence when you die. No soul, or anything like that, is necessary, or in my opinion, even exists."

"So life is futile?"

"Only if your goal is to live forever! I can improve my little part of the world and impact my friends and business associates, have kids, and so on. None of that goes away when I die. So, in a sense, I live on in my kids and grandkids and in the lives of people who I interacted with, and perhaps I leave a legacy of philanthropic giving like Andrew Carnegie. That actually does more good for the world than the idea of Heaven, which, if it existed, would only benefit the individual. In a sense, wanting to go to Heaven is selfish."

"Wow!" Ellie exclaimed. "You are hardcore!"

"And that's a consideration for anyone who might want a long-term relationship with me."

VI. That's The Last Thing I Need

February 1, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Still OK to come over tomorrow night?" Ellie asked as I pulled up in front of her dorm early on Tuesday morning.

"Yes," I replied.

After I stopped, she leaned over and kissed me, then grabbed her bag and hopped out. I waited until she went into the dorm, which she did after waving to me. As I headed towards North Michigan Avenue, I considered the situation with Ellie. Nothing really had changed from my perspective, and, ultimately, she'd chosen to continue our relationship. I'd given her a straight answer and made sure she knew exactly where we stood, so I was confident there would be no false hopes.

I arrived at the office and, as usual, made a fresh pot of coffee, then after reviewing the overnight news, sat down to write my daily report. The world continued to be relatively calm, though there were still US Marines in Beirut, the Soviets were still in Afghanistan, and rhetoric from the Reagan Administration against the USSR was strong.

I finished my report, put it on Mr. Matheson's desk, then took some time to review my portfolios. Just after 9:00am, the receptionist, Anne, called to let me know Bill Wyatt was in the lobby. I went up to 30 and met Mr. Wyatt, who had filled out all the documents, so all that was needed was my signature and the date on each. After I signed, he put the copies into an envelope which already held the listing sheet, the appraisal, and a list of comparable houses and their sales prices. I thanked him, shook his hand, and went straight to the Personnel office.

"Hi, Jonathan!" Haley said, greeting me.

"Hi. I need to fill out a Spurgeon mortgage application."

"Do you have your sales contract?"

"I do, along with some other things my real estate agent said you would need -- the listing, an appraisal, and a list of comparable houses which sold recently."

"Perfect! You're basically one step ahead. Most of the information we'll take straight from your file. Did you list all your previous work experience on your application?"

"I did."

"Do you have an attorney?"

"I do. I'll give you his card."

"Then really all you need to do is give me the documents, sign a form, and you'll receive an answer from Mr. Spurgeon no later than Monday of next week."

"That fast?"

"You're on the pre-approved list. That happened when you brought in that large account. That means all I need to do is run a credit check and so long as there isn't anything negative, it's done. If there is something negative, Mr. Spurgeon will speak to you about it. You've never filed for bankruptcy, right?"

"Correct."

"And no court judgments against you for failing to pay a debt?"

"None."

"Then, with the caveat that I can't commit Mr. Spurgeon to anything, I'd say you're in very good shape. Once you receive approval, I'll provide you with a loan commitment letter, and the funds will be available fourteen days from the approval date. We'll just need to know the exact amount the title company needs for the Cashier's check. Your attorney can work with the real estate agent and seller's attorney to sort that out."

"Thanks!"

She went to the filing cabinet, returned with a file folder, and took a form from her desk drawer. She put the form into her typewriter and quickly typed in my name, address, social security number, the address of the house, and the sales price, along with both Bill Wyatt's and Nelson Boyd's addresses and phone numbers. She had me review it, I signed and dated it, then handed it back to her.

"See you at lunch today?" she asked.

"Yes."

I left the Personnel office and returned to my desk, where I placed calls to Nelson, as well as my CPA, Robert Black, and let them know about the contract for the house. Nelson promised to get in touch with Mr. Wyatt to contact the seller's attorney, and Mr. Black asked for copies of the documents once the purchase was complete.

I spent the rest of the morning reading news, research reports, and financial newsletters. I had learned in my first seven days in my new role what a torrent of information was available and why Mr. Matheson needed three analysts. There was simply no way he and the other traders could even begin to read and assimilate everything.

Tony, Paige, and I distilled the tsunami of information into single-page analyst reports that summarized the key factors that would affect the markets that mattered for the FX Desk -- equities, fixed income, commodities, and currency. The entire process made it abundantly clear the disadvantage to retail investors -- a person who was trading on his own through a stockbroker -- even if they understood all the concepts, it was simply impossible for them to gather, assimilate, and act on the data that was available.

The other major advantage that professionals like Mr. Matheson had was dealing directly with other trading desks and floor brokers. That, combined with the volume of trades, especially in FX, meant being able to negotiate prices and terms rather than making 'at market' trades. That access had helped me buy and sell the Bolivar contracts and options, as Mr. Monroe had received the order and simply made a phone call to someone who dealt directly in that currency.

Similarly, my gold and silver contracts and options had been transmitted to Kristy's dad on the floor of the CBOT -- the Chicago Board of Trade -- where he'd completed the transactions by talking to a counterpart with another firm. A retail investor would need to go through a personal broker, which would add an additional layer and wouldn't get nearly as good a price. The difference might be an eighth of a point on a stock or bond or a tenth of a percent on a currency trade, but in the volumes Spurgeon traded, that could be hundreds of thousands of dollars of extra profit. Quite often, the spread between the price Spurgeon could get and what a retail investor might pay was enough that profiting from simple arbitrage was common.

Fundamentally, I had been invited into an elite and exclusive club. I'd been able to get my foot in the door through my uncle's friendship with Noel Spurgeon, then taken advantage of every opportunity to get to where I was. The key now was to prove I had the chops to make decisions rather than recommendations. I'd prove that by the returns in my Cincinnatus Fund as well as Jeri's trust fund, which, unfortunately, had to be segregated. That meant, given the constraints on the trust fund, that I couldn't take advantage of the total capital I was managing the way I could if the funds were unrestricted.

That said, if my bets on gold, silver, and the Bolivar paid off, and the stocks for which I had recently gone long or short moved as I expected, I'd have enough money to take larger positions, and that would improve my chances of big scores, though it would also open me to large potential losses. I would certainly make mistakes, and the key was ensuring that I recognized the mistakes and got out of those positions with speed and finesse to limit the losses.

Just before 11:00am, I received a call from Johan Maus, the Nexis pre-sales engineer, who urged me to see a demonstration of their system at the University of Chicago, where the research library had a subscription. I conferred with Mr. Matheson, and he authorized me to agree to the demonstration, then report back. Johan did his best to get 'the decision maker' to be at the demo, but I made it clear that Mr. Spurgeon would only agree to see a demo once I had validated their system. After checking his calendar and offering several dates, we agreed I'd meet him on February 18th at 1:00pm at the University of Chicago in Hyde Park.

"The house seems nice, at least on paper," Haley said when we sat down in the break room on 29.

We could use the break room in my work area rather than the Support Services break room on 30, as Personnel wasn't restricted from socializing with the 'professional staff' the way Mr. Nelson's Mailroom, Security, and Information Services teams were.

"It needs work," I replied. "If you read the contract, they have to replace the boiler before the sale completes, the floors all need to be stripped and sanded, the walls need minor repairs and need to be painted, the appliances are that hideous avocado green from the early seventies, and I suspect the water heater will need replacing, and the central air will need servicing."

"Don't you think that's normal for a house built eighty years ago?"

"I do, though the current owners let some maintenance go, which, had they done, might have garnered them a higher price. Though, given what other houses are selling for, maybe not. It's hard to sell with interest rates where they are."

"What will your mortgage payment be? I don't actually get to see that information."

"Just over $700 on a fifteen-year mortgage. Taxes add another $100 or so."

"And you have roommates now, right?"

"Two. They'll move with me, and Jack is moving in as well."

"So, really, your monthly outlays are pretty small."

"There are also utilities, ongoing maintenance, and so on, but with four roommates, it's easily affordable. And when the time comes, I plan to form an REIT and rent it out. Ultimately, I'd like to own several houses, two-flats, or four-flats for the income."

"That's a very Chicago thing to do!"

I nodded, "I first heard about that from my firefighter friends but then read about it in the local papers. It's fairly easy to make a profit if you can find properties to buy and have the capital to make the necessary down payments. Rents easily cover your costs, and you gain equity."

"What happens if you decide to get married?"

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it; well, unless that's a proposal."

Haley laughed softly, "Not today, anyway!"

"Good, because today, I'd have to say 'no'."

"But in the future?" Haley asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Ask me again in the future! We're still getting to know each other."

"I have a question about something I don't quite understand."

"Go on," I said with a smile, suspecting what she was about to say.

"You've been the 'perfect gentleman' to an extreme. Why?"

"At first, because you work for Spurgeon. Remember, I was wary of even going out with you because of that."

"And now?"

"You still work for Spurgeon," I replied.

"Seriously?" Haley asked, voicing it as an objection.

"Remember what we discussed about getting involved?"

"I do, but didn't everything change last Monday?"

"My leeriness about dating anyone who worked for Spurgeon didn't change with switching sides of the equation. When I was working in Support Services, the benefit of the doubt would have gone to Rachel if she'd complained. Now, the benefit of the doubt goes to me, or, if we're honest, I would prevail by default. That's the true source of the problem now, and I suspect strongly you've seen that happen."

"Sure, but doesn't that put you in a position to change your opinion?"

"I don't like the system," I replied. "And that's why I want to stay out of it. That said, I'm also not willing to write off a relationship with you."

"So then what?" Haley asked. "I find a new job, and you'll suddenly be a different person?"

"No, I'll be the same person, but the circumstances will be different, and it won't give the wrong impression."

"You just explained everything in that one sentence," Haley observed. "You think the other licensed professionals will think you're one of them! And you don't want to be thought of that way."

"That's especially true, given they all know about Rachel Kealty. Do you want them to all think you're behaving like the secretaries?"

"No, of course not!"

"And yet, what will happen if people know we're involved?"

"It's too late for that, I suspect," Haley said. "Nobody but Support Staff or Personnel saw us in the break room on 30. Here, anyone on this floor, which includes six Suits, as you used to call the fraternity you're now part of, has certainly seen us have lunch together, not to mention the Christmas party."

"You're right, of course," I replied. "Jack obviously knew we were seeing each other beyond the party but would never say anything."

"So if the cat's out of the bag..."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Do you think I could change what anyone here thinks? Ask Anna about that."

"Sending me to talk to the Swedish girl seems like a bad life plan if you think there's a possibility of a future together," I teased.

"The same rules would apply to her, right?" Haley asked.

"Except you're sending me to her to change my opinion, so if she does, there's a risk!"

"You are SO full of yourself!" Haley declared, but she was laughing.

"Except she made it clear she'd be receptive to me asking her out," I replied, "so I can be sure."

"But you turned her down?"

"For the same exact reason, I was wary about going out with you. You didn't disagree, actually, because you made the point about finding a new job if we became serious."

"But now you seem to be saying that I have to get a new job before we can be serious, but there's no guarantee we'll be serious if I get a new job. It seems like a Catch-22, or at least betting heavily on an uncertain future. If that was the case, why even start seeing me?"

"First of all, if you recall, I said 'no' several times and told you why. You were persistent and talked me into the Christmas Party date. And then pressed for another date. I'm not complaining, by the way, just reciting the sequence of events. Each time, I told you my concerns, and you acknowledged them. Now, you're asking why I started seeing you?"

Haley frowned, then nodded, "I did pressure you."

"I'm a big boy and could have said 'no'. I didn't feel pressured, but you were incredibly persistent. Don't get me wrong, I like you, and I'm attracted to you, but I shouldn't have bent my rule. Well, broke it if I apply it to all Spurgeon employees, not just secretaries and professional staff."

"Are you saying you don't want to go out on Friday?"

"I don't know what I'm saying, actually," I replied. "You would agree it's a good rule, given the shenanigans that go on around here, right?"

"I think I'd make it more nuanced and say that supervisors shouldn't sleep with their underlings. That's the real problem. You don't have any real power over me, the way a trader has power over his secretary, or any secretary, for that matter. Or analyst."

"I was fairly certain they were hired for the brains."

"And I was hired for my body?" Haley asked.

"Sorry," I said quickly. "I meant they weren't targets in the same way."

"You might look a bit closer and revise your theory," Haley suggested.

"I'd rather not and just take your word for it. Somebody has to put a stop to it."

"Which is why you have your rule. Lead by example, as it were?"

"Yes," I agreed.

"I don't think it'll stop until Noel Spurgeon retires, if even then. Well, unless the government cracks down, but for that to happen, someone would have to make an employment claim, and those are notoriously hard to win."

"Not to mention the payoffs and non-disclosure agreements," I added.

"I think I understand a little better now. Let me think about what to do, OK?"

"Of course," I replied. "Just make sure you do what's best for you because I'm in no position to make any promises."

"I think part of it is that I keep forgetting that you're only twenty. Most people in your position would be twenty-five, at least. A few rare ones are twenty-two or twenty-three. You're the youngest licensed securities professional in the history of Spurgeon."

"What about Friday?" I asked.

"I think it's best we cancel," Haley replied. "At least until I figure out the right course of action. Going out will only frustrate me because there's basically an uncrossable line. And the more I think about it, the more I see your point, even if I don't like the end result."

That meant I'd need a date for Friday, and given I'd thought of Miranda when I'd spoken to her dad earlier, I wondered if she'd be interested in going out. I knew Lily was busy, and I'd be seeing her for dinner in a week, and I didn't want to send the wrong message to Ellie. I had a few hours to think about it, so I didn't have to decide right away.

"That makes sense," I replied.

"You aren't seeing anyone serious enough for me to be concerned, are you?"

"No. As I said to one of my roommates, barring an Apolonia/Michael Corleone style lightning bolt, years."

"I know that's a Godfather reference," Haley said, "but I actually never saw it."

"Basically, Michael Corleone is hiding out in Sicily after being involved in a mob hit and sees a beautiful sixteen-year-old girl, and that's all she wrote for him."

Haley laughed, "Older guys do like their teenagers!"

"I know a teacher at Goshen High who married a former student not long after she graduated. He was thirty-four."

And the weird thing was, I hadn't thought of Mr. Kingman and Kimberly when Bev had told me who she'd been with, nor had I thought about it when I'd seen him at the school. I had no clue if Mr. Kingman and Kimberly had been together before she graduated, but it seemed logical they had.

"When was that?" Haley asked.

"About six years ago, when I had just started High School."

"When did she have the baby?" Haley asked.

"That was the rumor that had tongues wagging, but their first kid was born when I was a Senior."

"Was he allowed to stay a teacher?"

"He's still teaching science at Goshen," I replied. "I actually saw him when I was in Ohio to be with Bev at her hearing."

"How is she?"

"Not good," I replied. "I'm doing what I can to help, but the situation is a mess and until she figures out what she wants, all I can do is to be supportive."

"But you might end up with her?" Haley asked.

"It's possible, yes, but at this point, I wouldn't say it was likely."

"Because of her or because of you?"

"It's such a mess that I can't even rightly say," I replied.

Which was why I was really looking forward to my lunch with Anala.

We finished our lunches, Haley went back to 30, and I went back to my desk. I wasn't thrilled with the situation, but I felt it was best. Had she not mentioned other reasons for looking for a new job, I might have made a different decision, but then again, I might not have. The last thing I wanted was for the secretaries to think I was playing the game, so to speak. I wasn't and wouldn't.

About an hour later, just before 2:00pm, the phone rang.

"FX Desk, Kane."

"Jonny, it's Bev. I made it safely to St. Louis."

"OK. I put the check in the mail yesterday, so you should have it by Thursday at the latest."

"I really appreciate it. I know you care."

"I do. What did you say in the letter you sent to your parents?"

"That I need time to get my head screwed on straight and not to worry."

"They will."

"Obviously, but my dad was impossible."

Of that, I had no doubt.

"He loves you, Bev," I said. "He's concerned for you, just as I am."

"But you just accept me, Jonny," Bev replied. "You don't judge or pressure me or anything like that."

"I think I might behave differently as a dad," I replied. "I'm not sure, but I bet so."

"No, you'll still be yourself, and you'll care, but you won't be an ogre."

"Call me soon, Bev," I requested. "At least to let me know you received the check, but I want to hear from you."

"I'll call you when the check arrives, but then I just need time, OK? I promise I'll call, but it might be a few weeks. Just let it be and do that for me, Jonny."

"I don't like it," I replied, "but if that's what you want, I'll do it."

"I'll call you when the check arrives."

"OK. Let me have the phone number there, just in case."

She gave it to me, and I wrote it into my address book.

"Take care, Bev," I said, "and call me if you need anything, day or night. Promise?"

"Jonny..."

"Promise me, Bev."

"I promise," she sighed.

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up. I knew at some point I'd hear from her parents, most likely sometime later in the day, when they realized she hadn't come home. I was not looking forward to what would be an uncomfortable conversation because I couldn't lie, but I also couldn't break my word to Bev. At least I probably had four or five hours before he'd call.

The rest of the day was my new routine, and at 5:00pm I took the passenger elevator to the lobby, then the stairs to the parking garage. Twenty-five minutes later, I pulled into the garage at home.

"Bev's dad called for you about ten minutes ago," Shelly said when I walked into the house. "He wants you to call him right away."

Which made sense given it was past the usual time the Newtons ate dinner, as Ohio time was an hour later than Chicago time.

"This is going to be fun," I groused.

"You know where she is, and she swore you to secrecy?"

"Right the first time. I'll change, then call him. Dinner is the usual time?"

"Yes. Bianca is making burritos and refried beans."

"One of my favorites!"

"Mine, too!" Shelly agreed.

I went upstairs and changed clothes, then picked up the phone. With more than a bit of trepidation, I dialed Bev's house, or, more correctly now, her parents' house, as she was in St. Louis.

"Newton residence," Mr. Newton said when he answered the phone on the second ring.

"It's Jonathan," I said. "My housemate said you called."

"I didn't realize you had a female housemate."

"Two, actually; they have their own room. But I'm positive that's not why you called."

"Is Bev with you?"

"No," I replied.

"Is she on her way there?"

"No."

"Do you know where she is?" he asked.

There was no way I could lie to him, though I would refuse his next question.

"Yes."

"Stop with the 'Twenty Questions' answers!" Mr. Newton demanded exasperatedly. "Where is she?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," I replied.

"GOD DAMN IT! ANSWER MY QUESTION! WHERE IS SHE?"

"I cannot answer that question because I made a promise to Bev. She and Heather are safe, and that's all I can say."

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT BULL! WHERE THE HELL IS SHE?!"

"Mr. Newton, if you think I would ever betray Bev, you truly don't know me or understand me."

"I'm going to call the Sheriff!"

"I don't think that's wise," I replied.

"THEN TELL ME WHERE SHE IS FOR PETE'S SAKE!"

"I can't do that," I replied. "She and Heather are safe. That's all I can say."

He slammed down the phone, and I replaced the handset in the cradle of the SlimLine phone. I contemplated what to do, wondering what would happen if he called the Sheriff as he'd said he was going to do. I had no idea, so I pulled my address book from my satchel and dialed Nelson's home number. His wife answered and called him to the phone.

"Jonathan?" he said. "Is there a problem?"

"Maybe. Bev decided to leave her parents' house but didn't tell them she was leaving or where she was going. Her dad just called here demanding to know if she was with me or on her way here, and I truthfully said she wasn't. He then demanded to know where she was, and I refused to tell him. He said he was going to call the Clermont County Sheriff."

"You do know where she is, correct?"

"Yes. But she swore me to secrecy, and I gave my word that I wouldn't say anything other than that she and Heather were safe."

"How old is she?"

"Eighteen; she'll be nineteen in June."

"The Sheriff may or may not take a 'missing person' report right away. A lot will depend on whether Bev's dad believes she's in imminent danger or that foul play was involved. She's over eighteen, so she's not a 'runaway'. Are there any court orders she's subject to?"

"None of which I'm aware, and I'm positive she would have told me."

"Then the local Sheriff may well ask her parents to sit tight for a few days to see if she returns. I don't know the protocol for the Sheriff's office there, but the CPD would possibly take a report and come see you, but they also might tell her parents to sit tight for a day or two, so long as they didn't think she was in danger."

"She's not."

"Where is she? I know you promised, but as your attorney, I can only advise you if I have full information. You aren't violating your promise any more than if you spoke to a priest in confession."

"Like that would ever happen!" I chuckled.

"Sorry, being Catholic in a largely Catholic city, it's the most common analogy."

"She's with friends in St. Louis," I replied. "A family I knew before they moved from the Cincinnati area to St. Louis. They have an eighteen-year-old daughter. The dad is an airline pilot for TWA."

"Do you know the address?"

"Yes. I have a phone number, too."

"If the CPD or FBI come to see you, they'll ask you for those."

"FBI?"

"Interstate missing persons are nearly always referred to the FBI, though there's some discretion on the part of local law enforcement when the person is over eighteen, and there doesn't appear to be any foul play."

"Do I have to answer? Can't I 'take the Fifth'?"

"That only protects you from self-incrimination, not from answering questions unrelated to any crime with which you might be charged. If you refuse to talk to them, they can, and probably will, detain you on something like 'obstruction of justice' charges so they can get you before a judge who'll order you to answer under threat of a contempt citation, and he can lock you up until you answer."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. And there's one other consideration -- your securities licenses require you to coöperate with ALL government investigations, not just financial crimes. They could suspend your license until you answer."

"I remember that from the course. The instructor said that almost never happens, and usually only when it has some relationship to securities trading or taxes."

"Have you assisted her in any way?"

"I sent her money," I replied.

"It's thin, but it's enough for them to say it's 'financial' even if we could beat them in court if they ever actually charged you. My advice as your counsel is to answer their questions truthfully. You can say that she made you promise not to tell and that she doesn't want her parents to know. In fact, do say that before you answer. It doesn't prevent them from telling her parents, but if they speak to her and there is nothing untoward going on, they will likely simply report that she's safe and doesn't want them to know where she is."

"If he does call the Clermont County Sheriff, what should I expect?"

"Perhaps a phone call from them, perhaps a visit from one of four agencies -- CPD, FBI, Cook County Sheriff, or Illinois State Police. Sheriffs usually like to speak to Sheriffs, so that would be my bet, though it could also be some combination of those agencies. Just tell the truth, and, by all means, let them know she is over eighteen and does not want to be found or have any contact with her parents. The decision on that will come down to the FBI and whoever is responsible for law enforcement in St. Louis, likely the city police department, but possibly a Sheriff."

"Is there any risk for me?"

"Not from law enforcement, so long as you answer their questions. I can't speak to the risks from a dad with a shotgun!"

I chuckled, "Mr. Newton doesn't own a shotgun, though he does have a deer rifle. But if he intended to use it on me, that would have happened when he found out Bev and I were fooling around. That said, he might well use it on the baby's father if he were ever to find out."

"You know who he is?"

"Bev told me."

"That should not factor into this, and I doubt they'll even ask, but they might."

"Why?"

"To see if he knows where she is."

"He doesn't know, and she never intends to tell him. I disagree with her on that, but she swore me to secrecy."

"Just remember one important thing in all of this, Jonathan -- lying to the federal government about anything is a federal felony. There is a theory, at least among some writers of law journal articles, that denying you committed a crime when you actually did could be considered to be a violation of the statute. Nobody knows for sure, so your best bet is the Fifth Amendment if you're being investigated or might be. In this case, though, your only option is to answer or risk arrest and a threat of a contempt citation."

"That's the last thing I need."

"Then answer all their questions truthfully and completely. As I said, it's perfectly OK to tell them that she does not want the information relayed to her parents or anyone else. But you cannot prevent them from doing whatever it is they decide to do."

"Got it. Thanks."

"No problem. Just remember, tell the truth, completely and fully. Don't put your securities licenses at risk."

"Message received loud and clear."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, checked my watch, and saw I had enough time before dinner to call Miranda. I reached her just before she was going to join the other girls in Ellie's group at Loyola in the cafeteria for dinner.

"Just me?" she asked after I invited her on a date on Friday.

"Yes, just you. Well, we'll go to dinner with Jack and Kristy and probably do something after dinner, but then I'm yours until around noon on Saturday."

"Anything I want?"

"Anything you want."

"Thanks for thinking of me!" Miranda gushed.

We said 'goodbye', and I headed downstairs to have dinner with Bianca and Shelly.

"These are awesome!" I exclaimed after taking a bite of my burrito."

"Thanks!" Bianca replied. "Interested in tacos later?"

"Tacos?" I asked.

Bianca and Shelly both laughed.

"A euphemism for pussy!" Bianca declared. "A pink taco."

"I've never heard that one!" I replied. "Probably because I never had a taco before we moved in together. I mean, the regular kind!"

"Duh!" Bianca said with a laugh. "Did you know any Mexicans back in Ohio?"

"No, my school was close to one hundred percent Anglo. There were half a dozen black kids in the entire High School, and the only Spanish speaker was a girl from Spain whose dad moved to Cincinnati to work for GE."

"Beaver?" Shelly asked.

"That one I've heard," I replied. "Also 'muff', 'cooch', and a word that starts with 'c' that Bev REALLY hated."

"Cunt?" Shelly asked.

"Yes. Don't ask me why, but Bev heard someone use that word and basically lost it. She got right in the guy's face."

"Probably because it's used as a derogatory term for girls, especially ones who won't put out," Shelly said.

"What did you tell Mr. Newton?" Bianca asked.

"Basically the same thing I told you -- I know where Bev is, and that she's safe. He threatened to call the cops, so after I hung up, I called Nelson to get advice. Basically, if anyone in law enforcement asks, I have to tell them where she is because the Fifth Amendment doesn't apply if I'm not a suspect or might be a suspect."

"But they'll tell her parents!" Shelly protested.

"Nelson says they might not, given she's over eighteen. But there is literally nothing I can do about that without risking getting into trouble. According to Nelson, there is no way to avoid answering the question, and they could even arrest me on charges which might never stick but which would let them get me in front of a judge who could hold me in contempt for not answering. And lying to the government is a crime."

"They lie to us all the time!" Bianca protested.

"That, apparently, isn't a crime," I replied with a grin.

"So, tacos later?" she asked.

"They are tasty!" I replied with a grin.

February 2, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

As was often the case, Bianca and Shelly had gone back to their room to sleep around midnight, so I woke alone on Wednesday morning, showered, and went downstairs to have breakfast. Just over an hour later, I was at my desk, working on my daily report. I hadn't heard anything more about Bev, but as Nelson had said, the Sheriff might wait for a day or two before acting. I thought about calling her but decided to just let it go, especially given she was going to call me when the check arrived, which meant I'd speak to her within a day, anyway.

The first thing I noticed was that spreads for precious metals were increasing, an even stronger indication of a 'correction' to the price, which had run up by more than thirty percent in the last month. Those gains simply weren't sustainable, and when I checked trading volumes in futures contracts, I saw the signs that other traders were acting on the same data that I'd found for Mr. Matheson.

What I found a bit strange was that he could see the spreads, which would have been enough to justify his 'against the market' trades. To me, that was a strong indication he knew something more, making the trade a 'sure thing' rather than simply a bet on fundamentals. What he wanted was plausible deniability if someone discovered something untoward, which made perfect sense.

That was especially true given that prices for silver and gold were basically set by a consortium of banks in London, which also kept a list of reliable counterparties called the Good Delivery List. Companies which were added to the list met specific guidelines for properly managing precious metals trades.

I wondered if someone in London, perhaps someone he knew involved with LIBOR -- the London Inter-Bank Offered Rate -- which was a calculated average interest rate used as the basis for many financial products, had given him inside information. He was in touch with plenty of international bankers, and it was entirely possible the banks were planning some kind of concerted move against gold and silver to gain significant profit by driving the price down.

That would be patently illegal and a violation of securities laws in England and the US, and likely other countries as well, but if Mr. Matheson could show he had good reason to make the trades, which he had from my analyst note he'd filed with Compliance, he'd come out smelling like a rose. I suspected other traders at other firms had similar analyst's notes to back their trades.

I didn't know for certain, obviously, but I had learned quite a bit about how the game was played in the previous two years, and I realized that much of what I'd learned in the licensure course was, in effect, a handbook for cheaters. Simply looking at the regulations could tell you how to cheat, and there were always people who thought they could get away with it. I suspected the big banks could and did do that, including Goldman Sachs, who provided us with prime brokerage services.

As a prime broker, Goldman Sachs, which was also a competitor, provided clearing, finance, and, most importantly, lending of financial products that enabled us to take short positions. Every single short had to be 'covered', as in, actual assets, be they stocks, bonds, precious metals, or whatever they were, had to be in our possession to transfer to the buyer when the sale cleared, usually two days after the transaction was made.

Not having the asset -- a so-called 'naked short' -- was dangerous in that it could easily result in a 'Failure to Deliver'. That would tarnish Spurgeon's reputation and might lead to sanctions by exchanges and a refusal of counterparties to accept trades. It wasn't illegal, but with the requirement that the short seller reasonably believe they could obtain the asset within two days, fraud charges could be brought if the government could show the trader should have known the asset would not be available.

And that was the key function Goldman Sachs provided for us. Without it, anyone at Spurgeon who wanted to take a short position would have to do their own 'locate', that is, find the asset to borrow, something that could be time-consuming. Except in the rarest of instances, Goldman would have, either in their account or in a customer account, the asset we'd need, and we'd pay a fee to whoever owned the security, with Goldman collecting a small fee for providing the service.

I had traded options and futures contracts, so I'd had no need of those services, though the trades had been cleared through Goldman and would be settled by Goldman. In nearly every case, they could simply balance out the various futures contracts and options and make accounting entries on their books, which made things much easier for all parties involved.

I certainly didn't want to take delivery of the gold and silver I'd traded, no matter which way the trade went. I almost laughed at the thought of a Brink's truck showing up at the loading dock with bars of gold and silver. That was clearly possible but not advisable. If I were going to hold bullion, I'd do it with one of the major depositories, not store it myself.

I wasn't surprised when Haley didn't join me for lunch. That bothered me more than I thought it would, but in the end, I had to stick to my rule. I'd bent it hard by going out with her, but I'd also avoided getting involved with her, which was, in the end, the key point. After all, Jack and I were close friends, and I wasn't about to end that friendship.

At 5:00pm, I straightened my desk, locked the drawers, and headed home, happy I hadn't heard from any law enforcement.

VII. A Shared Secret

February 2, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

My happiness about not hearing from law enforcement lasted only until I arrived home and saw a Cook County Sheriff's cruiser and a black Ford sedan with US Government plates parked in front of the house. I drove past, around into the alley, parked the car in the garage, then went into the house where a uniformed Sheriff's Deputy was waiting, along with two men in suits who I guessed were FBI agents.

"Mr. Jonathan Kane?" the Deputy asked.

"Yes, Deputy, I'm Jonathan Kane."

"Deputy Paul Lorenz; and these men are FBI Agents Johnson and Feldman of the Chicago Field Office."

"You're here about Beverly Newton," I said.

"Yes," one of the FBI agents said. "We understand you know her whereabouts."

"I do, and before you ask any further questions, I need to say that she's over eighteen, does not want to have any contact with her parents, and swore me to complete secrecy."

"Are you refusing to give us the information?" the other agent asked.

"No, but I would like you to acknowledge what I just said."

"Listen, kid, don't play games," the first agent said.

"I'm not playing games," I replied. "I simply want you to acknowledge what I told you."

"Where is she?"

"Agent..."

"Feldman."

"Agent Feldman," I said, "I will coöperate if you'll simply acknowledge that Bev is over eighteen and does not want to have any contact with her parents. She isn't 'missing', and she and Heather are perfectly safe."

"Agent," Deputy Lorenz said, "cut the kid some slack. He said he'd coöperate if you acknowledged what he told you. He didn't ask you to make any promises."

"We've heard what you said," Agent Johnson said, putting his hand on his partner's arm.

"Bev and Heather are in St. Louis," I said. "She drove there in her own car, and there is absolutely no foul play here at all. She has sufficient money for her expenses and has a place to stay and has a job lined up."

"We're going to need the address, if you have it."

"I do," I said.

I took my address book from my satchel and read the address aloud, with Deputy Lorenz and Agent Johnson writing it down.

"House?" Agent Johnson asked.

"Yes."

"Whose?"

"James McGill, a pilot for TWA. He's married, though I don't know his wife's name. They have a daughter named Tammy who's eighteen, and Bev was friends with her before the McGills moved to St. Louis about two years ago."

"Why go there?" Agent Johnson asked.

"You'll have to ask Bev because she only shared where she was going, not any discussion she had with them."

"Do you know why she ran away?"

"She's not a runaway," I replied. "She's eighteen and chose to move to Missouri, and last I checked, that's not illegal."

Nor was it any of the government's business, but saying THAT might land me in hot water with the agents.

"Sorry, do you know why she moved?"

"As I said, to get away from her parents. There was a conflict over a child she had out of wedlock, and she decided it was in her best interest to move to St. Louis. I asked her to come here, but she refused."

"Are you the baby's father?"

"No. Bev and I were involved, but the baby was conceived several months after I moved to Chicago, and I hadn't seen Bev from the time I moved until after she was pregnant. What are you going to do?"

"Call our St. Louis Field Office and ask them to check on her. If what you've said is true, they'll close the case. I can't speak for what the AIC there might do, but normally, in cases such as this, the person who filed the missing person report is told the individual is safe and doesn't want to be contacted."

"AIC?" I asked.

"Agent In Charge. Basically, the Agent responsible for running the office. Do you have a card? That way, we can call you if we have further questions."

I took one of my business cards from my satchel and handed it to him.

"Thank you, Mr. Kane," Agent Johnson said.

"You're welcome."

I showed the three of them out of the house, then immediately went upstairs. I quickly changed out of my suit, then dialed the McGill's house. Mrs. McGill answered, and I asked to speak to Bev. She came to the phone a few seconds later.

"Jonny?"

"The FBI and a Cook County Sheriff's Deputy were just here," I said. "You'll probably hear from an agent in St. Louis."

"You promised not to tell!" Bev protested.

"And had I not, I'd have been arrested and held overnight and taken to see a judge who would order me to answer. I checked with my attorney, and there was literally no way I could not give them the McGills' address. The FBI Agent said the usual practice is for them to talk to you to make sure you're OK, then close the case and not tell your parents anything other than that you're safe."

"Arrest you? What about the right to remain silent?"

"That only applies if the government is investigating you for a crime. In this case, I had no choice but to answer. I'm sorry."

Bev sighed deeply, "It's OK."

"Hopefully, what the agent here said is true, and someone from the FBI office in St. Louis will come by, see that you're OK, and simply close the case."

"I hope so."

"I am sorry, Bev."

"I know. Dinner is almost ready, so I need to go. I'll call you when the check arrives."

"And if you need anything."

"And if I need anything," she said reluctantly.

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, then went downstairs for dinner.

"You called Bev?" Bianca asked when I walked into the kitchen.

"Of course. I had to let her know I told the cops where she was. She's not happy."

"You didn't have a choice."

"Obviously, but that doesn't make her any less unhappy."

We had dinner, and later that evening, as planned, Ellie arrived, once again driven to the house by her Japanese-American friend Keiko.

February 3, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Still OK to show up tonight?" Ellie asked as we showered on Thursday morning.

"Yes. Just remember I have class, so I won't be home until around 9:30pm."

"I remember!"

After our shower and breakfast, we left the house. I dropped Ellie at Loyola, then headed to the Hancock Center. As usual, I was the first in the office, at least of those who worked during the day, as Rich, the overnight trader, was close to the end of his shift. I started a fresh pot of coffee, then stopped by Rich's desk.

"Morning," I said. "Anything overnight?"

"Some fluctuation between JPY and other currencies because of high volume, but otherwise, fairly quiet. The gold and silver spreads widened further."

"That's due for a big correction."

"Absolutely. Check the numbers, but I think Murray should extend our short."

"How big was the JPY move?"

"In the end, it only moved a few cents against the dollar, but it was volatile all day."

"OK. I'll check the overnight charts."

I went to my desk, turned on all the equipment, and began reviewing the news from overnight. The state of the world was basically unchanged from Wednesday, with Lebanon, Angola, Nicaragua, and Afghanistan being the main areas of conflict. As Rich had said, the Japanese yen -- JPY -- had been volatile with high volume but had settled only a few pennies lower than it had opened in overnight trading in Tokyo.

I also reviewed the precious metals spreads and wrote a recommendation that we extend our short position as a major correction was built into the spread, with my rough estimate being around the end of February. I also saw some moves in London against the Bolivar, which was confirmation of my analysis that it was likely to be devalued, though the timing was in question.

I wrote my report and had it on Mr. Matheson's desk when he arrived, then reviewed the reports Paige and Tony had written. I didn't see anything that warranted a move with the money I was managing, though my gains were slightly behind my goals. That would change if the major plays I'd made so far paid off or if the stocks performed the way Tony expected them to.

The one thing which I couldn't predict was significant moves by the Federal Reserve. Paul Volcker was still trying to manage the 'stagflation' that Reagan had inherited from Carter, and a change in interest rates could have a significant impact on the market. Generally, the moves were telegraphed in advance, but not always. That said, I could watch the economic reports and have a good idea if a larger-than-usual move might be made at a future meeting.

I spent the day, as I usually did, reading news, checking charts, and watching the market, all with an eye toward gaining an edge for Spurgeon Capital over other investment firms. Bev called just after 3:00pm to say that the check had arrived and that she'd used it to open a new bank account in St. Louis.

"Will you do me another favor?" Bev asked.

"Name it," I said.

"I'll write you a check to withdraw the money that's in my bank account in Ohio, and then you write me a check I can deposit here."

"Why go through all of that?"

"Because my parents will get the bank statement and canceled checks and would see where a check was deposited."

"I can do that," I said. "What about your mail?"

"Really, the only thing that would come to the house is my bank statement, and I won't need it because you know I keep my checkbook updated to the penny."

"OK. Did you hear from the FBI?"

"Yes. They came to the house just before lunch. The two agents asked a bunch of questions but seemed satisfied that I was safe and not here against my will. They'll report that back to the FBI in Ohio, who will notify the Sheriff, who will notify my parents. Supposedly, they won't say where I am."

"You know I disagree with your decision not to tell them, right?"

"Yes, but this is what I need to do, and you promised not to tell them."

"I didn't say I was going to violate my promise to you about that," I said. "Just that I believe you should at least tell them where you are."

"My dad would drive here and try to make me go home, and I don't want to deal with it."

"And Glen?"

"No way! You are the only one who knows besides me. I am not telling anyone else, and especially not him!"

"Bev, he has to suspect. I mean, it's not like he'll have forgotten you guys went to bed together."

"But he won't know for sure, and I want to leave it that way."

I wondered about that. I had told my mom and Mr. Kingman what Heather's blood type was, and if Mom mentioned it to Glen and it matched his blood type, which I believed it would, I was positive he'd be sure that Heather was his.

"It's your decision, obviously, but I don't agree with you on that, either."

"I know, Jonny. It's just...I need time and space. You promised."

"I did," I replied. "And you promised to call me occasionally, and that doesn't mean once a year! I want to hear from you, Bev. You know how much I care for you."

"I know," she sighed. "And as weird as it sounds, that's part of the problem."

"How so?" I asked.

"Because I'm afraid you feel obligated to help me. And that you might do something foolish because of that feeling."

"Have you ever known me to be emotional or act illogically?"

"No, but logic isn't always the answer, Jonny."

"It's served me pretty well so far," I replied. "I want to help you because I care for you, but I'm not acting irrationally."

"It's not helping that worries me. I'm afraid you see me through the eyes of a kid raised by a single mom who never knew his dad."

"Of course I do! How could I do anything else? It's who I am and who I'll always be. But that doesn't mean I'll do something irrational. I thought about all the possible outcomes and all the possible options, and the one I had landed on was inviting you for an extended visit, with the default being that you'd go home and go back to UC.

"It would have been irrational to ask you to move in with me at this point, not because of me, or because of you, or because of Heather, but because of us -- the three of us. I don't know what the future looks like, but I do know enough to know that asking you to move in with me, or anything that looks permanent, would be a mistake. So, no, you don't have to worry about me doing something foolish. The only question now is what you want."

"I don't know," Bev sighed. "That's why I said I need time."

"And I will reluctantly agree, but you agreed to keep in touch."

"I promise," Bev said firmly. "I'll mail the check today."

"OK. I'll put a check in the mail the day after I receive it."

"Thanks."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up and went back to reviewing the currency and precious metals markets. At the end of the day, I left the office and drove to Violet's house for dinner. After class, I headed home, and Ellie arrived about ten minutes later.

February 4, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Friday was a normal day at Spurgeon, and Kristy and Miranda met Jack and me in the lobby of the Hancock Center just after 5:00pm.

"It's so silly you have to take separate elevators!" Miranda declared.

"They took away my key to the freight elevator," I replied. "The biggest downside is I park near the loading dock and could take the freight elevator all the way to the garage, whereas now I have to change elevators or take the stairs. Anyway, did you two decide where we're going?"

"Connie's for dinner, then we want to see Airplane II," Kristy said. "Is that OK?"

"Works for me," I replied. "Jack?"

"I'm good with that," he replied.

We headed to the garage to get my car, then drove to Connie's on 25th Street, where we had to wait about twenty minutes for a table, but that wasn't much of a problem as we could put our pizza order in before we sat down, and it took close to forty minutes for the deep-dish pizza to bake.

The pizza was awesome as always, the movie was hilarious, and the time with my friends was enjoyable. When we left the theatre on North Michigan Avenue, Jack and Kristy headed home, and I asked Miranda if she wanted ice cream, which, to no surprise, she did.

"Can I come home with you?" Miranda asked as we walked towards Oberweis.

"If you want, yes," I replied. "I make no assumptions."

"It's safe to assume I want to spend the night with you! It turns out that sinners DO have much more fun!"

I chuckled, "I'd agree, though I don't believe in sin, at least not the way I suspect you were taught. And out of curiosity, do you think it was sinful?"

"My priest certainly does," Miranda replied.

"His opinion is, frankly, irrelevant, at least to me. What do you think?"

"Well, I went on the Pill, then lost my virginity with an audience, so I think that's pretty clear!"

"Do you go to church?"

"Not regularly. I went at Christmas with my parents, and I'll go at Easter, but I'm not serious about it. If I was serious, I'd never have done what we did and what we're going to do after we have our ice cream. Were you concerned?"

"No. I wouldn't have brought it up if you hadn't referenced the Billy Joel song."

"Will you ask me out again?"

"Yes, though probably not for a month or so."

"That's cool. You know I'm just interested in having some fun, which I know is what you want, too. There's no way I'm even thinking about getting married before I graduate."

"You just thought about it," I teased.

"OK, Mr. Pedantic, no way I'm seriously considering it until after graduation!"

"I find accuracy and precision to be important," I replied.

"You accurately knew precisely how to get me off! I hope you don't need too much sleep tonight!"

"I'll manage!"

"Great!"

February 5, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Ask me out again," Miranda requested when we got out of bed. "Just let me know by the Tuesday before the Friday so I don't make plans."

"It'll be a few weeks," I replied. "But I will ask you out again."

"Cool! And if you have any baseball games, invite me! And I can bring a friend!"

"I don't schedule those," I replied. "That was basically Ellie's deal."

"I'll talk to her! Want to do that thing with my boobs before we shower?"

"Indeed I do!"

About thirty minutes later, after a fun tit fuck and a warm shower, Miranda and I went downstairs for breakfast. We had just finished eating when the phone rang, and I got up to answer it.

"Kane," I said.

"Jonathan, it's Jim Newton."

"Good morning. What can I do for you?"

"Where is she?"

"I promised her I wouldn't tell anyone."

"You obviously told the FBI."

"I had no choice, according to my attorney. They know where she is. Did you ask them?"

"They said she's over eighteen. Just tell me, please."

"I gave Bev my word, and I won't go back on that. I've encouraged her to talk to you or at least tell you where she is, but I can't make her."

"Jonathan, I'm trying to be reasonable," Mr. Newton said, clearly frustrated.

"And I need to keep my word to Bev. All I can do is encourage her to get in touch with you."

"Hang on a sec," he said, exasperated. "Julie wants to speak to you."

A few seconds later, Bev's mom was on the line.

"Jonathan, please! I'm worried about Bev and Heather. I can't sleep, not knowing where they are!"

She sounded frantic, but I really couldn't violate my promise to Bev, and I knew Bev was safe.

"All I can say is the same thing I said to your husband -- Bev and Heather are safe, and she made me promise not to tell where she is. I've always kept my word to her, and I have to keep it now."

"Please!" she begged.

"I'm sorry," I replied.

"You don't care!" she sobbed.

I did care, but it was for Bev, and that was what had to determine my actions, not how it might affect Mr. or Mrs. Newton.

"I know you disagree, but it's because I care about Bev that I'm not revealing where she is."

I heard her begin sobbing, and a few seconds later, Mr. Newton returned to the line.

"You're being irresponsible, Jonathan," he said. "I thought you were better than this."

I heard a click as he hung up, so I replaced the handset in the cradle and began cleaning up the kitchen.

"Tell me if it's none of my business, but what's going on?" Miranda asked.

"A close friend of mine from my hometown decided to leave home and move to a new city. She was having trouble with her parents and chose not to tell them where she was going. I know, and when they filed a missing person report, the FBI came to talk to me, and I told them where she was. Because she's over eighteen, they checked that she was OK, then closed the case and wouldn't tell her parents where she was."

"Is this your friend with the baby?"

"Yes, and that's really all I should say at this point."

"OK," Miranda said.

We finished cleaning up the kitchen, and I drove Miranda back to Loyola, then returned home as I wanted to do laundry and clean before Clara arrived around 3:00pm.

"Miranda, huh?" Bianca asked when I walked into the house. "I thought you went out with Haley on Fridays."

"I decided I had to stick to my rule about getting involved with anyone who works at Spurgeon."

"I thought you were OK with her because she was in Personnel."

"I let her talk me into the Christmas party, and after that, I asked her out a few times, but in the end, I couldn't take the risk. I turned down a date with the Swedish secretary in our group for the same reason."

"Tall, blonde, blue-eyed, and gorgeous?"

"Of course! And interested, but I cannot get sucked into the crap that goes on at Spurgeon. You know what happened with Rachel, and I don't want any repeats."

"But Haley's not a religious fanatic, is she?"

"No, but that was just the thing that led to the bad result. The last thing I need is a bad breakup, not just for me but for Haley or Anna or whomever. I don't want to get in trouble, or worse, get one of them in trouble because Mr. Spurgeon sides with me because I make him money. That's wrong on every level."

"But she was OK with ending things?"

"No, but she understood. She has considered finding a new job because there's no way for her to advance at Spurgeon unless Mrs. Peterson leaves, and the chances of that happening in the near future are basically zero."

"You'll go out with her again if she does change jobs?"

"Yes, if she's interested. And you know I have no intention of making a commitment to anyone anytime soon."

The phone rang, and I went to answer it.

"Kane," I said.

"Jonathan, it's Mom."

"No," I said. "I won't tell you, either."

"I think you should at least hear me out before you cut me off."

"Hang on one sec," I said. "I need to change extensions."

I asked Bianca to hang up the phone once I picked up the extension in my bedroom. She agreed, and I headed upstairs. Once I'd picked up the handset, Bianca hung up the kitchen phone.

"Mom," I said, "I told Mr. and Mrs. Newton that Bev doesn't want them to know where she is."

"I know, but I'm not calling on their behalf. I'm going to assume Bev confided more in you than just where she went."

"I'm not going to confirm or deny what I do or don't know, except that I do know where she is and that she and Heather are safe."

"I broke my engagement to Glen. I'm going to assume you know why I might do that."

"Mom, I promised not to talk to anyone about anything Bev might have told me."

"I think the fact that I'm telling you creates an exception, especially given it concerns me."

"Tell me what you think you know, please."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Jonathan! Don't you think I had a right to know what we both know I'm talking about?"

"I have conflicting obligations and promises, and I'm not sure how to resolve them. I made a promise, and then, once Bev conveyed the information, I realized I was in an impossible situation where I had to betray one of the two most important women in my life. I'm having lunch with a confidante on Tuesday who gives me good advice and would have helped me sort out the conflict."

"You are every bit as frustrating as Bev ever said you were!"

"I didn't know she thought I was frustrating, at least before she got pregnant."

"Ask her about a conversation we had when she was fifteen."

"I admit to being dense," I replied. "But I didn't know she'd spoken to you."

"I told her she'd have to make the first move because you wouldn't."

"Oh, for Pete's sake! Anyway, I take it Glen confessed?"

"Yes. I explained what had happened at the hearing and mentioned Heather's blood type. He didn't say anything at first, but yesterday he told me what had happened. I broke off our engagement and told him I didn't want to see him again."

"I'm going to ask what might be a dumb question, but why?"

"Hang on! You aren't upset?"

"Why would I be? Bev didn't cheat on me, and it's not like I've been a monk here in Chicago."

"So I gathered with two female housemates."

"Who share a room," I replied. "Think that one through?"

"Oops," Mom said with a soft laugh. "Of course, that was the story of that silly TV show, but with the guy pretending to be gay."

"I'm not discussing my sex life, or the sex lives of my housemates, with you, Mom."

"That means they're bisexual," Mom said mirthfully.

"No comment. Back to Bev -- unless you know something I don't know, she had a brief affair of her own volition at a time when I was not involved with her. Who she was with was none of my business, and from my perspective, it's no different from her sleeping with Bob Leahy. Goshen High might have a different opinion, but Mr. Kingman still works at Goshen High, and he married Kimberly Bauer about a week after her graduation. Call me crazy, but I suspect they were seeing each other while she was a student. The bottom line for me is that I have no business judging Bev or holding her to a different standard from the one to which I hold myself. Or you, for that matter."

"Me?"

"You made a choice of your own free will, and I was the result. Bev made the same choice, and Heather was the result. I've made my own choices but haven't run into that problem."

Or, if I had, Huifen had resolved it without my input, which was totally within her rights as the one who was actually pregnant.

"You are being careful?"

"Yes, of course. Were you?"

"I learned THAT lesson the hard way twenty-one years ago!"

"Literally the hard way," I chuckled.

"JONATHAN EDWARD KANE!" Mom exclaimed.

"What?" I asked with faux innocence.

"Who are you, and what did you do with my innocent son?"

I laughed, "I don't think I was ever innocent! YOU might have thought so!"

"Because you were! Bev would have told me had you done anything bad!"

"Just how long were you two conspiring behind my back?"

"It wasn't a conspiracy; it was Bev needing someone to talk to other than her mom."

"I have to ask -- who else knows?"

"I don't feel it's my place to say anything to anyone other than you, and I said something to you because I was positive Bev would have told you."

"Did you break up with him because of Bev and me?"

"That was certainly a consideration but not the only reason."

"I have no issue with Glen," I replied. "I do have an issue with Bev not telling him, but that's her decision."

"Are you going to tell her that he knows?"

"I'm going to call her as soon as we finish this call. Mom, so far as I can tell, Bev is not interested in Glen. From what she said, it was a brief fling. It doesn't bother me because she didn't cheat on me. If I'd decided to tell you, which I probably would have, I'd have said the same thing. My point is, Glen didn't cheat on you, and you have no more right to know about his past sex partners than he does yours. That'll be true for any girl I marry, too."

"Are you suggesting I get back together with him?" Mom asked.

"No, I'm simply telling you it's up to you, not me, and I honestly don't care about his past, and, frankly, you shouldn't either. I mean, he has two kids already; what's a third one?"

"Two grown children," Mom countered.

"OK, I'll agree that's different. Do you know if he wants to see Heather?"

"The conversation didn't get that far, though it seems as if Bev doesn't want him to see Heather."

"That's true, but it may change, given the revelation. In the end, I want you to be happy, and I want Bev to be happy, and that's all."

"I'll let you go, then. When will I see you again?"

"That's a good question," I replied. "Why don't you come to Chicago when school is out? I'm buying a house, and we're moving in at the end of March."

"You're buying a house?!"

"Yes. I was going to tell you tomorrow when we had our weekly call. I put in an offer contingent on a mortgage, but that's a done deal through Spurgeon Capital. I'll receive a formal mortgage approval and commitment on Monday."

"You're twenty!" Mom protested.

"And your point is?" I asked.

"I always knew you'd make something of yourself, but I had no idea it would happen so quickly."

"Me either, but Noel Spurgeon rewards hard work and a killer instinct, and I made the right friends and the right investments."

"I'm happy for you, Jonathan! I'll figure out a time to visit in June if that's OK."

"That would be great!"

"Then I'll let you go, and we'll speak next week."

We said 'goodbye', and I flashed the switchhook, then dialed the McGills' and asked for Bev.

"Jonathan?" she asked. "You couldn't have received the check already! I only mailed it yesterday afternoon!"

"That's not why I'm calling," I replied. "I just spoke to my mom."

"NO!" she gasped. "You promised!"

"I didn't break my promise," I replied. "Glen confessed to my mom, and she broke off the engagement."

"Oh no!" Bev wailed. "She'll tell my parents!"

"No, she won't," I said, trying to sound reassuring. "I can't speak for Glen, but my mom won't share this secret with your parents any more than she shared the fact that you conspired with her when you were fifteen!"

"WHAT?!" Bev gasped.

"She said I should ask you what you two spoke about when you were fifteen."

"Your mom is a troublemaker!"

"That's not news!" I replied. "But forget about that. She's not going to say anything to anyone. What do you plan to do?"

"Nothing," Bev replied. "I mean, you made the point that Glen had to suspect, so this really doesn't change anything unless your mom is going to tell my parents."

"What if Glen wants to see Heather?"

"I can't deal with that," Bev sighed. "Not now; maybe not ever."

"You know my opinion on that," I replied. "So I'll just say two words -- child support."

"Your mom managed without it."

"She did, but that part wasn't by choice. And society has changed significantly since 1962, at least with regard to single moms. Is it perfect? By no means, but it's better. That said, I still think you should have child support. But that's all I'll say. Call me soon, Bev."

"When I'm ready."

There wasn't anything I could do to change her mind, and pressing would only upset her, so I said 'goodbye', and once she'd said it as well, I hung up and went back downstairs.

"Everything OK?" Bianca asked.

"More or less," I replied. "It's a complex mess, and I'm both stuck in the middle and watching from the sidelines."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not really. At this point, it's all on Bev, and she asked me to give her space."

"That's not a particular problem, though, right? I mean, you don't plan to become seriously involved with anyone anytime soon."

"That's true, but my concerns have to do with Bev's reaction and behavior."

"You mean basically running away?"

"Yes," I replied. "I prefer to confront things directly and talk out any problems."

"And you need your life partner or partners, to do the same thing."

"Yes, and I like how you slipped your little fantasy into your answer!"

"I like how you slip into me!" Bianca exclaimed. "But in all seriousness, I do think that would be perfect for you."

"And for you! A joint harem!"

"Don't tease me!" Bianca exclaimed. "All the girls we could both want!"

"Just out of curiosity, would you plan to have kids with me in that scenario?"

"At least one, for sure. And you'll be able to afford as many as you want with as many girls as you want!"

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it! For now, I need to finish my chores before Clara arrives. What are you and Shelly doing tonight?"

"I'm going home because my dad is having minor surgery on his knee on Monday, and my mom is slightly freaked out. It's no big deal, but my mom is the nervous type. Shelly is hanging out with Lucy and Sylvia, but I'm not sure what she's doing. She's actually at Loyola now."

I finished my laundry, and Bianca helped clean up, then we spent about an hour listening to music before she left to head home. About fifteen minutes later, Clara arrived.

"What's the plan?" I asked.

"What do you think?" she asked sexily, grabbing my hand and tugging gently.

"OK, yes, but besides that?"

"Could we order Chinese? And rent a movie?"

"That would work. Why don't we go to the video store now so we don't have to go out later? It's in walking distance."

"That's cool."

I put on my coat, hat, and gloves, and we left the house for the walk to the video store, which was about a mile away.

"What do you want to see?" I asked. "Something specific?"

"There are a few movies I want to see -- Saturday Night Fever, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and The French Connection."

"Any of those three would be fine," I replied.

"Of course, if your video store has a private back room, there are other options!"

I chuckled, "They have a list, and you have to ask, but what do you know about porn?"

"Zero! Well, other than one of my friends found her dad's collection of porn tapes and watched them with her boyfriend. Have you seen one?"

"No. I discussed them with Allyson and her friends, and then Bianca suggested we eventually see one, just out of curiosity, but it hasn't happened. Is that something you would want to do?"

"It might give us some ideas!" Clara exclaimed.

"I'm pretty sure I know about anything they'd do from my talks with Paula."

"I can't believe what happened to her! So, what kinds of things?"

"What?! Your friend didn't tell you?"

"No. She said I should see for myself and suggested I agree in advance to do what they do in the movie."

"I have a strong suspicion as to why she told you that. Did she say she had done that?"

"No, but she's done a lot," Clara said. "Why?"

"From what I've been told, there are girls together, which I'm pretty sure doesn't interest you."

"No, it doesn't."

"And anal."

"Whoa! That is NOT something I think I'd want to do."

"I'm positive that's why she suggested you agree in advance to try anything you saw!"

"Not saying I ever would, but have you?"

"Yes."

"And did you like it?"

"I think the best thing to say is that it was different, and I don't have a particular desire to do it again. How about we rent one of the three movies you suggested? I'm perfectly happy with the stuff we've done together."

"Me, too!" Clara exclaimed.

We ended up renting Saturday Night Fever, then headed back to the house.

"How long can you stay?" I asked.

"I need to be home by midnight," she replied. "So around 10:45pm, just to be safe. Let's go to bed! After we wear ourselves out, we can order the food and watch the movie."

We went up to my room, undressed, and got into bed.

"Sixty-nine to get you hard, then fuck, then repeat until dinner?" Clara requested.

"That sounds good to me!"

"The same after dinner, then a blowjob in the shower before I go home!"

"That also sounds good to me!"

Just over six hours later, having fooled around, watched the movie, eaten Chinese food, and fooled around some more, we got into the shower, where Clara gave me an awesome blowjob.

"When can I see you again?" she asked after a sloppy French kiss.

"Next weekend, I'll be out of town, so how about the following Saturday?"

"Sure! It'll have to be the same because I can't stay out past midnight until I turn eighteen, which is next January."

"Keeping your dad happy is important."

"He likes you, and Kristy's dad called you the new «Wunderkind»."

"That's German, right?"

"Yes. Dad said it means 'child prodigy' but that it's also used for people starting their careers. I think Dad is happy we're dating, though I don't think he'd be happy about the shower!"

"I think the shower would be the least of his concerns!"

"We wouldn't have needed the shower if we hadn't fooled around all afternoon!"

"True!"

We finished our shower, dried ourselves, dressed, then went downstairs. I walked Clara out to her car, we kissed, and once she had driven away, I went back into the house.

VIII. Making Plans

February 6, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Sunday morning, I met Marcia at Lou Mitchell's for breakfast.

"Are we still on for next weekend?" she asked after we were seated.

"Yes, of course! I'll pick you up on Saturday morning at 9:00am, as we discussed, and we'll head to Waukesha.

"Great! We'll have Ponza Rottas for lunch at Jimmy's Grotto, then we'll check into the bed-and-breakfast. We can hang out for a bit, then we'll have dinner at a club in Milwaukee. On Sunday, we'll go to the museums and head back to Chicago around 6:00pm."

The waitress came and poured coffee and took our orders.

"Our analysis says Washington is going to win the mayoral primary by about three points," I said, "He should beat Epton handily in the April election. Do you know what job you'll have in the Washington Administration?"

"No, and Congressman Washington can't really offer roles to anyone before the election in April. I mean, some things are obvious, but some people are likely to want to stay in DC and work for whoever succeeds Washington."

"There would be a special election, right?"

"Yes. I plan to try for a Deputy Chief of Staff role, and there's a very good chance I'll get it."

"What's your fallback plan?"

"There will be plenty of positions available which aren't covered by the 1972 Shakman Decree."

"That case is still being litigated, right?"

"Yes. Mayor Byrne is trying to have the 1972 order vacated, but nobody thinks that will succeed. There's likely to be an order in the next month or so confirming that politics cannot be a consideration for non-policymaking positions. I'm not interested in a civil service job."

"And if, for some reason, you aren't hired?"

"Then I'll try to stay in my same role. The 1st District will absolutely elect a Democrat, and I'd have a recommendation from my Alderman and Ward Committeeman, which would make it pretty close to a sure thing. How are things at work for you?"

"Mostly, I do research and write reports. It's not all that exciting, but the more I learn and the more analysis I do, the better I'll be as a full-time trader or investment manager."

"Will you allow me to invest?"

"How much?"

"$8,000. It's been in staggered one-year CDs I've been rolling over."

Which meant she didn't need immediate access to her money, meaning she passed the first major criterion for accepting her funds.

"Do you have other savings?"

"Yes. I have three months of expenses in a regular passbook account I could use for emergencies."

"And you understand the costs? There's a 1% charge to invest, and then 10% of all gains over the 8% hurdle?"

"What happens if you don't make the 8%?"

"Then I get zero; well, except that initial $80."

"What's your usual gain?"

"I just opened the fund, so I don't have any specific numbers I can give you; those will be available in the quarterly report, which Spurgeon Capital will issue in early April. That said, I've made a number of successful trades, and I've made some moves that could generate significant profits."

"How does it work if people invest at different times?"

"It's based on the overall value of the fund, and your basis is calculated on the day you invest. To simplify, if your share of the fund is 1%, you receive 1% of the returns beginning the day you invest. The actual formula is a bit more complicated, but the end result is very close to that, minus the 10% fee on gains."

"Have you made any bad trades?"

"I've made trades that didn't pan out the way I expected, but overall, I've had far more gains than losses, both in terms of the number of investments and in their returns. If everything I've done so far works out, I'll triple the value of my fund this year."

"TRIPLE?" Marcia exclaimed in surprise.

"Yes. I took some significant risks with the goal of building the size of my fund because the larger the fund, the better able I am to take advantage of smaller market moves."

"So you could lose a lot of money?"

"I could lose some, but I effectively insured against big losses by using hedges. That limits my upside a bit but limits my downside even more. But those kinds of returns are not common. The flagship fund earned 47% in 1981 in a crappy year. No promises, but I could beat that overall this year. 30% is certainly achievable, but again, I can't promise to earn that return."

"How could you not?"

"If any of the investments where I took a major position lost money," I replied. "And that's a real possibility. Nobody can be absolutely sure how a stock, bond, commodity, or currency will respond to various factors, such as economic conditions, diplomatic changes, and general news. My job is to analyze everything and predict, with some level of confidence, what will happen. But it's not perfect, and I'll make mistakes. The key is hedging against those mistakes, and it's the hedging that keeps the gains from being higher.

"My boss makes most of his money by making currency trades where he might make a half-cent on each currency unit traded, but trading ten million units is a profit of $50,000. If he can do that every day, he can make $10,000,000 in total returns, and of that, Spurgeon would keep roughly $1.8 million."

"And that's realistic?"

"Yes, some trades will lose money, but most won't."

"If I calculate correctly, eventually, you'll make a couple million a year."

"That's entirely possible," I replied. "But that depends on how successful I am at investing."

"Do you mind sharing how much you expect to make this year?"

"Low six figures, but my take-home pay isn't anything close to that as a portion of my bonus, and all of my profits stay in either my Cincinnatus Fund or the Spurgeon Select Fund."

"For how long?"

"I intend to not draw that money until I decide to retire. If I were to leave Spurgeon for some reason, then I'd have to work out the best solution to avoid a huge tax liability, but I don't plan to leave."

"Ever?"

"There would have to be some significant event that led to either me leaving voluntarily or Noel Spurgeon asking me to leave. Well, obviously, if I suck at investing, that would do it, too."

The waitress brought our food, and we began eating.

"Have you made progress on buying a house?"

"I put in an offer, which was accepted. I just need the mortgage commitment from Spurgeon, which I should have tomorrow. We'll move in at the end of March if everything goes according to the schedule provided by my real estate agent. I bought a house that needs some significant work, which, combined with current mortgage rates, allowed me to pay a reduced price."

"What kind of work?"

"A new boiler for the forced hot water heat; the floors need to be stripped, sanded, and stained; the walls need to be painted; the appliances need to be replaced; and the yard needs some work. I'm taking a week off from work during Loyola's Spring Break to do most of the work myself, with help from my housemates and friends. The current owner will replace the boiler as a condition of the sale."

"What about your lease? Doesn't it go through the end of July?"

"Yes, and I'm going to set up a meeting with my landlord to discuss it. Obviously, I'm on the hook for the rent for April, May, June, and July, but I'll offer an incentive for her to find a new renter."

"What kind of incentive?"

"A payment that I'd make for each week I didn't have to pay actual rent. We'll also leave the house spotless and painted so she can lease it right away."

"You seem to have your shit together for someone who is only twenty."

"It's all about analyzing a situation, determining the best course of action, then making it happen. There's nothing special or secret, just a matter of asking the right questions of the right people and putting the information to good use. That's basically my job and will be for a few years."

"But when you move up, you'll have to rely on someone else to do that?"

"Gather the information? Yes. Analyze it, no. My reports have three sections -- a factual portion, which simply lists information I've gathered; an analysis portion, which tries to interpret the data; and a recommendation section, which suggests potential buy or sell opportunities."

"How long is that report?"

"Three or four pages, though the analysis and recommendations have to fit on a single page. The rest is backup. I also prepare more thorough Analyst Notes, which are used to show the rationale for a trade to the government. For any trade, there's a risk score associated with it by our Compliance Department. The higher the risk, the more important the Analyst Note becomes. Some trades are rejected by Compliance because they are too risky and can't be defended by anything other than 'gut feel', and that leads to government review, and we want to avoid that at all costs."

"Because you're cheating?"

"No, because we aren't cheating. The last thing we want to do is invite a government investigation. Our Compliance Department and Legal Department receive inquiry letters, which we respond to with Analyst's Notes and other backup for a trade, and that nearly always resolves things. On occasion, there are further inquiries, but those are rare and, again, are usually resolved by additional backup.

"Mr. Spurgeon takes Compliance seriously. Not long after I started, a trader was fired because he was violating SEC regulations. Spurgeon turned him in, he was arrested, and he's in prison now for securities fraud. He was frontrunning his clients in an unmonitored account, which means making trades ahead of theirs to gain an advantage."

"Wouldn't that be obvious? I mean, you could prevent it from happening."

"Yes, except he traded in unmonitored accounts, which is a violation of SEC regulations. That can result in losing your license and civil penalties. Cheating your clients can be civil or criminal, and the SEC referred him to the Department of Justice."

"How was he caught?"

"I don't know any details other than the IRS was involved. At the time, I was a mailroom clerk and had only been at Spurgeon for about two months. It's almost impossible to not be caught, eventually. Every single trade and every single transfer of funds is recorded in the system and will eventually be found. You'd need a way of secretly moving money in an untraceable fashion, and no such thing exists."

"Numbered accounts in Switzerland?"

"Sure, if the money never leaves Switzerland, but all it takes is one transfer of funds to an account in another country, and the entire scheme unravels. It's simply not worth the risk."

"But people do it, anyway."

"They do because either they don't assess the risks properly or they're not as smart as they think they are, and it's often both. It's like organized crime -- they have to be right every single time; the government only has to be right once."

"It's amazing how much you've learned in less than two years."

"It's actually not difficult to learn the rules and the process. The challenge is in logically analyzing the markets and acting on that analysis. If by some chance I don't make it as a trader, I could, for example, work in Compliance. The head of Compliance makes a very good salary, though nothing like my potential earnings.

"But even that would be a massive improvement over where I was two years ago. And you know, I'm taking college classes, so I could try another field or be a manager at just about any business. Would I be disappointed? Sure. But my main goal was to improve my situation and live a comfortable life. I now have what I need to do that. Of course, I'm not settling for that, but it's a fallback position."

"What would you do if you couldn't be a trader?"

"Computers are certainly interesting, and the skills I have with logic and analysis apply directly, and there is a lot of money to be made in the future in computers. A lot. Current salaries for programmers without degrees are higher than starting salaries in other fields with a degree."

"You're taking a math course now, right?"

"Yes, and then a stats course in the Fall; I'm not taking a class over the Summer so I can have more free time, and I'm hoping to take the stats class on Saturdays, if possible."

"Can I ask you something about Jeri?"

"Sure."

"Her concern was about my relationship with you, wasn't it?"

"To some extent, yes."

"Do you think there's any chance of getting back into the group?"

"Almost anything is possible, but I don't know how Jeri would respond to that request."

"If you made the request, she'd say 'yes'."

"Don't be so sure," I replied. "I objected to her excluding you and got nowhere. I can't make any promises, but I'm willing to try again. If I'm successful, you're going to have to focus on controlling your feelings about certain aspects of my life."

"I'm past that," Marcia said. "I shouldn't have behaved so immaturely."

"The key to anything like that is to learn from our mistakes, resolve not to make them again, then move forward."

"Haven't I done that?"

"From my perspective? Absolutely. But I can't speak for Jeri. Out of curiosity, is there any bad blood between your family and Jeri's dad? I don't understand the exact sequence of relationships for a second cousin."

"Jeri and I both have the same great-grandparents on her dad's and my dad's side. The next generation were siblings -- my paternal grandmother and Jeri's paternal grandfather. As I think you know, the money all came from Jeri's mom's side of the family."

"I was aware. And that explains the fact that your last name isn't Pemberton."

"Yes. That's my great-grandfather's last name, but my grandmother married Kenneth Blake. Kane is your mom's name, right?"

"Yes. Her sister married my Uncle Alec, which is why he and I have different surnames."

"And you don't have anything to do with your grandparents, right?"

"I've been in Chicago for nearly two years, and I haven't received so much as a birthday card."

"Why don't you reach out?"

"Because I have zero interest. If and when they try to make amends with my mom, then I'll consider contacting them. But seriously, if they were interested, a phone call or card would be enough for me to respond. They haven't done that."

"That seems a bit petty."

I shrugged, "I don't see why I should reward their bad behavior for decades, nor do I want any avoidable drama."

"So you agree with Jeri, then?"

"No, because one instance of a negative reaction is insufficient for me to make a judgment. And while there were a couple of instances between you and me, it was all related to a single event, and you clearly have moved past that. Your objection now is my unrepentant capitalism!"

Marcia laughed, "On that, we'll have to agree to disagree."

"I will pay whatever taxes are legally due," I replied. "If you don't think my taxes are high enough, you have a perfect opportunity to influence Congressman Washington. Remember, I don't object to taxes because they are, in effect, the bill for all the public services I use and also provide a safety net and retirement benefits. I also make my money legally and within the rules established by the government. You have a perfect opportunity to influence those as well. I voted for Reagan because Carter was, to put it bluntly, a pussy."

"Not the economy?"

"He's the one who hired Paul Volcker to solve a problem that had been building since the '73 Oil Crisis. And it's Paul Volcker, not Reagan or Congress, who is taming inflation, which is a prerequisite to a healthy economy."

"You have very interesting views for a guy who's likely to make millions."

"As if I could make them without all the things the government provides? Doubtful. You know I don't object to regulation, as most of it is simply about being honest and reporting what I'm doing, as well as requiring me to protect my clients' interests, something I'd do anyway because that's the way to be successful. It's why Noel Spurgeon is so successful -- he follows the law and always makes money for his partners."

"So he's Hyman Roth?" Marcia asked.

I laughed, "In a sense, yes, though he actually is an investor, unlike Roth, who was a gangster."

We finished our breakfast, parted with a friendly hug, and I headed home, stopping at Jewel on the way, as I hadn't had a chance to shop on Saturday. While at the store, I went to the Osco side and bought an answering machine for Anala. At home, I put away the groceries, and about fifteen minutes after I'd arrived home, I left for Violet's house so we could go to Chicago Stadium to see the Hawks play the New York Rangers.

"Hi!" Violet exclaimed when she answered the door. "I'm ready to go!"

We walked to my car, got in, and twenty minutes later, presented our tickets at the gate. Five minutes after that, we found our seats.

The game went really well for the Hawks, with Al Secord scoring in the first, Denis Savard and Bill Garder scoring in the second, and Rick Paterson scoring in the third against a single Rangers goal by Chris Kontos in the second. The Hawks were having a good season, and though there were still two months to go, they were basically a shoo-in for the playoffs.

"I'll try to get first-round tickets from Spurgeon," I said. "I'm not sure I can, but I'll ask."

"That will be cool. Once you're successful, you should get your own season tickets so that you can attend every game!"

"I'm not sure I'll have time to attend forty games, but I suspect I could find someone to split them with, or at least who might be willing to buy some of the tickets from me. But that's something to worry about in a year or two. I don't want to overextend myself."

"That's smart!" Violet declared.

"Where did you want to go for dinner?" I asked.

"How about Greek Town? I'm OK with Mr. Greek, or we could go to one of the nicer places."

"Mr. Greek is awesome, and their gyros platter is one of my favorites."

"Then let's do that."

Violet and I had a nice meal, after which I took her home, where I walked her to the door and received the usual hug and kiss on the cheek. After she went inside, I went back to my car and drove home.

"Ellie and Deanna both called while you were out," Bianca said when I walked into the house.

"Thanks."

"You ate, right?"

"Yes."

"OK. Shelly and I are ordering Chinese if you want anything."

"I'm stuffed. I had the gyros platter at Mr. Greek, which is enough food for two people!"

"But you ate the whole thing, right?"

"Of course!"

I went upstairs, changed, and contemplated which call to return first. I'd seen Ellie recently, so if both she and Deanna wanted to see me, my choice was Deanna, so I called her first.

"Hi, it's Jonathan returning your call," I said when she answered.

"Hi! I have a bottle of Jack, if you're interested."

"Solo? Or a team effort?"

"Solo. Ivy and Sophie are busy shagging one of our profs!"

"Shagging?"

"A British term for fucking!" Deanna said mirthfully.

"You're welcome to come over," I said. "Besides the obvious, I want to talk to you about buying some paintings for my new house."

"New house?"

"I'm buying a house in Rogers Park and will move in at the end of March. I was thinking about three or four paintings -- one for the front room, one for my bedroom, and two for the living room."

"Do you want to commission something?" Deanna asked.

"You're going to have to explain, but why don't you do that here?"

"Selling my first painting while I'm fucking would be cool!"

"I'm sure we can cum to an agreement!" I declared.

"Deal!" Deanna exclaimed. "See you in about forty-five minutes. I'll take the train; can you bring me back to my place tomorrow morning?"

"Overnight stay?"

"For a patron of the arts? Sure!"

"See you soon!"

We said 'goodbye', and after she hung up, I flashed the switchhook and dialed Ellie's dorm. It took a minute for whoever answered the phone to find her.

"Hi!" she exclaimed. "I have a question."

"What's that?"

"Would you be available tomorrow night for me and a friend?"

"Someone I've met?" I asked.

"Keiko!" Ellie exclaimed.

Keiko was cute, and I found myself very much attracted to Chinese and Japanese girls. I was a bit concerned about Ellie's desire to become a couple, but bringing a friend did allay those enough to overcome that concern.

"I have class," I replied. "So it would have to be around 9:30pm."

"That's cool! Is it OK then?"

"Yes."

"Awesome! We'll see you at 9:30pm tomorrow!"

We said 'goodbye', and I went back downstairs and let Bianca know that Deanna was going to spend the night.

"Save Thursday evening for Shelly and me," Bianca requested. "Please."

"I have no plans and won't make any."

"Cool!"

Deanna arrived as planned, I got two bottles of Coke from the fridge and some glasses, and we went up to my room, where I poured Jack and Coke for each of us.

"Let's get naked, then I'll sit in your lap, and we can discuss your patronage while you're inside me!"

Ten minutes later, after Deanna had used her mouth to get me fully hard, she got into my lap. She wrapped her legs around me, impaled herself on my shaft, then put her arms on my shoulders.

"Commissioning means you ask me to paint something specific for you, with some general guidelines," she said as she slowly ground against me.

"I know zero about art and wouldn't even know what to ask for. Why don't you just paint what you like?"

"I can do that. Any specific colors?"

"All I can say is you've seen my furniture, and I don't plan to get new stuff."

"That's enough for me to work with," she said.

"How much are we talking?"

"It's difficult to price my paintings, really," Deanna said. "How about $500 for four of them?"

"It's equally difficult to know their value," I said. "But if they're unique, then they should be worth at least that much in the future."

"Abstract is almost always unique, though sometimes they're done as a series with a theme of colors or shapes. There are conditions on the sale, though."

"Which are?"

"First, you can't destroy them or throw them away."

"Not unreasonable. What else?"

"Four free visits without buying the Jack!"

I laughed, "Whatever Sophie or Ivy have said, the Jack is not a requirement! Anything else?"

"No."

"When will they be finished?"

"It really depends on my mood and motivation," she said. "How about we say by the end of our semester, which is in early June?"

"Are you going home for the Summer?"

"Yes. I'll be back in the middle of August. And now that our business is done fuck me hard and cum in my mouth!"

"Your wish is my command!"

February 7, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"I think I need to make a regular appointment with you," Deanna said on Monday morning as we dressed after our shower. "I'm always in a much better mood after being with you!"

"I noticed you tend to lose the whole sad, depressed, starving artist persona during your visits."

"Orgasms will do that, and you never fail to provide them! Having a big dick is a major plus, too!"

"Did you seriously want to put something on the calendar or just play it by ear?"

"First Sunday of the month until the end of the semester?" Deanna suggested. "I can fill you in on my progress with the paintings, and you can fill me!"

I laughed, "Sounds good. Let's check the calendar when we go downstairs."

We finished dressing and went downstairs to have breakfast. I checked the calendar and saw nothing that conflicted with Deanna's request. I put her name in the box for each first Sunday, then we made breakfast. When we finished, I took her to Loyola, then headed to work. Just after 10:00am, Haley called and asked me to come to the Personnel office.

"I have your mortgage commitment letter," she said when I walked into the office. "I'll fax a copy to your attorney, your accountant, and to the real estate agent."

"Excellent! Thanks."

"You're welcome," she said, handing me a manila envelope. "OK to join you for lunch?"

"I'm going to the gym, and I planned to eat at my desk, but if we don't take too long, Mr. Matheson won't mind."

"See you then."

I returned to my desk and extracted the contents of the envelope, which were two sheets of paper. One was a form letter stating the terms of the mortgage and who to contact to arrange for the funds to be transferred. The other was a letter from Noel Spurgeon with his approval. I returned the items to the envelope, put it in my satchel, then picked up the phone to call Bill Wyatt. He wasn't in, but his secretary promised he'd call back within the hour, which he did.

"I have the mortgage commitment letter," I reported.

"My secretary said she received a copy. I'll speak to your attorney, get the closing set, and ensure he has copies of all the documents in advance. The closing will be March 25th, and that's when you'll sign all the paperwork. The sellers will have already signed everything at that point, so as soon as you sign, you'll receive the keys."

"Great! Out of curiosity, how do you get paid?"

"The title company disburses the funds -- my commission to me, the selling agent's commission to her, any taxes and fees to the government, the amount of the remaining mortgage balance is paid to the seller's mortgage company, and then the balance, if any, is paid to the sellers."

"Thanks. That wasn't covered in any of my classes because I'm not licensed to sell real estate."

"You're welcome! And I'd be remiss if I didn't say that I hope you'll use my services when it's time to trade up!"

"That won't be for a few years, and I'll likely keep the current property as an investment."

"I understand. My firm does rental management, too, so we'd be happy to help in that regard so you don't have to deal with all the minutiae."

"I'll remember that, thanks!"

"Call me if you have any questions. Otherwise, I'll see you at the closing."

"Thanks again."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then worked until it was time for lunch. Haley joined me as she'd suggested.

"I have news," she said. "I applied for an Assistant Director of Personnel role at a law firm. The current director is retiring in two years, and they want continuity."

"What firm, if it's OK to ask?"

"Allen & Baker," she replied.

"I actually sent them a résumé back when the layoffs were looming. Does Mrs. Peterson know?"

"Yes, because I want to use her as a reference. She knows there isn't a way to move up in Personnel here, and you know I have zero interest in working on the business side here."

"When will you hear from them?"

"I have an interview scheduled for Monday of next week," Haley replied. "If that goes OK, then I'd have a second interview, and then they'll either make an offer or they won't. I figure at least a month before they make a decision, and then I need to give two weeks' notice."

"Good luck!" I said.

She smiled, "And if that does happen, you'll ask me out?"

"Barring some crazy, unforeseen circumstance, yes. Just remember my timeframe."

Haley laughed softly, "Not all that different from mine. But we hit a barrier because of your rule, so that was kind of irrelevant."

"I just don't want to mislead anyone or have them draw the wrong conclusions."

"You're supremely cautious."

"I really don't want to hurt anyone," I replied. "And I know how easy it is to hurt someone if they have a different view of the relationship."

"Your girlfriend from back home?"

"That's the main one, but there have been a few others who felt I wasn't keeping my side of the bargain, so to speak."

"Let me say this without implying anything about me or about anyone else, but girls who expect a ring for putting out need to get the ring first."

"I get your meaning, though I'd substitute 'commitment' for 'ring', which is what I suspect you actually meant."

"Yes, though a commitment implies a ring, at least in your worldview, even if the ring isn't presented for some time after the commitment is made. That's why I put it that way."

"True," I agreed. "Keep me posted on your progress, OK?"

"Absolutely!" Haley exclaimed.

The rest of the day was routine, with me putting together a research report on South Africa and how sanctions against Apartheid were affecting trade in precious metals and gems. As usual, when the work day ended, I headed to Violet's for dinner, went to class, had pie and coffee with Violet after class, then headed home.

When I arrived home, I saw a letter from Bev in the basket where the girls put my mail. I opened, found a check, and called Bev to let her know that I'd put a check to her in the mail in the morning.

"I appreciate everything, Jonny," she said. "I'll call you in two or three weeks, OK?"

It wasn't OK, but it would have to do.

"Yes. Call if you don't receive the check by the end of the week, please."

"I will."

"Before I go, what about a job?"

"I have an interview tomorrow, but it should be a done deal because Mr. McGill vouched for me."

"That's good."

"I'll let you know. Good night."

"Good night."

I hung up, not thrilled with the situation, but there wasn't really anything more I could do unless Bev changed her attitude. I knew she was struggling, but, in the end, my chance to do anything about it had vanished when I'd failed to discuss moving to Chicago with her. In that way, I had some responsibility for what had happened, though, in the end, Bev had made her own decisions. I just wished she'd confronted me before I'd left Ohio after I'd graduated.

At this point, that was water under the bridge, and nothing I could do could change it. All I could do was learn my lesson and move forward. I'd made other errors in communication since, and the main lesson I'd learned was to be clear, to the point, and direct, and not hem and haw or leave room for misinterpretation. Of course, I couldn't totally prevent it, but I could make myself as clear as possible to avoid anyone having a wrong impression of what I meant.

My thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell, and I went downstairs. Shelly had answered the door and invited Ellie and Keiko into the house. I greeted them, and we went to the front room, which Shelly and Bianca vacated so we could have some privacy.

"Is something wrong?" Ellie asked.

"No," I replied. "I just thought it might be better to get to know each other a bit. Keiko, what's your major?"

"Political science," she replied. "I want to get a postgraduate degree in international relations. You're a stockbroker, right?"

"I'm licensed for that, but my job right now is as a market analyst, focusing on currencies, precious metals, and commodities. I do trade, but mostly my job involves research, analysis, and writing reports."

"Ellie said you ran some kind of investment fund."

"I do, but it's small and for friends and family and is not my main job. Ellie said your grandfather runs the karate school on Halsted."

"Yes. How do you know it?"

"I walked by it often when I lived in Little Italy. I did stop to watch the classes a few times, but I don't have the time I think would be necessary."

"It does take dedication," Keiko said. "Ellie said you didn't go to college."

"That's right, but it's not required for my field. I am taking night classes that will help with my skills, but it's entirely possible to be a successful trader without a college degree."

"Sorry, I wasn't implying anything by that."

"Are you a Freshman?"

"Yes."

"From Chicago?"

"Yes, but we live in the Western Suburbs, so it's much easier to live in the dorms than try to drive close to forty miles in each direction, especially when it's snowing or raining. You're from Ohio, right?"

"I am, and it seems Ellie has told you quite a bit about me."

"I asked a lot of questions after I met you last week when I dropped her off."

"I have a question for you," I said.

"Only one?" Keiko asked.

"One important one, assuming what Ellie told me about what you want is correct -- birth control?"

"If she said I wanted to be with you, then yes, it's correct!" Keiko replied. "I'm on the Pill."

"Then shall we go upstairs?"

"I'll take your keys, Keiko," Ellie said. "Jonathan, I'll call you. Just get Keiko back to campus in the morning."

"You're leaving?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes," Ellie smiled. "Keiko doesn't believe sex is a spectator sport! I assume you'll grant me a request to stay over in the next week or so."

"I will."

Keiko gave Ellie her keys, Ellie hugged me, winked, then left Keiko and me alone in the great room. Once I heard the front door close, I took Keiko's hand, and we went up to my room.

"You're not disappointed that Ellie left, are you?"

"No, just surprised, given my history with Ellie."

"Ellie told me about that. She actually invited me to the thing back in November, and I really thought about it but decided it wasn't something I wanted to do in front of other people. It's supposed to be special, you know, intimate, not performance art!"

Saying it was intimate was not a concern, but 'special' might have other implications. Haley's comment at lunch about girls expecting relationships for putting out, and while I doubted that was the case, I had to be sure.

"Special?" I asked.

"Private," Keiko replied. "Oh! You thought I meant like being in love or being a couple."

"The thought did cross my mind. What do you like?"

"I'll let you know afterwards; this is my first time."

"And you're sure you want it to be with me?"

"I'm here, aren't I? I appreciate you checking, but isn't it obvious? It's not like you got me drunk at a party and took me up to your room! I had to get in my car, drive here, come inside, talk to you, then come up to your room!"

"All of that is true, and it's just me being cautious. I'm curious about one thing."

"What's that?"

"Is this just tonight?"

"That's all I expect; neither of us knows what the future holds."

"I can make one fairly safe prediction," I said.

"Pleasure!" Keiko exclaimed.

I held out my arms, and the very short Keiko stepped into them.

"I don't think this will work very well!" she exclaimed. "I'm like a foot shorter than you are!"

I moved to sit on the bed, and Keiko came to sit on my lap. That made kissing easier, and I was positive she'd need to be on top when we had sex, which had been the norm with Huifen, who was equally short. We exchanged several soft kisses, then Keiko moved off my lap, stood in front of me, and began undressing, not hesitating at all. A minute later, she was standing naked in front of me and smiled.

She was about 5'2" and couldn't have weighed more than 110 pounds. She had small breasts, a flat stomach, and a neatly trimmed triangle of jet-black pubic hair, which matched the long hair that framed her face.

"You're gorgeous!" I said.

"Your turn!" she declared.

I got up and quickly removed my clothes, then sat back down on the bed. Keiko climbed into my lap, and we exchanged a series of soft French kisses.

"I want you to kiss me all over," Keiko requested. "Then I'll do the same for you!"

I smiled, and we moved so that Keiko was lying on her back. I did as she'd requested, paying specific attention to her breasts before working my way down her body and briefly enjoying her wonderful womanly taste before kissing down to her feet, then back up so I could pleasure her with my tongue. After I'd brought her off, we changed places, and Keiko kissed me, mirroring what I'd done for her, though once I was hard, she moved on top of me.

"I know what to do," she said with a smile.

She grasped me, held me upright, positioned herself, then slowly slid down my shaft until I was completely inside her.

IX. What Am I Missing?

February 9, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Wednesday, instead of going to dinner at Violet's house, I had dinner with Lily. Violet hadn't been happy, but she knew Lily and I were seeing each other, so she hadn't protested, simply expressed her disappointment. The concern I had was when classes ended, I'd likely see Violet less often, and I wasn't sure how that might affect her. But that was a problem for June, and I could wait to see what developed in my life before then.

"Hi!" Lily exclaimed when she opened the door. "Interested in an appetizer?"

"What did you have in mind?" I asked as I stepped into the foyer.

"Lily nectar for you and protein for me! Then, when you come back after class, the main course!"

"I thought you said dessert!" I chuckled.

"The food is just to keep up our energy!" Lily said impishly.

She grabbed my hand and led me up to her room where I had my fill of 'Lily nectar', and she had her helping of 'protein'. Neither of us was sweaty from our sixty-nine session, so we simply cleaned up with a washcloth, then dressed and went downstairs to eat dinner.

"How is your new job going?" Lily asked as we sat down to a dinner of homemade lasagna, which had been baking while we were in her bed.

"So far, so good," I replied. "The next two years will mostly be research and analysis, which, in addition to helping Spurgeon make money now, gives me a foundation for the future when I'm trading full time. How are things going for you?"

"Classes are going well, and I'm having fun. Mom gives me a decent amount of freedom without getting on my case, which means as long as I sleep at home and don't have guys in my room, she leaves me alone."

"Guys that she knows about, anyway!" I said with a grin.

"Duh!" Lily declared. "But you're the only one I've invited here because even if she somehow found out, she wouldn't get on my case too much because she likes you."

"How are things with Costas?"

"I'd say 'back to normal', which means like they were before he came out as gay. He was always a bit of a pain in the butt, but I think older brothers are always like that."

"Couldn't say, being an only child," I replied.

"Are you seeing anyone seriously?"

"No. You?"

"No. There are two guys I go out with besides you, but I'm with you on not getting too serious before graduation. Well, you aren't graduating, but around twenty-two. So just over two years from now, then we can discuss if we belong together."

"I'm curious if that's what you see happening?"

"I have no idea," Lily said. "I mean, sure, I could see it happening, but I think you're going to end up with Violet."

"What makes you say that?" I asked.

"She's obviously madly in love with you, and you're seeing her three times a week. Who else do you see that often? And spend more time with? I mean, besides your housemates?"

Lily was the second person to say that Violet was in love with me. When Bianca had said it, I'd questioned the 'in love' part, but it actually wouldn't surprise me at this point. And as Anala had said, it was entirely possible for her to be in love with me and not want to have sex with me. And given I wanted kids, and didn't want to live the rest of my life as a monk, that meant there really was no future unless Violet could overcome her past.

Doctor Lochner had been adamant that it was unlikely, but Violet had made progress in other areas of her life, so I felt it was possible. The challenge, if I decided I felt that way about Violet, was how to discover if Violet had truly come to terms with her past and could move forward with an intimate relationship.

"I know I shouldn't ask this question," I said carefully, "but I'm going to, anyway. Feel free to refuse to answer if you feel it violates a confidence. Is that something Violet has said to you?"

"No, she hasn't said it, but it's blindingly obvious from the way she talks about you and the way she looks at you. You guys aren't..."

"That's one of those questions that has to remain unanswered," I replied. "I know Violet has feelings for me; it's just that there are complications which I can't discuss."

"I do know she had a rough time growing up and ended up in foster care, but I don't know any details. I'm going to guess it had something to do with that."

"Again, that's not something I can talk about."

"Sorry. I probably shouldn't have brought it up. What I was trying to say was that I don't expect anything one way or the other with you. I'm not going to say 'no', but I'm not ready to say 'yes', and I was just telling you what I thought."

"We're basically on the same page," I replied. "Are you busy Friday of next week?"

"Nope!"

"Want to go out with Jack, Kristy, and me?"

"Absolutely! Do you want me to meet you at the Hancock Center?"

"That's easiest, for sure."

"Cool! And we can go back to your place afterwards?"

"If you want."

Lily laughed, "As if I'd say 'no' to fooling around with you!"

We finished eating, I went to class, and when class ended, I acted on Troy's suggestion and asked Teri if she wanted to do something on President's Day, as I'd have the day off from work, and we wouldn't have class.

"Sure!" she exclaimed. "What did you want to do?"

"I'll leave that up to you," I replied. "Just give me your address and phone number, and let me know what time to pick you up."

She gave me the information, and I gave her a business card with my home phone number written on the back. She promised to call to let me know what time to pick her up once she decided what we would do. Our date arranged, I headed back to Lily's to have two helpings of the 'main course' before we showered together.

"Are you having people over now that football season is over?" Lily asked as we dressed.

"No," I replied. "But you're invited to the housewarming party at the end of March."

"Housewarming?"

"Sorry, I was completely remiss! I bought a house, and we'll move in late March."

"Wow! A house at twenty? Maybe I should change my mind on a serious relationship!"

"It takes two to tango," I replied with a smile.

"And we tango very nicely! Call me, OK?"

"Of course."

We finished dressing, then hugged and kissed, and I headed home.

February 10, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Thursday morning, Kasia called and arranged to stop by during the afternoon. When she did, we both signed the agreement, and I made a copy for myself. She let me know that she'd scheduled an ad to run in the Trib for the weekend, and she'd keep me posted on when she'd be showing the house.

"Would you like to meet for pizza again next week?" she asked. "I enjoyed our talk."

"I would, but I have class Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and I have a dinner party to go to on Tuesday. What about Tuesday of the following week?"

"That will work for me! Let me call you that Tuesday morning to make final plans."

I agreed, and after she left, I went back to work. At the end of the day, I headed to University Village to see Violet. When I arrived at her house, I could tell she wasn't happy I'd missed dinner the previous evening. I felt I had to say something because I didn't want to hurt her, but I also didn't want her to feel she had a monopoly on my time when we weren't a couple. The thing was, I couldn't say it that way because if there was anyone with whom I'd never be blunt and direct, it was Violet.

"Want to tell me what's bothering you?" I asked as we sat down to dinner.

I knew, but every conversation with Violet required finesse.

"I missed having dinner with you last night," she replied quietly.

"How many have I missed since we started the new semester?"

"Two," she replied.

"I would hope you understand that I have other friends to see," I said gently. "And that you'd consider we went to a hockey game, too."

"I know," she sighed. "But having you here is the best part of my week. And I'm worried that because you're not taking a class this Summer, I'll hardly get to see you."

"I promised we'd still see each other," I said. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, but...sorry, never mind."

"You can say anything you want to me," I said. "You don't have to worry about me being upset."

"No," she said, shaking her head, "I can't."

"OK," I replied. "You can talk to me about anything, anytime. And I promise to never be angry or upset with you."

"Thanks," she replied.

I suspected strongly that she wanted to tell me how she felt but was frightened about saying the words out loud and the potential implications of voicing them. If true, then this was the exact thing Doctor Lochner had warned about, though she'd been wrong about everything else. Or, perhaps, it was this specific outcome she expected and that had informed her opinion of how to proceed. The problem with that thinking was that it was a recipe for never recovering and never having a semblance of a real life, and in my mind, that was letting Violet's parents win, as they were, indirectly, completely controlling her life.

We finished our meal, cleaned up the kitchen, then headed to class. After class, we had our usual pie and coffee, then I walked her home. The hug I received from Violet lingered a bit longer than usual, and the kiss was one where the corners of our mouths slightly overlapped. As I walked to my car after Violet went into her house, I wondered if I'd simply imagined that the hug had lingered based on the earlier conversation or if it really had.

"Hi!" Bianca exclaimed when I arrived home.

"Ready for bed?" I asked.

"Always! Now?"

"Now is as good a time as any!"

She and Shelly climbed the stairs with me, and we spent three hours fooling around as a trio before the two girls went to their room to sleep, and I simply pulled the comforter over me and fell asleep.

February 11, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I'd contemplated who to invite for my usual Friday night out with Jack and Kristy, and on Wednesday, I'd decided to ask Keiko, who had quickly accepted. She took the L to meet us at the Hancock Center, and after introductions, we headed to Italian Village for dinner.

"There really isn't anything playing at the movies we want to see," Kristy said as we headed to the restaurant. "I thought about The Entity, but it was panned."

"What's it about?" I asked.

"A woman who is raped by demons. Supposedly based on a true story."

"I call bullshit!" I declared.

"Why?" Keiko asked.

"I don't believe any such things exist. I'd wager the person who claimed it was mentally ill."

"Shinto teaches that spirits do exist," Keiko said.

I nodded, "I know, as do other religions, but I've seen no evidence of such things. And if someone making the claim that they were raped by demons, the burden of proof is on them, not on me. Are you religious?"

"I practice Shinto, but it's not the same as what I think you mean when you say that. We're not like Christians; we're more like Buddhists with added beliefs about our ancestors and other spirits, called «kami», which also refers to the spark of divinity in a person."

I nodded, "I've read about Shinto and Buddhism," I replied. "My Hindu friend suggested I read about Eastern religions. What I really was asking was if you practiced your religion."

"I'm very good at it, so I don't need practice!" Keiko said mirthfully, causing the rest of us to laugh.

"Good one!" Kristy declared.

"Seriously, though," Keiko said, "it's what you would call 'cultural tradition' more than anything, at least as I see it. I honor the spirits of my ancestors with incense and that kind of thing, but there isn't an idea of 'sin' the way people in the West think of sin. It's an important part of being traditionally Japanese, which my grandfather is, and I feel it's important to be the dutiful granddaughter and honor his practices. My cousin Ailea, who'll be seven on Sunday, does the same thing, even though her dad isn't Japanese."

"Are both your parents of Japanese ancestry?"

"Yes. My Aunt Yukiko married a man of English descent with the surname Palmer. My mom was born in Japan and met my dad when they were both at UCLA, about twenty years ago. My grandfather keeps a very Japanese house, well, as much as can be done here in Chicago. Is me being Shinto a problem?"

"No," I replied. "I didn't mean to imply it was, but I've had a few negative interactions with Christians who were, in my view, fanatical."

"Who hasn't?" Keiko asked. "They think I'm a pagan! One girl told me I was going to burn in Hell for being Shinto."

"People need to get a grip!" Kristy declared. "An Evangelical, right?"

"Yes," Keiko replied. "They attend a church in the Western Suburbs."

"My grandparents are members of a church in that area, so it might be the same one. They kicked my mom out of the house when she got pregnant with me at sixteen."

"That is SO wrong!" Keiko declared. "My parents would not be happy, but mostly because it would interfere with my studies."

"My friend got pregnant and had a baby right after High School graduation, and her parents were pretty unhappy, but they didn't kick her out."

"I'm not sure my dad would be that tolerant," Kristy said. "Well, when I was in High School. Now, he's counting the days until he can have a grandkid."

"He can keep counting!" Jack declared. "I need to move up the ladder, and you need to get your law degree!"

"You two are engaged?" Keiko asked.

"More or less," Kristy said. "I'm planning on moving in with Jack once the semester is over."

"I'd almost classify that as 'not news'," I chuckled. "I mentioned to Bianca that was likely."

"I should have said something," Jack said. "But she just agreed yesterday."

"I wouldn't mind an invitation like that!" Keiko declared, squeezing my arm.

"I'll keep that in mind!" I replied with a smile. "Kristy, what did you plan if the movies are out?"

"Actually, IIT is showing The Blues Brothers and non-students can get in for a buck with ID from another school."

"Sounds good to me if Keiko is OK with it."

"Yes, that's fine," she agreed.

We had a great dinner, the movie was really good, and after it ended, I invited Keiko to come home with me, an offer she quickly accepted.

February 12, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"I very much enjoyed last night," Keiko said as I drove her back to Loyola early on Saturday morning. "Both before we went to your house and after!"

"I enjoyed it as well."

"Ask me out again, please."

"I will!"

At Loyola, she leaned over and gave me a nice kiss, and once she'd gone into the dorm, I drove to Lincoln Park so I could pick up Marcia for our getaway to Waukesha, Wisconsin.

"Come in for a bit," Marcia said when I rang the bell. "I need about five minutes to finish getting ready. I was interrupted by an important phone call."

"Everything OK?"

"Yes, just a friend from college who's in Colorado who needed advice. I've called her for advice as well."

I went into the townhouse and sat in the living room while she went upstairs.

"Hi," Jamee said, coming down the stairs in slacks and a nurse's smock.

"Hi," I replied.

"Sorry to be abrupt again, but I'm on my way out. My shift starts in twenty-five minutes, and I'm running late! Have fun this weekend."

"Thanks."

She left, and Marcia came down the stairs about three minutes later.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm all set."

We left the house and walked the three blocks to my car. Once we were settled, I started the car, pulled away from the curb, and headed for the expressway.

"You know," I said. "I never asked how much this will cost."

"Don't worry about it," Marcia said. "I invited you, and you aren't a troglodyte!"

"As far as you're aware!" I chuckled. "Maybe there's a cave under my house!"

"You have a fairly broad vocabulary for someone who didn't go to college."

"I think a good part of that can be chalked up to the Wall Street Journal. It's not written at a fifth-grade level the way the Trib is. When I first started reading the Journal, I had to look up some words in a dictionary because I had never heard them before. I mostly didn't read the newspaper growing up because it was money we couldn't afford to spend. The exception was the Sunday paper because there were always coupons that had more value than the cost of the newspaper."

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but your experience growing up is so totally foreign to me."

"Something I believe I pointed out not long after we met. I'd say my experience growing up was further from yours than yours was from Jeri's."

"You might be right about that," Marcia replied. "It's really mostly a matter of degree between us, such as where we went on vacation. Florida for us; Europe for them."

"Nowhere for me. I still haven't been anywhere except Ohio, Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois, and Wisconsin."

"Are you planning a vacation this year?"

"I'm taking a week to work on my new house, but I haven't made any plans for the other time off I have. I'll worry about that once I get moved in."

"Where would you go?"

"That's a good question, and I haven't even thought about it. This year, I may just take some time to visit Bev, assuming she'll see me."

"She doesn't want to see you?"

"She asked me to give her space and give her time. I have no idea what that means."

"Usually, it means the end of a relationship," Marcia said. "But in your case, from everything you said, she might actually need time to figure things out and isn't trying to break up without breaking up, if that makes sense."

"I just wish people would say what they mean and mean what they say instead of trying to speak in code."

"Mostly it's about trying to avoid hurting someone's feelings."

"But if you're breaking up with them, or whatever, how does that help? In my mind, not telling the truth is selfish in the extreme because you're not being forthright to avoid your own discomfort."

"Don't you run into people who don't like blunt talk?"

"I do, but that's on them, not on me. I had this conversation with my landlord when we had pizza so I could make a deal with regard to terminating the lease. I made the exact point that it's not my fault if someone can't handle the truth or doesn't want to hear it. I want people to tell me straight and not beat around the bush, and I do the same."

"You'd never make it in politics."

"I believe I'll take that as a major compliment! What we need are politicians who tell us the truth, not what we want to hear. Maybe then things would improve."

"You'd never get elected."

"And that would be on the people, not on me."

"But you couldn't get anything done," Marcia objected. "Which would be on you."

"No, if I tell the truth and people can't handle the truth and don't want to put me in charge, then they are completely responsible for what happens. Heck, people who don't vote are responsible for what happens just as much as people who do vote!"

"How do you figure?"

"If you don't vote, you're saying, in effect, 'any of the above'. What I'd really like is a ballot that said 'none of the above' or, even better, both 'none of the above' and 'this political office should be eliminated'."

Marcia laughed, "As if any politician is going to add THOSE to the ballot."

"Which should tell you something! If they don't think they can win against 'none of the above' or 'we do not need this position', then they shouldn't be in office! I'm never going to agree completely with any politician, so I just want them to tell me truthfully what they will do so I can make an informed decision instead of having to guess from the euphemisms and code words."

"Keep your day job!"

"I plan to!"

February 12, 1983, Waukesha, Wisconsin

I pulled into the parking lot of Jimmy's Grotto at about 11:20am, having followed Marcia's navigating directions from Chicago to Waukesha. We got out of the car and went into the small restaurant. Marcia strongly encouraged me to order a pepperoni Ponza Rotta, so I did for each of us, along with a pitcher of Coke for us to share.

"How did you find out about this place?" I asked.

"Jamee's dad is from Waukesha," Marcia replied. "He brought us here a couple of years ago."

"The only downside I see is that if they're actually as good as you say they are, it's a ninety-minute drive to have them!"

"I'm absolutely positive you'll love them!"

"How far is the bed-and-breakfast from here?"

"About ten miles. It's actually outside the city limits, on the Fox River. We can check in any time after noon, so we're good."

"You know, I never asked, but what's the difference between a bed-and-breakfast and a hotel?"

"A bed-and-breakfast is often in a converted house or similar building and offers exactly that - a bed and breakfast. No room service or anything like that. It's a lot less expensive and often a better experience. Of course, at some point, probably soon, you're going to be staying in five-star hotels with over-the-top service."

"I have pretty simple needs," I said.

"Maybe," Marcia replied. "Once you see how good it can be, your preferences might change."

I was SO tempted to say that was true about sex, but I really didn't want to get into that topic because it always resulted in Marcia being frustrated that I wanted a two-way conversation, and she wasn't willing to be open about it. That was fine, but it meant no conversation because I wouldn't have one where I opened up, and she refused to.

"I need to make the money before I can spend it!"

The waitress brought our pitcher of Coke, and I poured some for Marcia and myself.

"But you're seriously ahead of your target, right?"

"As we discussed, it all depends on the trades I've made paying off the way I expect them to. The money I'll make, besides commissions, stays in the fund as 'carried interest' so I can avoid taxes on it. The best scenario is not needing it and being able to build wealth while paying no taxes."

"That's just wrong."

"Take it up with your boss! If the law was different, I'd do it differently. I once heard something that I believe is absolutely true -- it is every American's patriotic duty to pay the minimum taxes legally due. If you want more, change the law. If you aren't going to change the law, don't bitch about the fact that I'm paying what I'm legally required to pay."

"The laws are rigged for the rich," Marcia said.

"Maybe so, but again, change them; don't complain when I follow them. And this goes right back to what I said about politicians. If they came out and said, 'I plan to rig the system for the rich', they'd lose instantly. So instead, they tell the people what they want to hear, then make backroom deals that basically do the opposite. And it's not just Republicans because Democrats do the same damned thing. I was born in 1962, and since then, we've had three Democrats -- Kennedy, Johnson, and Carter -- and three Republicans -- Nixon, Ford, and Reagan. And really, counting Ford is a bit odd because he only finished Nixon's term.

"If we do it in years since I was born, it was ten for Democrats and ten so far for Republicans. And during that entire time, Democrats have controlled the House of Representatives, and they controlled the Senate for my entire life until 1980. In fact, if you want to place blame for my tax rates being 'too low' or for any advantages I have because of the system being 'rigged for the rich' as you called it, the blame is squarely on your boss and his party.

"I'm basically a Democrat, and I'll vote for the winner of the Democratic primary in the mayoral election, whether it's Mayor Byrne or Congressman Washington, and I'll vote Democratic in the Congressional election next year, though I'll probably vote for Reagan because I think he's done a decent job. Of course, a lot could change in the next eighteen months, so we'll see."

"You don't think State's Attorney Daley has a chance?"

"Not really. While he was ahead when he announced last year, he's actually the spoiler who'll get your boss elected Mayor, at least according to the basic analysis I've done. If he weren't in the race, Mayor Byrne would easily get over fifty percent of the vote."

"Because too many whites won't vote for a black mayor."

"Even if that's true, and I suspect there's some truth to it, it's also the case that an incumbent who has done a credible job is almost always reelected. Byrne has done a credible job. She won the first time because the Machine screwed up and nominated only South Siders as candidates for citywide offices."

"And a bunch of Republicans voted in the Democratic primary against Bilandic."

"That's what happens when you can't clear the snow off the streets in a major city! Back home, they closed the schools for a week, and basically everything shut down. But we had food, a fireplace, and a lantern, and we were fine, and nobody complained. Here, well, you know what happened."

The waitress brought our Ponza Rottas, and I watched Marcia to get an idea how to attack the crispy-brown pizza concoction in front of me. In the end, it was just like with the calzone -- cut with a knife and eat with a fork, just as we did for Chicago-style pizza. One significant difference was that the Ponza Rottas were extremely hot, having been deep fried, so after cutting, we had to wait a bit to eat them.

"These are awesome," I said about five minutes later. "Crispy on the outside, hot and spicy with gooey cheese on the inside!"

"Told ya!" Marcia declared. "Worth the trip?"

"Absolutely."

The Ponza Rottas were filling and delicious, and I was absolutely going to have them again.

"There isn't a place in Chicago that serves these?" I asked.

"No. The closest thing you can get is a pizza puff, which is similar but not nearly as good. And avoid the ones at the hot dog stands because those are frozen, not fresh, and are really bad. These are the best on the planet, bar none."

"Well, given a sample size of one, I'm not willing to go that far, but I agree they're fantastic. Allow me to pay, please, if you're paying for the bed-and-breakfast."

"OK," Marcia agreed.

I paid the check with cash, used some of the change to leave a tip, and then Marcia and I left the restaurant and got into my LeBaron. She once again provided navigation directions until we came to what appeared to be a large, old farmhouse which was set close to the Fox River, as she'd said.

I parked in a marked spot along the driveway and grabbed both our bags from the back seat. I locked the car and followed Marcia into the house. A small sign directed us down a hallway to an office where a guy about my age was sitting at a desk.

"Welcome to Sears Farm Bed-And-Breakfast! Can I help you?"

"Hi!" Marcia exclaimed. "You should have a reservation for Blake."

He picked up a small stack of cards and selected one.

"One night, paid in advance by check," he said.

"Correct," Marcia agreed.

The clerk had her sign the card and then handed her two keys.

"You'll go up the main staircase, turn left, and go to the end of the hallway."

"Thank you."

"Enjoy your stay! Breakfast is served from 6:00am until 10:00am on Sundays, and there is always fresh coffee and hot water for tea."

"Great! Thanks."

I followed Marcia out of the office and up the stairs. She turned left as directed and came to the end of the hallway, which confused me as there was only one door marked 'R.W. Sears Suite'. She put one of the keys in the door and opened it, revealing a large room that was likely the master bedroom of the farmhouse. I immediately deduced the room only had one large bed, and I wondered what was going on.

"What am I missing?" I asked warily as Marcia walked into the room.

"Just come in," she said.

I did as she asked, closing the door behind me but staying by it.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"They only had one room available, but it has a king-size bed, so we can manage."

"Don't you think you should have mentioned this beforehand?" I asked.

"So you could cancel?"

"Put the shoe on the other foot and think about how you would react if I'd said I was getting two rooms but only booked one and expected you to sleep in the bed with me."

"That's different!" she protested.

"No, it's not," I said firmly, trying hard not to sound annoyed, which I was, or angry, which I wasn't. "Saying that it's different is exactly the kind of double standard I expressly reject. And honestly, you should know that from all our conversations."

"You're angry," Marcia said.

"No, I'm annoyed because I said 'separate rooms'."

"No, Mr. Pedantic, you asked about separate rooms. I pointed out you were the only guy who was single who wasn't trying to get into my panties, and the conversation derailed."

I suppressed a sigh and said, "And you know darn well that it was a request, phrased as a question. I was confirming we'd have separate rooms, not wondering if we would, Miss Interpretation!"

"I see what you did there! Miss interpretation; misinterpretation."

"Don't change the subject, please."

"Jesus, Jonathan, chill!"

"I'm going to repeat what I said before -- put the shoe on the other foot and tell me if it would be OK for me to simply assume you would sleep in the same bed with me?"

"Inviting someone away for the weekend is a pretty strong invitation."

"In some circumstances, I'd agree with you, but not in our circumstance. I made it absolutely clear what my conditions were for even considering anything beyond friendship. You've basically ignored my conditions, and now you think you have me trapped. Well, you don't. I'll cover whatever this cost and we can go home right now."

"Seriously?"

"Will you stop for one minute and forget what you want and instead think about how you'd feel if I did this to you? And while you're thinking, think about the fact that you wouldn't even discuss the topic with me, and yet you seem to think I'll just jump into bed with you."

"Now, who's assuming?"

"OK, fine, I'm assuming," I replied. "Look me square in the eyes and tell me I'm wrong, and you didn't assume I'd sleep with you."

"You'd really go home?"

"Yes, I'd really go home. Your options right now are to have the conversation you've been avoiding for the past four months, or we go home."

"An ultimatum?"

"But one as a consequence of you booking one room and concealing it from me until we arrived here," I replied. "What happens next is up to you. What happens after that depends on what happens next."

"I'm sorry," Marcia said, then basically collapsed into a chair.

"All you had to do was talk to me," I replied. "I'm not promising how that would have ended or how it will end now, but it would have prevented this difficult situation. Right now, the question for you is whether you want to have an adult conversation or not. If not, then let's go back to Chicago."

"Why are you so obsessed with that?"

I took a deep breath and let it out because I was supremely frustrated, to the point of being severely irritated with Marcia.

"I'm not obsessed," I countered evenly. "Consider everything that has happened and the fact that you have rebuffed every attempt to have a two-way conversation about sex. That's your prerogative, and I respect that, but then you book a single room and simply assume I'm going to acquiesce when our first encounter made it fairly clear we aren't sexually compatible."

"And when I asked you why, you refused to tell me!" Marcia declared accusingly.

"Because what I would do with someone else wasn't relevant to our relationship. I did offer to discuss it with you several times, but you adamantly refused to have an actual conversation. You wanted it to be one-sided, I objected, and that created an impasse. Then, at some point, you decided you wanted to have sex again, and instead of talking to me, you did something that had I done would have offended you, and rightly so.

"But because I'm a guy, you not only think I shouldn't be offended but that I don't have the right to be offended! In the end, it all comes down to the fact you won't talk to me. I've tried, on several occasions, to have that conversation, but each time, you either flat-out refuse or change the subject. I don't know what you expect from me. Well, that's not true, I do know, but I don't understand why you would expect me to go to bed with you without a conversation."

"It was really that bad?" Marcia asked.

I felt the only answer was to state the brutal, honest truth, something I'd chosen not to do the morning after because I'd felt it would have served no purpose other than to upset Marcia, and given there was no intent, at that point, of us being together again, there was no need to state what was unstated. Now, there was ample reason, and I had to do it.

"I'm going to speak absolutely plainly now," I said. "Even more plainly than I've spoken before. I used the word 'incompatible' because what we did -- once in the missionary position with you being mostly passive and almost no foreplay -- is not my idea of 'good sex'. Yes, sometimes, I'm sure that would be all that happened, but let's just say that as a first time between two experienced people, that does not portend well for the future.

"I don't expect you to have an actual conversation with me, but you know what? I'm going to answer your question from the morning after. What would I have done differently? Two or three times, at least, in different positions, oral both ways, and in the morning, done it at least once before taking a shower together. What we did is the caricature of married sex you hear on TV or in movies. That's not for me. Now that I've said that, do we talk, or do we go home?"

X. An Exception To Every Rule

February 12, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I had not been at all surprised when Marcia had opted not to have the conversation. The drive back had been uncomfortably silent, and I'd turned the radio up to fill the void, though I'd have turned it down if Marcia had wanted to talk. I drew an important conclusion from the entire episode -- Jeri had been right about Marcia not fitting into our group. She was, in my opinion, simply not mature enough despite being several years older than both Jeri and me.

When we arrived at Marcia's townhouse, she got out, grabbed her bag, and shut the door of the car without so much as saying 'goodbye'. I expected not to hear from her, and I certainly wasn't going to reach out, as there was really nothing I could do unless she was willing to actually talk to me. I really wondered what she'd been thinking, but I couldn't read minds, so there was no point in tying myself in knots.

"Jonathan?!" Bianca exclaimed when I walked into the house. "What are you doing home?"

"Marcia and I agreed to end our weekend early," I said.

"That bad?"

"Let's just say we have irreconcilable differences and leave it that."

"OK. What do you plan to do tonight?"

"I have no plans," I replied. "Though I think I'll call Clara and see if she wants to go out tomorrow. What plans do you and Shelly have?"

"Some of the girls from school are coming over for pizza and a movie. You're welcome to join us."

"What movies?"

"We haven't decided; we'll hit the video store and figure it out later."

"Who's going to be here?"

"Sally, Lucy, Sylvia, Julianne, Kasey, Miranda, Juliette, and a new girl, Izzy."

"OK. Pizza and a movie sound good. I'll chip in, of course."

"Not necessary!"

"Let me go make my call to Clara, and I'll come back down."

I went upstairs, unpacked my overnight bag, then called Clara, who was very happy to hear from me. We agreed I'd pick her up at 5:00pm, we'd have dinner, and then I'd take her home because it was a 'school night' and she had to be home by 10:00pm. Once I completed the call, I joined Bianca and Shelly in the great room.

"Trouble?" Shelly asked.

"As I said to Bianca, I can't say anything more than 'irreconcilable differences'."

I had just sat down when the phone rang, and I got up to answer it.

"Kane."

"Hi, Jonny, it's Bev."

"Hang on while I go upstairs."

"OK."

I asked Bianca to hang up the kitchen phone when I picked up the phone upstairs, and she agreed.

"Hi, Bev!" I said once I'd switched phones. "How are you?"

"I'm OK. I did get the job and I start on Monday."

"That's good to hear. How is Heather?"

"She's fine, and she likes Mrs. McGill. Did you hear from my parents again?"

"No," I replied. "I was adamant that I wouldn't violate your confidence. I do think you should ask for child support from Glen."

"I don't want to talk to him."

"So don't. Have Mr. Chojnicki handle all of it."

"And if Glen tries for custody or visitation?"

"I have no idea how that works," I replied. "That's a question for Mr. Chojnicki. Of course, you could always play the 'student/teacher' card. You were seventeen at the time."

"Sixteen is legal," Bev countered.

"And do you think he'd risk the reputation damage? It was one thing for Mr. Kingman and Kimberly to marry right after she graduated. It's a whole different thing for a teacher to get a student pregnant. Talk to Mr. Chojnicki, Bev."

"I don't know if I could afford him."

"Compared to the child support you'd receive over the next seventeen years? And back to when Heather was born, which would allow you to repay the State of Ohio? I know you won't take a gift, so I'll lend you the money to pay Mr. Chojnicki, and we can work out a long repayment plan on whatever schedule you need."

"I don't know," she said.

Which was her common refrain to just about everything. She was confused, but so was I, though my source of confusion was why she was so reluctant to allow me to be part of her life.

"Bev, whatever else is true, you need to be able to take care of Heather and yourself, and that's what child support is for. Think about what's best for Heather, please."

"I'll think about it," she replied.

"That's all I can ask. I'm glad you called."

"Thanks for letting me have the space. I'll call you in a few weeks, OK?"

"Yes. If you need anything, you know you can call any time, day or night."

"I know. Thanks, Jonny."

"You're welcome. Talk to you soon."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, hopeful that she'd call Mr. Chojnicki and initiate whatever was necessary for child support.

"How is Bev?" Bianca asked when I returned downstairs.

"She says she's OK, and she starts a job on Monday."

"That's good."

"It is, but she's still confused and unsure."

"I think I'd be confused and unsure if I had an unplanned kid, and she's younger than me," Shelly observed.

"It's even more complicated," I replied. "But as we've said, I can't really discuss her situation. I think I'm going to do my laundry, then go grocery shopping. I had planned to do it tomorrow, but given I made a date with Clara, I should do it today and also drop off my suits at the dry cleaners."

"We're just hanging out," Bianca replied. "So we'll hang with, if you want."

"Always! The day when the three of us don't live together is going to be weird."

"So don't stop!" Bianca said with a silly smile. "I gave you the solution!"

"With the minor detail that your plan doesn't fit Shelly's vision of her future."

"So we work on her!" Bianca declared. "If things went a certain way, she could have the piece of paper, and we could both have your kids!"

"I am sitting right here, you know!" Shelly declared, laughing and shaking her head.

"So you are," I chuckled. "And all else aside, I can't fail to mention I am not ready to even think about actually having a kid at this point!"

"You were ready to take in Bev and Heather," Bianca challenged.

"Special circumstances," I replied. "Things have changed a bit since I seriously considered that, and I'm sure they'll change again. Leave in five minutes?"

"Yes."

We went to Jewel, stopped at the dry cleaners, and then returned home, where I saw a blinking light on the answering machine. I checked the message and then returned the call to Deanna.

"I know this is a long shot," she said. "But are you free tonight?"

"Actually, I am," I replied. "My plans fell through."

"Want to do something together? I mean, besides what we always do, which we'll obviously do!"

"What did you have in mind?"

"Dinner and a private tour of the Art Institute. It closes at 5:00pm, but I have access."

"I've never been to an art museum."

"Wow!" Deanna said with a soft laugh. "A virgin!"

I chuckled, "In a manner of speaking! How about Italian Village on Monroe for dinner? It's walking distance to the Art Institute if you don't think it's too cold; it's in the upper 20°s. "

"I can manage if you can. Jones Hall is at State and Madison, so it's a short walk either way. Meet you at the restaurant? How soon can you be there?"

"Give me forty minutes to shower, dress, and drive there."

"Sounds good!"

We said 'goodbye', and I let Bianca and Shelly know I wouldn't be joining them for pizza and a movie.

"The girls will be disappointed!" Bianca declared.

"They don't know I'm going to be here!" I chuckled. "So no, they won't!"

"They will when they see you!"

"They'll get over it," I chuckled. "Anyway, I'm leaving as soon as I shower and dress."

As I'd promised Deanna, I arrived at Italian Village just under forty minutes after we'd ended our call. She greeted me with a quick hug and kiss, and about ten minutes later, we were seated.

"How is it you can get into the Art Institute after hours?" I asked after the waiter took our orders for Cokes.

"Students are allowed in after hours so they can spend time studying and sketching without interference from the public. I can get you in because you have a student ID."

"From Circle," I said.

"Yes, but that's sufficient, so long as you're with me."

"OK. I have zero knowledge about art."

"In some ways, that's a good thing. Too many people are given false ideas about art and false impressions as a result of biases. Did you have art class?"

"The last time was fifth grade, and I doubt making a papier mâché mask qualifies as 'art'!"

"You'd be wrong! Gilded papier mâché was a thing in 18th-century England, and there was a significant market for painted Russian papier mâché in the late 19th century. It's also used for traditional handcrafts in Mexico and for floats at Carnival, especially in South America. The one held in Rio de Janeiro is huge, with millions of people participating daily."

"As I said, I don't know anything about art! My only other 'masterpiece' was fingerpainting in kindergarten!"

"And if you just put colors on paper, you were creating abstract art!"

I laughed, "OK, but I doubt anyone cared other than my mom and my art teacher."

"So not all different from me! There's a reason 'starving artist' is a stereotype. Most artists go unappreciated during their lives, or, if they are appreciated, it's by a very small group of people, usually patrons of the arts or collectors who think there is something special about the artwork. That doesn't happen very often."

"Your desire to teach art is basically a way to fund your art, right?"

"Pretty much, unless I were to find a patron or sponsor, but those are so rare as to effectively not exist. Well, or, and don't take this the wrong way, a rich husband to support my habit!"

"Oil on canvas instead of coke?" I asked as the waiter brought our soft drinks.

"Are you ready to order?" he asked.

"A few minutes, please," I requested.

He left, and Deanna and I perused the menus. When he returned about five minutes later, we were ready, and he took our orders.

"It really is like an addiction," Deanna said. "Because I really can't stop."

"But not a harmful one like smoking or alcoholism or drugs like coke or heroin."

"I've seen artists go for long periods without sleep or food because they were in a creative mood, but I agree it's not like the things you mentioned. It's not my only addiction, though."

"Oh?"

"Fucking!" Deanna declared, drawing looks from people at a table close to us. "Actually, fucking you!"

"Sex is addictive, that's for sure!" I agreed. "Going back to what you said about funding your habit, do you mind if I ask how you're paying for school?"

"A partial scholarship, help from my parents, and loans."

"What degree will you have?"

"A Bachelor of Fine Arts in painting and drawing, and then a Master of Arts in Art Education. That will let me obtain an Illinois teaching certificate, with a goal of teaching art."

"Here in Chicago?"

"In the area, though, though I'll take a job downstate if I can't find one in the city or suburbs."

"That sounds like a pretty good plan."

"I'd much rather spend my time painting, but a girl has to eat!"

"A place to live and clothes are helpful as well!"

Deanna laughed, "It's a turn of phrase!"

"I know! I'm just being my usual goofy self!"

"You can be so serious one moment and so silly the next, and sometimes it's hard to tell when you're kidding."

"Sorry."

"No, it's OK. I don't mind dry humor; I was explaining why I responded the way I did."

The waiter brought our salads, and we began eating. While we ate, I answered Deanna's questions about my job and my past, and she described her life growing up as 'typically Catholic', which meant going to Catholic school, going to Mass every week, and generally being a 'good girl'. That last comment engendered a question from me just as we finished our meal.

"And meeting Sophie and Ivy was enough to convince you to go against your upbringing?"

"Don't you know the trope of Catholic girls away from home the first time?"

"I have heard the Frank Zappa song," I replied.

"That might be a bit over-the-top, but when you're raised in a conservative Catholic house and go away to college and experience true freedom, it brings on a bit of rebellion, and the best way to rebel against the Church is fucking!"

That drew another disapproving look from the older couple who had given her a similar look when she'd used that word earlier.

"You might want to be careful about your choice of words," I said quietly. "I suspect the couple at the table behind you is going to complain."

Deanna rolled her eyes, "People need to get a grip!"

The waiter came to the table and asked if we wanted dessert, and I asked for the check, rather than risk having the older couple make a scene. I paid, left a nice tip, and then Deanna and I left the restaurant to walk to the Art Institute.

"Did I embarrass you?" she asked.

"No. Personally, I don't care what you say, and if you want to describe what we do in explicit detail, that's up to you. But we weren't in a place that belongs to either you or me, and isn't a public street. And that means we have to respect what the owners of the place allow. I'll wager anything you care to wager, they would side with the older couple, not us."

"That is how the establishment works," she said.

"That's how private property works," I replied. "You can say whatever you want on your property, and most anything you want in a truly public place, but on my property, I decide what's OK and what's not, both in terms of speech and activities. I bet your dorm has rules you have to follow, and it's not because of 'he who has the gold makes the rules', but because the property belongs to someone else. My lease has rules, too. When I buy my house, I get to make the rules, though I still have to follow the law."

"I didn't take you for a conformist!"

"I'm not! But I also respect private property because I want other people to respect my private property. It's a trade."

"You don't see private property as exploitation by the rich and powerful?"

"Given my mom and I managed to have a house despite our difficult situation, no, I don't. That's not to say it can't be abused because it certainly could. But the thing is, if you finish your degree and start working, you can save for a house and buy one on a teacher's salary. I'm not saying it will be easy, but nothing stops you. And if you marry, it'll be even easier because you'll have two incomes."

"Or I could just be your mistress!" Deanna said with a soft laugh.

"I'm not sure my future wife would appreciate that," I chuckled. "But good to know!"

"Cheating is bad," she said. "That's why I didn't join Sophie and Ivy with the prof. He's married, and they don't care, but that's a bridge too far for me."

"People are free to do whatever they want in that regard, and it's literally none of my business, but I won't knowingly participate in cheating, and if I were to discover it, I'd end the relationship immediately. If you won't keep your word, you can't be trusted. And that trust, once broken, is difficult to regain."

"I agree. I obviously don't have a problem with casual sex or you being with other girls, so long as we're totally honest with each other."

"Then we're on the same page," I confirmed.

"Do you think I could see you more often?" she asked.

"I don't believe I've ever said 'no' when you've called."

"That's not an answer!"

"It is an answer," I replied. "Just not the one you were looking for! But may I make a point?"

"Sure."

"The arrangement with Sophie and Ivy was that they would call me, not the other way around, so they determined how often we saw each other, and they set the basic terms of the relationship. I assumed, given you brought the bottle of Jack Daniel's -- the 'price' if you will -- that you wanted the same thing: a casual fuck when you wanted, on your terms, on your timing.

"We changed that a bit when you suggested monthly visits after I commissioned the four paintings. I hope it's obvious that I'm absolutely OK with that, as well as what Sophie and Ivy want. But if you want something different, you have to tell me what it is, and then we can discuss what's possible."

"Is everything you do decided by simple analysis?" Deanna asked.

"I don't allow emotions to control me, so yes, I do, but the analysis isn't always simple."

"Have you ever been in love?"

"There isn't an easy answer to that question," I replied.

"It's a 'yes' or 'no' question."

"Except it isn't because the one truly serious relationship I had wasn't about falling in love because of the way it developed. That doesn't mean I don't love anyone, just that I can't say if I was 'in love' with Bev or not, and I'm not sure I'll ever know because of the way things have developed since I decided to leave home."

"Bev was your High School girlfriend?"

"That word doesn't really accurately describe the relationship. Bev and I were friends from the time we were toddlers and one day, it went from what I suppose you'd call a platonic relationship to a very intimate one. I'm not kidding when I say that it was less than five minutes from our first kiss to our first fuck.

"In my mind, Bev was always my best friend, and I didn't attach any romantic notions to our relationship, and I wouldn't have called her my girlfriend. That all changed after I moved here and she became pregnant, which led to conversations we should have had when I decided to move to Chicago, but at that point, it was, in effect, too late.

"The fact that she was pregnant was not what made it 'too late'; it was me deciding unilaterally to move to Chicago without discussing it with her that was the problem, and we're still suffering the effects of my failure to properly analyze the situation and realize what an idiot I was. But I can't go back; I can only learn from what happened and move forward. And that's why I need to hear what you want."

"Not your kid, right?"

"Correct, but that's neither here nor there because it wouldn't bother me. That said, things are such a mess between us that I'm not sure we'll even be close friends again."

"Do you want to?"

"Be friends? Absolutely. As for more than that, so much has happened in the past two years that I can't answer that question, and even if I could, it's not clear to me what Bev wants or will want."

"I think I get it," Deanna said. "You were burned by not asking what she thought, so now you require a conversation, probably a deep one, to have a serious relationship."

And that right there hit the nail on the head about Marcia. She wanted a deeper relationship and wanted to change the character of the relationship, but had, in effect, declared 'off-limits' large swaths of things I felt we needed to discuss.

"I'd say you're right," I said. "And that is how our relationship, I mean yours and mine, started."

"I showed up with a bottle of Jack and asked to fuck."

"Clearly communicating what you wanted and the character of the relationship. As I said, it changed when we discussed my commissioning artwork, and we discussed that. Now you want to change it again, so that requires clear communication so we don't mess things up."

"What happens if we don't want the same thing?"

"Then either we compromise, or we end things amicably, as adults. That's how it is with Sophie and Ivy, and I know at some point I simply won't hear from them again, and that's OK because I know it's just sex, and we haven't developed anything beyond that. They both have a 'no overnight' rule, which makes sense because it is just sex, and sleeping together can imply something more. Things are different with you because we have a relationship beyond just sex."

"My art," Deanna said.

"Yes, and the fact that you slept over. I sense you want something beyond just sex and art, given you asked if we could see each other more often."

"I like you, and I don't just mean because the sex is great. I'm not even close to being ready to decide on a lifetime partner, and I suspect you aren't either, especially given the veritable tsunami of pussy I believe you have available to you."

"It's not that," I replied. "I mean, yes, Sophie is correct that I'm basically drowning in it, but it's also the case that when I find the right person, I'll give all of that up."

Well, unless I went with Bianca's plan, which did have its attraction!

"I haven't thought this through," Deanna said. "Mainly because I'm the artsy type, not the logical or analytical type, but would you be interested in more dates like this one?"

"I would," I replied.

"And you'll ask me out?"

"Yes. Do you want to switch our monthly assignations to dates and overnights?"

"That would be perfect. And ask me out occasionally besides those?"

"How about we start with a week from Friday? It would be a double date with my friends Jack and Kristy, who are going to live with me in my new house."

"Is there room for an art studio?" Deanna asked.

"Living together is quite the leap from going out a few times a month!"

"True, though with my own room that was basically an art studio which also had a futon, the only difference would be we'd be able to see each other regularly and fuck more often."

"Let me think about it," I said. "When would you have to let the Art Institute know you weren't going to be in the dorm?"

"By August 1st. You're seriously considering it?"

"You asked me to, so I think I have to. And I try my best not to make knee-jerk decisions about anything. What would happen if I were to say 'no'?"

"It was actually a lark," Deanna said. "I didn't expect you to take it seriously."

"May I engage in a bit of amateur psychoanalysis?"

"Yes," Deanna said as we approached a side entrance to the Art Institute. "But let's get inside first."

Deanna led me to a guard's desk, showed her ID and the guard asked for mine. Once he had taken down all the information, he admitted us.

"What do you want to see?" she asked.

"I have no clue what to even ask for, so show me what you think is interesting."

"Let's start with modern art," Deanna said. "That's my preference."

I followed her to a gallery room with numerous display cases and paintings, many of which were abstract.

"Go ahead," she said, "psychoanalyze me!"

I chuckled, "It's just a feeling. Basically, you asked about the art studio in jest, though I think deep down it was a serious request, but you wanted to make it easy to pass off as joking if I freaked out. I'm not saying you did that consciously because our subconscious is pretty strong."

"I'd say that's probably true," Deanna said, "but I'm not very good at self-analysis. You would never ask for something like that, even in jest, without fully analyzing every possible outcome before you did it."

"I can't disagree with that observation. In any event, when I responded as if it were a serious question, you had to do some fast thinking, which you did, and tried to pass it off as wanting your own room and thus not impinging on my freedom to see other girls and have overnight guests."

"Busted," Deanna replied.

"It's not about accusing you of anything," I said. "And it's not about a game of 'gotcha'. It's about understanding what it is you truly want."

"Besides being a famous artist, I can't answer that question."

"That's long-term," I replied. "And it's similar to my desire to be a successful investor and fund manager. The question is more about the short term. I know you know my feelings about anything exclusive or permanent right now, and I think that's part of why you shifted from what appeared to be an offer to live together to one of being housemates."

"I'm not sure I can handle having everything I do or say analyzed."

"But that's how relationships work at their most fundamental level. The difference with me is that I'm open about it, willing to speak my mind, and willing to have my conclusions challenged. Most everyone simply does the analysis internally, often subconsciously, and they don't talk about it. Think about every relationship you've had and how you handled it."

Deanna was quiet for a moment, then said, "It just seems so cold and calculating, doing it the way you do."

"Perhaps, but the advantage is that you always know where you stand, always know what I'm thinking, and don't have to try to guess if I'm dissatisfied with the relationship. Everyone does what I do; they just hide it from others, and even from themselves, if it's subconscious.

"Fundamentally, you have to have a reason to start, continue, or end a relationship. In that way, it's similar to making an investment. You analyze it, decide when to buy, when to sell, and when to hold, but you don't act on every opportunity, just the ones that you believe are most likely to succeed."

"That's pretty deep," Deanna observed. "How about we do the tour, go back to your house, screw ourselves silly, and continue this conversation when we see each other in two weeks? That will give me time to think it all through."

"Sounds good to me."

February 13, 1983, Greater Chicagoland, Illinois

On Sunday morning, Deanna and I slept late, showered, had breakfast, and I drove her back to her dorm, then returned to the house to hang out with Bianca and Shelly.

"Two overnights?" Bianca asked. "That's serious! I told you she liked you!"

"All I can say is that we'll see where it leads, if anywhere. Which is what I say about all my relationships. And before you say it, yes, I know, if I follow your plan, I can eat my cake and have it, too!"

"I was going to say, 'Have your pussy and eat it, too'!" Bianca declared, causing Shelly and me to laugh.

"Pedantic Jonathan says that eating cake makes it disappear, but eating pussy makes it return for more!"

Both girls laughed.

"There were ten willing girls here last night!" Bianca declared.

"Eleven," I replied with a grin. "You forgot to count Deanna!"

"And she monopolized you!" Bianca declared. "The girls were disappointed."

"Remember, I wasn't even supposed to be here!"

"Next time, I'll plan to have them over when you're here."

"Of course you will! Anyway, I need to read the newspaper and do a few other things before I leave for my date with Clara."

I put on some music, read the Trib, vacuumed the throw rug in my room, washed my sheets, and finally called home to speak to my mom for our usual Sunday call. We had a good chat, I let her know that Bev had a job and was doing OK, though nothing was said about Glen, which didn't surprise me. After the call ended, I dressed, said 'goodbye' to Bianca and Shelly, and headed to Clara's house in the suburbs.

She was ready when I arrived, but I took a few minutes to chat with her dad to maintain a good relationship with him, and then we left the house.

"Where do you want to go for dinner?" I asked.

"How about Spaghetti Warehouse on Ogden in Aurora?" Clara suggested. "They have all kinds of Italian Food, not just spaghetti."

"That's fine with me!" I said, heading in that direction.

"What happened to your plans?"

"Miscommunication," I replied.

It was intentional, but that wasn't something I could reveal to Clara. Being honest and direct had to respect privacy in most cases, and this was not one that might need an exception.

"Next Saturday I was thinking I would come into the city in the morning, if that's OK."

"Yes. Are you driving?"

"I already arranged with Mom to borrow her car."

"What time?"

"How about 10:00am? That lets me have breakfast with my parents, following your advice to keep them happy."

"Given you're still in High School, that's an absolute must. The last thing you want is for your dad to have any reason at all to be suspicious."

Clara laughed, "Oh, he's suspicious, all right! I'm pretty sure he had a bunch of girlfriends in High School and college, so I'm sure he thinks all guys act the way he did!"

"I suspect you're right, and I'm surprised he's so tolerant of you seeing me."

"The 'marry her off' gene is strong with my dad! He has to take the risk that Allyson and I will fuck before we marry so he can eventually marry us off and have grandkids!"

"I'd say a certainty," I chuckled.

"You mean because I told you I wanted to fuck when I was fifteen?"

"And your enjoyment of that activity as well!"

"Duh!" Clara exclaimed. "I just wish we could do that today, but my parents are home, and so are Marie's, and there's not enough time to drive into the city and back after dinner."

"We'll have all day next Saturday," I said.

"And we're going to do it all day!" Clara declared.

"How is school?"

"Fine. I'm starting to look at colleges, but only in Chicago. There's no way I'm not seeing you for months at a time!"

"Have you decided what to study?"

"What's a good career for the wife of a stockbroker?" she asked with a smile.

"I see what you did there," I chuckled. "And any career that makes you happy is compatible, but let's not get too far ahead of ourselves. What interests you?"

"Besides you?" Clara asked impishly.

"I don't think they give degrees in 'Jonathan Kane'!"

"M-R-S!" Clara laughed. "And yes, I'm teasing, but you know what I want."

"I do. So, field of study?"

"Not medicine. I don't want to do the same thing as Allyson, and blood is not my thing! I was thinking a hard science, maybe physics, because I'm really good at math, but I haven't had physics yet. But if not that, maybe aerospace or electrical engineering."

"IIT would be a good school for any engineering discipline."

"I agree. That would be my top school if I decide on hard science or engineering; otherwise, UofC or Northwestern. It's easy to get to any of those from your house, right?"

I chuckled, "Yes, it is. And speaking of that, I bought a new house less than a mile from the house I'm renting."

"Wow! That's amazing! You aren't even twenty-one yet! When do you move?"

"I close on March 21st, and we'll do some work on the house during that week, then have a housewarming party on the 26th. You're invited, obviously."

"Cool!"

We arrived at the restaurant and were seated within ten minutes. We had a great meal, including Italian ice for dessert.

"Where to now?" I asked.

"There isn't anything showing at the theatre that I want to see," Clara replied. "And it's Sunday, so most things are closed. Let's stop by Marie's house and hang out with her."

"Do you want to stop and call?"

"No. If she's not home or there's something going on at her house, we'll just go back to my house. Marie won't mind if we drop in unexpectedly."

As Clara predicted, Marie didn't mind, and we hung out with her until I had to take Clara home. When I walked her to the door, I received a very nice kiss, and once she went inside, I walked back to the car, got in, and headed home.

February 14, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I had forgotten completely that Monday was Valentine's Day, but as I didn't have a steady girlfriend, I didn't feel the day had much significance, and there was no need to alter my plans, though work and school were both inviolable. Keiko was spending the night, but neither of us had mentioned that it was a special day, only referring to it as 'Monday night'.

I followed my usual morning routine, which included a shower, a quick breakfast, and then a drive to the Hancock Center, followed by the preparation of my usual morning analyst report. Nothing much had changed with the Bolivar, nor gold and silver prices, but all evidence pointed strongly to major changes, and others in the market were beginning to take notice. That alone was enough to push both situations towards my expected outcome, and a true dog pile would, in effect, force them.

"Hi, Jonathan!" Anna exclaimed when she came into the office. "«Trevlig alla hjärtans dag»!"

She handed me a small box of what looked like heart-shaped gumdrops.

"I'm going to guess you said the equivalent of Happy Valentine's Day?"

"Yes! And these are the traditional gift called «gelehjärtan», or jelly hearts."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome! Enjoy!"

She continued to her desk, and Tony rolled his chair over close to mine.

"Lucky dog! I'd give my left nut to go out with her!"

"And your wife would cut off your right one!" I chuckled.

"Yeah, there is that," he replied with a grimace. "I didn't know you guys were seeing each other."

"We aren't," I replied. "This was a surprise."

"Damn! If that's not an invitation, I don't know what is!"

He had a point, but my rule had to govern even hot Swedish girls, and if I wasn't going to see Haley so long as she worked at Spurgeon, I didn't see how I could ask Anna out, even if I chose to ignore my rule, which I wouldn't do.

"I suspect you're right," I said.

As if to prove the point, when I went to the break room for lunch about four hours later, Anna came to the door and handed me a Tupperware container.

"This is «kärleksmums»," she said. "It's like what you call a brownie, but with coffee-flavored icing and shredded coconut."

"What does that word mean?" I asked.

"It's not really a name, but slang, and means 'love treats'. The formal name is «mockarutor», which means 'mocha squares'."

"Thanks," I replied. "You made this yourself?"

"Yes! The hearts came from a Swedish shop in Geneva."

"I appreciate the thought," I said with a smile.

"Let me know how the cake tastes!"

"I will, thanks."

Fortunately, Haley only joined me for lunch on Tuesdays and Thursdays because I worked out on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I quickly ate my lunch, ate the cake which was absolutely delicious, then headed down to the gym for my workout. When I returned to the office, I walked over to Anna's desk and thanked her for the cake.

"It was very good," I said.

"I'm glad you liked it! I love to bake sweets for the holidays and share them with special people!"

"I appreciate it," I said.

I excused myself because I had a research project from Mr. Matheson that would take all afternoon, and as I walked back to my desk, I thought about just how sexy Anna was. I'd heard it said that every rule had exceptions, and I wondered if I might make an exception to my rule about dating someone from Spurgeon.

XI. I'm Sure I Will!

February 15, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Do you agree that every rule has an exception?" I asked as Anala and I sat down for coffee after work on Tuesday.

"I think it's better to ask if your rule is too rigid rather than if there should be exceptions. Once you make an exception, it becomes easier to make another, and another, and eventually the rule is meaningless."

"I didn't expect a 'slippery slope' argument from you!"

"I don't see it that way," Anala countered. "I'm simply making the argument that once you violate a closely held principle or rule, whatever you want to call it, it becomes easier to do in the future. Think of the debate you had with yourself about which of your ethical principles was paramount and why it was so difficult."

I nodded, "Because I knew that once I decided that it was OK to go back on my word, my word wouldn't mean anything."

"And what would happen then?"

"OK, I see your point, but it is possible to make a one-time exception for an overriding purpose."

"If you can trust yourself to evaluate the situation correctly, dispassionately analyze the situation, and make a decision consistent with your principles, or with a clearly defined exception. I think you probably could because you're dispassionate, unlike the other Ohioan I know! What's the dilemma?"

"A smoking hot Swedish blonde who works for Spurgeon."

Anala laughed, "What is it with you boys from Ohio and Swedish girls?"

"What do you mean?"

"My friend from Milford just had a week-long visit from an extremely pretty Swedish girl he met when he was an exchange student during High School."

"Well, if he chose her over you, he's an idiot!" I declared.

"As if I'm going to believe that!" Anala replied lightly.

"You're gorgeous, Anala," I said. "Black hair, beautiful brown skin, a nice figure, and extremely intelligent! I daresay I'd overlook a busload of blondes for you!"

Anala smiled, "I appreciate the thought! I believe you're thinking with your «lingam»."

"You mean because I described her as 'smoking hot'?"

"Yes. I'm going to guess she flirted with you?"

"She brought me Swedish candy and a Swedish dessert for Valentine's Day."

"And that's all it takes to throw out your rule?"

"I didn't say I threw it out; I asked about exceptions."

"Which you would only ask about if you were considering one. I think, if you're going to break that rule, you just have to give it up, because what rationale could you provide to allow this exception but not apply it to the other young woman you told me about. Do they have names?"

"Anna, who's the Swede, and Haley."

"Ask yourself this question, too -- how would Haley feel if you broke your rule after adamantly sticking to it?"

I thought about it for a moment, then nodded, "It might create the exact situation I created the rule to avoid."

"Don't you think that answers the question?"

"It does," I agreed.

"Now, if you could create a rule that wasn't specific to Anna, or 'just this once', then you could consider it, so long as whatever justification you gave would prevent the conflict you're seeking to avoid, or would allow you to date both of them, which has its own risks. How are things with the other young women you're seeing?"

"Fluid," I replied. "Nobody is pushing me too hard to be a couple, but several of the girls have dropped hints or actually expressed that desire."

"If you aren't ready, don't do that, but that means accepting the chance that they'll decide to move on rather than wait it out. What about Bev?"

"That's still a confusing mess, mostly because she's so confused."

"Do you see a future with her?"

"I have no idea," I replied. "Things have changed so much in the past two years that I no longer know her the way I did growing up."

"You're both adults, not children, and that changes things. Graduating from college or getting your first job is a transition from what amounts to a carefree world for most people into a serious one."

"My world was hardly 'carefree'," I countered.

"I understand, but what was Bev's biggest concern?"

"She didn't really have any," I said thoughtfully. "Her dad always had a good job, she had both parents, everything she needed, and many of the things she wanted."

"All provided by those parents. Now she has to care for herself and her baby."

"But there's no need for her to do it alone," I protested.

"From your perspective, and based on your experience as the child of a single mom, you believe that. Bev apparently doesn't. I'd suggest part of her growing up is doing this on her own."

"But she ran to a family in St. Louis rather than to me."

"At least partly because you ran away from her, Jonathan."

"Shit," I sighed. "But didn't you tell me she was responsible for her response to what I did?"

"Yes, of course, but that doesn't absolve you of your responsibility for your decisions. And you know that because you're still beating yourself up over not discussing Chicago with her before you made the decision. You've both hurt each other, and now you have to find a way back, which, while possible, will be difficult.

"The one thing that is impossible is for things to be the same as they were before you left home. If you're hoping for that, I am here to disabuse you of that notion because it simply cannot happen. There is no way to go back to that idyllic relationship because you are now two very different people."

"Who have hurt each other."

"Yes. So whatever future you have with Bev has to be based on the new dynamic, not the old one."

"I don't disagree, but that doesn't make it suck any less."

"No, it doesn't. Have I helped?"

"I think so," I replied.

"But you still want to go to bed with the hot Swedish girl!"

I chuckled, "Guilty as charged, but you know what I'd much rather do!"

Anala smiled, "And yet, even if I offered, you'd say 'no' for the reasons we've discussed in the past. Think about that, too, when you're considering exceptions. What would happen if we made a one-time exception?"

"I think it might be more like Lay's potato chips!"

Anala laughed softly, "Nobody can eat just one. And I suspect we'd find reasons to make an exception to the point where there wasn't a rule anymore. Think about what might happen down the road when I found the man I would marry. Are you truly dispassionate enough to simply walk away, as it were?"

"It would be fun to find out!" I chuckled, then became serious. "But I see your point, and I don't disagree with you."

We finished our coffee, and after I walked Anala to the L, I walked back to the Hancock Center to retrieve my car and head home.

"Any guests tonight?" Bianca asked.

"No. Ellie will be here tomorrow night, and Keiko again on Thursday."

"You do like your Oriental girls! Twice in one week!"

"Go on, say the next thing!" I chuckled.

"You could have all the variety you wanted if you would follow my plan!"

"Or I could just marry an Oriental girl," I countered. "But marriage is in the future."

"Dinner in ten minutes, then Shelly and I would like to take you to bed, if you're interested."

"Always!"

February 16, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"FX Desk, Kane," I said when I picked up the handset of my phone just before 10:00am on Wednesday.

"Jonathan, it's Mandy Peterson. Could you come to my office, please?"

"Sure," I replied. "Be right there."

I got up, went up to 30, and walked into the Personnel office.

"Hi," I said to Haley. "Mrs. Peterson asked me to come up."

"You can go right in," Haley said.

"Thanks."

I walked to the door of Mrs. Peterson's office and stopped.

"Good morning," I said.

"Come in, shut the door, and have a seat, please.

I did as she asked, sitting across from her.

"Is there a problem between you and Paige Jennings?"

"I believe she thinks I'm receiving special treatment and special privileges and is unhappy with my rapid advancement. Did she complain?"

"Yes, but I know her complaints are false."

"Am I allowed to know what they were?"

"Mostly, they were about favorable treatment. What she failed to acknowledge is that there are fundamental differences in your situations, including you having your securities licenses and bringing in significant new business. She blamed it on her being female."

"Mostly?"

"She also complained about a culture of sexual favors and pointed to both you and Mr. Matheson."

"Completely untrue," I said firmly. "At least with regard to me. I can't speak to Mr. Matheson."

"I understand that, and, as I said, her claims are unfounded. That said, she has threatened to hire an attorney."

And suddenly, I understood what I was doing in Mrs. Peterson's office. The ultimate question she wanted to ask, but couldn't ask directly, was what I was going to say if there was an outside investigation or, worse, a lawsuit. I knew I could allay her fears by making a clear statement that I wasn't going to turn State's evidence, as it were. While I'd report an SEC violation in a heartbeat, this wasn't that.

"Mrs. Peterson," I said, "I have no first-hand knowledge of any inappropriate behavior by anyone who is part of the FX Desk. If there's an investigation, I really do not have anything to add."

"What would you say about your relationship with Rachel Kealty?"

"That she and I worked for different managers and that it never progressed beyond being friends. Since then, I've had a firm rule about not becoming involved with anyone who works for Spurgeon. Both Haley and Anna can attest to that."

"I'm sure they will," Mrs. Peterson confirmed.

"What happens now?" I asked.

"That's up to Miss Jennings at this point."

She had painted a huge target on her back all because she felt I'd advanced too far, too fast. But, by threatening to sue, she'd also created a potential problem for Spurgeon Capital. They couldn't terminate her without extensive documentation that she wasn't doing her job, had violated some SEC rule, or breached her employment contract.

I was VERY glad I hadn't made an exception to my rule for Anna because that might have turned very ugly. But, that fortunate decision aside, I had two concerns beyond Rachel, and I felt I had to raise one of them. The other was a trickier problem.

"I do need to say something about a pair of situations of which I don't believe you're aware," I said. "The weekend we moved to this building, I spent the night with Sharon Williams. In addition, I had a brief relationship with Charlotte O'Malley. Those were both before Rachel, and it was the situation with Rachel that led me to my policy."

"Does anyone else know about those?"

"Besides Sharon and Charlotte?" I asked with a grin.

Mrs. Peterson laughed, "I like your sense of humor, but you want to be careful with that."

"Sorry. No. Nobody knows unless one of them talked."

"Then there's no need to mention either of those or Rachel unless you're asked directly."

"Understood."

"Keep this to yourself for now, and do not discuss it with anyone other than Mr. Spurgeon, Mr. Matheson, me, or Legal."

"I won't."

"Thanks, Jonathan."

"You're welcome."

I got up and wondered about the other potential problem -- the rumors which everyone knew and which I was positive were true. To me, that meant Spurgeon couldn't afford to allow an investigation, and that meant Paige was going to be paid off and required to sign an NDA. I made a silent bet with myself that would happen soon. As I passed Haley's desk, she stopped me.

"I won't join you for lunch tomorrow," she said. "It's not worth the risk."

"I agree."

"I do have good news -- I received an offer from Allen & Baker, and I've accepted."

"Does Mrs. Peterson know?"

"Yes. I told her this morning. I was going to tell you at lunch, but then this happened."

"When do you start?"

"My last day here is March 4th."

Which meant I was going to have a serious dilemma trying to balance seeing girls who wanted more than a casual relationship. Something was going to have to give between Clara, Keiko, Ellie, Deanna, and Haley, and I had no clue how to make that decision. Of course, there was always Bianca's solution, but I wasn't convinced that it was a good idea, and I certainly wasn't convinced that any of the girls I was interested in beyond sex would go for it, except Bianca. That said, I had to give Haley a fair shot, as it were.

"I assume you'll want to go out on the 4th?" I asked.

"Obviously!"

"We'll talk before then, though carefully."

"Yes," Haley agreed.

I went back to 29, and as soon as I walked through the doors of the office, Anna called me to let me know Mr. Matheson wanted to see me. I went to his office, and he motioned for me to shut the door.

"I take it you just came back from Personnel?"

"Yes."

"I made a big mistake in hiring that leftist bitch," he growled. "And now I'm stuck with her. You are not in any trouble, and I have your back."

"Thank you."

"I know you are a team player, and Mr. Spurgeon and I know you'll do what's right for the firm."

"Always," I replied. "What's going to happen?"

"Noel Spurgeon hasn't decided just yet, but she's gone as soon as we can figure out a way to do it."

"The longer she stays, the more toxic she's going to become," I observed. "Pay her off, have her sign an NDA, and move on. Call it the cost of doing business. But you have to make it worth her while. She'll take the value proposition of a big payout. Even better, call the professor who she was working for and get her old job back and pay her off. If you don't, the firm culture will change in a way you don't like."

"YOU don't like the culture here!" Mr. Matheson protested.

"It's not called Kane Capital, now is it?" I asked with a sly smile.

Mr. Matheson laughed, "No, it's not."

"Then it's not up to me to define the culture. As for liking it or not liking it, honestly, I do not care what anyone else does, so long as it doesn't affect my job. And that is why I decided not to get involved with anyone here after the situation with Rachel Kealty.

"I hear you, but if Anna was hot for me, there is no way on earth I'd turn her down."

What I wanted to say was that she had turned HIM down, but the last thing I wanted to do was cause any problems for her.

"It's about risk versus reward," I said instead.

"Your call, obviously, but I won't stand in your way. I'll be jealous as hell, of course."

"I hear you. Anything you need me to do?"

"Just keep up the good work and continue to be a team player. You'll make more money than you could possibly imagine."

"I have a pretty good imagination!" I replied.

"That's a good thing! Get back to work."

I left his office and went back to my desk. Just before noon, I went to the lunchroom to eat my lunch before I went to the gym and Anna came into the break room.

"Is it OK to eat with you?" she asked.

I couldn't really say 'no' as it was the break room for the entire team, and I had no claim to it.

"Yes, though I'll only be here about ten minutes because I go to the gym."

"You eat first?"

"Yes. It doesn't bother me, and I don't eat big meals -- a sandwich, chips, and a piece of fruit."

"How often do you exercise?"

"Three times a week. When it's nice out, I ride my bike as well."

"Do you have an exercise partner?" she asked.

I had a distinct feeling of where this was going, but Anna had been nothing but kind, so I felt the least I could do was allow her to ask the question I was sure was coming.

"No. I had the exercise physiologist in the gym create a routine for me and I simply do it on my own."

"Would you like to have a partner?"

The question I had to ask myself, well, actually two questions, were: was this the proverbial camel's nose under the tent that would be the first in a series of decisions that led to violating my rule, and how would it be viewed by others at Spurgeon. Providing grist for the rumor mill was not my idea of a good thing to do, but it was also the case that working out together was not the same thing as dating or, strangely, I thought, having lunch together.

In the end, I felt that after the candy and cake she'd given me, I couldn't refuse, and so long as I was careful, it should be OK.

"If you're interested, I wouldn't mind having someone to work out with."

"What do I need?"

"Gym shorts and a T-shirt," I replied. "You'll need to get a membership, though."

"Mr. Matheson offered it as a benefit when I joined Spurgeon, so that's taken care of."

"Then come downstairs with me and see Tim and set things up."

"Great!" she exclaimed.

We finished eating, I got my gym bag, and Anna and I went down to the gym. I introduced her to Tim and then went to the locker room to change. Anna left during my workout, which wasn't a surprise, given she didn't have gym clothes with her. When I finished, I stopped to talk to Tim.

"Girlfriend?" he asked.

"Co-worker," I replied.

"She'll be back Friday with gym clothes, and I'll give her a routine similar to yours. There are at least two machines of each type you use, so you'll be able to do your routines together; she'll just have lower weights or less resistance as men have far more upper-body strength."

"Her upper body isn't about strength, and she has FAR better legs!" I observed.

Tim looked at me for a moment, then said, "I prefer broad shoulders."

I shrugged, "You and several of my friends."

"I had the impression you were cool. See you Friday?"

"Yes."

I showered, dressed, and headed back upstairs, though I went to 30 instead of 29 and went to the Personnel office. Haley was out, but the other assistant, Jacquelyn, was there. I asked to see Mrs. Peterson and was directed to go to her office.

"Jonathan?" Mrs. Peterson said. "Is there a problem?"

"No, but I wanted to let you know that Anna Bergdahl is working out in the gym at the same time as I am."

Mrs. Peterson laughed, "There is literally no policy against relationships between colleagues. Except for Ms. Jennings, nobody is going to say anything. You're more likely to have someone object to your continued friendship with Jack Clinton, but that was pre-existing."

"We're careful to only discuss business in the office, per the fraternization rules. That said, I do need to let you know he's going to be a housemate starting in May."

"He actually came and talked to me about that. There's no problem."

"I actually should have done that," I said.

"It's technically not necessary. What happens outside the office is your business, not ours, so long as you aren't doing anything to put the firm, your licenses, or your reputation at risk."

"May I ask a question that is completely out of line?"

"Why not?" she replied with a knowing smile.

"What's your honest opinion of what goes on here?"

"Does it matter?" she asked.

"That's basically what I said to Mr. Matheson when he asked me about the fact I don't approve of the 'coke and hookers' culture. I said until the firm was 'Kane Capital', it wasn't up to me, and I mind my own business. But you're Director of Personnel."

"Fundamentally, every investment firm, every law firm, every bank, every engineering firm, and so on, has a similar culture, though perhaps not as extreme. And you may not believe it, but hospitals are worse."

"Worse how?"

"Nobody is having sex in break rooms here! And yes, that happens in hospitals, between doctors and nurses, and doctors and medical students. But coming back to Spurgeon, I have actually changed the culture, believe it or not. Think back to when you first started two years ago, and think about now. Would Anna have kept her job?"

"Probably not."

"That's my doing. And I've made other small changes, too, including helping bring in the first two female analysts and the first woman with a securities license. I'm sure you can imagine the resistance to both of those! The same is true for Naomi, the new mailroom clerk, though she's the second one."

"Pick your battles?"

"Exactly. Change comes slowly, but it does come. The courts are starting to apply the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and discrimination is being challenged. In ten years, the landscape will be different, and the kind of behavior that is accepted now won't be accepted in most places. You'll see women partners in former all-male law firms, women brokers, women surgeons, and so on. Yes, there are some now, but they're the trailblazers."

"I suspect you're right," I said. "It's the same with politics, with Mayor Byrne being the first woman to be mayor of one of the five largest US cities by population. I think there are only two US Senators who are women, and only around twenty-five members of the House are women. There is a similar under-representation of blacks. Spurgeon is about as WASP as could possibly be, with only a few exceptions, and none of them are black."

"A problem at most investment firms, law firms, and engineering firms, as well as in medicine. I've made no headway in that area, but the problem there is the candidate pool. There simply aren't enough qualified candidates. That's a problem for the politicians, as there isn't much we can do about it."

"Internships?"

"I've thought about it, but the problem is the same. The student bodies at the major universities here are disproportionally white. That's changing, but it continues to present a problem. Think, too, about how a young black man from the projects who has the necessary skills would feel coming here and how he'd be treated."

"It almost seems like an intractable problem."

Mrs. Peterson smiled, "And that, Jonathan, is the answer to your original question. I can do my best to create change, but that change is always going to be slow. Perhaps if you run your own firm one day, you'll begin with a different culture."

"If that were to happen, it would be a long way down the road."

"May I give you a piece of advice?"

"Of course."

"Learn literally everything you can because one day, unless you are very, very lucky, something will happen. The only person who has been here longer than me is Murray Matheson and the usual tenure for 'Suits', as you used to call them, is about six years. At some point, you'll either cross swords with Noel Spurgeon, or you'll lose a big investor, or you'll make a bad trade. None of those need to kill your career, but you might, at that point, choose another way forward."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Now, if I were forty years younger..."

I laughed, "Seriously?"

"Smart, handsome, and with earning potential that is in the top 5% of the country? A girl would be a fool not to consider it! That said, I have two grandchildren who are only a year younger than you! Not to mention Mr. Peterson might object strenuously."

"I'm with Mr. Peterson on that," I said.

"Me, too."

"I need to get back to work. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I returned to 29 and spent the afternoon researching mining operations in South Africa, with a focus on what would happen should the ANC actually take over the country. My evaluation was that it would eventually happen, but not in the short term, and there was no need to account for it, except from a moral standpoint, which had no bearing on what Murray Matheson would do. I did add that as a footnote to assuage my conscience about investing in companies which operated under a racist, repressive government.

At 5:00pm, I left the office and headed to Violet's house for dinner. Of all the girls I was spending time with, my relationship with her was simultaneously both the simplest and the most complex. Her past made the relationship fraught with all manner of potential problems, something that Doctor Lochner had accurately stated, though I disagreed with the way she had chosen to treat Violet.

If I could somehow wave a magic wand and resolve Violet's challenges with regard to intimacy, she'd be my first choice, but I had no such power. With Violet, I felt anything beyond the brief hugs and kisses on the cheek were an all-or-nothing proposition. In my analysis, even the most basic kiss would be a lifetime commitment. As strange as it seemed, a simple kiss with her would be a promise of a permanent relationship.

I couldn't explain why I felt that way, but the feeling was visceral. The problem, of course, was that the kiss might never lead to the kind of physical intimacy I knew I needed, and that made the kiss more fraught with meaning than actual sex with any of the other girls I'd been with. It was true that Phoebe had attached more meaning to it than I had expected, but even with her desire to be a couple, she hadn't seen sex as a pledge of a permanent relationship.

I was concerned about how Violet would handle the end of the semester when we wouldn't see each other three times a week. I felt she had grown dependent on me, and I didn't want to let her down, but I also needed time for other things, including getting together with my guy friends. Stuart and Tom had such variable shifts that I needed more flexibility to be able to get together with them, and Dustin worked most weekends.

Fortunately, I had three months to figure out a plan that would balance my concern for Violet with my many competing priorities. We had our usual enjoyable meal together, cleaned up the dishes, then headed to Circle for class.

"Sorry I haven't called," Teri said when she and Troy came into the lecture hall.

"It's OK," I replied. "What time on Monday, and what do you want to do?"

"How about we meet at Billy Goat Tavern on Lower Michigan at 11:30am, have lunch, and figure out what else to do?

"Sounds good to me."

The professor came in, so I opened my notebook and waited for him to begin the lecture. Just under two hours later, I walked Violet home from the diner where we'd had our coffee and pie and received the usual hug and kiss on the cheek. Once she was safely inside, I headed home to meet Ellie, who was spending the night.

February 17, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"I have a question," Ellie said as we showered together early on Thursday morning.

"What's that?"

"Would you be interested in a party with Kasey, Miranda, Josie, and Meg? And maybe another girl?"

"Is that what you want, or is that what you think I want?"

"Both!" Ellie declared. "You know I get off on watching, and I know you get off on having multiple girls."

"True."

"Are you considering Bianca's idea, or do you still expect to get married?"

"According to Bianca, those options aren't mutually exclusive."

"And what? A lottery for who gets to have the marriage certificate?"

"I don't think Bianca much cares about what the government or any church thinks about the arrangement."

"I don't think I could have a baby without being married if that's what she's implying."

"More than implying," I replied. "I still think a traditional marriage will work best for me, for my own reasons, not because society or some god says so. But as we discussed, that's down the road a piece."

"I know we discussed it before, but I feel like I wouldn't be your first choice. Be honest, please."

She wasn't, and if push came to shove, I'd put Keiko, Clara, Lily, and most likely Haley in front of her. Two of those were potential challenges, as both Haley and Clara were likely to push for exclusive relationships sooner rather than later, and that was something I would have to address, though I really wanted to wait to see how things developed with Bev before I gave up on her, at least with regard to being my life partner.

"Let me put it this way," I said. "I don't have a first choice in that I could name a girl who was my first choice. I like you, I enjoy being with you, the sex is great, but I don't want to mislead you. The truth is, I don't feel a spark that I think would lead to us being a couple."

Ellie nodded, "I got that drift."

"In keeping with my blunt honesty, you have to decide if you're interested in a casual relationship with no commitment or if you want to find a boyfriend. You know I don't care if you date other guys or fuck them if that's what you want. That's totally your business, so long as you're honest about it. No judgment, and you don't even have to tell me what goes on when you're not with me if you don't want to. It's the other guy or guys you have to be honest with."

"The problem is that the guys I've met at Loyola are more like guys I knew in High School than like you. I think that has to do with you being so independent and also having a full-time job and serious responsibilities."

"I can see that," I said as we got out of the shower. "May I suggest a course of action?"

"Sure," Ellie agreed as we began to dry ourselves.

"Just have fun and meet people while you're working on your degree. I don't see any reason to rush to get married, especially when you have what amounts to ultimate freedom now. I've gone over it in my mind a lot because you aren't the only one to raise the question. I think part of the question is the taboo against pre-marital sex that many people have, which means that if they stick to their morals, the only way they can fuck is if they get married. I don't agree, and you obviously don't, either."

"I know girls who are 'saving it for marriage' but who are horny as hell and have no outlet, so they want to get married as soon as possible."

"That seems silly to me. If you want to fuck, you fuck. Making a lifetime commitment just to get sex seems extreme to me. And doing that because some minion of some god said so is just silly. That said, other people can do what they want and follow whatever rules they want, so long as they don't try to force me to comply with their rules."

"You really don't care what anyone thinks, do you?" Ellie asked as we went to the bedroom to dress.

"Not really," I replied, "though I do want to be known as someone who has integrity and keeps his word."

"Two very important qualities," Ellie observed. "I know you're busy; when are you free?"

"Not in the next two weeks, unfortunately. And after that...you know what? It'll have to be after I move, I think."

"Are you trying to put me off?"

"No, it's just that I am really busy with work, school, and the new house."

"OK. Could you find time for me before then?"

"I'll try. Are you OK?"

"Yes. You've been honest from the start, and the sex is freaking awesome! And I think you believe that the future is open."

"I do, though my job is basically to predict the future."

"How so?"

"I have to predict the future value of currencies, precious metals, and commodities. That's how Spurgeon Capital makes money -- making calculated bets on future prices being higher or lower. For example, I did the analysis and concluded what was likely to happen with a specific foreign currency and with gold and silver. If I'm right, and I'm confident I am, I'll make a ton of money for Spurgeon and a decent amount for myself."

"Am I allowed to ask how much?"

"You're always allowed to ask, but I answer at my discretion. I'll answer this one because the transactions are reported publicly to the SEC and CFTC. I should personally make somewhere between $35,000 and $70,000."

"Holy crap!" Ellie exclaimed. "That's more than most people make in a year! How?"

"By doing the proper research and figuring out what's likely to happen before anyone else does, or at least before most people do."

"And you don't have a degree!"

"The key skill is analysis, which comes down to correlating large amounts of data and reaching a conclusion on which Spurgeon Capital can take action. I did have to learn how the markets work and how to interpret market signals, but, in the end, it comes down to being able to pull together disparate facts and discern how they'll affect the financial markets."

"Could you teach me? That seems like something that might be fun to do."

"As opposed to being a lawyer or joining the FBI?"

"The FBI only requires an undergraduate degree, and it can be in just about anything."

"I could teach you," I replied. "May I make a suggestion in that regard?"

"Sure."

"If you're serious about it, change to a degree in something to do with business, finance, or accounting. That would work for the FBI, right?"

"Yes."

"Then, for now, you can do what I did for a time -- set up a practice portfolio on paper and simulate trading. See how you do. In addition, read the news and learn how different things affect different financial products. If you do, and you're successful, you might have a future in the investment field. The degree will give you a backup plan."

"What's your backup plan?"

"I don't have a specific one, but anything I do would be better than where I was. If I were to fail, I would have enough experience to manage a support team, similar to my old boss, Mr. Nelson. I'd do my best to finish a degree in business part-time while I was working. I basically risked everything on this bet, but, in the end, I risked nothing, if that makes sense."

"In a weird sort of way," Ellie said thoughtfully. "So you'll teach me?"

"Yes."

"If you teach finance as half as good as you teach sex, I'm going to be great!"

"That's the spirit!"

We went downstairs for a quick breakfast, then I drove Ellie to Loyola, where she gave me a quick kiss before getting out of the car.

"What night can I see you?"

"Let me call you. I promise I'll call you soon."

"Thanks!"

She shut the door, and once she was inside the dorm, I headed for the Hancock Center. As soon as I arrived, I made a fresh pot of coffee, then sat down at my desk. I turned on the Bloomberg terminal, the IBM terminal, and my Apple and sat down to begin working on my daily analyst report. About twenty minutes later, Anna came in and stopped at my desk. She handed me something wrapped in a cloth napkin.

"Good morning!" she said. "This is a «kanelbulle», a cinnamon bun. I baked it myself!"

"Thank you," I replied.

"It's a traditional Swedish baked good, which we have with coffee. I hope you like it!"

"I'm sure I will," I replied.

The cinnamon bun was awesome, and if Anna was trying to win points, she had certainly chosen well. I still had concerns about dating anyone from Spurgeon, but I also sensed my willpower was weakening against the slow, steady pressure Anna was expertly applying.

XII. Irreconcilable Philosophical Differences

February 17, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Later on Thursday, I ate at my desk, and at 2:00pm I left for an appointment with Doctor James Darmody for a physical and to get my blood type. The physical was routine, and it actually took longer for him to take my medical history, which I basically had to do from memory, as I hadn't seen a doctor since I was born, having received my vaccines from the nurse at the Clermont County Health Department. When the exam was finished, Doctor Darmody promised that his nurse would call with the blood type on Friday afternoon. He also suggested I have a test for sexually transmitted diseases, and when I consented, as Tina had suggested, he had the nurse draw blood and said they'd call with the results.

I returned to the office with a clean bill of health and an appointment to see Doctor Darmody in a year's time. I finished my workday, then headed to Violet's for dinner, my math class, and finally, coffee and pie with Violet. As usual, I walked her home, then drove back to my house in Rogers Park. I had about ten minutes at home before Keiko arrived, and at her request, we went right up to my room.

"Have you ever been bathed?" Keiko asked.

"By my mom when I was little."

Keiko laughed softly, "I meant by a lover?"

"Showers, but not baths."

"It's a traditional Japanese ritual. Your tub is not like ones in Japan, but it would do. May I bathe you before we go to bed?"

"Yes. What can I do for you?"

"I very much like when you pleasure me with your tongue! Would you do it both before and after?"

"I'd enjoy that!"

"Then let's begin with you in the bathtub!"

February 18, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Will you give consideration to a request?" Keiko asked as we got into the shower on Friday morning.

"Yes, of course," I replied.

"Would you allow me to move into your house instead of living in the dorm? I would pay rent, obviously, and help around the house."

"Do you mean into my room?" I asked.

Keiko smiled, "That would be my preference, but I'm only asking about a room. There is one free, right?"

There were two, actually, given the master bedroom was large enough to have my computer table there, in addition to my other furniture. I also had two requests -- Deanna and Keiko -- and I was actually considering Deanna's. Agreeing to either, or both, would move me along the path Bianca suggested, though if neither of them were permanently in my bed, I'd still have options. I did, of course, have to consider how it might affect my relationships with Clara, Haley, and others, but I had at least five months to figure it out.

"There is," I replied. "Do you need to clear it with your parents?"

"I'm sure they'll say 'yes', because they treat me as an adult."

"Then I'll think about it, and I have an open mind on the idea."

"That's all I ask!" Keiko declared.

As was normal for mornings after someone slept over, we had a quick breakfast and I drove Keiko back to Loyola, then headed to the Hancock Center. My morning was normal, though I took an early lunch and went to the gym early so that I could attend the Nexis demo at the University of Chicago.

I met Johan Maus, the pre-sales engineer for Nexis, and he spent two hours showing me their system, which I felt would be a great complement to the Bloomberg system. The one thing that was missing was full access to the Wall Street Journal, but it was possible to do topic searches that returned issue numbers, which would let me find articles in the papers in the archives that I couldn't find now. The system wasn't inexpensive, but the fees were lower than what Dow Jones charged for their system, and had more publications available.

"How do we get your boss to look at this?" Johan asked when we finished the demo.

"I need to write up my analysis of the system for my boss, and if he agrees, we'll take it to Mr. Spurgeon. My boss, Mr. Matheson, usually listens to my advice and analysis."

"Could I talk to him?"

"You could call, but you'll do more harm than good, assuming he even takes your call. I think your system will be very useful, and I know how Spurgeon Capital works."

"My boss is going to insist on contacting the decision maker."

"Who will ask why you're bothering him, if he'll even take your call. Seriously, let me handle it or you'll lose the deal. If you want to have your boss call me, I'll tell him the same thing. I'll present my analysis to my boss next week and we'll take it from there. That's the only way it will work."

"I'll relay that message to my boss. Call me at the end of next week."

"OK."

We shook hands, and I left UofC to head back to the Hancock Center. Anna let me know that Mr. Matheson wanted to see me, so I went to his office.

"Shut the door," he said.

I did and stepped closer to his desk, but didn't sit, as that was the protocol.

"First, congratulations!"

"On?"

"You obviously didn't hear the news! The Venezuelan government caved and announced a devaluation of 50%. The new official exchange rate is just over 8 to 1 and it'll climb from there. I closed out our positions, as there is no need to be greedy!"

"May I make a phone call?" I asked.

"I ordered Steinem to close out that position for you. Normally I wouldn't, but we'd discussed the play, so I felt justified in doing so, and it's within the rules for internal funds, as I'm your manager."

"Thank you."

I did a quick calculation in my head, and with the severe devaluation, I'd made a shocking amount of money for my fund. If my math was correct, I'd made something on the order of half a million dollars for myself and my fund. In one trade. It was mind boggling, and more than double what I'd considered the 'extreme' possibility, as nobody had predicted a doubling of the exchange rate in one fell swoop.

"You just figured out you made well more than $400 grand on that trade, didn't you?" Mr. Matheson said with a knowing smile.

"Uh, yeah. Not all mine, of course, but mind boggling."

"Spurgeon Capital made about $80 million on that single trade. That's one of the biggest single-trade gains in firm history. You'll be comped for that, by me, personally, if not by Noel Spurgeon."

I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I now had a net worth of close to $250,000, though that was before taxes, and it wasn't completely liquid, but that didn't change the fact that in less than two years, I'd turned $800 into close to $250,000. And that didn't include the money I'd made for Jeri, Violet, and my other investors.

"Thanks," I said.

"Everyone who is successful in this business has their one big score, often early on. You make that one right call and that's your seed money. There are long odds against another call that big, but you now have enough working capital to play the game. Remember, you don't swing for the fence every time. Singles, doubles, and triples pay off just fine, and provide the steady gains you need to beat the hurdle and make more money in a year than most people make in a lifetime. You understand what I'm trying to say, right?"

"Yes," I replied. "This was a 'black swan' event, and you can't count on those occurring. Hell, my projection had a devaluation of about 10% as the target, and nobody anywhere predicted they'd do what they did. Even the most extreme projections were 25%, which I felt was possible, but highly unlikely. What Venezuela did makes sense, because it alleviates the pressure, but unless oil rebounds, the Bolivar is going to devalue further."

"Would you make another play?"

"It would make sense to set up a regular rotation of shorts of the Bolivar, but you're never going to find counterparties. Nobody is going to take that risk."

"I agree. There's no market for shorts at the moment, and nobody is buying Bolivars except at an extreme discount, which is 50% over the official exchange rate."

"To be expected."

"Exactly. On to other topics. First, how was the demo?"

"I'll write an analysis and recommendation and have it to you by Tuesday, given Monday is a US trading holiday, but the short version is that I believe it would provide significant value. Dow Jones is more limited and more expensive."

"Why?"

I smiled, "Because they can. They have exclusive access to what are called 'full-text searches' of The Wall Street Journal and they are charging the price the market will bear. It's called 'capitalism'."

"Smart ass!" Mr. Matheson replied. "Get me the analysis and we'll take it from there."

"Will do."

"The second thing -- Jennings is out as of the end of the day. We're already looking for her replacement."

"What qualifications?"

"Smart and with a knowledge of fixed income. Jennings had that because the business professor she worked for at UofC is researching the high-yield bond market, something a friend and competitor at Drexel is calling 'junk bonds'. Know anyone?"

"My circle is mostly in college or working for the city in some capacity. Smart people, and some with the right intelligence and analytical skills, but no knowledge of the bond market. Well, I know a few lawyers, too.

"Lawyers are like cockroaches, they multiply and survive, no matter what. Anyway, just for your ears, Jennings is being terminated under the terms of her probationary period, but Spurgeon is offering her a payout in exchange for a release."

"No surprise there. But I'm sure you and Mr. Spurgeon both know she could still go to the Feds."

"That won't be a problem."

He said it such that I had no doubt Noel Spurgeon had some connection to someone who could make a complaint go away, or at least allow it to be resolved quietly.

"Anything I need to do?"

"No. Tony covered both fixed income and equities before, so he'll handle it until we get someone. I can't afford for you to lose focus on currencies and precious metals. Still feel confident about your analysis?"

"What I wrote in my portfolio analysis report last Monday still holds. I'll update it Monday, but I can give you a preview if you like."

"Go on."

"The peso is continuing to strengthen as predicted, so the long position there is paying off. The spread between gold and silver spot prices and futures is even bigger, because retail purchasers are piling in. I don't see how that house of cards doesn't collapse in the next week. One of the big longs will liquidate to realize their profits and that'll cause a snowball of people trying to get out. We'll be able to close out our positions seriously in the money."

"I agree, obviously. Anyway, Personnel will call Jennings around 4:30pm."

"OK. I want to start typing up my notes from the demo before the end of the day."

"Good job, Kane. I mean that. You'll hear from Noel Spurgeon soon, I'm sure."

"Thanks."

I returned to my desk and sat down, still trying to wrap my head around what had happened. My original thoughts were that I'd make around $50,000, but I'd made close to five times that. And if the gold and silver markets did what I expected, I'd have another fifty grand on top of that. Where I'd expected to come out with between forty and seventy grand, I'd have close to a third of a million. I pushed that out of my head, brought up the word processor on my Apple, and began typing my notes.

Just before 4:00pm, a nurse from Doctor Darmody's office called to tell me that my blood type was A+, which meant it matched my mom's, and coincidentally, Heather's. I was also clear of any sexually transmitted diseases. I thanked her, and returned the handset to the cradle.

At 4:30pm, Paige's phone rang, and she got up and left the office. She didn't look upset, so I assumed she had no idea they planned to terminate her. Tony came over to my desk as soon as Paige had left the office.

"Kiss of death," he said quietly. "The 4:30pm call on Friday from Personnel never ends well."

I had to be careful not to reveal what I knew, as I didn't want to get into any trouble or be seen as anything other than a team player.

"It sounds as if you saw this coming," I said.

"Once she started in on you, I knew she was not long for the firm. Especially with your call on the Bolivar. Pretty fuckin' cool."

"You're in the main fund, right?"

"At the max, since the day I started," Tony replied. "My wife didn't like the fact that a big chunk of my paycheck was going there, but after returns of twenty-eight percent or better for each of the past four years, she's not about to bitch. Not to mention the mortgage at historical rates rather than the current 'take it up the ass' rates from banks and S&Ls. And then there are the bonuses."

"Your comment to Paige about doing her job and letting the money roll in was right on target," I said. "There are things here I don't like, but show me another place where a twenty-year-old can make the kind of money I've made in two years."

"Legally? No place. That's why I work here. The only other place to make this kind of money is drugs, and as Don Corleone said, it's a dirty business and all the politicians and judges frown on it. Some frown on securities professionals, but they're in the tiny minority."

"A friend of mine who works for Congressman Washington was bitching about the money we make and the taxes we pay, and I told her to take it up with her boss because we're following the rules and regulations Congress passed to the letter."

"Damn straight!" Tony declared. "Anyone who even sniffs around an SEC violation will find themselves out on their ass, if not in prison like Jack Gilham."

"Front-running in unmonitored accounts," I said. "He got greedy."

"I've seen it happen twice in four years," Tony said. "I know I'll see the report on Monday, but how much did you clear on your currency trade?"

"Personally, about a quarter mil."

"Holy fuck!"

"Spurgeon Capital cleared north of $80 million on that play."

"Bonuses are going to be at the top of the range this year; Paige should have kept her fucking trap shut."

Mr. Matheson came out his office and called the team to the conference room. Tony and I joined the traders Harry Foulkes and Norman Monroe, the assistant traders Kent Vandenberg and Lee Warren, and Anna in the conference room. Only Rich Chamberlain, the overnight trader, wasn't there.

"Paige Jennings is being let go," Mr. Matheson said. "She simply didn't fit in. We're looking for a new analyst with fixed income experience, so if you know anyone, let me know. Tony will cover both equities and fixed income until we hire. We aren't heavily into any government securities at the moment, so he can handle it. Jonathan will keep us abreast of currency and interest rate movements, which might affect fixed income.

"And speaking of him, we need to thank him for his analysis, which helped the FX Desk clear $80 million today when the Bolivar was devalued by a whopping 50%. Let's put that new money to good use, starting on Monday. There's $80 mil just waiting to be invested."

I received congratulations and slaps on the back from all the guys, though Anna simply smiled. I was disappointed that I hadn't been able to work out with her for the first time, but that would happen on Monday. The meeting broke up, I went back to my desk, and a minute later, Naomi came in with one of the security team to box up Paige's things. They were still working at 5:00pm when I left the office and went downstairs to meet Jack, Kristy, and Lily.

"Any inside scoop on why Paige Jennings was let go?" Jack asked, as neither Kristy nor Lily had arrived when we met in the lobby.

"She didn't appreciate the culture," I said. "Work that out for yourself."

"Left-wing female? Not sure why they hired her in the first place."

"I'm pretty sure Murray Matheson is asking himself that question. Did you hear about the Bolivar?"

"No. Why?"

"They devalued by 50%, effectively doubling the exchange rate."

"How much did you make?"

"Spurgeon capital made $80 mil, my Cincinnatus Fund made about $400 grand."

"I meant you, personally."

"About a quarter mil."

"No shit?"

"No shit."

"Dinner is totally on you!" Jack declared.

I was happy to buy dinner, but what I realized was that I could very easily fall into the trap of everything being about money. In fact, the reports that were published by Spurgeon not only made it all about money, but were intended to create competition to be the biggest earner. That was fine, so far as it went, but I didn't want it to define me outside of work, or even inside, though I couldn't do much about that.

"I think I can afford that," I replied with a smile, "but please don't share those numbers."

"Mum's the word," Jack replied. "If I didn't have a reason to study all that material before, I sure do now."

"Hi!" Lily said, coming up to us.

She and I exchanged a quick hug and kiss, and a minute later, Kristy walked in.

"What are we doing tonight?" Lily asked.

"Dinner at Star of Siam?" Kristy suggested. "Then we could see Lovesick, or there's a jazz concert at Loyola."

"What's the movie about?" Lily asked.

"A psychiatrist falls in love with a patient and is visited and given advice by the ghost of Sigmund Freud. It stars Dudley Moore, Elizabeth McGovern, and Alec Guinness, who played Obi-Wan in Star Wars."

"Sounds good to me," Lily said. "Jonathan?"

"I'm game if Jack is," I replied.

"Oh sure, put it all on me!" he chuckled. "Sure, why not!"

We had a great dinner, and I covered the bill, which led to a question from Kristy.

"I made a very successful trade," I replied. "Jack decided I could afford dinner for everyone."

"How successful?" she asked.

"Very," I replied.

Kristy cocked her head, then nodded, and let it drop. When we left Star of Siam, we headed to Oberweis for ice cream, then to the theatre to see the movie, which we all enjoyed. After the movie, Jack and Kristy took the L while Lily and I walked back to the Hancock Center to retrieve my car.

"Was there a reason you didn't want to answer Kristy's question?" Lily asked once we were out of earshot of Jack and Kristy.

"I don't want people to treat me differently because I suddenly have money," I said. "I don't want that to define me the way it does most of the guys at Spurgeon. It's the only measure of success at Spurgeon, and the more I think about it, the less I want to be defined that way. I want to have a normal life with normal friends and a normal family."

"You're worried about gold-digging, aren't you?"

"I guess, at least to a point," I replied. "A couple of girls have said things which sounded like that, and while I didn't think about it at the time, when Jack suggested I pay for dinner, it hit me."

"He knows?"

"Yes, but it'll be published in the internal reports, so not telling him wouldn't have changed anything."

"You know that's not me, right?" Lily asked. "I don't care about that. OK, I mean, yes, it would be nice, but you know I liked you when you were just working in the mailroom."

"Not 'just'," I said. "Every job has value, and I was proud to do that job and I'll never be embarrassed to say that's where I started."

"Sorry," Lily said. "You're right, of course."

"And I know what you said before is true, given how our relationship has developed."

"Just out of curiosity..." Lily said with a smile.

"Very," I chuckled.

"So, Jonathan's size verses the average guy's size?"

I laughed, "I have never compared."

"In health class and in Cosmo they said the average size was between five and six inches, and you're WAY bigger than that. And I can speak from experience, too!"

"Does size really matter?" I asked.

"An interesting question," Lily said. "You know I have better orgasms from your tongue than from screwing, and it's not because I don't enjoy screwing, it's just I need direct stimulation. So, I think in my case, no, though maybe it does for you, in a negative way."

"How so?"

"I can't get you completely into my mouth!"

I laughed, "Trust me, I will NEVER complain about ANY girl who is willing to let me cum in her mouth!"

"Because you're smart! And you want blowjobs!"

"Who doesn't?" I asked.

"I've yet to meet that guy, that's for sure!" Lily said, laughing. "Can we walk faster so we have more time for orgasms from each other's mouths?"

"Yes!"

February 19, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Because Clara was visiting, I was up early on Saturday morning, despite having taken Lily home just after midnight. I did my laundry, did the grocery shopping, and stopped at the dry cleaner. Bianca and Shelly had been out late, so they slept in, and I was finished with everything before they got out of bed.

"I talked to my dad about the wood floors," Shelly said when I arrived home. "He explained in detail how to strip, sand, and stain them. I have a list of everything we need, and he offered to show up the first day to make sure we're doing it right."

"That's great," I replied. "Tell him 'yes'. I know how to paint, but I've never done floors. We had carpeting in my mom's house, and so did Bev. Put the list on the fridge with one of the magnets, and I'll make sure we get all the materials before I close."

"What about ordering the appliances?" Bianca asked.

"We'll do that on Saturday, March 13th. Jack strongly suggested Abt."

"They're a Chicago institution," Bianca said. "What about the new boiler?"

"They have until March 4th to complete that," I replied. "I do have something about the house to discuss. Let me put away the groceries and my dry cleaning."

I did those things, returned downstairs, poured a cup of coffee, then joined the girls in the front room.

"I've had two different girls ask to move into the house," I said.

"My master plan is coming to fruition!" Bianca said in a sinister voice, rubbing her hands in glee, causing both Shelly and me to laugh.

"Who?" Shelly asked

"Deanna and Keiko," I replied. "Well, and it's clear Clara wants to move in when she graduates from High School, but that's fifteen months from now."

"Move in as in rent rooms or move in as in live with you?" Bianca asked.

"Clara would want to live with me, and both Deanna and Keiko would be happy to move in with me, but both acknowledged my preference for not being serious with anyone in the near term. Deanna wondered about a combination studio and bedroom, and the loft bedroom would actually work for that. I could put the computer in the master bedroom, because there's plenty of room."

"Those two, plus us, plus Jack and Kristy, would fill all the bedrooms," Shelly observed.

"And reduce everyone's rent. Basically at $150 per month per room, the mortgage is mostly covered."

"Wait! $75 a month each?" Shelly asked. "My parents will love you!"

"I don't feel a need to make a profit from my friends," I replied. "Utilities, groceries, and food will be split the same as now, though, with Jack and Kristy, divided by five instead of three. And by seven, if I were to rent both other rooms."

"That's a heck of a lot cheaper than the dorms," Bianca observed. "How seriously are you thinking about it?"

"I promised to give it proper consideration," I replied. "Obviously, there's a significant difference between what amounts to renting rooms..."

"You mean a harem," Bianca interrupted playfully.

I chuckled, "You just won't let that go!"

"Both because it's fun to tease you, and it furthers my goal! I'm not saying it will ever happen, but every time you don't say 'no' with finality, it remains possible. If they aren't sharing your room, you still have your freedom, and aren't making any commitments."

"Sure, though I can see it affecting others," I replied. "I do need to do one more thing before Clara arrives, which is going to be very soon."

"May I make a comment about that?" Shelly inquired.

"Yes, of course."

"Clara is too young to make the decision she's making, if I understand correctly. Sure, she's seventeen, and only three years younger than you, but she has another full year of High School, and has almost no experience in the real world. That's not the kind of girl you want to make a commitment to, and if she moves in, that's what you'd be doing."

"I agree with Shelly," Bianca said, "though you know I'm biased because of self-interest. You could end up in a relationship that isn't right for you, and breaking up with someone who is living with you -- and I don't mean renting a room -- would be ugly."

"I still think you and Violet are going to end up together," Shelly said, "so it makes no sense to invite someone to live with you."

I nodded, "I know you do, and as I've said, that situation is complicated, and I can't really discuss it."

The doorbell rang, and I turned, but Bianca put her hand on my arm.

"Until you sort out your relationship with Bev, and foreclose any future with Violet, you can't even consider having a live-in girlfriend, or even being exclusive with someone."

She had a point, and that was going to lead to some potentially uncomfortable conversations, as I didn't feel Haley or Clara would accept a 'wait and see' situation for very long. I honestly felt the chasm that had developed between Bev and me was such that we couldn't cross it, but I wasn't one to give up that easily on the girl who had been my best friend since I was a toddler, even if the last few months had been rough.

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, then went to the front door to greet Clara.

"Hi!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around me, and giving me a tight hug, then turning her head up for a kiss.

I kissed her, shut the door, then helped her take off her coat, which I hung in the closet.

"What's your plan for today?" I asked.

"I told you last Sunday! We're going to spend the day in bed! Well, except for eating."

"So that's all I'm good for?" I asked with a silly smile.

"No, but you are good for that!" Clara declared. "And there is no way you're going to say 'no' to a girl who will literally do anything you want and who has the tightest, wettest, most pleasurable pussy on the planet!"

"You do have a very high opinion of yourself!"

"If I don't think I'm amazing, why would you?"

"A good point."

"How about you take me upstairs and we test my claim? Repeatedly?"

Fifteen minutes later, I was buried inside that ultra-tight pussy as Clara gently rode me, ultimately having three orgasms before I had mine.

"Can we talk about something?" Clara asked when she stretched out on top of me afterwards, with me still inside her.

"What?" I asked.

"Monday was Valentine's Day."

"I didn't even realize it until that morning," I said. "It was never a day that meant anything growing up and I didn't give it a thought until I read a news article that mentioned it early on Monday. Are you upset?"

"Disappointed," Clara said. "I thought you would have at least called."

"I know this is going to sound defensive," I said, "but I was at work, then went to class, and by the time I was home, it was pretty late. And, honestly, again, by the end of the day, it had slipped my mind. I'm not really well-versed about romantic gestures, and to be honest, I'm not ever likely to be very romantic, if I am at all."

"So it's just about sex?" she asked.

"No, that's not what I'm trying to say. I'm saying that I'm analytical, logical, and practical, and I get along best with people who are the same. I never dated before I moved to Chicago. There was a girl I hung out with who was my best friend who eventually became my girlfriend, but we never dated the way you and I are dating. And she wasn't into those gestures I think you want, so I not only have no practical experience with them, I don't even know them. Honestly, I never once in my life gave anyone a Valentine's Day card, and Bev and I didn't even give each other birthday cards. Those came from my mom or Bev's parents."

What I didn't say was that was mostly because cards were a frivolous expense for my mom and me, and the card she gave me with whatever small gift she'd purchased was usually hand written on a blank card. Spending money on something utterly impractical like a Valentine's Day card didn't even register on my radar until I'd come to Chicago.

"So, like, you never tell someone you love them?" Clara asked.

"I have," I replied. "My mom, of course, and Bev, but I was never in love with Bev, I just loved her, if that makes sense."

"Not really," Clara replied. "I mean, I just love my parents, but it's different."

"And that's the point I'm trying to make about being romantic," I said. "I don't see the difference. It's not a difference of quality or quantity or whatever, but of actions. My love for Bev was expressed differently from my love for my mom, but there were some common things about it. It's the same with my love for my friends."

"So if you say 'I love you', you don't really mean it?"

I wasn't getting through to her and I wasn't sure how to do it. When I spoke with Anala, we both just understood, and that called to mind what Shelly had said before about Clara lacking experience in the 'real world'.

"I do, but it's not based on how I feel about someone at any given moment, but about an overall desire to be around them, to care about what happens to them, and to help them in whatever way I can. It's not about emotions, but about the relationship, if that makes sense."

"It doesn't, really," Clara said.

"I'm not sure I can explain any better."

"Are you trying to discourage me because you don't want to be my boyfriend?"

"It's not that simple," I replied. "I think the bottom line is that we're not communicating on a very important topic, and if you're expecting me to behave like other boyfriends you've had, or your friends' boyfriends, you're going to be constantly disappointed and there will be serious tension that I don't believe we can overcome because we appear to have very different outlooks on life."

"Why does it have to be logical?" Clara asked.

"It doesn't have to be," I replied. "But for me it is, and if you are counting on that changing, you're going to be disappointed."

"I think you just want to break up with me," Clara said.

That hadn't been my intent, but after the conversation we'd just had, I thought it was probably best if we did.

"That wasn't my intent," I said, "but we're not on the same page philosophically, and we'd have to be before we could ever be a couple."

Clara sat up, lifted off, and got out of bed.

"I'm going to take a shower and go home," she said. "It's obvious you don't want me to be your girlfriend."

There was really nothing to say, because anything I said would run headlong into her very different philosophy.

"OK," I said.

I waited for Clara to finish, then got into the shower while she dressed. Despite being quick, she was gone when I went into the bedroom to dress. I put on sweatpants and a rugby shirt, then checked the sheets and decided they didn't need to be changed. I pulled up the comforter, then went downstairs.

"What happened?" Bianca asked.

"Irreconcilable philosophical differences. I think she was upset I didn't give her a Valentine's Day card or call her."

"Oops," Shelly said.

"No," Bianca said, shaking her head, "That's just Jonathan. He's never going to be romantic."

"What was said earlier about real world experience was right on target," I said. "I think at this point, graduating High School is a hard limit, not just being legal."

"What about Esme?" Bianca asked.

"I'll make an exception for her," I replied. "She's shown she's mature enough, and she's not expecting anything from me. But no more new girls who haven't graduated."

"That makes sense," Shelly agreed. "Bianca and I may have been a bit naïve, but I think you'd agree we were mature."

"Yes, I do."

"Jonathan," Bianca said, "did Keiko say anything about Valentine's Day?"

"No, she didn't. Actually, nobody did except Anna, our team secretary, did. She brought me Swedish candy and a Swedish brownie."

"Does Anna know you don't date people from work?"

"We discussed it, but I think she's hoping that either I'm not serious or that I'll make an exception. She decided to start working out at the gym with me, too."

"What about the other girl, Haley?" Shelly asked.

"She found a job with a path to advance her career and her last day at Spurgeon is March 4th. She'll go out with Jack, Kristy, and me that evening, and we'll see where things go."

"I guess you have no plans for the rest of the day, then," Bianca observed.

"I don't. What were you guys doing today?"

"Pizza and a movie, same as last weekend," Bianca said. "And the same girls -- Sally, Lucy, Sylvia, Julianne, Kasey, Miranda, Juliette, and Izzy. Join us?"

"It's unlikely I'll get a call from Deanna or anyone else today, so sure."

"There was an article in the Trib about Venezuela devaluing their currency," Bianca said. "I assume that means you hit the jackpot?"

"Yesterday was a very good day," I replied. "Let's avoid that topic with anyone else, please."

"Of course," Bianca agreed. "I'd never share anything unless you said it was OK."

"Except about my prowess!" I chuckled.

"You put on a public display!" Bianca declared. "And Shelly and I both were deflowered with an audience!"

"You put on a show, Bianca!" Shelly replied.

"I learned a lot that day!" Bianca replied. "Most importantly, that I really like watching and being watched. Talk about erotic! And then I discovered I like girls, too!"

"Shelly, can I ask about that?" I inquired.

"I can't explain it, really," she replied. "For some reason, it just seems right to be with Bianca and you, but you know what I want long term."

"You can have the piece of paper, Shel!" Bianca declared.

"I think you have to convince Jonathan before I could even consider it," Shelly said with a smile. "What we're doing now seems right, but long term, I honestly think I need a traditional relationship. And Jonathan believes the same way."

"Provisionally," I replied. "That would be what I'd choose now, but in two or three years, who knows?"

"When will you decide about Deanna and Keiko?" Bianca asked.

"They need to know in July so they can cancel their contracts for dorm rooms," I replied.

"Not to be crass," Bianca said, "but one impediment walked out the door about twenty minutes ago. I think you just tell the girls who are looking for a relationship straight up that's not going to happen, and spend the next few years fucking as many co-eds as you can handle!"

"Which does work to your advantage," I replied.

"And yours! Seriously, if Keiko and Deanna are cool with moving in, will fuck you, and won't complain about other girls, what argues against saying 'yes'?"

"Both of them are interested in a relationship," I said.

"So?" Bianca asked. "I was, if you recall, and I still am. You were straight with me about the situation, rejected my original offer, but then I came up with a new one which has worked very well. If they've asked to move in without any commitment, then they've accepted it, too."

"And you're not afraid of the competition?" I asked.

"Not at all. If the two of us are going to be together, it'll be because you find a girl who will accept a three-way relationship long term. If Shelly would, I would, and I suspect you would, too."

"This has worked out very well," I replied. "And I'm not just talking about sex."

"It has," Bianca agreed. "And speaking of sex, would you like to take us to bed before lunch?"

"I absolutely would!"

XIII. Bev Newton and Mark Knopf

February 19, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"I suppose we should have lunch," Bianca sighed as she and Shelly snuggled close after they'd each had a turn with me.

"The bed is warm and comfy," Shelly whined sleepily. "And I'm enjoying snuggle time! Ten minutes more?"

"Fine with me," I said.

"Yes," Bianca purred. "It's not as if I don't like this!"

Lying in bed with the brown-skinned, black-haired Bianca and the very light-skinned, strawberry blonde Shelly, both of whom were drop-dead gorgeous, was extremely enjoyable, though not as enjoyable as what we'd done before what Shelly called 'snuggle time'. A future with them, when the time was right, would be interesting and fun, if unconventional. I couldn't help but laugh at what the guys at Spurgeon might say if I did decide to do what Bianca had suggested.

"What are you laughing at?" Bianca asked.

"The thought of the reaction of the guys at Spurgeon to this as a permanent thing."

"I bet you anything you care to wager that none of them have as much college pussy available as you do!"

I chuckled, "Maybe, though there are rumors about some of the guys and the prodigious number of women they've been with. Beth said the easiest way to get laid on a regular basis is to whip out the Amex card and put it on the bar. Supposedly, it's a chick magnet, and every guy at Spurgeon has an Amex card."

"That's not your best asset!" Bianca teased.

Shelly and I both laughed.

"I think if he puts that on the bar, he'll be arrested!" Shelly exclaimed.

"People just have NO sense of humor!" Bianca declared.

We stayed in bed for another ten minutes, then showered, dressed, and went downstairs. We put on music, and I read the latest edition of Crain's as well as Friday's Journal. The girls arrived just after 5:00pm, including Lucy and Sylvia, who I hadn't spoken to for six months.

"Hey, Stranger!" Lucy exclaimed, then both of them hugged me.

"How's pre-med?" I asked Lucy.

"Almost done! I was accepted at Northwestern for medical school. I start in August."

"Very cool! And nursing school, Sylvia?"

"I'm doing my final practical rotations, and I'll be full-time at the University of Chicago hospital in September."

"That's awesome!" I said.

"How is work?" Lucy asked. "I heard you were promoted."

"I'm an analyst now."

"Congrats!" Lucy exclaimed. "And this is our new friend, Izzy."

A pretty girl with long, black hair who looked Mediterranean stepped over.

"Hi," I said. "Welcome!"

"Hi!" she said. "Nice to meet you!"

"Let's decide on the pizza so we can order," Bianca suggested.

It took five minutes to sort out the order, which actually wasn't bad for eleven people with varying tastes. Bianca called in the order, and then the real challenge began -- what movie to rent? I chose to leave it to the girls, as I'd be easily outvoted on any choice, and I fully expected a romantic comedy or something similar.

"We should rent American Gigolo!" Julianne declared. "And as Jonathan isn't seeing Huifen, maybe we can follow my suggested plan!"

"What plan was that?" Lucy asked.

"Jonathan's Stud Service! We charge girls $50, make a ton of money, and Jonathan gets all the pussy he can handle and then some!"

"Bianca's idea included HER being a pimp or madam or whatever," I chuckled. "And keeping most of the money!"

"That is how it works," Sylvia declared. "Except for the really high-priced escorts, the pimp basically makes all the money."

"Julian was a very high-priced escort in the movie," Juliette observed. "And he certainly kept a lot of the money, as evidenced by his lifestyle."

"Is the movie available to rent?" Bianca asked. "I don't remember seeing it at the video store."

"My friend Jeri has it," I said. "But I know she has access to movies that aren't generally available, but I'm not sure how."

"I bet it's screening copies," Juliette said. "They send them to the members of the Academy to watch so they can vote on the awards. Videotape made it a whole lot easier because they don't have to set up special screenings in theatres."

"Well, either way, I'd be VERY happy to take advantage of Jonathan's Stud Service!" Julianne declared.

The other girls all laughed except for Izzy, who looked confused, which indicated to me that she wasn't aware of the situation.

"We've all been with Jonathan at some point," Lucy said to Izzy. "All of us."

"No way!" Izzy exclaimed.

"Better, we've all been with Jonathan in front of other girls!" Julianne added with a smirk. "And I know for three of us, including me, it was our first time!"

"Whoa!" Izzy exclaimed. "You seriously lost your virginity with others watching?"

"Me, too!" Bianca declared.

"You showed off!" Lucy exclaimed. "I called it 'performance art'!"

"Me, too," Shelly added.

"You guys aren't pulling my leg, are you?" Izzy asked.

"It actually happened," Sylvia confirmed. "We're not pulling your leg. One of our friends, who isn't here, set up a game, and it ended with all of us fucking Jonathan and Bianca and Shelly both losing their virginity, all in front of each other. There was a second game, and while I didn't know it then, I know from what she just said Julianne lost hers that time."

"Me, too, but a different group," Juliette added.

"And me," Kasey said, but some time after that.

"And me," Miranda added, "the same day as Kasey and Juliette!"

"I don't believe it!" Izzy protested.

"It's true," Bianca offered. "Except for Sally, Lucy, and Sylvia, all of us lost our virginity to Jonathan in front of other girls!"

"He's really good, too," Sally added. "I mean really good!"

"We could skip the movie and play!" Julianne suggested.

"No pressure," I cautioned.

"We could combine movies and sex!" Juliette declared. "The video store rents cameras!"

"That might be going a bit too far," I counseled. "Could you imagine if a tape like that got out?"

"I bet we could make a fortune!" Juliette exclaimed. "Kind of like Julianne's plan! We could even all wear those masks they wear at masquerade balls to hide who we were! Jonathan and the Co-eds!"

"And, then," Lucy added with a smirk, "Jonathan and the Co-eds II, then III, and so on!"

"Jonathan thinks recording ourselves having sex, even with masks, is a bad idea," I said. "And he thinks the police would frown on Jonathan's Stud Service!"

"Only because they'd be jealous!" Julianne declared.

"I can't do anything illegal," I replied. "It could cost me my securities licenses."

"You're a stockbroker?" Izzy asked.

"I'm an analyst," I replied. "But I have my licenses. The difference is that my main job is research, not actual trading."

"What degree do you have?" Izzy asked.

"I don't. I'm taking classes part-time at Circle, but the only real requirement for my job is strong analytical skills. I did have to learn how the currency, precious metals, and commodity markets work and the rules for trading and advising clients, but those aren't difficult. It's knowing when to buy and sell, which I determine by analysis."

"But don't you need to understand statistics?"

"That would help, yes, but most of what I need to do my job is provided in chart or tabular form. I use computers to do some analysis, but most of it is simply logical thinking and being able to correlate data from many different sources into a coherent trading strategy. What's your major?"

"Finance," she replied. "I intend to get an MBA or a Master's in Public Administration."

"Buzz kill!" Juliette declared.

"Give the girl a chance to get to know him before she decides!" Julianne suggested.

"Sally, Kasey, and Sylvia let's go to the video store," Bianca suggested. "We'll pick something, and if we don't watch it, it's no big deal because our membership includes five videos a month, and we've only rented three this month. And even then, it's only $1.99 for the next three after five."

"Jonathan, do you have cable TV?" Miranda asked after those four left for the video store.

"No. I don't watch enough TV for that to matter. We are getting cable at the office because having CNN Headline News, which used to be CNN2, will be extremely useful in getting breaking news as well as the Financial News Network."

"We have it, and HBO is awesome," Miranda declared. "There are movies on that aren't available on tape, plus some great comedy shows."

"I'll look into it for the new house," I said.

"New house?" Kasey asked.

"I bought a house, and we close in about three weeks."

"WOW!" Sally exclaimed. "You're the same age as the rest of us! Well, give or take a year."

"The American Dream is not dead," I replied. "It is possible to go from rags to riches, but you have to make your opportunity, not wait for it to be handed to you."

"You aren't the son of someone who works there?" Izzy asked.

"No. My uncle, who is in real estate, got me a job in the mailroom, and I worked my way up to supervisor. While I was working, I studied for and earned my securities license, then was offered an analyst position. Well, I asked for each of those things and made it clear that's what I wanted and was working towards, and my hard work and aggressiveness paid off."

"Where are you from?"

"Goshen, Ohio. I'm the son of a single mom who never knew his dad. My uncle is friends with Noel Spurgeon, who runs Spurgeon Capital, and asked him to hire me as a mailroom clerk."

"That sounds like Andrew Carnegie," Izzy observed.

"Exactly," I agreed. "He was the son of a weaver and started working as a telegraph messenger. J. D. Rockefeller was the son of a lumberman and started as a bookkeeper at a small company. I'm not anywhere near them and probably never will be, but it's proof you can do it. You just need the will and a foot in some door somewhere. And from their stories and what's happened with me, you can start anywhere. That's not to say I don't see the value in a college degree because I do; that simply wasn't in the cards for me."

"I should have asked right away, but can I get anyone something to drink?" Shelly inquired. "We have Coke, Sprite, Orange Crush, and Dr Pepper, a pitcher of lemonade, and a fresh pot of coffee. And we should set out plates and stuff on the dining room table because the pizza will be here in about twenty minutes."

Everyone got something to drink, and Shelly and I set out plates, flatware, and napkins. When we finished, we headed back to the front room, and Sally asked to speak privately.

"What's up?"

"I'm not seeing anyone seriously," she said. "And it's not clear how this evening is going to go, but I'm sure Julianne will ask to spend the night with you. If we don't end up playing games, I'd be very happy to dance with you later!"

I recalled her offer when we'd danced at Allyson's party and what had happened afterwards. Sally had, as guys at work said, legs that went 'all the way up' and kept in great shape playing volleyball.

"Lying down with your legs wrapped around me?" I asked with a smile.

"You are really good!"

"And so are you! Let's see how things go, but I'd very much enjoy taking you up on your offer."

Sally smiled, gave me a quick kiss, and we went back to the great room.

"Arranging to have your brains fucked out?" Julianne asked.

Sally laughed, "Of course! I don't want to miss out if we don't play!"

"What games?" Izzy asked.

"Strip 'Spin the Bottle' the first time," Shelly said. "Then basically a contest where we took turns doing stuff with Jonathan and the winner of the last round got to spend the night with him, and then what we called 'baseball' where we follow the bases. In all the games, all the girls had sex with Jonathan, though the winner of the second game chose to collect her prize in private."

"I don't think there were any losers in any of those games!" Lucy declared.

"Not Jonathan, that's for sure!" Juliette declared. "What do you say, Izzy? Want to join our club?"

"I don't know," she replied.

"No pressure, Juliette," I cautioned.

"No pressure," Juliette replied. "I'm sure you'll entertain any of us who ask, in addition to Sally."

"Lucy, could I talk to you?" Izzy asked.

Lucy nodded, and they left the room.

"I think she's going to go for it," Juliette said quietly. "I could tell by the look in her eyes."

"Only if everyone agrees," I replied. "And nobody has a steady boyfriend."

"Isn't it up to each girl to decide how other relationships inform her decision?" Juliette asked.

"Absolutely," I agreed. "Anyone is free to do as they please, but I don't want to help someone cheat. Obviously, I have to take their word for it if I don't know for sure, but I'd be pretty upset if someone lied about that."

"Jonathan doesn't think you're a possession if that's what concerns you," Shelly said. "He just expects everyone to keep their word and keep their commitments. And if you show you can't or won't, then he won't trust you."

"How does trust figure in?" Juliette asked.

"That you're really on the Pill," Sylvia said. "And that you won't bite off his dick if he puts it in your mouth!"

"Who'd want to get pregnant at our age?" Juliette asked.

"You'd be surprised," Sylvia said. "But it can also be that you don't want to use a rubber, so you lie and take the risk."

"Only if you're an idiot!" Juliette retorted.

"Teenage girls are not known for using their heads when boys are involved!" Sylvia replied.

"And teenage boys think with the wrong head where teenage girls are involved!" Juliette declared.

"Not just teenage boys," I chuckled. "I have had one or two illogical or irrational ideas caused by a desire to have sex! And not just boys, because my mom had sex at sixteen without using protection, and I was the result."

"She wouldn't have had access to the Pill back then," Sylvia said. "But it's also the case that some herbal supplements can interfere with the Pill, and so can antibiotics."

"That's how my friend Bev ended up pregnant," I said. "She had a UTI and took antibiotics."

"WHOA!" Kasey gasped. "Nobody warned me about that! I was taking them in November when I was with Jonathan!"

"I don't know the exact mechanism," Sylvia said. "It was something mentioned in my classwork."

"What kind of nurse are you going to be?" Shelly asked.

"OB/GYN," Sylvia said. "I'll work in maternity at UofC."

Lucy and Izzy came back into the room just then but didn't say anything, and thankfully, Juliette didn't press.

"What's everyone doing for Spring Break?" Miranda asked.

"Renovation of the new house," I replied. "We need to strip, sand, and stain the wood floors, paint the walls, and have new appliances delivered."

"I'm helping, and so is Bianca," Shelly said. "And we'll take more help if anyone is around."

"Florida, of course!" Sally declared. "Daytona Beach!"

"I'm working," Sylvia said. "There's no break in our clinical training!"

"Florida for me, too," Kasey said. "But Orlando."

"I'm not doing anything," Miranda said. "I'll be around and can help."

"Just home for the week," Julianne said.

"Same here," Lucy said.

"Visiting a friend in San Diego," Juliette added.

"Just going home," Izzy said.

"Where's home?" I asked.

"Glen Cove, in Nassau County, New York, which borders on Queens, so just outside New York City."

"What does your dad do?"

"He's an architect. What about yours?"

"He was a salesman but died before I was born."

"Oh, wow!"

"It gets even more 'wow'," Shelly said. "He died in a plane that crashed after a bomb exploded on board!"

"No way!" Izzy protested.

"It's true," I said. "We verified it with someone who works for the FAA. Some guy was trying to collect insurance for his wife and kids, so he set off a bomb in the plane."

"That's crazy!"

"Pretty much. Mom held different jobs, but now she's the main secretary at the High School back home."

The doorbell rang, signifying the pizza had arrived, so Shelly and I went to the door to get it. Shelly paid from money she'd collected from the girls while they were deciding on what to order, and I added an additional $10 tip. We carried the pizzas to the dining room, and as we were opening the boxes, the girls returned from the video store. Everyone got drinks, then slices of pizza.

"What movie did you decide on?" Miranda asked.

"Well," Bianca smirked, "it was a tough decision between Debbie Does Dallas, Insatiable, and The Opening of Misty Beethoven!"

"In Paula's memory?" Lucy asked.

"She did know her porn," I observed. "But I know Bianca well enough that she's teasing."

"I am, though we did check out the movies in the back room. I thought about Caligula, but decided we should go with something from the regular collection."

"Caligula?" I asked. "The Roman emperor?"

"It's a mainstream film about the emperor with hardcore scenes," Lucy said. "What did you get?"

"Little Darlings," Bianca replied.

"Of course you did!" Juliette smirked. "A contest between two girls to see who can lose her virginity first at Summer camp!"

"Which is why it received an 'R' rating," Lucy said. "God forbid teenagers see a movie about teenagers doing what teenagers have done forever! I'm pretty sure it has no nudity and no sex."

"We'll just have to make our own live-action!" Juliette exclaimed.

"There are ten of us," Sylvia said, "and while Jonathan is great, he is limited physiologically!"

"We can use the competition format," Julianne suggested. "Take turns blowing him for five minutes, and the three girls who get him off get to fuck him. I think that would still let Sally have her romp."

"I have a better idea," Juliette said. "Sixty-nine instead of just blowing him! That way, we get off even if we don't win!"

"One suggestion," Bianca interjected. "If Izzy does agree to play, she should join the club before we play."

"Remember, everyone has to agree," I said. "And if anyone doesn't want to, we'll finish our pizza, watch the movie, and then what happens is up to whoever decides to hang out after the movie. If that means I need to drive anyone back to Loyola, I will."

"Why so cautious?" Juliette asked.

"He was like that when I met him," Julianne said. "He felt the girls were pressuring me and was adamant that I decide on my own. He offered to meet me later, outside the game, if I didn't want to go through with it in public."

"I wondered about that," Lucy said. "Paula would have been pissed, but Jonathan is a good guy. Nobody will be upset if you decide not to, Izzy. Sally, Julianne, and Juliette will get what they want either way!"

"DAMN STRAIGHT!" Julianne declared. "Bianca, in your plan, does Izzy play, too?"

"Sure!" Bianca declared. "She might get a second chance!"

I decided to reduce the pressure a bit.

"Let's finish our pizza, watch the movie, and then decide what to do. That way, it doesn't mess up the evening for anyone who elects not to play."

None of the girls objected, so we finished eating, put the few slices that were left in the fridge, then gathered in the great room to watch the movie. When I sat down on the couch, Miranda and Kasey quickly sat down next to me and snuggled close. I put my arms around them as Bianca started the tape.

"A hundred bucks?" Julianne said about the wager as to who would lose their virginity first. "That's a cheap bet!"

"At fifteen," I said, "a hundred bucks was enough for my mom and me to eat for a month, with a little money left over. It's all relative. I bet most of you have more money in your purses than I ever had in my possession before I came to Chicago, except for the one place that paid cash, but that went straight to my mom, except for the five or ten bucks that went into my saving account."

"Well, my plan would make us big bucks!" she declared.

"And get us arrested!" I replied.

"Shush!" Kasey declared. "We're watching the movie!"

The movie was pretty good, though in the twist ending, the girl who had lost her virginity didn't admit it, and the girl who hadn't said that she had. The rivalry between the two was resolved, and they did save the job of a counselor who had been accused of having sex with one of the girls.

"What do you all think about Ferris going after an older guy?" Julianne asked when the movie finished.

"I think it all depends on the situation," Lucy said. "I did, and it was awesome!"

"How old were you?" Juliette asked.

"Fourteen and he was in his later thirties. And I went after him!"

"At fourteen?"

"Some people here know the story, but the short version was he was mowing his lawn in just shorts and had a nice body with a great tan. He caught me staring and asked if I wanted to see more. That led to me losing my virginity on my fourteenth birthday! And I'd do it again!"

"I think the rest of us were all at least seventeen," Bianca observed. "But I don't see a problem with a fifteen-year-old wanting to have sex, and it's her choice, not anybody else's business. Yes, I know the law, but it's bullshit. Heck, there's probably some law against what we've been doing!"

"Both adultery and pre-marital sex are illegal in Illinois," Lucy said. "But those laws aren't enforced."

"Oh, come on," I scoffed. "Seriously? Pre-marital sex is a crime?"

"It is. But as I said, those laws haven't been enforced for some time. It was discussed in a sociology class I took last Fall. It's like the Mann Act, which makes it a crime to take any woman across state lines for 'immoral purposes' -- sex -- if she isn't your wife. And that applies to anyone, including if both people over the age of consent in both states."

"I think politicians have WAY too much time on their hands," Bianca declared, getting up to rewind the tape. "What's the plan?"

"Can I talk to Jonathan before I decide?" Izzy asked.

"Yes, of course."

"Excuse me," I said to Miranda and Kasey, got up, and led Izzy to the front room for some privacy.

"Before you say anything," I said. "It's not an either/or situation. If you aren't sure, there will be another chance if you prefer it to be private. And obviously, if you don't want to, then I'll make sure you get back to Loyola."

Izzy smiled, "Would you kiss me?"

"I will," I replied, wondering if it was some kind of test.

I held out my arms, and Izzy stepped forward, putting her arms around me. She was about five inches shorter, so she turned up her face, and I gently touched my lips to hers, tasting strawberry lip gloss. We held the kiss for a few seconds before I felt Izzy part her lips, inviting a French kiss. I obliged, and our tongues slowly twisted and turned for about fifteen seconds before she broke the kiss and stepped back.

"Yes," she said.

"One important question -- are you on the Pill? If not, I have rubbers."

"I'm on the Pill. I went on it before Prom."

"A pretty typical time for your first time," I replied.

"Only it didn't happen because my dad found out my date had booked a hotel room, and I wasn't allowed to go and wasn't allowed to see the guy again."

"You don't have to answer, but did you?"

"I came close before Prom, but we didn't have birth control. That led to the plan, but then I couldn't see him after Prom."

"And you're OK with an audience?"

Izzy laughed, "Believe it or not, I'm a thespian, so I'm used to having an audience! Our drama group wasn't as wild as some; there was lots of making out, but nothing more."

"So long as you're sure."

"Positive. The kiss sealed it. I mean, you're good-looking, but I had to kiss you to be sure."

"Do the other girls know you're a virgin?"

"Lucy does. I don't mind if they know."

"Then, when we go back, tell Bianca you're ready to join the club as a rookie called up from the minors!"

Izzy laughed, "And the Academy Award for best public display of a first time goes to Izzy Stevens!"

"I like your attitude!" I declared.

We went back to the great room, and all the girls looked expectantly at us.

"I'm ready to be called up from the minors and join the major league team!" Izzy said.

All the girls cheered and applauded.

"Is everyone playing?" I asked.

Nobody elected to leave, and that meant I was going to have another amazing evening.

"Izzy goes first, then," Bianca said. "Izzy, have you given a blowjob?"

"No," Izzy replied. "I used my hand to get a guy off, but that's it."

"Then I say Izzy should give her first blowjob and have her first fuck before we start," Bianca declared. "If it's OK with Jonathan, let's go up to his room so it can be in his bed. There's enough room for all of us to stand or sit and watch!"

There were no objections, so I took Izzy's hand and led her upstairs to my room, with the other girls following behind. It was crowded in the room, but there was, as Bianca had stated, enough room for the audience.

"Get naked, you two!" Bianca exclaimed enthusiastically.

I looked at Izzy, who smiled and pulled her sweater over her head. I began undressing, and two minutes later, we were naked. Izzy was pretty, with olive skin, nicely sized breasts, a flat stomach, and a patch of black pubic hair.

"I warned her," Lucy declared with a smirk, looking at my crotch.

I wasn't fully hard, but that would change momentarily. I held out my arms, Izzy took two steps and pressed her body against mine. We wrapped our arms around each other and exchanged a deep French kiss. After about a minute, we broke the kiss and climbed into the bed. I propped myself up with some pillows so I could watch, and Izzy knelt next to me.

"Let me give you some advice," Lucy said to Izzy.

"OK," Izzy agreed.

Lucy stepped close and whispered to Izzy, who nodded as Lucy gave her instructions. Izzy asked one whispered question, and after the answer, grasped me with her hand and began slowly stroking me. That was enough to get me completely hard, and after about two minutes, Izzy lowered her head and kissed my glans, then slowly ran her tongue along my shaft.

She did that a few times before taking my glans into her mouth, sucking softly as she swirled her tongue, then slowly taking me further in. She took me about halfway in before she backed off and began bobbing, running her tongue around my shaft as she moved. It felt great, and I really enjoyed watching Izzy as she pleasured me, thanking nature or fate or whatever it was that had me 'drowning in pussy', as Deanna had observed.

Izzy slowly increased the speed of her stroking and began sucking a bit harder, then suddenly released me, then moved up and French kissed me. After the French kiss, she began sucking, stroking, bobbing, and licking in earnest, and I felt the first signs of an impending orgasm. I didn't fight it, and about two minutes later, I twitched, then groaned. Izzy sucked hard, then released me, stroking me quickly. As soon as the first jet of cum hit her lips, she took me back into her mouth and sucked, licked, and stroked me as several more jets of cum spurted into her mouth.

After the last spurt, she released me, then turned to kiss me. She'd swallowed, but some of my cum was on her lips, mixed with her lip gloss. We kissed for a couple minutes, then she stretched out next to me.

"You like?" she asked.

"Very much!"

"That was cool!" Bianca declared. "I've actually never seen cum shoot out of him before!"

"That was Lucy's suggestion!" Izzy replied.

"It's called the 'money shot' in porn!" Lucy declared. "The guys never cum in the girl's mouth or pussy, always outside."

"How long before you can get hard again?" Izzy asked.

"Usually less than ten minutes," I replied. "If you turn on your back, I'll be happy to pleasure you with my mouth."

"God, yes!" Izzy exclaimed. "I've heard how awesome that is!"

She turned to her back, I kissed her, then moved down so I could suck on each of her nipples, running my tongue over them. I didn't do that for too long, as I wanted to reach my stated destination. I kissed my way down to her mons, then moved between her legs and ran my tongue along her thin labia before pressing it between them.

"Oh!" Izzy gasped as I touched her clit with the tip of my tongue.

She was sopping wet, and my chin and lips were quickly covered with her musky juices. It took a bit of effort, but I brought her off just before I felt the first stirrings of an erection.

"Let's switch to sixty-nine so you can get me ready," I suggested.

Izzy agreed, and after a deep kiss, I helped her move on top of me. I pressed my tongue into her, and she took me into her mouth, using her hand, lips, and tongue to get me hard. When she had, I helped her move off.

"She should be on top so we can see it go in!" Bianca exclaimed.

The other girls agreed, so I helped Izzy straddle me.

"Just grasp my dick, rub the head along your pussy to get it slick, then lower yourself onto me."

Izzy moaned as she sank down, and the other girls watched intently as I disappeared into her slick, silky pussy.

"Jesus," Izzy gasped and began rocking back and forth.

"Ride 'em, Cowgirl!" Lucy exclaimed.

After a few minutes of grinding and rocking, Izzy took that advice to heart and began moving more forcefully. Two minutes later, she groaned, and her pussy spasmed around my shaft. She leaned down and kissed me, then sat up again.

"How long can you go?" she asked, breathing hard.

"At least long enough for you to cum again," I replied. "Twice, probably."

"Yesss!" she hissed as she began moving again.

She brought herself off once more, and at her request, we switched, so I was on top. She wrapped her arms and legs around me, and we fucked hard for about five minutes before I had my release.

"That," she gasped, "was awesome!"

We lay for a minute, then she encouraged me to get up. We got out of bed, Izzy took my hand, raised it, then made a bow. I laughed and bowed with her, and the girls all applauded and cheered.

"This is where you all call for an encore!" Izzy declared.

"You wish!" Lucy declared. "You'll just have to win!"

"With ten girls, it's going to be a long time between turns," Sally observed. "May I make a suggestion?"

"Sure," Bianca said.

"Draw cards; the four girls with the highest cards get to do whatever they want until Jonathan cums."

"Shel, what do you say we pass?" Bianca asked. "We can have him anytime."

"Sure," Shelly agreed. "We got ours earlier!"

"In that case," I said, "everyone could probably have a turn because I don't have any plans for tomorrow until after lunch."

"Dibs on sleeping with Jonathan!" Julianne declared.

"Then you go last tonight," Bianca said. "The other seven draw cards for order. Jonathan, three more plus Julianne tonight, then four in the morning?"

"I can do that!" I declared.

February 20, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

The girls left just before noon on Sunday, with Izzy going last by the luck of the draw and having her encore.

"What time are the guys coming over?" Bianca asked as she, Shelly, and I sat down for lunch.

"Around 4:30pm," I replied. "Costas is bringing Chinese, so we won't have to cook."

"Just the four Boystown boys, right?" Shelly asked.

"Yes, though none of them actually live in Boystown! Stuart is on shift, and Tom and Maria had plans."

After we finished eating, I called my mom, and we had a nice chat. She seemed to be doing OK after her breakup with Glen. She asked about Bev, but I had nothing new to relate. I did tell her things were going well at work but didn't go into any details.

"Are you dating?" Mom asked after she'd inquired about Bev.

"Yes, but nobody serious."

"Because of Bev?"

"Partly," I replied. "She's in...another place, I guess. I'm afraid our relationship will never be like it was in the past, and even if I allow for being adults instead of being teenagers, it's hard for me to see a way forward for us."

"Are you giving up on her?"

"No," I replied. "That's why I said it's partly due to her."

"And you're afraid of doing something that will push her over the edge, but also, you want to recreate what you had. I'm not sure you can, either with her or anyone else. It'll have to be something different, not worse, not better, just different. And you don't know what that is."

"Nothing personal, Mom, but you've had one serious relationship, the same as me."

"And I spent years thinking about that relationship with the man who was your father. And after I ended my engagement with Glen, thinking about why I hadn't dated again until I met him."

"Will you tell me why you didn't date?" I asked.

"Partly because most men were not interested in a single mother, except perhaps those who thought she was 'easy' because she'd had a baby out of wedlock. Partly because I didn't know that I could feel the way I felt about Mark about another man."

"And partly because of me," I added.

"Yes, but not in a negative way. I was concerned how you'd respond if I dated, and I didn't want to hurt or disappoint you."

"I can see that when I was younger, but at fifteen or sixteen, we'd have talked about it, and it wouldn't have bothered me. You know your relationship with Glen didn't bother me in any way. And it still wouldn't."

"You think I should take him back?"

"I think he confessed to you, and that should count for something."

"That would make Heather your...half-sister, I think," Mom said.

I laughed, "I suppose that's technically true, but with no blood relation. I'm an adult, so whoever you marry isn't going to adopt me. And you know, I don't care about who Bev slept with any more than I care about who you slept with."

"I don't know that I can be that open-minded," Mom said. "And while I was always sure you and Bev would end up together, at some point, you have to move on. And that doesn't mean not being with Bev, but if she's decided she can't be with you for whatever reason, you can't allow your feelings for her to interfere with developing a serious relationship. I'm sure you're enjoying your freedom, and you're still young, but you do have to consider your future."

"I hear you," I said. "And that's the main struggle because, unlike you, I never really considered a future with Bev, and I certainly didn't act as if I'd want one. I can come up with all manner of rationales for my behavior, but, in the end, I was thinking only of me, not of Bev."

"And now you're beating yourself up for that. I understand why, but you can't allow that to define you. You made a decision you now regret, but you can't go back, only forward. I was in that situation twenty-one years ago -- no way to go back, only a choice of how to move forward. But I let that one, let's call it an indiscretion, define me, and I was alone for over twenty years. Well, you and I were together, but you know what I mean. Don't make the same mistake."

"I never realized you felt not dating was a mistake," I replied.

"I didn't until I met Glen," Mom said.

"And that might tell you something about him," I said.

"Maybe, but it certainly tells me something about me. And I don't want you to make a similar mistake. I'm not trying to live your life for you; I just think you need to consider what I've said."

"I will, Mom," I replied. "Talk to you next Sunday?"

"Yes."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, wondering if my mom was right.

XIV. Go Make Me Some Money!

February 20, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"What's bugging you, Jonathan?" Bianca asked on Sunday evening after Costas, Trevor, Dustin, and Archie had left.

"Is it that obvious?" I asked.

"To Shelly and me, at least. I'm not sure the boys noticed. What's up?"

"Just some stuff my mom said," I replied. "But it has me questioning my approach to relationships."

"Because of Bev?" Shelly asked.

"Right the first time," I said. "Though the more I thought about it this afternoon, Violet factors in as well."

"Just as I said," Bianca observed. "Your mom's opinion carries more weight, I suppose."

"No," I replied, shaking my head, "she just confirmed what you said, though she doesn't know about Violet."

"You know, you could just ask her how she feels," Shelly suggested.

"Yes, I could, but I think that is fraught with all kinds of challenges. I can't go into why, but even discussing the subject has the potential for disaster."

"I know you won't say one way or the other," Bianca said, "but I'm going to make an educated guess -- she was abused growing up. It fits all the facts of which I'm aware."

"I can't really comment," I said.

"I know! That's why I acknowledged you won't say one way or the other! May I make an observation? One which I think applies beyond Bev and Violet?"

"Sure; why not?"

"You have a deep-seated need to rescue or aid 'damsels in distress' - Bev, Violet, and Deanna, combined with an aversion to commitment that has you tied up in knots. I think, in a sense, you're trying to drown out your emotions with pussy."

"Hang on!" I protested. "You think that's OK! In fact, you encourage it!"

"Because it suits me and my agenda," Bianca replied. "You're enjoying it immensely, but I'm not sure it suits your psychological needs. I won't say 'emotional' because the last thing that drives you is emotion, but that doesn't mean you don't have deep-seated needs."

"OK, Doctor Freud," I chuckled. "Next, you'll say it's all tied up in wanting to kill my dad and sleep with my mom. But I can't follow Oedipus because my dad died before I was born!"

Both Shelly and Bianca laughed.

"It did sound like psychoanalysis, didn't it?" Bianca asked. "But I think the point is valid."

"So you're arguing against your own best interests?"

"Don't you when someone else's best interests conflict with yours? In fact, you said that was required when a client's best interest is at odds with your best interest."

"Except there's a nuance there," I replied. "What is in my client's best interest is always in my best interest because my best interest is served by ensuring my clients are my top priority. In other words, if I put myself before my clients, I do them a disservice, and once they discover I've done that, I'll lose them, and they won't be clients. Therefore, per Kant, it's illogical to believe my best interests are at odds with those of my clients."

"You've read Immanuel Kant?" Shelly asked.

"One of the philosophy books Anala suggested I read had a survey, and I may not be entirely accurate, but I think it fits with Kant's ideas. But in any event, I disagree with Bianca's point, to a point, in that we differ on what it means."

"I know she usually gives you advice, but may I?"

"Of course. Advice is just that -- advice. It is simply one more piece of data to consider in making my decisions."

"Logical to a fault," Shelly observed. "First, let me ask about what Bianca said about your aversion to commitment -- do you agree?"

"Yes, and in analyzing my actions, I think it has as much to do with not wanting to foreclose things with Bev as anything else."

"Which makes sense, but be your usual logical, analytical self and tell me what you think the most likely outcome will be."

"That Bev and I cannot reclaim what we had because we're no longer the same people we were in High School. Whether or not we can find a way forward together is an open question, but to anticipate your next question, I'd say the odds are against it, given what's happened in the past month."

"So it's not really an open question, is it?"

"I suppose not," I admitted. "I mean, it's possible but not probable."

"The other point before I give my advice is that you believe an exclusive relationship is the start of a lifetime commitment, but I think this is a case where your logical approach actually prevents you from taking a logical action."

"And what would a logical action be?" I asked.

"Pick a girl and develop a real relationship with her. Don't make any promises about getting engaged or even committing to exclusivity, at least in the short term. There are plenty of girls who would be amenable, and I know at least two are angling for something in that vein -- Deanna and Keiko. There's a reason they asked to move in, and I'm sure you know what that is."

"It gives them a chance to develop a deeper relationship, but doesn't force me into a relationship before I'm ready."

"Exactly. So, my provisional advice is to agree to let them move in, focus on them, and maybe one other girl, and see what happens."

"And the two of you?" I asked.

Shelly smiled, "I assumed we'd all have sex until one of the three of us entered into a relationship that didn't permit it. Besides Deanna and Keiko, which girl do you most want to go out with?"

"I think that depends on which factors I consider," I replied. "Anna would win hands down, but she works for Spurgeon."

"But didn't you say she rejected the entire culture the same as you do?"

"Yes. Her Swedish values are totally at odds with how the Suits behave."

"You're a Suit!" Bianca interjected.

"Yes, but also no, if you understand what I mean."

"I do," she replied. "You equate that word with what you called the 'coke and hookers' culture."

"So," Shelly said, "if you both reject that idea, what's the problem with dating? From everything you've said, she's rational, intelligent, level-headed."

"And 'smoking hot'," Bianca added with a smirk.

"That might have something to do with it," I chuckled. "Setting her aside for a moment, it would probably be Haley, but I want to reserve judgment on that until after tomorrow's date with Teri."

"The redhead from your class?"

"Yes. And all of that said, I still need to think about Violet."

"Either you ask her about it, or you give up on it," Shelly said. "There isn't a middle ground unless you want to wait forever, only to be disappointed."

It was more complex than that, though I couldn't say so because I couldn't reveal the confidence with which Violet had entrusted me. I could actually NOT wait forever and still be disappointed by Violet's potential inability to ever be physically intimate.

"You're probably right," I replied. "But I do need to think about it more. The other thing I have to consider is that if I did take your advice, how living with four girls would affect a relationship with another girl."

"If she couldn't deal with it, then is she really the right girl for you? That was Clara's problem, right?"

"Basically," I agreed.

"And Phoebe's, too," Bianca added.

"She misplayed her hand, so to speak," Shelly said. "If she had been wise and bided her time, she might have had the end result she wanted, but she was too locked into the idea of a traditional, exclusive relationship and couldn't see past that. Right?"

"So are you, Shel!" Bianca exclaimed. "If you could, we have a readymade solution without anyone else moving in!"

"I just don't think I'm cut out for that for the rest of my life," Shelly replied. "Not to mention how it would look to any school where I applied to teach. You're going into computers, and from what I see and hear, it's very libertarian; schools are very conservative, and doubly so if I end up teaching at a parochial school."

"So you'll let society dictate your happiness?" Bianca challenged.

"No, like Jonathan, I'm aware of what society thinks, but I have to do what I feel is necessary to be fulfilled, and for me, that's a traditional marriage. Jonathan feels the same way, though the sheer amount of pussy available is tempting him to your solution. I just don't think he'd be happy long-term."

"Let me think about it," I said. "But I am leaning towards Deanna and Keiko moving into the new house with us."

"And my advice about picking one other girl and developing a relationship?" Shelly asked.

"I'll take it under advisement."

February 21, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Monday was President's Day, which meant the markets were closed, and I didn't have to work. When I went downstairs to have breakfast, I was still reflecting on the conversation with Shelly. I had concluded, before falling asleep the previous night, that I would say 'yes' to both Deanna and Keiko moving into the house. It made sense from a financial point of view, but also with regards to our relationships. I liked both of them, and their approach to a potential future was mature and rational and not all that far from mine. In the end, I saw a tremendous upside with no real downside.

What I hadn't resolved was the second part of Shelly's advice -- picking one other girl and developing a deeper relationship. If I were to do that, the candidates were, forgetting other impediments, Violet, Anna, and Haley. I did have a date with Teri later in the day, and that presented a dilemma because she was still a Senior in High School despite taking a class at Circle.

I thought about the situation and decided I had to keep my date. My brief interactions with her before and after class indicated she was mature, but I'd have to be sure about that before I even considered a second date. In addition, there would have to be some kind of connection or spark beyond the fact that she was a pretty redhead.

The real question in my mind was whether or not I wanted to give up the chance at more parties like the one we'd had on Saturday night and had continued on Sunday morning. Those were fun, but I couldn't imagine any girl I even thought about becoming serious with accepting that kind of behavior. Even Shelly, who participated, would want me to stop if we became serious. And, in thinking that, I realized I needed to add her to the list, though she'd be living with me, so, in effect, it was similar to Deanna and Keiko.

"Lost in thought?" Bianca asked when she came into the kitchen.

"I'm still thinking about the conversation we had yesterday," I replied.

"Obviously, and you were so preoccupied with it last night that you slept alone."

"I just needed time to think. What's your take on Shelly's advice?"

"To turn your philosophy on you, I think my best interests are served by you doing what makes you happy and fulfilled. My worst-case scenario is that we're great friends, and maybe even co-workers if the use of computers in your work expands the way you think it will."

"And the best case?" I asked.

"A trio, of course! You, me, and Shelly, or another girl, if Shelly can't handle it, which I don't think she can. We all have sex together, I have a baby with you, and the girl with the marriage certificate has as many babies with you as she wants. But I don't think that's going to happen with you. That means, at some point, I find a guy and a girl who can handle it and want that kind of relationship. I think the guy will be easier to find."

I chuckled, "The offer is to have sex for the rest of his life with two girls and have kids with both of them? And get to watch two girls have sex? Yeah, I think that'll be fairly easy!"

"And yet the counterexample stands before me, making scrambled eggs and sausage links."

"It's tempting, but after thinking about it last night and this morning, I'm fairly certain my first inclination was correct -- that I'm better suited to a traditional relationship."

"I think part of that is a reaction to the crap that goes on at Spurgeon."

"Probably," I replied. "And to my mom's situation, and to some extent, Bev's."

"Did you come up with a short list?"

"Violet, Haley, and Anna, though I haven't had my date with Teri yet. And Shelly."

"Which I'm sure you realize was her actual goal with that conversation. She was just wise enough not to say it and to let you figure it out yourself. Which is the only possible way for her to succeed."

"Whereas you have to convince me."

"Different strategies are required because of your predisposition to a traditional relationship, but also because you need to feel that it's your decision and you do not react well to pressure."

"Some people might say you were pressuring me," I replied.

"But you wouldn't because you see it as, well, advocacy, not pressure. You believe people should state their minds and make their arguments, and not hold back. Shelly has no argument to make, so to speak, because you already agree with her. I have to make the argument because you don't agree with me."

"And you really won't be upset?"

"Why would I be? I may not be as logical as you are, but I agree with you on a whole range of things, including the idea that romantic love is silly. That's why you and I could say 'I love you' to each other and not have it mean more than it does; that would not be true of Shelly. If you say it to her, she'll take it romantically, and frankly, that's the real impediment with her, the same as it was with Clara. Are any of the girls on your list romantic?"

"Keiko and Deanna certainly aren't, at least in the way you mean. I can't say for sure about Haley, and Anna strikes me as too sensible to be misled by romantic notions. I don't know Teri well enough to answer that question, and Violet is, well, Violet."

"I agree with Shelly that you need to find a way to discuss the future with Violet, even if it might be uncomfortable for both of you. If you don't, you might really hurt her, which I know you don't want to do."

"I don't."

Shelly came into the kitchen a minute later, and a few minutes after that, I put plates with scrambled eggs, sausage links, and bread on the table, then poured juice and coffee for each of us. We ate, worked together to clean up the kitchen, then cleaned the house, as Kasia had spoken to Bianca on Thursday evening about showing the house to a prospective renter during the afternoon. We finished, I showered, then headed to Billy Goat Tavern to meet Teri Maguire for lunch.

"Hi!" Teri exclaimed when I walked into the tavern.

"Hi," I replied.

She gave me a quick hug and touched cheeks in what I considered a polite greeting between friends.

"Cheeseburgers, chips, and Cokes?" Teri asked.

"The Saturday Night Live skit is 'No Coke. Pepsi'," I replied.

"Well, they do serve fries here, so that's not the same, either!"

"I'm fine with that. Let me order."

I went to the counter and ordered, with the counterman saying 'Cheezborger, Cheezborger' to the grill man. Just over five minutes later, we were seated with our food.

"What did you want to do after we eat?" I asked.

"I'm open to pretty much anything," Teri replied.

"There isn't really anything playing at the theatre that interests me," I replied.

"Me, either. All the museums are open today, if you're interested in the Shedd Aquarium, Adler Planetarium, or Museum of Science and Industry?"

"I haven't been to the museum. That's in Hyde Park, right?"

"Yes. We can take the train, or if you have your car, it's basically a straight shot on LSD."

"I have my car," I replied.

"Afterwards, there are plenty of good places to eat in the area."

"Sounds good. So, besides taking math at Circle, playing violin, and being a twin, tell me about you."

"Let's see," she said. "I was born at Mercy Hospital, have lived in Bridgeport my entire life, and I turned eighteen on November 4th."

"My birthday is on the 3rd," I said.

"Twenty, right?"

"Yes."

"So only two years apart," she observed. "Our family is from Ireland, and my grandparents on both sides still live there. My mom and dad came to Chicago as teenagers just after the war. My brother and I are the youngest of seven. It's a traditional Irish Catholic family."

"I'm an atheist," I replied.

"Well, we won't be going to Midnight Mass together, that's for sure!"

"Is that a problem?"

"I go to church, but the Pope and I do not see eye-to-eye! There is no way I'm having seven kids, and I know how to ensure that doesn't happen!"

"Wise," I replied. "But that doesn't actually answer my question."

"I go because it's what Irish Catholics do," Teri said. "But I'm not what you would call religious."

"What about kids?" I asked.

Teri laughed, "Don't you think we should at least have lunch before you ask me to have kids with you?"

I chuckled, "I meant hypothetically!"

"Obviously, but I have a goofy sense of humor. Troy does as well, and our parents do not appreciate it. We're too irreverent for their tastes."

"Do you two do everything together?"

"Except for our choice of instruments and the fact that he's a tenor and I'm a mezzo, yes. Well, he's obviously not here, either, and I sure as heck don't intend to bring him on my honeymoon!"

"Good to know! And it's a bit soon to be discussing a honeymoon?"

"I meant hypothetically!" Teri declared, mimicking me.

"I, too, have a goofy sense of humor, and I'm definitely irreverent. I've been in a church three times in my life -- once for a funeral and twice for weddings."

"Your parents weren't churchgoers?"

"Mom was, growing up, but stopped when she became pregnant with me at sixteen. I have no idea about my dad because he died before I was born."

"Whoa! How?"

"A plane crash."

"How old was he?"

"Around twenty-five or twenty-six. The last time my mom saw him was when she got pregnant with me."

"Unmarried, obviously."

"Obviously," I confirmed. "Her parents kicked her out."

"My parents would not be happy, but I doubt they'd kick me out. They'd probably insist I marry the guy, which I probably would, given why we'd need to get married."

"In all seriousness, how important is going to church and your faith?"

"This sounds like what my Intro to Philosophy teacher calls an inflection point, and we aren't even fifteen minutes into our date!"

"No matter what your answer is, we can enjoy the afternoon," I replied. "It's the question of a second date."

"Wow!" Teri exclaimed. "Talk about cutting to the chase!"

"I prefer to be direct rather than beat around the bush. And the last thing I want to do is give a false impression of something I know is very important to some people. It is to me, but in the opposite way, if you get my point."

"It sounds as if you've had trouble that way in the past."

"I had a relationship go South in a serious way over that concern."

Two, actually, but Lily and I had reconciled, and that had been more about Costas than anything else.

"Well, now that it's on the table, what's your bottom line?"

"I won't say or do anything that contradicts my core beliefs," I replied.

"I know we're getting WAY ahead of things, but no church wedding, right?"

"Not given what I understand the conditions for a Catholic wedding to be. Is that something you want?"

"I think it's better to say it's expected by my parents."

"Yes, but what do you want?" I asked.

"Let me turn the tables and ask if you plan to ask me out again? And if I have to answer before you would?"

"And I can play the same game and ask if you'll say 'yes' if I ask you out again!"

Teri laughed, "We could go around in circles. How about if I say I want to spend the day with you before I give a provisional answer? Are you OK with that?"

"Yes."

"So what about you?"

"Not much to tell about growing up, except my mom was a single parent, and I didn't do much except go to school and work, which started when I was fifteen; well before because I shoveled snow and mowed lawns. When I graduated, I left home and came here to work in the mailroom of Spurgeon Capital and worked my way up to being an analyst."

"Which is why you had your suit on the first few days this month."

"Yes, but I decided it wasn't worth risking getting them dirty, so most days, I change before I come to class."

"OK to ask what's up with the girl you see after class?"

"It's OK to ask any question, and if I can't answer or don't want to, I'll tell you directly. In this case, she's a friend. She had a troubled childhood, and we hit it off, but as friends and nothing more."

"How long have you known her?" Teri asked.

"Just over a year, and it's completely platonic, but I don't see that friendship ending even if I'm dating seriously."

"You think I'm the jealous type?"

"I don't know you well enough to say," I replied. "Again, I'm just being upfront."

"That's not the norm for first dates! You try to put your best side forward, not give all the reasons to not want to see the person again! I don't think this is the case, but I have to ask if you kept this date just to be polite."

"No, I wanted to get to know you better. I was a bit concerned about you still being in High School, but I don't think that's a problem."

"If I were sixteen, that would be different, but I'm only two years younger than you are. Well, two years and a day, to be exact. I didn't have to ask my parents' permission to meet you today if that concerns you. I'm eighteen, and my parents recognize I'm a responsible adult."

"Not everyone matures at the same rate," I replied. "And if I'd thought you were a silly teenage girl, I wouldn't have asked you out."

"I am a silly teenage girl!" Teri declared. "I'm eighteen and have a goofy or silly sense of humor!"

"And you know that's not what I meant!"

"Again, obviously! And no, I'm neither clueless, naïve, nor childish, which I believe is your real concern."

"You believe correctly."

"Get used to saying that!" Teri declared. "I won a state debating competition last year!"

"How does that work?" I asked. "I didn't pay any attention to the debate team in High School."

"Jock? You look like you could be one."

"No, I worked every day after school, so I had no time for any extracurricular activities."

"I competed in extemporaneous speech, which means they give you a proposition, you have a few minutes to prepare, and then you have to present a coherent argument for or against the proposition. The final prop was 'the death penalty is a deterrent to crime'. I took the 'anti' position and won."

"I'm not sure the government should be able to kill anyone," I replied.

"I agree, but the Constitution allows it and, in fact, assumes it to be OK."

"The Founders also thought that it was a great idea for the VP to be the loser of the Presidential election," I chuckled. "So I'm not sure their judgment was as sound as some people think it was!"

"They fixed that one pretty quickly," Teri said. "The Twelfth Amendment, added in 1804, separated the votes for President and Vice President."

"Going back to our conversation, you said you plan to go to UofI in the Fall."

"Yes, and anticipating your next question, it's less than three hours by car."

"Is that a four-year program?"

"Yes. I plan to get a Master's as well, and I'll audition for the UofI Symphony Orchestra."

"What's your plan after you get a Master's?"

"To teach, most likely High School, and play in a community orchestra. Do you have a goal beyond being a stockbroker? Or whatever the next level is?"

"That's a good question," I replied. "A lot depends on how things go at Spurgeon. My boss, who is also my mentor, has been there since the beginning, so that's possible, but a lot of guys move on to other firms. If I do leave, I think I'd try to start my own company, but that takes a serious amount of capital and some serious investors."

"How much, if it's OK to ask?"

"Probably at least a hundred million," I replied. "Right now, I manage about four and a half million, in addition to my job as an analyst."

"A hundred million?" Teri gasped. "You're joking!"

I shook my head, "No. Spurgeon Capital manages over three billion dollars, of which about ten percent is Noel Spurgeon's own money."

"That's just crazy! Not that I don't think he should have that much money if he made it fair and square, but it's almost unfathomable. How much of the four and a half million is yours?"

"A small fraction," I replied. "Most of it is in a trust fund I'm managing for a friend."

"I take it your job pays well?"

"It does. I take it that's a consideration?"

Teri laughed, "I'm no gold digger, but music teachers who play in community orchestras don't make big bucks, not to mention I expect to have a couple of kids, which means taking at least some time off."

"What would your ideal situation be?"

"Giving private violin lessons and being a mom, but that would depend on my future husband's job. And here we go, getting ahead of ourselves again! Can I ask a question?"

"As I said, you can ask anything and don't need to ask if you can ask."

"It feels as if you're going through a checklist in your head and expecting me to know all the answers right now, even before I get to know you. And if I don't match some checklist you have in your head, you won't ask me out again. Why do that on a first date?"

"I'm going to give a direct answer," I said. "With the understanding, it might not come across very well."

"I'm a big girl," Teri said.

"Fundamentally, there are, in my mind, non-negotiable criteria for someone I'd consider for a serious relationship, and it strikes me as logical and practical to find out as quickly as possible if there is some major impediment rather than find out later when there would be more time and effort invested in the relationship."

"Does the word 'love' mean anything to you?" Teri asked.

"Yes, but probably not the way most people mean when they say they're 'in love'. I'm not an emotional person, and don't let feelings control me."

"It sounds like instead of vows, you're going to want a signed contract!"

"It does work out the same way," I replied. "You agree to a set of rules to govern your relationship, which are expressed to each other, and you sign the marriage license with witnesses."

"Definitely not romantic. I mean, I see your point, but that's not exactly a way to score points with a girl!"

"And would you rather find out that's my approach now or six months from now?"

"Again, I see your point, but why lead with that?"

"Honestly? Because once you said 'traditional Catholic', it sent the conversation in a specific direction."

"Because of your bad experience," Teri observed. "I get that, but what did you expect to find when you asked out a red-haired, green-eyed, Irish girl from Bridgeport, except that she's Catholic? What were you thinking?"

"About the red hair, green eyes, and nice figure."

"At least you're honest."

"Probably to a fault," I admitted.

"In the interest of full disclosure, I did notice you were tall, handsome, and in great shape, and Troy was right that I was drooling over you in your suit."

"So we each think the other is hot!"

"I don't know if I'd go THAT far!" Teri exclaimed.

"Don't sell yourself short!"

Teri laughed, "And you know that's not what I meant!"

"Obviously! Just my goofy sense of humor."

We finished our lunch, and I felt I had to ask Teri what she thought.

"Still want to go to the museum and have dinner?" I asked.

Teri was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Is your worldview so narrow that there's no room in it for someone who goes to church?"

"There is room for that, of course, but having a relationship with someone who sees the world so differently is fraught with all manner of problems. It's one thing to be friends or even date, but it would be a completely different thing to marry and have kids."

"Talk about cutting to the chase or skipping to the end! It's our first date!"

"Yes, and if there's a second, there's likely to be a third, and so on. Maybe we get to that point, and maybe we don't, but wouldn't it be better to know sooner rather than later if it won't work?"

"Logical, but love isn't logical."

"No, it's not, but love won't overcome a spiritual gulf. One person or the other would have to yield."

"And that would have to be me?"

"Have to? No, of course not. It really comes down to a question of being close enough in our worldview to make it work. And we'd have this discussion, or one like it, if we were in different Christian denominations. I don't know a lot about the differences, but I know enough to know that Catholics and Baptists don't teach the same things and don't worship in the same way. I also know the Catholics require all sorts of promises for a church wedding. I suspect Baptists do, too, but I don't know."

"I don't know much about Baptists except they think all Catholics are going to Hell."

"I find it odd that one Christian group would say that about another Christian group. The question is, how important is church to you?"

"You mean is going to church and believing in God more important to me than you are?"

"That is the question, isn't it?"

"The answer is, I don't know because I don't know you well enough. If I have to answer today, it's an easy 'no'. The only way I can reach a different conclusion is to get to know you better, and the only way that happens is if we spend time together."

"Is that a 'yes' for the museum and dinner?"

"Yes," Teri replied. "I mean, the worst-case scenario is I get a second free meal!"

I laughed, we got up from our table, and left the restaurant to walk to the garage where I'd parked my car. We headed to Hyde Park and had a nice time at the Museum of Science and Industry and then had dinner at a diner near the university. We had a great conversation, getting to know each other, though we avoided the topic of church. After we finished dinner, I drove her home to Bridgeport.

"Should I ask you on a second date?" I inquired as I turned onto Halsted Street.

"Do you want to ask me on a second date?" Teri countered.

"Is this how it's going to be?" I asked. "Answering a question with a question?"

"It's not my fault you didn't ask the correct question!" Teri countered. "You wanted to know if you should ask me on a second date. I don't know the answer to that question! I do know the answer to 'Will you go out with me again?' if that's your actual question!"

"Now you sound like me," I chuckled. "I'm going to guess debate team involves learning formal logic?"

"Yes. And being able to quickly analyze an argument and find the weaknesses. I suspect it's somewhat similar to what you do, just without the numbers."

"The numbers are merely symbols," I replied. "The true analysis has to do with what's going on in the world and how everything interrelates to affect those numbers. In the end, though, they're simply representations of an expected outcome developed by correlating disparate facts."

"Are you going to ask?"

"Would you like to go out next Saturday?"

"Yes."

February 22, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"FX Desk, Kane," I said when I answered my phone mid-morning on Tuesday.

"Mr. Spurgeon would like to see you," Cheryl, his secretary with the world's sexiest voice, said.

"I can come up right now if he's available."

"He is."

"Be right there."

I got up, left the office, took the elevator up to 33, and walked to the corner office.

"Go right in," Cheryl said, flashing me a smile.

I knew exactly what Noel Spurgeon saw in her, though if the rumors were correct, and I had no doubt they were, she was too old for him.

"Kane to see you, Mr. Spurgeon," I said as I stepped into his office.

"Good job on predicting that currency devaluation."

"Thank you."

"Are you standing by your prediction of a precious metals crash this week?"

"I am not uncertain," I replied. "Something has to give, and soon. The spreads are at historic highs, and forward put contract volume is increasing."

"Before we go back to the Bolivar if the precious metals crash happens this week, I'll fly you and a lady friend to Saint Martin on my private jet for a week at my house there."

"I applied for my passport, but it will probably be another four weeks before it arrives, so the trip would have to be in April or May."

"You're damned confident."

"The numbers don't lie."

"No, but they can be misunderstood or misinterpreted. Your call on the Bolivar was gutsy."

"And backstopped because it was an extreme play. The backstop left around twenty percent of the possible gain on the table."

"And yet, we made more on that call than any single call in the past six years, and it exceeded the bet my dad made on oil prices in '73 that, in effect, seeded Spurgeon Capital as a hedge fund, rather than being a boutique brokerage and currency management firm as it was when we started."

"May I ask what happened to him?"

"He retired to Switzerland. What am I going to do with you?"

"Sir?"

"You have the balls and the analytical skills to make it, but you don't have the experience or track record for me to move you up. I think you can make the firm a lot of money, so I need to fix that. One moment."

He picked up the phone and dialed a number.

"Frank? Noel. Move five million in cash from the Spurgeon Select Fund to the Cincinnatus Fund...Yes, I'm serious...Thanks."

I understood the conversation immediately -- he was giving me five million of his money to manage as I saw fit, and how well I did with it would determine what happened next. The one downside was that because it was his money, I wouldn't receive the usual commissions or fees. But, in the end, having more money to manage with meant more opportunities, and I could make more for both myself and my small group of friends.

"You have five mil to manage," Mr. Spurgeon said. "Show me what else you can do."

"I won't let you down," I said firmly.

"I wouldn't expect you to say anything else. Also, before you came up, I authorized a special bonus of $50,000; $25,000 in your name in the Spurgeon Select Fund and $25,000 to your bank account. The wire transfer should be completed by the end of business today."

Of course, he'd made $80 million, so $50,000 was a drop in the bucket to him, but it was a ridiculous amount of money for me. In my wildest dreams, I hadn't expected to be this successful, this fast. I knew the risks, though, as the vast majority of new traders crashed and burned within two years. Those who didn't, like Noel Spurgeon, Murray Matheson, Mark Benton, and Eric Thiele, became rich enough to basically do whatever they pleased.

"Thank you."

"Keep it up, and the money will keep flowing. You know how this works."

"I do," I confirmed.

"Dismissed, Kane. Go make me some money!"

"Yes, Sir!"

XV. Get Used To Saying That!

February 22, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"You'll see the financial statement on March 5th," I said, "but I had a big win on a currency play. Unfortunately, the terms of the trust don't allow currency plays, so the gains were limited to the money you have in the Cincinnatus Fund."

"I wish I could change those to give you a free hand, but the terms are ironclad. How much did you make?"

"Enough," I replied.

"You know I'm not going to say a word, and nobody else is here."

"Six figures," I replied. "If my other bet hits, I'll have made something like half-a-mil since January in my fund."

"Not bad."

"What the fuck?! Not bad?!" I asked with faux outrage.

Jeri laughed, "That's pocket change for my mom!"

"I call bullshit!" I chuckled. "For Noel Spurgeon, it might be, but he has at least thirty times what your mom has because her Foundation money isn't actually hers! Sure, she benefits from it because she controls where it goes, but she can't spend it on herself."

"She and my dad have large salaries, paid by the Foundation, and there are all manner of other advantages. Anything she does for the Foundation is paid for by the Foundation. Trip to Switzerland? Schedule one meeting to raise funds and the entire thing is paid for by the Foundation. Want to go to a nice restaurant? Take a donor, and the Foundation pays. And so on. And remember, the Foundation is tax exempt."

"Shady, at best," I observed.

"And yet standard practice for many charitable foundations. Is everything set with your house?"

"Yes. I'm waiting for the inspection, which will happen next week, then we close on the 18th. We'll spend the week fixing it up, then move in on the 25th. We're having a housewarming on the 26th, and you're invited, of course."

"Thanks."

"Did you vote today?" Jeri asked.

"For Mayor Byrne, though I think Congressman Washington will win."

We had to end our private conversation as Nelson, Gary, Allyson, and our newest member, Pete, who worked for Continental Illinois Bank as an underwriting specialist, arrived in quick succession. Nelson introduced Pete to all of us, and, as usual, Karl brought us all drinks.

"I take it we had a good week?" Nelson asked.

"We did. You'll see the financial report the first week in March, but the Bolivar bet paid off big."

"That's what I want to hear!" Gary exclaimed.

"Can anyone get into this fund?" Pete asked.

"I have a spot for you, if you want. If you give me your card, I'll send you the paperwork."

"What's the minimum buy-in?" he asked.

"$1000 for my Cincinnatus Fund. It's 'friends and family', so the usual rules don't apply, and it's 'one and ten' instead of 'two and twenty'. I assume you know what that means?"

"Yes, the commission and fee structure," Pete replied.

"And I have to wait for Residency before I have any money," Allyson groused. "I'll work for the last two years of med school and pay for the privilege!"

"Practical training, but you're paying tuition, right?" Gary asked.

"Yes," Allyson replied. "Four years of undergrad, then four years of med school, with the first two being classroom and the second two being clinical rotations. When I finish that, I become an Intern, which is what they call first-year Residents. That's when I start receiving a paycheck, but it's a pittance for the first year."

"What specialty?" Pete asked.

"I don't know yet, but I'm interested in Emergency Medicine. It's a relatively new specialty. Until very recently, the ER was staffed mostly by surgeons, with internists filling in when they needed help. The first truly modern ER was actually here in Chicago, at Cook County, and was called the 'Shock-Trauma Unit'. That was in the late 60s."

"What year of college?"

"I'm finishing my Sophomore year," Allyson replied.

Karl announced dinner, so we all went to the dining room to eat. Gary was enjoying his new position as Deputy Chief of Staff for Senator Alan Dixon, and things were going well for Nelson at the law firm. Jeri was still a year away from graduating from High School, and, as she'd said, Allyson was finishing her Sophomore year in pre-med at Loyola.

After dinner, we had dessert and coffee, then we all said 'good night', and the gathering broke up.

"Mind if I ask what happened with you and Clara?" Allyson asked as we got into my car. "I got her side, but I suspect it's not true, or at least not the whole truth."

I considered whether I should discuss it with Allyson, given they were sisters, and decided I could, at least in a general way.

"I called it philosophical differences," I said, "and I think that's the root cause. Fundamentally, she wasn't ready for a relationship with someone like me and was having real trouble understanding where I was coming from."

"You can be pretty intense in your logical, analytical mode, which you're in pretty much full-time."

"That was the source of the problem, really. Yes, she wanted an exclusive relationship with a direct path to marriage, and you know I'm not ready to make that commitment. What did she say?"

"That you didn't want to be her boyfriend, and you were doing your best to force her to break it off so you didn't have to."

"She totally misunderstood the conversation, which is, in and of itself, enough to have broken up with her. She was, in addition to not understanding, impatient, and, I think, a bit immature. And that's really all I can say about it."

"Too weird if I come home with you?" Allyson asked.

"Not from my perspective. You aren't seeing anyone that would preclude it, right?"

"No chance! I'm having too much fun to want to be tied down! I can do whatever I want and don't have to answer to anyone except myself. You have the same general idea, which is part of why you aren't in an exclusive relationship. Kristy really surprised me."

"Me, too," I agreed. "But I can see her point, given she's positive Jack is Mr. Right."

"So if you met Miss Right, you'd be exclusive?"

"If I was sure? Yes. It would be illogical and foolish to do otherwise. And isn't that how it works? You stay single until you find the person with whom you feel you could spend the rest of your life."

"Logically, that makes perfect sense, though most people don't think about it in that way."

"Most people are controlled by their emotions, not logic," I replied. "Or maybe it's better to say that their emotions often override their logic."

"I've seen that with girls making really bad relationship decisions."

"I think it's generally applicable and that irrationality wins out over rationality in many, if not most, cases."

"Such as?"

"To use an example from something going on at work, the price of gold and silver had run up too far, too fast, in relation to everything else going on in the economy, and all the signs are there for a major correction. The average investor only sees the price going up and believes the price will always go up, which is not true. It's similar to what's called the Gambler's Fallacy -- that a number is 'due' to hit on the roulette wheel. While it's true that all numbers come up with equal frequency over an infinite series, it's not true over a limited series. Given nobody has infinite funds, statistics don't actually matter beyond understanding the odds of a specific bet."

"I remember a question from my stats class in High School about flipping a coin. If you flip heads nine times in a row, what are the chances the tenth will be heads?"

"Fifty-fifty, like every other individual flip, as the coin has no memory."

"Exactly. But a lot of people disagreed because they were thinking about the overall chances of flipping ten heads in a row, which is something like one in a thousand. So what do you do when you notice stuff like that?"

"I sold gold and silver contracts for forward delivery. If the price drops as I expect, I can cover those sales contracts by buying immediate delivery contracts at market. Basically, I make the price difference minus the cost of the contracts, which is minimal because they're both at market. And the best part is I only have to put up a tiny amount of capital."

"But you could lose, right?"

"Only if the price continues to go up through the end of May, which is unlikely. If the price doesn't fall by mid-March, I'll make another investment to cover by buying a matching call for May delivery. But every single indicator points to a fall, and enough others have begun effectively shorting gold and silver that it's a lock at this point. The herd basically went where it had to go, and I was one of the first to take advantage of that. The retail investors, that is, the general public, will mostly take a bath."

"How much will you make, in general terms?"

"For silver, $5,000 for every $1 change in price, per contract; for gold, $1000 for every $10 change in price. The reason for the discrepancy is that gold is about thirty-five times more per ounce than silver, and standard contracts for gold are for 100 ounces, whereas a silver contract is 5000 ounces."

"Pretty impressive for being twenty."

"Thanks."

"And it's not the only impressive thing!"

I chuckled, "The feeling is mutual!"

When we arrived at the house, Shelly let me know that there was mail for me, and I was happy to see that I'd received my American Express card.

February 23, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Same time next month?" Allyson asked as we got out of bed on Wednesday morning.

"Assuming neither of us is in a relationship, yes," I agreed.

"I doubt I'll be; you might?"

"I don't have anyone in mind," I replied, "but I'm not ruling it out for the reasons I gave last night."

"That's a change of attitude," Allyson said as we got into the shower together.

"It's really more a matter of allowing for the possibility than actively seeking it out."

"I'm going to guess that means things are not going well with the girl from back home."

"She's not in a good place, and I'm not sure there's anything more I can do to help her and restore our relationship, and I simply can't put my life on hold indefinitely."

"No, you can't."

We finished our shower, dried off, dressed, and went downstairs to have breakfast. After breakfast, I drove Allyson to Loyola, then headed to the office to begin preparing my morning analyst report.

The first thing I checked was precious metals, and I saw that the short volume was increasing dramatically, and that meant the entire professional market was sure the prices were going to break, and soon. If they didn't, it risked a short squeeze, which would drive the prices higher and create even greater spreads, which would eventually fulfill my prediction. I had until the end of May, so I wasn't worried about the short squeeze.

I wrote that section of my report, then looked at interest rates, currencies, and government debt instruments and updated my analysis, though there was nothing major to report with anything other than the precious metals. The world environment was relatively stable, with the usual low-intensity conflicts in Africa, Central America, and South America. The one area that did concern me was the Middle East, but there was nothing of note to add to my analysis.

Once I completed the report, I printed it out and put it on Mr. Matheson's desk, then began revising my recommendation for the Nexis system. I finished it just before lunch and gave it to Mr. Matheson, who promised to read it so we could discuss it on Friday. I had a quick lunch at my desk, then Anna and I went to the gym for our workout.

I had a bit of trouble concentrating on my workout routine because Anna was wearing shorts and a tight white T-shirt that showed off her athletic figure even more than the stylish clothes she wore in the office. If bringing me candy and brownies on Valentine's Day had tempted me to make an exception to my rule, her long legs, tight butt, and firm breasts made an even stronger argument. Added to that were blue eyes, blonde hair, and a winning smile, and she was the complete package and the epitome of the stereotypical Swedish girl.

We finished our workout, showered separately in the segregated locker rooms, and after we'd dressed, we headed back to the office. There was a note from Mr. Matheson asking for an interest rate analysis and comparison with historical trends, though the challenge was that the market intervention by Paul Volcker was unprecedented since the Federal Reserve had been formed in 1913. Before Volcker's intervention, which took the Fed Funds rate to 19%, the highest it had ever been was 12.5% during the Oil Shock.

The rate currently stood at just over 9%, and the question I needed to answer was how quickly the Fed would ease and how far. Based on historical trends and the performance of the economy, I didn't believe the rate would return to the historical norms of 3% to 5% for at least two years and possibly much longer. The market agreed as interest rate futures were predicting rates between 7% and 10% for at least the next eighteen months.

My take was that there was a significant risk that the Fed had eased too quickly and that inflation would return, causing a rise in rates to soak up the excess money supply. Just before 5:00pm, I handed Mr. Matheson an analyst note that predicted rates would average about 8%, plus or minus a percent, for the next year, and that beyond that, my prediction was purely speculative and would average around 6%.

I left the office at 5:00pm and headed to Violet's for dinner. As I drove, I thought about our relationship, and the fact that no matter what happened, I ran the risk of causing Violet some amount of distress. If Bianca, Shelly, and Lily were right about how Violet felt about me, and I suspected they were, then I had to somehow find out if Violet was able to have an intimate relationship with me, or anyone, for that matter. I wasn't sure what to say, but I had to say something, and I felt it had to be before I became serious with anyone else.

"Hi!" Violet exclaimed when she opened the door.

"Hi!" I replied.

We exchanged a quick hug, then went to the kitchen to have dinner at the dinette table. As we ate and chatted, I recognized an opportunity to raise the topic.

"What happens when this semester ends?" Violet asked. "You won't be taking a class."

"We'll still see each other," I replied. "We'll just have to work out a schedule."

"But it won't be as often," Violet said, sounding sad. "I like having dinner with you, but I guess that's going to stop because you aren't taking classes during the Summer and only a Saturday class in the Fall. I just wish it could stay like it is now."

"About the only way that could happen," I replied, knowing what I was saying was fraught with potential problems, "is if we were a couple."

"You mean like boyfriend and girlfriend?" Violet asked nervously.

"If you wanted. I'm already spending more time together than I spend with any other girl. I like you, and I believe you like me, too."

"I do," Violet said quietly. "But you would want to...you know?"

"That is something couples do, eventually, at some point in their relationship."

"I don't know..." Violet whispered, shaking slightly.

"I understand," I replied gently. "We're friends, and I hope we remain friends for the rest of our lives, but when I eventually have a steady girlfriend, that will limit how often I can see you."

Violet looked as if she were about to cry, but I'd felt I had to at least put the idea forward, because one of her fears was warranted -- that we wouldn't spend as much time together in the long run unless there was some kind of change to our relationship. In my mind, it really was a binary choice -- friends or lovers, with the latter implying a lifetime commitment.

"You think about doing that with me?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

"I did, obviously, when we first met," I replied. "But once you told me what had happened to you, I only saw you as a friend. That's not to say I don't find you attractive because I do, but given what I know about you, it wouldn't be right to think about you that way."

"But you just asked if I wanted to be your girlfriend..." she protested. "And you said it's something couples do."

"Violet," I said gently, "do you think I would ever intentionally do anything to hurt you?"

"No," she said. "I know you want to protect me and help me."

"Then I hope you'll understand that I asked because I care about you. I've made mistakes in the past where I should have said something and didn't, and I didn't want to make those same mistakes again."

"Bev?"

"Yes. I didn't talk to her about some very important things, and it made a complete mess of our relationship. I knew this would be a difficult subject for you to discuss, but I couldn't repeat my past errors."

"I don't know what to do," Violet said.

"And that's OK," I replied. "I'm not involved with anyone in a way that would change things between you and me, and I don't expect to be before the end of the semester. You have plenty of time to think about it, and if you think it would help, see a different counselor. For now, we can just continue the way things have been since the semester started.

"Thank you," Violet said, sounding relieved.

The ball was now squarely in her court, and all I could do was wait and see. That gave me time to work with the advice Shelly had given me. I'd done the first thing -- speak with Violet, or at least broached the subject. I'd see Keiko on Thursday evening and Deanna on Friday and discuss each of them moving into the house. Then, it was a matter of seeing how things went with Haley and Teri and considering if I should ask Anna out, despite my concerns about her working at Spurgeon.

Violet and I finished our meal, I helped clean up, and then the two of us headed to class at Circle. I arrived before Troy and Teri, who walked in just before the professor began his lecture, so other than a quick greeting, we didn't speak. When class ended, I asked Teri about Saturday.

"Pick me up at noon on Saturday, we'll have lunch at Ricobene's. Did you ever see Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan?"

"No."

"It's showing at the old theatre in Downer's Grove if you want to see it."

"Sure."

"Cool. We can see the matinée, then have dinner at TGI Friday's, not too far from the theatre."

"I've been to both," I replied. "That sounds like a good plan."

We said goodnight, and I headed to the diner to meet Violet for our usual pie and coffee. Afterwards, I walked her home, received the usual light hug and kiss on the cheek, and once she was safely inside the house, I headed home.

February 24, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Thursday was a mostly typical day in the office, though I saw the first serious signs of what I felt was going to be a tsunami of sales of gold and silver. At the end of the day, silver was down over $1 per ounce from the previous week and was trading at $13.54. Gold was down just over $25 per ounce from the previous week and was trading at $475.00 per ounce.

If I closed out the positions immediately, in after-hours trading, taking into account the cost of my puts and the contract price, I'd make just under $25,000 on silver and about $5000 on gold. That would be a decent profit, but I wanted more, so I intended to ride the price down to around $11 per ounce for silver and $410 per ounce for gold and called Mr. Steinem to put in my limit order for where I'd purchase calls to cover the puts I'd sold.

At those prices, I'd clear around $75,000 on silver and $18,000 on gold for my Cincinnatus fund, putting its overall value at close to six million with the money Mr. Spurgeon had entrusted to me. I hadn't yet decided how to invest those funds, so they were in Treasuries, locking in 9% interest until I decided how to allocate them.

"Looks like you got it right," Tony said as we left the office together at 5:00pm.

"Yes, but that's it for my big scores," I replied. "I haven't found anything that big or even close. I did purchase shares in Wal-Mart, Hasbro, The Gap, International Rectifier, Bally Manufacturing, and Wieboldt stores and took a modest short position in Mattel, all based on your recommendations."

"All of those should turn you a tidy profit," he replied. "But those are my big wins for the year. Obviously, opportunities will present themselves, but it's mostly going to be arbitrage similar to what you do with currencies where we make small percentages which add up."

"True," I agreed as we got into the elevator. "I am watching Zaire and the Philippines, as both currencies are weak and the governments are unstable. I'm also concerned about the Middle East, but so is everyone else. And, of course, just about any financial crisis could set off another selloff in precious metals. How are bonds?"

"Not much going on, really, because interest rates are so high, though they're coming down towards historical levels. I think we'll see an increase in corporate debt offerings as the year progresses. I did hear that someone is coming for an interview next week for the fixed-income analyst position."

"I heard that, too, but no details."

"A hundred bucks says it's a guy," Tony said as we got out of the elevator on the ground floor.

"No bet!" I replied. "See you tomorrow!"

He headed for the L, and I went to the parking garage to retrieve my car. I drove to Violet's house, and we had a nice dinner. She didn't raise the subject of a relationship, so I didn't, and after dinner, we went to class, meeting for dessert afterwards. I received my usual hug and kiss on the cheek, then, instead of driving directly home, I swung by Loyola to pick up Keiko, who would be spending the night.

"Were you still interested in moving into my new house?" I asked after Keiko had climbed into the car.

"Yes! May I?"

"Yes. Just so you know, other friends will move in as well -- Jack and Kristy, who'll share a room, and Deanna, an artist friend, who'll use the attic room as a studio as well as a bedroom. And, of course, Bianca and Shelly."

"It's your house, so that's up to you! How much is the rent?"

"$75 a month, plus utilities and groceries."

"That's so much cheaper than the dorm at Loyola! That will make my parents happy!"

"What about the fact you're living in my house?"

"I'll have my own room, but even if I moved into your bedroom, they would not object. Buddhism and Shinto do not have the hangups about sex that Christians and Muslims do. In modern times, there is no shame in not being a virgin on one's wedding night. I'm sure they will want to see the house, but I'm also sure they won't object."

"You'll be able to move in anytime after April 1st," I replied. "Though I suspect you'll stay in the dorms until the semester ends, as it's already paid."

"Officially, yes, though I'll probably move in as soon as I'm able. Is there a cooking schedule or anything like that?"

"No. For chores, we all just do them as they're needed. Bianca and Shelly do most of the cooking because they're home before I am, and this semester, I'm not home much for dinner because I'm taking classes. We will have to make a schedule for the washer and dryer with seven people in the house."

"Yes, of course, and we should make a schedule for meals and cooking because I want to help. And perhaps one for your bed as well!"

I laughed, "And the true reason you want to move in becomes clear!"

"I never hid that!" Keiko said mirthfully. "I told you moving into your bedroom would be preferable, but I can share, at least until you're ready to choose, and I am positive a Japanese girl will win hands down over anyone else!"

"You're that confident?"

"Well, I know you like Oriental girls because you said so, I'm an excellent cook, and I please you in bed!"

"That's a good start," I replied with a grin.

"We get along very well, you're an expert lover, and I think we'd have cute kids!"

"That's putting the cart before the horse, don't you think?"

"Well, we're already sending the correct signals to the stork!"

I laughed, "I hope you don't mind if that message is lost in transmission!"

Keiko laughed, "It would be very inconvenient while I was going to school, but not a disgrace the way it would be for some."

"But you'd expect to marry if that were to happen?"

"Yes, and please do not think I'm plotting anything! It was just a silly comment. I plan to marry before I have a child, but sometimes nature has different ideas. I won't stop taking my pills without an agreement that it would be OK to get pregnant, and as I said, that's years away. I'm positive you agree."

"You're absolutely right."

"May I ask a private question?"

"You may, and you don't need to ask if you may ask. If I'm unable to answer for some reason, I'll tell you."

"Are you intimate with Bianca and Shelly?" Keiko asked.

"I'll answer because they don't hide it -- yes, I am. Is that a problem?"

"No, you're free to do as you please until such time as you promise not to be with anyone else."

"That is basically my rule as well."

"At your house, I wish to bathe you and pleasure you."

"I'd like that. And I want to pleasure you as well."

"I'd expect nothing less!"

February 25, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Friday morning, after a joint shower and breakfast, I took Keiko back to Loyola, then headed for the office. The first thing I did was check the London gold and silver volumes and quotes, and I was happy to see the prices continuing to decline. Given silver was 'limit down', meaning no lower bids would be accepted until Monday in London, I was sure that the price would continue to drop well into the next week, if not longer.

I completed my morning analyst report and wasn't surprised when, just after 8:00am, Cheryl called to say Mr. Spurgeon wanted to see me. I went right up, positive I knew why he was summoning me -- the gold and silver trades had paid off, and he was going to confirm that he'd allow me to use his private jet to fly to Saint Martin once I had my passport.

"Two for two, Kane," he said. "Once you have your passport, Cheryl will make the arrangements for you to go to Saint Martin. Take Anna if you want; Murray is positive she'll say 'yes' if you ask her."

I didn't like them talking about me behind my back, but I also knew they had to do that to evaluate my performance. That said, they didn't need to stick their noses where they didn't belong.

"I'll take that under advisement," I said.

"If you're worried about her working here, that's not a concern."

The way he said that made me wonder if Mr. Matheson was considering replacing her because she wouldn't put out for him, something I was aware annoyed him. He'd misjudged when he'd hired a Swedish girl, thinking they were 'easy', but Anna, at lunch the day before, had explained that while Swedes were free with their physical intimacy, they were discriminating and did not tolerate giving 'sexual favors' to the boss.

"I'm focused on making you money," I said. "Everything else takes a back seat to that. No distractions."

Noel Spurgeon laughed, "That's a good attitude, but all of us in this industry need stress relief! Anyway, what's your next play?"

"Still working on that," I replied. "Depending on how far gold and silver fall, there may be another opportunity later in the year for a similar bet, especially if interest rates continue to fall and the economy picks up steam. But that would be in the Fall. In the near term, it's mostly the usual arbitrage in currencies. In equities, I have some long positions I expect to pay off handsomely, but that's months down the road."

"Find me another big win, Kane!"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Dismissed."

I left his office wondering if my good fortune was actually going to be an albatross around my neck. I'd found two extremely profitable plays and one of them was truly a black swan, which I'd be unlikely to replicate any time soon. While stocks weren't my main area of focus, I felt that was where I needed to look, especially in the technology sector, which I felt would have tremendous growth now that the concept of personal computers had been validated by IBM.

The rest of the morning was typical, I ate my lunch at my desk, and then Anna and I went to the gym for our thrice-weekly workouts. One thing was certain -- I'd never tire of watching Anna work out, and I caught myself wondering what she looked like when she showered after our time in the gym. I knew my attraction to her was chipping away at my resolve about asking her out, and I was seriously considering Noel Spurgeon's suggestion.

After lunch, I shoved those fantasies into the deep recesses of my brain so that I could focus on my discussion of Nexis with Mr. Matheson. He had reviewed my analysis, and after our conversation, he endorsed my suggestion that we get a single workstation connected to the system that Tony and I could all share, as could the new fixed-income analyst when he was hired. Mr. Matheson promised to discuss it with Mr. Spurgeon at their Monday one-on-one and was confident Mr. Spurgeon would approve. I called Johan Maus, the pre-sales engineer, to let him know the outcome and promised to call him as soon as I had authorization for the system.

At the end of the day, both silver and gold had closed down significantly and were approaching my price targets. I happily updated my portfolio on my Apple, then left the office to meet Jack, Kristy, and Deanna for our double date. We met in the lobby and, after a brief discussion, decided on dinner at the West Loop Café and then a jazz concert at Circle. After the concert, Jack and Kristy took the L to his place, and Deanna and I got into my car for the drive to Rogers Park.

"If you're interested in the attic room in my new house for a combination studio and bedroom, you're welcome to move in any time after April 1st."

"How much is the rent?"

"$75 a month plus utilities and food."

"That's it?"

"That's it. Bianca and Shelly will obviously be there, and you know Jack and Kristy are moving in, as is another girl, Keiko."

"Her own room? Or with you?"

"Her own room."

"Either way, I wouldn't say 'no', but a studio, a bed, and sex are better than just a studio and a bed!"

"Just let me know when you're ready to move in."

"If it's OK, I'll set up the studio right away and probably split my time until the semester ends."

"Do you have to clear it with anyone?"

"No. I make enough from my job at Venice Café to cover the rent and food, and my scholarship provides a small stipend in lieu of room and board if I don't live in the dorms."

"Sounds like we have a deal," I said.

"We do. The only downside was a friend of mine from Cincinnati, Cecilia, was accepted, and she'd asked to room with me, but she'd understand. She's actually visiting the weekend before Easter. OK, to bring her to the housewarming party?"

"Absolutely."

"Was there anything specific you wanted to do tonight?" Deanna asked.

"Anything you want!" I chuckled.

"Careful!" she teased. "I'm friends with Sophie and Ivy!"

I chuckled, "OK, almost anything you want, with a veto over anything too extreme."

"Sixty-nine, fuck hard, cum in my mouth, repeat until exhausted?"

"No veto!"

"Didn't think so!" Deanna exclaimed.

February 26, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I hadn't looked at the mail when Deanna and I had arrived at the house, and Shelly and Bianca were out, so I didn't find the envelope with my new VISA card until Saturday morning when Deanna and I went downstairs for a late breakfast. I also saw a note that Beth had called, with a notation to call her back on Sunday morning around 10:00am. That made sense, as Saturdays were her family day.

I drove Deanna back to her dorm, then headed to Bridgeport to pick up Teri for our date. She greeted me at the door with a quick hug, called 'goodbye' to Mom, then we walked to my car for the drive to Ricobene's.

"Is this date going to be as strange as the first one?" she asked as I pulled away from the curb.

"Probably not," I chuckled. "We got the strange out of the way last weekend."

"Don't be so sure!" Teri declared. "My turn to be blunt and possibly get way ahead of where we are."

"Didn't you object to that last time?"

"Yes, but you changed the ground rules! Here's my question -- do you expect to sleep with me before we get married?"

"Talk about a loaded question!" I chuckled. "Dear Jonathan, please step into this minefield! Good luck! I hope you survive!"

Teri laughed, then prompted me with, "And?"

"First, is it just me, or did that question assume we're going to marry?"

"It's a hypothetical," Teri countered, "so perhaps I should have said 'would' instead of 'do'. So, I'll rephrase -- would you expect to sleep with me before we get married?"

"Expect to? No. Want to? Yes, I would. First, I personally put no intrinsic value on being a virgin or not, though I know a lot of people do, which they're free to do, of course. Second, I think it's an important part of a relationship, and being compatible is important."

"Did you seriously just suggest I wouldn't be good in bed?" Teri asked.

"No, but I can see how you could take it that way."

"How else could I take it? I'm not a pair of shoes you try on only to decide you don't like them. Seriously, how hard can it be if teenage boys can figure out how to do it even before they've had sex ed? Honestly, if you're truly worried I won't be good enough in bed, then you'll never get a chance to find out."

"Sorry," I said. "I deserved that because I see your point."

"If there's some specific thing you like, tell me, and I'll tell you straight up if it's on or off the table. I guarantee I can learn to do anything you can learn to do, and being a girl, do it better!"

I laughed, "You are pretty sure of yourself."

"Right, because you aren't at all sure of yourself!"

"Guilty as charged."

"I bet you dollars to doughnuts that the REAL question you have is if I'll give you a blowjob! That's what EVERY single guy I've ever dated has been angling for, but none has succeeded because if I'm going to do that, I have to be absolutely sure the guy is worth it."

"Honestly," I replied, "I didn't have anything specific in mind. It's just that as I see it, it's one piece of a larger puzzle that has to be assembled."

"Let me ask you this, and no names or numbers or anything, but have you ever had bad sex? With anyone?"

"No," I admitted, though Marcia might be the exception, but I classified it as 'incompatible' because of her approach to sex.

"So in your entire sample size, which I'm going to wager is greater than one, you've never run into the situation, but you still think it's a requirement?"

"I may have been mistaken in my thinking."

"May?"

"I have seen the error of my ways," I said.

"Get used to saying that!" Teri exclaimed. "It's going to happen a lot!"

XVI. Touché

February 26, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Teri had created something of a conundrum for me, and one that would be totally tacky to express to her. A committed relationship with her would mean a lengthy period without sex, and that just didn't work for me. It wasn't that I couldn't do it, but that I didn't want to. There would have to be something about Teri that was so far beyond what I saw in girls like Keiko or Deanna for me to contemplate that kind of situation. That meant my correct course of action was to continue to see her, at least for a time, to find out if she was that special.

The situation with Teri was different from the situation with Violet because, as far as I could tell, Violet didn't have a hangup about pre-marital sex, but about sex in general, and if she got past that, our relationship would likely become physical in short order. And that was, in my mind, something that could and would be discussed if Violet wanted to get involved with me.

"You're considering not asking me out again if I won't have sex before my wedding night, aren't you?"

"No," I replied. "I simply considered the ramifications of what you said, not what I'd do about it. But let me turn the tables -- what would you say or do if I said that I would only ask you to marry me after we'd had sex?"

"I'd be offended!" she declared.

"But I'm not supposed to be offended by you saying, in effect, your values override mine?"

"Are you seriously suggesting that you have some moral or spiritual or ethical imperative to have sex with a girl before you marry?"

"No, but you and I clearly do not put the same value on sex, and given there's no compromise available, one value has to win out over the other."

"And you think yours should win on every issue."

"I don't think that's accurate," I replied. "I would say that I would want to find someone who was compatible across the board, with neither of us needing to make major compromises. Does it truly make sense to marry someone with whom you have significant differences of opinion on things which are important to both?"

"Church?"

"For one," I replied. "Sex, obviously."

"Not so obvious!" Teri protested. "Nobody else is bound by my decision, and I didn't get on your case for having had sex. In fact, I bet we mostly agree with one specific exception. I'm not a moral busybody and I'm not complaining about the fact that you have what I'm going to gather is extensive experience. And I'm no prude, either. I just won't spread my legs because some random guy wants me to. If you can't deal with THAT, then you should probably just take me home."

"If we're being brutally honest..."

"We are," Teri interrupted.

"I was thinking that I didn't consider waiting until marriage as something I would do, but if you were special enough, I'd consider it. I don't know the answer to that question."

"Special enough?"

"If you were the person I felt was the best possible life partner, that could change my opinion on the matter."

"Let me get this straight -- a girl who puts out has a better chance than one who doesn't? Why is sex before marriage so important to you?"

"I could ask the same question about the opposite," I replied. "Why is it so important to you to not do it before you're married?"

"Did you seriously just imply that it's wrong to want to wait?"

"No. We're not talking about right or wrong but about compatible views. I know you said you agree with me for the most part, but, and I know this is going to sound bad, but I'm going to say it anyway -- what makes YOU so special?"

"Wow!" Teri said, shaking her head. "Is sex SO meaningless to you that it's no different from any other thing you do?"

"From my perspective, it's normal, natural biological function necessary to continue the human race. It's fun, and it feels good. I don't subscribe to any religion and don't believe there are any gods, but think about what I just said. Some god creates human beings, designs them with a strong sex drive, makes it feel really good, and makes it necessary to continue the human race, but then says, 'You can only do it when I approve with someone I approve'.

"Would you accept that from your dad? Or, what would you think of a parent who allowed their kid to buy candy but then locked it in a display case in the kid's room and told them they could eventually have it, so long as they followed a set of rules for the rest of their lives AND had to marry someone before they could have it?"

"You're comparing God and my dad?"

"Only to show that you'd never accept the kind of control you give to your god from your dad, and similarly, we'd call your god's behavior evil, or at least mean-spirited, if it were done by any parent. I'm sure you'll think it's crass, but a parent who gives a kid a toy but says they can't play with it for a decade or longer seems like a bad parent to me."

"Unreal," Teri said.

"Maybe, but my position is logical and doesn't depend on the opinions of old men in robes interpreting a collection of stories and letters written roughly two thousand years ago reflecting the views of one nomad in the Middle East through the eyes of the followers of a radical preacher. Well, less time if you follow the Muslim variation, more if you follow the Jewish one.

"I get the 'radical preacher' is Jesus, but one nomad?"

"Abraham," I replied. "Judaism, Christianity, and Islam all claim him as their original believer in one way or another. That's why they're called 'Abrahamic' faiths. Most of his fellow travelers are really hung up on sex and treating women as somehow inferior to men. Sure, there are variations, but in the end, religious leaders have an unhealthy interest in what I do and with whom I do it. And it's worse for women."

"And you think that's my reason? Because God said so?"

"It might not be the proximate cause," I replied, "but I strongly suspect that it's the root cause. Ultimately, the source of your belief is external, and I bet it can be traced back to religion, whereas the source of my belief system is internal. I absolutely take all evidence available to me into account, but in the end, it's because I think it's right, not because someone else thinks it's right."

"Did you miss what I said last time about not agreeing with the Pope?"

"On the topic of birth control," I replied. "You did make a point about going to church because it's what Irish Catholics do and that you aren't religious, and yet you seem to hold some religious views that are not entirely compatible with my views."

"On one specific topic. And I'd say it's more cultural than anything."

"Which culture?" I asked slyly.'

"Irish, of course."

"Irish Catholic," I countered. "So, the ultimate source is exactly what I suggested -- old men in robes with ancient books who had a fetish for virginity and a desire to control people, especially women."

"And you'd be OK with marrying someone who slept with dozens of guys?"

"I'm no hypocrite," I replied. "I also think I have a different perspective because my mom got pregnant with me at sixteen and wasn't married. Some people, again, mostly followers of Abraham's god, think I'm a 'bastard' and somehow less worthy than someone whose parents were married when they were conceived. I had no control over that, and to, in effect, blame me for the circumstances of my birth is just wrong. Nobody should care that my mom and my dad weren't married, but they do because some random guy in the Middle East thousands of years ago said that it was a bad thing."

"I guess I hadn't thought about that, but you're right about the stigma of unwed mothers and kids born out of wedlock."

"Also, I am not, despite how it might appear, trying to talk you into changing your mind. I am, on the other hand, trying to get you to see my point and why I have difficulty with your position. You're free to hold it, obviously, and free to act on it, but I'm equally free to react to your beliefs and actions. I also want to point out that you've contradictorily accused me of both putting no value on sex and also of making it a primary consideration.

"Those two positions are logically inconsistent, and I don't think they accurately describe my approach to sex, pre-marital or otherwise. In a sense, sex is comparable to a tool, and it can be used positively or negatively. A hammer can be used to drive a nail or crush someone's skull. The hammer is completely neutral and amoral; it's the user who is moral or immoral. And in Abraham's system, that's true about sex, too."

"You mean adultery being bad and monogamy being good?"

"Yes, though from the little I know, monogamy wasn't Abraham's strong suit! Nor David's or Solomon's. But that kind of exhausts my knowledge, and I couldn't provide any details other than having read they didn't follow the rules laid out in the books. In other words, they were hypocrites."

"Sinful is the word that is used."

"Can you show me an authoritative list of rules on which Christians, Jews, and Muslims all agree? I mean, after all, they all claim to follow the same god."

"I'm sure you know the answer to that."

"Obviously, which is why I asked it. And you know the answer. I'm absolutely OK if you adopt those rules, so long as they only apply to you and don't affect me. But that also means that if I don't agree with the rules, we have a conflict, and unless it can be resolved, there isn't much chance of a future together."

"You're awfully blunt. Are you like this with all the girls you ask out?"

"So far, only practicing Catholics," I replied.

"Why just them?"

"Because you can't swing a dead cat in Chicago without hitting a practicing Catholic."

"And it's always about pre-marital sex, right?"

"Actually, no. One thing I've found is that quite a few practicing Catholics don't listen to the Pope about birth control or pre-marital sex! It's about things like going to church, church weddings, having kids baptized, and so on. As soon as any of those things are mentioned, I address them right away so as not to have any misunderstandings or misinterpretations. And that stems from a fairly bad ending to a relationship not long after I moved here."

"She wouldn't put out?"

"It wasn't that, but about her faith and my lack of faith, and I felt there was no way to meet in the middle, so to speak, without one of us completely giving up our worldview. I confirmed that when, later, I had a detailed discussion with another Catholic girl about what was necessary for a wedding in a Catholic church, and I concluded I couldn't take the necessary steps."

"I actually don't know what they are."

"The bottom line is committing to not interfere in the religious upbringing of any kids, including a promise not to contradict Catholic teachings on any subject and a promise that the kids would regularly attend church, go to confession, and so on. I couldn't agree to being silenced in that way, nor commit to requiring my kids to go to church, and I won't make a phony promise, so no church wedding for me."

"You can't compromise at all?"

"I can," I replied. "Your church can't! And if you think about it, what actual middle ground is there? What happens when you teach the kids Catholic dogma, and I say it's all a load of crap? How do you think that's going to work out?"

"Not well," Teri admitted.

"Which is why I try to get it all out onto the table as soon as I sense it might be a concern. To be frank, I haven't had any trouble with Buddhists, Hindus, or adherents of Shinto. I don't know any Muslims, and the one Jewish girl I know follows a more liberal form of Judaism."

"In other words, they'll sleep with you."

I chuckled, "One of the most beautiful girls I know is a Hindu, and she won't sleep with me. She wouldn't even go out with me, mainly because I'm irreligious and not spiritual in any way. We're close friends, though, and she's a confidante and gives me great advice and has helped me flesh out my personal philosophy."

"Based on what?"

"Maximising my happiness and not hurting anyone."

"What if what makes you happy hurts someone else?"

"Then it wouldn't actually make me happy," I replied. "Neither tenet is absolute, though sometimes it is a zero-sum game, even if I'd prefer it wasn't. But then the goal is to derive the maximum happiness relative to doing minimal harm."

"But how do you decide, right or wrong?"

"If it hurts someone else needlessly, it's always wrong. If it makes me happy without harming someone, it's always right. Everything else depends."

"Situational ethics?"

"I've heard that phrase used as a condemnation, but in reality, everyone engages in situational ethics. Lying is wrong, correct?"

"Yes."

"Lying to the Nazis about Jews hiding in your house is right, correct?"

"I don't think I could possibly say that it would be wrong. I could never turn in Anne Frank."

"The Dutch girl, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you see my point? And yes, I used an extreme because those are almost always obvious. It's when competing values aren't so extreme that I have to say that it depends on the situation. And, once you admit it's OK to lie to the Nazis about Jews you're hiding, you have to allow for other situations where it's OK to lie. Situational ethics rule the day."

"I see your point. So you just do whatever you want?"

"Everyone does! I just don't beat myself up for breaking some arbitrary set of rules over which I have no control and no input and which are allegedly the will of an all-powerful ruler of the universe who will punish even minor transgressions with eternal torture."

"Did you ever believe in God?"

"No. My mom read Bible stories to me when I was a toddler, but she never took me to church, and I never thought of those stories as anything more than just stories. Later, when I learned about Greek and Norse mythology, I put the stories in the same category."

"Your mom believed in God?"

"I'd say right up until she went to bed with my dad; it just took several years to un-brainwash herself."

"Wow! You really believe that religious people are brainwashed?"

"If you've only ever been taught one thing and are told to not think critically about it, I'd say that's strong evidence, whether it's religion, politics, or whatever. Think about what happens to people who dissent or who flout the rules. They're kicked out of the church, which was what happened to my mom, or burned at the stake, or, in the distant past, nailed to a cross. If the teaching is so obvious and so right, why suppress dissent?"

"You are really working hard to get into my panties!" Teri said.

"And if you think that's the reason, you're mistaken."

"Am I?" Teri asked. "If God is the root cause of my desire to remain a virgin until I marry, wanting to have sex is the root cause of you asking me out. I mean, you didn't ask me out just to be platonic friends, right?"

"Touché. But all that does is show the potential of falling into a reducto ad absurdum fallacy. In a sense, you could say that asking someone out is expressing an intent to marry them eventually because a date is the first step on that path. The difference is that, in your case, we're discussing the underlying philosophical differences we have about sex and the root of those differences. I can't imagine you'd disagree that it has to do with being Catholic, even if it was filtered through Irish culture."

We arrived at Ricobene's but didn't get out of the car right away.

"You're right about Irish Catholic culture," Teri admitted.

"Which creates an impasse, I think."

"Does it? Think about what I said and what the one difference you've identified is."

"You mean about going to church but not being religious?"

"Yes. And what I either said clearly or implied about sex."

I thought about it for a moment, then nodded.

"It's not about anything other than timing."

"Exactly. To be blunt, I'm positive I'll like sex and will want to do it a lot. I have an open mind, so that's not a concern unless you're into something truly weird."

"Not that I'm aware of," I chuckled.

"How could you not be aware?"

"Because you didn't define 'truly weird'! I know just enough about sexuality to know that 'weird' is very subjective and different people would classify different things as 'weird'."

"A reasonable point. What about 'unconventional'?"

"Defined how and by whom?" I asked.

"Oh, for Pete's sake!" Teri said, laughing. "Oral sex is fine, intercourse is fine, and variations on the theme. OK?"

I chuckled, "I suspect there might be variants of which you aren't aware."

"You're probably right, but I think you get my drift and are being difficult on purpose."

"Of course I am!"

"And to cover the other issues, a church wedding would make my parents happy, but isn't important to me. That eliminates any question of making promises you couldn't keep. If you don't object to me going to church when I feel like it, having any kids baptized, and taking them to church, we don't have a problem. And yes, that means you get equal time. Is the timing that important? So important that you have to get me into bed before you'd consider marrying me?"

"You have the cart WAY before the horse! But taking it as a hypothetical, I see your point."

"And?"

"I'm willing to continue on the path, though no promises."

"Which is exactly why I won't go to bed with you!"

"Point taken. Shall we go inside and eat?"

"Yes."

February 27, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

The remainder of my date with Teri had been far less adversarial, and I'd very much enjoyed seeing The Wrath of Khan as well as the meal at TGI Friday's before the movie. After I'd driven Teri home to Bridgeport, I'd returned to an empty house, spent the evening reading, and had gone to bed before Shelly and Bianca had arrived home.

"How was your date?" Shelly asked when she and Bianca came downstairs just before 10:00am on Sunday morning.

"Interesting," I replied. "I'll see her again next Saturday."

"I half expected her to be here this morning."

"We're not at that point," I replied.

"Must be serious!" Shelly teased.

"No, it's just different from the girls who aren't looking for a long-term relationship."

"Then explain Keiko, Deanna, and others who want to be your girlfriend."

"They're also content to just be fuck friends," Bianca interjected. "I'm going to guess Teri isn't."

I considered what I could and couldn't say, and decided I could at least lay out the general point.

"I think it's best to say that I find relationships with people who regularly attend church to be difficult. That's true no matter where they fall on the spectrum of belief. You both know what happened with Rachel and the struggles Lily and I had. This is neither of those, but I see warning flags whenever someone makes a point of being observant in some way and going to church. That makes me cautious because it's a fundamental difference where there aren't many available compromises. That said, I'm not writing Teri off at this point, just being careful."

"I have to ask why?" Shelly said. "I mean, it's not like you're lacking for company or even girls who you might consider as potential mates."

"Including you!" I replied with a grin.

"Despite my self-interest, that's not my point, and I think you know that. You complain about having so little time, so why waste time in a situation where you're unlikely to succeed? At work, you judge the chance of success before you do anything important, right?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"As you should. And if your chances of success are small, why use your limited resources? Or do you want to fuck the hot, red-haired, green-eyed Irish chick that badly?"

Even if I did, it wasn't going to occur any time soon unless I took her to Las Vegas to get married, and that was not going to happen!

"I admit I'm attracted to her, but it's also the case that she challenges my thinking, similar to the way Anala, you, and Bianca do. If that weren't the case, I probably wouldn't have asked her on a second date. We'll see how things go, just as I will with Haley. And who knows, maybe I do end up with Keiko or Deanna or you."

"Harem, Jonathan!" Bianca exclaimed. "Harem!"

I chuckled, "With half a dozen bisexual girls we share?"

"Sold!" Bianca exclaimed.

"That was a question, not an offer!" I countered.

"I bet you anything you care to wager, I could find those six girls before I graduate!"

"I don't doubt it! I'm still leaning towards a traditional marriage."

"Leaning! Before you were certain."

"Yeah, yeah," I chuckled. "If you'll excuse me, I do need to call Beth."

I went to the kitchen, picked up the handset, and dialed Beth's number. A woman answered, who I assumed was Beth's mom, and she called Beth to the phone.

"Hi, Jonathan!" she exclaimed. "Are you free today?"

"I'm easy, but not cheap!" I replied.

Beth laughed, "Me, too! How about a mid-afternoon meal at Eli's The Place for Steak? Wear a suit, I'll wear a dress, we'll eat in style, then go back to your place, take off the suit and dress, and fuck each other silly!"

"Sounds like a good plan to me! Are you staying, or do I need to take you home?"

"I'll bring a bag, and you can drop me at work in the morning if that's OK."

"It is. What time should I pick you up?"

"How about 2:00pm?"

"Sounds good. See you then."

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, poured myself some coffee, then went to the great room to hang out with Bianca and Shelly.

"There's something we want to do before Keiko, Deanna, Jack, and Kristy move into the new house," Bianca said.

"What's that?"

"The three of us christen the house by fucking in every room!"

"That's going to take more than a day," I chuckled. "There are twelve rooms, depending on how you count the basement, and if you include bathrooms, that's fifteen!"

"And your point is?" Shelly asked. "So what if it takes two or three days?"

"Dibs on being fucked on the bar!" Bianca exclaimed.

"Washing machine on the spin cycle!" Shelly declared.

"I mean, if we're going that far, then why not the garage and backyard?" I teased.

"Oooh, the backseat of the car!" Bianca exclaimed. "I'm in!"

"And the yard could work," Shelly said. "There's a spot in the trees where nobody could see because of the fence, garage, and house."

"I might be a bit cold at the end of March," I countered.

"Not for long!" Bianca declared, licking her lips.

"So long as we don't risk being arrested, I'm certainly game."

"Awesome!" Shelly declared.

"I'm meeting Beth for mid-afternoon dinner, and then we're coming back here," I said.

"Is she as much fun as she sounds?" Bianca asked.

"Yes! And I need to call my mom, do some things around the house, then shower and dress for dinner."

I went up to my room to have some privacy to call my mom and dialed her number.

"Hi, Jonathan! How are you?"

"Things are going great," I replied. "Well, except for Bev, but I can't do much about that at the moment."

"I had coffee with Glen yesterday," Mom said.

"And?"

"He asked me to put him in touch with Bev's attorney."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," I said. "I don't think she wants to hear from him."

"Not to get in touch with her, but to arrange to send Bev child support for Heather."

"Again, I'm not sure that's a good idea. He'd want to see Heather eventually, right?"

"He did say that, but he also said he understands why Bev would be so upset. He really does want to take responsibility for his actions."

"Did you give him the information?"

"No. First, I don't have it, and I obviously couldn't ask the Newtons. Second, I wanted to run it by you."

"I did encourage Bev to get in touch with the attorney and ask him to talk to Glen, and she refused. I think it might upset Bev, and that's the last thing I want to do."

"You know I'm speaking from experience, but it's tough to be a single mom, and I get the drift Bev's still giving you the cold shoulder."

"She is. I do have an idea of a part measure, though I'm not sure Glen would go for it."

"What's that?" Mom asked.

"If he did contact the attorney and arrange to pay back what the state advanced to Bev against collecting from Bob. All the attorney has to say is that he resolved the problem, and Bev doesn't have to pay it back. I think that might work, though Bev will be suspicious I had something to do with it. I could deny paying the money she owed, but I'm not sure she'd believe me at this point, and I don't know if the attorney would be willing to engage in subterfuge or if he even could without risking his law license."

"I think you should speak to Bev and try to convince her to take the money. It will make things much easier."

"Yes, and in her mind, obligates her to see Glen and allow him to see Heather, even if Glen says there are no strings attached, which we all know there would be, even if officially there weren't, if you catch my drift."

"I do. Will you speak with her?"

"I'm not supposed to call her, but I'm willing to try."

"Encourage her to get in touch with her parents," Mom suggested. "They're still frantic, and I'm reasonably certain Mr. Newton hired a private investigator."

"That is not going to go over well," I said. "If they try to see her, she's likely to run further away and not have any contact with anyone, including me. It's touch-and-go as it is."

"I don't believe they're thinking clearly, but I can't imagine I would if you had run away and not let me know where you were going, not to mention taking my grandchild with you."

"I have to think about what to say to her because if I say the wrong thing, she might never speak to me again or might decide to run again, and this time not tell me where she's going. May I ask about you and Glen?"

"I respect his desire to do the right thing, and I understand why he said nothing originally and why he confessed. I'm not sure that's enough to get past the idea of a teacher sleeping with a student."

"I understand, though if I make inferences from what Bev said, it didn't happen while she was taking his class. I'm not sure if that matters to you or that she was over the age of consent. I think I'd cut him some slack, but I'm not you, so what I think doesn't much matter."

"I value your input, Jonathan, and as you do with my advice, I'll consider it but not necessarily follow it. How is work?"

"I correctly predicted the devaluation of a currency and a decrease in the price of gold and silver and made the firm a significant amount of money."

"And that means you made money, too, right?"

"Yes. Mr. Spurgeon was very happy and compensated me for it."

"I think you might have made more money in two months than I've made in ten years!"

She wasn't wrong.

"I've done well, but I have to keep doing well. I was already asked for the next big win, and I don't have one at the moment. That's not to say I'm in trouble, just that to move up, I have to prove I can consistently make money."

"I'm confident you can," Mom said. "How is your love life?"

"How is yours?" I asked.

Mom laughed, "Non-existent at the moment, and last time I offered details, you basically stuck your fingers in your ears and went 'na-na-na'!"

I chuckled, "Metaphorically, anyway! I've been on dates with a few different girls, but I'm not ready to be serious with anyone just yet. I suppose the full answer is that when I meet the right girl, I'll know it, and then we'll see if things work, but I'm in no rush."

"What else are you doing besides work and dating?"

"I work out three times a week, and I hang out with my friends. And you know about the new house. How about you?"

"Work, and spending time with some new friends I've made. I also saw an old friend from High School last week. I hadn't seen her in ages."

"Who's that?" I asked. "The only one I ever met was Jennie McGrath, and she was too young to have been in High School with you."

"She was seven, I think, when I got pregnant. It was Nancy Morton, though she married and became Nancy Blanchard. Her husband, who I also knew in High School, died of a heart attack last May. She has a daughter, Kara, who is a real sweetheart but is going through a tough time because of her dad's death and breaking up with her boyfriend. He's actually at school in Chicago, studying computers at IIT."

"Is he from Milford?"

"Yes," Mom said. "How did you know?"

"A friend of mine met him and mentioned him because he's from the same area."

"I also had coffee with Jennie McGrath, well, Sanders. "

"I was at her husband's funeral, then at her wedding," I said, "but I don't know that I saw her after the funeral and before the wedding, and I haven't seen her since."

"Probably not. I only saw her occasionally, oftentimes for a cup of coffee between jobs. I have much more time now that I have the first truly good job in my life."

"I'm happy for you, Mom."

"And I'm happy for you, too."

We said 'goodbye, I hung up, then sat down to contemplate what I should do. I felt I had to call Bev and warn her about the private investigator, but I was concerned she might instantly leave St. Louis, and I'd never hear from her again. But if I didn't, and the investigator found her, which I expected he would, that would happen anyway.

That meant I had to call and hope I could talk her into not running. The problem with that was that once the investigator found her, her parents would almost certainly get into a car and drive to St. Louis, which would cause her to run. In fact, every possible scenario I could come up with resulted in Bev disappearing and me never seeing her again.

That meant I had to find a completely different way. I had one idea, so I picked up the phone and dialed a number I'd known by heart for over fifteen years.

"Newton Residence," Mrs. Newton said when she answered the phone.

"Mrs. Newton, it's Jonathan. Can we talk, please?"

"I'm not mad at you, Jonathan. I know you're doing what Bev wants, just as you have since you two were little."

"Did you and Mr. Newton hire a private investigator to find Bev?"

"Jim spoke with an investigator on Friday."

"Mrs. Newton, if he finds Bev, she's going to run away again, and this time, she won't tell me where she is."

"But we can't just do nothing," Mrs. Newton protested. "And even if I were to agree with you, Jim won't stop until he finds her."

"And then she'll run," I said. "Please, please, try to talk your husband out of trying to find her."

"That's not going to happen, Jonathan," Mrs. Newton said.

"I'm afraid we'll lose her forever," I said. "Try."

"I'm sorry, Jonathan," she said, and I heard the click as she hung up.

I sighed deeply, pressed the switchhook, then dialed the McGill's number in St. Louis. Tammy answered and called Bev to come to the phone.

"Jonny?" she said.

"I know you asked me not to call," I said. "But I have two things I need to tell you. First, Glen spoke to my mom and asked how to get in touch with your attorney so he could send you money."

"I don't want it!" Bev protested.

"I know, and that's what I told my mom. I honestly think you should reconsider because he's not making any demands."

"No."

I felt she was being irrational, but in the end, that was her decision, even if I strongly disagreed.

"That's obviously up to you, and Mom won't provide Glen with Mr. Chojnicki's name and number, but I'm fairly certain Glen could find out simply by going to the Courthouse and asking for the name of the attorney on the case. I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure that's public information."

"I don't want his money. What's the other thing?"

"My mom said your dad hired a private investigator to find you. I called your mom to try to talk her into convincing your dad not to do it, but she said he wouldn't stop, and honestly, I think she agrees with him."

"Why won't everyone just leave me alone?!" Bev whined.

"You are not a whiner, Bev! You were the stronger person growing up!"

"I just want everyone to leave me alone!"

Including me, which was something I would have real difficulty doing. That said, unlike her parents, I would, as Mrs. Newton had said, do what Bev wanted, just as I always had. But that didn't mean I'd give up without a fight or at least saying my piece.

"I know that's what you want, and I don't agree with you, but you're free to decide how to live your life, just as I am. Just don't do anything foolish, Bev."

"You know they'll come here and try to make me go back to Ohio."

"They can't actually do that," I replied. "Well, they could come there, but they can't make you go with them."

"Why won't they just leave me alone?!"

In the end, for the same reason I had called her -- they loved her. The difference was that I was listening to Bev, and, other than the phone calls, which I had felt were necessary, I was doing what she wanted.

"I can't speak for your parents," I said. "But you know I want to help you in whatever way you need."

"I need to be left alone!" she insisted. "I need space, and everyone is trying to suffocate me!"

They weren't, but I understood her feelings because her dad was, in effect, trying to control her life. In my mind, that was at least partly because he didn't see her as an adult, despite the fact that she was over eighteen, had graduated from High School, and had a baby. In a way, that was exactly the opposite of how my mom had treated me growing up -- as an adult from about age fourteen. It had been necessary, given our circumstances, but it seemed to me like the best approach to raising kids.

"I'm sorry if you feel that's what I'm doing," I said. "I felt you needed to know the things I told you, and, well, I love you, Bev."

"I know," she sighed. "But I just can't deal with that now."

"Then I'm going to let you go. Promise you'll call if you need my help."

"If I need your help," she repeated, making it clear that was unlikely despite the fact that I could help her.

There wasn't really anything else for me to say, so after both of us had said 'goodbye', I hung up.

XVII. You «Goyim» Do Everything Differently!

February 27, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I sat in my room for about fifteen minutes, trying to think of some solution to the problem, but I couldn't come up with one. I was, though, curious about how a private investigator would find Bev without recourse to the resources the police and FBI had, including forcing me to answer questions. I decided to call Nelson and ask him.

"Sorry to bother you on a Sunday," I said after he'd answered the call.

"There's no football or baseball, so you aren't really interrupting anything. What's up?"

"Bev's dad hired a private investigator to find her. I was curious how they did their job without having any authority."

"It's the same way debt collectors and bail bondsmen would do what's called 'skip trace'. There are legal, quasi-legal, and illegal methods. The legal ones include pulling a credit report, running a criminal background check, and contacting friends and relatives. Quasi-legal things include going through someone's trash, making pretext calls, and trying to get records which normally would only be released to the individual. Illegal methods include looking in mailboxes or making threats."

"And how often are they successful?"

"Often enough. It's not impossible to hide, but you have to make a serious effort to leave no trace of your identity anywhere, and that means an assumed name, paying cash only, and working for cash. You can't have utilities in your own name, use a credit card, have a driver's license, register a car, or do anything else that leaves a paper trail. And even then, people are found.

"In your case, someone in law enforcement would just call the phone company and get a list of calls you made and received. That's trivial and might not even require a warrant. A PI could do something similar, though they might have to use subterfuge to get it or even break the law. Some PIs will, and some won't; it just depends on the individual.

"Without that, it's mostly just a lot of legwork. You talk to everyone who knows the missing person. That would mean any friends, teachers, or relatives, including ones who moved away. I suspect Bev's parents would provide a list, but an investigator would just need a couple of High School yearbooks and could simply start at 'A' and work their way through to 'Z'. You said Bev was with a friend from High School, right?"

"Yes."

"Between that and the fact she has a job and she has a kid, they'll eventually find her. If the PI is willing to break the law and has the right contacts, it could take days; otherwise, weeks or months, but the odds are she'll be found."

"And there's nothing she can do?"

"No. If the PI finds her, he'll report that to her parents, and they can try to contact her. At that point, if she tells them to leave her alone and they don't listen, she might be able to get some kind of no-contact order based on harassment, but those are hard to get in such situations and basically not worth the paper on which they're written."

"Why is that?"

"Because the police only respond if the order is violated, and even then, it tends to be a low priority. Domestic restraining orders don't actually prevent anything. Most people who violate them do so with ill intent, and by the time the police are involved, it's often too late. If you think about it, the police don't have the resources to actually protect any specific individual, and this might surprise you -- they have no legal duty or obligation to do so."

"Interesting. What would you advise?"

"Honestly? Tell her parents where she is and that she wants no contact with them. If they persist, she'd have to file a complaint with local law enforcement and eventually go to court."

"Why do the investigator's job for him?" I asked.

"Strategy," Nelson said. "If you tell them, you might have enough influence to prevent them from contacting her against her will."

"I can't imagine her dad caring what I think at this point, and telling would doom my relationship with Bev, which is already rocky," I said. "Thanks, I've taken enough of your time."

"It's OK, Jonathan. That's what friends are for."

"Thanks again."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, wondering if the private investigator would contact me. If he did, I'd simply refuse to answer his questions, not because I thought it would make any difference, but because I'd made a promise to Bev. There was nothing more I could do, so I spent the next hour cleaning and doing laundry, then showered, dressed in one of my new suits, and headed to Hyde Park to pick up Beth for our date.

"How are things going at work?" she asked after greeting me with a quick hug and kiss.

"Really well," I replied. "The investments I've made have paid off handsomely, and my bosses are happy."

"I wish my boss would be happy!" Beth declared.

"You work for your grandfather!"

"And he's never satisfied! He's a complete perfectionist, and while I understand why and generally agree, he lets unimportant things bother him too much."

"He is the best custom tailor in the city," I replied.

"And knows it, too! But I didn't ask you out to discuss my grandfather's approach to life!"

"True. I take it business is good?"

"Yes. Thanks for the referrals."

I'd given several cards each to Nelson, Gary, and Pete, as well as Mr. Matheson. I'd also pinned some to the notice board at Jewel and at the dry cleaners. I didn't know which of those had generated the business, but that ultimately didn't matter.

"You're welcome," I replied. "How are things otherwise?"

"My family is all drama, all the time, but I'm used to that."

"My mom was basically the opposite. I just don't see you as a 'drama queen'."

"Because you aren't my husband!" Beth teased.

"You obviously don't have to answer this, and it's not really my business, but are you dating anyone?"

"There are two guys in their early twenties at our synagogue who are interesting, but I wouldn't think about a serious relationship with them before they finished their education."

"What are they studying?"

"One's in law school, the other is in medical school."

"Aren't you concerned they might find someone else?"

"Their loss!" Beth declared. "But I think they're both so focused on school, it's not a problem. And I know how to keep them interested."

I laughed, "I bet!"

"Not that! Fucking them would be a mistake at this point!"

"Is this some Jewish thing I wouldn't understand?"

"No. They're each other's best friend, and if I fucked one, the other would be out of the game. Because of that, it's either both or none, and if I fucked both of them, both would think I'm just in it for sex, and they wouldn't think seriously about the future. It makes sense, if you think about it."

"I suppose I could see how that could create tension if you're not ready to choose."

"Exactly. And when I have a burning need to have my brains fucked out, I can simply make a phone call! You've yet to disappoint or not be available!"

"And if I did?"

"Disappoint? I can't imagine that happening. Not being available? That'll happen eventually, and I have backup options! I'm positive you have more action than you can handle."

"I do have to balance my time and energy," I replied with a silly smile. "And you aren't demanding."

"Not until we get in bed! Then I demand, expect, and deserve orgasms!"

"As you should! Nobody should put up with bad sex."

"Remember what I said about Jewish marriages?" Beth asked, laughing softly.

"In all stereotypes, there is a kernel of truth," I agreed. "But I assumed it was exaggeration, like your comment about 'all drama, all the time'."

"That actually isn't an exaggeration. But for marriage, the stereotype is the wife being uninterested or not caring."

"I can't imagine that being you!"

"Kids change things," Beth said.

"My High School girlfriend was hornier after she had her baby than when we were seeing each other."

"You «goyim» do everything differently!" Beth teased. "Though, at least in your case, you had the equivalent of a bris."

"Another new word," I said.

"In Hebrew, the «brit milah» -- the covenant of circumcision."

"That's one of Abraham's 'gifts' to humanity," I said.

"You sound as if you disagree."

"Let's just say that as an adult male, I have qualms when I think about having part of my dick cut off! The doctor who delivered me convinced my mom, but I suspect her knowledge of male anatomy was strictly limited in 1962."

"Probably. My mom had no real clue about sex until my grandmother spoke to her the day before her wedding. Of course, she married at seventeen, which is totally insane, but wasn't back in the 50s. She got pregnant with my brother either during her honeymoon or right after."

"I'd want to be a couple for a time," I replied.

"Me, too."

"You know, if you just decided it was OK to eat bacon, we'd make a great couple."

Beth laughed, "A nice shortcut for saying give up my Jewish traditions, but I can't do that. And I don't disagree with you about being compatible in basically every other way. And, weirdly, being an atheist isn't an impediment, as being a Jew passes through the mother, not the father. But I couldn't see you accepting all the cultural trappings, even as an atheist."

"Probably not," I replied. "I don't like to be bound by any cultural norms and prefer to do my own thing rather than follow some set of ancient rules."

"Not to start a debate, but there is value in tradition," Beth said. "It connects us with the past and gives us a foundation for our lives, and as strange as it might sound, a path to the future. The traditions and rituals provide stability and are a refuge from the crazy world. Most Jews, except the most conservative orthodox, embrace the future and embrace change in the world, but keep their traditions as a bulwark against the craziness that often comes with change."

"I just don't like being told what to do," I said.

"Nobody tells me to do it, Jonathan. I do it because I want to. There are plenty of Jews who don't follow all the traditions and rituals, but that doesn't make them any less Jewish, at least in my mind. And yes, the rituals are ancient and stem from a society which had a very different view of women, but we've adapted and modernized yet kept the foundational traditions.

"And you don't completely reject social convention or cultural traditions, even though you say you do. I bet you anything that you stand for the National Anthem and remove your hat, that you use appropriate language for a situation, and that you adhere to the norms for behavior at work and in a classroom. Not to mention wearing what amounts to a uniform to work. In the loosest sense, our traditions aren't all that different from those."

"I hadn't considered that, and you're right. When I go to Chicago Stadium to see the Hawks, I take off my hat and stand when they play the Anthem. And I take off my hat when I go into buildings. And yes, I do wear the equivalent of a uniform, the same as my friends who are in professional positions."

"What I'm trying to say is that you shouldn't throw the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak. Don't reject something simply because it's a social convention, even if it has religious origins. I bet you anything you celebrate Christmas, even as an atheist."

"You'd win that bet," I said.

"Why do you celebrate if you aren't a Christian?" Beth asked.

I chuckled, "Because I've always done it for as long as I can remember."

"I believe I've made my point."

"You have, and as usually happens when I'm with you, I learned something about the world and about myself."

"You can pay me back with orgasms!"

"I'm happy to oblige!"

February 28, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Monday morning, after a joint shower and breakfast, I'd driven Beth to her grandfather's tailor shop, then retraced part of my route to the Hancock Center. The very first thing I did after making a fresh pot of coffee was talk to Rich about overnight trading, and based on what he reported, I made a note to call Mr. Steinem to close out my position in gold.

That recommendation also went into my daily analyst report, and I noted that silver still likely had not found what I considered bottom -- a support level that fit with the short volume and futures contracts. Based on my rough estimate, it would be Friday or Monday because of daily price limits. I'd keep an eye on it, but given those price limits, the price couldn't move too far before I could act.

The rest of my report was basically an update from the previous Friday's report, as the world was relatively calm, with just the usual low-intensity conflicts. Venezuela was reeling from the devaluation of the Bolivar, but there wasn't really any play there, and there was literally no market for shorts, long positions would be automatic losers, and futures contracts were trading at such discounts as to likely never be in the money.

Just before 10:00am, my phone rang.

"FX Desk, Kane," I said when I picked up the handset.

"Mr. Kane, my name is Patrick Shaughnessy from Global Security in Cincinnati. Do you have a moment to speak to me?"

"If you're calling to try to locate Bev Newton, I have no information for you."

"According to her parents, you know where she is."

"As I said, Mr. Shaughnessy, I have no information for you. I'm very busy, so I'll say 'goodbye' and ask you not to call again."

I hung up before he could respond. I was under no illusions that he wouldn't find her, but I wanted to be able to tell Bev that I hadn't helped him in any way. There was nothing more to be done, so I returned to my usual work of analyzing the currency and precious metals markets and looking for arbitrage possibilities for the traders.

As usual, I had my lunch at my desk, then joined Anna in the gym for our forty-minute workout. I still hadn't decided what to do about her, but I was leaning towards at least asking her on a date. I decided it was best to wait to see how my date with Haley went on Friday, as well as my third date with Teri on Saturday. Anna, though, had other ideas.

"Would you like to have a drink after work?" she asked as we got into the elevator to return to the office.

"I don't turn twenty-one until November," I said.

"Silly laws! At eighteen, you can buy alcohol in Sweden, though it's expensive because, unlike here, we have «Systembolaget», which is a government monopoly."

"Ohio has state-run liquor stores," I said. "Though you can buy beer and wine in privately owned stores. The other thing is that I have class three nights a week, and I'm busy the other nights this week."

"If you don't want to, just say you aren't interested."

"I am interested," I replied. "And I really am busy, mainly because of class. And I have a concern about dating someone from work."

"I'm not like the other women," Anna said. "You know that."

I nodded, "I know. It's just, well, a concern about rumors and not wanting to mess up either of our jobs."

"I think we're both mature enough to deal with whatever happens as adults, don't you?"

She was nothing like Rachel, though they both agreed about the rejection of the corporate culture, such as it was.

"I do," I replied. "Next Tuesday would work, but given my birthday isn't until November, I'll likely be carded unless we go to a bar in Bridgeport where I know the bartender, and he'll serve us."

"I think we might be overdressed for a pub in Bridgeport after work!"

"True," I chuckled. "It's mostly blue-collar."

"I think the bars here would serve you," she said. "You look old enough, and the suit implies a professional with a university education, like a banker or even an attorney."

"I think we'd have a better chance at a nice restaurant where we ordered food," I said. "If that's acceptable."

"Yes, of course! Tuesday after work, then."

I nodded my agreement as the elevator opened on 29, and we walked out and went into the Spurgeon offices. The rest of the day was typical, with dinner at Violet's, class, and coffee and pie with Violet afterwards.

March 1, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Tuesday, after work, I met Kasia Pucinski at Lou Malnati's.

"I have someone who will move into the house on April 15th," she said once we were seated and had placed our order.

"Great! I'll write you a check for $650 in exchange for a letter terminating the lease on April 3rd."

"For tax purposes, it would be better if I simply deduct that from your security deposit to cover 'damages'."

"We intend to clean from top to bottom and paint," I said.

"You obviously didn't hear the air quotes around 'damages'."

"Ah, OK," I chuckled. "Never mind. I understand. We'll be finished no later than Saturday, April 2nd."

"OK. I'll arrange to do the move-out inspection on the morning of the 2nd. Can we meet there at, say, 8:00am?"

"That works for me. I appreciate the accommodation."

"It makes financial sense for both of us," Kasia said. "The classical 'win-win' scenario."

"Outside of work, which by its nature has to be a zero-sum game most of the time, I believe that finding a 'win-win' scenario nearly always results in the best possible outcome, all things considered."

"Not at work?"

"The only thing I owe a counterparty is completing the deal as agreed," I said. "His profit or loss is on him, as nobody is forcing him to sell to me for a specific price or buy from me at a specific price except his own circumstances, which he created himself. A real life example was when I bought Johnson & Johnson stock right after the Tylenol murders. Someone accused me of profiting from tragedy, but I viewed it as supporting what I saw as a good company in a bad circumstance, not of their own making. Nobody was forced to sell, but because they chose to, I could buy the stock at a serious discount relative to future earnings."

"I take it you made a killing, so to speak," Kasia said with a smirk.

"Wow!" I chuckled. "That's rough! But I did make a nice percentage profit, but I was playing with so little money that the absolute numbers weren't very big."

"Most of our family resources are tied up in the real estate, but I have an IRA. Is that something you could help with?"

"Informally, yes. The fund I run has no provision for IRAs or 401(k)s, but I can advise you on what stocks to hold. Well, unless you have a million bucks, and then you can open a retirement investment account at Spurgeon."

"If I had a million bucks in my retirement account, I'd retire!" Kasia declared. "It's just under $30,000."

Which was a decent amount for a young woman who was in her mid-twenties. Before I answered, I waited for the waitress to finish serving our salads.

"Your absolute best bet is to put all of it in an S&P 500 Index fund or a Wilshire 5000 Total Market Index fund. Those will give you the best overall returns without buying individual stocks and with the lowest risk. You can't really do better than that without paying significant fees to a broker or money manager."

"I'll look at what options are available and let you know. What about investing with you? Is it the same minimum?"

"Not even close! It's $1000. The problem is I can only have a limited number of 'friends and family' in my fund. I do have open slots, but because of the limited number of people I'm permitted to invite, you'd need to put in $5000 to start and promise to add more on a regular basis. And you'd have to agree to a '1 and 10' fee structure, which means you pay me 1% of the initial investment and annually after that, and then 10% of the profits over the 'hurdle rate' which is 8%."

"I have a bit more than $5000 in savings. And you'll have to explain what those fees are and how they work, exactly."

"Before I go into detail, you have to consider that the funds won't be available immediately -- there is a lockup period and then redemption rules. That means for the first year, you can't take the money out without a hefty penalty, and after a year, it can take up to ninety days for the funds to be paid out."

"Why?"

"Taxes, mainly," I replied. "Redemptions can create a taxable event for the fund, and necessitate liquidation of positions to satisfy both the redemption and taxes, and that can cost me and other members of my Cincinnatus fund money. Given you should keep liquid reserves of three months' income, at least, and preferably six, I wouldn't invest that $5000 in anything other than a money-market fund or a savings account, despite the lower rate of return. That said, if it's not your only resources, and you can commit to adding at least 10% every year, then I'd say it's OK."

"Can I just have you look over all my financial records and give me advice?"

"If you want," I said.

"Thanks."

We finished our salads, and a few minutes later, our pizza was brought to the table.

"When we spoke before," Kasia said once the waitress left, "you mentioned getting into real estate."

"Only in the sense that I intend to keep the house I'm buying as an investment. Why?"

"I can offer you management services when you buy your next house. For a fixed monthly fee, I find tenants, collect rents, oversee maintenance and repairs, and handle emergencies. I'm going to guess you don't want to have to do that."

"Most likely, I don't," I replied. "It'll be a few years, though."

"Just keep it in mind. We do it for other landlords, especially for the typical two-flats or four-flats that individuals own. They receive a regular income stream, and we deal with all the hassles."

"That makes sense. I know my uncle uses a management company to deal with the day-to-day concerns."

"Commercial or residential?"

"Commercial."

"A very different market, and not one I know much about. I was going to ask for an introduction, but we can't offer him the kind of service he needs for commercial tenants."

"That makes sense, but I'll keep my eyes open for any business I can send your way."

"I appreciate it. I'll do the same, but I don't think I know too many people who have a million dollars!"

"You can actually buy into one of the Spurgeon funds for $100,000. But if you want your own account, which you need for an IRA, it's a million bucks. And remember, that's investable funds, which can't be accessed for a year. But if you know anyone, by all means, give them my card."

I pulled a small stack from the pocket of my suit coat and handed them to Kasia.

"How are things going for you besides work?" Kasia asked.

"Fine. I'm taking a math class at Circle, which I think I told you about, and I'm earning an A and enjoying time with my friends. How about you?"

"Pretty good. I have good days and bad days, but I haven't fallen off the wagon, which is the key."

"Forgive my cluelessness, but can you never drink? At all?"

"Never. There are some people who think a recovering alcoholic can have an occasional drink, but I'm not one of them."

"Don't they use wine in your church?"

"Yes, but the laity mainly only receives the wafer. Sometimes it's served by what's called 'intinction', which means the wafer is dipped into wine diluted with water. An alcoholic could simply tell their priest not to do that, though some follow the theology that says it's no longer water and wine, but the blood of Christ."

"You'll pardon me if I don't buy that."

"I'm not sure I buy it, but it's one of those things nobody can ever prove because it's an article of faith. If you pushed me for an answer, I'd say it was purely symbolic, but I'd get kicked out of the church for saying that publicly."

"Churches do not appear to brook any kind of dissenting opinions."

"Not even when they're legitimately corrective, like some of Luther's objections."

"My knowledge of that is limited to knowing he basically kicked off the Reformation, but we didn't learn much about it in history class, and I don't know much about the differences in the various Christian groups, though I know wars were fought over it in Europe."

"We learned about it, but I went to parochial school. You were in public school, right?"

"Yes."

"I know you aren't catholic, but the former Archbishop of Cincinnati is now a cardinal here -- Joseph Bernardin."

"I don't know much about the structure of the Church, but that means he votes on who gets to be Pope, right?"

"That is one role for cardinals, and it's the most important one. They also help the pope govern the church. There is a historical analog between the College of Cardinals and the Roman Senate."

"I'm curious about something you said about church last time -- that you pick and choose. How does that work?"

"I go to Mass a few times a month, receive communion, and confess the things I feel the need to confess and don't really discuss what I believe with anyone. You're safe in that way because you're not Catholic."

"Interesting. That works?"

"Sure. It's not like the Spanish Inquisition, where someone grills me on what I believe!"

"That probably cuts down on the costs for wood and lighter fluid," I observed with a grin.

"I don't think anyone's been burned at the stake for a couple of centuries!"

"I remember witchcraft trials in Salem from history."

"That wasn't Catholics! That was Puritans who were Protestant! We have enough trouble of our own and don't need to be blamed for what random Christian sects do!"

"Sorry," I replied. "To me, Christians are all simply minor variations on a theme, if you will."

"Given you're an atheist, that makes sense. You really don't care about the nuances because they'd be nonsense to you."

"If you'll pardon me being blunt, it's all nonsense."

"You really don't pull any punches, do you?"

"No. As we discussed last time, I prefer being blunt and direct and not beating around the bush. I prefer people just to say what they mean and mean what they say."

"Do you remember our discussion about that?"

"Yes, of course. Some specific thing?"

"How about a test?"

"I don't think you could ever say anything that would offend me. Just say what you want to say."

"When we finish eating, I want you to come to my house so we can fuck."

"I recall you saying I'd get slapped for saying that!" I said with a smile.

"Yes, but you didn't think you would because you would have judged your target correctly. I believe I've judged my target correctly!"

"Before I answer, how does this fit with your recovery program?"

"So long as I'm sober and not involved in an inappropriate relationship, it doesn't affect it negatively."

"And you want me to be your first?" I asked with an arched eyebrow.

Kasia laughed, "I suppose I have to say 'yes', given I've never had sex sober, so let me revise what I said -- I want you to come to my house for my first ever sober fuck."

"You're sure it should be me?"

"No strings, no complications, and I wanted to fuck you from the minute I laid eyes on you a year ago. In the past, I would have said that I had never met a man I couldn't drink handsome, but I'm stone-cold sober, and I think you're good-looking."

"Birth control?"

"I have an IUD. It's what allowed me to be totally irresponsible after I had my pregnancy scare. I also had a VD test when I had a checkup after I stopped drinking. As I said, I wasn't careful, and my doctor insisted."

"I had a test at my physical last month after a friend suggested I should have one, and my doctor advised me to have one."

"If you've been with as many girls as I suspect you have, you should."

"More than one," I replied.

Kasia laughed softly, "You obviously don't have to answer, but more than twenty?"

"Yes."

"Is that your answer to my question?"

"You actually never asked a question," I said. "You simply told me what you wanted."

"Right, because that wasn't an invitation!"

"I didn't say that! You asked if it was the answer to your question, and I said you hadn't asked a question!"

"Are you always this difficult?"

"Usually only when it's funny, but I have frustrated a few people by asking too many questions or by being too analytical. Not to mention sometimes being downright goofy."

"Do you want to...no, wait, if I ask that, you'll have a smart-ass response! Will you come home with me and fuck?"

I laughed, "You were going to ask if I 'wanted to' and were afraid I'd give a pedantic 'yes' and say I hadn't agreed, just acknowledged that I wanted to."

"Exactly! So?"

As was typically the case, I had no good reason to say 'no' as my only reluctance in the past had been her insistence on being drunk.

"Yes," I said.

We finished our meal, I paid, then walked Kasia to her car, and twenty-five minutes later, I met her at her house. Unsurprisingly, as soon as I walked in the door, she grabbed my hand and led me up to her bedroom. She surprised me by starting to undress, so I followed suit.

"My tits are way too small," she said when we were naked. "But you certainly don't have a size problem!"

She had very small breasts, but she was nearly as tall as I was, and in my mind, her long legs more than made up for anything she thought was lacking.

"My philosophy is any breasts to which I have access to are just fine! Shall I demonstrate?"

"How about a kiss first?!"

"Oh, I suppose," I said theatrically.

"OK, smart guy! Are you game to sixty-nine before our first kiss?"

"If you wish."

"Then get in bed!"

I'd half-expected her to be nervous or even shy, but that obviously wasn't the case. I complied with her request, lying on my back. Kasia climbed in after me, moved so her thighs were on either side of my face, lowered her pussy to my lips, and then took my dick into her mouth. She tasted good, and I marveled at the variation between different girls, with Kasia being a mix of musky and tangy.

One thing was absolutely clear, and that was Kasia was as experienced as she'd implied. The blowjob was awesome, and the combination of her tongue, hands, and strong sucking encouraged me to work hard to bring her off before I came. I managed, just as she groaned around my dick a few seconds before cum spurted into her mouth.

She continued sucking, licking, bobbing, and stroking until I finished, then released me. She moved off, turned, and surprised me by impaling herself on my still-hard shaft before bending down for a deep French kiss. I was thankful she'd swallowed, but her tongue was coated with my cum just as my lips, cheeks, and chin were covered with her juices. Kasia ground hard against me and managed to have an orgasm before my erection began to subside.

"That was a double first!" Kasia declared upon breaking the kiss. "I've never sucked a guy off and had him inside me before I kissed him. And I was totally sober. Obviously, you're OK with kissing after blowjobs. Some guys aren't."

"Not my favorite thing to do, but I'm not going to be stupid about it!"

Kasia laughed, "As in, you're more likely to get blowjobs if you kiss after them?"

"Yes."

"And if I hadn't swallowed?"

"Same answer. It's pretty far down on my list of things I'm willing to do, but some girls get off on it, so I've done it."

"How long does it take before your pistol is cocked?" she asked.

"Five to ten minutes and encouragement makes it quicker."

Kasia laughed, "Well then, sixty-nine again, but once you're hard, I want you to get on top of me and fuck my brains out."

"I can do that!"

Three hours later, having fucked three more times in multiple positions, we showered, and Kasia walked me to the door.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome. I enjoyed myself."

"Obviously! Would you be upset if this didn't happen again?"

"Trial run?" I asked. "If so, I'm not offended."

"Yes. I needed to prove to myself I could do it, and you were the perfect partner for a test because you have the right attitude. Discovering your impressive equipment was a major bonus! I hope we can be friends and possibly do business in the future."

"Of course. And I very much enjoyed being your first!"

We exchanged a chaste hug but not a kiss, and I headed out to my car for the drive home.

March 3, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Thursday was a very busy day in the office, as I closed out my silver position, then met with Mr. Matheson and Mr. Spurgeon about the Nexis system.

"Let's get two units set up," Mr. Spurgeon said after a brief conversation. "One for Kane and one for Kirov. If that goes well, we'll put them on other analysts' desks. Kane, get the necessary contracts for my signature."

"I'll do that as soon as I get back to my desk."

"Murray, any progress on replacing Jennings?"

"I've seen two good candidates this week. I have Peterson conducting reference checks, and I'll decide tomorrow."

"No more sniveling left-wing bitches, Murray."

"She didn't come across that way in the interview, and the professor is a solid conservative. I asked both guys specifically about their political views. No Marxists. Hell, Kane here is a Democrat!"

"You voted for Reagan, right?" Mr. Spurgeon asked, looking at me.

"I did."

"So he's a Democrat with a brain!" Mr. Spurgeon said. "That's OK. And he seems like a determined capitalist to me!"

"Absolutely," I said.

"What's your take on the mayoral election?"

"I think it's going to be a hell of a lot closer than anyone predicted before the Democratic Primary. Epton is running a blatantly racist campaign, and it's working."

"What? 'Epton before it's too late' is racist?" Mr. Matheson asked with a grin.

"Blatantly! But, according to my research, North Shore Liberals, blacks, and Hispanics should put Congressman Washington over the top, though only by seventy thousand votes, give or take. Something like 52% to 48%, when Epton wouldn't have broken 20% against Byrne or Daley."

"What's your take on the Machine reaction?" Mr. Spurgeon asked.

"I'm not a political analyst," I said, "but my read is a war between prospective Mayor Washington and the City Council; my contacts confirm that."

"Any opportunities there?"

"Not really," I replied. "I'd actually say that the federal investigations into judges and Aldermen will have more impact than who the Mayor is, and even that won't affect much that we deal with. It's not like Chicago has their own currency! And their bonds are going to be paid either way."

"I think Kane is right on that," Mr. Matheson said. "Kane, do you have contacts in the Mayor's office?"

That was an open question because of what had happened with Marcia.

"A friend of mine was on Byrne's staff, but he's with Senator Dixon now. And yes, he's one of my sources. I know someone on Congressman Washington's staff, but I'm not sure what position she'll have, if any, in the Mayor's office."

"What's her current role?"

"District aide, dealing with constituent services. I suspect she'll have a similar role in the Mayor's office."

"Cultivate that one," Mr. Spurgeon said. "You never know what you might learn. Wine and dine her on the company expense account, if necessary. Keep her happy and get the information flowing. She'll be way more useful in the Mayor's office than in a congressional district office."

I suppressed a groan because I wasn't sure Marcia would even speak to me at this point, and I should have just kept my mouth shut about knowing her. The problem was I wanted to please Noel Spurgeon, and I'd mentioned her without thinking of the potential ramifications. I'd have to either call her and try to make amends or find another contact.

The problem with finding another contact was that with a new administration, most of the people who worked for Byrne would leave, and the only person I knew who worked for Congressman Washington was Marcia. I decided that my first step would be to call Gary and see if he knew anyone and ask Jeri. If neither of them did, I'd check with Nelson and Pete, and if that came up empty, I'd call Marcia.

XVIII. Barefoot, Pregnant, and in the Kitchen?

March 4, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"What did you want to do?" I asked Haley when we met in the lobby after work on Friday, which had been her last day in the office.

"Dinner and a movie?" she asked. "Bacino's on Wacker and then a movie at Water Tower Place?"

"What's playing?"

"There are two new films, My Tutor and Tender Mercies. The first one is a typical teen coming-of-age movie; the second one is a drama about a country singer."

"The first one is obviously going to be a comedy of errors of teenage boys trying to get laid. What kind of drama?"

"I don't know much about it," Haley said, "other than he's down on his luck and trying to rebuild his life. It has mixed reviews and is actually only playing in three theatres nationally."

"That's an awfully limited release," I replied. "It sounds as if nobody thinks it's actually any good. Who's in it?"

"Robert Duvall."

"Hmm. I'm not sure I can see Tom Hagen or Colonel Kilgore as a country singer."

"I know who Tom Hagen is, but who is Colonel Kilgore?"

"A character in Apocalypse Now," I replied. "He says, among other things, that 'napalm smells like victory'. That said, I can see why you might not want to see a teen sex farce."

Haley laughed, "I lived through that in High School!"

"I missed that completely because I was working, and I only ever really hung out with my friend Bev. I'm game for either one."

"How about Tender Mercies? I'm sure you've seen plenty of T&A."

"I'm not quite sure how to take that," I said.

"As a joke!" Haley said. "But I'm also sure you've been around the block a few times."

"A few," I replied. "Let's catch a cab to Bacino's," I said. "It's silly to drive over and then come back. It'll cost more to park twice than to take a cab both ways."

"That's right, if you leave and return after 5:00pm, they charge you."

"Yep. And parking in the city is expensive because the city takes a huge cut."

"Of course they do! This is Chicago, so someone has to be paid off!"

"I was thinking taxes and fees, but you're not wrong."

We left the Hancock Center, and I hailed a cab which took us to Bacino's on Wacker Drive. Their pizza is good, but not as good as Lou Malnati's. We were seated fairly quickly and placed our pizza order.

"How does it feel to not be working at Spurgeon?" I asked.

"A bit strange, given it was my first job after my Associate's degree. It would have been three years in June, but as we discussed, Mrs. Peterson isn't going to retire for at least ten years, so the only way up was out. And, honestly, I can do without the 'coke and hookers' mentality."

"Which is part of the reason I'm reluctant to date anyone at Spurgeon. The other, as we discussed, is how badly the situation with Rachel went and the fact that it could have even been worse."

"I know you feel that way, but there is literally no way Noel Spurgeon would side with 'a piece of ass' over a money maker."

"That's just wrong," I said. "I have no problem with casual sex, but treating the secretaries as if they're call girls or a harem is just wrong, and I wouldn't want that kind of favoritism."

"May I make an observation?"

"Sure."

"I couldn't say this before today for obvious reasons, but you aren't like Spurgeon, Matheson, and all the rest. I mean all because even the ones who appear to be moralists aren't. There isn't a single 'Suit', as you mailroom guys call them, who hasn't messed around with secretaries. Because of that, at some point, you're going to have had enough. Something will happen that will be so objectionable that you'll feel you have no choice but to leave. The only way that will be possible is if you start working on your exit plan right now. And don't think any of the girls except Anna and me don't participate. All of them do."

If Haley was correct, and I suspected that she was, things were worse than I thought and meant that my assessment that things might improve was probably in error, and might well mean that Mr. Matheson's advice to 'not worry about Anna working at Spurgeon' took on a different character.

"I had hoped Anna was a sign of progress," I said.

"So long as Noel Spurgeon runs the company, nothing will change. All the rumors about him are true."

"You know it will be years before I could leave, right? I'd have to have my own client base, and I have a start, but it's just that, a start. I estimated I'd need a hundred million in my fund for going on my own to be viable. I have less than five, not counting Noel Spurgeon's money I'm managing."

"You know that's part of the trap, right?" Haley asked. "Golden handcuffs are still handcuffs."

"You're putting in a serious effort to convince me to leave."

"I don't want to see you corrupted," she said. "And that eventually happens to anyone who stays long term."

I smiled, "So you're looking out for your own best interests?"

Haley smiled, "And yours, but there's obviously a chance our best interests might align, or we wouldn't be here. I'm pretty sure you agree there's at least a possibility of that happening."

I nodded, "I do, though my preference is to take things slowly and see how they develop over time. I think I told you I didn't really date during High School, so my experience in building relationships is somewhat limited."

"And I didn't date much in High School, either, except for dances and Prom. I dated quite a bit while working on my Associates and since then. And limited experience in relationships shouldn't really be a problem, should it? I think we're compatible, we get along well, and we both find each other attractive. Isn't that the basis for a relationship?"

"I think those are important, but shared goals and a shared worldview are more important."

"You mean marriage, kids, and things like that?"

"That's part of it, yes, but it's more than that. You know I'm analytical and logical, and don't have any use for drama or excess emotion, and I'm basically utilitarian in my outlook. I'm not guided by any external system of morals, and I'm confident enough of my understanding of the universe to say that we come into existence at conception and go out of existence at death."

"That's a lot of stuff to dump on a first date!" Haley exclaimed.

"Except it's not our first date, really, and I don't see any value in not being forthright. That's another thing -- I'm direct, blunt, and brutally honest. Some people can't deal with that, perhaps even most."

"I'm not saying this is what you're doing, but a girl could interpret what you're saying as an attempt to blow her off."

I nodded, "I can see that, but I'd say it's more like fair warning. I don't want to give the wrong impression or mislead you in any way."

"I think I need to ask if you have a timeline in mind," Haley said.

"You mean, am I ready to marry or even get engaged? No. When will I be? I can't answer that in any specific way, but in my mind, mid-twenties is about right, but who knows what will happen."

"What if you meet the right person before you're twenty-five, or whatever you had in mind?"

"In that case, I'd set aside my intent to wait and act accordingly. It's only logical."

"I never heard the word 'love' in any of that," Haley observed.

"Because it's not part of my criteria. It's an emotional response based on electrochemical stimulation, and I don't trust emotions. They're illogical."

"Jesus, Jonathan!" Haley gasped. "You're Mr. Spock!"

"No, he's dead!" I chuckled. "At least in theory, anyway, because the Genesis planet will probably revive him in some way."

"Is everything a joke to you?" Haley asked.

"I find a bit of levity helps take a bit of the rough edges off my personality. I may have misjudged in this case."

"In all seriousness, you don't ever feel sad or happy or whatever?"

"Of course I do," I replied. "But I don't allow those emotions to control my behavior. And, by the way, I do have deep feelings, which I would classify as love, but it's not what most people would call being 'in love'. I'm not sure that makes sense because it's hard to express the difference. As someone explained to me, we use the same word to refer to strong feelings for our parents, our friends, our spouses, our pets, and food. Other languages have more nuanced words."

"But isn't that an emotion?"

"Maybe, but I think it's different from being in love, or being sad, or being happy, all of which are transient and can change at a moment's notice. What I would call 'true love' isn't like that. It's more of a decision than a feeling, but I haven't thought it through enough to really explain it. I think one way to explain it is that people fall in love and fall out of love, but I'll never stop loving my mom or my friend Bev. And if you think about it, isn't divorce an acknowledgment of a mistake? And the mistake is often made because emotions controlled what happened rather than logic."

"I think I see why you don't have a steady girlfriend," Haley observed. "I think with that approach, you're basically a confirmed bachelor, maybe for life."

"I plan to marry and have kids," I countered.

"But with your attitude, you're going to find it difficult to find someone to marry. I'm positive you'll find plenty of girls who want to go out with you or just have fun, but girls who want to marry are going to be turned off by your strict, logical approach to life."

"I actually have a friend who agrees with me on the topic."

"If she agrees, why is she just a friend?"

"Incompatible spirituality. Otherwise, we're very much on the same page. To be honest, I've found that incompatible spirituality is the biggest impediment. I'm an atheist, and I don't see any real chance of that ever changing. If religion or religious practices are at all important to someone, that's a huge potential barrier. I'm not saying they have to be an atheist, but regular church attendance and following some ancient moral code is not something I believe I could sign up for, nor something I'd be quiet about with my kids."

"You're in one of the most Catholic cities in the country!"

"Yes, but there are plenty of non-practicing Catholics who don't care about a church wedding, and I've met Lutherans, Jews, Buddhists, Hindus, and even practitioners of Shinto, as well as agnostics and a few atheists, though the atheists are guy friends. Fundamentally, I don't think significant religious differences can ever be overcome. I learned that lesson from dating Rachel Kealty."

"What about compromise?"

"It's possible in limited ways, but be honest -- could you really change your beliefs simply by deciding to?"

"You think you could!" Haley countered.

"Because my life is governed by logic, science, and analysis, not faith or emotion."

"Well, this certainly didn't go the way I expected it to," Haley said just as the waitress brought our pizza.

"How did you expect it to go?" I asked.

"Like a normal date, leading to another date, and so on, and becoming a couple."

"I didn't rule that out," I replied.

"Not specifically, but everything you said indicates you don't want the same kind of relationship I do in the same timeframe. I'm at a point where just having a good time isn't enough, whereas for you, it is. I think maybe it's partly because you're basically the age of a college sophomore, and most guys that age don't think about lifetime commitments. I'm almost twenty-three, and, if you think about it, that's about the age you suggested for when you'd be ready to have a serious relationship."

"So, now what?" I asked.

"Shouldn't that be my question? But before we go there, I'm curious about how you expected things to go?"

"In one sense, I had no expectations; in another sense, we'd enjoy an evening together, and if we both wanted to go out again, we would. Maybe it would lead somewhere, or maybe it wouldn't. For me, I take each day as it comes without worrying about where it will lead. That's not to say I don't have goals or plans, just that I prefer to let things develop at their own pace."

"So, from your perspective, we'd just date casually until you decided you were ready for a serious relationship?"

"Isn't that how it usually goes?" I asked. "I mean, that's basically how every relationship starts. The difference is I don't feel any pressure to move to the next stage, or whatever you want to call it. In High School, from what I saw, it was two dates then go steady or break up, and pretty much everyone conformed."

"You had a steady girlfriend then, right?"

"In hindsight, you could call it that, but really, Bev and I were friends from the time we were little and the relationship just developed naturally and led to the obvious place when I was seventeen and she was sixteen. But we never, ever discussed it, and neither of us dated anyone, but we also didn't refer to each other as 'boyfriend' or 'girlfriend'.

"We were just friends. I didn't figure out our relationship until after I moved to Chicago, much to my regret. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say, and the things I did made sense knowing what I knew then and believing what I believed then. It was only after the fact that I recognized the relationship for what it truly was and how badly I'd messed it up."

"That actually gives me a bit of insight into your aversion to acting on the idea of being 'in love' because you never fell in love with her."

"I just loved her," I replied. "But again, I didn't realize how I really felt and how important that relationship was until I basically wrecked it by not talking to her about moving to Chicago until I'd already decided and then not suggesting we find a way to stay together."

"And that makes it even more clear," Haley observed. "Your determination to not make the same mistakes again has led you to be very direct because of your failure to talk to Bev and discuss your future together."

"I'd say that's accurate."

"And whatever happened between you two can't be fixed?"

"I thought it could," I replied. "Then things went straight to Hell, not because of anything I did, but because of the circumstances, which I can't go into. That said, I do have responsibility for creating the circumstances that led to the fracturing of the relationship to the point I'm not sure we can even be friends."

"And that closes the loop on why you are the way you are. Have you considered couples' counseling?"

"That's kind of difficult, given she doesn't live in Chicagoland."

"What about for yourself, to deal with the guilt?"

"I wouldn't say I feel guilty," I replied. "Responsible for my actions or failure to act, but not guilty. I made mistakes, and I determined not to make them again. I've analyzed my actions and inactions, and that has shaped how I behave now. It wasn't sinful or immoral or unethical, just naïve. Nobody should feel guilty about that unless they repeat the same mistakes after learning they made a mistake."

"I was wrong. You aren't Mr. Spock; you're a computer!"

"I don't think it will surprise you that I see that as a compliment, even though I know you didn't mean it to be one."

"Who would want to make love with an emotionless robot?" Haley asked.

"I don't even know how to respond to that comment," I said.

"Don't get me wrong," Haley said. "I know sex is fun and feels good, but isn't there a deeper meaning in a marriage?"

"I take it you want a blunt, honest answer?"

"That's the only kind you seem to have, so obviously."

"Sex is enjoyable and necessary for continuing the species, but beyond that, no, I don't feel it has any specific meaning."

"So it's just about pleasure?"

"And making babies, if you choose to do that. But in the end, how does it change things if I don't attach some externally defined social or religious value to sex?"

"Cheating, for one. If it has no meaning, then you're free to cheat because, like the typical cheater tries to say, 'it meant nothing', as if it being purely physical was a license."

"Two totally different things," I countered. "Cheating is about breaking your word, and for me, keeping my word is a key part of any relationship, whether it's business, friendship, marriage, or whatever. If I give my word, I'll keep it. It has nothing to do with any meaning I apply to my actions and everything to do with being honest, trustworthy, and faithful to my commitments."

"But why keep your word? I mean, you basically said you do whatever makes you happy when you said you were a utilitarian."

"The flip answer is that keeping my word makes me happy. The more nuanced answer is that it's about maximizing overall happiness, not about instantaneous happiness. That is, what action creates the potential for the most long-term happiness, and keeping my word fits precisely into that system. How happy would I be if nobody trusted me or would do business with me or be friends with me because I didn't keep my word?

"It's similar to the answer to the question about whose interests I put first, mine or my clients. And the answer is that it's in my best interest to look after the client's best interest. I might be able to make some immediate gain by betraying the client, but that's a recipe for long-term failure when nobody would trust me to not betray them. Of all the things you might say about Noel Spurgeon, nobody has EVER accused him of betraying a client's interests. And that's why he makes so much money -- Noel Spurgeon always makes money for his partners."

"The Godfather: Part II, right?" Haley asked.

"Said by Hyman Roth about himself," I confirmed. "And it's absolutely the way to do business. No Spurgeon client cares if Noel Spurgeon has a thing for teenage girls so long as he makes money for his investors."

"You don't find it offensive that a man in his forties beds fifteen-year-old girls?" Haley asked.

"If it's consensual, who cares?" I replied. "It's not any of my business. Maybe the government cares, but as my friend Jeri says, for guys like Noel Spurgeon, the rules are different."

"And you want to be like him?"

"Minus the High School girls," I chuckled. "I'm only twenty, and most of them seem terribly immature to me. In all seriousness, I wouldn't cheat on my wife, nor tolerate my wife cheating on me. So, in that way, no, I don't want to be like him. As a successful investor and fund manager? I can't think of a better person to emulate. I simply don't care what he does in his personal life, and I hope the feeling is mutual and he doesn't care about mine."

"And the way he runs other parts of his business?"

"You know I disagree and hope that changes. If you're correct, and it doesn't change, then I'll have to decide what to do when I'm in a position to do it. That means becoming a trader and accumulating around a hundred million, as I said before. That's probably five years off, at least. But here's the thing -- unless I'm required to somehow compromise myself personally, or I'm placed in an untenable position, I'll stay."

"You really don't care?"

"I do care, but in the scheme of things, it doesn't directly affect me, and I'm not going to pass moral judgment on consensual behavior. My goal is to learn the business and make money. So long as nobody insists I sleep with my secretary or cheat on my wife, I can keep learning and making money."

"Don't you want it to stop?"

"Of course. I want world peace, too, but I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon. My options are similar to Mrs. Peterson's -- stay and make more money than I could anywhere else at this point or quit. I'm not quitting, and neither is she. That said, I'm positive if someone insisted she sleep with them, she'd leave, which is comparable to my point about being personally compromised."

We finished our pizza, both declined the offer of dessert and after I paid, we left the restaurant.

"What do you want to do?" I asked.

"You think I want to bail on the date?"

"I think I've said things that you consider incompatible with your worldview, and I'm acknowledging that. It really is up to you if the date continues and if we have another one. That's true in general, obviously, but I have a strong feeling you're unhappy with the way the conversation went."

"It's a lot to absorb," Haley said. "And I'm not sure I could deal with your approach to life."

"You understand that was my point, right?"

"I do," Haley said. "Why don't we get some ice cream, and then you can take me home?"

"Really?" I asked with a grin. "I mean, I'd love to, but I assumed..."

"MY HOME!" she exclaimed with a soft laugh, interrupting me. "And then you go to yours."

"Oh," I replied flatly.

"I do love your goofy sense of humor. You do have a lot of positive traits, but..."

"Several red flags," I said, interrupting her.

"Did you expect this date to end that way? Taking me home?"

"One way or the other, but no assumptions about taking you home versus 'taking you home'. I never make assumptions about that. I'm going to be myself and ask you the same question -- how did you see this date ending?"

"As if I'm going to answer that!" Haley exclaimed with a barely suppressed laugh.

"I believe you just did."

"What?!"

"If the answer was anything other than going to bed together, you'd have said so!"

"You and your damned analytical mind!"

"Actually, it's a good thing because you wouldn't have been doing it just for fun. For you, it would have implied a commitment to be a couple, if not immediately, soon. That would have created a serious conflict because of what it would have meant to you compared to what it would have meant to me. I believe you assumed that this date was, in effect, the beginning of us being a couple, if not tonight, then in short order."

"You deduced all that from one sentence and believe you're correct?"

"Not from one sentence," I replied. "From everything you said tonight and everything you said before."

"And you would have gone to bed with me knowing that was what I wanted?"

"We'd have had a conversation about it," I said. "There is no way I'd have betrayed your trust in that way. You would have seen it as, and please don't take this the wrong way, a down payment on a relationship. There's nothing wrong with that; it's just that it's an obligation I'm not prepared to take on at this point."

"And if I said I wanted to do it just for fun?"

"You wouldn't say that. I believe, from what you said, you did that while you were in college, or maybe High School, but now you're ready to get serious with someone. And I implied I was, too, when I said I couldn't get serious with someone who worked at Spurgeon. But I didn't mean be a couple, I meant moving beyond our platonic relationship."

"Going to bed together?"

"Eventually, but only after we had a conversation similar to the one we had today, and if we were on the same page."

I hailed a cab to take us back to the Hancock Center, and we rode in silence, neither of us wanting to talk in front of the cabbie.

"Do you want me to call you?" I asked.

"You give up that easily?" Haley asked.

"It's not giving up," I said. "It's that I can't give you what you need at the moment."

"Then call me when you can," Haley said. "If I'm not in a relationship, we'll discuss the future."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"There's no need to apologize. I actually appreciate your candor, even if it's difficult to hear such blunt, direct talk."

"Do you want me to drive you home or hail a cab? I'll cover the cost."

"You can drive me home. You aren't the type to be a stalker."

"So far as you know!" I chuckled.

"I'm positive."

I drove Haley to her apartment in Ravenswood, which was on my way to Rogers Park. She directed me to the four-flat, and I double-parked so I could walk her to the door.

"Angling for a 'good night' kiss?" she asked with a smile.

"Being a gentleman," I replied.

We exchanged a chaste hug, and she kissed my cheek. Once she went into the building, I walked back to my car and drove home.

"Jonathan?" Bianca called out when I walked in the back door. "Is that you?"

"No, it's the Easter Bunny!" I called back.

As I took off my coat and shoes, she came from the front of the house to the hallway.

"You're early. And alone."

"Your powers of observation serve you well!"

"I take it things didn't go well?"

"It all depends on perspective," I replied. "Things turned out how they should have turned out."

"Some of the girls are here, and we're drinking wine, listening to music, and eating popcorn."

"I'm just going to go upstairs," I said. "I actually have some math homework I didn't get to."

"On a Friday night?"

"I don't have a ton of free time! I'll see you in the morning. I plan to do the grocery shopping, do my laundry, and hit the dry cleaners before my date with Teri."

"You're sure you're OK?" Bianca asked.

"I'm fine, honest! Go back to your friends. We can talk tomorrow morning."

She went back to the front room, and I went upstairs to my room, changed into comfortable clothes, then sat down at my desk to do the odd-numbered problems in the chapter on derivatives. That took about forty-five minutes, and given it was still fairly early, I went up to the attic, turned on my Apple II, and spent some time reviewing my portfolio, then returned to my room to read the latest edition of Crain's, which, with its heavy focus on business in Chicago, reminded me of Noel Spurgeon's directions to cultivate Marcia as a source.

I sincerely hoped that I could find someone else, but that would depend on Gary, Nelson, Pete, or Jeri knowing someone, and even then, there were no guarantees that the people they knew would be part of the Washington administration. There was no guarantee for Marcia, either, but she'd been confident she'd be hired, and I suspected that was the case. I'd make my phone calls on Monday to try to find an alternative, but if I couldn't, I'd have no choice but to call her.

Just before 11:00pm, I got ready for bed and was about to shut off the lights when there was a soft knock at the door. I was tempted to simply open the door naked, but I grabbed my robe and put it on, then opened the door to find Josie, the cute, very short blonde, standing there.

"Hi," she said. "Would you like some company?"

I had absolutely no reason to say 'no' to Josie, and I've very much enjoyed participating in her 'rookie debut', complete with 'blood proof', something which I understood was very rare for a nineteen-year-old.

"I would indeed," I said. "Spending the night?"

"If you'll let me," Josie said hopefully.

"Absolutely," I replied, stepping aside so she could come into the room.

She quickly undressed, I shed my robe, and less than ten minutes later, she was on top of me, and I was buried in her tight, silky pussy.

March 5, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Saturday morning, we woke relatively early, had another round in bed, and then went to the shower.

"I'm still amazed this thing fits in me!" she exclaimed as she soaped my groin. "I'm so tiny, and you're so big!"

"And it's a very nice fit!" I declared, running my finger over her plump labia.

"I really like when you're on top of me, crushing me into the mattress and pounding me hard. It's like I lose total control over my body!"

"I noticed," I said.

We had started with her on top, as we had her first time, then finished with me on top of her, with her small legs wrapped around my butt and her squirming and bucking as I'd fucked her hard and fast.

Josie laughed, "So I got a bit crazy! But the orgasms are out of this world!"

"No disagreement on my part!"

"You wouldn't be interested in a girlfriend, would you?"

"That seems to be the question of the hour," I replied.

"Are you really surprised by that?"

"Yes and no. 'No' from the standpoint of social convention and what girls seem to want, and 'yes' from the standpoint that I never even went on a date during High School."

"Me either!" Josie declared. "My first date was last Fall after I started at Loyola. But seriously -- tall, handsome, in great shape, sweet, and successful! What more could a girl ask for? And then there's the sex, and all I can say about that is 'Holy God!' even if I'm not religious!"

"I think my answer is that I'm not ready to make a commitment to anyone because I don't know for sure exactly what traits I need in a future life partner."

"Tight cunny, talented tongue, and she swallows?" Josie teased.

I laughed, "Sex is an important part of that, but it's more complicated, as I'm sure you know, given the tone of your comment."

"Most guys your age only care about sex," Josie observed. "You seem deeper, and I don't mean when you have that tree trunk buried in me!"

"I'm pretty analytical and think things through rather than just acting on impulse. Well, that's not quite true -- I don't over-analyze requests to have sex."

"No straight guy I know would turn down sex if it was offered!"

"There does have to be some attraction," I said. "I know you should never judge a book by its cover, but without some physical attraction, I'd turn it down, just as you would."

"Girls tend to be a bit more discerning," Josie said. "If you weren't good-looking, most of the girls wouldn't have let you get to first base. Guys are less discerning, especially after midnight at parties when they've had a lot to drink."

"I think it works both ways. A female friend of mine commented that in college, she never met a guy she couldn't drink handsome."

"The girls I know that hook up at parties don't get drunk to have sex; they have sex because they get drunk!"

"I've never had sex with a drunk girl and never would. I can see so many ways that could go terribly wrong."

"You mean like the girl in my High School who lost her virginity while she was drunk, couldn't remember what it was like, and turned up pregnant?"

"That sounds like a trifecta of errors! Back to your question, do you want to be my girlfriend?"

"Duh!" she laughed. "I wouldn't have asked about it otherwise!"

"I remember a story about the Pilgrims where the girl in question said 'speak for yourself' because she liked the guy who was coming to tell her another guy liked her."

"I think you're remembering The Courtship of Miles Standish, a poem by Longfellow, where Captain Miles Standish asks his friend John Alden to propose to a girl named Priscilla on his behalf. John goes to visit Priscilla and does what Standish requested, even though he's in love with Priscilla. Priscilla knows John's true feelings and says, 'Why don't you speak for yourself, John?' I'm not sure it really happened."

"As I said, I remembered a story! And now that you say that, I have vague memories of my American History teacher in eighth grade saying something along those lines."

"Well, I'm speaking for myself. But I get the impression you like your current situation too much to limit yourself to one girl."

"I'm certainly enjoying myself," I replied. "But in the long term, I do think I'll end up with a traditional family. But I have to find the right girl, and as I said, I don't know my criteria just yet."

"Most people just wait until they fall in love."

"I'm not most people."

"So it's what? Like a business deal?"

"I'd say it's a mutual agreement that we have aligned worldviews, aligned goals, and a joint vision of the future."

"As I said, a business deal! That almost sounds like a negotiated contract."

"It is, isn't it? I mean, if you remove all the religious baggage and silly social conventions."

"I suppose so. You'd be open to an arranged marriage, wouldn't you?"

"In the sense that if someone came to me with the perfect mate, I'd certainly act on that. But I'm not going to hire a matchmaker! Are you upset?"

"Why would I be? It wasn't a condition of having sex the first time or last night or something I expected to happen. I'm interested, obviously, but from what Bianca said, I knew what your answer most likely would be, but I had to ask. I can show you I'm not upset..."

"Only if you want to do that, not because you feel it's necessary."

"I want to!" she declared, sinking to her knees and taking me into her mouth.

The blowjob was awesome, as they almost always were, and after we exchanged a sloppy French kiss, we got out of the shower, dried off, dressed, and went downstairs for breakfast, with Bianca and Shelly joining us a few minutes later.

After we ate, I started a load of laundry, reviewed the shopping list, and then the four of us got into my car. I drove Josie to Loyola, then Bianca, Shelly, and I went shopping and, on the way home, stopped at the dry cleaner to drop off some shirts and suits and pick up the ones from the previous week.

At home, we put away the groceries, I finished my laundry, and then I dressed for my date with Teri. I picked her up at home as I had the previous Saturday, and she greeted me with a quick hug.

"Round 3!" she declared mirthfully.

"Of fifteen?" I asked.

"I've actually never seen a boxing match in my life."

"Me, either. A clip or two on the news, but that's it. It never made much sense to me."

"A lot of things boys and men do make no sense!" Teri teased. "I think it's testosterone!"

"Could be. What are we doing today?"

"I'd say it was up to you, but I know what you want to do!"

"Believe it or not, that's not true. You made your position clear, and I respect that."

"But being a couple would require that, wouldn't it?"

"Let's just say that I think the two things go together," I said. "It's not so much a requirement as what I consider normal. You obviously don't, and there isn't really a point of compromise. That said, I'm here, aren't I?"

"Not to be a bitch, but for how long?" Teri asked.

"And that question gets right to the point about commitment. Someone asked me about that, and basically, I said that I don't actually know exactly what my criteria are for a partner I'd be willing to commit to. I'll figure it out, but right now, I don't know. I think it would be bad to make a commitment and then a few months or even a year or more into the relationship decide the person didn't fit my idea of a life partner."

"I find it interesting you say that instead of 'wife'."

"Because in my mind, that carries all kinds of social and religious baggage with which I disagree. I'd use the term in certain situations where it was necessary to convey the context of the relationship, but I'm more interested in a successful partnership than in a traditional marriage with traditional roles."

"Barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen?" Teri asked.

"I have zero interest in that kind of relationship. I fully expect whoever I marry to have a career and a life of her own, in addition to our partnership, just as I'll have my career and my life. I don't think you have to give up everything to get married, nor should you. I can almost guarantee I will have friends my spouse won't like and vice versa. And that's easy enough to deal with, and there will be mutual friends and couples to hang out with together. But both partners need to be able to have their space, for want of a better term."

"Interesting," Teri said noncommittally.

"Not your view?"

"Isn't marriage about being a couple and living your life together?"

"Yes, which is what I said. I just don't think it's only about that any more than it's only about sex or kids. What I don't want is a situation where I say I'm going out with the guys for a drink after work, and my spouse objects or, worse, has a fit about it. Or if I want to go to a hockey game with a friend."

"Male? Female?"

"Whichever. I have a very close female friend who, because of her history, is likely never to marry, whom I go to Hawks games with three or four times a year. I'd want to keep doing that, and a jealous partner would make things difficult, if not impossible."

"This girl, is she someone you've been with?"

"No. She's a friend."

"Which doesn't mean anything, given your view of sex. You don't have a girlfriend, which implies that you have sex with your female friends."

"She's not that kind of friend," I replied. "I can't go into the reasons why, but it's never gone beyond being platonic, and if I married someone else, it never would, even if it became a possibility."

"She sounds like someone you'd leave your wife for if she were available."

"You think I put so little value on keeping my commitments and my word?"

"Divorce?"

"Possible, but only as a last resort, and even then, things would have to be very bad before I'd even contemplate it. But cheating is simply beyond the pale. When I make the commitment, I intend it to be for life. And that means a commitment to work through any problems. And that's one reason for ensuring we have similar worldviews, similar goals, and are compatible."

"I'm pretty sure that our anatomy goes together properly."

I laughed, "OK, but there's more to sex than just having the right parts in the right places! One thing I've discovered is that different people have different needs and that fulfillment is not as simple as just doing it. As we've agreed, anyone can figure out how to do it. Anyway, what are we doing?"

"How about lunch in Greek Town, then the Brookfield Zoo?"

"Sounds good to me!"

XIX. Another Strikeout

March 5, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Will there be a Round 4?" Teri asked as I exited the Ike at Racine Avenue.

"I think that comes down to whether or not we could find a way forward that satisfied both of us, and I'm not sure that's possible given the disconnect we have."

"And the only solution is to 'connect'?" she asked.

"It would be crass of me to insist on that when I know you have strong feelings on the matter."

"And I'm not worth waiting for?"

"Not to be crass, but I'm sure it will sound crass, for how long? Until we marry? Years?"

"That is what waiting until my wedding night means," Teri said.

"And you're ready to marry?" I asked. "To marry me?"

"No, but I don't have to decide that today, or next week, or even next month. The only reason there's a question about Round 4 is because YOU can't contemplate not having sex until we were married."

"That's true, but it's more nuanced. You're asking me to, in effect, make a bet on the future, with no timeframe and no guarantee that we'd end up married."

"Isn't that what dating is?" Teri asked.

"Yes, in the broadest terms."

"And you don't do dating without sex, so you can't contemplate something that is actually fairly common."

"May I be blunt?"

"Could I stop you?" Teri asked with a wry smile.

"Probably not," I admitted. "What you're asking for is a complete and total change in my behavior, and I don't want to change. I enjoy sex, and giving it up for potentially years simply isn't in the cards, especially with no guarantees."

"To be equally blunt, you're asking me to change my behavior, which I don't want to do, and do something that can't be undone, with no guarantee that we'd end up married."

"Impasse," I said firmly. "There is no viable middle ground."

"That's too bad," Teri said. "I really like you."

"And I like you, too."

"But not enough to wait."

"And you don't like me enough to not."

"That's not it at all!" Teri protested. "I don't think you really understand me. Doing it or not doing it has nothing to do with how much I like you. It's a principle, like your principles of honesty, forthrightness, and keeping your word. You wouldn't yield on those, no matter how much you liked someone, would you?"

"No, I wouldn't."

"And I won't yield on this because it's a core value I hold. Forget why I hold it because that's not really important. I am absolutely sure I want to have sex, and when the time comes, I'm positive it'll be great, and I'll do whatever is necessary to please my partner. When the time comes, but not before."

"I apologize," I said. "I shouldn't have said what I did about not liking me enough."

"Actually, I think it was good that you did. It explains a lot about you. And I think it makes it clear that you shouldn't ask me out again."

"I'm sorry."

"Me, too," Teri said. "I thought there might be something special, but, well, there's no need to rehash everything we've discussed."

We rode the last two minutes in silence, and when we reached Teri's house, she simply got out of the car, said 'goodbye', and walked up to the house. I had thought about getting out and walking with her, but the date had, in effect, ended when I'd made the comment about not liking me enough.

March 6, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Is something bothering you, Jonathan?" Bianca asked after breakfast late on Sunday morning.

"Why do you ask that?"

"You're too quiet. What time did you get home last night?"

"Just after 6:00pm. Teri and I had lunch and went to the zoo, and then I came home."

"What did you do after you got home?" Bianca asked.

"You and Shelly were out with the girls, so I made myself dinner and spent the evening listening to music and reading."

"I take it something happened with Teri?"

"I think I learned the limitations of blunt discourse," I replied. "Or at least that there are limitations."

"You said something that upset her?"

"I think 'offended' is a better word because she wasn't emotional about it."

"I won't pry because you're obviously being circumspect, but I will observe that both Deanna and Keiko are perfectly OK with your blunt, direct style. Shelly and I are, as well, obviously. I suspect Bev was, too."

"More or less, but my relationship with her was so completely different from with anyone else I've known that I don't think I can draw any conclusions from what worked with her."

"Teri isn't the first one who couldn't deal with your personality and your worldview, and probably won't be the last. Haley couldn't, either."

"With Haley, it was more about timing. At almost twenty-three, she's ready to find a guy and settle down. I've seen that with the girls who are past the age where people usually graduate college. And it makes sense, just not for me."

"Because you're twenty! I know what I want long term, but I'm not ready to commit to anyone."

"Bullshit!" I challenged.

Bianca laughed, "OK, I am to you and Shelly, but that's a special case."

"You and Shelly are exclusive, though, right?"

"Informally. Before we moved in, I did get together with two other girls, but once we moved in, I stopped because, well, I think you know why."

"Your original goal with me, albeit modified by the fact that you like pussy as much as I do!"

Bianca laughed, "An interesting way to put it, but yes. And despite you saying 'no', it actually worked out almost exactly as I offered -- live together for four years, with you having freedom, and deciding around graduation when we'll both be twenty-two, if we belong together."

"But on different terms from what you originally suggested because you discovered you're bi, and you need female companionship more than male, but you like both."

"True, and I still say that's your best option for the future."

"No self-interest there!" I chuckled.

"Right, because YOU reject any idea that self-interest is important in our decision-making! Not!"

"I didn't say it was a bad thing," I replied. "Just that your advice lines up with what you want. And you aren't trying subterfuge or being dishonest, so I can't object."

"Sure, you could, but you want me to be direct and say what I want. I keep pointing out how compatible we are, and well, you just can't get past whatever mental block you have about a traditional marriage. Blunt enough for you?"

I nodded, "I appreciate the candor. And speaking of candor, are your continual suggestions about a harem a means to an end or something you think is not just OK but truly right for me?"

"Oh, sure, ask me to figure out my own motivations!" Bianca replied, shaking her head.

"I find that to be the most difficult intellectual task I have to perform -- analyzing myself and my motives."

"We're blinded, somewhat," Bianca observed, "because we aren't always honest with ourselves. And if we aren't, it's hard to figure out why we do what we do. But it's not just intentional dishonesty with ourselves, which we could overcome; it's the hidden dishonesty that's the real problem. You're the most logical and analytical person I know -- do you know why you do what you do in every instance?"

"I think I do, but I also think I'm wrong!"

Bianca laughed, "Nice paradox, but that essentially proves my point. I think it's impossible to know our true motives in enough detail and with enough impartiality to answer your question definitively. That said, I think the answer is that I'm proposing something that has mutual benefits, that is, it works in both our favors. I know you don't agree, but think about why you don't agree. I bet you anything you care to wager that you can't explain your motivation to have a traditional marriage relationship."

"You'd win that bet," I replied. "And you've identified an intense internal struggle because all I can say is that I feel a traditional marriage relationship is right for me. I can't prove it logically, and the only objection I've raised is one I completely reject -- social acceptance."

"The fact that you realize that puts you several steps ahead of most people. May I point out something which ought to be obvious to you but might not actually be?"

I smiled, "That I'm actually doing exactly what you suggested by inviting Keiko and Deanna to move in?"

"OK, so it is obvious, even to you!"

"Yes, but as I've said to several young women recently, I'm not sure what I want at this point."

"Is that really a surprise? You're twenty, you've been in Chicago less than two years, and before you moved here, you had exactly one relationship, and by your own admission, it was very different from any other one you've had. Think about what an alternate universe where you don't move to Chicago would look like."

"I'd have taken a job, likely doing manual labor, or maybe joining a trade union as an apprentice, would likely have married Bev, had kids, and lived in Goshen for the rest of my life."

"The fact that you answer that immediately tells me that's probably what's controlling you -- you had, at some point, exactly that scenario in mind, even if it was subconscious. You made a conscious decision to abandon that, including not talking to Bev about it until it was a fait accompli."

"An interesting analysis," I observed. "And one I can't refute, at least at the moment."

"I think, based on everything, you still have your relationship with Bev in mind when you think about your relationships, and that actually might be why you are so adamant about not committing to anyone."

"I did with Lily," I countered.

"And how did that go?"

"Badly, but that had as much to do with her Catholic guilt and the situation with her parents and Costas as it did with me. But in hindsight, I suspect it was because it wasn't like what Bev and I had, and it felt as if something was missing."

"Are you over Bev?" Bianca asked. "Or is she still the Platonic ideal of a woman?"

"Ouch."

"Seriously, isn't she the one by whom you measure every other woman? And your relationship with her, prior to your conscious decision to leave her, is the measure of every other relationship?"

"You know, I think I understand Teri's reaction to my blunt talk better now than I did an hour ago."

"I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't," I replied. "You just forced me to consider something I hadn't truly considered, and I think is important to me figuring out what I need to be able to have a successful relationship, whatever form it might take."

The phone rang, and I got up to answer it.

"Kane," I said.

"Jonathan? This is Tammy McGill. Do you remember me?"

"Yes, of course," I said, overtaken by a sense of foreboding. "What's wrong?"

"Have you heard from Bev?"

"Not since I spoke to her last Sunday. Why?"

"When my mom and I came home from church this morning, Bev and Heather were gone, and none of their things are here."

I sighed, as exactly what I'd expected to happen had happened.

"Did she say anything to you about her parents hiring a private investigator to find her?"

"No."

"Or about the baby's father wanting to pay child support?"

"Wait! You know who it is?"

"I do," I replied. "Bev told me. The baby's father told a mutual acquaintance that he was the father and wanted to pay child support. Anyway, the private investigator called me last Monday, and I refused to give him any information. Did Bev say anything to you that might give a clue as to where she went?"

"No. Mom found a receipt in the trash showing Bev took all her money out of the bank in cash on Friday."

"Wonderful," I sighed. "Did you call the police?"

"No. Should we?"

"Probably not," I replied. "I want to know where she is and that she's OK, but I'm afraid if we don't all leave her alone, she'll do something even more rash. If you hear from her, ask her to call me, please, and if I hear from her, I'll ask her to call you, and if she won't, I'll call you."

"Mom and I are worried."

"Me, too," I replied. "But I'm not sure what we can do except hope she gets in touch. Does your dad know?"

"He's flying to London via New York and won't call until he lands at Heathrow. Why?"

"I just wondered what he had said."

"He'll be worried, too."

There was nothing more to say, so we said 'goodbye' and I hung up.

"That didn't sound good," Bianca observed.

"Bev disappeared again," I said. "And there is literally nothing I can do about it."

"Except beat yourself up for past actions."

"It's not that, honestly," I countered. "Yes, I made mistakes, and I acknowledge that, but at this point, it's on Bev, not me. I did everything in my power to help, including offering to allow her to move in and being a couple, something she rejected. I'm not trying to avoid my fair share of the blame, but at this point, I don't blame myself. But it's also the case that if I could do something, I would."

"Marry her?" Bianca asked.

"Right up until she ran away from home, I'd have answered that question 'yes'. But she's too unstable now for me to trust anything she says or does. I had thought we might put things back together, at least somewhat, but the fact that she's running away from me, as well as everything else, means that's not likely to happen."

"And if she shows up on our doorstep in the next few hours? Or days?"

"I'll drive off that particular bridge when I come to it, not before!"

Bianca laughed, "At least you haven't lost your dry sense of humor."

"Wouldn't it be wet if I drove off a bridge?"

"You and Teddy Kennedy?"

"I wouldn't have let my pregnant mistress drown," I replied. "Even if Bev shows up, there is still so much that has happened that I'd take her in but not let her move into my room."

"You're sure about that?" Bianca asked.

"Hell if I know," I replied. "But it's pure speculation because she won't come here because it's literally the next place anyone would look."

"So now what?"

"I do some housework, eat lunch, call my mom, then have my date with Deanna. There isn't much else I can do."

"And Teri?"

"That's over, at her request, the same as with Haley."

"All clear?" Shelly asked, coming into the kitchen.

"Huh?" I inquired.

"Bianca noticed you were in a bit of a mood and asked me to hang out in our room for a bit so you could speak privately. It's cool."

"Just so you know, Bev disappeared," I said. "And this time, she didn't tell me where she was going."

"That sucks," Shelly opined.

"Yes, it does," I agreed.

The girls helped with the housework, as they usually did, and then we had lunch together. After lunch, I went up to my room to call my mom.

"Bev did what I expected and ran away," I said after Mom and I greeted each other. "I have no idea where she is."

"Oh, Jonathan, I'm so sorry!" Mom exclaimed.

"It's not your fault, Mom. Or mine. I told Mrs. Newton what would happen, and she didn't listen. I have half a mind to call and say, 'I told you so!' but that might actually make things worse."

"So now what?"

"Nothing," I replied. "What could I do except hire someone to find her, and when they do, have her possibly do something even more rash? She asked me to leave her alone, and I reluctantly agreed. She said she needed time and space, and that was something her parents refused to give her. Even my calls, each of which had a specific reason, bothered her. My offer to help was accepted politely, but in a way that made it clear she wasn't interested in my help."

"I'm worried about her and Heather."

"Me, too," I replied. "And so is the family she was staying with. But I'm not sure what any of us can do. It really is up to Bev."

"She needs some kind of counseling," Mom said.

"Maybe," I replied. "Or maybe she just needs people to leave her alone for a time, as she said."

"It's not rational," Mom said.

"Maybe not, but Bev is intelligent and was always level-headed. Having me leave, getting pregnant, thinking it was Bob but finding out it was Glen, and having YOU find out that it was Glen after you were engaged had to be emotionally overwhelming, even for someone as practical as Bev. Her dad simply wouldn't give her the space she needed, and I let myself get caught in the battle between them."

"You were always in that battle! It was just mostly below the surface until Bev got pregnant, then it turned into open hostilities. Teenage girls who become sexually active often have strained relationships with their fathers. Jim Newton certainly made mistakes, but he handled it much better than your grandfather did."

"You know what bugs me the most about that, right?"

"That they treated Wendy's pregnancy differently from how they treated mine?"

"Yes."

"Let's not dwell on that, please. May I give you one piece of advice?"

"Sure."

"No matter how upset you are with Jim Newton, please don't call him and say, 'I told you so'. That might actually make things worse, and he already knows you were right. Well, he will when he finds out she's gone again, which he will, one way or another."

"Are you going to say anything?"

"No. It would do absolutely no good for me to tell the Newtons she's disappeared again. The investigator will find out, eventually, I suspect."

"Given I'm pretty sure she registered her car and changed her driver's license, it's only a matter of time, according to a lawyer friend here in Chicago. He may have found her, and that's what triggered her to leave, or she may have decided to leave before he did. I'm hoping she gets in touch, but I suspect she won't. And if Mr. Newton continues to look for her, we'll probably never hear from her again."

"I don't know what else to say," Mom said.

"There isn't anything else, really. It's all up to Bev. How are things with you?"

"Good. I did have coffee with Glen, but...I don't know."

"I've explained my take on it, and given he didn't lie to you or mislead you and voluntarily told you what had happened, I don't see any problem. I thought he was good for you before, and he certainly made you happy in every way."

"Jonathan!" Mom protested.

"Oh, please! The fact that my mom enjoys sex does not bother me in the least. Why should it?"

"You are not a normal kid!" Mom said.

"And whose fault is THAT?" I asked.

"Mine and Bev's!"

"My two primary influences. I just want you to be happy, Mom."

"And I want you to be happy and successful. How are things going besides with Bev?"

"Mostly very good. Work is great, my friends are great, but I've had some challenges with young women."

"As has every guy in the history of the world!" Mom declared. "Nothing too bad, right?"

"No. Mostly just learning about myself. I have some very close friends who I can talk to."

"You can always talk to me, but I know it's different with your mom."

"True."

"I plan to visit and see your new house after school is out, most likely in June."

"I'll make sure the harem girls know," I teased.

Mom laughed, "Do your housemates know you say that?"

"One of my housemates encourages the idea! But it's not just Bianca and Shelly who'll be in the new house. Jack and Kristy will move in, as I think I told you, but so will two other girls."

"And these girls are...very friendly?"

"No comment!"

Mom laughed, "Which means they are. You know I won't ever judge you, but please be careful."

"You can count on that!"

"How is school going?"

"Fine. At one class a semester, it would take fifteen years or so to complete a degree, so that's not in the cards, at least at the moment. But I will keep taking classes, and they all do count towards an eventual degree."

"Is that something you want?"

"I think more to prove to myself that I can do it rather than it being necessary for my job."

"I think that's as good a reason to do it as any," Mom said.

"It is. If, by any chance, you hear anything, let me know, please."

"You mean from the Newtons?"

"Yes."

"I'll let you know. Speak to you next Sunday?"

"Yes. I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Jonathan."

We said 'goodbye' and I hung up, resisted the temptation to call the Newtons and give Mr. Newton a piece of my mind, and instead got into the shower to get ready for my date with Deanna. Just under an hour later, I picked Deanna up outside her dorm in the Loop.

"What did you want to do today?" I asked.

"Have great sex!" Deanna exclaimed.

"Anything else?"

"We should probably have dinner at some point."

"One track mind?" I asked.

Deanna laughed, "You're a guy, so it kind of goes without saying that you want sex!"

"Obviously, but I'm sure you've noticed that I like doing other things, too."

"I have, but you don't mind me giving you a hard time about you giving me a hard time!"

I laughed, "Is there something in the water at the School of the Art Institute?"

"You mean because Sophie, Ivy, and I all like sex and want a lot of it? You do realize girls like sex just as much as guys, but society says we shouldn't like it and absolutely shouldn't do it, right?"

"Obviously! It's a bullshit double-standard that considers guys studs and girls sluts, which uses sex to sell everything under the sun but also insists that it only be done in socially approved ways. Head to my house, or did you have something else in mind?"

"If you're OK with it, there's an art gallery in Oak Park that specializes in abstract art, and they have a special showing this weekend."

"I'm happy to go look at art with you, but you know I'm basically clueless about it," I said as I put the car in 'Drive' and headed for Congress Parkway.

"No, you aren't. You picked up on any number of themes and ideas when we were at the Art Museum after I gave you a brief introduction to the philosophy of art. And besides, collectors don't need to know the nuances, they just have to know what they like."

"So I'm a collector now?"

"You'll have the first four paintings in your collection when you move into your new house. I think you'll be hooked, and you do have the resources to collect works from unknown artists."

"Such as Deanna Haight?" I asked.

She laughed softly, "I wouldn't mind!"

"Well, I can't have you starve!"

"I think I'll need to adopt a new style with my newfound riches," she said, clearly being sarcastic. "Maybe Needless Markups?"

"Sorry?"

"A slur on Niemen-Marcus, an upscale store that is overpriced and carries faux fashion."

"Faux fashion?"

"If everyone with money is wearing it, it's just upscale trendy, no different from Izod Lacoste and their stupid alligators. People should adapt their own unique style, not follow some fashion trend."

"Blue jeans and polos or rugby shirts when I'm not working, but no alligators! And suits when I work."

"Right, but you adopted suspenders, which are retro and not common for people your age. And your ties are not boring. So you created your own style, though you had to fit within the boundaries of what your boss would accept. That's cool."

"Except it wasn't me; it was the tailor's daughter who helped pick out things that she felt would work for me."

"So you're smart and paid attention to someone who clearly has an eye for style and knows how to create a difference where conformity insists otherwise. Did you fuck her, too? I'm not jealous, just curious."

"How would you feel if I asked you about the guys you've been with besides me?"

"I'd tell you about them if you really wanted to know. My list isn't anywhere near as long as Sophie's or Ivy's, but that's mostly because I'm a Freshman, and they're upperclassmen, and because they get bored easily and want to move on to new guys. Don't read more into this than I'm saying, but I found a guy who I really like having sex with and prefer, all things considered, just to fuck him.

"My worst-case scenario is great sex and a long-term friendship. Best case? Who knows? I'm not even really thinking about that any more than you are. I mean, sure, we both know the social convention, and we both want a family at some point, but we're both just having fun now. If it turns into something, it turns into something; if not, well, as I said, great sex and a long-term friendship."

"And someone to buy your art!" I chuckled.

"Obviously, but it's more than that. I'm not mercenary or a gold digger, but I sure would be happy with a relationship with a well-to-do sponsor or patron. And if sex is part of the equation, that's OK with me. Hell, with you, it's WAY more than OK."

"Somehow, I think our future partners might have a say in the matter."

"Only if we end up in conventional relationships. I'm open to pretty much any possibility. And you certainly aren't following convention living with two girls; four, actually, once Fall comes around and both Keiko and I have moved in. Unless I miss my guess, you'll fuck all four of us and other girls, too. I'm OK with that, and obviously Bianca and Shelly are OK with that, and while I don't know her, I bet Keiko is OK with that."

"You're not wrong."

"Open your house to other art students, and you'll have all the pussy you can handle. Dick, too, if you swing both ways."

"I'm straight," I replied. "I have gay friends but have no interest in them beyond friendship. You're straight, right?"

"How about we say I've never done anything sexual with a girl? I'm not sure I would, but I also wouldn't completely rule it out. I mean, I didn't do it, but Sophie and Ivy French kissed each other once after blowing you, and it didn't gross me out. In your mind, does that make Sophie and Ivy bisexual?"

"I don't know," I replied. "I think the only people who can answer that question are Sophie and Ivy, but from what they've said and what I've seen, that kiss was the extent of it, and I think they might have done it just to titillate me."

"Which, from my perspective, might be enough in the right circumstance with the right person. Beyond that? Who knows? So, did you fuck the tailor's daughter?"

"Yes."

"Five guys before you, though only one from the Art Institute. It turns out that the stereotype of artists being gay has some significant truth! No professors, but I did do one older guy in his late thirties. He was fun, but being twenty years older, we really couldn't relate. He was the last guy before Sophie and Ivy introduced me to you. You and I relate, even if you aren't as into art as I am, and I'm not as into finance as you are. Did you ever have a much older lover?"

"No. Nobody more than ten years older, and almost all of them within three years of my age. I think that's fairly typical."

"I think so, too," Deanna said. "I think the whole movie trope of a 'Mrs. Robinson' is pretty rare. That said, I know girls who went for much older guys because they wanted someone with experience."

That sounded like the situation with Noel Spurgeon, though I suspected it was more about what he offered them than about them seeking out an experienced lover, or at least, that would fit the rumors better.

"Which exit?" I asked as we passed Central Avenue.

"It's about five blocks from the Ike north on Harlem, so get off there and head north. It's on the east side of the street and has a small parking lot, but most likely, we'll have to find street parking or a lot. There's a lot just down the street on Harlem, which is probably our best option."

"OK."

"Want to swap first-time stories?"

"I thought I'd told you about it, but maybe not. The girl who was my best friend growing up kissed me on her sixteenth birthday. Five minutes later, neither of us was a virgin, and we made sure of that during the next few hours. Just missionary-position intercourse each time."

"First kiss to first fuck in five minutes?"

"Yes. She totally surprised me. I found out later she'd basically planned that to happen, but I had no idea. She was my best friend, and sure, I knew she was a girl and thought she was hot, but the idea of sex with her never crossed my mind before she pulled my shirt over my head."

"How old were you?"

"Seventeen. We didn't let sex dominate our relationship. We fooled around but spent more time cuddling and talking than having sex, and less than a year later, I moved to Chicago."

"She was your only partner before you moved here?"

"Yes."

"Mind telling me who the second one was?"

"A girl a friend of mine introduced me to. She was a Freshman at IIT studying computers. I suspect she's still there, but I haven't seen or heard from her for about eighteen months, and don't expect to. After her, well, the floodgates opened, so to speak."

Deanna laughed, "I bet! I dated in High School, but it was pretty mellow, and as I said, I was a 'good girl' who went to Mass and absolutely would never consider doing anything beyond kissing. Then I moved to Chicago last August for school, and I met Sophie and Ivy, who convinced me that being a 'bad girl' was way more fun than being a 'good girl', and introduced me to a guy at a party.

"We drank, smoked some weed, then ended up in his bed. I was mostly clueless but quickly got the hang of it, and as you said, I made sure my virginity was gone several times that first night. I gave my first shower blowjob the next morning. I saw the guy a few more times, then went to a party with Sophie and Ivy and picked up another guy. That happened twice more before I met the older guy, and then after Sophie and Ivy raved about you, I asked them to introduce me to you."

"And now, six months since you became a bad girl, what's your take?"

"That I could have been having orgasms for two years or more if I hadn't been such a prude! Trust me, the Catholic Church does a serious number on your head in that regard."

"No doubt, from what I've heard. No regrets?"

"None. And no guilt. I never realized that my view of the world was so narrow until I came to Chicago and met Sophie and Ivy."

"The same is true for me, though it was meeting Anala that opened my eyes, so to speak."

"The first girl?"

"The first one I hit on, but to no avail. And that turned out to be a good thing because she was an excellent confidante and helped me start to figure things out."

"She wouldn't fuck you?"

"For what I think were legitimate reasons," I replied. "And in hindsight, that was a good thing because what I needed from her was philosophy lessons, not sex."

"Do you still see her?"

"Occasionally, but not nearly as often as I did. She has a new student, if you will, who is, funnily enough, from Milford."

"Small world! In some ways, I wish I'd gone to Milford High rather than McNick, because, from everything I hear, that school was full of horny kids, and they acted on it!"

"Isn't every High School full of horny kids?"

"Yes, but from what some friends said, there was more sex at MHS than on most college campuses. There was one guy who was reputed to be the best fuck on the planet and purportedly popped dozens of cherries of girls who basically threw themselves at him."

"So, like my current situation?" I teased. "Except in High School?"

Deanna laughed, "I know you get lots of action, but virgins?"

"Shockingly many," I replied. "It turns out that Frank Zappa's song about Catholic girls isn't wrong!"

Deanna laughed, "You're not complaining, are you?"

"Oh, hell no! But there is something to be said for experience."

"I agree on the experience thing. One of the four college guys was a Freshman who'd never gone all the way, and while biology took over, he had no clue how to get me there."

"Bev taught me," I said. "I was completely clueless about female anatomy, except for the most basic concepts, but I paid attention and learned."

"Then I owe her a debt of gratitude! I'm trying to remember if we discussed what we've done."

"I don't think so, beyond you implying that Sophie and Ivy are a bit crazier than they have been with me."

"More than a bit! The married professor they're shagging is into bondage and toys. He likes them to do him with a strap-on."

"I've heard about that. One of my friends told me about a movie where they actually show that being done."

"Not one we could see, I bet," Deanna said, sounding disappointed.

"Actually, it was, according to my friends, 'mainstream' porn, and it's available on videotape.

"We should SO watch it!" Deanna declared. "Would you?"

"Watch the movie? Sure."

Deanna smirked, "That is what I meant, but now I have to ask, would you do it?"

"It seems a bit extreme," I replied.

"I didn't hear a 'no' there. I've never had that done to me, but I'd be willing to make that trade! Have you?"

"One of my partners surprised me in that regard."

"How the heck can it be a surprise when you put it somewhere?"

"She was on top, and before I realized what was happening, she had impaled herself on me."

"You didn't like it?"

"I didn't like being surprised and not having a choice, and it did gross me out a bit."

"More than kissing with your cum in my mouth?"

"The first time a girl did that, I nearly threw up. I don't mind kissing after blowjobs if the girl swallows first but with a mouthful of my cum? I'd prefer not."

"Er, sorry," Deanna said. "I thought you were cool with it."

"It doesn't make me sick to my stomach, but it's not high on my list of things I like to do. But, if it gets you off, I can tolerate it. You can do it if you want to."

"Does that apply to what we were just talking about?"

"How important is it to you?" I asked.

"You would if I really wanted to?"

"I'd consider it," I replied. "But no promises."

"Let's rent the movie and watch, and then I'll either ask or not, and you can agree or not. And no hard feelings if you don't."

"Let me think about it, OK?"

"Yes," Deanna agreed. "Just turn into the lot after the next light."

I pulled into the lot, parked, and then we got out of the car.

"Would you consider another, different request?" she asked as we walked towards the art gallery.

"I'll consider any request," I said. "Whether I agree or not is a different thing."

"Obviously! My request is that when my friend Cecilia, a very good girl, visits later this month, you help her become a very bad girl!"

XX. A Very Different Approach

March 6, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

After we viewed the art on display, Deanna urged me to buy an abstract painting I liked. I decided it wasn't too expensive, so I made the purchase. The gallery owner wrapped it in brown paper, and once that was completed, Deanna and I left the gallery.

"May I make a suggestion?" she asked as we walked to my car.

"Sure."

"Create a budget for art and then purchase pieces you like that fit within your budget. Make it a regular thing, and in a few years, you'll have an interesting personal collection."

"Including yours?"

"I'm sure we can work out an arrangement!"

I carefully put the painting in the trunk, wrapping it in a blanket, and then we got into the car for the drive home.

"Tell me more about your friend," I said.

"So you're considering it? I figured your non-committal answer about seeing the art and talking later meant you were going to say 'no'."

"You just surprised me, though, all things being equal, I shouldn't really have been surprised. Because I was, I decided to temporize, see the art show, and then talk about it."

"You don't make snap decisions, do you?"

"My job involves making informed decisions, though often with incomplete information. But I gather all the information possible, analyze the situation, then make a decision based on levels of certainty and my assessment of the associated risk. When something surprising occurs, I do my best to allow the idea to settle in my head before I do anything."

"You decided fairly quickly to fuck me when I showed up at your house."

"Yes, but that fit the pattern Sophie had established and which Ivy had followed, so it wasn't that big of a surprise. And you had done the one key thing that made it clear we were on the same page."

"The bottle of Jack?"

"Yes. Once Sophie told me you'd bought the bottle, I was positive she wasn't playing a game or messing with you, and you were interesting."

"How so?"

"The whole 'starving, disinterested, disaffected artist' persona and the way you were dressed."

"Tattered clothes do it for you?" Deanna asked.

"I was intrigued and curious."

"And your curiosity was satisfied?"

"Yes," I replied. "I discovered a sexy body under the baggy, torn clothing. I totally get why you dress the way you do, which is a mix of a statement and what you could afford to buy. With the new arrangement, do you plan to change?"

"I can dress up as well as the next girl! Believe it or not, I actually have dresses and skirts in my closet! But I like the ripped jeans and baggy sweatshirts because they're comfortable, and they also give off the message that I don't give a fuck about what anyone thinks."

"A luxury I don't have at work."

"Then you need to work someplace else!"

"Every place I could work and do my job has the same uniform," I replied.

"Then start your own company and do whatever you want, not what society wants."

"That might work for an artist, but clients expect to see their investment managers in suits and ties, and expensive ones at that. Perhaps, long-term, if I had enough of a client base, I could change that. Before then? I have to play the game by the rules."

"So follow the golden rule and make enough gold that YOU make the rules."

"Someday!" I replied. "But until then, I have to be a conformist, at least at work. But we got off topic."

"Cecilia has long, blonde hair, blue eyes, a great body, and is sweet as sugar. She's even more of a good girl than I was."

"And what makes you think she wants to be bad?" I asked.

"When I was in Milford over Christmas, she and I got together, and I told her all about my adventures in Chicago and why it was WAY more fun to be bad than good. We had some long conversations, and the last thing she said before I left to come back to Chicago was that she thought I'd made the right decision. When she called to let me know she was coming for a campus visit and to meet with her counselor, I asked if she wanted to get a head start on being bad. She does."

"And sight unseen?"

"I hadn't seen you before I showed up, and I already planned to fuck you based on what Sophie and Ivy had said about you. They didn't lie, so it was just a matter of you agreeing."

"Sure, but isn't it different with experience versus no experience?"

"I might have told her how awesome you were and that you'd rock her world. I think she got wet just from thinking about it!"

"When you say she was even more of a good girl, what do you mean?"

"She's never so much as played 'Spin the Bottle' or even held hands with a guy."

"You realize my concern there, right?"

"I didn't freak out, and I don't think she will."

"How about I agree to take it under advisement, and I'll meet her when she comes to Chicago?"

"Sure, though I have a backup option for her, too. She's going to do it, just as I did."

"Minus the booze and weed," I said. "No weed because that could cost me my securities licenses, and no booze because I don't want to fool around with someone who's drunk."

"Hold on! I thought the guys in your industry all did coke!"

"Many do, but getting caught with it and convicted can cost you your license. Granted, that's exceedingly rare, but it's not worth the risk. I hope it's not a deal breaker, but you can't bring weed into my house."

"As if I could afford it!" Deanna said with a laugh. "It was the guy's weed, not mine. I toked a bit in High School."

"So not quite the good girl you implied."

"I meant about sex, you doofus!" Deanna declared. "And you knew that!"

"I think most people would equate smoking pot with being a 'bad girl', not a 'good girl', though I didn't hang around with the stoners or Preps in High School to know for sure what they thought about each other."

"Ever try it?"

"No, for the same reason you don't have any -- I couldn't have afforded it. And once I came to Chicago, I was focused on my securities licenses and the need to avoid any kind of illegal behavior."

"You drink, right?"

"Alcohol violations in Chicago are citations, not crimes. They bust the people who sell it to underage kids or serve it to them, not mere possession by somebody over eighteen. And even if I was served, so long as I didn't show a fake ID, it would be a citation for me, and the bartender, or whomever, would be at risk. That's why I usually drink only at my house or in a specific bar in Bridgeport owned by a cop who's the uncle of a friend, who lets us drink so long as we behave."

"A cop owning a bar who lets you drink underage? That sounds like a sweet deal!"

"It is. But it'll only matter for another eight months because I turn twenty-one in November. What did you want to do about dinner?"

"Could we order Chinese?"

"Sure."

"I know what I want for dessert!"

"What's that?" I asked, having a reasonably good idea.

"Cum!"

"Can I ask you about that?"

"What about it?"

"Do you like that, or do you do it because you think I like it?"

"You do like it, right?"

"Yes."

"Me, too. I'm happy if you cum in me while we're fucking, but I really like when you finish in my mouth. I prefer it, actually, because I know it totally gets you off and also because I love how it tastes, and I love the feel of you pulsing in my mouth. I promise to swallow, though."

"Do what gets you off," I said. "I can deal with it."

"Does that apply to the other thing we discussed?"

"Let's rent the movie next weekend as we discussed, then talk about it."

"OK."

March 7, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Monday afternoon, Bill Wyatt called to let me know that the inspection had been completed on the house, and everything was in order, including the new boiler for the forced hot water heating system.

"The closing is on the 18th, as we discussed, at 8:00am. The title company will call your attorney on the 16th with the amount you need in the form of a cashier's check or wire transfer."

"It'll be a wire transfer. According to our accountant here, I need the escrow account number and they'll transfer the funds to that account the afternoon of the 17th."

"OK. I'll make sure they give that to your attorney, along with all the documents for his approval. It's all standard, so I can't imagine he'll have any objections."

"He's an attorney, and from what I've seen, all they do is object!"

Mr. Wyatt laughed, "You might have a point! Is there anything else you need from me before the closing?"

"Not that I can think of," I replied. "I very much appreciate your help."

"You're welcome! It was my pleasure, and I'm sure we'll do business together again. And please, if you know anyone in the market for a home or residential investment property, send them my way."

"I will. Thanks."

After I ended the call, I completed the weekly currency market analysis I prepared each Monday and gave it to Mr. Matheson, then returned to my desk to call my friends to see if they knew anyone who was likely to be in the Washington administration. I basically struck out, with Nelson, Gary, and Jeri all pointing out that Marcia was a lock for a job. Pete had nobody to suggest either, and his comment was that nobody had any idea who would fill the roles at the level where I could regularly interact.

"What you really need," Pete said, "is an alderman or one of the Mayor's deputies, but you'll need to seriously cultivate a relationship like that. The only quick way to do that is to make friends with certain shadier characters."

"I know some," I chuckled. "One of their crew has basically held us up twice now; once when we moved, and once when we expanded."

"If the unions are involved, the Wise Guys are sure to be there!"

"I'd prefer to avoid those kinds of friendships, so I'll work at the aide level, at least for now."

"Find out who your Ward Committeeman is and make friends with him. All that will take is a reasonable campaign contribution and perhaps a few hours of your time every week. All legal and above board, and you'll work your way up to befriending an Alderman, and then you'll have all the legal inside poop that you could possibly want. All for a few thousand in campaign cash in the right pockets."

"That's legal?"

"Check with Nelson, but so long as there is no specific quid pro quo, it's kosher. That's how this city works, at least on the side, away from the guys whose names end in vowels."

"MY name ends in a vowel!" I protested with a chuckle.

"Not one that's pronounced! It's Kane, not Kaney or Kanye! You're not an Andretti or a Coppola or a Lombardo or a Gotti!"

"Capone?" I suggested.

"Smart ass!" Pete said, laughing. "I guarantee you the Old Country pronunciation was 'Capony' or something similar. Are you Irish, English, or Scots?"

"No clue. Why?"

"Your last name is clearly from Great Britain, but the origin is different depending on your ancestry. Mine, 'Mueller', is about as German as they come. Anyway, we should get together for drinks between dinners."

"I turn twenty-one in November."

"Holy shit! I thought you were older!"

"I know a place that will serve me. I'm pretty busy for the rest of the month with closing on the new house, doing some renovations, and moving, so let's talk at Jeri's dinner on the 29th and take it from there."

"Sounds good."

We said 'goodbye' and I hung up, convinced I had no choice but to call Marcia, but that was a conversation I didn't want to have in the office, so it would have to wait until I could call from home. I had no idea how it would go or what I might have to do to resurrect the relationship, but I had my marching orders, so I needed to find a way.

At the end of the day, I left the office and headed to Violet's house for dinner, then walked her to class before heading to the lecture hall for my math class. I was surprised to see Troy standing by the door to the building, and when he waved, I walked over to him.

"I know it's probably none of my business," Troy said, "but Teri was pretty upset when she came into the house yesterday."

I had to be very careful not to reveal any confidences, but I also felt I couldn't refuse to say anything.

"We had a difference of opinion on a way forward," I said.

"May I stick my nose where it probably doesn't belong?"

"Everyone is entitled to say their piece," I said. "But I may not be able to answer in a satisfactory way, and I have to keep my own counsel. That said, you won't upset me."

"First, I need to tell you something in complete confidence so you understand the context."

"I'm not sure you should," I said.

"Teri and I are very close, as I'm sure you can imagine, and I care a lot about her, and sometimes that means taking risks."

"Your call," I said.

"When my parents asked her about you last week, she was absolutely gushing with excitement and even said she thought you might be 'the guy' and that she wanted to invite you to dinner to meet Mom and Dad. Did you know any of that?"

"No, but I could infer that she was at least very interested."

"We only have a couple of minutes before class, but I think I can maybe explain."

I wondered about that, given the source of our disagreement.

"Are you sure you should?" I asked.

"I love my sister, so yes," Troy said firmly. "She confided in me about your disagreement, and I'm responsible."

"How could you be responsible?" I asked.

"When we were fifteen, I slept with Teri's best friend. It was both our first times, and we weren't careful. Her friend ended up having an abortion because there was no way at fifteen we were going to have a kid. Teri was upset with me for a bunch of reasons, including having sex with her best friend and for the abortion, and she swore she'd never, ever put herself in that position."

Which explained a lot, but didn't really change things in my mind because, in the end, the results would still be the same, and I couldn't make the commitment Teri wanted me to make, and it would likely be several years before I'd be ready. Troy's information certainly put a very fine point on why she'd been so adamant about her position and explained why it wasn't religious, as she'd said.

"I get it," I said. "But I'm not sure what I can do about it."

"I don't know either, except to suggest you talk to her."

"She wasn't exactly in a talking mood when I dropped her at home."

"I know, but now that she's had time to think about it, she might be receptive to talking to you."

"We need to get inside, and I'll say 'hi' to her, but the ball is really in her court because she told me she didn't want to go out again."

"I'd wager," he said as we walked into the building, "that if you ask in a few weeks, she'll say 'yes'. I know that doesn't resolve the problem, but I don't think you should give up."

I nodded, and when we went to sit down, I said 'hi' to Teri, who said 'hi' back, but then the lecture started. At the end of class, I said 'goodnight' to them, and Teri acknowledged me before I left to join Violet at the diner for our usual pie and coffee. I walked her home, and after she was safely in the house, I walked back to my car and drove to Loyola to pick up Keiko.

March 8, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Tuesday morning, I took Keiko back to her dorm at Loyola, agreed we'd get together the following Monday, then headed to the office for another day as a financial analyst. Not much was happening in the world, and most of the action was basic arbitrage, as well as managing futures contracts for customers who had international settlements that had to be made in various currencies.

On Tuesday evening, Anna and I left the office together and, at my suggestion, headed to Eli's. We had to wait for a table, so we went to the bar, and as Beth had suggested, they served me a bourbon without asking for ID. It was, in my estimation, a combination of the suit I was wearing, the gorgeous blonde with me, and the Amex card I set on the bar in front of me before ordering that caused the barman not to even look inquisitorially at me.

"What do you find as the biggest differences between Sweden and here?" I asked.

"Your taxes are much lower, and your shops are open at much more convenient times, but your entire country is so uptight compared to Sweden where people are «lagom», which I think is best translated as 'mellow'. And your country is very religious, though I don't think you are."

"I'm not. Are you?"

"No. I was a member of the State Church of Sweden, which is Lutheran, but I'm not religious in any way. I was baptized and confirmed, but pretty much everyone does that, whether they believe or not, because it's the tradition. I think maybe ten percent of the people I knew went to church at any time other than for baptisms, confirmations, weddings, and funerals. I had an aunt who went on Christmas and Easter, but my parents didn't even do that."

"Do you believe in god?"

"I'm agnostic," Anna said. "I have no idea, but the rituals are very typically Swedish, so we do them, like having strawberries for Midsommer and a «julbord» at Christmas. That's a special «smörgåsbord» for Christmas, but not like an American 'all you can eat' buffet. It's more about delicacies and special treats than huge helpings of staple foods. And Christian Swedes all celebrate Midsommer with the pole and ribbons and dancing, following the pagan traditions. Are you baptized?"

"No. My mom never took me to church because she was kicked out for becoming pregnant at sixteen."

Anna rolled her eyes, "Speaking of uptight! I know so many people in Sweden who had kids before they married. Nobody cares. Here, it's as if the world ended. It's foolish."

"I agree, obviously. The other thing is that I'm pretty sure the church she went to doesn't baptize until you're a teenager. I take it you were a baby?"

"Yes. We have some people from the Reformed churches that practice adult baptism, but they're a tiny part of the Swedish population."

"I know next to nothing about Sweden except for Björn Borg, ABBA, and the Olympic skier whose name I can't remember right now."

"Ingemar Stenmark! He was amazing in the 1980 Olympics! Björn Borg is also amazing! And, of course, everyone knows ABBA, but they aren't as popular here as they are in Europe."

"So, beyond that?" I asked.

"It's a small country with a population of perhaps eight millions, and most people live from Stockholm and Gothenburg south to Malmö. We're very modern, very «lagom», very peaceful, and have very little crime. School is at no additional cost for everyone, as it's paid for by taxes, and so is healthcare. Usually, we have a Social Democratic government, but the parties of the right, led by «Moderaterna», have ruled some recently. It's a beautiful country."

"So why come here?" I asked.

"I loved it here when I was an exchange student, and there are more opportunities because there is more business and more freedom to start a business. Also, I like to see the sun during the Winter!"

"You didn't live north of the Arctic Circle, though, right?"

"No, but where I live is much further north than here. If you look at a globe, you'll see that Chicago is about the same as the north of Spain, and Gothenburg, or Göteborg as it's called in Swedish, is closer to Northern Canada."

"Penguins and polar bears?" I asked.

Anna laughed softly, "Penguins live south of the equator, and polar bears north, so no penguins. Many more elk and reindeer than bears."

"Mr. Kane?" the hostess said, coming up to us. "Your table is ready."

She led us to a table, and a moment later, a waiter came to take our drink orders. After conferring with Anna, we ordered a bottle of wine, which the waiter brought without comment. We had reviewed the menu, so he took our orders and left.

"What sports do you like?" I asked.

"Cross-country skiing, football, though you call it soccer, ice hockey, and Formula 1."

"Those are the cars that look like the ones that run in the Indianapolis 500, but they race on the street? In Monte Carlo, I think?"

"Yes. That's the race everyone knows about. And the cars are not really that similar, but if you don't follow racing, I can see how they look the same. It's very different from your stock car racing. We don't really have that, but we do have Rally, which is road racing in modified production cars. What about you?"

"Hockey, American football, and baseball."

"Very American, except for the ice hockey part!"

"Why do you say 'ice hockey'?" I asked. "I mean, I know it's the official name, but it's just called hockey here."

"You've never heard of field hockey? It's mostly a girls' game, played on a football pitch, but very popular in Sweden, so we distinguish. The word is «ishockey» in Swedish, and it's just as it sounds. Do you go to games?"

"Yes, and I'll go more now that I have access to the Spurgeon boxes and tickets."

"You can invite me to watch hockey," she emphasized the word, "but I have no interest in gridiron football. Rugby is OK, but your game is silly. I mean, you put on body armor and throw the ball around and call it 'football' even though I understand it's illegal to advance the ball with your feet!"

I laughed, "I hadn't really thought about that, but you're right. As for going to games, all the Hawks games were reserved, but I did put in for playoff tickets. The thing is, I have a friend who goes with me."

"Just a friend?" she asked,

"Yes. Female, but just a friend."

The waiter brought our salads, and we began to eat.

"Swedes don't think like Americans about male and female friends," Anna said. "I only asked because I know American girls can be very touchy about it."

"If she was my girlfriend, I certainly wouldn't be sitting here with you!" I said with a smile.

"I would hope not, but that doesn't mean you aren't involved in some way, and said 'friend' to avoid contention. But even in situations like that here, I find American girls are always concerned about other girls talking to guys they are spending time with."

"Actually, any girl I would in any way be serious with would have to accept that I have close female friends."

"And I have a male friend who is simply a friend, and I can't imagine going out with a guy who would object to that, not to mention my friend is gay. That's another thing that I don't like here -- how gay people are treated."

"At the risk of sounding like the people who say they aren't racist because they spend time with black people, I have some close gay friends. Of course, I'd never say that out loud at Spurgeon, given the anti-gay jokes I hear all the time."

"And the ones who make the most jokes are actually gay!" Anna said. "They make disparaging jokes as cover so that nobody will suspect."

"I hadn't considered that but then again, I simply don't care who sleeps with whom or who is in love with whom."

"A very Swedish attitude! Yes, we have some people who are against gays, but most people just mind their own business."

"That's a good thing. I'm curious about you working at Spurgeon."

"It pays better than anything else I've found, and once I made it clear I wasn't available and wasn't going to change my mind, they left me alone in that regard."

"That's good."

"So I save my money, get experience, and then eventually I'll find a better job. That's what you'll do, too, isn't it? Similar to Haley?"

"As I've said to several people, I can make more money at Spurgeon than anywhere else, and I'll stay until someone tries to force me to compromise my principles. If that never happens, and I move up the ladder, there's no reason to leave."

"That makes sense, though, as with Haley, there is no way to move up from my position. That said, the secretaries I know who used to work at Spurgeon have all taken jobs as executive assistants at management consulting firms for very good salaries and benefits. That's likely what I'll do."

"Sounds like a good plan," I replied.

"You never know; maybe I'll end up as your executive assistant someday at your own investment firm."

"Maybe!"

We had a nice dinner, then coffee and chocolate cake with hot fudge drizzled over it for dessert. Once we finished, I paid the check, left a healthy tip, and Anna and I left the restaurant.

"Are we going to your place or mine?" she asked.

I hadn't expected that question, assuming that given this was our first date, that I'd take her home, not 'take her home' as Haley had distinguished.

"I see the look on your face," Anna said. "I think we just hit a difference between Swedish dating and American dating.

"Oh?"

"One of my friends in Sweden used to say that Swedes do things backwards from most other Western countries. We meet at a party, go home with a guy or girl, then decide if we want to date."

"Interesting," I replied.

"You're open-minded, so I'm sure you'll recognize that you should find out right away if you like sex with the person rather than invest a lot of time only to discover you aren't compatible."

Which was basically the exact opposite of Teri's view, but lined up more with girls like Allyson and Kristy, who would never marry someone they hadn't gone to bed with. And that was exactly what I'd said to Marcia about sexual compatibility.

"Eminently wise," I said. "Where do you live?"

"Lincoln Park with a friend from when I was in High School as an exchange student. She's a paralegal for a big law firm."

"OK to ask a logistical question?"

"Yes, of course. Change of clothes for the morning?"

"That was exactly what I was thinking."

"Where do you live?"

"Rogers Park, with two female housemates."

Anna laughed, "So you're totally in tune with the Swedish way, then, where that is not out of the ordinary. My place is on the way to yours, so if we go by my townhouse, I can get the things I need for the morning, and you can just bring me to work. If that's OK."

"Of course it is!"

About forty-five minutes later, we walked into the house, and I almost laughed when Bianca rolled her eyes theatrically as I led Anna upstairs to my room after she took off her shoes by the front door.

"You don't remove your shoes inside?" she asked.

"Not always. Is that a Swedish thing?"

"Yes. It helps keep the house clean, especially in a country where it snows so frequently."

"That makes sense," I replied, closing the door to my room.

"Your housemate made a silly face at you," Anna observed. "I'm guessing I'm not the first girl you've brought here! Or even the fifth!"

"Your guess is correct," I replied.

"Tell me what you like," Anna said with a smile as she began unbuttoning her blouse.

"Birth control?" I asked as I loosened my tie.

"Swedish guys hate to use «kondomer» so most Swedish girls are on «P-piller» -- preventative pills. Which makes more sense than 'birth control'! The pills and the rubbers don't control the birth of a baby; they prevent making the baby!"

I laughed, "Yes, but they do prevent babies from being born by preventing conception!"

"Then say 'contraception' not 'birth control'! You Americans are so silly! It's like what I said before with what you call football, not allowing you to advance the ball with your feet!"

"I don't object to rubbers, though I'll gladly forego them! As for what I like, oral sex and intercourse, of course!"

Anna laughed, "An answer that conveys nothing!"

"And everything!" I replied with a grin as I began unbuttoning my shirt, keeping my eye on Anna's slow reveal of her sexy body as she took off her blouse and skirt.

"Top? Bottom? From behind? Oral at the same time? Individually?"

"Yes!" I chuckled.

"You're being difficult on purpose!" she said as she removed her bra, revealing modest breasts capped with pink nipples.

"Of course I am!" I declared, taking off my suit coat, pushing the suspenders from my shoulders, and then removing my shirt. "I'm willing to bet that I'll enjoy anything you want to do."

"I'm positive because I'm very good!" Anna declared, removing her nylons.

"We'll just see about that!" I declared with a grin as I removed my pants. "I'm very good, too!"

"So many guys boast, then fail to live up to their boasting."

"I haven't been known to disappoint," I replied as I removed my briefs. "Would you like references?"

"Your housemates?" Anna asked, removing her panties and exposing a triangle of neatly trimmed blonde pubic hair.

"The one who made the face would find you VERY attractive," I said as I looked over her gorgeous body.

"Oh! You didn't say they were lesbian!"

"Because they aren't! They're both bisexual."

"You are certainly the most interesting American man I've met in all the time I've been here. Very open-minded. And very well endowed. I hope you know how to use that!"

"Come closer, and we'll find out together!"

March 9, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"How would the Swedish judge rate the encounter?" I asked as I led Anna to the shower on Wednesday morning.

"9,5," Anna said with a silly smile, "because there is always room for improvement! And your rating?"

"Nine comma five?"

"Sorry, in Sweden, we use the comma where you use the decimal point."

"Weird. My score was going to be 10.0, but now I have to reconsider!"

"You know I'm teasing you, right?" she asked as I twisted the tap to turn on the water.

"Yes, of course!" I replied. "And I was teasing as well. We did run the whole gamut last night, but what do you like most?"

"I prefer being on top, and second best is your tongue! What about for you?"

"I'd say the same," I said as we stepped into the shower, "though I like mutual oral sex better than just one way or the other. But everything we did was pleasurable and in every position! Where do we go from here?"

"You mean a relationship?"

"What I know about Swedes is limited to what you've told me," I said as I began soaping Anna's sexy body.

"We spend time together when we want, don't when we don't want to, and see how we both feel. You Americans are so silly about getting married so young. We Swedes might live together in our twenties, but marriage is usually around thirty, if not older, and as I said, often after kids are born. Did you expect we would be going steady because we had sex?"

I chuckled, "No, but I know plenty of girls who think that way. I asked because I honestly didn't know what you wanted. You kind of took me by surprise by simply assuming we'd go to bed together."

"I brought you candy and cake on Valentine's Day! I wonder if you're actually intelligent and observant enough to do your job!"

I laughed, "OK, I deserved that! I didn't miss the clue; I just didn't expect a casual 'my place or yours' the minute we walked out of the restaurant."

"It's what you wanted, though, right?"

"Yes, of course! I'm just pointing out the...cultural differences. I think you need to tell me how you see this working."

"We keep it casual," Anna said as she took the soap from me to spread lather on my body. "We go to the gym together, have lunch together, and have drinks like we did tonight every few weeks. If we decide we like each other enough, eventually, we talk about what that means. I am in no rush, and I hope you aren't either."

Anna was like a breath of fresh air compared to the girls who were, in effect, demanding I decide immediately on who I would be with. Deanna and Keiko weren't pushing as hard as others, but Anna was even more laid back about it.

"I'm absolutely in no hurry," I said. "And what you proposed is perfectly acceptable."

"Great!"

We rinsed the lather from our bodies, got out of the shower, dried off, then dressed for work.

"How much do you tell your housemates?"

"I don't hide things from them if that's what you mean, but I also don't give play-by-play details! They're as open-minded as I am, and other than a bit of teasing tonight when I come home after class, they won't say much of anything. I do have something to tell you that might or might not be important."

"What's that?"

"When I move into the new house, I'll have additional housemates -- Jack from the mailroom and his fiancée Kristy, well, she's not yet, but soon enough, along with my friends Keiko and Deanna."

Anna smiled, "And the only reason you would say that it might be important to me is because these girls are not 'just friends'."

"Correct."

"Their own rooms? Or are you starting a harem?"

I laughed, "That's what Bianca, the girl who made the silly face, suggested! But they'll have their own rooms. Having someone move into my room would imply I was ready to make a commitment I'm not ready to make."

"You have no claims on me, and I have none on you," Anna said. "At least not now. Who can say in the future? We'll worry about that if we decide we like each other enough to consider more."

"That makes perfect sense," I said. "Shall we have breakfast?"

"I bet you don't have traditional Swedish breakfast food -- «filmjölk» and cornflakes."

"I'm sure there are cornflakes, but we only have regular milk, not whatever kind you said."

"It's fermented milk with a slightly sour taste, and it's thick, almost like yogurt, but you can pour it."

"I've never even heard of it!"

"When it's time for your vacation, I'll take you to Sweden!"

"I thought you were going to take me to Greece to meet all your friends!"

Anna laughed, "As good-looking as you are, they wouldn't even look at you because of all the Greek guys with their fantastic tans!"

"And you?"

"I've enjoyed my time in Greece, but if I took you, I wouldn't be looking at other guys. Well, I'd look but not touch! It would be rude!"

"Noel Spurgeon offered me a week at his house in Saint Martin, and I can bring a guest."

"Are you asking me?"

"Are you interested?"

"What do American teenagers say? I asked you first?"

"And I asked you second!"

Anna smiled, "I believe they have nude beaches there! Are you game?"

"Is that a condition for saying 'yes'?"

"Are you open-minded and liberated enough to go to a nude beach?"

"With you? I think I am."

"Is that a 'yes'?"

"Yes."

"Then make the arrangements. Will you be able to convince Mr. Matheson to let me take my vacation the same week?"

Given what Noel Spurgeon had said, I was absolutely sure I could.

"I think so. Let's eat and get to work. We don't want to be late!"

We left my room and went downstairs to have breakfast.

XXI. An Ominous Phone Call

March 9, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

When Anna and I arrived at the Hancock Center on Tuesday morning, we rode the elevator up to 29 together, though that made her quite a bit early for work, as she didn't start until 7:30am rather than 7:00am. I made coffee as usual, then went to check with Rich about the overnight market.

"When Matheson finds out, he's going to have a shit fit!" Rich said, nodding towards Anna's desk.

"He knows," I said. "As does Mr. Spurgeon."

"No shit?"

"No shit. How are Japan, Hong Kong, and London?"

"No news is good news or bad news, depending on how you take that. Some volatility in European currencies, but otherwise, not much going on. I closed out the large USD/JPY position to complete the settlement for the merger Foulks is overseeing, as the funds are due today. I also took long positions in some Japanese and European electronics firms."

He handed me his paper transaction log that I'd use to update my analyst report for Mr. Matheson, and I went back to my desk to begin working on it. Very little had changed since Monday morning, so I made a few updates and added a section that would track the location of US Navy aircraft carriers, as that was a good proxy for what the US government currently felt was a threat or a priority.

The biggest risk, as it had been for several years, was Iran trying to close the Straits of Hormuz, thereby cutting off the flow of oil to the West and creating havoc in every industrialized country. In my research, I'd found plenty of reasons for Iran to have a legitimate beef with the US; I simply wished they hadn't chosen the fanatical religious option as their response to our meddling.

Once my report was on Mr. Matheson's desk, I went to see Phil in Information Services about the technical requirements for the Nexis system.

"I think the best solution, and really, the only one that will work," he said, "is to replace your 3278 terminal with an IBM PC/XT. They were literally just released yesterday, and with an SNA card, a 3278 emulation card, and a modem card, it would allow you to do everything you need to do, including what you do on your Apple II. That would consolidate you to one computer system, plus the Bloomberg terminal, rather than having two or three computers plus Bloomberg."

"How different is that from the Apple?" I asked.

"It depends on what you mean," Phil said. "In terms of using your spreadsheet and text editor or word processor, you won't notice much difference. There are technical differences, but I don't think they matter much to you. Your Apple can't talk to the IBM mainframe in any reasonable way, and that is going to be a problem if you want to try to load data automatically."

"Would you do the same for Tony?"

"Yes, though he doesn't have an Apple. But with an IBM PC/XT, he could do the same things you do. Your Apple could go to Mr. Nelson or perhaps the new Personnel clerk."

"How much is that going to cost?" I asked.

"You'd need the IBM PC to access Nexis, or at least a dumb terminal and a modem, so it's not really going to be outrageously more costly. It's something we've considered for new hires, and honestly, if you ask for this project, it'll be approved. You know Spurgeon is looking for any edge he can find."

I nodded, "True. Would you get the specs and the quotes? I'm sure you can get a better deal from our IBM rep than I could at the computer store."

"I will, but IBM set things up so that the PC division is separate from the mainframe division, so I'm not sure exactly how our purchase would work. But leave that to me. When did you need the equipment?"

"Is that a serious question?" I asked.

"I'll fire up the Spurgeon Time Machine and have them here yesterday, as required!" Phil said with a grin.

"Pretty much. Just let me know what you find out."

"Will do. And congrats on those big scores! I saw the weekly and monthly financials yesterday, and I think we're all going to be very happy come December!"

"Thanks. I hope so."

I headed back to my desk, wrote a short memo to Mr. Matheson about the equipment, and gave it to Anna. A few minutes later, Mr. Matheson called a staff meeting, so we all went to the conference room.

"Our new fixed income analyst, Joel Stein, starts on Monday," he said. "He's coming over from Continental Illinois. In addition, we're filling the second secretary position, which has been open since before we moved to 29. Mia Naismith will start on Monday as well, and this is her first full-time job out of High School. She's been temping since she graduated last June.

"Kane, Kirov, you'll need to get Stein up to speed on our procedures as quickly as possible. They do things differently at the bank than we do here, so he'll need some help finding his sea legs. Anna will be my senior secretary, and Mia will work for her, spending most of her time supporting Monroe, Foulks, and Chamberlin. Anyone except those three should continue to go to Anna for anything they need."

Neither of those things surprised me, especially hiring a guy, though I had wondered why Monroe's secretary hadn't been replaced after she'd left in November. What was interesting was that she wasn't his secretary, but a group secretary. I doubted he was in the doghouse and suspected this was just Mr. Matheson managing his P&L by not having private secretaries for each trader, as other teams had.

Mr. Matheson dismissed us, and I went back to my desk. About twenty minutes later, he called me in to discuss the memo I'd written. We only had a brief discussion, as we needed the details from Phil before he could ask Noel Spurgeon to approve the plan. When I left his office, I went back to my desk and made the phone call I'd put off but could no longer wait to make.

"Constituent Services, Marcia Blake," she said when she answered.

"Hi, it's Jonathan," I said.

"What do you want?" she asked snippily.

I didn't want to lie, but being blunt probably was not the best course of action. Kasia had, back when I'd first gone out with her after renting the house, asked me about tact, and I'd said it wasn't my usual style, but given my marching orders from Spurgeon, I had to find a way. And that way had to be truthful, even if I didn't share my motivation with Marcia.

"I felt, based on our friendship, I should give you another chance to talk if you're willing. If not, tell me to go away, and I will."

And then I'd have to find SOME way to get a contact in the Mayor's office to satisfy Noel Spurgeon.

"Talk about what?" she asked.

"Anything," I replied. "I thought our friendship was going well until you surprised me in Wisconsin."

"You still want me to answer that question," she said flatly.

"Yes, but not the way you mean. It only matters if you want something beyond friendship. If not, then I honestly don't care. But if you want more, then yes, the conversation is necessary. You're in complete control over that. Let's have lunch tomorrow."

"What is it you want from me?"

"Friendship. And you know the original basis for our relationship, which obviously hasn't changed on my part. I know you'll be working for the Mayor rather than a Congressman, but those contacts will still be helpful for me. In return, I'm still willing to manage your investments for you, if you want."

"Well, at least you're honest."

"I would hope you thought that because I try to be, even if that means I end up being a bit tactless. Let's have lunch; there's plenty to gain and nothing to lose. And if you don't want to speak to me or see me, just say so."

"West Loop Café tomorrow at 11:30am?"

I'd have to take a cab there and back to make it on time, but that would work.

"Sounds good. I'll see you there at 11:30am tomorrow."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, believing I'd put myself in a position for possible success. Of course, it very much depended on Marcia and whether she could be just friends. If she could, then I'd have my contact; if not, then I'd have to figure out a way forward that worked for me and for Noel Spurgeon.

As usual for a Wednesday, I ate at my desk, then joined Anna for our workout in the gym. I found it strange that now that I'd slept with her, I no longer had to fantasize about her body, but that actually made it worse, because I knew exactly what was under the tight white T-shirt and tight gym shorts! That, combined with her Swedish approach to relationships, convinced me I'd made the right decision to 'have drinks' with her the previous evening.

At the end of the day, I headed to Violet's for our usual dinner before class. She greeted me at the door, and then we went to the kitchen to eat at the dinette table.

"Is everything set for your new house?" she asked.

"It is. The inspection was completed, and everything is set for the closing on the 25th."

"Did you need any help moving or anything?"

"We pretty much have everything set," I said. "You're obviously welcome to hang out with us if you like, and I won't turn down the help. What about work?"

"I have vacation I haven't used, and it's not as if I'm going anywhere! What about you?"

"I may go to St. Martin in the Caribbean for a week," I said. "I was offered a trip for two there for the success I had with the currency and precious metals trades."

"I was super happy about how much money you made me! Who will you take?"

"One of the girls I'm dating," I replied.

"How many girls are you dating?"

"I'm doing what they called 'playing the field' back in High School. I see different girls at different times, some more than others, some only once or twice. You know my situation."

"You're still waiting on Bev, aren't you?"

I sighed, "That's actually worse than it was. Her parents hired a private investigator to try to find her, and when she found out about it, she freaked out and disappeared with Heather."

"Oh, my!" Violet gasped. "You don't know where she is?"

"No. I really want to help her, but she's not willing. And if I were to try to find her, she might do something even more rash."

"But how will she live?"

"I have no idea. She has some money, not a lot, but I'd estimate enough for four or five months. The problem is, as soon as she does anything like get a job, a driver's license, register her car, or have a credit check for renting a place, the investigator will be able to find her."

"But don't you care?"

"Yes, of course, I care, but there is literally nothing I can do unless she wants my help and allows me to help. I tried to get her parents to call off the investigation, but her mom flat-out refused. I warned them what would happen, and I was right. I wish I'd been mistaken in my analysis, but sadly, I wasn't."

"Are you OK?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I'm not bothered by it. It's just there is literally nothing I can do at the moment except wait, and for me, that's tough."

"Would you take her back?"

"I won't say 'no', but I will say that I'd be very concerned that she'd run away at the first sign of adversity, and that would give me serious pause. If she'd run to me instead of away from me, that would make all the difference in the world. Changing subjects, I did get two tickets for the first Hawks home playoff game at Chicago Stadium. Want to go?"

"Is that even a question?!" Violet asked. "Yes, of course!"

"You know I never make assumptions, but I was reasonably certain you'd say 'yes'."

"What about if they go further?"

"That'll be tougher, but given my success, I can probably get tickets to the second round if they make it, which I think they will."

"I think so, too."

We finished eating, and I helped Violet clean up. As sometimes happened, we were finished earlier than we needed to be, so we went to her front room to listen to music. I sat down on the loveseat while Violet turned on the stereo and tuned to WLUP, then sat down in the large easy chair as she usually did.

"I was thinking," I said, "that once classes end, we should agree one evening a week to have dinner together. Not that we'll only see each other then, but we'll have one day together every week."

"YES!" Violet exclaimed.

She surprised me by jumping up, plopping onto my lap, and hugging me. I hugged her back, and she surprised me further by sighing and snuggling close. Not knowing what to do, I put my arms lightly around her and waited to see what happened.

"Uh, sorry," Violet said about fifteen seconds later, quickly standing up.

"It's OK! You were happy and wanted to show me. I didn't mind; I was just surprised."

Violet laughed nervously, "Me, too. I, uhm, shouldn't have done that."

"Honestly," I said. "It's OK. We hug when I arrive and then when I walk you home."

"Yes, but...always at the door."

"It's fine, Violet. Honest!"

She sat back down and was mostly quiet for the next ten minutes, only answering questions I asked. She'd moved WAY outside her comfort zone of standing hugs and kissing me on the cheek to snuggling in my lap, and she was likely as confused as I was. I liked Violet a lot, we had a lot in common, and we got along really well. The thing was, her situation meant that anything more than friendship was a risky proposition at best and potentially disastrous at worst.

Doctor Lochner had been concerned that I'd push things 'too far' with Violet, but that concern was misplaced. The real concern was whether Violet would decide to test her own limits, and at that point, I'd have some difficult decisions to make. I didn't read anything more into what had just happened than Violet feeling comfortable enough with me to express her affection in a platonic way, but I couldn't know what she was thinking or feeling.

When we left the house to walk to class, Violet seemed to have relaxed, and we talked the way we usually did. When she went into her classroom, I was confident she'd recovered from surprising herself, and I was reasonably sure everything would be back to normal after class.

When I sat down next to Teri in the lecture hall, she said 'hello', and I returned the greeting, but the professor stepped up to the lectern, preventing any further conversation. While I understood Troy's point, I didn't think there was much chance of finding a way forward with Teri, given her belief about sex before marriage and my reluctance to enter into that kind of exclusive relationship where the prospect of sex was potentially years in the future. Anna's approach, and that of Keiko and Deanna, was much more conducive to how I saw the future unfolding.

I'd had several relationships turn sour in one way or another over the idea of commitment, including Phoebe, Huifen, Lily, and most importantly, Bev. That last one was complicated by my complete lack of understanding of the situation until long after the fact. I'd managed to restore things with Lily, but that was because she'd changed her mind on a number of things, something I didn't expect Teri to do.

After class, I met Violet at the coffee shop, and she seemed totally back to normal. We had our pie and coffee and our usual chat about the Hawks, the weather, current events, work, and school, and then I walked her home. I wasn't sure what she'd do, but she gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek as she usually did, and once she was safely inside, I headed home.

"My dad called and wanted to know when you plan to start on the floors of the new house?" Shelly asked when I walked in just before 9:30pm.

"I figured we start painting on Saturday, the 26th, and that we should finish that first, as well as get the new appliances installed before we work on the floors, so probably Monday the 28th."

"He actually suggested you have the appliances delivered after we do the floors so that we don't have to work around them. He suggested if you're trashing everything, you do that right away, paint, refinish the floors, then have the new stuff brought in."

"That makes a tremendous amount of sense," I said. "When we go to Abt on Saturday, we'll arrange for everything to be delivered on Friday, which is April 1st. I'll need to find out about disposing of the old stuff."

"You might want to try for Thursday because the 1st is Good Friday," Bianca said.

"Shows how much attention I pay! Are you going to church with your mom?"

"That little kabuki play is done," Bianca said with a smile, "so no."

"OK. Thursday makes sense."

"Dad suggested a scrapper for the old appliances and gave me a number," Shelly said. "Basically, it's a company that will haul it away for free because they can sell the parts or recover the metal, similar to what junkyards do with cars."

"That sounds like a good plan, too. I had planned to ask Abt if they had a service to haul them away."

"They might," Shelly said, "and that would work, too. We should ask, and then we have a fallback."

"When are we buying all the materials we'll need?" Bianca asked.

"I figured I'd do that on Friday after the closing. I have the day off work because, according to Nelson, a closing can take anywhere from twenty minutes to four hours, depending on any complications that arise, and that seems to happen quite often."

"Do you have a list of what you need? I mean, besides the stuff Shelly's dad said we need to get?"

"Yes. Basically, all the painting supplies, including drop cloths, which I'll offer to Deanna for her studio. The one thing I thought about that's important is two ladders. A step ladder for inside and an extension ladder that would let us get to the roof and second-story windows in the future. I'm sure there will be other stuff we think of, but Venture isn't too far, and there's an Ace Hardware nearby as well."

"That sounds good. Who all is helping?" Bianca asked.

"Besides the two of you, during the day, it will be Dustin, Violet, Keiko, Miranda, Kristy, Allyson, Deanna, Lily, and on the days he isn't on shift, Stuart. In the evenings, Jack, Costas, Trevor, and Archie. I think we have plenty of help, especially with Shelly's dad and his friend helping us on the first day with the floors. The only caveat is that I have my monthly dinner at Jeri's house on Tuesday evening of that week."

"I think we can manage without you for a few hours, though Allyson might not be happy about missing her assignation!"

"I think I might be able to find time for that, given she'll be with us every day during that week."

"Don't forget your promise to us to christen every room in the house!"

"I remember," I chuckled. "Though Shelly's special request will have to wait for the new washer."

"No way!" she exclaimed. "That first, because I bet the old one vibrates like mad, and the new one doesn't!"

I laughed, "Good thinking. We'll just have to do that the evening after the closing before we get rid of the old appliances. If you don't mind, I have a bit of math homework to do."

"Of course not," Shelly said. "Mind if I come to bed with you when it's time?"

"Just you?"

"Yes. Bianca is cool with it. She'll have her turn another time."

"Sure."

I grabbed a bottle of Orange Crush from the fridge, then went upstairs to my room to do my homework.

March 10, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I was jolted awake by the phone ringing. I groggily slipped out of bed and looked at the clock, which showed 2:49am. My first thought was that it was Bev, and she was in trouble, but my second thought was darker -- that something bad had happened to her. I stumbled to the phone and lifted the handset.

"Kane," I said.

Shelly, with whom I'd been spooning, groaned and pulled her pillow over her head.

"Jonathan Kane?"

"Yes," I replied, a feeling of dread filling me.

"This is Tamara Cahill. I'm a nurse at Rush-Presbyterian. Do you know a Miss Violet Clemmons?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Are you related to her?"

"I'm a friend. What happened?"

"Do you know how to get in touch with her family?"

"Her parents are in prison, and her sister is in a mental hospital. Her grandparents are dead, so you won't find a relative. What happened?"

The nurse was silent for a moment.

"She called 9-11 about 10:30pm, saying she was having difficulty breathing and her heart was racing. The paramedics found your card in her purse, along with her psychiatrist's."

"Whatever you do, do NOT call that psychiatrist," I said. "Violet stopped seeing her last September and does not want to see her again."

"I believe the doctor already placed the call."

I groaned because that was very likely the worst thing they could do.

"How is she?" I asked.

"Sedated and sleeping. She appears to have had a panic attack. Is she prone to them?"

On the plus side, if she was sedated, there was nothing Doctor Lochner could do immediately, though I wondered if I could do anything without some kind of paperwork, which I was positive did not exist.

"It's complicated," I replied. "I can explain to the doctor. I'm going to get dressed and come there. Who should I see?"

"Come to the Emergency Room and ask for me, Tamara Cahill. I'm on until 6:00am."

"I'm on my way. I'll be there in less than an hour."

"OK," she said. "Just come to the admit desk."

"Will do."

She disconnected the call, so I hung up.

"What?" Shelly asked.

"Violet is at Rush-Presbyterian. They think she had a panic attack. I'm going to take a quick shower, then head there."

"What was that about her parents being in prison?"

"Don't ask, please, because I promised Violet not to discuss it with anyone."

"Sorry."

"It's OK."

"Want me to come with you?"

"It's not necessary," I said. "Get your sleep. I don't know how long I'll be or if I could get you to Loyola for class."

I went into the bathroom, took a very quick shower, dried off, then went to get dressed. I stopped short, wondering what I should wear. Operating on the theory that people wearing a suit were respected more than people who weren't, and because I would probably go straight to work from the hospital, I dressed in a suit.

Once I was dressed, I left the room where Shelly had already gone back to sleep. I debated making coffee but didn't want to wait, so I left the house, got into my car, and headed for the hospital where I'd last been when Lily's dad had died.

As I drove, I wondered if that brief moment of snuggling was what had caused the panic attack. I couldn't imagine what else it might have been, and given her immediate reaction, I was positive that was the cause.

That reinforced the idea that she should not see Doctor Lochner, who, rather than help her through the situation, would likely insist she stop seeing me. In my mind, if Violet could work through it, she'd be in a much better place, even if it never led anywhere with me or anyone else.

When I arrived at the hospital, I followed the 'EMERGENCY' signs and parked in the lot, then hurried into the hospital. I went up to the admission desk, identified myself, and asked for Nurse Tamara Cahill. A few minutes later, a nurse who was black and who I guessed was about my mom's age, came to get me, and I followed her to a small room with a plaque which read 'Consultation'.

"Can I see her?" I asked.

"She's sleeping at the moment, and when she wakes up, if she's not panicking, we'll ask her. If she is, I'm not quite sure how the rules would be interpreted, given what you said earlier. Can I get some basic information from you?"

"Sure."

"Do you have ID? It'll be easier just to copy the information."

I handed over my driver's license, and she copied the information onto a multi-part form which had the title 'Next of Kin'.

"What's the nature of your relationship with Violet?"

"We're close friends, and I manage her investments. We're not involved intimately if that's what you mean."

"OK. When was the last time you saw her?"

"About 9:00pm," I replied. "We had dinner together at her house, then went to class at Circle, though we're taking different courses. After class, we had coffee and pie, then I walked her home. That's our regular routine every Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday."

"That's some friendship! I didn't see my husband that often when we were engaged!"

"I suspect you'll ask the right questions that will lead to why that's the case, or would you prefer I just tell you about her history and what I think is going on?"

"How much do you know?"

"More than I want to, that's for sure. When we spoke on the phone, I mentioned her parents are in prison, and her sister is in a mental hospital. That's because Violet's parents sexually abused their eldest daughter, and when Violet found out it was happening, they locked her in a cage while the abuse was happening. They'd let her out to go to school, and after a time, I don't know how long, she told someone at the school."

"Oh, my! I recall reading about that case about six years ago, I think. Her parents are monsters!"

"They are. It was in 1977, and fortunately, they're doing twenty-to-life in prison."

"I'm not sure twenty years is long enough."

"Me, either."

"What do you think might have caused the panic attack?"

"When I first met Violet, I obviously didn't know what had happened, and I made a grave error. She sat down next to me in a lecture hall and offered me some gum. I said 'yes', and she tried to tease me by spitting her gum into her hand and holding it out. Me being me, I simply popped it into my mouth and started chewing."

"Wow!" Nurse Cahill said, laughing.

"It freaked her out, as you can imagine, but we got past it, and she told me what had happened. Since then, we've been close friends and have done things together. At first, she was reluctant to have even the slightest contact, which I think you can understand..."

"Especially given the implication that you made by chewing her pre-chewed gum!"

"Yes. Eventually, she became comfortable enough with me to hug me and kiss me on the cheek. I was very careful about never initiating the contact and never kissing her because the last thing I wanted was for her to get the wrong message."

"Uncommonly wise for a man in his mid-twenties."

"You clearly didn't look closely at my license."

She picked it up again.

"Wow! Twenty? And a stockbroker wearing a thousand-dollar suit?"

It wasn't, but it certainly looked it.

"Right place, right time, right skills, right attitude," I said.

"Sorry I interrupted. Go on."

"We spent a lot of time together, as I said, including going to baseball games and hockey games, and she'd join my friends and me to watch football on Sundays. I was her only friend for a long time, but I introduced her to one of my other female friends, and they've developed a friendship, though not as close as the one Violet and I have.

"Anyway, last night, after dinner, we were discussing how we'd handle things once classes finished for the semester, and when I suggested dinner once a week, she was so happy she jumped up and sat in my lap, then snuggled close and sighed. No more than about fifteen seconds later, she jumped up and seemed like she was going to freak out, but she calmed down by the time we got to campus and seemed fine afterwards."

"When she sat in your lap, what did you do?"

"I hugged her back, very lightly, the way I do when she hugs me."

"No eye contact or kissing or anything?"

"No. She surprised me, but even being surprised, I wasn't going to do something foolish. I know her history, and I even met with her psychiatrist a few times."

"Why did you say we shouldn't contact her?"

"The psychiatrist and I got into it over what I perceived as putting shackles on Violet and acting as a puppet master. When I met Violet, she'd barely leave her house except for work in a daycare and her class as Circle. Now she goes out and has another friend. Doctor Lochner was convinced I was going to try to sleep with Violet and couldn't get past that. She was holding Violet back, and once Violet realized that, she canceled her appointments. That was last September, and to my knowledge, Violet hasn't seen her since."

"Do you know if Violet is taking any medication?"

"She had been on mild sedatives until not long before I met her, and before that, on some kind of psychoactive drug, but I couldn't tell you the names of either of them. But, as I said, she hasn't taken them since I met her, which was January of last year. I haven't seen any drug bottles at her house, though I'm not one of those people who rummages through the medicine cabinet when I use the john."

"Has she had a panic attack before?"

"I don't know. In that sense, Doctor Lochner could shed some light, but Violet absolutely does not want to see her."

"A psychiatrist on our staff will see Violet sometime this morning. Doctor Lochner isn't on staff, so until one of our people evaluates Violet, Doctor Lochner won't see her."

"When could I see her?"

"I have to ask her. Do you know if anyone has power of attorney?"

"I do, but it's limited to her investments, so I don't believe that counts."

"No, it doesn't."

"When do you expect her to wake up?"

"I can't say for sure, but the sedative is relatively short-acting, so it will have completely worn off by 6:00am."

That was in about two hours, and it made sense for me to wait.

"I'll wait. Is there a place I can get some coffee?"

"The cafeteria is closed, but I'll get you a cup from the staff lounge."

"Thanks. Is there anything else you need to know?"

"The Psych Resident might come to speak to you, but I have the basic information for her chart."

"Where do I wait?"

"That room with all the chairs? It's called the 'waiting room' for a reason!"

I laughed, "OK, I deserved that."

"You seem like a nice guy, and Violet is lucky to have you."

"Thanks."

"Wait here, and I'll come back with the coffee. Sugar? Creamer?"

"Black, please."

She left and came back about two minutes later with a large Styrofoam cup of coffee, which she handed to me, then escorted me to the waiting room. I had my bag with me, as I felt I might need to go straight to work, so I pulled out the latest edition of The Economist and began reading. About forty minutes later, a doctor who didn't appear to be much older than me called my name.

"I'm Jonathan Kane, Doctor," I said.

"Ben Kelsey. I'm a Third Year medical student. You can tell the difference because med students wear short coats, and doctors wear long coats. I'm here to bring you to see Doctor Baum, my Resident."

"OK. What's a 'Resident'?"

"A junior doctor. They report to Attending Physicians, who are senior doctors. Come this way, please."

I followed him back to the consultation room where a doctor, who I guessed was in his late twenties, was waiting.

"Jonathan, this is Doctor Baum."

"Sidney Baum, Psychiatry," he said, extending his hand.

"Hi, Doctor," I replied, shaking his hand firmly. "Jonathan Kane. How is Violet?"

"She's still sleeping, though she could wake up at any time. I read the notes the nurse made from your conversation, and I also spoke to Doctor Lochner. Doctor Lochner was adamant that you not be permitted to talk to Violet."

I was tempted to say that Doctor Lochner was a control freak who got off on making Violet dance to her tune but decided that wasn't the right approach with a fellow psychiatrist.

"Did Doctor Lochner tell you that Violet had, in effect, fired her in September?"

"Doctor Lochner's opinion is that you forced Violet to stop seeing her because you felt Doctor Lochner was interfering with your attempts to entice Violet into specific behaviors."

"You can be blunt with me," I said. "Doctor Lochner thought I was trying to get Violet into bed, and, to be blunt, that's a load of crap. While the very first encounter with Violet was suggestive, once she explained what had happened, I did nothing to even hint at a physical relationship with Violet. In fact, if anything, I'd say that we've become more like close siblings. I never had a brother or sister, but this is how I imagine that relationship would be.

"Every single hug, which only started after several months of knowing her, was initiated by Violet. When she hugged me, I only lightly hugged her, and despite occasional kisses on the cheek from her, I've never kissed her, tried to hold her hand, or done anything to even suggest I wanted to have sex with her. Doctor Lochner refused to accept that Violet and I could simply be close friends.

"I met with Doctor Lochner several times, and she made it very clear she felt I had ulterior motives and that I wasn't actually interested in being Violet's friend. The thing is, because of the way Doctor Lochner was treating Violet, I was Violet's only friend until late last year when she started spending time with a girl named Lily, a girl I'm dating. I'm happy to call Lily if you'd like. She lives close, and I'm sure she'd come in."

"Did you encourage Violet to stop seeing Doctor Lochner?" Doctor Baum asked.

"I did, but I also encouraged her to find a new therapist if she felt she needed one. I want to point out that before she met me, Violet was basically a shut-in who went to work, went to class, and otherwise had no social life of any kind, and from everything I observed, that is exactly what Doctor Lochner wanted. Since I met Violet, she's made another friend, has accompanied me to baseball and hockey games, has hung out with my group of friends to watch football on Sundays and been to parties at my house."

"You seem defensive," Doctor Baum observed.

"I'm presenting facts," I said. "They might seem defensive to you, but a clearheaded analysis of the situation will show that nothing I've done was intended to harm Violet, and nothing that has happened has actually harmed her."

"And yet, she's in the hospital after a panic attack."

"If I understand correctly, and I admit I'm a layman with no specific medical knowledge, people aren't normally hospitalized for panic attacks. But at 10:30pm at night, what option did she have? She needed a mild sedative, but those aren't available without a prescription, so she called the paramedics for help. As for the cause, I can only speculate, but you should ask Violet and ask her if she wants to see me. As far as I understand, you cannot force her to see Doctor Lochner without a court order, and Violet is under no court orders."

"What do you do for a living, Jonathan?" he asked.

"I'm a licensed financial analyst at Spurgeon Capital, an investment firm."

"Do you think I could do your job?" he asked.

"Anyone can do my job if they're intelligent, have good analytical skills, and are able to piece together disparate information into a recommendation. The pre-med students and nurses I know are all intelligent and have good analytical skills, and as far as I understand, making a diagnosis is exactly like what I do, only with different information. So, yes, you probably could, if you studied my field."

Doctor Baum nodded, "An interesting observation, and one that moots the point I was going to make because you're right. That said, I do have specialized knowledge, just as you do."

"I agree. And that's why I say you should speak with Violet and see what she says. I'm willing to put all my eggs in that particular basket, and I intend to do everything in my power to help Violet."

Doctor Baum nodded, "I understand. I'll speak with her when she wakes up, and we'll take it from there. Ben will take you back to the waiting room."

XXII. It Wasn't You

March 10, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I returned to the waiting room, and shortly before 7:00am, I was surprised to see Lily come through the doors.

"Shelly called me," she said after we exchanged a quick hug. "How is Violet?"

"I haven't been able to see her," I said. "They gave her a sedative, and she's sleeping. I'm waiting for her to wake up so the doctor can speak to her."

"They won't let you see her?"

"I'm not sure. I'm not family, but she doesn't have any family. They called Doctor Lochner, who said I shouldn't be allowed to see Violet."

"But Violet doesn't want to see her!"

"I know that, and you know that, but the doctors have their club, and I doubt they'd take the word of a civilian, so to speak, over the word of a member of the club. Unfortunately, they found Doctor Lochner's card in Violet's purse, so they assumed she was still seeing her. They found mine as well and called me to see if I could direct them to a relative."

"There aren't any," Lily said. "Well, you know what I mean."

"I do."

"Do you know what happened?"

"I can only speculate that it was that she sat in my lap and hugged me. She kind of freaked out after that, but by the time we left for class, she seemed fine. And she was fine when I walked her home. Maybe an hour later, she called the paramedics because she was having trouble breathing and her heart was racing. The nurse said she thought it was a panic attack."

"So now what?"

"Once Violet wakes up, Doctor Baum will speak with her. Beyond that, I don't know what will happen. My biggest fear is that Doctor Lochner will show up and claim she's still Violet's psychiatrist. I can't think of any way to prove that's not the case."

"Wouldn't there be treatment records, appointment notices, bills, that kind of thing?"

"I would think so, but the fact that I don't have any proves nothing. The same would be true if I went to Violet's house and searched and found nothing. As the training manuals at Spurgeon say -- absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. If Doctor Lochner claimed she's been treating Violet, I can't prove that's not the case without records Doctor Lochner controls, and I bet dollars to doughnuts she'd claim 'doctor-patient confidentiality' to prevent me from getting a look at them."

"So what happens if Violet says she doesn't want to see Doctor Lochner?"

"I have no clue. I was considering calling my attorney, who's also a friend, and asking him. He's a business attorney, but as another attorney pointed out, he'll know the rules and procedures in Illinois because he had to in order to pass the Bar exam."

"I think I'd call him. From everything Violet said, Doctor Lochner is a control freak."

"That was the exact phrase I thought of but didn't use when speaking to the nurse. I did my best to try to avoid disparaging Doctor Lochner while making it clear I didn't agree with her. Let me go use the payphone and see if I can catch Nelson at home before he leaves for the office."

I went to the payphone, dropped in two quarters, and dialed Nelson's number, which I had in my pocket address book. His wife answered and called him to the phone. I quickly explained the situation.

"Generally speaking, a patient is in control of which doctors they see, even if they stay in the hospital," Nelson said. "That said, they could put her on what's called a 'seventy-two-hour psych hold', which means she's not free to leave and also limits her ability to select her doctors."

"They can just do that?" I asked.

"If they deem she's a danger to herself or others, yes. It's pretty standard. After seventy-two hours, they would have to go to a judge to extend the hold."

"Can they keep me from seeing her?"

"Yes," Nelson replied. "You aren't a relative, and if she's on a hold, they could exclude anyone, including relatives. If she's not on a hold, it would be up to her, but only during visiting hours. I don't know the policy at Rush-Pres, but in theory, they could say there is no visiting in the Emergency Room."

"Wonderful," I replied. "What can I do?"

"Not much unless you have power of attorney, and the one you have for handling financial matters doesn't count."

"Who makes decisions for her if she can't?"

"The Cook County Public Guardian," Nelson replied. "Basically, a social worker, usually with an advanced degree. Does Violet have a social worker?"

"Yes, though she hasn't seen her in at least six months."

"That's where they'll start. I doubt the state closed the files on Violet, which would mean her case is still active. If I were you, that's the approach I'd take. If they won't let you see Violet, insist they call her social worker. She, and I'm assuming her social worker is female, will have the final say, coördinating with the Public Guardian."

"How can this be fixed in the future?"

"Healthcare power of attorney," Nelson said. "It's fairly straightforward and would be effective so long as no blood relative challenged it. Even then, it would most likely be effective, but you might have to fight it out in front of a judge. Once Violet is out of the hospital, if she's willing, she should sign a power of attorney for someone because otherwise, the State of Illinois will make every decision for her in a medical emergency or in case she's incapacitated."

"So there's nothing I can do now?"

"Legally? No. All you have at the moment is your power of persuasion and Violet's wishes, if they can be expressed, assuming she's not on a psych hold."

"On that, what does it mean to be a 'danger to herself'?"

"It's purely subjective, and doctors have a lot of leeway. It could be anything from not taking care of herself to threatening suicide. It's a huge grey area, and generally speaking, the courts won't overrule the doctors. You would need to hire an independent doctor, then get a court order for him to examine her, and then fight it out in front of a judge. And most likely you'd lose, if you could even make that happen before the seventy-two-hour hold expired."

"Thanks, Nelson. Sorry to bother you."

"It's all part of the service! I'll bill it against your retainer, but you'll make it back in commissions and fees faster than I can bill!"

I laughed, "Not according to Noel Spurgeon!"

"If it will make you feel better, I could bill you $500 an hour as if I were a senior partner."

"Hard pass!" I chuckled.

"Thought so!"

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then went back to Lily.

"He didn't have any good news for me," I said. "We're at the mercy of the psychiatrist here in the hospital, who can basically have Violet held for seventy-two hours against her will if he thinks she's a danger to herself or others."

"Violet? Dangerous? Not even!"

"I agree, but it's a subjective opinion, according to Nelson, and could be as simple as them saying she can't take care of herself right now."

"That's BS!"

"I agree, but in the end, my only option would be to lawyer up and sue, and that's expensive and would probably take longer than the hold, not to mention that's a sure way to lose the debate with Doctor Baum. Somehow, I think if I were to sic a lawyer on him, it would cause him to have a bad reaction."

"Probably," Lily agreed.

Things were bad, but got worse as Doctor Lochner came into the waiting room. She saw me, glared, then went to the admit desk. I considered trying to prevent her from going in but realized I'd have no luck when she showed a medical ID card. They admitted her, and I sank down in a chair, completely frustrated.

"Was that her?" Lily asked. "The woman who glared at you?"

"Yes. And you see right there why we're at a serious disadvantage. I wish I knew who Violet's social worker is, but I suspect I couldn't get hold of her before 9:00am."

"Isn't there an emergency number?"

"I'm sure there is, but I don't know it, and I can't imagine they'd share information with me."

"I think there are social workers assigned to the hospital," Lily said. "One talked to my mom when my dad died. Maybe they could help?"

"Maybe. I think, before I do anything else, I'll wait to see what happens when Violet wakes up. I need to make another call and let work know I'll be late or maybe not in at all."

I went to the payphone, dropped in another pair of quarters, and dialed Rich Chamberlain's direct line. I quickly explained where I was and what had happened, and he said he'd let Mr. Matheson and Anna know as soon as they arrived. I thanked him, then went to sit by Lily.

I remembered I had a lunch date with Marcia, and I'd need to call her to cancel if I couldn't make it. Fortunately, the restaurant was only about six minutes from the hospital, which meant I could wait until 10:45am or so to make that call, though I wondered how Marcia would receive that message.

Finally, just before 8:00am, the medical student, Ben, came to get me and once again took me to the consultation room to meet with Doctor Baum.

"How is she?" I asked.

"Awake, alert, and calm," he said. "You were right in that Violet refused to see Doctor Lochner."

"So now what?"

"Doctor Lochner and my Attending, Doctor Jepsen, are meeting. He'll decide what to do. Doctor Lochner is insisting on a seventy-two-hour hold."

"On what grounds?" I asked.

"Danger to herself, and specifically, danger from you."

"Do you believe that, Doctor?"

"I don't know at this point."

"Can I see her?"

"Not until I hear from Doctor Jepsen."

"Did you speak with Violet about her panic attack?"

"Not yet. I was waiting for her to have her breakfast before I did that. Doctor Lochner showed up while Violet was eating and insisted on the hold."

"Isn't an exam of some kind necessary for that?" I asked.

"Yes. A standard psych eval, except in the case where there's a treating physician, which Doctor Lochner claims to be."

"She's not," I said firmly. "Is it against the rules for you to talk to Violet?"

"No."

"Would you? Ask her again about Doctor Lochner and ask her about what happened last night. And can you do the psych eval?"

"Normally, I would do the eval, but I have to wait for Doctor Jepsen because Doctor Lochner intervened."

"Then just talk to Violet, please."

He was quiet for a moment, then nodded, "Wait here, please."

He left and was gone for about ten minutes, then returned.

"It wasn't you," he said.

"What?!" I asked in surprise.

"I can't share the details right now, but it wasn't you. Let me go see Doctor Jepsen and tell him what Violet just told me. I think it might resolve things in your favor. Wait here, please."

He was gone for twenty minutes and returned with a much older doctor he introduced as Doctor Peter Jepsen.

"Would you explain your relationship with Violet, please?" he asked.

I'd done that twice already but wasn't about to be snide or snippy, so I explained everything I had said to Nurse Cahill and to Doctor Baum. I did add a bit about the social worker, hoping that might help.

"Thanks, Jonathan," Doctor Jepsen said. "Let me confer with Doctor Baum and the social worker assigned to the hospital. This is complicated because you aren't related to her, and she has no relatives we can contact."

"I understand."

"Just wait here, please."

Another fifteen minutes passed before they returned, this time with a woman in her early thirties they introduced as Betty Whitmore, a social worker.

"Ms. Whitmore called her office, and they confirmed the basic details you provided," Doctor Jepsen said. "And they confirmed what Violet said about why she 'freaked out' in her words. Ms. Whitmore?"

"Last night, someone, and I don't yet know who, called and left a message on Violet's answering machine that her mother's application for parole had been granted, and she's being released on Saturday."

"Oh, shit!" I groaned. "No wonder Violet lost it! I thought her mom was doing twenty years, minimum."

"I don't know the details, but there are any number of possibilities, including compassionate release due to health problems, some kind of special plea arrangement, good behavior, and so on. Violet's assigned case worker, Christine Manheim, will get the details and speak with Violet about it."

"OK. What about seeing Violet?"

"I'll approve that," Doctor Jepsen said.

"How is she?"

"Her vitals are stable; she's awake, alert, and oriented."

"OK. I'm going to call my attorney and ask him to send over the healthcare power of attorney forms for her to sign."

"I don't see a problem with that," Doctor Jepsen said. "But I should warn you that Doctor Lochner suggested strongly that she might try for a court order."

"Can she get one?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Doctor Jepsen said. "Ms. Whitmore?"

"I spoke with Violet, and I see no reason to support intervention by Doctor Lochner. I can't speak for my boss, but I would recommend opposing an order. Mr. Kane, if you can get the healthcare power of attorney signed before Doctor Lochner appears before a judge, you can basically foreclose her ability to get an order ex parte. Do you know what that means?"

"Yes, without Violet being there or having a representative there. But I think better yet -- Doctor Jepsen, could you release her? If so, her friend Lily, who's in the waiting room, and I will stay with her today, and I'll get the paperwork done, as well."

"Sidney, what's your opinion?" Doctor Jepsen asked Doctor Baum.

"There is no medical reason to keep her, and as I said to Jonathan earlier, she's awake, alert, and oriented times three..."

"Times three?" I asked, interrupting.

"It's ER shorthand for being aware of their name, their location, and the time or date. Basically, it means she knows who she is, where she is, and what's going on, all of which are indications of good mental function."

"Thanks; sorry I interrupted."

"It's OK. I didn't use that phrase earlier exactly because it's medical shorthand. What I was going to add is that she's no danger to herself, and so long as she has someone with her for the day and someone she can call if she needs help, there's no reason she shouldn't go home. I'll sign the release forms if she wants to leave."

"I'm sure she does," Ms. Whitmore said. "And she did insist, several times, on seeing Jonathan once I told her he was here."

"Ben," Doctor Baum said, "take Mr. Kane to see his friend; I'll complete the release paperwork."

"And I'll go back upstairs and let Doctor Lochner know our decision," Doctor Jepsen said.

"Could you stall for however long it will take to get out of here?" I asked.

"As soon as I sign the discharge, she's no longer a patient," Doctor Jepsen said. "I'll sign the chart now, and then she's free to go, though you should wait for the discharge notes. I'm sure Doctor Baum will complete those quickly."

"I will," he confirmed.

"If you'll come with me, Mr. Kane," Ben said.

I got up and followed him out of the room, then asked if I could duck out and tell Lily what had happened. He agreed, and I gave her a thirty-second synopsis and asked her to wait for us, which she said she would. I then followed Ben to Violet's room where she was lying in bed with a hospital gown on and the covers pulled up to just below her shoulders.

"Jonathan!" she exclaimed.

"Hi," I said. "I arranged to take you home. Lily is here, too."

"You called her?"

"Shelly did. She knew what had happened because the phone woke her up, too, and I told her I was coming here. She called Lily around 6:00am. I promised Doctor Jepsen, Doctor Baum, and Ms. Whitmore, the social worker, I'd stay with you today."

"Did they tell you what happened?"

"They did. And they didn't have any more details but said that your social worker would get the details and get in touch with you."

"What do I do?" Violet asked, shaking.

"I promise I'll protect you," I said. "No matter what."

She visibly relaxed and smiled, "Thank you."

"Doctor Jepsen signed your discharge, so we can go whenever you're ready."

"I, uhm, need to get dressed."

"I'll get a nurse to help you," Ben said. "And your friend can wait outside."

"Thanks," Violet said.

Ben and I left, and he asked a nurse to help Violet. About ten minutes later, with discharge papers in hand, we walked out to the waiting room where Lily was sitting. She hopped up, came over to Violet, and hugged her, and we walked out of the ER. Both Lily and I had our cars, and after a brief discussion, we agreed to have breakfast at the diner where Violet and I usually met after class. Once we were seated, I explained what had happened.

"How can they do that?" Lily asked after the waitress poured coffee for each of us.

"No clue," I said. "I think we have to wait for the social worker to provide more details."

"What can we do?" Violet asked.

"I have no idea," I replied. "When we get to your house, you should call your social worker. She may have some ideas."

"What about an order of protection?" Lily asked.

"We'd need to ask an attorney or maybe the social worker. I'm sure there will be some restrictions for parole, but I have no clue what they might be. For now, let's just have breakfast and then go to Violet's house."

"What about work?" Violet asked me.

"I called in and let them know I wouldn't be in this morning. I need to call back around 10:00am to let them know if I'm missing the whole day."

"I don't want to be alone today," Violet said.

"I have class from 8:30am to 11:00am," Lily said. "If Jonathan stays with you this morning, and I stay with you this afternoon so he can go to work, then comes back for his usual dinner with you, would that be OK?"

"Yes," Violet agreed.

That would allow me to keep my lunch date with Marcia and to work a half day, which, all things being equal, was better than I'd expected earlier in the morning.

"Don't you need to call the daycare?" I asked.

"The medical student called for me at 6:00am," Violet said. "They open then for parents who need to drop off their kids that early."

Friday was going to be a potential challenge, as I knew Lily had three classes, and, of course, I had to work. I decided rather than bring it up, I'd wait to see what happened later in the day. The waitress took our orders, and we sat quietly until our food came. We ate, I paid the check, left a tip, and then we headed for Violet's house, with her in my car and Lily in her car.

At the house, I called the office and let them know I'd be in at 12:30pm, and Lily called her mom to let her know what was going on. I thought about calling Shelly and Bianca but decided it was better not to do that and have Violet worry about what I was saying to them. I made a pot of coffee while Lily went upstairs with Violet so Violet could shower and put on clean clothes. When they came back down, Lily left to go home to get her books for class, leaving Violet and me alone.

"I'm sorry if I caused you trouble," Violet said.

"What kind of friend would I be if I didn't do whatever I could to help you?"

"You got up in the middle of the night, and you missed work."

"Which is immaterial when there's an emergency. Speaking of that, the biggest problem this morning was that I wasn't a relative. I'm curious, but do you have any uncles or aunts or cousins?"

"Not in Chicago, and I haven't heard anything from my dad's younger brother or my mom's younger sister since before...and they're all in California."

"Nelson suggested you might want to sign a healthcare power of attorney. It's similar to the one you signed for the financial services I'm performing on your behalf, but would let someone talk to doctors or make medical decisions on your behalf in an emergency."

"Would you do that?"

"If you want me to, yes, because otherwise, the State of Illinois decides."

"I trust you, Jonathan."

"Are you OK about what happened here last night?"

Violet nodded, "Yes. Doctor Baum said you thought that was what caused my panic attack, but I said it was the call about my mom. He suggested that it might be a combination of the two things. He said Doctor Lochner rejected the idea that it was about my mom being released."

"Of course she did!" I said disgustedly. "She is fixated on exactly one thing, and one thing only, and her tunnel vision is preventing her from seeing the big picture."

"But she's right about what I thought...you know."

"And I would argue that having those thoughts is normal for a twenty-year-old girl. Heck, they're normal for a fifteen-year-old girl and any guy who has entered puberty."

"But it scared me."

I nodded, "I understand, and you know I would never, ever do anything to hurt you."

"I know," she sighed, "but we had that talk about how often we'd see each other and things would be different if we...you know."

"I probably did a bad job of explaining," I said. "I simply meant that I would have to divide my time between you and a girlfriend and that I would find time for you, but not as much as we have now. I didn't mean for it to make you feel pressured."

"But you would want to, right?"

I had to be very careful about how I expressed myself, thinking back to what I'd said to her before.

"I think the best answer is to say that I believe that is part of a committed relationship, though the timing varies based on what the two people think about when it's appropriate."

"You mean before marriage?"

"Yes. I'm not religious, but I know people have religious or other reasons to wait, and as with just about everything else in life, it's none of my business what other people do unless the girl was my girlfriend, and then we'd discuss it and decide together."

Of course, Teri had tried that, and I'd rejected her option out of hand. Weirdly, I couldn't reject that with Violet, even though it was an even bigger gamble than with Teri. With Teri, I could be sure we'd have sex once we were married, and from her declarations, she was very interested. With Violet despite my disdain for Doctor Lochner, I was positive she was right about Violet's situation in that she might never be comfortable with the idea of having sex. And despite my protestations to others about delaying sex until marriage, a 'test drive' with Violet was entirely out of the question.

"Will you answer me honestly?" Violet asked. "Do you want to? With me?"

"I think the only answer to that question is that I find you attractive, and I obviously implied it by putting your gum in my mouth. But that was before I knew you, and once I found out what had happened, I promised myself to never, ever, do anything that might hurt you."

"But do you want to?" Violet said, sounding a bit frustrated.

"The problem with that question," I said gently, "is that it implies that what I might want is what matters most, and that is absolutely not the case. Ultimately, the question is what you want and what you're comfortable doing on your timeline and nobody else's."

"Doctor Lochner said that was the only thing you wanted."

"There are two options -- it's true, and I'm the most patient guy on the planet, or alternatively, Doctor Lochner is an idiot. Which one do you think I believe is true?"

Violet laughed softly, "I think it's obvious."

"Me, too."

"You're the most patient guy on the planet!" she smirked.

I laughed, "You know that's not the answer I would choose!"

"I know," Violet said. "But you laughed."

"I did, and it's good to see you making jokes. Are we having this conversation because that's something you want? I mean, to be my girlfriend?"

Violet sighed, "I don't know if I could ever...be your girlfriend if you know what I mean."

"And that is a very good reason to simply continue as friends. As I said, I'm not getting engaged anytime soon, and who knows what will happen a year or two down the road? But, no matter what, I'll be your friend, and I'll do my best to protect you."

"Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Why don't you call your social worker, and then I'll call Nelson and see about the power of attorney form."

"OK."

Violet made her call, but her social worker had no additional information. She promised to call by the end of the day to update Violet on the situation. Once Violet finished her call, I called Nelson at the office and explained what had happened.

"That's very odd," he said. "I'm no expert in criminal law, so please take this with a grain of salt, but the only thing I can think of off the top of my head was some sort of pre-prosecution agreement. It's possible she coöperated with the prosecution in exchange for a chance at a reduced sentence, contingent on his conviction withstanding appeal and her good behavior. The only way to find out would be to get the court records."

"How difficult is that?"

"It's straightforward, but it takes time and will cost you a few hundred bucks."

"How long?"

"Anywhere from ten days to ten weeks, depending on what's involved. If you find out where the case was heard, that's a head start."

"They lived in Riverside when it happened."

"That's in Cook County. Did she change her name?"

"No. I know that because one of the questions on the Spurgeon forms is any other names she's ever gone by, and there were none."

"Last name?"

"Clemmons."

"That's uncommon enough that it should be easy to find. It'll be something like State v Clemmons. Six years ago?"

"1977, she said."

"OK. I assume you want me to arrange to get the transcripts for you?"

"Absolutely. Also, would you courier healthcare power of attorney forms to my office? I'll get them signed tonight."

"You want to have them notarized," Nelson advised. "That takes away any question about the signatures because the notary is considered an officer of the court."

"OK. I'll have Lily bring Violet to the office later this afternoon and have one of the secretaries or someone in Personnel notarize our signatures."

"I'll get right on it. Would you put a check in the mail for $500 to replenish your retainer? It will be depleted by all of this."

"I'll courier it to you tomorrow."

"No need. Just drop it in the mail. I know where to find you!"

I laughed, "That you do. Thanks, Nelson."

"You're welcome. On another topic, when I came in this morning, there was a copy of the inspection report for the house on my fax machine. I didn't see anything amiss."

"Excellent. Thanks."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then explained to Violet what I'd asked Nelson to do.

"But she'll be out before we get those files, right?"

"Unless there is something your social worker can suggest, I don't see how it could be stopped. I know I have no rights in the matter, and I have no idea what your rights might be. But if there was some kind of agreement with the prosecutors, I'm not sure how anything could be done about that. The only way to find out is to get the documents, which will take at least ten days and could take longer. Well, unless your social worker has more information."

"We'll find out this afternoon, I guess."

"When did you last see Rose?" I asked.

"Just after Christmas. She was so drugged up she didn't even know I was there. I decided to go only once every three months. I don't want to abandon her, but it's hard to see her when she's basically completely out of it. The three times they've tried to reduce the amount of drugs, she's totally lost it. The first time, she tried to kill herself."

I couldn't imagine having to live with what had been done to her, and I wasn't surprised at the suicide attempt, which I thought Violet might have mentioned before.

"You don't have to tell me, but what medications did they have you on?"

"Seconal, which is a sedative, and an experimental drug called fluoxetine, which is an antidepressant. They worked really well."

"Experimental drug?"

"It's one that is awaiting full approval by the FDA but can be used in controlled conditions. It worked perfectly."

I wouldn't say it, but that was actually useful information for me, and I'd ask Tony to look into the manufacturer.

"And you haven't taken anything since December of '81, right?"

"Right. Well, they gave me something last night, but I don't know what it was. Maybe look at the papers they gave you?"

I looked over the form and said, "Nembutal. I have no idea what that is other than Doctor Baum and Nurse Cahill referred to it as a sedative. The form here also says you should see a mental health professional for treatment for panic attacks."

"Doctor Baum suggested I see a clinical psychologist because they do behavioral counseling and can't prescribe drugs because they aren't medical doctors, even if they might have a PhD and call themselves 'doctor'."

"That sounds like a good idea."

"He said there would be a name on the form."

I didn't see it, so I flipped to the second, then the third page, which was a referral.

"Nancy Jane Moore," I said. "The address is on Halsted, and there's a phone number."

"I should call and make an appointment."

She took the paper from me and called the psychologist's office. She explained what had happened and that she had a referral from Doctor Sidney Baum. A few minutes later, she hung up.

"Saturday morning at 9:00am," Violet said.

"Good. Are you going to class tonight?"

"Yes. And I think I'll go to work tomorrow."

"Will you be OK tonight?"

"I think so. I'm calm now; I just freaked out last night."

"Do you need to do anything today?"

"I could do my grocery shopping because I'll be at the psychologist's office on Saturday morning."

"We have enough time before I have to leave, so let's do that. We'll be back before Lily's class is out."

We did that, and Violet seemed like she was doing OK, but I suspected the call from the social worker that was coming might upset her. If so, I'd do what I could when I returned for dinner, which Violet insisted she wanted to make and said she'd invite Lily to join us. When Lily arrived at the house just after Violet and I returned from shopping, I filled her in, then left to have lunch with Marcia.

I arrived a few minutes early and waited to be seated until she arrived promptly at 11:30am. The hostess seated us, and a waitress immediately took our drink orders. We both perused the menus and ordered when the waitress returned with our Cokes.

"You're over your snit?" Marcia asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," I said. "You refused to say a word on the trip back from Waukesha except when you asked me to stop at the oasis on the Tri-State so you could use the facilities."

"You don't think I had a right to be upset?"

"You don't think I had a right to be upset at you, simply assuming I'd go to bed with you. That actually bothers me more than anything else. But maturity means having open, honest conversations."

"Did you just call me immature?"

I wanted to say, 'If the shoe fits, wear it!' but that would only make things worse, and we appeared to be off to a poor start as it was.

"Refusing to speak to me on the drive back was immature behavior," I said. "That doesn't mean you're generally immature."

Refusing to have an open and frank conversation about sex was also immature, but I was trying mightily to stay away from that topic, even if Marcia seemed determined to pick up the argument where we'd left off despite the impasse created by her refusal to have that conversation.

"You really love to play word games, don't you?" she asked.

"No, I like to be precise. To you, it sounds like word games; to me, it's making myself understood. I want you to know what I mean, not just hear what I say. It's too easy for Miss Communication to interfere in a relationship, and I'd prefer to banish her along with Miss Information, Miss Interpretation, and Miss Understanding! Those girls cause nothing but trouble!"

Marcia laughed, which was my goal with the silly play on words.

"See?!"

"I enjoy playing with words, yes, but that's different from playing word games."

"Pedantic as ever."

"I make my living by being pedantic in the same way lawyers do, ensuring that what I say is understood precisely in the way I mean it. I'm not a politician, and I'm not going to use weasel words, though I will state clearly when I'm not sure about something. My boss expects clear, concise, accurate communication, and I do everything in my power to deliver that. And it seeps into my private life as well because it's a mode of thinking."

"Logical and analytical to a fault!"

"Maybe so, but that's better than being emotional and haphazard."

"What about spontaneity?"

"Being spontaneous doesn't mean rejecting logic! It just means analyzing things quickly so your thought process doesn't interfere with doing something spontaneously. I have done things on the spur of the moment with only the briefest analysis. And, if I may point out, you're one of the least spontaneous people I know! You plan things in advance; you just don't telegraph them."

"Do you ever stop?" Marcia asked, clearly frustrated.

"You asked a question, and I answered it. That's how conversations work, in case you haven't noticed. One person makes a statement or asks a question, and the other person responds with a statement of their own or a question of their own."

"You just proved my point!"

"I didn't mean for this to become adversarial," I said. "I truly wanted to see if we could restore things to the way they were before Wisconsin or before I spent the night at your place."

"Can you roll back the clock that way?"

"No, but you can consider it 'water under the bridge' and reset. As far as I can tell, neither of us did anything that is necessarily fatal to a friendship. Was I annoyed and frustrated? You bet. Were you annoyed and frustrated? Absolutely. I can set that aside and move forward if you can. But as I said in Wisconsin, the ball is in your court if you want to talk or not."

"THAT again?" she asked, exasperated.

"I meant in general," I replied. "YOU keep coming back to that, and if you drop it, there won't be any conflict at all, at least from my perspective. I take pride in being consistent, and while I fail at times, I have consistently said that the only reason to have that conversation is if we're going to get involved physically. If you want that, and it sure seems to me that you do, then you have to talk to me. If not, then there is no need to discuss it, and we can move forward."

"Talk about being full of oneself!" Marcia said.

"Oh, for Pete's sake!" I exclaimed, unable to contain my exasperation. "Will you drop the double standard and admit that if I had booked a single hotel room for the two of us on a trip, you would have been offended by the assumption?"

"And the first night I invited you in?"

"We discussed that! What you assumed about me was incorrect. I didn't assume anything. I recognized the possibility and chose to accept the invitation. I expected absolutely nothing. If I had invited you into my place, you might have thought I wanted to get you into bed, and that would probably have been true, but I would never have assumed you would go to bed with me simply because I wanted you to."

"You're pissed," Marcia said as the waitress brought our food.

"No, I'm frustrated. And doubly so because you seem to think you know better how I think and feel than I do! Whatever happened in your past has totally messed you up, and it appears that going to bed together created an insurmountable obstacle to even being friends. That actually disappoints me, but I have no idea how to solve this problem. I suggest we eat our lunches and get back to work. I'm not sure talking anymore will be productive."

Marcia frowned, nodded, and began to eat.

XXIII. The Ball Is In Your Court

March 10, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

There was something very wrong with Marcia, but I couldn't put my finger on what it might have been. The only clues I had were that she had claimed to be a party girl in college and that she was ready to settle down. Neither of those things really explained her behavior, and there wasn't much I could do if she wouldn't talk to me while at the same time continually bringing up the topic of sex.

In my mind, Marcia was even more confused than Violet, who at least understood her circumstances and was willing to talk about them, albeit mostly via inference. I wondered if I should have given Violet a more direct answer to her question, but the last thing I wanted to do was pressure her or put her in a position where she was so uncomfortable that she wouldn't want to be around me, which seemed to be the case with Marcia.

When I arrived at the office, I went immediately to see Mr. Matheson.

"Is your friend OK?" he asked.

"Yes. She's out of the hospital, and another friend is staying with her this afternoon. The doctors say she'll be OK."

"Good to hear. Will you need more time off?"

"I don't think so."

"Any word on your passport?"

"No, but I am taking Mr. Spurgeon's advice on who to take with me."

"You lucky dog!" he said in a clearly jealous tone. "Just let me know when, and I'll approve the vacation time for both of you."

"Thanks. Let me get to work. Anything I need to know?"

"Nothing big so far today. Just the usual arbitrage plays and managing the foreign currency accounts for our clients. Foulks is at a client meeting, and Monroe is meeting a prospective client. Both are out of the office."

"OK. Sorry about the morning analyst report not being available."

"You taught me to use the Bloomberg terminal so I could get the news summaries; it just took longer than reading your one-page daily analysis. Get to work!"

"Right away!"

I had just over four hours to do what would normally be a day's work, and I couldn't stay late because I had to go to class. That meant coming in early in the morning, but I could do that as I didn't have plans for after my usual coffee and pie with Violet. I worked as quickly as I could, but gathering and analyzing the information couldn't really be sped up. I was at my desk, only getting up three times -- once to get a cup of coffee, once to return it, and once when Lily and Violet arrived to sign the healthcare power of attorney that Nelson had couriered to me.

At 5:00pm, I packed up my satchel and headed for the elevator. Anna caught up with me and stepped onto the elevator with me.

"Is everything OK?" Anna asked.

"Yes. My friend had a minor crisis, but she's OK, and a mutual female friend is helping out, too."

"I would expect you to be a loyal friend."

"I try," I said. "Mr. Matheson said he'd approve simultaneous vacations as soon as I get my passport, which should be in the next few weeks."

"Remember, you promised to go to the nude beach with me!"

"I remember! I'll let you know when my passport arrives."

"Great! Are you free next week?"

"A week from Saturday?"

"Sounds great!"

We parted on the ground floor, with Anna heading for the L while I went to the parking garage to get my car. Twenty-five minutes later, I rang the doorbell at Violet's house and wasn't surprised when Lily opened the door.

"How is she?" I asked quietly. "I didn't want to discuss it when you came to the office."

"She seems to be her usual self," Lily replied. "She's making dinner, is in good spirits, and is still madly in love with you."

I nodded, "I know, but..."

"She told me everything," Lily said, interrupting me. "I know about what happened to her, and that explains a lot."

"It does. Did the social worker call?"

"Yes. She tried to get in touch with the prosecutor who worked the case, but he's no longer with the State's Attorney's office, and that was when Bernard Carey was State's Attorney."

"Carey became President of the Cook County Board," I said. "What now?"

"They're researching the case and should have an answer tomorrow."

"OK. Thanks for staying with her."

"I'm going to have breakfast with her in the morning before she goes to work, and I go to class."

"Great!"

We went to the kitchen, where Violet was putting the last touches on dinner.

"How are you?" I asked.

"What?" Violet asked with a smile. "Lily didn't fill you in at the door?"

"She did, but I felt I should ask how you're feeling."

"I'm OK. Nervous about what will happen, but not like last night."

"And you'll be fine tomorrow?"

"I think so. I'm obviously worried that my mom will try to contact me."

"I don't know much about how it works, but I'm sure there are rules for parolees. I suspect your social worker will know. You should ask her."

"I will," Violet said. "Dinner is ready. We'll eat in the dining room."

We had a very nice dinner, then the three of us cleaned up, and when it was time to head to class, Violet and I walked Lily home, then headed to Circle. After I walked Violet to her classroom, I headed for mine and saw Teri standing outside, so I went up to her.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi. Can we have coffee and talk?" she asked.

"We could," I replied. "How about Saturday afternoon? If you want to meet for dinner, we could as well. I don't have plans for Saturday evening. If that's too much like a date, coffee is fine."

Teri laughed softly, "I'm not going to turn down a free meal!"

"OK. I'll pick you up around 5:30pm. Where would you like to go?"

"I should say Chez Paul!"

"Well, given how much of a dog you think I am, I could make a comment about that, but I'll refrain and ask you to make another choice."

"I actually want to hear what you were thinking; I promise not to be upset by it."

"That Chez Paul would warrant far more than just a good-night kiss!"

Teri laughed, "That is exactly what I expected you to say!"

"And I hope you know it's not true. I'd never expect a quid pro quo, so to speak."

"Most guys at school think a date with dinner and a movie warrants a make-out session."

"I'm not most guys, despite your belief that I'm a dog!"

"How about the Parthenon in Greek Town?"

"Perfect."

We went into class, and just over two hours later, I met Violet at the diner for pie and coffee, as we regularly did after class. She seemed fine, and when I walked her home, she gave me a hug and kiss, though the hug lingered a bit more than usual.

"You're sure you're going to be OK?" I asked when she broke the hug.

She nodded, "I know you'll protect me, so I feel safe. And Lily is really sweet, too."

"She is. If you need anything, and I mean anything, including just wanting to talk, call me any time, day or night."

"Thanks," she said, then gave me a very rare second hug and an even rarer second kiss on the cheek.

Once she had gone inside, I headed home.

"You should have called," Shelly said as soon as I walked in the door.

"You're right," I admitted. "I thought about it, but you would have been in class, and then I was busy. Violet is fine now."

"What happened?"

"Let me change, then let's sit with Bianca, and I'll explain as best I can."

Shelly agreed, so I went upstairs and changed from my suit into sweats, then went downstairs, got a glass of ice water, and went to the front room.

"I have to limit the details I give, but what I can say is that Violet's panic attack wasn't related to me but to something that happened before we met. Both her parents are in prison, and her older sister is in a mental hospital."

Both Shelly and Bianca gasped.

"Whoa!" Bianca exclaimed.

"What Violet found out was that her mom was being paroled as of Saturday, and that caused her to freak out a bit."

"What did they do?" Shelly asked.

"I'd prefer not to say, except that they were sentenced to twenty-to-life, but for some reason, which we don't know, her mom is being paroled after only six years."

"You know that's public information, right?" Bianca asked. "It would be fairly easy to find out why they were incarcerated. I remember from civics class in High School that all criminal trials have to be public, and the records available, with only limited exceptions."

She was right, I was sure, because I remembered the same thing from my civics and government class Freshman year. Of course, she, or anyone, would have to do the research, and I suspected it would only take a few phone calls and a fee of some sort, and they could find out. For all I knew, you could simply call the prison and ask why someone was incarcerated. It was something I'd have to ask Nelson when I spoke to him.

"They were convicted of molesting Violet's older sister," I said.

"Holy shit!" Shelly gasped. "Your own kid? And the mom, too?"

"That is what Violet said, and I have no reason to doubt her, given both her parents are in prison."

"No wonder her sister is in a mental hospital," Bianca said. "Wait! Did this happen in Riverside six years ago?"

I nodded, "Yes."

"It was a huge thing back when I was a Freshman in High School. Of course, they didn't give the kids' names, but I remember the arrests and prosecution were all over the news. No wonder she freaked out."

"Yeah. Nelson is getting the records from the trial so we can try to figure out why she's being let out early. His speculation is some kind of pre-trial agreement, you know, a plea bargain."

"I agree with Bianca -- no wonder Violet freaked out," Shelly said. "But she was OK when you left her?"

"Obviously, or I wouldn't have come home. Lily and I would have worked something out for one of us to stay with Violet, or I'd have brought her here and she could use the bed in the computer room. I did tell her to call anytime, day or night. If she calls when I'm not here, you should call Lily."

"Maybe get one of those beepers doctors have," Bianca suggested. "They send radio signals to notify you, and then you call a number to get your message."

"I bet those are expensive," I said. "And I think with Lily being close, it doesn't make a lot of sense. Violet also has an assigned social worker and is seeing a psychologist, so there's backup if she can't reach me instantly."

"She's dependent on you," Bianca observed. "That could turn ugly."

"A thought which has crossed my mind," I said. "I plan to see her once a week once the semester ends, and we'll take it from there. But I'm fully aware of the potential problem."

"I'm going to guess that what happened when she was growing up is the impediment."

"You would guess correctly," I replied. "All I can do is be her friend and do my best to help her."

"You're a loyal friend," Shelly observed. "That's one of your redeeming qualities!"

"And the qualities that need to be redeemed?"

"You're a bit too logical and analytical," Shelly said. "And please take this in the tone it's meant, you can be a bit self-centered."

I nodded, "Yes, but as I've said, and I've heard others say -- you are the one who has to look out for your own best interest, not rely on others to do it for you. I know that comes across as self-centered, and some people consider that acting selfishly or being an asshole, but in the end, I don't see any other way to be successful.

"My counter to that observation is that I don't define self-interest in the way some people do. In my mind, there are many circumstances where it's in my best interest to let someone else have the upper hand or the better part of the deal. And as I've said before, my clients' best interest is always my best interest. Spurgeon and Matheson only care about the almighty dollar."

"That sounds like a distinction without a difference," Bianca objected. "Because to make money, they have to keep the clients happy, which is your argument."

"The difference is that for them if they can make more money by putting the client second, within the regulations, they will; I won't. I know that might be a fine line of distinction, but I want to have the reputation that if you trust me with your money, you'll make more than I do, and I will never put you in an investment where I can gain if you lose."

"Have they done that?" Shelly asked.

"I have no idea," I replied. "But I would never say what Spurgeon said to me -- 'go make me some money'. I'd say, 'Go make us' or 'Go make our clients'. It wouldn't be about me, even though it might appear that way to an outsider. Heck, I wouldn't name my company after me, either. The focus has to be on the client, not on the broker or money manager.

"But all of that said, I am going to 'look out for number one' because it's the only wise thing to do. That doesn't mean I don't care for my friends or that I'm not loyal to them, just that I have to take care of myself. Even Christianity has that basic tenet -- self first, THEN neighbor!"

Bianca laughed, "Good point! Love your neighbor as yourself implies that you have to love yourself first."

"Bingo. Granted, they put God before everything, but as I don't believe in any gods, I think philosophical necessity requires me to place myself first because the only references I have to anything are my perceptions and my thoughts. There is no external 'guiding force' or anything like that, no 'Platonic Ideal', by which I measure myself and others."

"This conversation is WAY too deep for Thursday night at 10:00pm!" Bianca declared. "Especially without beer or wine to lubricate it!"

"I have a bit of homework, so I'll have to pass on the lubrication."

"Well, I won't, if you let me join you after your homework," Bianca offered sexily.

"Give me about forty minutes to finish my homework, but also be aware I'll be up an hour early tomorrow so I can get to the office early because I missed half of today."

"Then I'll join you, but sleep with Shelly afterwards."

I agreed and headed upstairs to do my homework.

March 11, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Friday, except for starting early, was a typical day at the office, including going to the gym with Anna. Just after 2:00pm, Violet called.

"There was some sort of plea agreement," Violet said. "My case worker asked for the details, but she hasn't received them and said it might take a few days. She also said that she spoke to the parole officer who would be responsible for my mom, and she, the parole officer, said my mom's parole could be revoked if she contacted me."

"How are you doing?"

"OK, I guess. My case worker gave me the phone number for the parole officer and said to call if my mom does anything, including sending me a letter because that would be a parole violation."

"I'm assuming you want your mom back in prison?"

"Yes, but unless she violates her parole or commits some new crime, she gets to stay out. At least that's what my case worker said."

"I suspect she's right, but I still want to see the details, which hopefully will take less than ten weeks. You have your appointment with your therapist tomorrow, right?"

"Yes."

"Call me if you need anything at all, OK?"

"I will. See you Monday."

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, and at 5:00pm, I left the office. I met Jack, Kristy, and Ellie, whom I'd invited to join us in the building lobby.

"Dinner at Trattoria No. 10, then Second City e.t.c.?" Kristy suggested.

"What's that?" I asked.

"The restaurant or the club?"

"The club. I know Trattoria No. 10 is a nice Italian place around the corner from Maxim's."

"The club is an adjunct to the main club, which is too touristy. There's a local standup show tonight with three or four up-and-coming Chicago comedians. We should have no trouble getting in. The main stage is showing Exit, Pursued by a Bear, which is about a female author who rewrites Romeo and Juliet to be a feminist statement and is murdered. The mystery is played as a comedy. I'm not sure there are tickets available for that."

"I'm OK with either of those," I said. "Ellie?"

"Me, too," she agreed.

"Then let's go!" Jack declared. "Jonathan, we'll need to drive to Piper's Alley, I think."

"That's Old Town, right?" I asked.

"Yes."

"I agree. We can catch the 151 bus, which will take us basically right to Maxim's. After dinner, we can take the 151 bus back here and drive north."

"Sounds like a plan," Jack said.

We headed for the CTA bus stop and didn't have to wait too long for a bus to come. Because we were basically at the far end of the route, which headed to Union Station, we found seats even though it was rush hour.

"Anything new on the house?" Kristy asked as the bus traveled along Michigan Avenue.

"Nelson, my attorney, received the inspection documents, and everything is arranged with Spurgeon to wire the money to the escrow account, so it's just a matter of paperwork two weeks from today. Well, and then all the work we're going to do the following week. Ellie, are you going to be around?"

"I am. There's nothing really going on, and I'm not going away. Do you need help?"

"The more, the merrier," I replied. "There's a lot to do."

"When can we move stuff into our room?" Kristy asked.

"After we finish the floors," I replied. "The plan is to move all the appliances out, paint, refinish the floors, then have the appliances delivered on Thursday. I'd say that's the day you could move stuff in, given what Shelly's dad said about the floors. We'll cover them in butcher paper to protect them when we move in, which was another suggestion he made.

"My goal is to get the painting done by Sunday, and then first thing Monday, we begin working on the floors. Shelly's dad and a friend will help, and they're renting a machine that will let us strip and sand the floors quickly. Supposedly, it's like those machines they used in our High School to wax the floors."

"That should go fast then, right?"

"He figured we could easily do the entire house in a day, and as soon as a room is stripped, the new finish can be applied. He suggested two coats of oil-based polyurethane, and each coat takes eight hours to dry. That means there should be no problem with Thursday, as we should finish no later than Tuesday afternoon, and that would give the floors at least thirty-six hours to dry before we have the appliances and furniture delivered. I plan to rent a truck for Friday to move all of our stuff."

"OK," Kristy said. "That's Easter weekend, and we're having dinner at my parents' house on Sunday, so we'll probably move everything on Saturday."

Once we pulled away from the last stop before ours, Jack pulled the cable to signal we needed the bus to stop, though given it was rush hour, I was positive there would be people at the bus stop. When the bus pulled up, we exited via the rear doors, then walked the short distance to the restaurant.

Dinner was excellent, and after we finished eating, we took the bus back to the Hancock Center, retrieved my car, and headed to the comedy club. The four stand-up comedians were hilarious, though one of them clearly outclassed the other three. When the show ended, I drove Jack and Kristy to the L, and then Ellie and I headed back to the house.

"Keiko told me she's moving into your new house," Ellie said once we were alone.

"She is, as is my friend Deanna, the artist. Deanna will actually set up her room as a studio."

"I got the impression from Keiko that there was more going on."

"Keiko and I click, but you know I'm not ready to commit to anyone."

"I know," Ellie said. "I guess I'm just a bit bummed you like her more than you like me, and I introduced you to her."

"I don't know what to say beyond what we discussed the last time we were together. I think I may have made an assumption I shouldn't have made. Should I take you back to Loyola?"

"No way! I want to fuck! I was just saying I was a bit bummed, but you've told me the truth all along."

"And I really should have asked you before simply heading for my place."

Ellie smiled, "I get why you say that, but I told you last month what I wanted when it was clear that this isn't leading to anything permanent."

"Even so, I have to ask -- do you want to come to the house and spend the night?"

"Seriously? Duh! You know I want to!"

"I made the point with someone recently about making that assumption about me, and I have to hold myself to the same standard."

Ellie laughed, "Oh, come on! Show me a guy who doesn't want to get laid! It's the safest bet on the planet."

"You'd lose that bet with present company."

"You fuck anyone who asks!" Ellie protested.

"And that's the key word -- asks. Nobody should assume I will just because they want to. Someone made that mistake."

"You turned someone down? Seriously? Even after the baseball games?"

"Yes, seriously. And think about those -- nobody assumed anything. I was asked in advance, each girl was asked, and I insisted nobody be pressured."

"But why turn down a willing girl? Was something wrong with her?"

"It's difficult to explain without violating confidence, but basically, a girl who I felt wasn't compatible assumed I'd share a bed with her on an overnight trip. I tried to discuss it with her, as I had tried several times in the past, but she wouldn't have the conversation. I pointed out the double standard that she'd be offended if I had done the same thing, and she refused to accept that."

"But every guy I know would go for it!"

"Not true! I just disproved that. You're repeating the same stereotype and double standard. It's a variation on the 'guys are studs, girls are sluts' stereotype."

"You're serious?"

"Deadly."

Ellie was quiet for a minute, then nodded, "I think I see your point. But in our case, we're basically fuck buddies, and I simply assumed you asking me out included sleeping together. And I assumed that because of our history. And I wasn't wrong, and you weren't wrong in that I want to."

"All true, but what I said is also true -- I should have asked you. Not because of anything you've done, but to be consistent."

"Something you strive for, along with honesty and integrity."

"You don't have to butter me up," I chuckled. "You can have your way with me when we get to my house."

Ellie laughed, "I sure hope so!"

March 12, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Saturday morning, after breakfast, I drove Ellie back to Loyola, then returned to the house so that Bianca, Shelly, and I could do the grocery shopping and stop at the dry cleaners. Once we finished our errands, we headed for Abt, the appliance store.

"You're replacing everything, right?" Bianca asked as I pulled into the parking lot.

"Yes -- refrigerator, range, and dishwasher, and we'll need a washer and dryer."

"You should get a microwave oven," Shelly suggested. "My parents have one, and it's super convenient, especially for heating leftovers, popping popcorn, and cooking frozen vegetables."

"Any idea what color you want?" Bianca asked as we got out of the car.

"Black, most likely," I replied. "I like the look of stainless, but in looking at the ads in the paper, stainless is way more expensive. And white just doesn't do anything for me."

"That explains Keiko!" Bianca teased.

I laughed, "Nice, but you know I don't discriminate."

"Oh, yes, you do!" Shelly declared mirthfully. "Huifen? Keiko? You have a thing for Oriental girls, for sure! And Mexicans run a close second!"

"So sue me!" I chuckled. "And you know I think you're one of the prettiest girls I know. Strawberry blonde is right up there!"

"And yet, I'd wager you end up with a Japanese or Chinese girl," Shelly said.

"I'll end up with the right girl for me, white, yellow, olive, brown, or black."

We walked into the store and were immediately greeted by a salesman. I let him know we wanted to look and that I'd come to find him if I had questions or when I was ready to buy. He reluctantly allowed us to walk away, and we went to look at refrigerators first.

"Do you even KNOW any black girls?" Shelly asked as we stood in an aisle with a dozen refrigerator models lined up side-by-side. "I don't mean to imply you're racist, but where you work is basically all white, right?"

"A pair of Indians by way of England, one Chinese guy from Hong Kong, and one Spanish guy who joined recently. The rest of the staff is lily white, as they say. I saw the same thing at Nelson's law firm."

"It's a major problem," Bianca said. "It's tough for minorities to get hired as lawyers, doctors, bankers, and so on. And companies like Spurgeon and whatever law firm Nelson works for only hire whites, and I'm not including Chicanos because we're discriminated against as well."

"Deciding based on skin color is bullshit," I declared. "But I think the problem starts earlier because I don't see that many minority kids at Loyola, and I didn't when I hung out briefly at IIT, either. Well, lots of Indians and Chinese, but very few blacks or Mexicans. Circle has more minorities, but it's still mostly white and predominately male."

"I'm one of two girls in my two CS classes," Bianca said. "And it's basically all white, Chinese, or Indian."

"Then the three of us have to resolve to do our part to fix that as soon as we're in positions to do so."

"Deal!" Bianca agreed.

"Not sure what I can do with English Lit, but I'm in," Shelly offered.

"Easy," I said. "Encourage minority students to go into professional fields and young women, as well. There are zero female traders at Spurgeon. There are two female attorneys at Hart-Lincoln, but neither of them are partners. And I only saw male doctors in the hospital. All the women were nurses, as was the social worker."

"Years down the road, though," Bianca said. "More immediate are the appliances."

"I think this one," I said, indicating a large side-by-side refrigerator freezer with an automatic ice maker. It also had a dispenser in the freezer door that had both cubed and crushed settings, as well as chilled water.

"I'll take notes," Shelly offered.

She wrote down the model number, and we moved to the gas ranges, where after comparing the units, I went with a standard four-burner range and oven in the lower mid-range of price. Shelly wrote that down, then we looked at dishwashers, washers, dryers, and microwaves, and Shelly recorded the options.

"Good thing you got that bonus!" Bianca observed.

"Even without it, it's not a stretch because with six people paying rent, my housing costs are next to nothing."

"And ours are going down, too," Shelly replied. "That made my dad very happy."

"I never asked, but what does he think about you and Bianca?"

"All he knows is that we share a room, same as what Bianca's parents know. I don't think either set of parents is enlightened enough to accept that we have sex with each other and with you!"

"The hilarious thing is that my grandmother knows and is OK with it," Bianca said. "And she's the one who said not to tell my dad!"

I chuckled, "Dads do have different opinions. Bev's dad was back and forth on what he thought about us sleeping together."

"I don't think sleeping was what he was worried about!" Shelly teased.

"Obviously," I replied with a knowing smile. "But he didn't know until after Bev got pregnant, and at that point, he knew there was no possible way Heather was mine. Let's go find the salesman."

We did, and he got an order sheet, and we walked back to each area, and he did his best to try to upsell, but I knew what I wanted. I'd checked prices in the paper for about a month, so I knew that the prices the store was offering were decent. When he offered '90 Days Same As Cash' with ten percent down, I accepted because that would mean I could hold on to the cash for ninety days from delivery, and that meant I'd earn interest while paying none.

"Can you deliver on Thursday, March 30th?" I asked.

He consulted a sheet of paper and nodded, "In the afternoon."

"Perfect," I said.

He completed the order sheet, I signed it, then wrote a check for ten percent of the purchase price. A copy of the order and a receipt in hand, we left the store. Our next stop was Wendy's for lunch, then we headed to an electronics store Tony had recommended, and I purchased a projection TV and VCR for the basement rec room.

"What about a pool table?" Shelly suggested.

I shook my head, "A nice idea, but it will take up too much space in the basement. I figure that's our main place for parties, and we'd lose all the dance space, and it would make the wet bar and TV area crowded. I'll worry about that in the next house."

"Stereo for the basement," Bianca said.

"Shit!" I swore. "Good point. Let's go back inside! I want to have that for the housewarming party."

Thirty minutes later, we were on our way home, with all the deliveries scheduled for Thursday, March 30th. There would be other things we would need, including area rugs, but those could wait for a time, especially given I didn't want to try to store things in the current house only to have to move them.

At home, I showered, dressed, then called Violet to check on her. She was doing OK, and after a short conversation, I headed to Bridgeport to pick up Teri so we could have dinner. I wasn't calling it a 'date' in my mind because she'd simply asked to talk, and despite what Troy had said, I was skeptical there was a way forward. I simply couldn't countenance marrying anytime soon, and several years of enforced chastity was simply not an option.

At Teri's house, Troy greeted me at the door, invited me in, and introduced me to his mom and dad. About a minute later, Teri came down the stairs, looking very pretty in a grey wool skirt and tight green sweater, which complemented her eyes, with her red curls hanging down over her shoulder blades. The sight was jaw-dropping, especially given I'd only seen her in jeans and relatively loose-fitting sweaters with her hair pulled back.

She greeted me, said 'goodbye' to her parents, and we left the house. As we walked to my car, I considered the implications of her clothes and hairstyle. Was there some way forward I hadn't considered? And if so, what might it be? And even if there was a way, was it something I wanted to pursue, given that I felt there was some truth to what Shelly had said about Japanese and Chinese girls?

The drive to Greektown was short, and we rode quietly with just the radio playing. At the restaurant, we were seated quickly, as we were early for a Saturday, and they weren't yet too busy. The waiter took our drink orders, and we looked over the menus. When he returned with our Cokes, we ordered, and he left to put the orders in with the kitchen.

"Troy said he spoke to you," Teri said.

I nodded, "And I think I owe you an apology because even after our last date, I blamed your adherence to Catholic teaching for your views on pre-marital sex."

"People are more complex than you seem to think," Teri said.

I nodded, "I understand that, but I hope you'll make an allowance for my history with devout, or even semi-devout, Catholics. I'm not talking about stereotypes but actual experience. That said, I'm not sure...you know what? I should let you say what you wanted to say before I say something foolish because I made bad assumptions."

Teri smiled, "That's a positive development."

"Let's just say that I've had to consider the implications of assumptions I've made based on difficulties I've encountered because of assumptions that were made about me."

"You mean by me?"

I shook my head, "No. There's a difference between inference and assumption. You inferred things about me from things I said and voiced those thoughts. That's different from simply assuming something was going to happen and acting as if it was a foregone conclusion based solely on your assumption."

"You're going to have to give me an example if you can."

"When we first discussed a date, I inferred from your wanting to go out with me that it was possible that we'd have sex; I didn't assume that was true."

"A nuance I'm not sure has a practical difference," Teri observed.

I considered and decided I could draw an example from what happened with Marcia and generalize it.

"Consider two scenarios. We agree to take an overnight trip together, and you ask if I mean separate rooms. I say 'yes', but when we arrive at the destination, there's only one room with a king-size bed."

"I'd be pretty upset."

"Exactly," I replied. "Now, consider the same scenario, except I book two adjoining rooms but ask you to sleep in my bed with me. You say 'yes' and we do, or you say 'no' and we don't. See the difference between the two scenarios?"

Teri nodded, "I wouldn't be upset in the second one, and even if you assumed we'd sleep in the same bed, you wouldn't have done something to try to force the issue, which is important."

"Just so we're clear, I would never expect someone to have sex with me, or even assume they would, unless it was clearly communicated. And that doesn't have to be with words."

"And if you miss the signals?"

"I'd expect the girl to say 'no' firmly if I tried to go further than she intended. And I could say 'no' as well. There are no double standards in that regard. And I'm a firm believer that 'no' means 'no' and 'yes' means 'yes'."

"Have you heard the one about the difference between a diplomat and a lady?"

"No."

"If a diplomat says 'yes', he means 'maybe'; if he says 'maybe', he means 'no'; if he says 'no', he's no diplomat. If a lady says 'no', she means 'maybe'; if she says 'maybe', she means 'yes'; if she says 'yes', she's no lady."

"And that right there is an argument for simply being direct! Think about how much trouble that could cause either with diplomacy or relationships!"

"Have you heard the saying about letting your 'yes' be 'yes' and your 'no' be 'no'?"

I shook my head, "No. I mean, I know the oath in court about telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, but not what you said."

"Actually, it's Jesus' teaching about not making false oaths and simply telling the truth."

"He did have some good things to say," I replied. "It's his followers who are the problem!"

"Including me?"

"I think that depends on how you follow Jesus. My knowledge is limited, but from what I do know, he focused on telling people to love each other, treat each other right, and not be hypocrites. And he saved his strongest condemnation for holier-than-thou religious leaders. That's a program I can get behind!"

Teri laughed, "An interesting take which actually fits the Synoptic Gospels -- Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Most Christian doctrine comes from Saint Paul."

"Which ought to tell you something. But I don't think you wanted to discuss religion."

"Why wouldn't I? It's an area where we'd need to find a compromise, right?"

"That's true, but can we really find a compromise? We've staked out what are effectively opposite positions with no middle ground. May I try to boil it down to a pair of simple statements?"

"Sure."

"My position is that I'm not ready to marry and that a long period of forced chastity is not something for which I could sign up. Your position is that you want to be a couple and that chastity is necessary until marriage. Does that about sum it up?"

"It does."

"So that leaves two options -- a short engagement and a quick marriage or no relationship."

"I guess it comes down to how badly you want to get me into bed," Teri said with a smirk. "Do you want it enough to marry me after I graduate in June?"

"I would never make a decision on a lifetime commitment based on my desire to have sex with a girl."

"Except that's exactly what you're doing -- making a decision about your future wife based on a desire to have sex, in the sense of excluding anyone who won't have sex beforehand."

"A point of view I hadn't considered that has some interesting implications."

"Next question, and this is just to confirm what you said to me -- if you met the right girl, you'd be open to changing your mind about when you want to get married."

"I did say that, yes."

"And you're attracted to me, right?"

"Obviously."

"And I'm attracted to you."

"Obviously," I smirked.

Teri laughed, "Smart aleck!"

"I try."

"If we could find a reasonable compromise on religion, is there anything other than your arbitrary timeframe that would prevent you from marrying me?"

"I'm not sure we know each other well enough," I replied.

"In the Biblical sense?" Teri asked. "That's a serious question, by the way."

"That's not a primary consideration," I said. "But compatibility is important."

"Well, unless they totally lied in health class and anatomy class, or you're abnormal in some way, I'm pretty sure things will work the way they're supposed to!"

"It's more complicated than that," I protested.

"Don't mistake my resolve to wait until my wedding night for prudishness, lack of desire, or inhibition. I believe I can say with reasonable certainty you won't be disappointed."

"Did you just propose?"

"No, because we still have to work out a few things and get to know each other better. May I suggest a possible way forward?"

"You may."

"We date until I graduate in June. You propose or you don't after graduation. If you do, we marry as soon as possible. If not, well, then we go our separate ways."

"Direct and to the point," I said.

"The same as you. The ball is in your court."

XXIV. Pointless and Boring

March 13, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"What did you say?!" Bianca asked when Bianca and I were in the kitchen on Sunday morning after I related what Teri had said.

"That she'd given me something to think about and that I'd see her Monday at class."

"You do realize that I think that would be a huge mistake, right? And I don't mean just from a selfish perspective."

"What would be a huge mistake?" Shelly asked, coming into the kitchen and sitting down at the table with Bianca and me to have breakfast.

"Teri basically proposed at dinner last night," I said. "With the suggestion, we marry in June or July."

"NO WAY!" Shelly exclaimed. "What did you say?"

"Exactly what I just said to Bianca -- that Teri had given me something to think about."

"That's like a one-eighty on her part, at least from what you've said."

"Actually, not, given what her brother said to me. It neatly eliminates my main objection, and she pointed out that I was, in effect, making a decision about my wife based purely on my desire to have sex."

"You want her that badly?" Shelly asked. "I don't believe it because I've seen you have fantastic sex with some smoking hot girls. And I mean as an eyewitness!"

"Present company included, of course!" Bianca interjected. "And I mean both of us!"

"Actually, she made the point, correctly, that I was rejecting her because I had no desire to be chaste for a long period of time. And she negated that objection by basically cutting to the chase."

"Wait!" Shelly protested. "You're seriously considering it?"

"Of course he is," Bianca declared. "He's evaluating it as he would any other potential investment opportunity. He's not one to reject something out of hand simply because it challenges his thinking. That doesn't mean he'll say 'yes' to her, but it does mean he'll give it fair consideration."

"What she said," I chuckled.

"And you're weighing the pros and cons, right?" Shelly asked.

"Yes."

"Sex with one girl for the rest of your life," she said with a smirk. "Pro or con?"

"Yes!" I replied, causing both girls to laugh.

"That's actually the basic question Jonathan is asking himself with regard to what I've suggested," Bianca said. "He just hasn't boiled it down to that essence."

"I'm not sure that's true," I said. "I understand your point, but that's not really it. In fact, I can't tell you why, other than it has always felt right. And yes, I suspect it has to do with social convention and the direct effects of Christianity on society, but it makes sense, and I wouldn't be doing it because I felt compelled but because I wanted to."

"Maybe I distilled it too far, but in the end, isn't that the essence?"

"No, I think it's more about being a couple and what's called a 'nuclear family'. I mean, yes, the point you made is valid; it's just not the whole answer."

"Just out of curiosity, how would something like that work practically?" Shelly asked. "Would she be OK with sharing what would be 'her' house with six other people besides you? All of whom, except Jack, were your former lovers, and with whom you had deep, intimate relationships? And more importantly, what about Violet?"

"Believe it or not, Violet is the biggest obstacle because I was adamant with her that I wasn't going to get engaged anytime soon."

"Because you think she might decide she does want to go to bed with you."

"That's not the question," I said. "She wants to, but given the circumstances, I'm not sure she's psychologically able to, or ever will be. That said, I have to at least give her the chance to go to counseling."

"Would you marry her? I mean, in June or July? I mean, assuming she got past her problems?"

"I think that would be awfully fast," I replied. "For a host of reasons."

"But Teri is a real possibility?" Shelly asked.

"In the sense that it's possible for me to say 'yes', then she is. But I think my answer to Bianca's questions about Violet means that I have to say 'no' to Teri. The challenge is that if I say 'no' to any girl who wants a committed relationship, I'm potentially missing out on the girl I should marry. And this is starting to drive me nuts because I don't feel I should even be considering something like that, but I have to."

"I think you're encountering the real world where people have different agendas, and you have to adapt to them," Bianca said. "Growing up, it was basically just you and Bev, right? I mean, you knew other people, but she was the only one you were close to. And you guys saw eye-to-eye on pretty much everything."

"I'm not sure that's true, given what happened during the second half of my last year in High School, but we certainly didn't have any open conflicts."

"And you both saw a future where you were together because you'd always been together, even if you didn't think of it as being married, right?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"And now you've encountered people with differing goals and viewpoints, and you have to respond to them. Keiko is playing the long game, as is Deanna, but they have their goals. The same is true for Anna, Teri, Beth, Shelly, me, and all the other girls. I think there are only three ways to avoid the situation in which you find yourself -- a committed relationship, no relationship of any kind, or a string of one-night stands that are just sex and don't even develop into a friendship. None of those three options satisfies you, so you have to adapt."

"Which," I replied, "means navigating a minefield of not saying 'yes' or 'no' while not missing out on the person who might otherwise be right, even if the timing isn't perfect. Things were so much easier with Bev."

"Which is part of the problem, isn't it?" Shelly asked. "Relationships are challenging, and you have to work hard at them. You didn't with Bev, and so in your mind, all relationships should be simple and easy."

"I think you're on to something," Bianca said. "That would explain why there have been several 'crash and burn' incidents in Jonathan's life."

I nodded, "Lily once used the phrase 'starter boyfriend' and I see some validity in that. I learned from that and from the disaster with Rachel Kealty, the trouble with Marcia, and why Phoebe and Clara walked away. Part of it is communication, in fact, maybe most of it, but there were also wildly diverging views and goals. Maybe I just have a mental block about relationships."

"I think," Bianca said, "that in your heart-of-hearts, you want Bev, and you aren't going to do a thing until you're convinced, logically, and yes, emotionally, that you can't have her. I think your gravest, most deep-seated fear is entering a committed relationship, or worse, getting married, only to have Bev come back and say she's ready to be with you. That would create the ultimate nightmare scenario for you -- go back on your word or your commitment, or be forever unhappy. Both are untenable."

I considered Bianca's analysis for a moment, then said, "I don't think I can deny that."

"OK to venture a bit further into your psyche?" Bianca asked.

"Has anything stopped you before?" I chuckled.

"This might be a bit over the line."

"Well, now you have to say it!"

"I think your promise to Violet was defensive in that you are reasonably convinced she's not going to get to the point where she could marry you, and as such, a promise to her to 'not marry soon' ensures the possibility of Bev stays open, and you can justify it by pointing to Violet."

"Speaking of pulling no punches," I said, shaking my head.

"It's the perfect defense, though, right? By telling yourself that you have to give Violet a chance, you committed to not telling any other girl 'yes' before you're confident about Violet's inability to enter into a marriage. And that gives you breathing room. Remove her from the equation, and what's your rationale for not saying 'yes' to Teri? From what you've said, she's intelligent, pretty, and interesting, and minus you wanting to get into her panties, there's no conflict."

"Religion," I said. "She goes to church, and I feel she'd want to keep doing that."

"But you're OK with that so long as you don't have to make any promises, right?"

"In theory, but what Rachel said keeps coming back -- you can take the girl out of the Church, but not the Church out of the girl. It really comes down to how devout she is. You rejected all of that, but not immediately. When we first met, you talked about a church wedding."

"That went out the window when I tasted pussy for the first time!" Bianca smirked. "But I see your point. And that's more support for Shelly's point about Keiko specifically and Oriental girls in general. They do not have the same concept of religion as the other girls, who are almost all Catholic. Deanna is, right?"

"Was," I replied. "She hasn't been to church since she decided to become a 'bad girl'. And I don't see any conflict there, as her outlook is closer to mine, which is true of Keiko and was true of Huifen. It's different from Rachel in that Deanna has never once raised the topic except in a negative way, and really only to mention she went to Catholic High School."

"So you need someone spiritually compatible, which, in a way, isn't much different from the girl who wants a Catholic wedding. You know Shelly and I aren't atheists, but the three of us are still on the same general page, even if she and I are agnostics who lean towards theism. What about Violet?"

"She's never once mentioned it, and I don't even know if she went to church when she was little. I can't imagine she'd believe in a benevolent deity after the evil that was perpetrated by her parents. Let's be honest -- how could a god who was 'good' allow that to happen to a kid? It boggles the mind. And no, I'm not interested in a debate because as I see it, it all comes down to some kind of hand-waving saying it's not the fault of the alleged all-powerful god."

"I'm there with you on that one," Shelly said. "But now it sounds as if you've gone full circle and are back to thinking about Teri."

"Because I can, in effect, split the difference," I said. "Go out with her, then decide in June what to do. It's not as if either of us is doing anything irrevocable or unalterable. And none of the other girls will make a fuss about that."

"And what is Teri going to say when you take Anna to Saint Martin?" Bianca asked. "I know you won't lie, but will you omit the fact that you're taking her? And I'm jealous, by the way!"

"I hadn't considered how Teri might react because I hadn't considered there was a possible way forward with her. I'm going to have to think more about it. I have at least until tomorrow evening at class to decide on a short-term course of action."

We finished our breakfast, cleaned up the kitchen, then made a fresh pot of coffee before we went to the front room to relax. I'd just sat down with my fresh cup of coffee when the phone rang, and I got up to answer it.

"Kane," I said.

"Jonathan, it's Esme! I was calling to confirm that Katy and I want to see you a week from Sunday, as we planned."

"It's on my calendar," I said. "It'll need to be in the evening because we'll be finishing up painting the new house during the day."

"That works. What time?"

"Let's say 7:00pm? Do you plan to stay overnight?"

"I want to, but I'm not sure I can swing it. Katy could, for sure."

"It was simply a question of setting expectations," I said.

"OK. Jasmine said to say 'hello' and wondered if she could see you."

"I'm pretty busy the next few weeks," I said. "But once I move into the new house, things will calm down a bit. Let's talk in April."

"Cool! I'm really looking forward to Sunday! I can't wait!"

"See you around noon," I said.

We said 'goodbye' and I hung up, then, because I was going to be with Deanna, made my usual Sunday call to my mom. She was doing fine, and nothing had changed, so the call was short. After I hung up, I went back to the front room.

"That was Esme," I said. "Confirming a week from Sunday, in the evening after we finish painting and cleaning the new house."

"I'd pay good money to see that!" Bianca smirked. "What time are you picking up Deanna today?"

"11:30am, and we're going to Gold Coast Dogs for lunch. She's never had a Chicago-style hotdog."

"No, just a Kane-style sausage!" Shelly teased.

"We're heading out about the same time," Bianca said. "We'll be at Shelly's house for dinner, and home around 9:00pm."

Which had been fortuitous, given what Deanna had proposed we do after lunch.

"OK. Deanna is staying."

"Is Keiko staying on Monday as usual?"

"Yes."

"I know you're having dinner with Lily on Tuesday. What about Wednesday after class?"

"No plans, why?"

"You still need to earn your red wings!" Bianca smirked.

As adventurous as she was, I wondered if there was anything Bianca wouldn't do, and decided the answer to that was that she'd likely consider doing just about anything as an experiment.

"And you'd get off on that?" I asked.

"I get off from your tongue every time!" Bianca declared. "But I'll kiss you after, and even better, suck you after we screw."

"Let's talk on Wednesday evening."

I read the Sunday Trib while the girls did homework, and we all left the house at the same time. I picked up Deanna, we had lunch and then headed to Rogers Park, where we'd stop at the video store before heading to the house.

"Sophie suggested we rent Insatiable in addition to The Opening of Misty Beethoven. She said the sex in Insatiable is hot. Both movies together run less than three hours."

"And she wants me to feel as if I'm inadequate?" I asked with a smirk.

Deanna laughed, "Her comment was that John Holmes was so big that if he ever got fully erect, he'd pass out from the lack of blood flowing to his brain!"

"A friend described that scene, and let's just say I was impressed!"

Deanna laughed, "Says the biggest guy Sophie, Ivy, or I have ever been with!"

"The thing is, I've never in my life seen one erect besides my own, so I have no clue, as one point was made in health class by my teacher -- there are 'showers' and there are 'growers' and you can't know for sure the size that will result."

Deanna laughed, "Your health class seems way more cool than mine! Of course, I went to parochial school, so it was a nun who probably had less of a clue at forty than we did at thirteen or fourteen!"

"Never had a desire to be a nun?"

"Not even on my worst 'good girl' day!" Deanna said with a laugh. "Even at twelve, when they asked about vocations, I knew I eventually wanted to have sex. Of course, then I believed it would be on my wedding night with my husband!"

"As opposed to your wedding night and not with your husband?" I asked with a goofy smile.

Deanna laughed hard, "I love your sense of humor. It's a perfect mix of innuendo, sarcasm, and wordplay."

"You don't have to butter me up to have your way with me!"

"Speaking of butter, have you seen Last Tango in Paris?"

"No. Why?"

"There's a scene where Marlon Brando uses butter to lube his girlfriend's butt before he forces her to have anal sex."

"I sense a pattern here," I chuckled.

"You're the one who brought up butter!"

"And YOU brought up anal sex!" I countered. "Again!"

"So sue me if I'm curious! Aren't you?"

"I've done it and was nonplussed, and I am decidedly NOT curious about being on the receiving end!"

"But you didn't say 'no'."

"You're right, and I didn't say 'yes' because, as you said, you'll decide if you want to ask, and if you do, I'll decide my answer. Fortunately, we at least have an instructional video available to view!"

Deanna laughed, "You say that in jest, but according to Sophie, that's actually the premise of Misty Beethoven -- teaching a girl to be a sex goddess. Think Pygmalion or My Fair Lady."

"I've never seen either of those."

"I take it you also didn't go to plays? My Fair Lady is a High School staple."

"I worked every day after school and on weekends, so, no. I saw fewer than five movies at a theatre growing up, including Star Wars and Star Trek: The Motion Picture."

"Science fiction is your thing?"

"Bev and her dad were both into Science Fiction, and I did watch reruns of Star Trek on TV, but I prefer mysteries."

"She's the one with the kid, right?" Deanna asked.

"Yes."

"Do you still have a thing for her?"

"Bianca would say the answer is an unequivocal 'yes', and I suspect Bianca is correct. But so much has happened that I don't even know if I'll ever even hear from her again."

"But she could simply swoop in and scoop you up at any time if I'm reading the vibes right."

"Another theory that Bianca and Shelly have. I don't have a good answer to that question."

"This is NOT me pressuring you, but at what point does she hit 'you snooze, you lose'?"

"That is the question I've been asking myself. And it's one reason I'm not ready to make any commitments to anyone."

"I like you," Deanna said with a smile, "and I want to fuck you, but I sure as heck don't want to marry you when I'm nineteen and you're twenty! We're not even full adults yet! I think I should at least be able to buy a drink before I get married!"

"But after you buy your first drink?" I asked.

"Ask me then! Who knows what will happen in the next couple of years? You've already agreed to commission some paintings, let me move into the house, and are the best fuck I've had. So from the perspective of this nineteen-year-old, we're right where we should be, and the future can worry about itself!"

"That makes a load of sense."

"Of course it does! We're not in an agricultural society where girls are married off at fifteen to make them somebody else's problem! And the Pill lets us express our sexuality in ways that no farmer of the past would accept for his daughter!"

"I don't think it was just farmers!"

Deanna laughed, "Yeah, my dad would not be happy that I 'lost my virtue' here in Chicago. The thing is, I didn't lose it or my virginity! I know exactly where they went, and I have no regrets. It's none of my dad's business, even though he thinks it is."

"Too many people think it is, including religious leaders, politicians, and the run-of-the-mill busybodies."

"Remember what I said about the way I'm dressed -- it screams, 'I do not give a fuck what anyone thinks'."

"Including me?"

"I actually do care what you think, but you prefer me with NO clothes, right?"

I chuckled, "I think going out in public without clothes might get us both into trouble!"

"OK, I have to ask, but would you go to a nude beach?"

"Funny you should ask," I replied. "Someone challenged me to do just that when I'm in Saint Martin later this year."

"I'm going to guess it wasn't a guy," Deanna said with a sly smile.

"You would guess correctly."

"Why Saint Martin?"

"The trip is a reward for making the Big Boss a pile of money so far this year."

"Along with the companion?"

"I'm allowed to take someone, but the girl I asked was not assigned to take the trip!"

"Someone from work?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes. If it were anyone but this person, I'd have some reason to be suspicious, but this is someone who expressly rejects the company culture."

"I'm going to ask again -- are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be about anything. I trust what she said in the same way I trusted you were on the Pill."

"You don't think it might be some kind of trap?"

"What am I? James Bond with the Lektor?"

Deanna laughed, "It's been known to happen, and given stuff you've said, I wouldn't put that past them as a way to get the upper hand."

"I hear you, but the facts don't fit that analysis. And to be equally direct, are you angling for me to take you instead?"

"I'd be an idiot not to!" Deanna declared. "I'm not the jealous type, but I sure wouldn't mind a trip to the Caribbean!"

I pulled into the small parking lot next to the video store, we got out and went inside. I showed my membership card, and we were admitted to the 'Adults Only' back room, which was separated from the rest of the store by a black curtain. I quickly found the two empty boxes for the movies we planned to rent, and then we browsed.

"Some of these titles are just silly!" Deanna declared. "9 Lives of a Wet Pussy with 'Cat' in a different font and Bat Pussy with a caricature of Bat Girl. Or Flesh Gordon!"

"OK," I said, "how about Mona the Virgin Nymph, 2069: A Sex Odyssey, or The Spirit of Seventy-Sex?"

We spent a few more minutes laughing at the titles, annoying a guy in his forties who was in the room as well, but that was his problem, not mine. Deanna and I left the room, and I went to the counter, showed my card, and handed over the boxes. The clerk retrieved the tapes, put them in the boxes, and put them in a bag. I paid the fee, $10 per movie, as they weren't included in the membership.

"Ten bucks each?" Deanna asked.

"New releases of regular movies are $3.50, and older movies are $1.50," I said. "Well, once you go over the limit for your membership. Mine is four movies, and it's $10/month. But if you think about it, the regular movies all were in the theatre and can be played on TV, possibly with some editing, whereas porn absolutely can't be on TV, even the pay channels. Well, what my friend called 'soft-core' can, but not stuff like we just rented."

"What's the difference?"

"I actually couldn't tell you for sure. I know you basically can't even show breasts on regular TV unless it's something like National Geographic on PBS. Heck, you can't even swear on broadcast television, which was the point of the George Carlin skit. I know there are slightly different rules for late-night TV, but not different enough for porn."

"I didn't ask, but are your housemates home?"

"No. They went to Shelly's house and won't be home until after 9:00pm."

"Did you arrange that?"

"No, it just worked out that way."

"How conveeeenient!" Deanna exclaimed.

We arrived at the house, I parked the car in the garage and we went inside. We got Cokes and some chips and went to the basement to use the projection TV.

"Which one first?" I asked.

"Insatiable," Deanna said. "Save the training video for last!"

I chuckled, "OK."

I put the tape in the VCR, turned on the TV, then pressed 'Play'. I sat down next to Deanna and watched as the movie began. The star, Marilyn Chambers, was totally hot, but there was absolutely no plot.

"Oh, sure, start off with girl-on-girl," Deanna griped.

"I don't see the problem there," I chuckled.

"Of course not, because you're a guy!"

"You do remember I live with two girls who are bi, right?"

Deanna laughed, "So old hat for you, then! Let's just say I don't mind seeing it, but I'm not interested in carpet munching! You, on the other hand, are!"

"True!"

The next scene was contrived to allow 'Sandra', Marilyn Chambers' character, to give a blowjob.

"Is it just me, or is this pointless and boring?" I asked.

"I don't think it's just you," Deanna replied.

The third scene, on the snooker table, was the one that everyone who had mentioned the movie to us said was so hot, but the dialog was so bad and the scene so contrived, it simply wasn't exciting.

"If you ever say 'suck it like you want me to fuck you', I promise to bite it off!" Deanna said.

"Trust me, I won't. And what was that bit about slapping her mons with his dick?"

"No clue," Deanna said. "I thought you might know because it sure wouldn't do anything for me."

The next scene was another actress and a guy, followed by a foursome with 'Sandra', two guys, and a girl. When that scene ended, John Holmes came into the picture.

"Jesus," Deanna said. "They weren't kidding! That thing isn't even fully erect!"

I chuckled, "I'll stick with mine, thanks."

"Me, too!" Deanna said, shaking her head as Holmes did his thing, including having anal sex with 'Sandra'. When he left, she looked over at the screen and begged for more.

"I sure hope the other movie is better," I said as I got up to rewind the tape.

"Sex in the pool would be fun," Deanna said.

"That was the girl-on-girl scene!" I reminded her.

"Get that fantasy out of your head!" Deanna declared. "I'm liberated and open-minded, but not so much that my brain will fall out!"

"You're the one who mentioned sex in the pool, and it was only girls in that scene!"

"Oh, stop!" Deanna ordered, but she was laughing.

I swapped the tapes, pressed 'Play', and sat back down. The only thing I could say about The Opening of Misty Beethoven was that it at least had a semblance of a plot and scenes other than a bed, the pool, or the pool table. It was 'educational' in the sense that 'Misty' was being taught to seduce and pleasure men, but the sex scenes weren't all that thrilling.

"Whoa!" Deanna gasped when the scene we'd been waiting for played out. "He's fucking one girl while the other one does him with the strap-on! Wild!"

"That's one word for it," I replied.

"Uncomfortable?"

"Let's just say that it's not something I would seek out."

"But if I asked?"

"First, I'd wonder where we'd find something like that. I don't think they sell those things at Jewel-Osco!"

Deanna laughed, "No, but you can buy a 'personal massager' that is bullet-shaped. Guess what it's meant to massage, even if they can't say it!"

"Internal massage?" I asked with a smirk.

"Exactly!" Deanna replied. "Ivy has one."

"I thought she got laid enough that she wouldn't need one!"

"You're just not creative enough!" Deanna smirked. "Think about where it might go if she and Sophie were playing around with their married professor."

"Never mind! I get the picture!"

"So, what do you think?"

"That both movies were silly and boring."

"I meant about the dildo, you dope!"

"I recall the deal was you decide if you want to do it, then ask me, and I'll answer."

"Let me think about it," Deanna said. "I can ask Sophie where her professor got his harness and dildo, if I decide I want to. But forget that for now! How about Chinese and then sex?"

"Sounds like a plan!"

March 14, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"What's the scoop for this week?" Deanna asked as we approached her dorm in my car on Monday morning.

"I'm actually pretty busy for the next two weeks with the new house and other stuff," I said. "Thursday night would work, if you want to stay over."

"No girl in her right mind turns down great sex! What's the scoop for the new house?"

"I'll sign the papers a week from Friday, and we'll start working on the house on Saturday. If you can be there around 7:00am on Saturday, that would be cool."

"I could. Pick me up?"

"Would you mind if I ask Lily to pick you up? She's coming from University Village and will bring Violet with her."

"Sure. That's cool."

When I stopped, Deanna leaned over for a kiss, grabbed her bag, and hopped out of the car. Once she was in her dorm, I headed to the Hancock Center. I had been surprised she hadn't asked her question, and I wasn't sure that if she did ask that, I could go through with it. It was, as the saying went, outside my comfort zone.

At the office, I followed my usual routine of making a fresh pot of coffee, talking with Rich about the overnight markets in Asia and Europe, then began working on my daily analyst report, which I turned in before Mr. Matheson arrived. The rest of the morning was spent analyzing South African mining companies and the political situation.

The Krugerrand, a one-ounce coin, accounted for something like 90% of the sales of gold coins in the world, but some activists were agitating for importation and possession outside of South Africa to be banned to punish the government for their Apartheid policies. I had no use for the racist government and no control over what they did, but I really had no alternative but to deal in the Krugerrand, given its ubiquity. The same was true for stocks in South African mines, whether they were gold, diamonds, chrome, manganese, platinum, palladium, or any of a host of other minerals.

Demand for platinum and palladium had risen significantly in the previous years, as they were key components in catalytic converters, which had been required in the US since 1975. Europe hadn't yet mandated them, but I suspected that was coming and made a note to research that during the afternoon. When that regulation came into effect, it would drive global prices higher and the mining stocks with them.

The new analyst and the new secretary were brought in by Personnel just after 11:00am, and I spent forty minutes with Ben before I ate lunch at my desk. I worked out with Anna, and when we returned to the office, a package from Kasia was on my desk. I spent an hour looking over her finances and investments and felt my original analysis was correct -- she should shift her IRA into an S&P 500 fund, though I calculated she could safely if she chose, invest about $5000 in my fund. I made some notes, then spent the rest of the afternoon with Ben.

Just before the end of the day, I called Kasia to let her know what I'd concluded.

"You said I'd need to make regular additions to the investment in your fund. In what amounts?"

"I'd say at least $1000 a year," I replied. "But don't reduce what you put in your IRA because that accumulates completely tax-free, which gives you a significant compounding effect. You'll only pay taxes at withdrawal."

"Let me speak to my parents," she said.

"Just remember, anything will be in your name unless you set up some kind of trust. I can't use three slots."

"I understand," Kasia said. "Is everything set for your closing?"

"As far as I'm aware. No changes to the plan to turn over the keys to you, as we agreed."

"Great! Let's have dinner sometime next month."

"Sounds good."

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, spent another fifteen minutes on research, then left the office together with Anna.

"What do you think of Mia?" Anna asked.

I laughed, "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

"She just might have the biggest breasts I have ever seen in my entire life!"

"She's going to have terrible back problems when she gets older!" Anna observed.

"Does she have any skills?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm sure she does!" Anna declared. "Just not secretarial!"

"That's what I suspected when I saw her. Hopefully, she learns fast."

"How is the new analyst?"

"He seems like he knows his stuff," I said. "Married, two kids, and had worked for the bank on their fixed income team for six years. He has an undergraduate degree in business and a Master's in finance from the University of Chicago."

"What are we doing on Saturday?" she asked as the elevator reached the first floor.

"Same as last time, if that's OK. Dinner and companionship?"

"It's OK to say 'dinner and sex'!" Anna said lightly. "I agree! What about Thai food?"

"Fine with me! Star of Siam is pretty good."

"Then that's what we'll do! See you for lunch tomorrow."

She went towards the doors while I went to the parking garage so I could drive to Violet's house for dinner before class.

"How did things go on Saturday?" I asked after she greeted me with a hug.

"Great!" Violet replied. "I really like the counselor, and I think she's going to help. I was a bit nervous when she asked about you because of what happened with Doctor Lochner, but she said she didn't have any concerns."

"Good. Will you see her regularly?"

"Once a week for up to thirteen weeks. She says that's usually enough, and it's often only eight weeks. It's about developing strategies for dealing with stress and things which might cause panic attacks without resorting to drugs."

"That sounds great! Is everything else OK?"

"Yes. Come to the kitchen so I can finish making dinner."

I followed her to the kitchen, and the conversation continued as she told me about her day at work, which mostly involved caring for toddlers.

"I did fill out an application at a plumbing company today. I saw a 'Help Wanted' sign on Saturday, but the office was closed."

"What kind of job?"

"Clerical. I know how to do all the tasks, which involve checking shipping manifests against what was actually received and then checking manifests against bills, plus filing, typing, and answering phones."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed for you! If you need a personal reference, I'm happy to be one."

"I hope you don't mind that I did that without asking first."

"I don't."

"Thanks."

Violet got dinner on the table, and we sat down to eat. Thirty minutes later, having eaten and cleaned up, we headed for Circle for our classes. I walked Violet to class, happy she seemed to have been able to move past the initial shock of the news of her mom's release from prison. I was also happy that her psychologist was suggesting only short-term counseling and was focused on helping her function rather than holding her back, as I felt Doctor Lochner had.

As I walked towards math class, I debated what to say to Teri. I had given it serious thought, and I had concluded that Bianca and Shelly were likely right, that I was holding out hope for Bev. Even though it looked increasingly unlikely that I'd even hear from her, let alone restore my relationship with her, I wasn't ready to give up. That meant that I couldn't make any commitments that would prevent me from being with Bev.

In the end, I saw no harm in getting to know Teri better, and she had specifically pointed to June as a make-or-break point. The question I had to ask myself was whether or not I was leading her on. And that really came down to what I would do about Bev and how long I might give Violet before deciding she wasn't a possibility.

The thing with Violet was that I couldn't work out my feelings about her as I had, in effect, put her off limits with regard to anything beyond friendship. I really liked her, we got along well, we spent a lot of time together, and there was no doubt she liked me, or as Bianca, Shelly, and Lily had pointed out, was 'madly in love' with me. My feelings for her were conflicted by what I knew about her, and I wasn't sure how to judge if she had come to terms with them enough to have the kind of relationship I was imagining.

As I walked into the building where my class was held, I decided the best approach was to have another date with Teri and see where things led.

XXV. Futures and Options

March 14, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Would you like to go out on Friday evening?" I asked Teri after class on Monday evening. "It would be a double date with my friends, Jack and Kristy."

"Introducing me to your friends is a good thing!" Teri replied. "What's the plan?"

"Usually Kristy decides," I replied. "But it'll be dinner and some form of entertainment. We've been to movies, concerts, and comedy clubs. Are you able to meet us in the lobby of the Hancock Center at 5:15pm on Friday? I'll bring you home, but Jack and I work together, and Kristy takes the L from Loyola."

"I can do that. Is Jack another stockbroker?"

"Future stockbroker; he has my old job supervising the mailroom. He and Kristy will be moving into my new house."

"Along with your current housemates?"

"Yes, and also two others -- an artist studying at the School of the Art Institute, and a political science major from Loyola."

"Male or female?"

"Female," I replied. "I made those commitments prior to you proposing."

"Girls you've slept with?"

"I cannot answer that question," I replied. "And please don't infer anything from a non-answer."

"If you hadn't, you'd say so."

"Actually, I'd give the same answer either way. Think about it this way -- would you want me telling people we'd slept together? I mean, before we married, when it would be assumed."

"If things go a certain way, don't you think I have a right to know if girls who would be living in the house were girls you'd slept with?"

"Actually, no, I don't. I'm a man of my word and I keep my commitments. If they do go, as you put it, 'a certain way', then I would end every physical relationship I have. What I won't do is give up my female friends, especially Violet. And before you worry, the best way to characterize that is she's like the little sister I never had."

"That sounds non-negotiable."

"Because it is," I replied. "I can't violate Violet's privacy, so I can't tell you the details, but I promised to be her friend and to do my best to protect her, and my word is my bond."

"And if I had a guy friend?"

"So long as you keep your word to me, I don't have a problem with that."

"And if it were a guy I'd slept with?"

"Then we'd be in a very different place, because you made it clear you wouldn't have sex until your wedding night, and claimed to be inexperienced."

"I thought you didn't care about virginity!"

"I don't; I care about the truth. Declining to answer is OK, telling the truth is OK, lying about it is not OK. I don't care if you are or aren't, except insofar as you've told the truth. Think about what I've said, and if you change your mind about going out, you can let me know on Wednesday or Thursday. Right now, though, I need to get to the diner to meet Violet."

"She's more important than talking to me?"

"No, but I gave my word that I'd meet her, and I intend to keep it. If I didn't, then what kind of man would I be?"

"One with very strange priorities."

"See you tomorrow?"

"Yes."

I left Teri, and as I walked to the diner, I thought about the conversation I'd had with Bianca and Shelly about my relationship with Violet. I had been asking myself how I felt about Violet and what might come of our relationship. So much depended on things I couldn't know until I was too far down the path to turn back. While it was true that I could break off a relationship, or even divorce, the damage that would do to Violet, and to me, was too horrific to contemplate.

The problem was, nobody, not even Violet, could know what would happen if and when she attempted any kind of physical intimacy beyond hugs and kissing me on the cheek. Something told me, despite my cavalier attitude about sex, that a single nice kiss with Violet was a commitment to her, to the exclusion of every other girl. Once we started down that path, I would feel compelled to follow it to the end, whatever that meant, not because of me, but because of Violet. To do anything else would, as I saw it, harm her in a way from which she might never recover.

It was maddening to me that her mom had been released from prison despite the heinous acts committed against Violet and her sister -- especially her sister. I was very much of the 'rehabilitation' camp versus the 'punishment' camp, but I wasn't sure how you could rehabilitate someone who participated in the rape of their own child. I'd consider rehabilitation and parole for murders long before I'd consider it for someone who abused their own kids.

All I could do at the moment was wait to see where things led. I had a strong impression that Teri and I would not be able to find sufficient common ground, but I also wasn't ready to write her off. That confused me somewhat, as I had plenty of reasons not to investigate a relationship with her, and I couldn't put my finger on what it was that compelled me to give it a try.

I had coffee and pie with Violet, then walked her to her house, receiving the usual hug and peck on the cheek, then headed home. Keiko was already there, and after I changed, I sat with her, Bianca, and Shelly for a bit before we headed up to bed.

"My grandfather would like to meet you," Keiko said as we undressed. "We're invited to dinner at his house, along with my parents, on the 22nd. I checked your calendar in the kitchen and the day is open."

"That's a week from tomorrow, right?"

"Yes."

"That should be fine," I replied. "Is there some specific occasion?"

"No, he just would like to meet the man in whose house I'm going to live, and who he knows I'm dating."

"He's the karate instructor, right?"

"Yes."

"I'll be on my best behavior!"

Keiko laughed as we climbed into bed.

"He's a pacifist, much as you are. Karate is about self-discipline and self-control. He requires his students to promise non-aggression, and to only ever use martial arts in self-defense, or defense of the weak or helpless."

"And if he doesn't like me?"

"I'm sure he will! And he is not opposed to marriage to a non-Japanese. I believe I told you my aunt married an American man."

"Marriage, huh?" I asked, as Keiko moved on top of me.

"You know that is a possible destination," she said. "We're learning about each other and in time, we'll decide if we should be together or not. I'm in no rush, and neither are you. I'm curious about something we haven't discussed directly. Shall we talk first or..."

It was 'or', and once we'd finished, Keiko and I cuddled.

"What did you want to ask?" I inquired.

"In your system of belief, is there room for a Shinto marriage ceremony?"

"Is there any requirement for any specific belief?"

"Other than to honor our ancestors and our parents, and to produce children? No."

"Produce?" I asked with a grin.

"That's the literal translation of the word in Japanese. I think it's probably similar to what the Christian Bible states -- 'be fruitful and multiply'."

"No vows of fidelity?" I asked.

"The vows are up to each couple, and some traditional ones call for the 'protection of fidelity' but in Buddhism and Shinto, it means faithfulness to the promises you have made, as opposed to what it means to Christians, or people in the Christian tradition, such as you, who do not believe. And while I don't agree, many men in Japan have mistresses, and it's often tolerated, so long as the mistress never displaces the wife."

"You don't agree in general, or for yourself?"

"Myself. It's not my place to tell another woman how to manage her relationship with her husband. Nor is it appropriate for me to put demands on how they behave, so long as they honor the «kami» and Japanese culture. Of course, here in America, things are different, and I'm not completely traditionally Japanese. Neither is my grandfather, for that matter, as in Japan marrying a non-Japanese is often received with scorn and disapproval."

"Racism?"

"I think I'd term it 'culturalism'. To be Japanese is to have been born there, speak the language, practice the religion, and conform to basic social norms. It is not, like the US, which is called the 'great melting pot', where diversity is championed. That's the opposite of Japan."

She was, I felt, putting a positive spin on something that could be termed 'racist' or at least 'nativist', two things I felt were both wrong. But I wasn't being asked to live in Japan, and the Japanese had as much right to run their country as they saw fit as we did to run the US as we saw fit. I quickly decided it was a non-issue, as I saw no chance I'd move to Japan, nor did I feel Keiko would try to impose Japanese values on me.

"Going back to your question," I said thoughtfully, "I don't think a Shinto wedding would be objectionable in any way, unless, as I said, there was some mandatory belief or requirement that I not disagree."

"None at all. I think both Buddhism and Shinto are compatible with your philosophy and spirituality, such that it is. In many ways, it's no different from mine. I think, too, you can understand «kami» as the forces of the universe, including human nature and expression, which endure beyond the end of our physical life. Think of it as the memories of the past carried forward into the future."

"I've said something similar."

"Would you object to a Shinto shrine in the house?"

"Given the little I know about Shinto, I don't see why that would be objectionable. You'd offer incense to the spirits of your ancestors, but that can be understood symbolically, not literally."

"Yes. What about a Japanese room, that is, one with proper «tatami» mats? You'll see what they are in my grandfather's house. Such a room would be necessary for proper tea ceremonies and proper entertaining of my family."

"I don't see a problem with that, though I can't imagine the local 84 Lumber, or whatever it's called, would carry them!"

"No. They would have to be special ordered from Japan."

"You're already setting up our household?"

Keiko laughed softly, "Yes, but no. Remember what I said? This is about investigating. Normally, in a Japanese relationship, you go out with a group, and even after you tell each other you like each other, you continue to go out in a group. You do that until you are comfortable with the person and are sure you are in enough agreement to go on dates, rather than be with the group. That doesn't really happen here, as I saw couples pairing off in High School starting at fourteen or fifteen."

"You were born here, right?"

"Yes, but we're a traditional Japanese family, and my grandfather has taught us Japanese values. Of course, I see them through the lens of being an American, but also see being an American through the lens of being Japanese."

"Have you been to Japan?"

"Three times, the most recent when I was fourteen, right before High School started."

"And you speak Japanese?"

"I do, though not as well as someone who has lived in Japan their entire life. But my parents spoke it to me as a baby, along with English, so I learned."

"Your parents were both born here?"

"My dad was. My mom is the daughter of one of my grandfather's closest friends in Japan. It was, for all intents and purposes, an arranged marriage, but they both happily agreed and they are very happy after twenty years. If you and I marry, it won't be all that different, as we aren't going to marry because we're in love. I'd say that's true of you and Bianca, too, though I suspect Bianca's ideal relationship does not match your thinking."

"She has made some persuasive arguments, but I remain unpersuaded. May I ask a blunt, direct question?"

"Of course."

"How will you feel when other girls spend the night with me in the new house?"

"How is that different from now? I mean, obviously, you do, because I obviously know about Ellie. And I'm sure you sometimes sleep with Bianca and Shelly from things they've said."

"I think it will be different living in the house and seeing it happen, versus simply knowing about it."

"Seeing it?" Keiko asked mirthfully. "Are you selling tickets?"

I chuckled, "No, and I remember you making it clear you didn't feel it was 'performance art'."

"Obviously, others are free to express themselves however they wish, but I strongly prefer being alone with you."

"Just to be completely up front, Deanna and I are lovers."

Keiko laughed softly, "As if that were news! I assumed. And to answer your next question, I only expect honesty from you, and that you'll keep any commitments you make to me. My views on sex are not all that far from yours, I've simply chosen not to express my sexuality with anyone except you. But I haven't promised not to do so, and I know you're open-minded enough that it wouldn't create a rift between us. I owe you the same respect, at least for now."

"How certain are you of the outcome you've envisioned?"

"I don't know that 'certain' is the correct word. I think I'm confident we can work through any challenges and disagreements in a peaceful way, that we have a very similar outlook on life, and that so far, I've seen no reason to think things can't go that way. But I'm also only nineteen, and you're only twenty. That's too young to make the kind of decision we're discussing. Far too young."

"I am curious where you see a post-graduate degree in international relations leading career-wise. I'd think that would mean a job with the State Department, or at least in DC."

"That degree can be put to use in many ways, including working for trade associations, multi-national corporations, or for lobbying organizations. Another possibility would be to complete the Master's program, then get a JD, or perhaps find a way to combine the two, and specialize in international law. That would be useful for companies such as the one you work for."

"Our compliance team is lawyers and accountants, and they have a mix of specialties, including international finance and international law. Many of the currency trades we do are executed overseas, so we have to comply not just with American law, but also local law where the trade is executed."

"I suppose you're worried my job might take me away from Chicago."

"Only in the sense of not knowing what your employment options were besides the State Department. If that were your only possible place of employment, then we'd have to figure out how that might work."

"You're basically tied to Chicago, right?"

"Certainly for the near term, though if you go the route you're suggesting, you have another six or seven years of school. Do you plan to seek your post-graduate degree here?"

"Yes. There are plenty of excellent graduate schools and several excellent law schools, including Kent and John Marshall. Does that allay that particular concern?"

"Yes. Anything else?"

"No. I think I'll let you get some sleep! You have to be up early in the morning."

"I think one more 'or' wouldn't interfere."

Keiko quickly moved on top of me, and about twenty minutes later, with both of us sated, we spooned and fell asleep.

March 15, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Mom decided to go visit her sister," Lily said happily when I arrived at her house.

"Knowing I was coming to dinner?" I asked.

"She said she wanted to give us privacy!"

I chuckled, "Meaning time to talk, or..."

"It turns out she knew about the dinners we had, and when I was with you the first time. She just didn't say anything. She also couldn't admit that to the priest or her friends for what I hope are obvious reasons."

"Yes. What did you have in mind?"

"Orgasms!"

I chuckled, "I believe I can provide."

"A few with your tongue first, because I cum so much easier that way, and it also lets me cum easier from screwing."

"I would never object to drinking the nectar of the goddess!"

Lily laughed softly, "Nor I the protein shake!"

She took my hand and led me upstairs where we spent an hour fooling around before we went back downstairs to eat dinner, something Lily called 'pasta bake' which was mostaccioli and spaghetti sauce, covered with cheese, and baked in the oven. It was excellent for so simple a dish, and Lily had garlic bread and small tossed salads to go with it. When we finished eating, we cleaned up, then went back up to Lily's room and fooled around for a few hours. I helped her change the sheets on her bed, and she walked with me out to my car.

"I have a third date with a guy from class on Friday," she said.

"OK," I replied noncommittally

"Your tone of voice tells me you inferred that he'd expect I wasn't fooling around with another guy."

"I tried to keep it neutral, but I suspect my facial expression or body language gave that away. So long as he's a nice guy and treats you right, I have no position on what you do or don't do in that regard. You know I don't have a problem with it, but if he would, then you have to decide."

"If you and I are going to get together, it'll be once you decide Bev is never coming back and that you and Violet can't be a couple."

"Expound, please," I requested.

"Right now, if Bev showed up out of the blue and said she wanted to be with you, you'd take her in, no questions asked. Well, once you analyzed the situation and forgave her for basically running away, which you would, because you're you. As for Violet, you know she's head-over-heels in love with you, and if she hadn't had her past, you two might even be engaged already. For sure, you'd be going at it like bunny rabbits! She wants to, in the worst possible way, but what happened has really messed her up."

"I don't see how anyone could go through that and not be messed up."

"I agree. And you have to give her a chance to get through her therapy and allow more time to pass before you decide. Do you know if they called her from the new place she applied?"

"She didn't mention it last night, and I'm sure she would have if they had."

"I'm not going to agree to marry anyone until I finish college, so there's time. As I said, you have to get over Bev and decide what to do about Violet before anyone else has a real chance."

"Bianca and Shelly basically agree with you."

"Which should tell you something, given they live with you and probably know you better than anyone else."

"I know. I do want to stay in touch," I said.

"Let me ask Violet if it's OK if I join you guys for dinner once every other week."

"If she's OK with it, I'm OK with it. And you're obviously welcome at the house."

"Would it be OK to bring Mike to help during Spring Break? I'd still be able to pick up Deanna and Violet."

"Sure. The more the merrier."

We exchanged a nice kiss, then I headed home.

March 16, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"It's a long-term play," Tony said mid-morning on Wednesday, "But I recommended a long position in Eli Lilly in my daily market analysis based on your tip. I checked it out with someone Monroe knows at the FDA. The estimate is about three years before it hits the market, but Eli Lilly is a strong play even without it. Ceclor, their antibiotic, is the top selling antibiotic in the world. Also, their counterintuitive move to buy Elizabeth Arden in 1971 has finally paid off, with sales up 90% since 1978. I'd wager they'll spin it off inside of five years, and that will show a handsome profit."

"What about the rest of the pharmaceutical industry?"

"There are quite a few good plays. Matheson asked me to do a deep analysis, which I'll have by the end of the week."

"I look forward to seeing it."

"I saw from your report yesterday that you think silver and gold have hit a temporary floor."

"I do. In the report I just handed in, I proposed long positions in both, again watching for spread triggers. Once silver hits $14 per ounce and gold $450, I'm going to recommend selling November futures."

"November?"

"That's where my analysis predicts a bottom. I'll evaluate then, but the way things are going, we'll see continued drops in gold and silver prices through next year. The question will be what the futures prices are. I'd sell December 1984 futures contracts if I could find a buyer at even a twenty percent discount to the current spot price, but nobody's that dumb! Well, OK, the average Joe who's buying gold and silver coins, but they don't buy futures contracts."

"You think they'll keep buying?"

"They read the same lunatic 'gold bug' newsletters who, no matter what the futures contracts look like, recommend buying gold as an 'inflation hedge'. It's one thing to have it as part of your portfolio, it's another thing to buy large amounts expecting it to 'hold its value'. The only people I'd suggest should do that are those in countries with seriously unstable currencies.

"If there's a risk of devaluation, or even default, you want hard assets or dollar-denominated or pound-denominated accounts. Some countries ban accounts such as those, so the only safe haven is gold or silver."

"Which currencies are you eyeballing?"

"Distressed ones, mainly Zaire, the Philippines, and South Africa. Plus the usual collection of broadly traded currencies. There's something afoot with the Aussie dollar, but even Matheson's contacts are in the dark at the moment. I'm also keeping an eye on several savings and loans that have significant non-performing debt. One false move and it could trigger a wave of failures."

"That would be ugly."

"Yes, it would."

"Keep me posted on that development. It could drag the entire market down with it."

"Will do."

"Jonathan," Anna called out, "Mr. Matheson wants you!"

"Be right there," I replied, getting up from my desk and walking to Murray Matheson's office.

"Noel signed off on the Nexis contract. You can place the order. His secretary will fax the signed contract once you let her know you've spoken to the sales rep. He also approved Phil's recommendation of swapping out your Apple II and IBM terminal for an IBM PC, as well as the same configuration for Tony."

"Excellent news."

"How'd you twig to that Eli Lilly play? Tony wasn't sure."

"The friend I was helping on Friday mentioned it and said it was an investigative trial, as Tony called it in his report, and that it worked perfectly."

"I'm going to assume her illness last Friday wasn't related?"

"No. She's been off the drug for over a year."

"Do you know any doctors who could give us lines on things like this?"

"Other than the physician I saw for my annual physical, no. I know some pre-med students and some nursing students, but that's long term. I'll see what I can do to develop a contact."

"Not something I really worried about in the past, but Tony's doing a deep analysis of pharma, and while we focus on currencies and precious metals, currency fluctuations affect stocks, and it's our job to flag those for the main fund. Foulks is looking into a pharmaceutical and medical fund, but that's a long-term project."

"There's some money to be made there, I'm sure."

"Did you take a position in Eli Lilly?"

"I plan to, yes, I just need to work out the best options for both Jeri Lundgren's trust and for the Cincinnatus Fund."

"How are things going with your contact in the future Mayor's office?"

"I had lunch with her on Friday," I replied.

"Good."

I dreaded calling Marcia again, but unless I could find someone else, I'd have to, and so far I'd struck out with Nelson, Gary, and Jeri with regard to contacts. Fortunately, the election was still about a month away, which gave me some time to formulate a strategy.

I had a busy afternoon, burning nearly forty minutes on the phone confirming the order for the Nexis system, arranging for installation, and arranging training for Tony and me. When I left for the day, Anna walked with me to the elevator. She continued to be totally laid back and mellow, which was perfect given my circumstances, though I suspected a week together in Saint Martin might change things.

I hadn't mentioned that to Teri, and I had a strong feeling she'd object, though her objections didn't mean much to me at this point. I'd keep my date with her, if she wanted to go out, but all things being equal I'd come to the conclusion that it probably wasn't worth the effort, given we disagreed in some vital areas. Especially when I had no such conflicts with Keiko, Anna, or Deanna.

I bade Anna farewell in the lobby, then headed down to retrieve my car and drive to Violet's. We had our usual nice dinner, then I walked her to class. As I approached the building where my class was being held, I saw Teri waiting for me.

"I just want to ask one question before class," she said. "And I'd like an honest answer."

"That is the only kind I know how to give."

"If I offered to go to bed with you tonight, would that change anything?"

"No. And if you made such an offer, which I don't think you would, I'd turn you down."

"That is exactly the answer I expected."

"Right or wrong?" I asked.

"Right, I suppose," Teri replied. "Let's go to class and we can talk more on Friday."

We went into the building, walked to the classroom, and took our seats just before the professor began the lecture. When class ended, I met Violet as usual, and after walking her to her house, I drove home. When I walked into the house, Bianca greeted me, then followed me upstairs.

"Mind if we talk while you change?"

"No. What's up?"

"Allyson's dad called earlier looking for you and seemed upset."

"Wonderful," I sighed. "What did he say?"

"He asked that you call him 'as soon as possible'. Almost right after that, Allyson called to speak to you. I let her know you were in class and she told me that Clara had 'inadvertently'," Bianca made air quotes with her fingers, "let slip that you had deflowered her, and had slept with Allyson."

"Even more wonderful. I'm certainly glad I made her wait until she was seventeen, and this just confirms my decision to not see anyone who isn't at least eighteen, and with the exception of Esme and Teri, nobody who hasn't graduated from High School. Did Allyson have any advice?"

"To ignore her dad," Bianca replied. "She said she was going to talk to him and expose Clara for what she did."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Allyson is confident that once she points out that Clara accosted you when she was fifteen and you blew her off, and that Clara came after you, he'll calm down. But in the end, given she was seventeen, there isn't really anything he can do. You don't do business with him, do you?"

"No, but he's friends with Kristy's dad, who I do work with."

"I'd say that won't matter, given what you've said about people at Spurgeon."

"I have no idea if Mark Benton plays around, because he's a floor trader at the CBOT."

"You obviously haven't been party to some of the conversations. According to Kristy, several of her friends were very, very friendly with her dad, if you get my drift."

"I think I'll speak to Allyson and Kristy just to make sure."

"Allyson said it was OK to call her anytime. I do have something else to talk to you about, but it can wait until we're in bed together later."

"OK. Let me call Allyson, then, and I'll come downstairs."

Bianca left, and I finished changing, then looked up Allyson's number and dialed it.

"It's Jonathan; Bianca told me what happened," I said after she answered.

"Don't sweat it. I just got off the phone with my dad and made sure he knew everything that had happened. He is no less unhappy, but he's not gunning for you."

"I told you it was a bad idea and I should have stuck to that."

"You know I don't think you did anything wrong, and the government doesn't think you did anything wrong, and absent my dad's objection, you don't think you did anything wrong. Right?"

"That's true, though I really don't need the hassle."

"No hassle at all. And think about it this way -- she liked it enough to complain because she wasn't getting it!"

I laughed, "An interesting way to put it."

"Don't worry about her. I'll see you on the 25th at your new place. Interested in an overnight after Jeri's party?"

"I am. I'll be at the old house, though, because we're not moving furniture until Friday."

"See you in just over a week!"

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, and went downstairs to hang out with Shelly and Bianca. We watched the local news, then Bianca and I went up to my room. We got undressed, though she left on her panties because it was 'that time of the month', as the girls often called it.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked. "Or did you want to fool around first?"

"Talk first," Bianca said, snuggling close.

"What's up?"

"Shelly is going on a date on Friday," she said.

"I'd say 'so what?' but given you wanted to talk about it, I'm going to guess it's complicated."

"It's a guy she really likes, and as much as she likes you, she's convinced you two won't be together in the long run, because you'll either choose Deanna or Keiko. But she also doesn't feel it's right sleeping with me if she's dating."

"That does create a bit of a problem, given you guys share a bed."

"We talked it through, and in the new house, we'll each get a full-size bed, and our current queen can go into Keiko's room. You could cancel the order for the bed for that room, then, and just keep the futon order for the combination studio and bedroom Deanna wants."

"You and Shelly are OK with sharing a room long term?"

"Yes. It's fucking that's the problem, not that we don't like each other, or whatever."

"So what's your plan?"

"To meet someone, of course, and wait to see what happens with you."

"I'm curious, given everything that's been said, and Shelly's opinion, what do you think is going to happen?"

"Bluntly?"

"Of course."

"You'll eventually get over Bev, even if you don't get over her, if you know what I mean."

"How about 'get past' instead of 'get over'?"

"That fits. Then it'll come down to Violet, and whether or not she can get past her totally legitimate fear of sex. If she can, you two are locked in and it's 'game over'. If not, I think, in the end, you and I will have a kid together, and maybe even share a girl."

"Interesting," I observed. "How would you see that playing out?"

"It would depend on what you want. If you want a traditional family, you'll pick someone like Keiko or Deanna. But that doesn't preclude you and me from having a kid together. We'd just have to clear it with whomever you marry."

"That doesn't sound like a traditional family to me!" I countered.

"In a way, it would be no different from having a kid then getting divorced and remarried, but without all the drama. And the timing isn't cast in stone. I want a kid, and I think you'd be a great dad, and could handle the situation. It would be a question of your wife. It's not something I'd even consider asking Violet for what I hope are obvious reasons, but Keiko or Deanna? I honestly can't imagine either of them saying 'no' to some kind of arrangement, so long as it's fixed in time, so to speak. Of course, you know my ideal!"

"Two or three girls we share," I chuckled. "Or a harem! I accept those are possible outcomes, though I don't see either of them as likely."

"Which is a FAR better answer for me than you've ever given! Honestly, if I felt I could go my entire life without making love with girls, I'd say we're perfect for each other. But as much as I like sex with you, I like sex with Shelly more. And it's not because it's Shelly, it's because I prefer girls to guys, but not exclusively. Shelly, on the other hand, likes sex with me, but would never countenance being with another girl."

"All I can say is 'wait and see', but that answer doesn't bother you any more than it bothers Keiko or Deanna. It did bother Haley, Clara, and others."

"And Teri, though you're still hoping to get into her panties!" Bianca exclaimed.

"Actually," I replied, "I told her quite honestly earlier tonight that I'd say 'no' if she offered at this point."

"Because for her it would be a pledge, even if she tried to pretend it wasn't."

"Exactly. Not to mention she's uncomfortable with Violet being a close friend."

"The kiss of death!" Bianca declared. "When are you telling Teri it's off?"

"I keep going round in circles, trying to figure out why I can't do that."

"Duh! Red hair, green eyes, great body! But you have plenty of gorgeous girls, so I think you can pass on her."

"I suspect you're right, given I can't pinpoint anything that makes me want to see her again, despite wanting to see her again."

"It could be the challenge."

"If so, then I'm failing my own ethical test -- convincing her to 'give it up' as guys back home would say, would be unethical, given I know how she feels about it. I also don't get the sense she's playing hard to get."

"No, but she's dangling a very sexy body in front of a red-blooded American male with the price being a ring. It's a pretty standard tactic!"

"Well, I'm in bed with a girl with a very sexy body, so I should focus on her."

"I won't complain!"

"Tell me what you want," I said.

"Fuck me, stay inside me until you get soft, then we sixty-nine until we both cum, then French kiss."

"That's going to be very messy."

"We'll put towels on the bed to protect the sheets and take a shower before we go to sleep. Are you game for your red wings? If not, I'll just give you a blowjob and we can go to sleep."

"Remember what I said -- tell me what you want."

"I want you to fuck me so blood gets all over your dick and my thighs, then eat me while I suck you, then kiss with blood all over our faces."

XXVI. Deep Conversations

March 17, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"What do you think, now that you've slept on it?" Bianca asked as we dressed on Thursday morning.

"My initial reaction was negative because I knew what it was, though it wasn't as stomach-turning as the first time a girl kissed me before she swallowed."

"You got over that!"

"I did, and while you know I don't prefer doing that, I'm perfectly happy to kiss after a blowjob. I'm not a fan of kissing without swallowing, but if the girl gets off on it, I'll do it."

"Like last night."

"In for a penny, in for a pound!" I chuckled. "To answer your question, it didn't taste bad, just different. And it was pretty messy! My face and your thighs were coated with red! And you really got into it. Your blowjobs are always enthusiastic, but that one was the best one you've ever given, which is saying a lot!"

Bianca laughed softly, "So you'll be OK with doing it during my period, then?"

"Enticing! If it gets you off, I'm OK with it. You haven't ever pressed too far."

"Before we go downstairs, I should tell you Shelly wants to be with you one last time. Do you have any plans tonight?"

"No. I'm curious, but are your periods in sync?"

"That's an old wives' tale. Shelly and I are close, but our periods didn't shift once we started living together. Hers finished five days ago. Are you doing anything for Saint Patrick's Day?"

"I hadn't thought about it," I replied. "Not being Irish, it's not that important."

"Living in Chicago, it should be! They'll dye the river green today, and I'm sure people will want to go out for drinks."

"I have class so that basically puts the kibosh on going out with people from work."

"Teri is Irish, so she might ask."

"She's eighteen, so she can't even buy a beer in Illinois, and I'm not going to risk taking her to the bar in Bridgeport where I can be served. I'll be home after class."

"OK."

We finished dressing and went downstairs for breakfast. It was very early, and Shelly was still in bed, so Bianca and I ate breakfast together, and then I headed to work. It was a normal Thursday, I had lunch with Anna, and Mia asked to join us. It was the first chance I had to have an extended conversation with her and that confirmed that her only asset was her chest, and it was also obvious to me that she was already sleeping with Matheson.

At the end of the day, as usual, I left the office, had dinner with Violet, went to class, and then headed home. I greeted Bianca and Shelly, then went upstairs to change, with Shelly following me up the stairs.

"I hear you met someone," I said as I began changing clothes.

"A medical student at Rush Medical School," Shelly replied.

"I assume he has a name?"

"Perry Nielson. He'll graduate in May."

"How'd you meet him?"

"A party a few weeks ago. He asked me out, but he's doing what are called clinical rotations, so his schedule is something of a mess."

"I take it that's the hands-on training Allyson mentioned."

"Yes. He's just finishing a rotation in the ER. He plans to work in the ER once he graduates."

"Allyson mentioned something called the National Match and implied that you couldn't be sure where you were hired."

"He'll actually find out next week. His top two choices are here in Chicago -- Cook County and Rush-Presbyterian. But this is just a first actual date!"

I chuckled, "Sorry. You know how my brain works."

"You immediately think about the short and long-term consequences and the potential sequences of events that might occur. That's how you do your job, so it makes sense that's how you see life."

"Allyson said first-year doctors work crazy hours."

"Thirty-six-hour shifts and around ninety hours a week. He warned me when he asked me out. But it's just a first date!"

"I'll stop trying to analyze your future beyond Friday! Bianca filled me in about the changes in your relationship."

"I just don't feel right having sex with her or you if I'm dating someone who I'm truly interested in."

"I totally understand. I take it you'll want your own room in the new house?"

"That would make the most sense if you're willing to give up the fourth bedroom."

I hadn't planned to use it except as a guest room. You'll need a bed and furniture."

"My dad will buy what I need."

"OK. How will you handle the next two weeks?"

"We'll share the bed but not have sex. Bianca is OK with it, and I hope you're OK with one more night. I'll spend the night with you, too."

"I'm absolutely OK with that. Shall we go watch the local news, then come back upstairs?"

We left my room and went downstairs, where we watched the 10:00pm news with Bianca, then said 'good night' and headed back up to my room.

"What's your pleasure?" I asked as we undressed.

"Slow and gentle," Shelly said. "Like our first time."

When we were naked, I helped her into bed and climbed in after her.

March 18, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Once more, long and slow?" Shelly asked when my alarm went off on Friday morning.

I'd anticipated her request and had set the alarm for twenty minutes earlier than usual. We had a final slow, gentle session that could only be described as lovemaking, then went to the shower. We washed each other in a loving fashion, then dried off, dressed, and went downstairs to have breakfast. Bianca was still asleep, so Shelly and I ate together. Once we finished, I grabbed my satchel, and Shelly walked me to the door.

"Thanks," she said, hugging me and giving me a soft kiss.

"I know I'm thinking ahead again, but I'm happy you met someone you think can fulfill your needs."

"You could, you know."

I nodded, "I know, but..."

"Until you're sure Bev isn't coming back, you aren't going to commit to anyone."

"Sorry."

"Don't be! She's a lucky girl to have someone so caring and so loyal. And you aren't letting major adversity deter you."

"I don't know about that," I said. "But it's true that nothing that has happened changes how much I love her."

"I have no regrets at all," Shelly said. "Not a single one."

I hugged her, we exchanged one final soft kiss, and I left the house to head to the Hancock Center. After I had made the morning coffee and spoken to Rich about overnight trading, I prepared my morning analyst report.

Once I'd completed that, I spoke with Mr. Steinem to arrange for long positions in gold and silver and discussed my plan to sell November futures. Once that was arranged, I returned to my research project on the relationship between money supply and precious metals prices, mining company stocks, and the gold/silver ratio.

As usual, I ate lunch at my desk, went to the gym with Anna, then, during the afternoon, reviewed the news, as well as the closing prices in Europe, all of which would inform what we did starting Sunday evening with Asian trading, though in some cases, so-called after-hours trades could be arranged on Saturdays. When we left the office, I confirmed with Anna that I'd see her on Saturday afternoon, then met Jack, Kristy, and Teri in the lobby of the building.

"The Berghoff, then High Road to China, if everyone is cool with that," Kristy suggested.

"What's the movie about?" I asked.

"Along the lines of the Raiders of the Lost Ark, but set in China around the time of World War I. Tom Selleck is the lead, and it's played as a comedy adventure."

"Sounds good to me. Teri?"

"Yes."

"Bus to the Berghoff, then back to Water Tower?" Jack asked.

"That makes the most sense to me," I said.

"I'm glad I paid the dime for the transfer," Teri observed.

That was a very nice feature of the CTA - for ten cents, you could transfer from L to bus or between bus routes, which saved having to pay full fare twice for a journey that required two separate rides. Transferring between most L lines in the Loop didn't require transfers, as you didn't have to leave the station.

We had a nice meal accompanied by The Berghoff's famed root beer, and all of us thoroughly enjoyed the movie. I'd spoken to Jack during the day, and he'd agreed that he and Kristy could take the L to his house so that I could have some time with Teri. We split up, and I suggested to Teri we get ice cream, so we headed to Oberweis.

"Would you explain how your moral system works?" Teri asked when we sat down to eat our ice cream.

"In reference to?" I asked.

"Your response to my question on Wednesday."

"First, I wouldn't call it morals because I don't think sex is immoral so long as everyone consents. I think 'ethics' is a better term."

"Whatever term you use, your standards seem inconsistent."

"Because decisions are never made in a vacuum. My response to you was based on the fact that we wouldn't be in agreement on what it meant. For you, at least as I see it, that simply meant advancing the timing, not changing the end result. The way you phrased the question made that clear to me.

"You asked if offering to go to bed with me would change anything, implying that you felt it would. Even if I attached no specific meaning to going to bed together, you did. It would, in your mind, be a complete and total commitment, no different from putting a wedding band on your left ring finger. Knowing that, and knowing I'm not ready to make that commitment, I'd have to say 'no', no matter how much I might want to do it."

"So what you're saying is that if it was 'just sex', you'd say 'yes'?"

"Hypothetically speaking, I would, assuming everything else was the same."

"I find it strange that you expect girls to just put out."

"But I don't," I replied. "I never expect it or assume that it will happen. If the girl says 'no', I accept that, and I never pressure anyone."

"But you'd stop seeing her if she said 'no', right?"

"Not necessarily. It all depends on the circumstances. Without getting into specifics, I have female friends with whom I have never had sex and, barring some cataclysmic event, never will. And that's fine. Where things between you and me went off the rails, so to speak, was with a committed relationship with a long period of enforced chastity. I totally understand and respect that, but it's not something for which I could sign up. You proposed a fairly radical solution to try to address the disconnect, and I agreed to consider it."

"But you think it's too soon, and you have other conditions."

"I've always said I could yield on the timing for the right girl, but I can't be flexible about my living arrangements for at least a year, if not longer, nor can I be flexible about my female friends, especially Violet."

And the real impediment, which I left unspoken -- Bev. If she were truly out of the picture, things might be very different. But she wasn't, and until she was, I was more or less committed to not committing.

"It seems as if you feel I should yield on every important topic," Teri said, "while you yield on nothing -- church, female friends, your choice of housemates, and sex."

"That's not how I see it," I replied. "I see it as we each make clear what's important to us and see if there's a way forward. In other words, I haven't asked you to yield; I've simply let you know what I believe is important and where I feel there might be conflict. It would be supremely foolish to start a relationship with someone when there were significant differences in values or views.

"I read a quote that's attributed to Albert Einstein, which I think is apropos -- 'Men marry women with the hope they will never change. Women marry men with the hope they will change. Invariably, they are both disappointed'. What I don't want is to go into a relationship where my prospective spouse is counting on me changing my opinion. So, I'm not asking you to yield or change, just explaining my views and my desires."

"I see your point," Teri replied, "but I don't think it's quite that simple. That said, I don't expect you to agree with me."

"I don't, because it is that simple. Don't you think it's better to look for the person who best matches your needs and who has similar goals? Why settle for less, especially at twenty and eighteen? Maybe you think that you've found that, but if so, I'm confused as to why, given some fairly stark differences of opinion."

"Every single thing you do seems to be driven by pure logic with no room for emotions or anything else. Don't you have ANY feelings? Don't you acknowledge attraction?"

"I do have feelings, and I do acknowledge attraction; I just don't allow either of those things to override logic, especially when we're discussing a lifetime commitment."

"So I have two options?" Teri asked. "Give up or continue to date while you have sex with other girls, probably a lot of other girls? And that would be true even if I put out?"

"I wish you'd stop referring to it as 'putting out' as if it's something I'm demanding or something you should feel obligated to do. Neither of those is true."

"Can you see it from my perspective for once? You won't be my boyfriend unless I have sex with you, and even if I do, you're reluctant to go steady. Basically, you want to sleep with me with no commitments and no relationship."

"I'd counter that we would have a relationship, just not one that is exclusive. There are all kinds of relationships, and being an exclusive couple is simply one option. As for wanting to have sex, I've made it clear that I'm attracted to you, but I've also said we can date without having sex."

"But you'll have sex with other girls," Teri said.

She stated it as if it were fact, which, in all honesty, it was.

"My view is that what happens before a committed relationship is irrelevant. Perhaps you don't see it that way, but a girl's past behavior does not change my opinion of her, nor would I hold her to a different standard than the one to which I hold myself. I understand virginity is important to you, and that's fine, but I personally put no value on it one way or the other. As I see it, for me, having sex for the first time is like anything else you do for the first time."

"Seriously?"

"I didn't say you had to agree with me! In fact, I acknowledged that you don't! I said for me. My view is that the god of Abraham, that is, the god of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, has an unhealthy obsession with people's sex lives, which is eerily similar to the Greek and Roman gods' fetish for sex with mortals, and their keen interest in mortals' sex lives. I do understand that your faith is not the primary basis for your views, but it did inform them."

"You have some very strange views," Teri observed.

"Sex is a natural, normal biological activity that feels good and is necessary to propagate the species. It has no intrinsic meaning beyond that. Any meaning assigned to it is external and the product of religion, patriarchal societies, or a combination of both. I don't buy it. Buddhism, for example, simply requires one to treat their partner ethically, but beyond that, places no specific significance on sex.

"And I'm going to point out, once again, the significant differences in our worldviews. It's not my intent, or my goal, to get you to change your worldview, to stop you from going to church, or to stop you from believing that virginity is important. On the other hand, it is my intent to show the philosophical differences that would make a relationship on your terms difficult, if not impossible, for me; and one on my terms, difficult, if not impossible, for you."

"Wow," Teri said flatly. "No intrinsic meaning."

"No meaning beyond what we assign it. But remember, that does not mean I would ever agree with the cheater's claim that it didn't mean anything. It does, but only in the context of violation of your word and betraying your vows. Sex is just sex, but the context matters."

"That seems contradictory."

"Not at all. I can use a hammer to drive a nail or to bash in someone's head. In both cases, the hammer is neutral, being neither evil nor good. It's the person using the hammer in a way that harms another who is the problem. If I have sex with a hundred girls, and all of them are single, and they consent, there's no problem. If I have sex with one girl, and either of us is violating a commitment we made, that's a major problem."

"A hundred girls?" Teri asked, sounding unhappy. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

"I threw that out as an extreme number. The only thing I will say is that I've been with more than one girl."

Teri was quiet for a few minutes while she finished her ice cream.

"I suppose there isn't anything I can say or do at this point," she said.

"I actually enjoyed the evening," I said. "I'll leave the ball in your court, and if you want to go out again, ask. If not, I completely understand."

"Then I suppose you should take me home."

I quickly finished my ice cream, and we walked to the parking garage to retrieve my car. I drove Teri home to Bridgeport, then headed for my house in Rogers Park. Nobody was home, which I had expected, as Shelly was on her date with Perry, and Bianca was out with some of her friends. I went upstairs, changed into sweats, then went to the kitchen to get a drink. I saw the light on the answering machine and pressed the correct sequence of buttons for it to rewind and play.

Jonathan, it's Marcia. I'm sorry about how our lunch turned out. Would you call me, please? It's OK to call up to midnight or anytime on Saturday.

I erased the message and contemplated if I should call or wait. Given the directions I had from Noel Spurgeon, I did need to try to keep a friendly relationship with her, and returning the call immediately would be conducive to that, so I picked up the phone and dialed.

"Hi, it's Jonathan returning your call," I said when she answered.

"Hi. Do you think we could get together and talk?"

"The next two weeks are crazy busy," I said. "I'm not sure when I could."

"What are you doing right now?"

"Nothing, really. I just walked into the house five minutes ago, and my housemates are out."

"I could come there, if that's OK. Just to talk."

I considered her suggestion and decided it couldn't hurt, and the worst possible outcome was that she would leave, and I wouldn't be in any worse shape than I had been before I listened to her message.

"Sure," I agreed.

"It'll take me about twenty minutes."

"I'll be here."

We said 'goodbye', and after I hung up, I got the mail from the box on the porch, then went to the front room to read The Economist until Marcia arrived. About twenty-five minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and I went to let her in. I offered something to drink and, at her request, opened a bottle of wine from a case that Bianca had received from her grandmother, who seemed to be the coolest grandma on the planet.

"It's your dime," I said when we sat down in the front room with glasses of red wine.

"I have a confession to make," she said.

"I'm no priest," I replied with a smile.

"No kidding!" she agreed with a nervous smile of her own.

"I'm listening."

She took a couple of sips of wine before she spoke.

"I wasn't honest with you," she said. "Heck, I wasn't honest with anyone, including myself."

She drank another, larger sip of the wine, and I wondered if it had been a good idea to offer it. Not having any clues about what she was about to say, I simply waited for her to continue.

"What I told you about having two long-term boyfriends was true, but both of them broke up with me because I wouldn't go to bed with them after a year in one case and eight months in the other."

I suddenly had a very uneasy feeling about my encounter with her, and if what had popped into my head was true, it would explain everything.

"When we..." I actually stumbled over my words. "Was that your..."

Marcia interrupted me, "No. It wasn't my first time. You look like you've seen a ghost."

"The possible implications of what you said would change literally everything."

"Isn't that every guy's fantasy? Sex with a virgin?"

"I've heard that, but given I don't put any specific value on virginity, it only matters from the perspective of guiding, but some virgin girls don't need guidance. I've been with at least one girl I didn't know had been a virgin until later, and that was revealed after the fact, almost casually. In any event, back to what you said -- being inexperienced, let's call it, would put a very different spin on things and would have explained your refusal to talk about your past."

"I was inexperienced," Marcia admitted, drinking a large sip of her wine. "Before you, I'd only done it twice. Once in High School and once during my Freshman year of college."

"So why pretend to have been a party girl?"

"I don't know," Marcia sighed. "I started cultivating that reputation in college."

"That strikes me as the opposite of what most girls do," I observed. "Girls who don't fool around a lot tend not to pretend that they do. And girls who do sometimes pretend they don't to avoid getting a reputation."

"I know. But my friends were all party girls, so I just went along with the crowd. I'd make out some, but I left a lot of guys totally frustrated."

"How in-depth is this conversation?"

"What do you mean?"

"Am I allowed to ask questions? Is there anything off limits?"

"They say confession is good for the soul, though I know you don't believe in anything like that."

"I don't assign any spiritual value to it, but confession can be good for your conscience. Call it your soul if you want, as in my mind, it's basically the same thing."

"What did you want to know?" Marcia asked.

"Your story, or at least as much of it as you're willing to share," I replied. "And some kind of explanation of our relationship, at least as you saw it because you totally confused me. Granted, part of that was intentional on your part, but I strongly suspect there's more to it."

"I should start at the beginning, I guess," Marcia said after she downed the last of her wine. "I had just turned fifteen and was at a party where we were playing 'Spin the Bottle'. It started out with just kissing, but then went touching outside of clothes. That got a couple of the guys pretty heated up, and my friend, whose house we were at, decided to escalate. We switched to 'Truth or Dare', and my dare was to go into a room with a football player I thought was hunky and make out for ten minutes. We did, and one thing led to another, and I lost my virginity with my skirt pulled up, and my panties pushed to the side.

"Thank God he used a rubber because in 1972, I had no way to get birth control, and it was before the Supreme Court made abortions legal. Anyway, he finished in about two minutes, but I think that was because our ten minutes were up, and he had to because he was pretty experienced. When he pulled out, I just straightened my clothes, and we went back to the main room. He never asked me out, and barely said a word to me for the rest of the school year, then he graduated and went to UofI to play football. I dated some but never let anyone go past kissing.

"Fast forward to January 1976, when I was a college Freshman and had dated some, but not a lot. There was a guy I liked, and when he invited me to a fraternity party, I accepted. We danced, drank, and had a generally good time. I wasn't drunk, just feeling good, if you know what I mean. When the party ended, he simply took my hand, led me to his room, and we had sex.

"He was pretty drunk, and after he did it once, with no real foreplay or anything except kissing, he fell asleep. I felt dirty and decided I didn't want to stay in his room, so I got up, got dressed, and went back to my dorm. He didn't know I'd left at that point because he was sound asleep. When I saw him the next day, he asked me out, and I turned him down.

"That's where my reputation started because most of my friends knew I'd gone up to his room with him, and I let them believe we had a wild night, even though it was another short encounter, though at least that time I had my clothes off. I went to more parties and sometimes disappeared with a guy, but I never got beyond what you would call second base, though I let everyone assume I was having sex. The guys never said anything because they didn't want to look like losers for striking out with the 'party girl'.

"I didn't date seriously until I was a Senior, and then I had my first actual boyfriend. I was determined not to repeat my previous mistakes, so I wouldn't do more than kiss. The guy was a graduate student and didn't know about my reputation, so that wasn't a problem, but after eight months, he became frustrated that I wouldn't put out and broke up with me.

"I graduated and went to work for Congressman Washington and dated occasionally, but nobody I met was interesting enough to go on more than a few dates. After about a year, I met a guy who seemed pretty nice, and we started dating. At first, he was cool with just kissing, but eventually, he made it clear that he wanted to sleep together. I kept putting him off and after we'd been going out a year, he broke things off. About six months after that, I met you at Jeri's."

I waited to see if she had anything more to add and considered what to say and how to say it.

"I think I understand everything now," I said carefully,

"You mean the fact that I was probably the most boring lay on the planet?"

"Remember what I said about that? That inexperience simply needs guidance."

"But I lied to you about that."

"Yes, you did. And now you're rectifying that, though you were well within your rights to refuse to answer any of those questions. The only thing not having that conversation meant was that our relationship had to stay strictly platonic, but having the conversation didn't guarantee anything beyond that."

"I know," Marcia sighed. "I just...couldn't. You've made such a point about being honest that I was afraid you'd be upset that I'd lied to you and never speak to me again."

"Which would be the same effect as you not speaking to me but wanting to...actually, at this point, I'm not even sure what you wanted."

"When I met you, I was instantly attracted to you, and for reasons I can't explain, I wanted to go to bed with you. It took me time to work up my courage, given my basically negative experiences. I was afraid of a repeat of my bad experiences, so I made it clear it had to be on my terms so you wouldn't bug me for sex the way the other guys did. Then we had sex, and it was obvious you were totally disappointed. I was positive I'd ruined things, and you effectively confirmed that by saying I needed to find someone with the same sex drive or whatever and talk to them about it before we did it.

"Things went downhill pretty fast after that because I was still attracted to you and wanted to have you spend the night again, but I had messed up so badly that there was no way it could happen because I was convinced that if I told you the truth, you'd want nothing to do with me in any way because I'd lied to you. The thing is, it kind of worked out that way, anyway. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

"After that night, I kept trying to get you to tell me what you wanted, and now I'm sure you understand why -- it was because I hadn't done anything beyond a kiss and get felt up, except for those two times, and even then it was simply missionary position for a few minutes. I honestly had no clue, beyond what other girls said, what guys liked, and I didn't trust what I was told. Then, you agreed to go to Waukesha with me for Ponza Rottas, and when I called, and they only had one room, it felt like fate.

"I don't mean that in the sense that I was resigned to having to sleep with you, but that the universe was providing an opportunity I wouldn't otherwise have. I felt that if I could just get you into bed, I could show you I wasn't boring without having to admit how inexperienced I was and that I'd lied to you. I had worked up my courage to do whatever you wanted, however you wanted, and I even went on the Pill as soon as you agreed to go with me. The timing just barely worked out.

"My plan fell apart because you freaked out...Wait! Those aren't the right words. You reacted badly because I'd made an assumption that was totally inappropriate, even if it might have been right about most guys. You were absolutely correct that if the roles were reversed, I'd have been upset, but I didn't see it as a double standard until after that long, silent ride home. And then you tried to be nice, and I was a bitch, and kept trying to find a way to avoid having to admit I'd lied."

"I'd say it all makes sense now," I said.

"So now what?" Marcia asked.

"I've said many times I wanted to be friends," I replied. "That hasn't changed."

"But you no longer trust me, do you?"

"Trust can be rebuilt," I said. "But that means being completely honest because if you lie to me again, I'm not sure we could even be friends."

"I'm going to guess everything you've ever said to me is true, right?"

"I think it's better to say that I haven't told you anything that's not true, nor have I tried to mislead you. There have been times when I've withheld information because I didn't feel it was appropriate or necessary to share it."

"Jesus, you're so exact in your answers!"

"My job requires it, and that spills over into the rest of my life."

"I think it might actually be the other way around," Marcia said. "That it's a personality trait that makes you perfectly suited for the job you're doing. But either way, it's who you are."

"I'd say there's a good chance you're right."

"Your turn," Marcia said with a slight smile. "You did promise, and according to you, you always keep your word!"

I chuckled, "Nice. The short answer is I enjoy giving and receiving oral, I want multiple times per encounter, I like different positions, I like to play, and I prefer an enthusiastic partner."

"That's a lot of I's."

"You asked me what I'd have done differently. That is very much an 'I' question. The same is true if I were to ask you what you wanted. But that night, in your apartment, you drew clear lines, and it was exactly what you wanted. Now, it's my turn to ask you what YOU wanted when you asked me to sleep with you in Wisconsin."

"I had intended to simply say that I'd do whatever you wanted, however you wanted. With limited experience, I didn't have anything really to go by. I couldn't even tell you what I liked because I hadn't done much, and what I had done wasn't fulfilling."

"Then the question I have is, would you have followed through?"

"I think so," Marcia replied. "I wanted to, and I'd worked up my courage to do things I'd never done before. I know I told you I didn't like giving blowjobs, which is true in the sense that I didn't like the idea. I was afraid I might even throw up if I tried giving one."

I nodded, "If you recall, I said that wasn't a deal breaker. Preferences are just that -- preferences. For a short-term relationship or a tryst, it's no big deal one way or the other. For a lifetime relationship, what I told you that night is absolutely true -- spouses need to be on the same page in that regard, or there's going to be trouble down the road."

"So you wouldn't marry someone who wouldn't give you blowjobs?"

"I think that's too simplistic," I replied. "It's more complicated, and it's the overall character of our sex life. An active sex life, in my mind, means not doing the same thing the same way every time, and what you do is negotiable. But there are limits to how much anyone can negotiate without feeling unfulfilled or, at the opposite end, abused. I actually had a conversation with someone earlier this evening about negotiations in a relationship."

"About sex?"

"In general. Basically, it was about how much someone could give up to have a relationship. I maintain that the goal is to find someone who is close enough to you in worldview and has similar enough goals so that the things you have to negotiate are minimized. It's my opinion that agreeing to yield on something important to you is not going to end well."

"Such as?"

"Church, family, careers, or sex."

"Politics?"

"I know that's important to you, but it's not important to me except insofar that it affects the market. And I think it's entirely possible to have a successful relationship with someone who has different politics. We're friends even though I don't agree with some things your Congressman supports. I'm friends with Jeri, even though she's somewhere to the right of Ronald Reagan. And you know the guys I work for are either libertarian or conservative."

"So where are we?"

"Sitting in my front room!"

"Smart ass! You know what I meant!"

"We're friends," I replied. "Beyond that, I can't say, except that you're going home when we finish the conversation."

"That's what I thought would happen after you invited me over because I didn't expect things to go well. I...hmm...tell me why."

"Because the relationship completely reset tonight, and I don't want to do anything without giving it due consideration and giving you a chance to think about what you want."

"I thought that was obvious!"

"Is it, really?"

"You mean beyond just going to bed together, right?"

"Yes. It's about setting expectations and about discussing what we want out of the relationship. The simplest situation is the one I suggested the morning after -- friends, hopefully for life, making money, and doing things together."

"You think I want more than just a roll in the hay?" Marcia asked.

"I think I don't know, and that's the point," I replied. "I could take you upstairs, and we could have the most amazing sex in the history of the world, and tomorrow, it could all fall apart because you wanted more than that, and I didn't."

"Most amazing sex in the history of the world? You're that good?"

I chuckled, "Good enough, but I was exaggerating to make a point -- no matter how good the sex is, no matter how much either of us wants it, we have to consider what happens tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. I say that because the one thing I'm confident you don't want is a meaningless one-night stand."

"But you'd be OK with that, right?"

"Only if the person I was with was OK with it. Remember what I said about being on the same page? Not being on the same page is a recipe for disaster."

"You're pretty smart for a guy who isn't even twenty-one."

"Thanks. Are you OK to drive?"

"After one glass of wine? Of course."

"I know, but I had to ask."

"And I appreciate that."

"Walk you to your car?"

"Yes, please."

I walked Marcia out to her car, we hugged, she kissed my cheek, then she got into her car. I waited until she had driven away, then went back inside.

XXVII. What Do You Owe Her?

March 19, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Saturday morning, Bianca, Shelly, and I left the house just before 10:00am to do the grocery shopping and go to the dry cleaner.

"How was your date?" I asked.

"It was fine, Dad!" Shelly replied with a silly smile.

"Are you seeing him again?"

"On Friday when we'll find out where he Matched. He finds out Tuesday if he Matched but he thinks that's a lock. It's just a question of which hospital."

"I find it crazy that you could go to medical school for four years, graduate, pass your exam, and still not be a doctor."

"The same is true for lawyers," Shelly replied. "You can go to law school, graduate, and not be admitted to the Bar."

"Oh, I know," I replied. "I just find it mind-boggling how much time and money you can spend and not succeed."

"Were all his choices in Chicago?" Bianca asked.

"No. His third choice was in Milwaukee, and his fourth was in Indianapolis. He'll almost certainly get a Chicago hospital or one of those two, but his backup picks are St. Louis and Madison."

"How does that work?" I asked.

"He interviews at the hospitals, then lists them in his preferred order. Then the hospitals list their preferred candidates, and a computer matches them so that it's not possible for there to be a better match for anyone."

"It's the 'stable marriage problem'," Bianca said. "We had to write a program to do that earlier this year. It's a well-known computer programming challenge similar to the traveling salesman problem, which is about shortest paths."

"I'll take your word for it!" I chuckled.

"Just give me a few years, and we can design a computer program that can analyze stock trades for you."

"I'll take any legal advantage I can get!"

After our errands, we had lunch, and I placed a call to the McGills in St. Louis.

"Hi Tammy, it's Jonathan Kane in Chicago. I was wondering if you've heard from Bev?"

"No. We were hoping you had. We're worried."

"Me, too. Did she leave any clues?"

"No. She simply packed up and left. There wasn't even a wadded-up tissue in her trashcan."

"If you hear from her at all, would you please call? I'll do the same."

"Yes, of course. I'll let my parents know, too."

"Thanks."

We said 'goodbye', and after I ended the call, I dialed my mom's number for our weekly call. Not much had changed in Ohio, though she'd had coffee with Glen again. When we finished our call, I showered, dressed, and headed to pick up Anna for our date.

"No passport as yet?" she asked when she invited me into her townhouse.

"No. But it should be sometime in the next week if the estimate from the passport office was correct. Did you have a preferred time to take your vacation?"

"Not particularly, no."

"Let me see what dates are available between July 15th and August 15th," I suggested.

"Great! What are we doing today?"

"Other than dinner, I didn't have a plan."

"Do you ice skate?"

"No. I never learned."

"And you don't ski, either?"

"No. The only sports I've ever played were in gym class -- kickball, dodgeball, basketball, flag football, and softball. I can ride a bike, as well."

"Not football? What you call soccer?"

"That was a girls' sport," I replied. "The school had a girls' soccer team, and girls played soccer in gym class when boys played flag football."

"You should learn to ski, at least. Winter holidays in the Alps are wonderful. We used to go every year during «sportlov», which is a special week off school for Winter sports. I met many wonderful people in Austria and Switzerland."

"You traveled quite a bit, obviously."

"Yes. Usually two times a year -- once during «sportlov» and then during the usual holiday period in July when almost everyone is on holiday."

"The whole country?"

"Yes. Except for some essential services, many businesses simply close during July or have significantly reduced staff. Those who work in July have either June or August off. We have at least twenty-five days off work, and twenty of those are taken in consecutive weeks. Many people take the other five days during February «sportlov», especially if they have children in school."

"That must have been a big change coming here where two weeks is typical except for senior executives."

"Well, I was in school, so I had the entire Summer free to be with my friends. Most Summers, we went to our cottage about a hundred kilometers north of Gothenburg."

"Your dad was a high-level executive?"

"No, he's a manager at Volvo. But it's common for what you would call the middle class to have a Summer cottage."

"I'm missing why you would come to the US."

"There are far more opportunities here because the country is so big, and there are so many different people. In Sweden, nearly everyone is Swedish by heritage and it's not very diverse. Taxes are very high to pay for all of those things you hear about that are free -- school, all the way through post-graduate work, medical care, and so on. Of course, they aren't actually free, as taxes can be more than fifty percent, and if you're very successful, over 80%."

"Wow."

"I also like Americans, who are much more friendly and outgoing than Swedes."

"Sorry to interrupt, but back to what we're doing. Where would you like to eat?"

"How about Chinatown?"

"The Golden Bull is a great place," I said.

"Perfect!"

About twenty minutes later, we were seated at the restaurant.

"Have you heard from your friend?"

I shook my head, "No. I called the family she had been staying with earlier, and they hadn't heard anything. I don't want to give up on her, but I'm at a loss as to what to do next."

"I think all you can do is wait and hope she gets in contact with you."

"I guess I just don't understand why she'd disappear and not even let me know she's OK. We were so close growing up."

"I had a male friend like that from the time I was little, and everything was fine until we were in ninth grade, the last year before «gymnasiet», which is our High School. At a class party near the end of the school year, we had sex, and by the end of the Summer, we were no longer speaking."

"What happened?"

"It was impossible to go back to simply being friends after we'd done that. It changed things between us in ways I still don't understand. I believe you and I could be friends and colleagues if we stopped seeing each other, but for some reason, Anders and I could not."

"You were, what? Fifteen?"

"Yes. That's legal in Sweden."

"Sorry, I wasn't trying to say you were too young, just trying to understand the situation better. I was seventeen, and Bev was sixteen, which is legal in Ohio, but otherwise, very similar to you and Anders, though Bev and I were still friends after we stopped seeing each other."

"Were you, really? From what you said, you didn't even speak to her until you heard she was pregnant by another guy, and then you basically started up with her again as a girlfriend, even if you didn't call it that. And you treated her like a girlfriend, at least in the Swedish sense, even after she had her baby. Then, for her own reasons, which you may know but haven't revealed, she chose to break things off with you."

"That is one way to look at it," I replied. "Another is based on information I haven't shared because I don't feel I can, which explains, at least somewhat, why she left home and then why she disappeared."

"Ask yourself this question, Jonathan -- if you know her secret, whatever it is, why would she not come to Chicago and live with you? You certainly would have accepted her, right?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"Then I honestly do not see how you can not see that she chose to end the relationship."

Anna had a point, and it was something that Anala had hinted at and Bianca had implied.

"I suppose my only answer is that I care deeply for her."

"I never stopped caring for Anders, but that didn't mean we could be together. I think you simply need to accept the situation and move on. I'm obviously in no rush for a permanent relationship, so this isn't a demand, just advice. The thing is, the longer you hold on to what very well may be false hope, the more likely you are to miss out on a relationship that is right for you."

The waitress came to take our orders, which allowed me some time to consider what Anna had said. If Teri had said the same thing, I'd have seen it as her trying to clear the field immediately for herself, but with Anna, it simply came across as good advice. There was no doubt Anna might eventually be interested in something long-term, but Swedish sensibilities appeared to be such that casual dating was the norm, rather than what we'd called 'going steady' in High School.

"It just feels wrong to give up," I said once we'd placed our orders.

"Consider what might happen if you don't accept that she's decided to end things with you. How long do you intend to hold out hope? Weeks? Months? Years?"

"I honestly don't know."

"May I ask a very direct question?"

"Yes, of course."

"Say, five years from now, you're in a relationship but still carrying a torch for Bev, and she shows up -- what do you do?"

"It depends on what promises I've made," I replied.

"Does it? Really? I know you pride yourself on being a man of your word, but would you really turn Bev away?"

"I'll turn the question around and ask if deciding she's broken up with me would affect that."

"If that's actually true, then you should never give your word to anyone, given you'll break it, even ten years from now, if Bev comes back into your life."

"I'm not sure that's true. And, as I said, if you're correct in your analysis, then I'm not sure that saying I've resigned myself to the relationship being over would matter."

"I think it would because it would change how you think about her."

"I need to think through what you've said. OK to set it aside for the rest of our date?"

"Yes, of course!" Anna replied. "As I said, I'm in no rush, but it is something you need to consider and which impacts every relationship you might have and every other decision you might make."

The conversation turned to more differences between the US and Sweden, and I wondered if anything like the Swedish system would be possible in the US, given the extreme diversity compared to Sweden. I did want to visit, but the list of places I wanted to eventually go was long and growing longer, including several in the US, given I'd never traveled outside what was once the Northwest Territory, save a pair of brief visits to northern Kentucky and a flight to and from Greater Cincinnati Airport.

After dinner, we checked the movies that were showing, and there was nothing either of us wanted to see, so at Anna's suggestion, we went to her townhouse in Lincoln Park. She opened a bottle of wine, and we drank and listened to music before going to bed.

March 20, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Sunday morning, Anna and I showered together, she made breakfast for the two of us and her roommates. After breakfast, I headed home. As I drove, I thought about the conversation we'd had, and it was weighing heavily on me because I was seriously struggling with the idea of giving up on Bev.

Logically, it made sense, but in my heart, it felt as if I would be letting her down, even though she was the one who had disappeared. In the final analysis, it was my actions when I'd decided to come to Chicago that had set in motion the chain of events that had led to where we were.

I wondered, though, why Anna had pushed so hard when any exclusive relationship was several years down the road. Was it possible I was missing something? I had no idea and no way to know from our conversations to date, but there was plenty of time to figure things out.

At home, I did my laundry, and Bianca, Shelly, and I cleaned. Shelly and Bianca were going to Shelly's house for dinner, and they'd be bringing back boxes we'd use for moving. It was hard to believe that in five days, I'd own my own house. Well, Spurgeon would own it until I paid the mortgage, but that was a technicality in my mind, as it was the usual way people bought houses. There would be tax advantages, as I'd be able to deduct mortgage interest and property taxes from my 1983 tax return, which would bring down the effective tax rate.

Another tax advantage I'd have would begin in July, when I'd been at Spurgeon two years, and would be eligible to contribute to the firm's 401(k) retirement plan, which would allow me to invest pre-tax dollars with a lockup until I retired. The other advantage was that Spurgeon would match every dollar I contributed up to 10% of my income, though there was also a cap at $25,000 of the contribution that could be matched. That would also lower my effective tax rate by deferring all taxes until retirement, including taxes on the gains.

While we were cleaning, Beth called and asked if I was interested in having dinner on Monday, and I declined because of class. Because of a combination of class, my dinner with Keiko, and the Sabbath, no days were good for both of us before Saturday, and we agreed to go out Saturday evening.

With that arranged, I decided to call Anala to see if she and I could have lunch on Tuesday or Thursday.

"Tuesdays aren't good," Anala said. "I meet my new friend every Tuesday."

"I see where I rate," I groused.

"I didn't say I wouldn't see you! How about Thursday?"

"That's fine. The same deli near the Hancock Center as last time?"

"Yes. See you there at 11:30am."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then said 'goodbye' to Bianca and Shelly, who were leaving for Rockford. About twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang, and, as I expected, it was Deanna. I invited her in and laughed when she grabbed my hand and dragged me towards the stairs.

"It's only been a week," I chuckled.

"So? Can't a girl be horny?"

"She can!"

We spent two hours fooling around, then showered, dressed, and went downstairs.

"I thought more about what we saw in the movie," Deanna said as we drank hot cocoa.

"And?"

"I was thinking that we could re-enact the scene with CeCi when she's here, if you're willing, that is."

"I think I'd be concerned about how CeCi might react to that. It's pretty extreme for you and me, and we're experienced. Have you asked her?"

"No. I wanted to talk to you about it first. If you're willing, I'd ask her after you two do it. She already said she'd do anything you wanted to do, though I doubt that me doing you with a strap-on is included in her version of 'anything'."

"Given I had no idea about it until a friend told me about it a little over a year ago, I think I'd agree. But then again, if someone had said to me 'anything' in High School, I'd have taken that to mean blowjobs, eating pussy, and screwing, all one-on-one. My horizons were broadened when I came to Chicago!"

"Mine, too!" Deanna declared. "I'd have thought the same as you. And now, even though I know about other stuff, I haven't done any of it. Sophie and Ivy are pretty crazy, and I told you they're having a wild affair with one of their professors that includes using the strap-on on him and each other, and him doing them in the butt, and everything else you can imagine."

"They usually don't have a long-term regular thing, at least from what I understood."

"This won't last past the semester, and I guarantee he'll come begging, which means he'll never get them again. You know that's why they liked you, right? You have a big cock that you know how to use and never once asked."

"I understood that from day one. Well, the not-asking part. The other, well..." I shrugged.

"Take it from Sophie, Ivy, and me -- you're huge. And you know how to use it."

"Flattery will get you what you already got!"

Deanna laughed, "And will get again! So what do you think?"

"I am not thrilled by being on the giving or receiving end, but if you think you'll get off on it, I will."

"Giving yes; receiving, I'm not so sure."

"Ditto. How about we agree to wait to see what CeCi says? If she says 'no', we have our answer."

"You aren't curious?" Deanna asked.

"Actually, no. But that doesn't mean my answer to you is 'no'."

"Now you have me wondering why."

"I've found it to be to my advantage to make girls I'm intimately involved with happy. It ensures repeat customers!"

Deanna laughed, "I'd say that's a very good strategy! Will you answer a question?"

"What's that?"

"How successful? You know I was with three guys before you."

"I haven't kept an exact count," I replied, "but probably around forty."

"And a completely out-of-line question, but one that I think I'd be able to deduce after I move in, but how many are you currently entertaining?"

"There are six or seven regulars besides you."

"I'm not surprised, given you're tall, handsome, successful, and hung like a horse!"

"My turn for a question -- how important is that?"

"Skill and attentiveness are more important, but all things being equal, bigger is better, though I suppose only to a point."

"The guy in Insatiable?"

"That actually is part of what gives me pause about our proposed experiment. If you were smaller, that wouldn't be as much of a concern."

"If that concerns you..."

"Because I really want to try that on you, and I'd be willing to let you do it to me to be able to do it to you."

"And that is why I'd be willing -- because you would get off on doing it. I'll leave it up to you."

"Let's see what CeCi has to say, then decide."

"Sounds good. What do you want for dinner?"

"Pizza or Chinese is good."

"I had Chinese last night," I said, "so I prefer pizza."

We agreed on the toppings, and I called Aurelio's to deliver.

"Is there anything you need for your studio? The futon you wanted will be delivered on Thursday of next week."

"I have everything I need in the shared studio at school and in my room. I think two trips with your car should cover everything."

"We'll actually have a U-Haul on Friday, and there's no reason we can't use it to get all your stuff in one trip."

"You've thought of everything!"

"I've had help. Shelly's dad has given us advice. He'll actually be around to help us refinish the floors starting on Monday. We'll paint on Saturday and Sunday and move the old appliances out so we can start on the floors first thing Monday morning."

"I'll be available to help all week."

"I appreciate that. How are the paintings?"

"I'll finish them before the day I move in."

"I'm looking forward to seeing them."

"Any word from your ex?" Deanna asked.

"If you mean Bev, no. And someone else hit me with the same concern you raised."

"It wasn't so much a concern at this point, but if she's going to be able to sweep in and scoop you up at any point, it does change the picture for anyone else three or four years from now."

"I know," I sighed. "It's just that I'd feel like a cad if I gave up."

"Didn't she basically walk out on you?"

"Yes, but..."

"But nothing! You're beating yourself up for something that happened two years ago. But you two reconciled. Right?"

"Yes, but..."

"But what? She made a decision, and she's responsible for that decision, not you."

"I know, but..."

"I'm sorry I brought it up," Deanna said, interrupting me again. "Let's have our pizza and fool around."

March 21, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"I'm sorry I was in a mood last night," I said after Deanna and I got into my car on Monday morning.

"It's my fault," Deanna said. "I shouldn't have pushed you about Bev."

"You're the third person to do so, and I know what you and the others are saying is logical. I try to be logical and analytical, but it's difficult when it concerns Bev."

"I think the question you have to ask yourself is what you owe her. I don't need an answer, and it's probably best if you don't tell me, but until you decide the answer to that question, you're in her...thrall, I guess, is the best word."

"How will the answer change things?"

"In the short term? Not much, because we're just friends who are fucking. Long term? I'm not even giving that serious consideration beyond the acknowledgment that at some point in the future, I'd consider a permanent relationship. I'm happy with how things have developed, neither of us is tied down, which is appropriate at ages nineteen and twenty. I know you're fucking other girls, and I'm free to fuck other guys. I think we're both mellow enough that if things were to change, we could still live in the same house without it being awkward."

"I tend to agree, and yes, I do need to answer the question you posed, at least for myself."

"Do you still want to grant CeCi's request? If not, I know someone else who would."

"At this point, nothing has changed from my perspective," I said. "You challenged me about the future, not the present, and as you say, there is plenty of time to figure that out, given your timeline."

"That's a 'yes'?"

"Yes."

When we arrived at Deanna's dorm, she kissed me, grabbed her bag, and got out of the car. Once she was inside, I headed to the Hancock Center. As usual, I checked in with Rich, made a fresh pot of coffee, and got to work. I completed my morning report and turned it in, and just after 8:00am, Mr. Matheson called everyone to the conference room.

"You all know my headcount was increased as of January 1st, and I've hired two portfolio managers and two assistant traders, one of whom will work with Rich overnight. All of them start on April 4th. I've already spoken to Jack Nelson about trading terminals and IBM terminals, and those will be ready. I should also let you know that between Foulks and Monroe, we've added just over forty million in new currency accounts, mostly for international clearing.

"In addition, Noel Spurgeon and I are about to embark on a capital raise for the Spurgeon Florence Fund. The goal is to add another hundred million in assets through a mix of private and institutional investors. At the completion of the capital raise, the currency fund will have approximately $1,300,000,000 in assets, mixed between global currencies, precious metals, mining stocks, and domestic and foreign corporate and public bonds. That will make us the single largest currency hedge fund in the United States. With that, our monthly settlement volume will reach $50,000,000, most of which is international payments by corporate clients."

Once the announcement was complete, he dismissed us, and we all returned to our desks to await market opening. I had a fairly busy morning performing a series of portfolio analyses, and setting margin limits for clients who traded or hedged currencies. That was something I did each Monday morning to ensure weekend after-hours trading was taken into account before clients could trade on margin.

I ate my lunch at my desk and reviewed my fund, as well as Jeri's trust fund, and decided no changes in asset mix or specific securities were necessary, and it wasn't time to move on gold or silver. When I finished lunch, Anna and I headed to the gym for our usual workout.

After lunch, I went to see Julie, Mr. Spurgeon's secretary, to find out what days were available for his house in Saint Martin.

"The week of July 11th is free," she said, consulting a calendar. "Do you want to reserve that?"

"Yes, please."

"OK. I'll note that and also ensure the jet is available. Just know that you might not be able to fly direct because if there is a business need, you might need to share the jet and make one or more stops."

"Where does that jet fly from?"

"DuPage Airport is the best option, though they could pick you up at Meigs if you prefer. There is covered parking available at DuPage, but not at Meigs, if you choose to drive."

"Let me think about that. When do I need to let you know?"

"No later than July 5th, so I can put the departure airport on the pilot's schedule. Do you have a passport?"

"No, but I should have it by the end of next week."

"Technically, it's not necessary, as you could use your US driver's license to go to Saint Martin."

"Nobody mentioned that!"

As soon as I said that, I remembered that Barney at Windy City Travel had mentioned that it was possible to go a few places with just my driver's license.

"Most people don't know because they have passports, but it is possible. It's easier if you have a passport, though. Once you get it, please bring it to me so I can make a copy of the picture and details page and put the passport number into our records."

"Will do."

"Is Anna Bergdahl your guest?"

I wasn't surprised she knew about that, though I wasn't thrilled with the idea of it being public knowledge.

"Yes."

"OK. I'll need her green card and her Swedish passport."

"I didn't realize she wouldn't have a US passport."

"A green card is proof that you have the right to live and work in the US, but she's not a citizen. She's still a citizen of Sweden, and, generally speaking, you can only be issued a passport by the country of your citizenship. If she ever becomes a US citizen, she'd surrender her Swedish passport and apply for a US passport."

"Thanks for explaining."

"You're welcome. I'll have your tickets for the Black Hawks playoff game next week."

"I'll be out because I'm rehabbing my new house."

"Then I'll have the tickets couriered to you. You were allocated tickets for the first game."

"Thanks. I appreciate it!"

I left and went back downstairs to my desk and worked until 5:00pm when I left and headed to Violet's house for dinner. As usual, she greeted me with a hug and kiss on the cheek, and we went to the kitchen.

"I have tickets for the first Hawks game, which, if they open at home, is April 6th. That means we'd have to miss class."

"I'll discuss it with my professor, but I don't think it will be a problem."

"I'll do the same tonight. Eat at Chicago Stadium?"

"Of course!" she agreed.

"Then I'll plan to pick you up after work on the 6th. Is everything still set for next week with Lily?"

"Yes. I'll walk to her house, and we'll be at the new house by 7:00am."

"Great!"

She set the food on the table, and we sat down to eat.

"How was your counseling session on Saturday?"

"Good. Nancy asked if you'd be willing to come to one of our sessions."

"That didn't go so well last time," I replied.

"She's way different! I explained how you've helped me cope with stress and made me feel comfortable, and she wants to meet you. But it's not about telling you what to do or what not to do or anything like that."

"I'm reluctant, but if you want me to, I will. It'll need to be in a few weeks because of the new house. How about April 9th?"

"I'll call her tomorrow to check, but that should be OK. I meet her at 10:00am. Could we have lunch afterwards?"

"Yes."

"Great!"

We ate, went to class, and at the end of class, I stopped to speak with my professor and explained that I had Hawks playoff tickets and would miss class. He was amenable to me missing class, and I let him know that I'd ask Troy to turn in my homework assignment and get any assignment that was handed out. That accomplished, I left the building and headed to meet Violet. She'd had success with her professor as well, and after our usual coffee and pie, I walked her home, then drove to Rogers Park.

March 22, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Tuesday evening, I picked up Keiko at Loyola, and we drove to her grandfather's house. While we drove, she explained proper etiquette, which involved removing my shoes and putting on slippers he would provide and bowing slightly in response to his bow. She also explained that Japanese names were usually surname first, rather than given name first, and that would be how she introduced her grandfather.

When we arrived in Cicero, it took a bit of time to find a parking spot, and it was a few blocks from her grandfather's house. She reminded me once more of the etiquette as we approached the front door. I was surprised she didn't knock or ring the bell, but simply walked in and called out in Japanese, then pointed to the pairs of white slippers. I slipped off my dress shoes and put on the slippers, and she did the same.

"Jonathan, this is my grandfather, Suzuki Ichirō," Keiko said when her grandfather appeared.

"Good evening," I said.

He bowed, and I bowed slightly in return.

"Welcome to my home, Jonathan-san. Hello, Keiko-chan! Please come in."

We followed him to a room that had Japanese decor, complete with the mat flooring Keiko had described, along with a low table and cushions rather than chairs. Keiko introduced her grandmother, Atsuko, who was waiting for us. About two minutes later, Keiko's parents, Itsurō and Hanako, arrived and were introduced.

I was careful to follow the basic guidelines Keiko had provided and also watched what everyone else did, doing my best not to make a complete fool of myself despite being totally out of my element. It was as if I'd walked into another country, despite not having left Chicago. As Keiko had indicated, I referred to her grandfather as 'Sensei' and her father as 'Itsurō-san'.

"I understand you're a stockbroker," Sensei Ichirō said once we sat down.

"I'm licensed, but my current role is one of analyst, which means I spend most of my time doing research and writing reports for the members of the team who are brokers. It's a normal step in the process of becoming a full broker at the company."

"And you started as a clerk in the mailroom?"

"Yes, and I was promoted to supervisor after one year. In order to move up from there, I studied, took the necessary licensing tests, and after I passed them, received the promotion."

"You have no college degree?" Itsurō-san asked.

"No. I moved here from Ohio immediately after I graduated High School for the job. I am taking classes in the evenings, and eventually, I'll complete a degree, though it's not necessary to do my current or future job."

"Keiko also tells me you're buying a new house."

I nodded, "I am, and she asked about renting a room rather than living in the dorms."

"How can you charge such a low amount for rent?" Itsurō-san asked.

"The company I work for offers low-interest mortgages with no fees, and once I worked out the mortgage costs, I simply charged an appropriate portion to each of the people who will share the house -- my friends Jack and Kristy, who will share a room, my friends Shelly and Bianca who will each have a room, my friend Deanna who will use the attic as a combination bedroom and art studio, and Keiko, who will have a room."

"So many girls!" Hanako said.

Keiko said something in Japanese, which caused her grandmother to smile and roll her eyes, but given I knew exactly zero Japanese words except 'sayonara', 'tsunami', 'karate', and 'kimono', I had no clue what was said. I decided to say something in my own defense, even without understanding what was said.

"It's something that simply worked out that way," I replied. "Bianca and Shelly are current housemates and, as I indicated, have their own room. Jack and I agreed we'd share a place once I moved into a larger house, and, of course, his fiancée is moving in with him. Deanna is an art student I met through some other friends, and, of course, Keiko and I are dating, and she made the request."

"Do not worry, Jonathan-san," Sensei Ichirō said. "You are a polite, successful young man."

Keiko beamed as that statement appeared to be him granting his blessing. The meal was, unsurprisingly, Japanese, and everything was excellent, even though I hadn't eaten much fish in my life beyond fish sticks. Dessert was very American, though -- chocolate ice cream. When dinner was finished, the men went to the living room, which had Western-style furniture but Japanese decor, while the women cleaned up. That wasn't my preferred situation, but it wasn't my call.

"Have you considered studying karate?" Sensei Ichirō asked.

"I've seen your karate gym..."

"Dōjō," he said, correcting me.

"Yes, your dōjō, and I was fascinated by what I saw, but I simply do not have time to dedicate to that."

"What do you do for exercise? You are clearly very fit."

"I go to the gym three times a week, and when the weather is nice enough, I ride my bike."

"Three times a week would be sufficient to properly train."

I nodded, "The gym is in our building, and I can work out at lunch. I have classes at Circle three nights a week as well, so at least for now, it's not something to which I could commit."

"Not everyone is cut out for karate, Dad," Itsurō-san said with a smile.

"And not every son is dutiful in deferring to their elders!" Sensei Ichirō replied with a similar smile.

They both then laughed softly, and the subject was dropped. It seemed obvious to me that they'd had that conversation in the past and that Itsurō-san had not followed in his father's footsteps in that regard. We chatted for another twenty minutes before Keiko appeared and said something to her dad and grandfather in Japanese. They stood, so I did the same, and it was clear then that Keiko had suggested we leave. I thanked Sensei Ichirō for his hospitality, and he walked to the foyer with us, where Keiko and I put our street shoes, coats, and hats, and after bows, she and I left.

"You did very well," she said once we were a few paces down the sidewalk towards the car.

"Thanks. I just watched what everyone else did and was as polite as I knew how to be. I take it your grandfather's comment was his blessing?"

"Yes, and that is the last word for the family, no matter what my mom might think."

"I think your mom figured out the situation without having to be told!"

Keiko laughed, "I would say you're correct!"

"What did you say?"

"I simply reminded her you were a guest and to be as polite as you were being. My grandfather's praise of you was a rebuke to my mother. My grandmother would never say anything aloud, only in private to my grandfather, and my father is always the dutiful son at home. My mom, on the other hand..."

"I got that drift. But I also saw your grandmother's reaction."

"She knows a bit more than my parents, and she voiced no objections when I described our relationship and revealed you were my first and only lover."

"Interesting."

"My grandmother is very much a formal, traditional Japanese woman who holds closely to Buddhist and Shinto beliefs. My dad less so and has more Western ideas than anyone else in the family except my uncle, who is Caucasian. My mom, being born in Japan, is the most traditional, and the most concerned about Japanese identity."

"So, now you have your grandparents' blessing to marry me?" I asked with a slight smile.

Keiko laughed softly, "Yes, though we both know that's not on either of our agendas in the short term. Would I like to be your girlfriend in the sense of being exclusive? Yes. Would I agree to marry you today? No. But that would mean 'not now', and I believe you agree."

"I do," I chuckled.

"Cute!"

"Would you like to spend the night?"

"Yes, of course! Always!"

We got into my car and headed for Rogers Park.

XXVIII. Start By Telling Yourself The Truth

March 23, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Does it bother you that I'm a foot shorter than you?" Keiko asked as we showered on Wednesday morning.

"Does it bother you that I'm a foot taller than you?" I asked.

Keiko laughed softly, "Touché."

"It's an obvious, but mostly irrelevant, physical trait," I replied. "You know I find you attractive, and we've clearly overcome the height difference!"

Keiko smiled, "Yes, we have! And you've made it clear you find me attractive! You know I think you're handsome, too."

"You also know I believe personality and intelligence are far more important."

"Same! And me being Japanese doesn't bother you?"

"Why would it?" I asked. "I actually consider that a positive!"

"Some people are concerned about mixing races."

"I'm certainly not," I said, wondering what had caused her to think that before it dawned on me. "That's your mom's concern, isn't it?"

"Yes. My grandfather has no problem with that. You know my aunt married a Caucasian man, and he and my grandfather get along quite well. My mom never approved, but you know she was born in Japan and has a very Japanese view of mixing races."

"I remember you mentioning that there are very few immigrants in Japan."

"Yes, it's a completely homogenous society, and even a drop of non-Japanese blood can create difficulties."

"That sounds like the foolish laws in the South where a single Afro-American ancestor was enough to make you an Afro-American and to be subjected to racist restrictions on just about everything and segregation just about everywhere."

"Asians have had similar problems in the US. I'm sure you know about the internment of Japanese Americans, but do you know about the Chinese Exclusion Act?"

"No. What's that?"

"A law from not long after the Civil War that effectively banned immigration by Chinese laborers. Before that was the Page Act, which banned immigration by Chinese women. At one point, a newspaper called Chinese immigration an 'invasion'. There were several massacres of Chinese due to severe anti-Asian sentiment because of a belief in the idea of 'Yellow Peril'."

"I think they missed that in my history classes."

"I'm not surprised. They weren't in mine, either. My grandfather taught me about them, as well as the truth about the internment. My great-grandfather served in the Japanese Marines before World War II and emigrated to Hawai´i with his wife in 1926. My grandfather was born in Hawai´i in 1928, and the family moved to California in 1936. They were fortunate because a friend of my paternal great-grandfather saw what was coming and offered my great-grandfather a job here in Chicago. They moved here from Los Angeles in June of 1941, which allowed my grandfather and his parents to avoid going to Manzanar."

"The entire thing was disgraceful."

"Especially given very few Germans were sent to internment camps despite some of them actually working for Nazi Germany, whereas Japanese-Americans did no such thing."

"I'm not familiar enough with that to comment one way or the other except to say that nobody should be imprisoned or have their rights stripped simply because of the color of their skin or their national heritage."

We got out of the shower and dried off.

"Will your mom be a problem?" I asked.

"Do you mean would I allow her to influence me against you? Absolutely not. I think you might have figured out my strategy."

I nodded, "You knew I would treat your grandfather with respect and follow the traditions, at least insofar as I could, and he would approve."

"Exactly! Don't worry about my mom. Would anyone in your family say anything?"

"Not my mom nor my aunt and uncle. I have no idea about my grandparents because I haven't had any contact with them since I was about six, and that was a gift they sent and a thank-you card I sent back."

"Where do they live?"

"Naperville. And they do know I'm here but haven't reached out either directly or through my aunt."

"Have you thought about calling them?"

"Yes, but I choose not to."

"I want to say something, but I don't want it to seem as if I'm pressuring you."

"Go on."

"A very important precept for Japanese is respect for elders, and my grandfather would be unhappy if you were estranged from your grandparents."

"Do you need to say anything to him about that?"

"No. But if we were, at some point, to become a couple with a plan for the future, he'd insist on meeting them."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," I replied. "But I promise to keep an open mind."

"That's all I can ask!"

We finished dressing, went downstairs to have breakfast, then I drove Keiko to Loyola before heading to the Hancock Center. It was a fairly typical Wednesday, and after work, I joined Violet for dinner.

"Nancy said Saturday, April 9th is OK," Violet said.

"I noticed you don't call her 'Doctor'."

"She has a Master's in clinical psychology, not a PhD or MD, so she doesn't use the title 'doctor'. And she doesn't talk or act like Doctor Lochner."

"OK. I'll come here around 9:30am, and then we'll have lunch as we agreed."

"Great!" Violet exclaimed.

We had a nice dinner, then headed to class. Teri continued to be cordial, though I expected that once the class ended in May, I'd never see her again. After class, Violet and I had our usual coffee and pie. When we finished, I walked her to her house, then headed home.

"There's an envelope from the US State Department Passport Office," Bianca said as soon as I walked into the house.

I quickly went to the kitchen and found the envelope, carefully opened it, and extracted my brand-new passport. I checked it for accuracy, then signed it. That accomplished, I watched the evening news with Shelly and Bianca.

"Did you guys watch the speech?" I asked when the news mentioned Reagan's speech on defense and national security.

"No," Bianca replied. "Why?"

"Because what he said will affect the markets, both in terms of risk analysis and defense stocks. I've noticed some moves in defense stocks, but attributed it to the general military build-up. I now suspect part of it was insiders who knew about this new Strategic Defense Initiative. I'll have to read the transcript in the Journal tomorrow."

"In the future, you could record them."

"I never even thought about that!" I chuckled. "We only use the VCR for playback, not recording."

When the news ended, I headed up to bed.

March 24, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

In the Journal on Thursday morning, I read the main point of Reagan's speech --

'I call upon the scientific community in this country, those who gave us nuclear weapons, to turn their great talents to the cause of mankind and world peace, to give us the means of rendering these nuclear weapons impotent and obsolete.'

The gist, though, was that it wasn't even funded as yet, so any pop in defense stocks would be highly speculative.

"What do you think?" I asked Tony when we discussed it when he arrived in the office a few minutes after me.

"Traditional defense stocks may not be the right play," Tony said. "If this is what I think it is, it'll be companies with experience in high-energy physics, computers, space, and satellite systems. There's some overlap, but I'll need to do some research. And this will absolutely affect mining stocks, as many of the same companies that mine precious metals also mine strategic metals. Not to mention the equities held by the pension funds our team manages."

"And most of that mining is done overseas, so international clearing and trade agreements will come into play as well."

"Assuming Congress agrees," Joel, the fixed-income analyst, interjected. "Senator Kennedy called it a 'reckless Star Wars scheme', according to this morning's Washington Post."

"Mutual Assured Destruction is a terrible idea," Tony observed. "But it has managed to keep the peace, or at least limit war to mostly low-intensity conflicts."

"Afghanistan?" I suggested.

"It depends on how you look at what's going on. It's basically asymmetrical warfare, similar to what happened to us in Viet Nam."

"True," I agreed, "and the outcome is likely to be similar."

"Afghanistan is not called 'the graveyard of empires' for no reason," Joel observed.

"We should probably get to work; our analyst reports are due."

When I turned in my report, I also added a request for time off in July for my trip to Saint Martin, noting that I'd count that as my 'sensitive leave' period, which meant actually taking two weeks off, only one of which would be in Saint Martin. I'd need to decide what to do for the rest of the time, but I still had a few months to figure it out. I confirmed with Anna that she would put in her request, let her know I'd received my passport, then went back to my desk.

Later that morning, Mr. Matheson let me know he'd approved the time off request, and at 11:20am, I left the office to meet with Anala.

"You're meeting this guy every Tuesday?" I inquired after we sat down to eat.

"Yes, though he had to cancel on Tuesday because he had a meeting about buying a house. Sound familiar?"

"My age?"

"He's a successful computer programmer and sold a business already."

"He sounds like a guy I should get to know."

"He's going through some serious personal struggles at the moment, so perhaps in the future."

"Me, too," I replied.

"Bev, right?"

I nodded, "Several people have pointed out that...well, that she's basically controlling my life even though I have no idea where she is and haven't heard from her in nearly a month."

"Controlling in what way?" Anala inquired.

"Basically that no matter what relationship I might be in, that if, at some point in the future, Bev came back into my life, I'd abandon it for her."

"What do you think?"

"I think there's probably some truth to that idea because giving up on her feels almost like betrayal."

"You blame yourself because you moved to Chicago, and while that might be a contributing factor, Bev is still responsible for how she reacted. But I wonder if she's suffering from what's called the 'baby blues'."

"What's that?"

"Depression following childbirth. There are historical records back to ancient Greece and India, among other places, that discuss what were called 'hysterical' reactions."

"Funny?" I asked.

"No, that's a modern usage; think 'hysteria'."

"Ah, OK."

"Interestingly, that word derives from the Greek word for 'uterus', and I think you can see the connection."

"Yes. So it's a...what? Mental illness?"

"It would be, insofar as it interfered with friendships, work, caring for oneself, and caring for a baby."

"Are you suggesting that Heather is in danger?"

"It really is a question of whether Bev is thinking rationally or not."

"I'd say 'not'," I replied. "I totally understand wanting to be self-sufficient because of my mom, but what Bev is doing makes no sense."

"I'm going to make an educated guess that you know the source of her irrationality, and it's not simply having had a baby."

"You know most of the details," I said.

"You think it's because of your mom's relationship with Heather's father?"

"Maybe, but I have the distinct impression there's more to it, but it's not as if I can ask Bev about it."

"That is an impediment to solving the riddle," Anala agreed.

We ate in silence for about five minutes before Anala spoke again.

"I feel that you're locked into a pattern of behavior from which you might never escape," she said. "You need to find some way to break the pattern and move forward."

"I'm not sure how to do that without some kind of resolution with Bev."

"That's what I'm getting at," Anala said. "What happens if you never have a resolution? And then she appears out of the blue one day after you've married and had children. Then what?"

"That is exactly what my other friends have suggested without knowing all the details. But I can't just give up on her. It would feel like betrayal, as I said, and I gave my word that I'd always be there for her. What kind of man would I be if I were to yield on one of my most basic core principles in the face of adversity?"

"A wise one," Anala said.

I shook my head, "I don't believe that."

"Then you're stuck. It's one thing to be consistent; it's another thing to be stubborn in the face of evidence that your attempts at consistency are the problem."

"But what are principles if we abandon them? May I turn the tables for a moment?"

"Sure."

"Would you abandon your principles and go to bed with me?"

"You know the answer to that and why. It's not stubbornness; it's about balancing needs, desires, and objectives. That's precisely what you aren't doing. You've put the principle ahead of the damage it's doing to you. You've made duty, honor, and keeping your word a suicide pact with yourself. You'd make a perfect Marine."

"That's hitting below the belt, given you know I'm a confirmed pacifist."

"Just as I am, but at some point, duty to self has to outweigh all other considerations unless you've decided to martyr yourself for Bev."

"Some principles are worth dying for."

Anala nodded, "They are, and if this is one of them, then you'll probably get your wish, at least with regard to something you have maintained is a core value and goal -- a family. I'm going to guess that the friends who have pointed out your pattern of behavior are young women who believe they might have a future with you."

"Yes."

"Work out what they're actually telling you, Jonathan. I understand your point about honoring your core values, but I feel you've created a no-win scenario because you've cut off all means of escape. That was my point about you being locked into a pattern of behavior. Fundamentally, only you can help yourself at this point. Nobody else can."

"Bev could."

"And you just proved my point in a way that you yourself can't refute. You've imprisoned yourself in a cage every bit as effective as the ones fundamentalist religious leaders construct for the flocks."

"Now that's a really low blow!" I protested.

"And yet, completely accurate."

I frowned because there was some truth to what Anala was saying. She and I had discussed the problem of conflicting values and what would be called 'situational ethics', a concept I found distasteful. We finished eating and left the deli.

"You need to solve this problem, Jonathan," Anala said. "Nobody can solve it for you."

I nodded, we hugged, and I headed back to work. The rest of the day was typical, including dinner with Violet and class, though I skipped coffee and pie so that I could meet Mr. Wyatt at the house on Morse Avenue for a final walkthrough before the Friday closing. Bianca and Shelly were already there when I arrived, and Mr. Wyatt arrived a few minutes later.

"Sorry this had to be so late," I said to him as he unlocked the front door.

"I take care of my clients," he said. "Referrals and repeat clients are the key to a successful real estate practice. I'm positive we'll do much more business in the future."

"You've been extremely helpful," I said. "And I, too, value long-term relationships. What am I looking for in this walkthrough?"

"It's mostly a formality," Mr. Wyatt said. "The home inspection was performed after the boiler and water heater were replaced, and the central air was serviced. The inspector checked all the faucets, toilets, and electrical, and looked for any structural damage or pests. Just walk through and verify that the house is in the condition you expected."

"And if not?"

"Then we ask for funds to be withheld by the title company pending resolution."

Bianca, Shelly, and I walked through the entire house and found nothing we considered amiss. With the furniture all removed, it was even more obvious that the floors needed to be refinished and the walls painted, but we'd planned on that.

"Everything looks good," I said. "When do we receive the keys?"

"As soon as you sign the paperwork, the title company will provide you with keys. I removed the lockbox from the door earlier today. I'll give you this key tomorrow afternoon."

"Something I never asked, but how do I know the previous owners didn't retain a key?"

"You don't. If that concerns you, you could have a locksmith re-key all the doors. I can recommend one if you want to do that."

"I think I do. It's not that I expect any trouble, but why take the risk?"

He opened his briefcase and handed me a card for a locksmith, which I stuck in my pocket.

"Anything else?" he asked.

I shook my head, "Not that I can think of. Bianca? Shelly?"

Neither of them had anything to add, so we left the house. I shook hands with Mr. Wyatt, and then Bianca, Shelly, and I got into my car to drive back to the house on Estes Avenue.

"There was a message on the machine for you from Marcia," Bianca said as I pulled away from the curb. "She said it was OK to call any time before 11:00pm."

"OK."

"What's the scoop for tomorrow?" Bianca asked.

"I have to be at the title company at 8:30am," I said. "Nelson will meet me there, and it could take as little as thirty minutes and as long as three or four hours. I'll go to the new house at 4:00pm because that's when the junk man is coming to take away the old appliances. I'll also stop at the hardware store and pick up the painting supplies. Those are the only things for tomorrow. On Saturday, everyone is meeting at the house at 7:00am and we'll bring doughnuts and coffee. Aurelio's will deliver pizza around noon, and we'll knock off around 5:00pm. We'll reconvene on Sunday morning."

"You're seeing Esme and Katy on Sunday, right?"

"Yes, they'll arrive around 7:00pm.

"With all the help, we should be finished painting by early afternoon on Sunday. Then Monday morning, Shelly's dad and his friend will be at the house with the equipment at 6:00am."

"Ugh," Bianca groaned. "Too early!"

"That was when they wanted to start, and I wasn't about to argue with them!"

"My little brother is coming with them," Shelly said. "He's seventeen, so he'll be helpful."

"Cool. I'd say we're in good shape so long as the appliances and furniture are delivered on Thursday as scheduled. Then we'll move Friday morning and clean the old house Friday afternoon."

"We're all going to be beat!" Bianca declared.

"Yes, but it'll be worth it," I said. "Shelly, is your medical student friend going to come to the housewarming?"

"Yes."

"Did he find out where he's going to work?"

"Tomorrow. He knows he Matched, as I said, he just doesn't know where."

We arrived home, and after I changed out of my suit into sweats, I returned Marcia's call.

"Could we get together?" she asked.

"Things are totally crazy for the next ten days or so because of the new house."

"Evenings, too?"

"Yes, because I need to be careful about committing, given we have some tight timeframes. The only thing on my social calendar next week is Jeri's monthly dinner, which I can't really skip."

"Is there any evening I could just come by with a bottle of wine?"

I considered, and I hadn't made plans for Friday night with Jack and Kristy because I hadn't wanted to have to cancel if something went haywire with the closing.

"If we can play it by ear, tomorrow evening would work, assuming everything goes as planned. Let me call you tomorrow afternoon."

"OK. I'll be in the office until 4:30pm."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then joined Bianca and Shelly to relax before bedtime. I hadn't made any progress in my thinking about Bev, so when Bianca offered to spend the night, I politely declined and went to bed alone.

March 25, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Friday morning, Nelson and I met at Chicago Title Company.

"How does this work?" I asked.

"You sign your name about a dozen times, initial about the same number of times, and they give you the keys. They confirmed yesterday they have all the paperwork in order, and the final closing amounts. It's less than the amount in your commitment letter from Spurgeon, so there are no concerns about overages. The ACH transfer from Spurgeon will be executed as soon as you sign."

"What about the seller?"

"They signed yesterday afternoon. Their part is fairly simple. Their attorney will be here this morning in case there are problems. How was the walkthrough?"

"No concerns," I replied. "Mr. Wyatt, Bianca, Shelly, and I walked the entire house. You have a copy of the inspection report."

"Yes. Now we wait."

"Aren't we the first appointment?" I asked.

"Yes, and title companies are notoriously slow and late. There's no good reason for it except that they don't care because they don't have to. You need them; they don't need you."

"Wonderful. That sounds like the SNL joke about the phone company."

"Exactly. And as the buyer, you don't have any control over which title company is selected. You aren't their client."

True to Nelson's prediction, we weren't called until nearly thirty minutes after our appointment time, and for some unknown and unexplained reason, some forms were missing. It took another fifteen minutes to find them and then another thirty to read and sign everything. From my perspective, what should have taken no more than thirty minutes, start to finish, took nearly two hours from the scheduled appointment time until I walked out, keys in hand.

"Congratulations!" Nelson said once we'd left the building.

"Is there anything left to do?"

"From my perspective? No. All the legal stuff is out of the way."

"Then I'll see you on Tuesday at Jeri's."

We shook hands, and he headed for his office while I headed home. At home, I called ComEd and People's Gas to switch the utilities to my name, then called the locksmith and set up an appointment for Tuesday morning. I'd already spoken to the State Farm agent, and the insurance on the house had gone into effect at a minute past midnight, and the phone would be switched on Friday. I called Continental Cablevision and arranged for cable TV installation and was happy to discover they could do it on Thursday afternoon.

All of that accomplished, I drove to Ace Hardware to pick up the paint and supplies we'd need, then headed to my new house. When I arrived, I stashed all the supplies in the garage so that they wouldn't be in the way, then let myself into my new house.

As I walked around, I remembered the promise I'd made to Shelly and Bianca about christening the house, but that was no longer possible, at least with Shelly. I also wondered if she might move out before graduation. I knew I was thinking ahead, but I pretty much had to do that. In a sense, it wouldn't hurt if she moved out, but I would miss her company, even if she wasn't in my bed.

There really wasn't anything else to do at the house until the junk man arrived at 4:00pm, and with no telephone, radio, or TV, there was no point in hanging out. I left the house, locked the doors, then drove back to the house on Estes Avenue, which, strangely, no longer felt like 'home' despite all my things being there. It was strange that signing my name a dozen times and receiving a key had changed things so significantly, but it was my first house.

I made myself lunch, and after I ate, I called Marcia.

"Everything went relatively smoothly," I said. "I'm free except from 4:00pm to 5:00pm when they're coming to take away the old appliances from my new house."

"How about I come by around 5:30pm? We could order pizza, or I can stop and pick up Italian."

"Italian sounds good," I said.

"Do I need enough for your roomies?"

I checked the calendar and saw they would both be out.

"No. Shelly has a date with her soon-to-be doctor, and Bianca is hanging out with friends from Loyola."

"And your parents will be OK with you having a girl in your house?" Marcia teased.

"Considering my mom had no problem with Bev sleeping in my bed in my mom's house, I don't think she's going to object to me having dinner and wine with you! Not to mention, my mom doesn't live here!"

"See you at 5:30pm. Veal Parm, spaghetti, and garlic bread?"

"Sounds good! See you then."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up. Given how busy the weekend and the following week were going to be, I started a load of laundry, then went to Jewel for things we'd need during the week, being careful not to buy too much so that we didn't have to move it from one house to the other. When I arrived home, I finished my laundry and then listened to music until Bianca and Shelly arrived home from class at 3:30pm.

"I realized something we hadn't considered," I said after they'd put their things in their room and come back downstairs.

"What's that?" Bianca asked.

"Shelly can't help us christen the new house."

Shelly frowned, then said, "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," I said. "I wasn't complaining, simply noting that we couldn't do what we'd planned. Speaking of which, did you hear from Perry?"

"I called him at 10:30am from campus. He Matched at Cook County."

"How long does his training last?" I asked.

"For ER doctors, it's three years, so he's guaranteed to be there until after I graduate."

"Thinking ahead?" I asked.

Shelly laughed, "No more than you do! But I like him a lot."

"I need to get over to the new house to meet the junk man," I said.

"I'll come along," Bianca said. "Shelly is meeting Perry at 5:00pm, but I don't have to meet the girls at Loyola until 6:00pm."

Bianca and I decided to walk to the new house, and I was surprised when she slipped her hand into mine.

"Interesting development," I said.

Bianca laughed, "What? I can't just hold your hand?"

"You can; you just never did that before."

"I felt you needed it. You've been a bit out of sorts the last week. I feel responsible."

"You aren't," I said. "Anna, Keiko, and Anala all basically agree with you. Anna and Anala both really took me to task."

"But not me?"

"With you, it felt more like you were engaging in a conversation rather than telling me I...had my head up my ass, I guess is the best way to put it."

"Keiko?"

"No, sorry, she simply noticed I was in a mood. Anna and Anala both really laid into me, though I kind of understand."

"May I make an observation that is going to sound self-serving?"

I chuckled, "I know your goals, young lady, so no need to remind me every time! I also know we love each other, so I'll take anything you say with that in mind."

"Before I say what I was going to say, I'm happy that it didn't freak you out for me to say that I love you."

"Because I feel the same way."

"But you still have the mental block about my idea for the future."

"I wouldn't call it that at this point, just that it doesn't fit with how I had seen the future. At this point, I'd say my options are open, though to hear Anala and Anna tell it, I've locked myself into a future which can only lead to disaster."

"Before I say what I was going to say, I have one more question. I get why Anna might push, given she's thinking about a possible long-term relationship. What's with Anala?"

"She sees me being pig-headed," I replied. "And that bugs her."

"I'm sorry, but if I were Bev, I'd be very happy you were being stubborn in that way. What kind of man would you be if you bailed at the first sign of real adversity?"

"Thank you!" I exclaimed. "That was the exact question I asked Anala."

"And that leads right to my point -- I think you may have outgrown her advice. When you were a complete neophyte, you needed her. Now, you don't, or at least not in the same way. Who gives you the best advice now?"

"You do, of course."

"And who do you have your deepest philosophical debates with?"

"Marcia or Kasia."

"But neither of them are long-term prospects, right?"

"I don't think so. Teri and I had some pretty good philosophical debates."

"That girl is an idiot!" Bianca declared. "You are SO into redheads that you'd choose her over Keiko, despite your fetish for Oriental girls."

"If you mean with regard to attraction? Probably, but Keiko and I are far more compatible."

"Along with Deanna and me, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, the artiste will happily be your mistress for life! It's in her blood! That just means convincing Keiko it's OK to have a baby with me and fuck me while she has the government paperwork!"

I chuckled, "Good luck with that! And you're getting WAY ahead of things."

"Besides what society might say, tell me one thing wrong with my plan!"

"Neither of them will fuck you!" I chuckled.

"OK, but you wouldn't object to me having girlfriends in that situation, would you?"

"What you do is your business, so long as we keep our commitments to each other."

"So, that objection is resolved. There are two things holding you back, or, rather, two women."

"Bev and Violet."

"Yes. One of those is actually easier than the other, if you make it easier."

"Bev, right?"

"Yes. I won't push the point, but she's run away twice now, and neither time to you, despite the fact that you'd have taken her in without a second thought. And this time, she's cut you off completely."

"Which I simply can't fathom," I replied. "Anala suggested something called 'baby blues', which is where the mom becomes depressed and potentially irrational after giving birth. It fits the facts. And that means she needs help."

"Yes, but unless SHE admits it, there is literally nothing you can do."

"Logically, you're correct."

"You know what your true struggle is? It's your heart versus your brain. You always listen to your brain, except with regard to Bev."

I took a deep breath and let it out, "I know."

"You have plenty of time to work it out, and I won't pressure you. My timeframe for a baby is around age twenty-five after I've graduated, and I've been working for a few years. And there is nothing you can do which would interfere unless, ultimately, Mrs. Jonathan Kane rejects my request to keep fucking you and to have your baby."

"What's your alternate plan?"

"There are, as they say, other fish in the sea. I'd just rather not have to go fishing for a guy!"

"Speaking of fishing, are you seeing anyone?"

"I'm spending the night with Juliette. I can't really bring her to the old house because Shelly and I share a room. The new house won't be a problem because there is an extra bedroom. I was going to discuss that with you."

"I wondered about that, and I also wondered if Shelly might move out."

"This is just me speculating, but I think once Perry starts working, she'll move in with him. They haven't screwed yet, but I suspect that will be remedied tonight to celebrate him being hired at Cook County."

"If so, then won't your room be free to use tonight?"

"I don't know for sure, so it's better to spend the night in the dorm. Juliette's roommate left for home this afternoon. Juliette leaves for San Diego tomorrow afternoon."

"OK. What's the plan for christening the house?"

"There's no reason we can't christen the bar after the appliances are removed! And the only rooms we have to worry about before Friday are the bedrooms the others will use. The rest we can work out if we don't get to them before Easter Sunday."

"Sounds like a plan," I agreed.

We reached the house, I unlocked the door, and we went inside. I used the tools I'd dropped off with the painting supplies to disconnect the gas and water lines, and we unplugged everything. Just after 4:00pm, two muscular guys arrived in a flatbed truck and made quick work of removing the old refrigerator, stove, and dishwasher. I signed their work order, and they departed, leaving Bianca and me at the house. Bianca smiled, grabbed my hand, and led me to the basement.

"How does this fantasy play out?" I asked.

"We go behind the bar, you bend me over and fuck me as hard as you can!"

"Out of curiosity..."

"From a letter to Penthouse," Bianca smirked.

"What in the world were you doing reading Penthouse?"

Bianca laughed, "First of all, I like looking at naked girls as much as you do! And second, we were laughing about the letters section. I just laugh because some of that stuff is so obviously fake, but also is nothing compared to your sex life! Strip and sit on the barstool. I'll suck you, then we'll go behind the bar and fuck!"

I chuckled, "I don't believe I need encouragement!"

"You never do the first time, but I like doing that, and it gets me wet."

We fulfilled Bianca's fantasy twice, thereby christening the rec room. What we hadn't counted on was having no bath towels, but there were paper towels in the kitchen. We took the roll upstairs, rinsed off in the shower, dried ourselves with the paper towels, then left my house to walk back to the old house.

"We need to bring towels, soap, and TP with us tomorrow," Bianca observed.

"Just remember that for the morning, please."

Once we arrived home, Bianca got ready for her evening out and left the house. Marcia arrived as planned with the food, and we sat down at the dining room table to eat and drink the bottle of wine she'd brought with her.

"What do you think of President Reagan's proposal?" I asked. "Or maybe it's better to ask what your boss thinks."

"Too much money is being spent on the military and not enough on social services."

"Don't you think finding a way to defend against nuclear missiles is a good idea?"

"In principle, yes, but a unilateral development of that kind of defense is destabilizing. The entire point of the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty in 1972 was to stabilize the number of nuclear weapons to prevent one side from trying to overwhelm the other country's defenses."

"Mutual Assured Destruction is literally insane," I said.

"And yet, it works. What President Reagan is proposing would change the balance of power and might actually encourage the Soviets to attack if they believe their nuclear deterrence is no longer effective."

"I see your point, but wouldn't it be better to negotiate a treaty to reduce nuclear weapons? That's what Reagan proposed last year, and I think it makes more sense. That said, I don't see how building defensive systems is wrong."

"As I said, it's destabilizing, not to mention the costs. But is politics what you want to discuss?"

"That is part of our relationship," I replied. "I provide financial wisdom, and you provide political insight."

"I'd ask where we are, but you'd say 'sitting in my dining room'!"

"I suppose I am that predictable."

"Did I do something wrong?" Marcia asked.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you seem a bit stressed on a day you should be extremely happy."

"Is it that obvious?"

"It is to me, at least. I can see it in your eyes. Usually, you have a mischievous look, but today, I don't see it. Is it me?"

"No. It's me, and it has to do with an internal conflict. In a sense, you might say that, like you, I've been lying to myself."

"About?" Marcia asked.

"My relationship with Bev, more or less from the day she turned sixteen."

"The whole 'girlfriend/not girlfriend' thing?"

"Yes, and I don't know if I've ever told myself the truth about our relationship, and now I'm confused as to how to proceed."

"I'd guess you should start by telling yourself the truth."

XXIX. A New Home, Part I

March 26, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Marcia had left around 9:00pm, and I was sure I hadn't been very good company. Once she'd left, I'd spent an hour doing something I hadn't done very often -- playing video games on my Atari console. That hadn't helped improve my mood, so I'd decided to go to bed, knowing I had to be up early and had a long week ahead.

I woke up early on Saturday morning as planned, dressed, and then discovered that Shelly hadn't come home, which didn't surprise me. I left the house, drove to Dunkin' Donuts, and bought three dozen doughnuts and two 'coffee boxes', which held twelve cups each. Sugar and caffeine in hand, I headed to the new house, arriving before anyone else.

I unlocked the house, put the coffee and doughnuts on the kitchen counter, then went to the garage to retrieve the supplies. It took four trips, and I'd just finished when Bianca arrived, followed by Lily and Violet. Over the next ten minutes, the rest of the gang arrived -- Shelly, Keiko, Deanna, Dustin, Jack, Kristy, Miranda, and finally Stuart, who was acting as our foreman, as he had extensive experience painting and remodeling.

Everyone had doughnuts and coffee, then while Jack and Kristy removed outlet and switch covers, the rest of us taped baseboards, door frames, and window frames and put down drop cloths in the master bedroom and attic bedroom, where we would start painting. By the time the pizza was delivered, we'd finished the upstairs, and after we ate, we painted the downstairs. Stuart checked everything, and we called it a day at 5:00pm, with a plan to reassemble on Sunday morning for a second coat.

I'd gone home, cleaned up, then dressed for my date with Beth. We met at our usual haunt, Eli's The Place for Steak.

"How is business?" I asked Beth once we were seated.

"Good. Your lawyer friend referred two other attorneys from his office, and they each told two friends, and that's how we get our best business. I handed out two of your cards to lawyers from a different firm. How are things with you?"

"I closed on my new house yesterday, and today we painted. We'll apply the second coat tomorrow, then on Monday, we'll begin refinishing the wood floors."

"When do you actually move in?"

"Friday. There's a housewarming party on Saturday, and if you want to come in the evening after your family time, you're welcome to join us."

The waiter came to take our orders, and we ordered both our drinks and dinner.

"I think I will join you," she said once the waiter had left. "I can leave any time after about 3:30pm without anyone being upset. What time do you start tomorrow?"

"7:00am," I replied. "And I have to stop at Dunkin' Donuts beforehand."

"Ugh. Would you be upset if I go home around midnight rather than spend the night?"

"No, I won't be upset," I replied. "I should have mentioned it when we spoke the other night."

"Don't sweat it! We have a good four hours to fool around after dinner."

Dinner and dessert were excellent, and when we finished, we headed to the house on Estes Avenue, each in our own car. At the house, Beth and I greeted Bianca and Shelly, then went straight up to my room. Just under four hours later, we got out of the shower, dried ourselves, dressed, and then I walked Beth to her car.

"I really enjoy our dinners and the after-dinner entertainment!" she said. "See you next Saturday?"

"Yes. I very much enjoy them as well!"

We hugged and exchanged a quick kiss, and once she'd driven away, I went back into the house and went straight to bed.

March 27, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Sunday morning was a repeat of Saturday, though Stuart wasn't available because he was on shift, but both Costas and Trevor showed up to help. We made quick work of the second coat, then cleaned up by removing the tape and taking the tarps to the garage. The last step was reattaching the outlet and switch covers.

Everything was set for Monday morning when we'd begin working on the floors, and Bianca, Shelly, and I headed home at about 5:30pm, ordering pizza for dinner.

"You seem to be in a somewhat better mood," Bianca observed as we ate.

"I didn't want to drag everyone else down," I replied. "But I also came to a conclusion."

"Care to share?"

"It's actually a simple one in concept but difficult in practice, and that is to stop lying to myself."

"About Bev?"

"Primarily, as that's the core problem."

"May I make an observation?" Bianca asked.

"Always."

"There's a way to resolve the situation with Bev without violating your commitment to be there for her. You can support her, protect her, encourage her, or however you want to define it as her friend. Nothing about your commitment requires you to marry her."

I finished eating my slice of pizza before answering.

"I hear you," I said. "But something I haven't shared was that we did discuss marriage, and Bev said that she'd accept an offer of marriage at any point after last December 26th."

"OK, fine, but did you actually formally propose?" Bianca asked.

"No. I did ask her to come live with me, though. Several times."

"You have her answer, Jonathan, loud and clear."

"Yes, but I struggle with the idea that her irrational behavior might be the result of the 'baby blues'."

"Does it matter? I realize it's different in many ways, but Huifen cut off contact with you, and after a few attempts, you simply let go. And she was one girl who you considered going steady with."

"That's a reasonable point," I admitted.

"Is it OK to ask what exactly you feel you've lied to yourself about?" Shelly inquired.

"Yes, because if it wasn't, I wouldn't have said it! I think it starts with acknowledging that Bev was my girlfriend without qualifying it, acknowledging I broke up with her by moving without discussing it with her or making plans for our future. I also acknowledge my vision of the future was always based on being married to Bev, even if I never articulated it or even admitted it to myself."

"That's huge!" Shelly exclaimed.

"That's what all the girls say when they see Jonathan naked!" Bianca exclaimed, causing both Shelly and me to laugh, then she asked, "So, what does that mean?"

"I'm not sure yet," I replied. "But your comment about Huifen earlier is relevant, even if there are some fairly stark differences. I think where the true difference arises is I expect Bev to get in touch at some point, while I don't expect Huifen to do that."

"I'm not sure that survives a basic logic test and assumes facts for which you have no evidence," Bianca said.

"How so?" I asked.

"Nothing prevents Huifen from calling you any more than anything prevents Haley or Teri from wanting to see you again. Would you start a relationship with them? I think that depends on things you don't know and can't predict, so you can't say one way or the other. And all three of them made the point that if you were willing to be exclusive, they were interested.

"On the other hand, Bev knows you wanted to marry her, and you offered her a place to stay, both with and without strings attached. You were willing to be exclusive with her, support her, and help care for Heather, and she still walked away, whether it was 'baby blues' or embarrassment or whatever. She told you she was leaving home and made sure you knew where she was, and you helped her. Then she simply disappeared without a word to you or anyone. I don't feel you can reasonably draw the conclusion that she'll ever get in touch."

"I know," I sighed. "And that is the thing that bothers me the most. I would have thought our relationship was such that it warranted at least 'goodbye' and a promise that, at some point, she'd get in touch, even if it was a postcard without a return address saying she and Heather were OK. The fact that didn't happen pretty much confirms your analysis that I actually can't count on her getting in touch."

"Have you concluded what that means?"

"Oh, I know what it means," I replied. "I just need to digest it and come to terms with it. Give me a few days to think it through."

"Of course!"

The doorbell rang, and I got up to answer it.

"Ah, the virgin sacrifices!" Shelly teased.

"Not anymore!" Bianca tittered. "Jonathan took care of that!"

"You two are so bad!" I chuckled, leaving the dining room to answer the door.

I opened the door to see Katy and Esme, as expected.

"Hi!" they exclaimed simultaneously.

"Hi!" I replied.

I invited them into the house, and Shelly and Bianca came to greet them as well. The girls chatted for a few minutes, then Esme, Katy, and I went upstairs to my room.

"How is Princeton?" I asked Katy as we began undressing.

"Awesome! I'm earning all A's and having a great time!"

"I heard from Esme that you had your threesome."

"I did! Both ways! A girl and me with a guy, and me with two guys!"

"And when I get there," Esme smirked, "we're going to get together with two guys and have a foursome!"

"I repeat what I said before -- I'm not sure Princeton will survive!"

"College is supposed to be fun!" Esme declared.

"So long as you maintain your GPA, I think you should have as much fun as possible without ending up in the emergency room or being arrested!"

Both girls laughed as we all three finished undressing and stood naked.

"Did you have a plan for tonight?" I asked.

"Esme and I will get it on while you watch, then we'll fuck and suck you, kissing each other after blowjobs and licking each other after fucking. Go until you can't get it up anymore."

"No sane man would object!"

"Yes, but what about you?" Esme asked with a silly smile.

"Sane or not, I won't object! Are you spending the night?"

"Yes!" Esme exclaimed. "With Bianca here, my parents were cool with me staying over, though they don't know what we're about to do!"

"That's probably a good thing!" I chuckled. "Fair warning, I need to be up at 5:00am so I can be at my new house at 6:00am to meet Shelly's dad, brother, and her dad's friend to get started on the floors."

"Working backwards," Esme observed, "four hours of sleep would give us six hours to play!"

"That will work," I agreed.

"Katy?" Esme said sexily, "Want to be my first girl?"

"Yes!" Katy exclaimed happily.

The two girls fell into bed giggling, but the giggling stopped quickly as they locked lips and engaged in a deep French kiss. I watched in rapt attention as the girls took turns kissing, licking, and sucking each other's nipples before engaging in sixty-nine. Esme wasn't tentative at all, and the girls had no trouble bringing each other off multiple times.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" I asked Esme.

"Yes! And now we're going to give you a joint blowjob!"

They did, and their two mouths and four hands made the experience extremely pleasurable, with Katy finishing me before sharing with Esme by way of a French kiss and then each girl French kissing me.

"From now until 1:00am," Esme said, "one of us on your face, and the other on your dick, facing each other so we can kiss and play with each other's boobs and stuff. When you cum, the girl on your dick will lift off and lie back so the other one can lick her then suck you while you keep licking her. When you get hard again, we switch places and keep going. OK?"

"I'm participating in your fantasy," I replied. "So it's up to you what we do."

"Cool!" Esme exclaimed.

March 28, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Do we have time to give you a 'thank you' blowjob?" Katy asked when we got into the shower early on Monday morning.

"I'll make time," I chuckled.

The previous night had been fun, and I wasn't overly tired because mostly I had simply been on my back with the girls doing all the work except for my tongue. My jaw ached a bit, but that was a small price to pay for an amazing night of sex with two fun, willing girls who were now giving me another fantastic joint blowjob.

This time, I finished in Esme's mouth, and she and Katy shared a sloppy French kiss before each of them gave me a deep French kiss. We finished in the shower, dried off, dressed, and stripped the sheets from the bed, then took them downstairs. Both Esme and Katy offered to help with the work at the new house, and I accepted, though we had more than enough help to complete the floors.

We left the house at 5:40am, stopped at Dunkin' Donuts for donuts and coffee for the gang, then headed to the new house, arriving just before Mr. Kind, his friend Bob Rockford, and Shelly's brother, Neil. We helped them move the equipment and supplies into the house, and once Kristy, Keiko, Miranda, Bianca, Shelly, Lily, Violet, Deanna, Allyson, Dustin, and Archie arrived, Mr. Kind explained what we'd need to do.

"First, we have to clean the floors. I have several spray bottles of ten-to-one white vinegar solution. Every floor has to be sprayed, then wiped with one of the mops. Everyone grab a bottle or mop, and let's get started!"

With everyone working together, that took just under thirty minutes, at which point Mr. Kind handed out 180-grit sandpaper and instructed us to hand-sand the perimeter of every room, along with any place the buffer wouldn't be able to reach.

"What about sanding blocks?" Jack asked.

Mr. Kind shook his head, "It's too easy to miss spots which are uneven, and I see several just in the dining room here. You want to sand with the grain to about six inches from the baseboard. Sand until the finish is dull and a powder forms."

That took nearly two hours with all of us working hard, and when we finished, Mr. Kind and Mr. Rockford carried the sander upstairs, then used a rope to get it into the attic room. They sanded the floor, then moved to the master bedroom.

We waited fifteen minutes for the powder in the attic to settle, then used the ShopVac they'd brought with them to suck up the powder using a special attachment with felt around the edges. Once the bulk of the powder was removed, we used a special dry mop to pick up the remaining particles.

"Put booties on your shoes," Mr. Kind said, "and then put on the special masks because you're going to be in concentrated fumes, especially in the attic. I'll show you how to cut-in the edges, then roll out the finish on the rest of the floor. I have enough equipment that we can do three rooms at a time. Bob and Neil will continue sanding, and I'll supervise."

We worked hard for the rest of the morning, breaking at noon for pizza and then returning to work, finishing the entire house just before 6:00pm.

"Everything looks good," Mr. Kind said. "We'll meet tomorrow morning at 6:00am to put on the second coat, then it needs to sit forty-eight hours before you put down the butcher paper. When do you plan to move in, Jonathan?"

"Friday," I replied. "The appliances and some new furniture will be here on Thursday."

"OK. Keep the butcher paper down and try to only walk on it until Friday. That'll ensure the finish has time to set."

I handed Mr. Kind a check to cover the cost of the supplies and a bit extra, and everyone left. As we'd planned, Keiko returned to the old house with me to have dinner and spend the night.

After dinner, she agreed to watch a tape I'd made of a TV movie -- Special Bulletin about terrorists who had built an atomic bomb and were threatening to detonate it. Following what appeared to be a successful raid by the FBI and police, the bomb had gone off when the NEST team trying to disarm it hit a booby trap.

"Do you think that could happen?" Keiko asked.

"If you could get the fissionable material, yes," I replied.

"Scary."

"I agree."

March 29, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

We met at the new house early on Tuesday, as we'd planned, and once everyone had doughnuts and coffee, we got to work putting on the second coat of finish. We completed everything by 2:00pm, and most everyone left, though I stayed at the new house, waiting for the locksmith, who arrived at 3:00pm, as we'd agreed. He quickly changed the keyways on the doors to the house and garage and provided me with ten sets of keys, as I'd requested.

When he finished, I headed home for a shower and a nap before Jeri's monthly dinner. When I got up, I dressed and went downstairs, where Shelly and Bianca were listening to music.

"Got time for a logistical question?" Bianca asked.

"Sure."

"Is there going to be a rotation for who sleeps in your bed?"

"I hadn't really given it much thought," I replied. "I suppose the best thing for me to say is that you, Keiko, and Deanna should work it out but leave Friday and Saturday open."

"I think we can come up with something," Bianca said. "They're both totally chilled about the situation and both playing the long game."

"As you are," I said with a sly smile.

"It's the smart play for all of us. That was Haley's and Teri's mistake. Any more thoughts on what you said the other day?"

"Give me a few more days," I said. "I have a pretty good idea of what I need to do; I just need to give it a bit more thought."

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Packing in the morning and then seeing Miranda."

"Nothing at the new house, right?"

"Correct."

"Is Allyson spending the night?"

"That's up to her," I replied. "I won't know until after dinner."

I checked my watch, saw it was time to leave, so I walked out the back of the house, got into the car, and headed for Jeri's house in Kenwood. Karl greeted me at the door as usual, but didn't walk me in nor announce me, something for which I was grateful.

"Hi!" Jeri exclaimed when I walked into the great room.

"Hi!"

She jumped up and gave me a tight hug and a peck on the cheek.

"I'm loving the gains in both the trust and the Cincinnatus fund! I'd love to thank you properly!"

"We're sticking to my definition of business, not yours!" I said with a smile.

"You can't fault a girl for trying! You know I'll do literally anything you want, no holds barred, no options off the table."

"And you know I believe our best option is a business partnership, as I define it."

"Hey ho!" Allyson exclaimed, coming into the room.

We greeted her, and a few minutes later, Gary, Nelson, and Pete arrived, and Karl brought each of us our usual before-dinner drinks. I had interim statements for each of them from the Cincinnatus fund, and they were as appreciative as Jeri, though they didn't make the same offer. Allyson was the lone member of the group who had no money to invest, but I was sure that would change once she graduated from medical school.

"What does Senator Dixon think of Reagan's Strategic Defense Initiative?" I asked Gary.

"He is taking a 'wait-and-see' approach. While he respects Senator Kennedy, he wants to see actual legislation before he decides if he's going to support or oppose the idea of a ballistic missile defense system."

"Any non-confidential information you can relay would be appreciated."

"By all of us!" Nelson declared.

"Well, when I eventually have some money!" Allyson groused. "I still have six years of school."

"Any news from the banking sector?" I asked Pete.

"Nothing really, and you're probably more in tune with the overall financial markets than I am. I'm positive you know the thing you should watch out for is non-performing loan ratios."

"Yes. And again, any non-confidential information you share benefits all of us," I said, then smiled at Allyson and added, "Eventually."

"What's the hot stock play?" Pete asked.

"Just take a look at the statement," I said. "It shows all my current positions. What's not on there is the next gold and silver play, which should net us significant gains similar to the ones we just had."

"How do you know?"

"By watching the technical details," I replied. "By looking at the spreads and the retail volume, I can get a pretty good idea of when there will be a correction. I'll defend the position with options, so the worst-case scenario is a small loss, but the upside is huge."

"Why doesn't everyone do that?" Gary asked.

"The professional traders do," I replied. "It's the retail investor who ends up being fleeced because they only look at the spot price, not futures, options, and spreads. They also tend not to look at international exchange and also don't apply appropriate global risk analysis. I'm not an expert yet, but I'm learning and building a model. And despite the gains I've shown, they're a drop in the bucket compared to basic currency arbitrage that my mentor does day in and day out."

"How?"

"If I knew the answer to that question, I wouldn't need him as a mentor! I mean, I know the mechanics, and it has to do with supply and demand of currencies and tiny spreads between exchange prices around the world. But when you move a hundred million dollars, a spread of a tenth of a percent is real money! If you can do that two hundred trading days a year, you make twenty million.

"Before you ask why everyone doesn't do that, it's because a retail investor doesn't have that kind of liquid cash to move around. Without that kind of liquid cash, you can't get the best prices, not to mention the average investor cannot take on the exchange rate risk.

"The magic, if you will, is in finding those spreads and making the deals, and that requires the Rolodex my mentor has that contains phone numbers of central bankers, politicians, currency traders, and other key individuals. This small group we have here is the start of my Rolodex, and the larger it grows, the more money we can make."

"And that's all legal?" Allyson asked.

"So long as I follow all securities regulations -- and I do -- yes. That's why I made the point about non-confidential information. Insider trading would land ALL of us in jail. Interestingly, with very few exceptions, anything Gary can tell me would not be insider information, as anything outside national security is technically public if it's discussed in the context of legislative action.

"For example, finding out a day or two beforehand that Senator Schlub is going to introduce legislation that would affect the economy or a specific industry or whatever isn't 'insider' information. On the other hand, if Pete tells us about something that is discussed internally at Continental Illinois, isn't made public, and has a material effect on their stock, that would be 'insider' information.

"Another example is that a friend of mine was part of a drug trial and let me know that it was extremely effective. If the drug is approved by the FDA, it'll create significant profits for the manufacturer. Because my friend isn't an insider, there's nothing wrong with me adding shares of that company to our portfolio, which I did. You'll see we're long Eli Lilly based on their new drug, fluoxetine.

"The same would be true if I heard from a doctor how effective the drug was. The flip side is that if I heard it from someone at Eli Lilly or the FDA, it would most likely be 'insider' information. The same would be true if someone at the FDA gave me advance knowledge of approval or denial. And, yes, agencies are different from Congress, in that they can have confidential information which is not related to national security."

Karl came into the room just then to announce, "Dinner is served."

"How is the new house?" Nelson asked after we sat down.

"So far, so good," I replied. "The walls are painted, and the floors have been refinished. The new appliances will be delivered on Thursday, we'll move on Friday, then clean the old house. Is everyone coming to the housewarming party on Saturday?"

Everyone acknowledged that they'd be at the housewarming, and the conversation turned to the Hawks prospects in the playoffs, the Bears need for serious improvement, and the usual haplessness of the Cubs. The White Sox, on the other hand, looked to have a solid team and had a good shot at winning their division. The same could not be said for the Cincinnati Reds, who I expected to finish last.

Dinner was, as always, excellent, as was dessert. We had coffee in the great room, and when the gathering broke up, Allyson accompanied me to my car.

"Interested in spending the night?" I asked once I'd pulled away from the curb.

"Duh!" Allyson laughed. "I enjoy our monthly trysts!"

"What about getting home?"

"Kristy will come get me around 10:00am. We're going shopping."

"Sounds good. How are things at home?"

"Fine. Once I pointed out to Dad how Clara had offered to sleep with you when she was fifteen and had come on to you with her robe open and nothing on underneath, and you told her unequivocally 'no', he was FAR more unhappy with Clara than he was with you."

"I'm not sure I'd have approached it that way," I said.

"She'd told him that you'd slept with both of us, so there was nothing to lose. I got some grief about having you spend the night, but I'm not living at home, so it's not that big a deal."

"And your dad won't say anything to Kristy's dad?"

"No. And Clara wasn't dumb enough to say anything about you being with Marie or Jenny."

"You know about that?"

"I think I told you Clara and I were pretty close, and she told me when it happened. That was before she tried to force the issue of being exclusive, so it wasn't out of spite. She obviously knew I'd been with you before we slept together at my house. And I think she told me partly as bragging and partly to show that anything I could do, she could do. And in her mind, do better!"

"No comment," I chuckled.

Allyson laughed, "Marie and Jenny weren't interested in a threesome, so my darling baby sister loses out to Kristy and me!"

"She did ask if she was better, and I declined to make the comparison."

"That's smart!"

When we arrived at the house, Allyson and I said 'hi' to Shelly and Bianca, then went up to my room.

"What's your pleasure?" I asked as we began undressing.

"Sixty-nine, then we fuck until we're too tired to continue."

She came to me, we hugged, kissed, and fell into bed.

March 30, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Wednesday morning, after showering and eating breakfast, Allyson helped me pack, starting with the computer equipment in the attic room. By the time Kristy arrived to pick up Allyson for their shopping trip, we'd finished with the computers and most of the kitchen. By lunchtime, I had most of my belongings packed as well, leaving just the things I'd need before Saturday morning.

I left the house at about 1:00pm to drive to Miranda's house to pick her up for our date. Her dad, Robert, who was my CPA, greeted me and invited me into his home office.

"I've finished your tax returns for last year," he said. "They're simple, though that will change going forward now that you're running your fund. You'll receive a modest refund this year, and I'd like to review your projected income for this year to ensure your withholding is correct. Incorrect withholding can create a very rude surprise if your income changes dramatically from one year to the next. You should send me copies of your financial statements for your fund at the end of each month, and also let me know about any payments beyond your base salary. We'll want to make estimated tax payments on a quarterly basis to stay out of trouble with the IRS."

"I'll send you copies of all my pay stubs," I said. "Then send them to you as I get them, along with the monthly financial statement for the fund."

"That sounds good. I'll file your return for you next week, but you can sign the form today. I'll send you an invoice once the return is sent to the IRS."

"What about Illinois?"

"A small refund as well. I have those forms for you to sign."

He produced them, I quickly scanned them and didn't see anything amiss or odd, so I signed both forms.

"Ready!" Miranda exclaimed from the door to the office.

"Then I'll let you go, Jonathan."

I stood, then Bob and I shook hands. Miranda greeted me with a quick hug and a peck on the cheek, and we left the house.

"What did you want to do today?" I asked as we got into my car.

"Dinner and a movie?" she suggested. "I want to see The Outsiders. It's a drama directed by Francis Ford Coppola about rich kids versus kids from the wrong side of the tracks and stars a bunch of new young actors."

"I'm game. Which theatre?"

"The closest would be at Fox Valley Mall."

"How about Fuddruckers for dinner?"

"Sure! Movie first, right?" Miranda asked.

"That makes sense," I confirmed.

The movie was pretty good from my perspective, but Miranda had read the book on which it was based and thought the movie was just OK. When we left the theatre, we went to Fuddruckers, which was on the other side of the mall building, far enough away that we drove rather than walked. I really enjoyed my steak sandwich and home fries, and Miranda enjoyed her burger and home fries.

"Now what?" I asked as we left the restaurant.

"There's an Oberweis on the other side of Route 59," Miranda offered.

"Sounds good to me."

We drove there, and we each ordered a turtle sundae.

"I'd offer you my cherry, but you got that already!" Miranda smirked.

"Something I appreciate you sharing with me!"

"Speaking of that, I can get home as late as 1:00am without my dad being concerned, but spending the night isn't a good idea. Interested?"

"Absolutely!"

We finished our sundaes and then headed back into the city, where we fooled around for several hours, finishing, at Miranda's suggestion, with a tit fuck between her large, firm breasts.

"Kiss me before we get out of bed?" Miranda asked.

I rolled my eyes theatrically and bent down to kiss her, despite my cum being on her chin, lips, and nose, then we got out of bed and went to the shower.

"You're a good sport about that," Miranda said.

"As much as that isn't something I prefer to do, I figure it's the least I can do in exchange."

"So, a shower blowjob and a French kiss?" she smirked.

I laughed, "I should never have agreed to that in the first place!"

"If it really bothers you, it's not necessary."

"Which is also true about blowjobs or any other thing we do in bed or elsewhere."

"Is there anything you want to do we haven't done?" Miranda asked.

"No," I replied. "What about you?"

"No. Let me do this..."

She gave me an awesome blowjob and, as she'd implied, kissed me before swallowing. As much as I didn't prefer it, I'd become so used to it that it no longer bothered me. We finished our shower, dried off, dressed, then headed out to my car so I could drive her home to Naperville.

"I'm a 'motivated girl'," she said when I walked her to her door. "Ask me out again soon, OK?"

I recalled our discussion not long after we'd first met when she'd made the point about a motivated girl being willing to date non-exclusively during college, which generally matched my thinking, though I was carefully considering how to revise my thinking in light of my conversations with Bianca and others.

"Let me get settled in the new place," I replied. "But I'll see you Saturday for the housewarming, right?"

"Yes!"

We exchanged a kiss, and after she went inside, I headed home.

March 31, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"What's the scoop for today?" Bianca asked at breakfast.

"Continental Cablevision will install the cable TV hookup in the great room and basement. The appliances, furniture, and TV projector will be delivered this afternoon. We need to put down the butcher paper, so we should head over sometime this morning."

"We still need to christen some rooms before anyone moves in," Bianca exclaimed. "At least the three bedrooms and attic room."

"Well," I said, "in that case, we should go over this morning and take an air mattress with us."

"I think I'll stay home, then," Shelly said. "I don't think I could watch without being tempted to join in."

We finished breakfast, and after we cleaned up the kitchen, Bianca and I headed to the new house. We retrieved the rolls of butcher paper that Mr. Kind had brought with him and between us, rolled it out in the hallways and rooms to protect the floors while the appliances, furniture, and other items were delivered and the cable TV was installed. We also opened some windows to air out the house, though it wasn't warm enough to leave them open all day.

"Start by christening the attic room?" Bianca asked. "Then the other bedrooms. If you don't have plans for tonight, we could probably manage the rest of the house if we move between rooms before you cum."

"I didn't make plans for tonight because I wasn't sure what time the deliveries would arrive and wasn't sure if there might be some minor things to do before we move tomorrow."

"Cool!" Bianca exclaimed. "Sixty-nine and screw in each room, but you only cum once per two rooms, and we can finish!"

"What about the car and yard?"

"I think we'll wait until next week for those," Bianca said.

We began our tour in the attic room and continued in the other bedrooms, moving the air mattress each time. When we finished upstairs, we showered and then walked to a diner to have lunch.

"Perry and Shelly are officially a couple," Bianca said. "I suspect strongly she'll move out, as we discussed."

"That's not really a surprise," I said. "What's your plan? Or rather, who?"

"Juli, of course. She's happy to fuck you, too, obviously. I haven't spoken to Deanna and Keiko yet, but I'll do that tomorrow when I see them."

"Did you ask Juli?"

"I mentioned it was possible, and she said she'd be happy to move in. Have you come to any conclusions?"

I nodded, "As difficult as it is, I'm acknowledging to myself that Bev will always be special, and I'll always care for her, but at this point, it's irrational to think that things could simply go back to the way they were, and she would have no claim on me simply by showing up."

"That's a big, important change in your thinking."

I nodded, "But the only logical one. With that, I also acknowledge that my picture of the future was based on what I considered was an ideal future with Bev, and at this point, I'm not ruling out any possible future, including the ones you've suggested."

"You'll forgive me if I say that makes me happy!"

"No need to forgive. You're looking out for your best interests, just as I am. And you've proven to be my most valuable confidante."

"I think the main outstanding question is Violet."

"I think the best approach with her is to wait until she completes her counseling for her panic attack."

"How do you intend to do that?"

"I haven't quite figured that out. I may ask her counselor about it when I meet with her the Saturday after next. The challenge there is that even a kiss would be a commitment to Violet unless she expressly chose to reject the idea of a permanent relationship."

"Wait! Doesn't that go counter to what you just said?"

"No, because I said all possible futures were open, and I don't feel bound by what I said to Bev in the past. But think about the situation with Violet, given her history. If I start down the path of a physical relationship with her, it's a path with a single destination unless she decides she can't do that."

"So if she says she wants you, you're hers?"

"No, only that I would have to make that decision before the first kiss because I could hurt her very badly otherwise. But, in the interest of complete honesty, I don't see that happening. Every indication I have from Violet is that she won't be able to make a commitment to full intimacy, and as much as I care for her, I can't sign up for what amounts to a sexless marriage."

"So you're saying it's possible but not probable?"

"I'd actually go so far as to say it's highly improbable based on everything I know about her and how she's handled our relationship. While I disagreed with Doctor Lochner's approach, I think she was right that Violet may never be able to have a physically intimate relationship."

"Being locked in a cage while your parents raped your older sister with the strong implication you were next would mess up anyone."

"It would," I agreed.

We finished our meal, then headed back to the house to wait for the deliveries.

XXX. A New Home, Part II

March 31, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

The three deliveries and the cable TV install occupied the rest of the afternoon. Bianca and I finally left around 6:20pm and drove to the U-Haul rental agency. I signed for the truck, then drove it to the house, with Bianca following me in my car.

When we walked into the house, we found a note from Shelly saying she was out with Perry, and the answering machine was blinking. I played the messages, the first of which was from Kasia, calling to confirm a time for the move-out inspection. The second message was from Josie, who asked that I call if I wasn't busy.

"Go for it, if you want to," Bianca said

"We still have some rooms to christen."

"We can do them anytime, really. Nobody will object."

"Let me call Kasia first, then I'll call Josie. You're sure?"

Bianca smiled, "You know my advice!"

"A harem that we share!" I chuckled. "But there is one major flaw with your plan!"

"They don't all have to be willing, just some!" Bianca declared. "I know Keiko won't, but Deanna? She's an artist!"

I laughed, "Sophie and Ivy go to the same school and have never so much as kissed each other."

"They aren't artists."

"You're serious? That seems so stereotypical."

"Stereotypes are usually grounded in some truth," Bianca replied. "I'd say the odds are at least 50-50 that she'll go for it."

"Please be very careful," I said. "I'll be very unhappy if you mess things up."

"What do you like to say? That you aren't a complete idiot? Neither am I. I won't do anything foolish. Make your calls!"

I called Kasia, and we agreed to meet at 10:00am on Saturday. I reminded her she was welcome to join us for the housewarming. She said she'd stop by at some point, and after I ended the call, I dialed the number Josie had left.

"Hi!" she exclaimed. "How are things with the new house?"

"Good. Are you planning on coming to the housewarming party on Saturday?"

"Yes. Are you busy?"

"I have no plans."

"Interested in spending the night with a properly motivated girl with a tight cunny, a talented tongue, and who swallows?"

"Very! Would you like to spend the night?"

"Absolutely! I live in Evanston and can be there in about twenty minutes."

"Did you eat dinner?"

"No."

"OK. Bianca and I were going to order Chinese."

"That works! See you in twenty minutes."

We said 'goodbye', I flashed the switchhook, and called in an order to the local Chinese restaurant that delivered.

"Josie will be here in about twenty minutes, and I ordered enough food for the three of us."

"Another girl who's a foot shorter than you are."

I shrugged, "The parts still fit together properly! Keiko actually asked me about that, and I simply turned the question around."

"Between you and me, who's your favorite?" Bianca asked.

"Any answer to that question other than 'you' seems dangerous!"

"You know better than that! If push came to shove and you had to choose, who would it be? Keiko or Deanna? Or maybe Anna or Lily? I'm not including Violet because of what you said about her."

"See, the thing is, I don't have to choose right now! Which is a point I've made clear and which has actually caused some difficulty with girls who are looking for a steady boyfriend."

"Is there a specific reason you're taking Anna to Saint Martin rather than one of the other girls?"

"You?" I asked with a grin.

"I'd go in a heartbeat, of course."

"That's the same thing Deanna said, though she questioned if Anna might be some kind of honeypot trap."

"Based on?"

"Both Matheson and Spurgeon suggested I take her."

"Given everything you've said about that place, I could actually see them doing that, but from what you've said about Anna, that doesn't seem likely."

"Which is what I said to Deanna."

"I'm still a bit surprised you started seeing her despite being adamant about not doing that and after what happened with Haley."

"The situation with Haley isn't all that different from Teri or Phoebe, in that Haley wanted an exclusive relationship. The difference between the three girls is that Phoebe slept with me beforehand, Haley was waiting until we were a couple, and Teri insists on waiting until marriage. In other words, what happened with Haley had nothing to do with where she worked but that she wanted to be a couple immediately.

"As for Anna, I just can't see what Spurgeon and Matheson would gain by using her in that way. If I were married, or Anna was underage, then maybe I could see it. But what possible benefit could they gain from having Anna entice me into some kind of relationship? There's no upside for them, and a big downside if it turned out to be true and I discovered it. And it's not a question of loyalty because I'm loyal, and they know it."

"A reasonable point," Bianca agreed. "If there is no value to them, it doesn't make sense they would do it, though what about getting dirt on you? You know, she reports to them?"

"What dirt? I get laid a lot, but so do Matheson and Spurgeon, and I'm not cheating! Not to mention the fairly safe bet that the rumors about Spurgeon having a thing for fifteen-year-old girls while every girl I'm with is at least eighteen. Sure, in the past, there were seventeen-year-olds, but they were legal."

Of course, there was Jeri, who'd only been sixteen, but I was only nineteen at the time, and from everything I'd seen and heard, the government didn't care about that. They WOULD care about Spurgeon, in his forties, bedding fifteen-year-old girls. I didn't have a problem with it, except insofar as it put the firm at risk if he were ever arrested. Who he had sex with simply didn't matter to me, nor did their ages, so long as it was consensual.

"I'd say you're right that it wouldn't make any sense. I did get the impression you weren't as high on her as you had been."

"I think I was just trying to make sense of why she was pushing so hard on Bev, but I think I've figured it out. Anna sees the time we spend together as an investment for the future. It might not pay off, but if it did, then Bev would be a risk to the relationship. It would make perfect sense for Anna to decide to stop seeing me if Bev could simply waltz back into my life and displace my girlfriend or wife."

Bianca nodded, "I can see that."

The doorbell rang, and I went to answer it.

"Hi!" Josie exclaimed.

"Hi. Come in."

She entered carrying an overnight bag, then, and we hugged, and she gave me a quick peck.

"Do you need help moving tomorrow?" she asked.

"We're moving and cleaning this house, so I'll take all the help we can get. No church on Good Friday?"

"No. My mom goes to church, but my dad, my brother, and I don't."

"The food will be here in about fifteen minutes. Can I get you something to drink?"

"7-Up or Sprite, whichever you have."

"Both, actually," I replied.

"Then 7-Up."

I went to the kitchen and got a 7-Up for Josie, an Orange Crush for me, and a Pepsi for Bianca, which was her current favorite pop.

"What needs to be done here?" Josie asked.

"Once we move everything out, patch and paint the walls, then clean from top to bottom. We have until 10:00am on Saturday, which is when the landlord is coming to do the walkthrough inspection."

"Who is helping?" Josie asked.

"My friends Tom, Stuart, Dustin, and Archie, along with Keiko, Deanna, Kristy, Allyson, Lily, Violet, Ellie, Miranda, and, of course, Shelly and Bianca. The guys will move all the furniture."

"I'm happy to clean or paint," Josie said. "I'm too small to carry anything bulky or heavy!"

"Keiko basically said the same thing," I replied. "But there will be plenty to do, trust me. Stuart will have everything organized. We have a U-Haul, which is parked in the driveway, so that's set. We're meeting here at 6:00am to start loading the truck."

"Ugh! 6:00am!"

"It's not so bad if you stay over," Bianca interjected.

"OK, fine, but it's still 6:00am!" Josie protested.

"I'm allowing for all manner of contingencies," I said. "That gives us plenty of time for any problems or emergencies."

The doorbell rang, signifying our food had arrived, and after paying the teenage delivery boy, I brought the food to the kitchen, where we ate at the dinette table. When we finished eating, we disposed of the cartons, and then, at Josie's request, we went up to my room.

April 1, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Ugh," Josie groaned when the alarm rang at 5:30am.

"We have just enough time for a shower," I said, getting out of bed.

Josie groaned again, got up, and followed me into the bathroom. I turned on the tap, adjusted the temperature, then emptied my bladder into the toilet. Josie sat down and did the same, then we got into the shower under the warm spray.

"That was weird," she observed as we each used a bar of soap to lather ourselves.

"Right," I chuckled, "Taking a leak is 'weird' after several hours of sex last night."

Josie laughed softly, "I was going to say something about it being private, but I suppose it pales with having your dick in my tight cunny and your talented tongue in me after you've cum. Or for my talented tongue to coax cum from your dick and swallow it."

"Or kissing afterwards," I added. "Or any of the other stuff we did or could do."

"It's just I never peed in front of anyone, ever, before."

"And before a month ago, you hadn't had sex but lost your virginity with an audience!"

"Oh, stop!" Josie groused good-naturedly.

We took turns rinsing off, then got out of the shower, dried ourselves, and went to the bedroom to dress.

"Can I ask you a serious question?" Josie inquired.

"Yes," I replied.

"Is there a reason you didn't call me after I told you I was interested?"

"I take it you want a completely honest answer?"

Josie smiled as she hooked her bra and said, "Do you have any other kind?"

"Usually not!" I replied. "First and foremost, I mostly allow the girls to define the terms of our encounters. That goes back to how things were with my girlfriend in High School. She basically made all the decisions for us."

Well, right up until I'd decided to move to Chicago without even speaking to her about it.

"Second," I continued, "I'm basically playing the field, which I think we discussed."

"A polite way of saying that you're 'drowning in pussy', as Ellie described it."

"Ellie's not wrong, but it's also the case that I would, when the time is right, limit myself to one person for the rest of my life."

"I guess I'm confused because I said I was interested."

"I certainly wasn't trying to cut you out because you said that, but think about our encounters -- twice with the group last year, then about four weeks ago, you came to my door and asked to spend the night. Then you called tonight."

"So, how does a girl get more of your attention?"

"By asking," I replied. "But also understanding that I have other commitments, including class three nights a week and some social obligations. And knowing that at this moment, I'm not looking for a steady girlfriend."

"Well, as a girl who gave up her cherry with an audience and watched other girls give up their cherries and then had what amounts to group sex with you again, I don't think I have any misconceptions. And no conceptions, either!"

"That would be, let's call it 'inconvenient'."

"I'll say!' Josie exclaimed as she pulled on a pair of jeans. "So, given I'm interested and motivated, what's the correct strategy?"

"Patience," I replied. "And an understanding that I'll be seeing other girls, and I can't commit to any specific timeline. I also promise to be honest and forthright and let you know if I don't think we have a future together."

"Similar to what you did with Ellie?"

"I'm going to assume she shared with you that I said we don't click. That said, I promised to teach her about financial markets and recommended a degree in business or finance. On that topic, and a brief detour -- what's your major?"

"Officially undeclared, but I've decided on journalism."

"OK. Back on track, it's important to remember that I don't have double standards, and you can conduct your life however you best see fit with no judgment from me. "

"You mean sleep with other guys?"

"Or girls, if that's your thing."

Josie laughed softly, "I think I'll pass on that. The girls, I mean. And I haven't met another guy I'd do it with."

"That's your business. Shall we go downstairs? I need to get to Dunkin' Donuts and get breakfast and coffee for the gang."

Shelly and Bianca were both up, and I let them know Josie and I were headed to Dunkin' Donuts. Fifteen minutes later, we were back, and nearly everyone had arrived. The last to arrive was Tom, and once he'd grabbed his doughnut and coffee, I laid out the plans for the morning.

"We'll start with the furniture," I said. "Bianca, Shelly, and the girls will finish packing the few things that aren't already boxed, and once the truck is loaded, Stuart will explain to the girls about the painting prep, and they'll get started on that while we drive to the new house to unload the furniture. Once that's done, we'll go to Deanna's dorm to get her stuff, including her art supplies and studio items. Once those are at the house, we'll come back here for pizza.

"After pizza, we'll finish painting, then clean the house, top to bottom, including scrubbing the bathrooms, mopping the floors, and washing the windows. I expect to finish by 5:00pm, but if anyone needs to leave before then, that's not a problem. Dustin has to leave by 1:00pm for the rehearsal dinner for a wedding gig. Everyone is invited to the house tomorrow for a housewarming party, which will be basically an open house from noon until midnight. Any questions?"

There were none, and Tom, Stuart, Dustin, Archie, and I began loading the truck with furniture while Keiko, Deanna, Kristy, Josie, Allyson, Lily, Violet, Ellie, Miranda, Shelly, and Bianca packed the remaining items and moved boxes and smaller items to the great room to make it easier on the guys. When the truck was loaded, Stuart explained how everything should be taped and the outlet and switch covers removed. Once the girls got to work, the six of us left the old house. Deanna rode with me in the cab while the other guys piled into Stuart's Jeep Cherokee.

At the new house, we reversed the process, though I had to stop briefly to work with the Illinois Bell telephone installer to ensure the phones were properly connected. Given the number of people in the house, I'd ordered a second line, which would be the main house number, with the old number being my private line, as well as a third line for my computer modem or, eventually, a home fax machine. The kitchen phone would be two-button and access either regular line, but all other extensions, except the one in my room, would only be the common line, and the modem line was on a modular jack in my room.

When that was completed, and all the furniture was in place, and the boxes brought into the house, the six of us headed to Deanna's dorm to get her things, including her clothes, some personal items in her room, then everything from her cabinet in the studio -- paints, brushes, easels, paintings, drop cloths, and smocks. We made quick work and headed back to the new house, where we unloaded everything and carried it up to the attic room.

Once that was done, we headed back to the old house to have pizza, and Dustin, Archie, and Tom left while the rest of us continued painting and cleaning. By 4:30pm, everything was in great shape -- the walls were freshly painted, and the house was spic-and-span. I did a final walkthrough to ensure the house was ready for inspection and nothing had been forgotten. When that was completed, I announced we were done. Stuart took off then, saying he'd see us at the party.

Jack and Kristy planned to bring their things in the morning, and neither of them needed a truck, so I left to return it, with Bianca driving my car behind me so I had a ride to the new house. Keiko, Deanna, Ellie, Miranda, and Josie accompanied Shelly to the new house, Lily and Violet headed home, and Kristy and Allyson went to meet Jack at the Hancock Center so they could go to his house and pack his things.

"That went really smoothly," Bianca said once I'd returned the truck and was in my car.

"Thanks to Shelly's dad and Stuart," I replied. "Without their help, it would have been much more challenging."

"You do have one challenge," Bianca said with a sly smile. "Five girls who all want to spend the night with you!"

I chuckled, "I can think of far worse challenges to have!"

"I'd suggest playing games, but I'm not sure how Keiko would react. Everyone else has been in some kind of group thing with you."

"Keiko said that she feels it's a private thing," I replied. "So I'm not sure that will work. Changing topics, I'm helping her bring her things from the dorm in the morning, and after that, I'm meeting Kasia at the old house. Once we finish the walkthrough, I plan to go to Jewel to get the rest of the things we need for tomorrow, including ice, plus to stock the fridge for meals for the week."

"I'll come with you, if you want."

"The more the merrier. The car is big enough that you, Shelly, Deanna, and Keiko could all come to the store, and we'd still have plenty of room in the trunk for the groceries."

"Cool. I did have a chance to speak privately with both Deanna and Keiko, and we agreed we'd each reserve one night to sleep with you, if that's OK. Keiko would have Monday, Deanna would have Wednesday, and I'd have Thursday, but obviously, we'd all be flexible if stuff came up, and you're always free to change things if you need to. Also, Shelly confirmed what I suspected -- Perry asked her to move in with him once he starts his Residency, which is June 1st."

"How do you expect things to work once Juli moves in?"

"Your bed is big enough for three!"

"All I have to say is that I never imagined anything like this in my wildest dreams when I first moved to Chicago."

"Just think! You could have this for the rest of your life if you wanted! Deanna, Keiko, and me, and a steady stream of other girls who come and go!"

"And you'd have your girlfriend or girlfriends."

"Yes! Are you actually considering it?"

"I am, but the jury is still out. Let's just let things develop, please. You don't have to keep trying to close the deal. If you're going to get your way, it'll develop naturally."

"Sorry if it seems as if I'm pushing."

"It's OK," I replied. "But you've made your case, and it's a good one. It's just a matter of me deciding if it's the best one."

"Anna?"

"Maybe. My concern there is still that she works for Spurgeon, but I think the exception I made was a good one, given she's not part of the sexual playground and doesn't do drugs."

"I take it you and Teri are done?"

"I left it up to her if she wanted to continue to see me, but I doubt she does, given we have some seriously divergent views."

"As opposed to Keiko, Deanna, and me, right?"

"Yes. All three of you are basically on the same page, or at least adjacent pages in the same book. Teri is a completely different book."

"And Anna?"

"Closer to you, Keiko, and Deanna, but I doubt she's open to sharing once she decides it's time to be a couple, and I have one nagging thought that does give me pause."

"Besides her working at Spurgeon? You haven't said anything else."

"Just the way she talks about Sweden and the comparisons she makes. There's the tiny voice warning me she might decide to return home at some point."

"And that's not in the cards because you have to be in Chicago, right?"

"To work for Spurgeon, yes, but I could work in New York, London, or Singapore. Paris or Tokyo would be options, but they aren't centers for currency transactions the way New York, London, or Singapore are. Chicago has the advantage of the CBOT, CBOE, and CME, which are totally relevant to Matheson's area of concentration."

"If that concerns you, is there any point in pursuing her?"

"I see your point, but we're just dating, and her timeframe is at least five years, so there's plenty of time to gauge her thinking."

"Switching gears -- when do we take up the butcher paper?"

"Tomorrow, right before the party," I replied. "That's when we'll put down the area rugs. We'll have everyone take off their shoes when they're inside. That's something Anna said Swedes do to protect their floors, and it makes sense to me. It's also a Japanese custom, though they wear slippers, not just socks or stockings."

"We should get some kind of shoe rack," Bianca said. "That way, all of us have a place for our shoes when we come into the house."

"Good point, though there's the logistical problem of which door people use. If we drive, we'll use the back door, but coming from the L, bus, or Metra, we'd use the front door."

"Or walk around the side of the house, which I think we'd want to do if it's raining or snowing, so we don't track stuff in the front door. The back hallway has tile and will be much easier to clean."

"That makes sense. We should run over to Venture and see what they have. Let's get everything set at the house, get the Chinese food, eat, then run out."

"Sounds good."

At the house we found that nearly everything had been unpacked, and Shelly's dad, his friend Bob, and her brother Neil had delivered her bed and furniture, though I wondered how long she'd use it. With that delivered, the only real question was from Deanna about the placement of the four pieces of abstract art she'd created.

"I have zero clue about decorating," I said to her. "Bianca and Shelly helped me pick the area rugs and the furniture colors. I'd say just decide how you want them, and we'll put them up. And if you want to display more pieces, either temporarily or permanently, go for it. I have literally nothing for any walls in any room."

"We'll figure it out, then," she replied. "Maybe I'll show a piece I want to sell on an easel tomorrow."

"Jonathan Kane's Art Gallery at your service!" I said with a smile.

"One thing I need to get is a window fan so I can create a cross-draft in my studio to air it out."

"We can get one, or two, if that's better, at Venture. Bianca and I plan to go shopping for a few things we need for the house we didn't think of before."

"Such as?" Keiko asked.

"Shoe racks," I replied. "We're going to go with 'no shoes in the house'."

"We should get slippers, then," she replied. "They sell ones similar to what my grandfather has at Venture, JCPenney, or Sears, but they aren't Japanese. His are imported."

"I don't think we need imported ones," I replied.

"No, we don't. Do you mind if I put up some reprints of Japanese art?"

"Which ones?" Deanna asked.

"Certainly a print of «神奈川沖浪裏» (Kanagawa-oki Nami Ura), which is 'The Great Wave off Kanagawa' in English."

"What about 'The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife'?" Deanna asked with a smirk.

Keiko smiled, "For Jonathan's room?"

"What am I missing?" I asked.

"The print «蛸と海女» (Tako to Ama), or 'Octopuses and the Ama girl' or, as Deanna called, it 'The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife', shows an Ama girl, a shell diver, being pleasured by a pair of octopuses, one between her legs and one on her shoulder. You can imagine what the one between her legs is doing!"

"Interesting," I chuckled. "That's not considered pornographic?"

"It's erotic, and some people object, but it is very famous. There is writing on the print, and I bet Deanna knows it!"

Deanna smirked, "Deanna does!"

"Clue in the guy from rural Ohio, please."

"Let me get my art book and you can see the picture, and I'm sure Keiko can translate better than the book."

She hurried upstairs and came back down with a large book opened to the right page. I stared in amazement at the image of an octopus performing cunnilingus on a beautiful Japanese girl.

"Keiko?" I asked.

LARGE OCTOPUS: "My wish comes true at last, this day of days; finally, I have you in my grasp! Your 'bobo' is ripe and full, how wonderful! Superior to all others! To suck and suck and suck some more. After we do it masterfully, I'll guide you to the Dragon Palace of the Sea God and envelop you."

"The rest of that paragraph is sounds you can imagine are made during the act!"

I chuckled, "I might have some experience."

"There's more," Keiko said.

MAIDEN: "You hateful octopus! Your sucking at the mouth of my womb makes me gasp for breath! Aah! yes... it's...there!!! With the sucker, the sucker!! Inside, squiggle, squiggle, oooh! Oooh, good, oooh good! There, there! Theeeeere! Goood! Whew! Aah! Good, good, aaaaaaaaaah! Not yet! Until now it was me that men called an octopus! An octopus! Ooh! Whew! How are you able...!? Ooh!"

"Then there are sounds a girl who is having an orgasm would make."

"Unreal!" I replied. "More?"

"Yes!"

LARGE OCTOPUS: All eight limbs to intertwine with!! How do you like it this way? Ah, look! The inside has swollen, moistened by the warm waters of lust,"

"And more sounds from him. Then..."

MAIDEN: "Yes, it tingles now; soon there will be no sensation at all left in my hips. Ooooooh! Boundaries and borders gone! I've vanished....!!!!!!"

SMALL OCTOPUS: "After daddy finishes, I too want to rub and rub my suckers at the ridge of your furry place until you disappear, and then I'll suck some more."

"And then he makes sounds, I would say, like licking your lips for something yummy."

"That's wild!" Ellie exclaimed. "I think Jonathan should demonstrate for all of us later!"

"Sorry, but I don't have eight tentacles with which to pleasure you," I chuckled.

"Your tongue will do just fine! Give each girl an orgasm, move to the next one, and so on! Then get a blowjob from one before another round of pussy eating!"

"Shelly can't participate," I said. "She's seeing someone steady, and we have to allow for individual sensibilities."

I was thinking of Keiko, of course, as she was the lone girl who hadn't had sex in front of anyone else. She picked up on that right away.

"I know I'm the outlier," Keiko said. "Jonathan has to run errands, so I have time to think about it."

"No pressure, please," I said to the other girls.

"If I decide not to, I won't stand in the way of the others, but then I get to sleep with you."

"Let's worry about it after dinner and errands," I said. "I'm OK with hanging that picture anywhere. Nobody who will come to the house is going to be offended by it."

"Violet?" Bianca asked.

"Good point," I replied. "I should have considered that. Let me think about it, but no matter what, it'll certainly be OK to put it in my room, if you want. What else?"

"Probably at least three from Twenty Views of Tokyo or Twelve Scenes of Tokyo by «川瀬 巴水» (Kawase Hasui)."

"Here are some examples," Deanna said, flipping a page in her book.

"Those are cool. All walls are available, as I have nothing for them, and I'm happy to have you coördinate additional art with your work. Where will you get the Japanese art?"

"The Art Institute has a number of prints of Japanese woodblock art," Keiko said.

"We should go there tomorrow morning," Deanna said. "If that's OK with Jonathan."

"The only things that need to be done tomorrow morning after we get Keiko's things are shopping and then taking up the butcher paper. You should have time."

"Great!" Keiko replied.

The food I'd ordered earlier arrived, and we all ate, then Bianca, Ellie, Shelly, and I left to shop while Josie, Deanna, Keiko, and Miranda stayed at the house to hang the artwork Deanna had created.

"Sorry if I'm going to cramp your style," Shelly said as I pulled into the alley.

"You aren't," I replied. "I was acknowledging your relationship with Perry and wasn't sure if Ellie knew."

"I didn't," Ellie replied.

"I plan to introduce him to everyone at the party tomorrow," Shelly said. "Jonathan, he asked me to move in with him once he starts his Residency."

I knew, but there was no point in revealing that Bianca had already let me know.

"I'd never stand in your way," I replied. "It's that serious already?"

"We totally clicked when we first met, and given his insane schedule, the only way I'll ever see him is if we live together. It just feels right."

"Good for you! I hope it works out the way you want it to. Out of curiosity, what happens when he finishes his Residency?"

"He applies for an Attending job at a hospital. There are enough hospitals in Chicago that he should find a spot, but I'm not opposed to moving because I'll have finished my degree, and I can teach anywhere."

"A whirlwind romance!" Ellie declared.

"Not what I expected or planned," Shelly said. "But then again, I didn't plan on losing my virginity with an audience, then engaging in what amounted to performance art by showing off with Jonathan! Or getting involved with Bianca!"

"You're bi, and you're OK with just being with one guy?" Ellie asked.

"I'm not sure I'd say I was 'bi' in that I like guys and girls equally because I was never with anyone except Bianca and had no desire to be with anyone except Bianca. With her, it just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I don't regret it, but what I want is a traditional marriage to one guy, for life, with kids and grandkids."

"That's what most girls want," Ellie observed. "I think that's for me, too, though not until after I graduate from college. I'm having too much fun now to be tied down."

"I bet you'd like being tied down to a bed by Jonathan!" Bianca teased.

"Would you do that?" Ellie asked.

"Sure," Bianca replied. "I'll try just about anything that isn't extreme at least once, if my partner wants to experiment."

"Including in your butt?" Ellie asked.

"I'd try it if Jonathan was interested, but he's not, and I'm certainly not going to go out of my way for that!"

"Me, either," Ellie agreed.

"Or me," Shelly replied. I don't even want to experiment!"

"But being tied up?" Bianca asked.

Shelly shrugged, "It doesn't seem pleasurable to me. Obviously, you'd do it if Jonathan asked, but do you think you'd get off on it?"

"Maybe," Bianca replied. "It would be very interesting to tie him up!"

"Why?" Ellie asked. "He'll already do anything you ask any way you ask!"

"Good point," Bianca said with a soft laugh. "He is very accommodating."

"He's not a complete idiot," I said as I pulled into the parking lot for Venture. "Being accommodating has worked out very well for me!"

"No kidding!" Ellie exclaimed.

"Can you think of anything else we need right away?" I asked as we got out of the car.

"No," Bianca replied. "Just the stuff for tomorrow, but we're going grocery shopping in the morning."

We found what we were looking for at Venture -- two shoe racks, one for the foyer by the front door and one for the back hallway, along with two rubber mats to put under them to catch any drips. I also bought ten pairs of inexpensive slippers in two sizes -- the kind with the band of cloth around the top front of the foot but no sides, so they could be used by anyone. And we bought two adjustable window fans for the attic room, as Deanna had requested.

Back at home, the girls had hung the four paintings -- three in the living room and one in the dining room -- and set another painting on an easel in the living room.

"That looks good," I said.

"Thanks!" Deanna exclaimed.

"I'm going to my room," Shelly said. "You all have fun!"

"I'll go up to my room," Keiko said. "It's not a spectator sport! Jonathan, let me know when I can come to sleep with you, OK?"

"Yes."

She followed Shelly upstairs, leaving Bianca, Deanna, Ellie, Josie, and Miranda with me in the living room.

"Is everyone game?" Ellie asked.

There were nods of assent from the other girls.

"I do need to get some sleep," I said. "But I'm game."

"Let me suggest a modification, then," Deanna said. "Instead of multiple rounds, we each sixty-nine with him until he cums. We'll all get off on his tongue."

"He'll last longer after the first time," Bianca said, "so let me go first."

"Taking one for the team?" Ellie asked.

"We fucked in every bedroom and the basement earlier in the week!" Bianca smirked. "So it's not like I'm losing out! Let's go up to his room!"

The five girls and I trooped up the stairs and into the master bedroom, and everyone quickly stripped off their clothes.

"What order do we go in after Bianca?" Josie asked.

"Let's draw cards," Miranda suggested.

I got a deck of cards from my dresser and we went based on ranks and suits, and after Bianca, it would be Miranda, then Josie, followed by Ellie, with Deanna going last.

"If everyone is game, we should all get into the shower together afterwards!" Bianca suggested.

The other girls laughed, "Of course, the bisexual girl wants that!"

"Hey, everyone here is hot, so if you want to play while Jonathan is occupied, I'm game!"

The other girls shook their heads, which is what I would have expected.

"Ellie, can I suggest a variation?" Bianca asked.

"What?"

"That we can fuck him if we want, so long as he cums in our mouths."

"I'm OK with each girl doing her own thing," Ellie replied. "But yeah, he cums in your mouth."

"And then you kiss him!" Miranda said mischievously. "BEFORE you swallow!"

I couldn't help but laugh, then asked, "Why am I not surprised by that?"

"You only have yourself to blame for saying it was up to the girl!" Miranda declared mirthfully.

"One more challenge," Bianca smirked. "Jonathan doesn't wash between girls, and you have to kiss him first before you sixty-nine."

"Says the girl who is going first!" Miranda exclaimed.

"Hey, I'll taste it from the source if you let me!"

"Been there, done that!" Ellie said with a smirk. "But to echo Jonathan, it has to be up to each girl if she wants him to wash his face. I'll go for it, obviously."

"Also been there and done that," Deanna declared.

"It sounds weird, but I think I'll go for it," Josie said.

"Not me," Miranda said.

"Then I'll wash before your turn," I said.

"On the bed, on your back, Jonathan!" Ellie ordered.

I got into the bed and laid on my back.

"Bianca, go for it!" Ellie declared.

Bianca happily climbed into bed, straddled my face, and lowered her head to my crotch.

XXXI. Home Sweet Home

April 1, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

After Bianca, Miranda, Ellie, and Josie finished their tag-teaming, the five of us managed to crowd into the shower, much to Bianca's delight, though Miranda was distinctly uncomfortable. She didn't balk, but I could tell she didn't appreciate it. Once we had all rinsed off, we dried ourselves, the girls dressed, then we stripped the soiled sheets from the bed and put on fresh ones.

"I'll put these in the washer," Bianca said. "And let Keiko know you're all hers; well, what's left of you!"

The four girls left, and a minute later, Keiko appeared, closing the door after she came into the room.

"I hope they didn't wear you out," she said. "But if you just want to sleep, I understand."

"I saved some energy for you," I said. "What would you like to do?"

"Be on top and then fall asleep with you inside me."

I took her hand, and we got into bed. Thirty minutes later, after five orgasms, Keiko sighed deeply and stretched out on top of me.

April 2, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Are we moving everything?" I asked Keiko as we walked into the dorm at Loyola on Saturday morning.

"Yes. I don't see any point in maintaining the fiction that I have a dorm room. It's paid for, but there are only seven weeks of school left, and my dad has no problem with the situation, given how little I'll have to pay to live in your house."

"And Loyola doesn't care?"

"They have their money, so no, they don't. I'll simply go to the Registrar's office and change my residence address. Housing won't care, and I've already let them know I don't need a room next semester. I also don't receive any mail here, so I don't have to worry about that."

We made fairly quick work of moving her things, as she'd packed most everything earlier in the week, and it took only a single trip in my car, with everything easily fitting into the trunk. Once we had carried everything into the new house, Bianca, Shelly, and I went grocery shopping while Keiko unpacked her things and set up her room.

Once we'd completed our shopping, I dropped the girls at the new house, then headed to the old house to meet Kasia for the move-out inspection. I arrived a few minutes early and did a final walkthrough to check we hadn't left anything at all. Finding nothing, I waited in the foyer for Kasia to arrive, which she did promptly at 10:00am. I greeted her, and she did a complete walkthrough of the house, then checked the garage.

"Everything is fine," she said.

"How do you propose to quantify the 'damages' if anyone asks?"

"They won't, but cleaning fees and wear-and-tear on appliances would satisfy them. I'm going to replace the gas range, as you suggested, and that will cover a good portion of it."

"Is there anything else you need from me?" I asked.

Kasia laughed softly, "There are so many ways I could answer that!"

"And so many ways I could respond!"

"And if I wasn't meeting a guy for lunch, I might actually make one of those comments just to see how you responded."

"Goofily, of course! Or, frustratingly, if that would actually be more fun."

"That is totally you!"

"First date?"

"Third, actually. I met him about three weeks ago. But so far, all 'safe' dates, if you know what I mean."

"Meeting someplace like a restaurant or coffee shop and having your own transportation."

"Right the first time! Stay in touch, OK?"

"Sure. I enjoy your company."

We hugged, she gave me a signed document that indicated the 'damage' deduction, and I turned over all the keys. I walked her to her car, and we hugged again. I got in my car to drive to the new house to help set up for the party.

"Jonathan, this is CeCi!" Deanna said. "CeCi, Jonathan."

"Hi!" the tall, athletic blonde girl with sparkling blue eyes said. "Nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you as well. Welcome!"

"Thanks!"

"How long will you be in Chicago?"

"Until Thursday. I'm meeting with my counselor and some professors, setting up my schedule, and sitting in on classes. And with time to have fun and get into trouble!"

"I hope you'll excuse me. I need to check with Bianca about setting up for the housewarming party that begins in ninety minutes."

"I'm sure we'll have time to get better acquainted!" she said, flashing a smile.

I went to find Bianca, who was in the kitchen with Shelly, Keiko, and Kristy.

"All moved in?" I asked Kristy.

"Yes. Dad asked if it was OK to simply send you the check each month in interoffice mail."

"Fine with me," I said. "I do know where he works!"

Kristy laughed, "True!"

"Anything you need me to do?" I asked Bianca.

"You could get the grill ready."

"Will do!"

That took ten minutes, and I was back inside.

"Ready to go. It just needs to be lit when we're ready for the burgers and brats."

"Then I think that's it for now," Bianca said. "We'll put out the snacks right at noon."

The doorbell rang, so I went to answer it.

"You must be Jonathan," a good-looking, sandy-haired guy in his mid-twenties said. "I'm Perry Nielson."

"Nice to meet you!" I said.

I extended my hand, and we shook.

"I'm glad you could make it. Shelly is in the kitchen."

"I could make a smart-ass comment, but I'm not sure that's wise."

I chuckled, "'Where she should be'?"

"That's the one!"

"Congratulations on your assignment at Cook County."

"It's a blessing and a curse -- one of the busiest, most understaffed trauma centers in the country. But that means I'll see more cases and have more opportunities to do procedures than anywhere else. When I finish my Residency, I'll find a less insane hospital!"

"Baptism by fire?" I asked.

"Basically."

"Would you mind taking off your shoes? There are slippers if you prefer, but stocking feet are just fine."

"You do have gorgeous wood floors, from what I can see past the protective paper."

"We're taking that up shortly," I said.

He removed his shoes but didn't opt for slippers. I led him to the kitchen, where he and Shelly greeted each other, hugged, and exchanged a quick kiss.

"If you're willing to pitch in," I said. "We need to take up all the butcher paper that's protected the floors while we moved in."

"Glad to help!" he replied.

I enlisted Jack, Deanna, and CeCi to help as well, and between the four of us, we removed all the butcher paper, which had become dirty and scuffed, protecting the hard work we'd done earlier in the week. Not long after we finished, Allyson and Tim arrived, followed almost immediately by Sally and Will. They were the first wave, and over the course of the afternoon, nearly everyone I knew in Chicago, including my Uncle Alec and Aunt Wendy, stopped in at some point or another. Those who didn't show were people I had invited but hadn't expected -- Murray Matheson, Noel Spurgeon, and their dates.

I fired up the grill at about 2:00pm, and between Jack, Stuart, Costas, and me, we served dozens of hamburgers and brats. Beth, who was the last to arrive, appeared just before 4:00pm.

"Serious upgrade!" she declared when I gave her a quick tour. "It's too bad you aren't Jewish."

"Why?" I chuckled. "So we could marry and stop having sex?"

Beth laughed, "I did say that, didn't I?"

"You did! Not very good marketing! That said, given I'm «goy», you aren't interested in anything except friendship and a good «schtupp», the marketing you did do to the «mensch» was very good!"

"Nice oral technique!" Beth teased. "You've learned some new words!"

"I find it pays to learn as much as possible about as much as possible."

"An admirable attitude! Dinner in a few weeks?"

"Sure. Just call."

We rejoined the guests and spent time talking to as many of them as I could, but it was tough, given that over the course of the afternoon, seventy people showed up at the house, most of them staying for two or three hours, though some stayed the entire time, including Shelly's boyfriend, Perry, Violet, Lily, Allyson and Tim, Sally and Will, Miranda, Josie, Esme and Katy, and Ellie.

When the party finally wound down around midnight, several of the girls stayed to help clean up, and it didn't surprise me when both Josie and Miranda offered to spend the night.

Having made no promises to anyone, and with CeCi crashing on an air mattress in Deanna's room, the field was wide open, and I didn't feel compelled to decide.

"I don't want to have to choose, so if you two want to share..."

Both girls laughed.

"Not choosing works to your benefit," Josie exclaimed. "Miranda?"

"Share, but not do anything, right?"

"Right," Josie agreed. "I think we can make Jonathan happy without putting on a girl-on-girl exhibition!"

I was sure they could, and when we finished cleaning up, the three of us went up to my room.

April 3, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Sunday morning, we were up fairly early and ate breakfast. After we'd eaten, Miranda and Josie left to spend Easter Sunday with their families.

"Two candidates for your harem!" Bianca teased when I joined her in the front room with coffee.

"Yeah, yeah," I chuckled. "Where is everyone else?"

"Deanna and CeCi aren't up yet; Shelly went home with Perry; Keiko went to her parents' house; and Jack and Kristy went to his house. All of that was on the calendar in the kitchen."

"I saw you hung it to the left of the door as you walk in, but didn't look at it."

"What's your plan for today?"

"I'm surprised you don't know! I thought you had all the inside scoop!"

"What did I miss?" Bianca asked with a curious look.

"I have a date with Deanna and CeCi today."

Bianca smirked, "You do like leggy blondes!"

"And curvy «chicas» as well!"

Bianca smiled, "Esme?"

"You!"

"But you like Esme, too!"

"I do, but I prefer you to your cousin for a number of reasons! Not to mention, she has plans for the next four years that involve enjoying college a thousand miles away. When are you leaving today?"

"About 9:00am. I'll go to Mass with my extended family, and then we're going to our grandmother's house -- mine and Esme's shared grandparents."

I hadn't actually checked with any of my new housemates about their plans for the day, and it had worked fortuitously, so Deanna, CeCi, and I would have the house entirely to ourselves.

"Morning!" Deanna exclaimed, coming into the front room, followed by CeCi.

"Morning! We've already eaten, but I'm happy to make breakfast for you."

"Great!" Deanna exclaimed.

"Sausage, eggs, and toast? Or I can make pancakes or waffles."

"Sausage, eggs, and toast are fine," Deanna said.

The three of us went to the kitchen while Bianca went upstairs to shower.

"Where in Cincinnati do you live?" I asked CeCi.

"Now? Madeira. I was born and raised in Milford and lived close to Deanna and her family, but when my parents went to Guatemala on a mission trip, I moved in with my aunt and uncle."

"I'm curious, if you don't mind my asking, how they're OK with you missing Easter dinner."

"My family is part of the Religious Society of Friends, who you might know as Quakers. We don't celebrate any of the pagan holidays."

"Hang on!" I protested. "Christmas and Easter are Christian holidays."

"I can give you chapter and verse, but I'm positive you don't want to hear it!"

"I'm actually curious, from a purely educational point of view. You can tell me while I'm making breakfast, if you don't mind."

"Let's start simple -- Easter eggs and bunnies are not exactly Christian symbols! They're fertility symbols tied to the celebration of Spring. The same is true of Yule logs, hanging mistletoe, and Christmas trees. Basically, there is nothing in the Bible which supports celebrating any day other than the Sabbath. Some Friends don't even use names for days or months because they're derived from the pagan Roman Calendar."

"That's pretty hardcore," I said. "Where do you go to school?"

"Tri-County Christian Schools, a private non-denominational school."

"What do you plan to study at the Art Institute?"

"Film," CeCi replied. "I want to make movies. You're a stockbroker, right?"

"Right now, I'm an analyst, and I support our traders. I do have my licenses and trade a bit on my own and for a small group of friends. I hope to eventually move up to full-time trading."

"So in, say, five years, you could help me arrange funding for movies?"

"I have no idea how that works, but I could certainly find out by the time you graduate. What kind of movies do you want to make?"

"Eventually, I want to direct in Hollywood."

"What's the path from here to there?" I asked.

"A degree in film, which includes making short movies, then finding jobs on movie sets and working my way up while making my own shorts and writing screenplays."

"Have you shot any movies?"

"My grandfather gave me a Super 8mm camera, and I've filmed home movies and some things for film club at school."

"That's cool."

The food was ready, so I served the girls, poured them orange juice and coffee, then sat down with them. Bianca came in to say 'goodbye' and then left for Mass.

"Did you arrange for everyone to be out?" Deanna asked.

"No," I replied. "Everyone had plans either for Easter or the end of Spring Break."

"You're not religious at all, right?" CeCi asked.

"Correct. I've been in church three times in my life -- one funeral and two weddings. Did Deanna warn you I was blunt?"

"She did."

"I find organized religion to be nonsense."

"Me, too!" CeCi declared with a soft laugh. "Friends have very diverse beliefs, and we don't practice any rituals, nor do we have ministers the way you would find in a typical denomination. Basically, everything comes down to conscience and where the Holy Spirit leads us."

"So you can believe whatever you want?"

"Not quite, but Friends are not nearly as strict as any other group of which I'm aware. That said, I'm basically done with it."

"Why is that?"

"I'm too outspoken, and my chosen career isn't really compatible with the 'simplicity' doctrine. I've been questioning for a few years, and after some long talks with Deanna, I think she made the right choice. My only complaint is that I can't room with her in the dorm, which I believe is YOUR fault!"

"Guilty as charged, but I won't apologize."

"Sorry. I was teasing."

"He's yanking your chain!" Deanna declared. "He likes to mess with people almost as much as he likes to mess around!"

"Good thing, given that's why I'm here!"

"For me to mess with you?" I asked with a silly smile.

"To mess around with me!" CeCi corrected.

"You need to add 'doofus' or 'goofball' to that kind of comment," Deanna interjected.

The girls finished eating, and I rinsed the plates and put them into the dishwasher, something we hadn't had in the old house.

"We usually clean up right after meals," I said. "Let me quick wash the skillets, bowls, and utensils."

"I'll dry," Deanna offered.

We made quick work, then went to the front room, where I sat in an easy chair and the girls sat on the couch.

"Deanna said she told you what I wanted to do but that I needed to say it to you."

"Effective communication prevents misunderstandings," I replied. "And given what Deanna said, the last thing I want is a misunderstanding."

CeCi smiled, "I want to cast off the shackles of my past and forge a new future!"

"And did you have a plan for how to do that?"

CeCi got up, came over to me, sat in my lap, and put her lips close to my ear.

"I want to go to bed with you," she said quietly.

"Birth control?" I asked.

"I went on the Pill after my last talk with Deanna."

"Then shall we go upstairs?" I asked.

"Yes!"

She stood, and I took her hand. We began walking towards the stairs, with Deanna following behind. I was a bit surprised but didn't say anything, assuming the girls had discussed it. When we reached the top of the stairs and turned towards the master bedroom, Deanna pulled the rope to the attic stairs.

"I'll be in my room," Deanna said. "You two get acquainted!"

I led CeCi to my room, shut the door, and turned to face her.

"I'll do anything you want, any way you want," she said.

"It's actually about what you want," I countered. "With Deanna as your friend, I'm positive you have all the knowledge necessary to tell me what you want to do. No limits on my part, either."

"Are you sure about that?" CeCi asked with a sly smile.

I was positive about what she was referring to, as there was no doubt in my mind that Deanna had discussed the possibility with her.

"As I said to Deanna, I was willing to experiment if that's what she wanted to do. I guess the question is, how bad do you want to be?"

"Very!" CeCi declared. "As bad as possible!"

"At the risk of you changing your mind, you do realize you can be free without going to bed with me, right?"

"Is there something wrong?"

"No, not at all. This is just me making sure you've considered your options."

"Deanna did warn me you were very analytical and also very careful about girls not feeling pressured. I'm here because I want to be. Did Deanna influence me? Yes. But I'd already decided to make a clean break with my past. Honestly, I'm no longer interested in a simple life. I can see moderation, but there's no reason to deny oneself full enjoyment of life. Once I saw what you looked like, I told Deanna what I wanted."

"Saw what I looked like?"

"You didn't know she sketched you?"

"No, I didn't."

"Oops!"

"It doesn't bother me; I was just surprised. I only know she paints."

"You didn't see her sketchbooks when you helped her move?"

"No. I had no idea."

"She's an excellent sketch artist, but it doesn't fulfill her the way painting does. Her sketch of you was pretty much spot on."

"Just a portrait?"

CeCi laughed, "I think I'm in big trouble now."

"Why?"

"One of the important traits of Friends is always telling the truth, and I know from Deanna that's yours as well. So, to answer your question, two portraits, but two full-body sketches."

"And I'm going to guess from the circumspection, they're nudes."

"Let's just say I know what you look like, all over and in full glory."

"Meaning what I think that means?"

"I've seen what I'm about to experience."

"I think I might need to have words with Deanna!"

"Shoot," CeCi said ruefully.

"Remember what she said about teasing?" I asked. "That."

"Whew!" CeCi said, slowly letting out a long breath. "That's a relief."

"So, what did you have in mind?"

"Start slow and work up to the main event? Follow the bases, as it were?"

"That works for me."

"And once those firsts are out of the way, then we can be wild, if you want."

"It's about what you want," I replied. "Though I think it's only fair that I see you naked, given you've seen me!"

CeCi laughed and began undressing, not hesitating at all as she removed her sweater, blouse, jeans, socks, bra, and panties in that order, then stood in front of me in all her glory -- gorgeous, firm, round breasts capped with small pink nipples, a flat stomach, neatly trimmed pubic hair, plump labia, and long, muscular legs.

"You're gorgeous," I said. "Athlete?"

"Just intramural, but I take aerobics classes three times a week. And don't you have on too many clothes?"

I nodded, then quickly removed my rugby shirt, jeans, T-shirt, socks, and briefs, in that order.

"Deanna's drawings were accurate! Is that going to be a problem if we just make out for a bit?"

"No."

I held out my arms, and she stepped forward, her modest breasts pressing lightly against my chest and her stomach against my hardness.

"First kiss," she said.

I wrapped my arms around CeCi and pulled her tight against me. She turned up her face, and I touched my lips to hers, holding the kiss for several seconds before her lips parted, and I pressed my tongue into her mouth. CeCi wrapped her arms around me and ran her hands over my back as our tongues tangled, and I moved one hand to her tight butt.

We kissed for a few minutes, then I maneuvered us so I was sitting on the edge of the bed, and CeCi was sitting sideways in my lap. We resumed kissing, and I took advantage of the new position to cup CeCi's breast, gently rubbing her nipple with my thumb. CeCi also took advantage of sitting on my lap and moved her hand down to grasp my shaft and begin stroking.

I reciprocated by moving my hand from her breast between her legs and began gently massaging the flesh over her clit. CeCi moaned softly into my mouth, then broke the kiss.

"I need this in me," she whispered.

"Skip the intermediate steps?" I asked.

"Yes."

I reached over to the nightstand to my left and grabbed the bottle of baby oil.

"Spread this on me, then turn to face me with your legs around me.

CeCi nodded, took the bottle from me, squirted some oil into her palm, and handed it back. She grasped my shaft and coated it with baby oil from glans to root, then shifted to face me. She wrapped her legs around me, I put my hands under her butt, and lifted her up.

"Guide me in," I instructed.

CeCi put one hand on my shoulder, grasped my rock-hard member, and rubbed it along her labia, spreading them slightly and positioning me at the entrance to her tunnel. She looked deeply into my eyes, then relaxed completely, which I took as a sign to begin lowering her onto me. My glans passed through her plump labia, and CeCi blew out a long breath as my dick filled her no longer virgin pussy.

"Wow!" she gasped as her pubic hair meshed with mine.

"Yeah," I agreed, savoring the ripples of the silky warmth in which I was embedded.

We resumed kissing, and CeCi began flexing her hips, grinding against me. After a couple of minutes, she broke the kiss and put her head on my shoulder, breathing hard despite not moving energetically.

"Unreal," she whispered, then groaned deeply as her pussy spasmed, rippling along my shaft.

"You feel really good," I whispered back.

"How long can this go?"

"If we keep going slow, a long time," I replied.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Yeah."

Three minutes later, she had a second orgasm, which lasted longer and was stronger than the first.

"Whoa!" she gasped when it had passed. "That was intense."

A third and fourth followed fairly soon after, and CeCi was breathing hard.

"How do I make you feel good?" she asked.

"You are! But if you want me to cum, you can start moving up and down and back and forth and tightening your muscles."

She did as I'd suggested, and my pleasure increased until I felt the pressure of my impending release. It was inevitable, but I tightened my muscles and held my breath, prolonging my release. After about twenty seconds, the intense pleasure forced the issue, and I groaned loudly as cum blasted from my dick into CeCi's spasming pussy. She continued moving as I fired jet after jet deep inside her, prolonging her orgasm even after I was spent.

"Unreal," she breathed, resting against me and not moving. "Just unreal."

We stayed that way until I eventually softened, slipping from CeCi and releasing a gush of our joint juices.

"What next?" I asked.

"We skipped third base," CeCi said, her head still on my shoulder.

"Same time?"

"Oh yeah," she said, her voice dripping with desire.

She got up, I moved to the middle of the bed, on my back, and CeCi moved into the classic sixty-nine position, lowering her pussy to my mouth as she ran her tongue along my flaccid shaft. She licked me clean before taking my glans into her mouth and sucking gently as she teased it with the tip of her tongue. I lapped up CeCi's tangy, musky juices, then latched onto her clit and sucked and teased it with the tip of my tongue, causing her to moan softly.

It didn't take long before I was hard, and CeCi experimented, finally settling into what were the most common motions -- stroking me with one hand, cupping my sack with the other, and bobbing her head as she swirled her tongue and sucked. Having cum once already, I felt no urgency, so I focused on bringing CeCi off, which I did twice, before pushing my hips up to encourage her to move faster and take me deeper.

She took the hint, and after a minute, I felt the pressure begin to build. Once again, just before the pinnacle, I tensed my muscles and held my breath. Twenty seconds later, I groaned and came hard, shooting spurt after spurt of cum into CeCi's mouth. She continued bobbing, sucking, and licking until my orgasm had passed and then released me. I encouraged her to turn, helped her embed myself in her, then pulled her down for a fierce French kiss.

CeCi ground against me, and we kissed until she had another orgasm, after which she basically collapsed on top of me.

"So intense," she breathed. "So amazing."

We lay together for several minutes before I asked, "What next?"

"You on top," CeCi said.

"Start with sixty-nine until I'm hard?"

"Yeah," she breathed.

We kissed a bit, then returned to our sixty-nine position, but this time, when CeCi had made me hard, she lay on her back. I moved between her legs and pushed myself fully inside her. She wrapped her arms and legs around me, we kissed, then began the timeless motions of what might be called lovemaking, as it was slow and gentle. We moved together for close to twenty minutes, with CeCi having four orgasms before I pushed as deep into her as I could and had my release.

"How about a whirlpool?" I suggested.

"Yes," CeCi agreed.

I gently pulled out, then went to the bathroom to turn on the tap and adjust the water temperature. Once the water was running, I decided we should rinse off before getting into the tub, so I returned to the bedroom, took CeCi's hand, and led her to the shower. I turned on the water, adjusted the temp, and we moved under the spray.

"Everything you expected?" I asked.

"I'd say talking about it doesn't even scratch the surface compared to doing it!" she declared.

"I have to agree!"

After a quick rinse, we got into the whirlpool with CeCi reclining against my chest and my arms around her. When the tub was full, I turned off the tap and pressed the button to start the water jets.

"Lunch after this?" I asked.

"Sounds good," CeCi agreed.

"What do you want to do this afternoon?" I asked.

"More of the same, obviously!" CeCi exclaimed.

"Obviously!"

"You're willing to do what Dee described from the movie?"

"Yes. I take it she bought the necessary equipment?"

"She said she went to a store called The Pleasure Chest and bought it last week. You'll let me do that as well? I'll reciprocate."

"If that's what you want, yes."

"I said I'd do anything you want!"

"It's not a 'want' as much as it is agreeing to experiment with something Deanna wants to do."

"And that's really OK with you?"

"I've done some things that I'm not specifically thrilled about to make girls happy."

"Example?"

I chuckled, "Me and my big mouth!"

"Why?"

"The one that the girls really get off on is kissing me after oral sex without swallowing."

"And you're afraid I'd do that?"

"Let's just say I generally don't encourage it, but I have when I know it will get the girl off."

"What would get you off?"

"You and Deanna," I chuckled.

"A threesome?"

"Well, yes, but I meant watching you two."

"I said I'd do anything you wanted, so all you have to do is ask."

"Except it's not that simple because Deanna has to agree, too. And I'm fairly certain that's not her thing."

"Yes, but what you agreed to do isn't your thing, either, and yet..."

"Good point," I agreed. "But there can't be any pressure and no holding her request hostage to something like that."

"That seems to be really important for you."

"I'm going to assume Deanna explained about some of the stuff I've done, and I've felt nobody should feel compelled to do something that makes them uncomfortable or they feel is over the line. I'm fully behind anyone doing anything with anyone so long as everyone consents, and there is no compulsion."

"But didn't you make it contingent?" CeCi asked.

"Actually, no. Deanna said that if I let her do that to me, she'd let me do that to her. It was, if you will, an attempt at enticement, but it's not something I prefer doing, so it wasn't really an enticement so much as an offer to experiment the same way."

"You're saying you really don't want to."

"It's a bit more nuanced than that," I replied. "What I want to do is make Deanna feel good, and she thinks she'll get off on doing that to me. Not an orgasm, more like a mental high. I like to make girls happy, and that has absolutely worked to my advantage."

"So I hear! May I ask a question?"

"You may, and you don't need to ask if it's OK to ask. It's OK to ask anything, and I'll either answer or tell you why I can't answer."

"Deanna described your encounters as vigorous and athletic, yet you were totally gentle. Why?"

"It seemed to me that's what you wanted and needed. It's possible I was mistaken, but the clues were all there."

"How so?"

"The circumspect way you talked about sex, the gentle nature of the first kiss, tone of voice, body language, and your choice of vocabulary."

"My speech is informed by the way Friends are supposed to communicate with each other. Being soft-spoken and reserved and using simple, polite language are all expected."

"I'm sorry if I misread you."

"Actually, you read me perfectly! I assumed it would be like what Deanna said, but you surprised me by being very gentle. It was perfect. That said, I would like to experience what she called...actually, I've never said the word she used!"

"I believe I know what you mean without you saying it."

"I think I need to," she said, shifting so she could look at me. "After the whirlpool and lunch, I want you to fuck my brains out!"

"Your wish is my command!"

CeCi smirked, "While Deanna is doing you in the butt!"

I laughed, "Of course."

"And before we're done, I will kiss you with a mouth full of your cum!"

"As I said, me and my big mouth!"

"You have to work tomorrow, right?"

"Yes. I leave home around 6:30am, but I can get by with four hours of sleep."

"Are you free before I go home on Thursday?"

"I have class Monday and Wednesday night, but I don't have plans for Tuesday night."

"You do now! One more question. When I move to Chicago, can we keep doing this?"

"So long as I'm not in a committed relationship, yes."

CeCi turned, leaned against me, and sighed deeply. We sat quietly in the swirling water for another ten minutes, then got out of the tub. We dried off, dressed, and left my room. I called up to Deanna, saying we were going to have lunch, and she came down the stairs, smudges of paint on her hands and in her hair.

"A new creation?" I asked.

"I'll show you after lunch, if you want."

"What I want to see are your sketchbooks!"

"Sorry," CeCi said quickly. "I didn't realize he didn't know."

"I usually don't share them, and I should really have asked you if it was OK to sketch you, Jonathan."

"Don't worry about it," I said as we went downstairs. "You did them from memory, obviously."

"Yes, but I spend enough time with you, so I have a very good picture in my mind's eye."

"They prepared me for what I was going to see!" CeCi said.

"And?" Deanna asked with a silly smile.

"Sublime," CeCi said. "I asked if I could see him again, and we agreed on Tuesday. I also asked him about doing what you suggested."

"And?" Deanna asked with a hitch in her voice.

"He said yes. And then I asked him what his fantasy was. I said I'd do anything he asked, so I'm game."

"I can guess," Deanna smirked. "You and me, right?"

"Yes."

"May I make a modification?" I asked.

"Sure!" CeCi exclaimed. "What?"

"You each use Deanna's new toy in addition to oral."

"Whoa! So, like, we were having sex with a guy?"

"Yes."

"What do you say, Deanna?"

"That if my prediction for the future is correct, it's inevitable."

"May I ask?" I inquired.

"I'd say that the odds are that Bianca's idea is going to play out, and whoever wants to be your long-term partner would have a major advantage if they were willing to do that."

"Possibly. Experimenting once or twice is very different from doing something long-term," I said.

"Obviously," Deanna agreed. "But until you try it, you can't know, right?"

"I'd say that's generally true," I agreed. "Is that something you want to do?"

"Experiment? At this point, we've exhausted the usual possibilities, and the idea doesn't gross me out or anything, so, yes, I'm willing to experiment."

"So long as you're sure, then join us after lunch."

"May I make a suggestion?"

"Sure."

"You two do your thing for the rest of today, and CeCi, you sleep with Jonathan. On Tuesday night, when you've recovered from today, we'll each replicate the scene from the movie, though obviously you'll use the real thing on us! You fuck CeCi while I do you in the butt; you fuck me while CeCi does you in the butt; I fuck CeCi while you do me in the butt; and then CeCi fucks me while you do her in the butt. And then shower and sleep together. From a physiological standpoint, I think that makes the most sense. What do you two think?"

"I'd say that's the kind of over-the-top experience I was looking for," CeCi exclaimed happily.

I nodded, "And if that's what will make the two of you happy, then that's what we'll do."

I made lunch for the three of us -- ham and cheese sandwiches, vegetable soup, and chips, and the three of us sat down to eat.

"Now that Shelly is moving out, there's a spare room again, right?" Deanna asked. "Or there will be, anyway."

The original plan had been for a spare room, but then Shelly and Bianca had ended things, so they had separate rooms, with Shelly taking over the spare room. With her moving out, it was once again spare.

"Yes," I replied. "Shelly is moving in with Perry when he moves into a new place close to Cook County Hospital in June."

"Did you have plans for the room?"

"No," I replied, knowing what was going to come next.

"What do you think about CeCi moving in instead of living in the dorms? That would make up for me basically breaking my promise for her to room together, and it's a lot cheaper."

"I'm not opposed to the idea," I said. "I would want to run it by Bianca, but given what you said before, I think she'd jump at the idea if it makes you happy and leads to the outcome she's desired almost from the beginning of our relationship."

"And that confirms my thinking," Deanna said. "You're already treating her almost as a wife, though that'll never happen if I understand the situation."

"Why?" CeCi asked. "I mean, it sounds as if she'd want female lovers but would share with Jonathan. And you're the mistress type, so it would work for you, too."

"'Mistress type'?" Deanna asked.

"You'd be OK with a patron with whom you had sex and, at some point, had a kid together, even if he was married. What you really want out of life is to paint and not worry about anything else. Unless I miss my guess, you could have other lovers, too."

"Jonathan is no hypocrite," Deanna said. "But since I've been with him, I haven't been with any other guys. Obviously, I'm free to, but I just haven't had the desire. Zero drama, and it allows me to focus on school and painting."

"Which confirms that your desire is painting, not sex!" CeCi exclaimed. "Sure, you like sex, but if you had to choose between the two, I know which would win. You have the perfect scenario -- a guy with whom you like to have sex who allows you to decide when and doesn't pressure you. Or at least that's what you said."

"It's true," Deanna confirmed.

"No specific future is preordained or inevitable," I said. "I'm taking each day as it happens, and at some point, I'll know the right answer. I don't know it right now."

"Well, one thing is inevitable," CeCi smirked. "And that's you fucking my brains out as soon as we finish lunch!"

XXXII. Back to Work

April 3, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

After lunch, I'd fulfilled CeCi's request, and we lay cuddled together in the afterglow of great sex.

"I'm curious," CeCi said, "and this isn't an accusation, but is sleeping with you part of the arrangement to live here?"

"Jack would take serious offense at that idea because of Kristy, but even more so because of HIM!"

"OK, you don't swing AC/DC!" CeCi said with a laugh. "Good to know! But that's not what I meant! I didn't mean that you required girls to sleep with you! I want to know if I would have bed privileges with you?"

"Until such time as I decide what to do in the future, my bed is available to any girl who asks to whom I'm attracted and who isn't in a committed relationship."

Well, not Jeri, but that wasn't something I felt I needed to bring up.

"Is Bianca in charge of that?"

"Not in the sense that she has any say, but she did work out a basic schedule with Deanna and Keiko. Tuesdays are free."

"Mind answering a question?"

"As I said earlier, it's OK to ask anything, and I'll either answer or tell you why I can't answer."

"How many girls are regular or occasional bed partners?"

"I'd say twelve to fifteen, but it varies, as some of them are away at college."

"You're seriously considering the kind of relationship that was discussed before?"

"I'm not sure how I'd classify it other than to say I haven't foreclosed any possible future. I might end up in a traditional relationship, I might end up with what Bianca wants, or I could simply have what one friend calls a harem."

CeCi laughed again, "You mean like now?"

"It's one thing to be college-age and fool around as much as possible with as many girls as possible. It's another thing altogether to do that for life. And at some point, most people are going to pair off. Obviously, what Bianca is proposing is some kind of middle ground where I marry someone, and she and I have a kid together and still have sex. Of course, finding a girl who would accept that situation would be key."

"You could also split the difference," CeCi said. "Have a kid with Bianca before you marry, achieving most of what she wanted. She prefers girls, right?"

"I'm not quite sure how to describe it except to say she wants to have a kid with me and have sex with girls. Beyond that, you'd have to ask her. And on that topic, are you sure you want to experiment that way?"

"Who are you trying to protect? Dee? Me? You?"

"All of us," I replied. "I make zero moral judgments, but I also know it's not for everyone. I teased before about Jack, but that's a deep-seated thing with me. I have zero desire to experiment, and it's not open for discussion. I know girls who feel the same way about being with other girls. I also know that girls will do things they might not otherwise do because they think I want them to."

"Hang on! You said you would do things girls ask you to do that you don't want to do ."

"That's absolutely the case," I replied. "And I know my mind on the matter, and I've given it due consideration in what is my usual cold, calculating manner. Not everyone is able to analyze things dispassionately the way I do, and I don't want someone to do something in the heat of the moment that they would later regret."

"But isn't it possible someone would regret doing something even after they gave it careful consideration?"

"Yes, of course, but think about the difference from my perspective."

CeCi was quiet for a moment, "If it was in the heat of the moment, as you say, you'd feel responsible. If they had plenty of time to consider it, you wouldn't."

"Exactly right!"

"Then it's my turn to ask if you're really OK with what Deanna proposed."

"If I wasn't, I'd have said 'no'," I replied. "That was, by the way, my problem the first time a girl kissed me without swallowing -- she hadn't asked or even suggested she intended to do that. In addition to upsetting me emotionally, it upset my stomach, though I managed not to throw up. The same is true of the one girl I've had in the butt -- she didn't ask and surprised me by straddling me and putting it there instead of where I expected."

"Same girl or different girl?"

"Different girl."

"If either of them had asked or suggested it, what would you have said?"

"Initially? I'd have said 'no'. Whether or not I'd have reconsidered is an open question I can't answer for sure because it is, in effect, a hypothesis contrary to fact. If I was forced to speculate, I think, eventually, both likely would have happened. I'm not sure about the kissing without the girl swallowing, but doing it in the butt would certainly have been discussed after seeing it in the porn movies. I've only ever done that with one girl, and Deanna and I discussed it at length. You know the resolution."

"That she offered reciprocity if you let her do you. But as I see it, the only thing you get out of it is fulfilling Deanna's fantasy. I mean, you don't really want to put it in her butt or mine, right?"

"Right. But given I've done it before, and it's a special request, AND with you here giving it a totally different character, I'm willing."

"You mean watching me and Dee do it?"

"Yes. I know that's something Deanna has wondered about -- what it's like from a guy's perspective. And I'll be very curious to see how that works."

"Have you done anything else that might be considered extreme?"

"Earned my red wings," I replied.

"I have no clue what that means. I know all the so-called dirty words for sex; I just don't use them, well, not before today. I also know a bunch of euphemisms, obviously, but that one I don't know."

"Cunnilingus during the girls period, which results in menstrual blood on her thighs and the guy's cheeks, hence 'red wings'."

"That didn't gross you out? I mean, kissing without swallowing seems tame by comparison!"

"Think about it from a straight guy's perspective!"

"Got it! It's too much like you giving a blowjob."

"Yes, though given it's mine, it's different, but not, if you get my meaning."

"I do. And the red wings? I take it a girl requested that?"

"Yes. And then we had sex, and she sucked me afterwards. She really got off on it."

"I think that's one that I'm going to pass on!" CeCi declared.

"Which is exactly the point I've been making. I've had enough time to recover. What next?"

"Anything I want?"

"That was what I said."

"Slow, like the first time, but finish the way you and Deanna do, then French kiss me!"

I chuckled, "Your wish is my command."

We had a nice, slow, tender screw, and when I was close, I pulled out, moved up so CeCi could take me in her mouth, and after I came, I pulled out, leaned down, and gave her a deep French kiss, sharing my cum.

"Happy?" I asked with a smirk.

"Very!" CeCi declared. "Thank you."

We stayed in bed for the afternoon, then showered and joined Deanna for pizza she'd ordered. After we ate, CeCi and I went back to my bed, fooled around, and cuddled until it was time to go to sleep. We spooned together, with my arm around her, and fell asleep.

April 4, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Monday morning, CeCi and I were up early so I could get to work. We showered together, ate breakfast with Jack, and then Jack and I headed to the office.

"You have class today, right?" Jack asked as I backed out of the driveway into the alley.

"Yes. You'll need to take the L home on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. On Fridays, obviously, we'll be out together. Tuesdays will depend, but this week, I have a date with CeCi."

"OK. I'll just plan on the L four nights a week. Riding in with you gets me to my desk a bit early, but there's always plenty of work to do."

"That's for sure!"

"I heard from Phil you're getting a new IBM PC to replace your Apple II."

"Yes, because of the Nexis software we're testing. It'll replace the Apple and my IBM mainframe terminal and work as a Nexis terminal. Basically, one unit instead of three. It'll arrive tomorrow, and Phil and his team will transfer all my data and spreadsheets to the IBM PC."

"What happens to the Apple II?"

"It's going to Eric Thiele's new analyst whenever he's hired."

"I'm struggling a bit with the spreadsheets."

"Ask Bianca or Juliette for help," I replied. "They're both computer science majors, and Bianca helped me tremendously."

"I'll do that!"

I turned onto Lake Shore Drive and popped in a tape Allyson had given me on Friday.

There's a road I'd like to tell you about, lives in my hometown

Lake Shore Drive, the road is called, and it'll take you up or down

From rags on up to riches, fifteen minutes you can fly

Pretty blue lights along the way help you right on by

And the blue lights shining with a heavenly grace help you right on by

And there ain't no road just like it anywhere I found

Running south on Lake Shore Drive heading into town

Just slippin' on by on LSD, Friday night trouble bound

"It's not Friday," Jack observed. "But great song!"

"And the only one I know by Aliotta Haynes Jeremiah," I said. "The tape is of the album Lake Shore Drive, but I've never heard the other seven songs. I'll leave it in."

As we listened, I thought about the previous twenty-four hours and realized I had developed some kind of connection to CeCi in the short time we'd been together. I found that strange, but, at least for the time being, she was going to be in Ohio. Well, after our planned Tuesday night romp with Deanna.

I hadn't had a chance to discuss with Bianca about CeCi moving in, but I couldn't imagine Bianca would object. Not having the spare room wasn't really a big deal, as once Shelly and Bianca had ended their relationship, I'd allocated it to Shelly. The only real concern would be Keiko's reaction, but she'd given every indication that she was, in effect, waiting me out, believing that eventually, I'd decide on a monogamous long-term relationship and that my strong preference for Oriental girls would cause me to choose her.

What I'd discussed with CeCi was absolutely the case for the short term -- basically no-strings-attached sex with many girls, though eventually all of them would, in all likelihood, pair off much as Shelly and Kristy had done with Perry and Jack. That said, I tended to agree with CeCi's assessment about Deanna not marrying. That, combined with what Bianca wanted, led to all manner of possible futures.

But all of that was for later. As I pulled into the parking garage, I shifted my focus to work, as I had been away for a week. We had new team members starting today -- two portfolio managers, an assistant trader, and a second overnight trader, who would actually work from 5:00pm until 2:00am, an hour after Rich began his day. That would give us true twenty-four-hour coverage for global markets. The FX desk would have a total of fifteen staff, including analysts and secretaries, just in time for the capital raise.

The only downside of new people coming on board was the dilution of the bonus pool, but unless Spurgeon and Matheson failed in their plans, in the end, it would pay off with more business, which would offset the new staff. In addition, the new structure added another possible promotion level -- portfolio manager, which was between assistant and full trader. Assistants never spoke to clients, while portfolio managers would. The FX Desk was the only team with portfolio managers and was now more than double the size of the next largest team.

At the Hancock Center, Jack headed for the freight elevator, and even though I could ride with him, that would be frowned upon by Mr. Spurgeon. While the chances of being seen were small, I took the passenger elevator to be completely safe.

"Morning!" Rich called out when I walked into the office. "How's the new house?"

"Everything's good, and we're all moved in. How were things last week?"

"Fairly quiet. Murray was out with Mr. Spurgeon on the cap raise. Forty-three million in commitments so far out of sixty targeted. We onboarded those two new clients for Monroe and one for Foulks, totaling close to forty million. We're almost at the goal of $800,000,000 in outside assets under management."

"Great stuff! I'm going to put on a pot of coffee and get started on my report. I have a week's news to digest!"

I started the coffee and went to my desk, noting that all the new equipment was on the new desks and in the new offices. Tony and Joel arrived a few minutes later. They greeted me, but I was already up to my eyeballs, so I didn't have time for the usual chit-chat, though I promised we'd catch up after we had turned in our reports. I finished mine with just seconds to spare, leaving it on Mr. Matheson's desk just as he walked into his office.

"Cutting it close, Kane!" he declared.

"And even with a week of data to review, I did get it in on time."

"You all set in your new house?"

"I am."

"No more time off until you take your Sensitive Leave and use the house in Saint Martin, right?"

"That's right. Congratulations on the capital raise."

"Thanks. It's going gangbusters, and we'll beat the target. Noel thinks we can have $4 billion under management at the firm within the next two years and five billion in less than five, not counting gains in that period."

"I'll do my part, but I have a lot to learn."

"You have good instincts, you're a good analyst, and you've made some good, gutsy calls. Keep it up, and you'll continue to move up quickly."

Unsaid, of course, was screw up and be out on my butt.

"That is my intent," I replied. "Anything you need?"

"An update of your currency and precious metals analysis. It's a week out of date!"

"I'll update that this morning."

"Also, see Thiele. He's hiring a new analyst and wants you to interview candidates."

"I'll see him after lunch if that's OK."

"It is."

"Then I'll get to it."

The morning was very busy, as I had a week's worth of data to enter into my spreadsheets and information to digest, but I handed Mr. Matheson the revised report just before lunch. We had a catered lunch so that everyone could meet the new team members -- Mark Sampson, an overnight trader; Larry Howell, an assistant broker; and Walter Dawson and Charlie Duncan, the new portfolio managers.

The downside was that I had to skip going to the gym, but missing one day wasn't a serious problem, and I'd been plenty active the previous week with all the work we'd done on the two houses as well as moving. When we finished lunch, I headed upstairs to speak with Eric Thiele. The conversation was quick, and he let me know his secretary, Debbie, would coördinate times with me the following week.

When I left his office, I had to walk past Mr. Enderlee's office, where Sharon got up and stepped in front of me.

"You've changed your mind about girls who work here," she said. "Haley, and now Anna. Debbie, Lydia, and I all want our turns!"

I should have expected the request, but I hadn't and hadn't figured out a response in advance. I had to be very careful what I said, as I didn't want to cause trouble, but I also had no interest in becoming involved with any other girls at Spurgeon. I'd made the exception for Haley and Anna, though, with Haley, she was planning to leave, so that was different. Anna, as far as I was aware, had no intention of leaving, which meant I had to deal with it.

"I'm extremely busy for the next two months because I have class three nights a week and other commitments," I said.

"There's always lunch!" Sharon said. "Remember, Enderlee has a condo in the building."

"I go to the gym three days a week," I said.

"So the other two are free! And I'm sure Friday or Saturday nights are free!"

"I don't want to upset Anna," I said, hoping that would work.

"Oh, please! Everyone knows how things work here! And now you're with the program, too!"

I wasn't, but unfortunately, my actions had sent the wrong message, and I knew the girls wouldn't give up easily.

"Not really," I replied.

"Actions speak louder than words!"

"And both can be misinterpreted," I replied. "I have work to do, so if you'll excuse me."

I didn't wait for her to respond but walked directly to the elevator, not making eye contact with either Debbie or Lydia. I'd worried about this turn of events, and now it had come to pass. The question was, what, if anything, should I do about it? My first take was to simply do nothing and rebuff any future attempts. I also had to consider how it might affect Anna because I was certain nothing the secretaries could do would have any real impact on my situation.

Unfortunately, I didn't have a chance to speak with Anna as we were both very busy all afternoon, and she stayed late at Monroe's request to help him with a new client, so I couldn't speak with her on the way out. I made my way to my car, then drove to University Village to have dinner with Violet and go to class.

Nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and I'd seen Violet several times during the previous week, so there was no need to catch up with her. After class and our usual pie and coffee, I headed home, where I now had seven housemates rather than two, though Shelly would be moving out soon and might be replaced by CeCi. Once I'd changed out of my suit into comfortable clothes, I asked Bianca to join me in the front room, as everyone else was watching TV in the great room.

"What's up?" Bianca asked.

"CeCi asked if we'd be OK if she rented the bedroom that will be empty once Shelly moves in with Perry."

Bianca smirked, "And all you had to do was wave your magic wand!"

I chuckled, "She did ask if sleeping together was part of the arrangement."

"I told you we could charge and make a fortune!"

"That's how I took it, too, but she meant it as having bed privileges."

"She wants to keep sleeping with you?" Bianca asked with a smirk. "Why am I not surprised?"

"I said I would check with you, and Deanna pointed out that I treat you as if you were my wife."

"She's not the only one who's noticed! Shelly said the same thing."

"We'll worry about the long-term configuration in a few years," I said with a smile. "I'm inclined to say 'yes' to CeCi."

"Tall, blonde, leggy, and totally yummy!" Bianca said with a wink. "Yes, please!"

I chuckled, "Another artist who should fit into the stereotype?"

"Ask Sophie and Ivy! They said most of the guys there are gay, though some are bi."

"I'm not exactly the most worldly person, but I'm fairly certain Sophia, Ivy, Deanna, and CeCi are girls."

"Obviously, you nut! But artists are also known for their libertine ways. What's she planning to study?"

"Film. She wants to direct in Hollywood."

"So she just needs a warm bed and good sex for four or five years, and then she's gone?"

"That would appear to be her plan. I'm not sure how that will work out, as I suspect budding directors have the same, if not bigger, challenges than budding actors and actresses."

"I always wondered why we don't say 'directress' or maybe 'directrix' when we say 'actress' and 'stewardess' and so on."

"Beats me! What do you think about CeCi?"

"It's your house, Jonathan. Yes, I know you've said it's mine, too, which was true when we rented, but this is literally and legally yours."

"And yet, of all the people who'll live here, you're the one I'd ask about any significant changes."

"Not Jack?"

"At some point, Jack and Kristy will marry and get their own place. I'd guess three or four years from now when he's moved up, and she's in law school. While I can't predict the future, I have a distinct feeling you'll be much closer than Jack, even though he's likely to be my best friend."

"I do things for you, Jack would never do!"

I chuckled, "True, but that's not the basis of our relationship, and you know it!"

"I do. I'm OK with CeCi moving in. Do I need to add her to the schedule?"

"Tuesdays," I chuckled. "Starting in August."

"Leaving you Friday, Saturday, and Sunday for all your other girls!"

"Speaking of which, something that was probably inevitable happened today."

"What's that?"

"One of the secretaries at work approached me and said she, and others, wanted their 'turn' and that I had no valid objections because I made exceptions for Haley and Anna. I declined, of course."

"Nothing bad can happen, right?"

"I can't imagine what, given my position. But there's also no way to make them stop because complaining will fall on deaf ears."

"Even if you went to the Personnel lady?"

"Given it's not just condoned by Mr. Spurgeon but expected, I can't see what she could do. In the end, it's an annoyance that I wanted to avoid."

"You are kind of trapped, aren't you? I mean, nothing you can do would change the fact that you'd made the exceptions."

"Exactly. Even breaking up with Anna, which I do not intend to do, wouldn't deter them. I'll mention it to Anna tomorrow when we have lunch together just so she knows, but I have a sneaking suspicion she's aware."

"Who wins the lottery for Friday night?"

"I asked Josie," I replied. "I want to mix it up so nobody gets the wrong idea. Keiko will be the following Friday, and she and I have a date set for Saturday night."

"I get the impression Deanna is happy with painting and fucking, and doesn't care much about dating."

"Spot on. But she also works weekends and some evenings. Fortunately, the L is convenient for her. She could walk from the dorm."

"If you didn't charge her rent, would she have to work?"

"Yes, because her family wasn't able to contribute anything towards her tuition or room and board. She has a full-ride scholarship, which provides either room and board or a stipend, but it's not enough to cover her supplies, materials, food, and so on. Shall we join the gang?"

We left the front room and went to watch the 10:00pm news, after which Keiko and I went up to bed.

April 5, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"CeCi will probably move into Shelly's old room in August," I said as Keiko and I showered on Tuesday morning.

"Deanna mentioned that to me last evening. Another girl for your stable?"

"Does that bother you?" I asked.

"Does it matter?" Keiko asked.

"Actually, it does. I'd like to hear your thinking."

"I knew what I was signing up for when I came to you that first night. Did I decide I want more? Yes, of course. But I'm patient, and I don't think we should make a lifetime commitment at age twenty. I figure about the time I graduate, we'll be ready to make that decision, and all things being equal, you prefer short, sexy Japanese girls to tall, blonde, athletic girls!"

"Perhaps," I replied.

"There's no 'perhaps' about it! I know your preferences, and it's not tall blondes with big tits!"

"The size and shape of that specific body part isn't all that important," I replied.

"No, you like smart girls. Every single girl in this house is of above-average intelligence, including the girl pretending to be the disaffected, anti-social, starving artist! Of course, it's also the case that every girl in the house is above average in looks, with Shelly being the prettiest."

"I agree she's pretty, but you're right about my preferences for Asian girls."

"Your Indian friend, right?"

"Yes, though she's simply a friend in the conventional sense of that word."

"I want to ask an important question, though I know you may not know the answer. Do you still plan on a traditional monogamous marriage?"

"I think the best answer is that I am not foreclosing any possibilities, though I think that's the most likely outcome. I'm guessing you wouldn't be cool with any other situation?"

Keiko smiled, "I think the best answer is that I am not foreclosing any possibilities, but that's the most likely outcome."

I chuckled, "Touché. You know what Bianca wants, right?"

"You mean to have a kid with you? Yes. I don't have a problem with that idea, though I'm not sure I'd be comfortable sharing my husband with another woman in some kind of permanent relationship. I think, and this is just me thinking out loud, the best way for that would be for her to be pregnant before we married if that's where you and I end up. That way, it fulfills each of our most important requirements."

"From that, I deduce that even though you're not ruling out some kind of non-traditional configuration, it's highly unlikely."

"I'd say that's right. I'm not formally saying 'no', but you shouldn't count on me saying 'yes'. I think that's basically what you've said to Bianca -- you aren't saying 'no', but she shouldn't count on you saying 'yes'."

"I'd agree that's the gist, though my inclinations against what she's suggesting aren't as strong as yours against it."

"The fact that we could have this conversation openly is a positive sign," Keiko said. "As was the way you treated my grandfather with proper respect and deference and ignored my mother's attempts to bait you."

"That was out of respect for your grandfather. I've taken the bait in other instances to set someone straight."

"As I said, a good sign! He really likes you and would like to have us visit again."

"Gee, I wonder if he has any ulterior motives," I said as we got out of the shower and began to dry ourselves.

"Of course he does! A successful young man with integrity who understands the need to honor the traditions of his hosts is his idea of the perfect man. That said, you do need to mend your relationship with your grandparents, or my grandfather's opinion might change."

"And would that change your opinion?"

"No, but it would make things uncomfortable. One important Japanese value is honoring our ancestors, both living and dead. I believe in honor, duty, and respect, and that means taking seriously any opinions or advice he might offer. That's not to say I follow it blindly, only that it would be a consideration. I daresay you treat your mom the same way, and if she had a serious objection to a girl, you'd at least consider her opinion and advice."

"I can't say you're wrong because you aren't," I allowed. "I just don't know that I have the will or energy to deal with them, given what happened in the past."

"I'm absolutely not giving you an ultimatum, and I never would because it would be counter-productive, but would you do it for me?"

"Well," I said as we moved to the bedroom to dress, "if I were to say 'no', that would pretty much be the end, wouldn't it? I mean, if I wouldn't be willing to make the attempt based on your request, that sends a strong message that I don't think you're important enough to make the effort."

"I think that's a good analysis," Keiko said with a smile. "That is your strength. Well, that and being a very attentive and considerate lover!"

"I do my best!"

"Yes, you do!"

We finished dressing, then went downstairs to have breakfast with Jack. After breakfast, Jack and I headed to work while Keiko went up to my room to use the computer. It was very convenient to have four cars in the house -- mine, Bianca's, Kristy's, and Keiko's, which made it easy for the girls to get to school, either riding together if their classes aligned or separately if they didn't.

As usual, I greeted Rich, spoke briefly to him, then made a pot of coffee before starting on my morning analyst report. Once I'd completed it, I called Phil to let him know he could come get my Apple II so that they could convert my spreadsheets to the IBM PC. That would take them most of the day, but I could work around it by making notes on a notepad, which I could then type into the new computer. About an hour later, Anna joined me for lunch in the break room.

"Sharon propositioned me yesterday," I said. "I turned her down."

"I'm not surprised, and I guess it's partly my fault."

"You mean convincing me to make an exception? That's on me, not you! That was my rule, not yours. I don't think they can cause me any real trouble; I just wanted you to know."

"They're all...what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Catty?" I asked with a smile.

"Yes. Cats are both the positive and negative with regard to women in the US!"

I chuckled, "Cute. Is the slang word related to cats in Swedish? I've heard it is in French."

"In French it's «minou», which is a small cat, but in Swedish, it's «mus», which means mouse. The truly offensive word is «fitta», but nobody knows for sure the origin of that word. It's Old Norse, for sure, but there are disputes about the original meaning. None of them are related to animals, in any event. To me, the most likely is either «fit», which is a damp grassland, or «fitje» which is a rift in a rock."

"Both of those make sense as euphemisms."

"Don't worry about the girls," Anna said. "I can deal with them. Your new house is very nice."

"Thanks! Would you like to go out on Sunday?"

"I would!"

We finished our lunch and went back to work. Late in the afternoon, Phil and Greg came to take away my IBM terminal and install the IBM PC/XT in its place. While they were working, the phone rang, so I stepped to the side of the desk to answer it.

"FX Desk, Kane."

"Jonathan, it's Nelson. I have the transcripts from the court."

"And?"

"A portion of it is redacted under seal, which is normal in the case of minors, but it's clear that Mrs. Clemmons cut a deal with the prosecutors that if her husband's sentence was upheld on appeal or time ran out to appeal, she would serve only seven years, then be on what's called 'mandatory supervised release' which is a very restrictive form of parole. She has to check in with her parole officer each morning, needs permission to go anywhere except a designated grocery store and church, cannot apply for or hold a passport, cannot leave the county without permission from the court, and has to report every single person she comes in contact with beyond clerks in the designated store."

"That's harsh, though I suppose it's far better than being in prison."

"You got that right! She also cannot have any contact with her daughters unless they initiate communication and it's approved by the parole officer. Based on this, I'd say Violet has nothing to worry about. If her mom so much as says 'hello' to her or sends her a birthday card, it would be a violation, and violations of mandatory supervised release are punished by sending the individual back to prison to complete their full sentence."

"So, twenty years?"

"To life. She'd have to go through a normal parole board, and I suspect she'd have a difficult time there, both because of the nature of the offense and a violation of the terms of her release. Not to mention Violet would have a chance to testify."

"Why not this time?"

"Part of the deal. They really wanted to make sure they put Mr. Clemmons in prison. There are hints in the transcript that Mrs. Clemmons claimed mental and physical abuse, which would lend weight to her chances of making a deal. This is fairly common, and women usually turn on their husbands in cases such as this and get a lighter sentence for doing so. As I said, though, Violet has nothing at all to worry about."

"Good. Thanks, Nelson. You can just file those papers. I don't need to see them at this point, and I don't think Violet should see them."

"You're absolutely right because they detail the abuse, and it's disgusting, as you can imagine. I skipped over most of it because it turned my stomach."

"I appreciate your help, and I definitely don't want to see that. Thanks."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up. About ten minutes later, Phil asked me to check out the new spreadsheet program. I tested everything and ran some reports, and everything worked. I also tested WordPerfect, the text editor, which Phil called a 'word processor'. It allowed me to format my text in ways the old text editor on the Apple II did not, and that was a very useful feature.

Once I'd verified my spreadsheets and word processor, he had me sign on to the IBM mainframe using a DOS program that emulated the IBM terminal I had been using. That worked just fine, though there were some minor keyboard differences to take into account. After about forty minutes, I felt everything was working fine and said that to Phil.

"If you have any problems or concerns, just call either Greg or me," he said. "Also, Eric Thiele said he'd like you to show his new analysts how to use your spreadsheets once they're hired."

"He mentioned that yesterday. Thanks much!"

They left, and I quickly entered my handwritten notes into WordPerfect. At the end of the day, I left the office and met Jack at my car so we could ride home together. We chatted about work, and when we arrived home, I went up to my room to change into sweats and a rugby shirt, then joined Bianca and Shelly in the kitchen.

"Need help?" I asked.

"We're almost done," Bianca said. "We're having chimichangas, which is Tex-Mex, not specifically Mexican."

"I remember from history that Texas was part of Mexico, along with most of the West."

"I have distant relatives in Colorado who began raising cattle there when it was still part of Spain, as the province of Santa Fe de Nuevo México. That makes all of you Europeans immigrants in her mind!"

I laughed, "An interesting perspective. Is the table set?"

"Yes. You could find out what everyone wants to drink and get that, and in five minutes, we'll have dinner on the table."

"Will do," I replied.

I took care of that, and dinner was on the table, as Bianca had promised. Bianca, Shelly, Jack, Kristy, Keiko, Deanna, CeCi, and I all sat down to eat.

"It's a good thing you decided on the table that seats ten," Kristy observed as we began eating.

"I was positive we'd be entertaining, and given there are eight of us living here, it seemed silly to get a table that only seated eight. I was surprised that the chairs are the most expensive part, not the table, but I realize that's how they can make more profit."

"Always analytical!" Jack observed.

"Always!" I agreed. "And Bianca, this is awesome, as always!"

"I agree!" Deanna declared. "Do you guys eat like this all the time?"

"We do," Bianca said. "Though Fridays and Saturdays we usually have things going on, and those are almost always 'fend for yourself'. Make sure you check the calendar in the kitchen, and if you have something regular, make sure you write it in. When do you work?"

"Some Friday evenings, every Saturday afternoon, most Saturday evenings, and most Sunday afternoons. Occasionally, I'll pick up a midweek shift if one of the other girls is off, and occasionally I won't have a shift assigned. But I know a week in advance."

"That's enough to plan meals," Bianca said. "Same goes for everyone else. I know Jonathan isn't here Monday, Wednesday, or Thursday because of class."

"Do you do all the cooking?" CeCi asked.

"Most," Bianca said. "But it's more about being available. Jonathan helps when he's home, and we all share cleaning duties."

We finished eating, and everyone complimented Bianca again, then Jack, Kristy, and I went to the kitchen to do the dishes. I washed, Jack dried, and Kristy put things away, which was very efficient. We'd just about finished when the phone rang. I quickly dried my hands and answered the call.

"Kane," I said.

"Mr. Kane? This is Detective Sergeant Bill Thomas of the Overland Park, Kansas, Police Department. Do you know a Miss Beverly Newton?"

XXXIII. One Crisis at a Time

April 5, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"I do! Is she OK?"

"She's been taken by uniformed officers to Overland Park Regional Medical Center for a psychiatric evaluation."

"What about Heather?"

"Are you the child's father?"

The little voice that demanded I always tell the truth was instantly overwhelmed and outshouted by some part of me that screamed, 'Say yes!'. I hesitated for a brief second, then went with my gut, knowing there was no father's name on the birth certificate.

"Yes," I fibbed. "How is she?"

"The officers didn't report any injuries. She'll be evaluated by pediatricians at the hospital. Would you tell me your full name, address, and birthdate?"

"May I ask why?"

"For the report," he said. "I also need to confirm some paperwork that was found with Miss Newton."

"Jonathan Edward Kane. My birthday is November 3, 1962. I moved on Friday, and any document would have my old address -- 1441 West Estes Avenue in the Rogers Park neighborhood of Chicago. My current address is 1840 West Morse Avenue, also in the Rogers Park neighborhood of Chicago. May I ask what document?"

"A complete power of attorney, including healthcare, prepared in St. Louis, but valid here. The doctors will want to speak to you once they complete their evaluation. What's your relationship with Miss Newton? Are you married?"

"No. We were best friends growing up, then boyfriend and girlfriend in High School. After that, I'm not sure what you'd call it once I moved to Chicago."

"What do you mean?"

"We were intimate but not steady. I was with her when Heather was born, and we've talked about the future."

"When was the last time you spoke to her?"

"At the end of February."

"Why not since then?"

I knew I had to be careful how I answered so as not to make the detective suspicious or give him reason to be concerned.

"She and her parents had a serious falling out, and I kind of got caught in the middle."

"That often happens in these cases of out-of-wedlock kids. Where was she living most recently?"

"St. Louis," I replied, then gave the McGill's address.

"OK. That matches her driver's license. We found your card in her purse, along with the power of attorney and no other contact information. Do you know how to get in touch with her family?"

"I do, but Bev was adamant once she left home that she wanted no contact with them in any way, shape, or form. They actually filed a missing person's report, and the FBI and Chicago Police came to me to find out where she was, but then they didn't inform her parents because she's over eighteen and was OK. Her parents sent a private investigator to find her, and that's when she left St. Louis."

"This is starting to make more sense now."

"What happened?"

"She was staying in a local motel, and the manager was concerned because she was behaving erratically and acting paranoid. We sent two uniformed officers to check on her -- what we call a welfare and safety check. She had a complete breakdown and started screaming incoherently at the officers. Because of that, they called the paramedics, and she was taken to the hospital, along with the child. Can you come get the child?"

"One way or the other, yes. How soon do I have to be there?"

"If you can't collect her by tomorrow at noon, she'll become a temporary ward of the State and go into emergency foster care. Trust me, you want to avoid that, if at all possible. It will complicate things and might result in your girlfriend losing custody of the child."

"OK. Where do I need to go?"

"The hospital is just off I-35 in Overland Park. I'd say it's a nine-hour drive from Chicago but less than two hours by plane."

"Let me figure that out, but one way or the other, I'll be there by noon."

"When you arrive at the hospital, go to Pediatrics. They'll summon a detective and social worker, and once you show them your ID, you can take your daughter."

"Thanks," I said, wondering what, exactly, I would do with an almost-year-old baby. "Could you give me your number, the number to the hospital, and the street address of the hospital, please?"

He did, and once I had read it back to him to confirm, we ended the call.

"That didn't sound good," Jack said.

"It's not. Bev is in a hospital in Overland Park, Kansas, for a psychiatric evaluation, and if I'm not there by noon tomorrow, she might lose custody of Heather."

"You aren't Heather's father, so how is that possible?" Kristy asked.

"I might have fibbed about that to the detective. The thing is, the birth certificate was modified to remove Bob Leahy's name, and Bev didn't add anyone. So unless Bev says something or the real father says something, there's no way for the police in Overland Park, Kansas, to know. The problem is, if I don't go, Heather will go into emergency foster care, and Bev could lose her, and that would...well, I don't want to think about it."

"What are you going to do?" Jack asked.

"Call the travel agency, book a flight, and figure it out from there. It's a nine-hour drive per the detective, so that's a last resort. I also need to call Mr. Matheson and ask if it's OK to take two or three days of sick time or whatever they'll call it. And then I have the bigger problem -- what the heck do I do with a nearly one-year-old baby?"

"I take it calling her mom is out of the question?" Jack asked.

"That would be the last thing Bev wanted me to do."

"Less than losing Heather?" Kristy asked.

"Good point, but I...let me make the call to the travel agent."

It was after 6:00pm, so I couldn't call the regular number for Windy City Travel. Instead, I dialed the 800 number on the card Barney had given me.

"Round-the-Clock Travel Service, this is Kelly! How may I help you?"

"My name is Jonathan Kane, and I'm a client of Windy City Travel. I'm in Chicago, and I need to be in Overland Park, Kansas, no later than 10:00am tomorrow."

"One moment while I check flights."

I heard the telltale click-clack of keys to a computer terminal, then papers shuffling, then more key sounds before she spoke again.

"I'm afraid you can't make the last flight tonight, which departs in about thirty minutes unless you're at or near the airport, in which case you should go to the counter and see an agent."

"I'm at home, at least thirty minutes away."

"The first flight in the morning to Kansas City, which is the airport that serves Overland Park, is on TWA, departing 7:25am and arriving 10:04am."

"Book that, please. Charge it to my Amex on file if you can do that."

"For security purposes, I'll need you to give me the number, sir."

I read her the numbers and the expiration date, and she repeated them back.

"OK, Sir. What return do you want?"

"You can do open-ended, right?"

"Yes. This is already a full-fare ticket as it's last minute. It's fully refundable, there are no charges to change, and you'll just need to call Windy City or the airline to book the specific return flight."

"Perfect. Do that."

After twenty seconds of clicks and clacks, she spoke again.

"The ticket is booked. You can collect it at the check-in desk at O'Hare. Please be there no later than 6:30am. You'll need to show a photo ID and the credit card you just used. Do you need a hotel or a car...sorry, you're not twenty-one, so there's no chance you can rent a car."

"Let me worry about the hotel when I get there, and I'll take a cab from the airport to the hospital."

"OK. Is there anything else I can help you with?'

"No. And thank you!"

"You're welcome, Sir! Have a nice trip!"

"Thanks."

We ended the call, and I went up to my room to get my address book so I could call Mr. Matheson. I used the extension in my room and dialed his home number. His wife answered and called him to the phone.

"Kane? What's wrong?"

It made sense for him to ask that, as there was no good reason for me to call him at home unless something was seriously wrong. I quickly explained the situation and asked for time off.

"Normally, emergency time off is limited to family, but I'll make an exception, given the strange circumstances. Don't you have Hawks tickets for tomorrow night?"

I had completely forgotten about that, despite having discussed it with Violet when I'd seen her the previous night. But right now, Bev and Heather have to be priorities.

"I'll have Jack Clinton bring them to the office tomorrow, and someone else can use them," I said. "I have two allocated for the second round if they make it."

"OK. Have him bring them to me. Call me tomorrow and let me know how long you think you'll be gone."

"I will. Thank you very much."

"Just keep earning, and you'll be treated like a king."

And like a jester, if I didn't. We said 'goodbye' and I hung up, grabbed the envelope with the Hawks tickets, then went downstairs to the kitchen, where Jack and Kristy were just finishing the dishes.

"Two problems out of the way," I said. "Jack, I need to give you the Hawks tickets I have for tomorrow night's playoff game to give to Murray Matheson."

I handed him the envelope.

"Sure," he replied. "No problem."

"I also need to call Violet and let her know, then I need to figure out what to do about Heather."

"I think you might have to call her parents," Kristy suggested.

"Only as a last resort," I said, picking up the phone.

I dialed Violet's number and explained what had happened.

"You have to go," she said. "I hate missing the game, but you can't let Heather go into foster care!"

"That's what I was thinking," I said, and then a possible solution hit me.

I was reluctant to ask, but with no other options, I had to take the risk.

"Violet, you know a lot about taking care of toddlers, right?"

"Obviously, or I'd be a pretty bad daycare worker!"

"I know zero about them, and I have nobody else to ask for help. Would you come to Kansas City with me?"

"What?!" she gasped. "Me?!"

"I know it's a lot to ask, but I need to find someone who can help me, and you know why I can't call Bev's parents."

"Uhm, where would we sleep?"

"I need to take this one crisis at a time," I said. "I can call the travel agent to book a hotel and get two rooms."

"I don't know," Violet said. "I've never been anywhere except Chicago, and I've never flown or stayed in a hotel."

"I wouldn't ask if it weren't an emergency. Think about what will happen if I meet with the police and family services and I can't even change a diaper or know how to feed Heather or anything?"

"You'll be with me the whole time?"

"I promise, though they might not let you see Bev. Heck, they might not let me see Bev. And we'd be in separate hotel rooms, of course, but next door to each other."

"I, uhm...yes. I'll go."

"OK. I'm going to call for a second ticket. I'll need to pick you up at about 5:15am tomorrow morning. Don't forget to call in to work."

"I won't. I was going to share some good news tomorrow, but I'll tell you now -- I was offered the clerk's job at the plumbing company, and I'm going to take it."

"That's great! I'll see you tomorrow at 5:15am and call you tonight if there are any problems."

"OK."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up.

"Sounds as if you resolved that," Kristy said.

"Maybe," I replied. "Until Violet actually gets on the plane, it's a risk. I need a backup plan, but I need to call for Violet's ticket and book a hotel."

I pulled out the card and dialed the number and asked the person who answered to connect me to Kelly. I had to hold for two minutes, but then she came on the line. I explained the situation, she booked the second ticket and, after some discussion, two adjoining rooms at the Marriott at the airport. That accomplished, I went to tell the others what had happened.

"Is she OK?" Shelly asked.

"I have no idea and won't until I speak to a doctor, which will be in the morning. The detective didn't indicate that she was physically injured in any way."

"How long will you be gone?" Keiko asked.

"I'm not sure, but at least one night. I'll call with an update tomorrow. I need a backup plan in case Violet can't get on the plane."

"What about her friend in St. Louis?" Shelly suggested. "That is fairly close to Kansas City."

"And I should have thought of that!" I said. "Let me go call them."

I went up to my room, found the McGill's number, and dialed it. Tammy answered, and I asked to speak to her mom.

"Did you hear from Bev?" Tammy asked.

"Not directly," I replied. "I'll explain everything to your mom."

Tammy reluctantly called her mom to the phone. I had met Mrs. McGill and her husband a few times before they'd moved, so we weren't complete strangers. I quickly explained what had happened and the potential dilemma I faced. Mrs. McGill readily agreed to drive to Overland Park should Violet not be able to make the flight. She suggested calling Bev's parents, but after some discussion, she agreed that it might make things worse and might also undo my subterfuge about Heather. I promised to call her as soon as I knew anything more or if I needed her.

With the backup plan in place, I tackled the next potential problem - Heather's clothes and other things, which I suspected were in the hotel room, along with Bev's things. And that made me think of Bev's car, which would solve our transportation problems. I wondered if there was any possibility of getting those things, so I dialed the number for the detective who had called me.

"Detective Thomas, Investigations."

"Detective, this is Jonathan Kane. I've arranged a flight first thing in the morning, and I wondered if it would be possible to get some of Heather's things from Bev's hotel room, as well as the keys to her car?"

"It's not a crime scene, and the power of attorney is broad, so I'd say we can do that."

"I think it might be best if I do that before I go to the hospital," I said. "That way, I have Heather's diaper bag and clothes."

"Good thinking. Let me give you the address of the Motel 6. I'll meet you there and have the motel manager let you into the room. How are you going to get there?"

I thought about it for a second, then said, "A car service."

"OK. They'll know it, but let me give you the address just in case."

He did that, and once I repeated it back to him, I gave him my flight information, and he promised to be there at 11:00am and let me know the hospital was less than ten minutes from the motel. After I hung up, I made a third call to the after-hours number for the travel agency, changed my hotel reservations to Motel 6, and asked for a Town Car to be waiting for me at the airport. All of that accomplished, I felt I had everything in order, and made my final call of the evening.

"Hi, Mom," I said when she answered the phone.

"Jonathan? Is everything OK?"

"Not really," I replied. "I had a call from a detective with the Overland Park, Kansas Police Department to say that Bev had been taken to a local hospital for psychiatric evaluation after she began behaving erratically. I'm flying down to ensure Heather doesn't go into emergency foster care."

"But you're not her father!"

"You know that, I know that, and Bev knows that, but the police don't know that. Bob's name was removed from the birth certificate, so the police won't find out without a lengthy investigation conducted in Ohio. They don't know Bev is from there, either. They had her Missouri driver's license, my card, and some documents that gave me power of attorney."

"Did you have her draw those up?"

"No. She did that at some point in St. Louis, and I only found out about it because the detective told me. I'm flying down first thing in the morning, and my friend Violet, who works in a daycare, is coming along to help because I don't know the first thing about caring for a one-year-old. On the positive side, those documents will allow me to get Heather's things, as well as the keys to Bev's car. The police are, so far, being very coöperative. I also spoke with Mrs. McGill in St. Louis. Bev was staying with them, and if something happens that I need more help, she'll come to Overland Park."

"Did you speak to Jim and Julie?"

"No, and you cannot say anything to them. That's the LAST thing Bev would want. It might also blow apart my ability to keep Heather from emergency foster care."

"What's your plan once you get to Kansas?"

"I'm literally making this up as I go along," I replied. "The most pressing immediate concern receives my attention. I'll figure out what comes next, but right now, I have to stop the State of Kansas from taking Heather away from Bev. If that happens, Bev really will lose her mind instead of just being depressed, confused, and scared."

"You've always been level-headed, so keep that up, and realize that everything you do will impact the future, possibly in ways you haven't imagined."

"Oh, I know," I sighed. "But I owe Bev this much. And I need to speak with her before I decide anything beyond the most pressing concern. And, before you say it, yes, I know she'll be in no state to make any decisions."

"What will you do if they keep her in the hospital?"

"As I said, one crisis at a time. Ask me when I've had more time to think it through."

"Call me if you need anything at all. I'll come to Kansas if necessary."

"Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then stopped to think about what to do next. I needed clothes for the trip and contemplated what to pack. I decided that I wanted to show that I was responsible, capable, and had the means to care for both Heather and Bev, so I decided I'd wear one of my tailored suits on the flight so I had it on when I met the detective, social workers, and doctors. I chose the suit and hung it on a hook on the back of the closet door, then chose a white shirt, blue tie, and complementary suspenders. I set out my shoes, socks, and underwear, then thought about how to pack.

I'd need something to bring the suit back, and I didn't want to check any bags, so I decided to use my combination suit bag suitcase, as it had sufficient room to pack sneakers, jeans, several pairs of underwear, and a pair of Oxford shirts, along with a rugby shirt and sweatpants. I packed everything, then took the small bag for my toiletries to the bathroom and set it on the counter so I could pack it after my morning shower.

All of that accomplished, I put my passport on my desk, along with the latest editions of The Economist and Crain's Chicago Business, then surveyed what I'd done. I felt I had things under control, at least with regard to traveling. Fortunately, I had my credit cards, and I always carried around a hundred dollars in cash, so that wouldn't be a problem. If I needed additional cash, I could go to an American Express office and write a check, which they would cash for me.

I was about to go downstairs when it dawned on me that I might not be back by Friday evening for my date with Josie, so I called her and let her know I had to go out of town for an emergency and that I'd call her as soon as I knew more, but would most likely miss our Friday date. She was disappointed but understood, and I promised I'd make it up to her. After I finished the call, I couldn't think of anything else I needed to do, so I went downstairs to join my housemates.

"Is everything set?" Jack asked.

"I think so. I've packed, arranged flights, a car service, a hotel, and I'll be able to get Heather's things. I also spoke to Mr. Matheson, as well as the people Bev was staying with in St. Louis and my mom."

"What happens after you get Heather?" Bianca asked.

"As I said to my mom, I'm making this up as I go along. My first goal is to ensure Heather doesn't go into foster care. My second goal is to talk to Bev. Then I'll figure it out."

"Got a sec?" Deanna asked.

I nodded, and we left the room.

"I'm thinking we should postpone our evening activities," she said.

"Honestly, I hadn't even thought about that," I replied.

"And that's exactly why. You're going to be distracted. CeCi can come back once school's out. Maybe she'll just move to Chicago in June, given she's going to move into the house."

"That would be fine. Raincheck; and I promise we'll do what you two requested."

"You're not going to do something foolish like ask Bev to marry you, right?"

"That would be supremely foolish, not to mention, given what the detective said, she's in no condition to make a decision like that. Don't worry; I won't do anything to foreclose you from having your fantasy fulfilled!"

Deanna laughed, "And your nightmare?"

"Let's just say that a year ago, I would have agreed with you it was a nightmare. Now, it's an interesting, if potentially uncomfortable, experiment. Thanks for understanding about tonight."

"What kind of friend would I be if I didn't understand? If I were in trouble, I'd want you to bust your butt to help me, so I can't object to you helping Bev. And I hear horror stories about foster care, so I wouldn't wish that on any kid."

We went back to join the others and watched TV, though I wasn't really paying attention as I was mulling over the possibilities and how I'd deal with each of them, trying to formulate a coherent plan of action for each eventuality. My main concern was that, as I analyzed the situation, nearly every outcome except Bev being proclaimed fit, ended with Heather going to her grandparents, as I had no legal right to keep her, and at some point, they'd find out, and I'd potentially be in trouble with the law.

The chances of that being found out in the short term were minimal, as my discussion with Nelson about 'skip trace' had made clear that tracking down information outside a specific jurisdiction was time-consuming and manpower intensive. Given no warrants were outstanding, the only way the police in Overland Park could find out was if either Bev or I gave them a reason to investigate, they talked to the McGills, and then got in touch with Clermont County to ask for the records.

But even then, all they would find was a birth certificate without a name, and if they somehow discovered Bob's name had been removed and contacted him, he'd swear Heather was mine. It was, I almost laughed, the perfect 'crime'. Short of the new testing methods that Mr. Kingman had mentioned, there was no way to prove I wasn't Heather's dad, and all the available circumstantial evidence pointed that way.

I didn't like lying, but this was, in my opinion, one of those times when I had to set my rule aside for the greater good. I was also willing to take my lumps if it ensured Heather stayed out of foster care and with Bev. I reminded myself that this had to be the extreme exception to the rule of always being honest, but if this wasn't a time to do it, then short of Nazis coming to the door asking for Anne Frank, there wasn't a time.

Given I had to be up at 4:15am to ensure Violet and I were at the airport on time, I decided to go to bed after Three's Company. I couldn't have described the plot of the show, nor of Happy Days or Laverne & Shirley which had preceded it, because I was so preoccupied. I bade everyone 'good night', said 'goodbye' to CeCi, then headed up to bed.

While I was brushing my teeth, there was a knock at the door, so I spit out the toothpaste, rinsed my mouth, and went to see who was there.

"I thought maybe you'd want some company," Keiko said. "Just to sleep."

"I would," I said.

She smiled and said she'd be right back. I quickly undressed, set my alarm, and got into bed. Keiko returned, having brushed her teeth. She undressed and climbed into bed next to me. We snuggled close, and despite having so much on my mind, I managed to fall asleep fairly quickly.

April 6, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

When the alarm rang Wednesday morning, I sprang out of bed, quickly showered, dressed, then finished packing. I kissed Keiko goodbye, and she stayed in bed while I grabbed my bag and went downstairs to make coffee and heat two Cinnamon Frosted Pop-Tarts. While I was waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, Bianca came into the kitchen.

"Do you need anything?" she asked.

"I think I have it under control, at least with regard to getting there," I said. "After that, who knows?"

"Call me if you need anything at all. I'll come home at lunch to check the answering machine."

"I appreciate that."

"Are you sure Violet is going to be OK?"

"No, but I have a good feeling about how she'll handle it. And I have a contingency plan."

"What about work?"

"If I hadn't brought in Jeri's trust fund and identified the opportunity in precious metals and the devaluation of the Bolivar, I'd probably be on very shaky ground and would probably have to have found some other way. But I did those things, so I have some goodwill. Mr. Spurgeon takes care of his key earners, so all I need to do is continue to be successful, and everything will be fine at work. If I'm not successful, this drama won't matter."

When the coffee finished brewing, I poured a travel mug, grabbed the Pop-Tarts from the toaster, grabbed my bag and the mug, then kissed Bianca goodbye and left the house. I drove carefully, but also faster than the speed limit, though not so fast I felt I'd get a ticket, and arrived at Violet's house at 5:08am. She was ready, and after tossing her bag into the back seat with mine, we headed for O'Hare.

"What can you tell me in the next four hours that I need to know so I don't look or sound clueless about a one-year-old?" I asked.

Violet laughed, "Learn to be a Parent in Four Hours or Less?"

"Something like that! I mean, I saw Bev do things, but I didn't pay close attention. I've never changed a diaper, given Heather a bottle, or anything like that."

"Well, at age one, she should be talking, at least in terms of a few intelligible words like 'mama' and 'baba', which is a pretty common sound to make when a toddler wants a bottle. Other words really depend on her interaction with Bev. As for diapers, they're pretty easy, it's the cleanup that's the problem!"

"Bev did say there were times it seemed like toxic waste."

"Because it is!" Violet declared. "The key is to change the diaper every time it has poop or if it's very wet. And you use a soft washcloth and warm water to wipe her clean. You do have to be careful to wipe towards her back, not front, to uhm, er, avoid..."

"I get it," I said.

"And bottles are easy. You just cradle her in your arm and put the nipple in her mouth. She'll drink. Was Bev nursing her?"

"She was, but I have no clue what she did once she left home. I do know that Heather had bottles while Bev was at school."

"Formula or Bev's milk?"

"OK, now you've completely lost me."

Violet laughed, "You are such a guy at times! Girls can express milk, using a pump, and store it in the refrigerator for later use in a bottle."

"Seriously?"

"You're cute when you're confused!"

"At least I have that going for me because it's going to happen a lot over the next few days!"

"You'll do fine, Jonathan," Violet said reassuringly. "You're loving, caring, and gentle, and those are the primary traits for being a good parent to a baby or toddler. Just be your usual confident self, and I'll guide you."

"You have no idea how much I appreciate it!"

"So who am I?" she asked as I merged from the Ike onto the Kennedy.

"What do you mean?"

"When the police, social workers, or doctors ask about me, what are you going to say?"

"I hadn't even thought about that. As I've said several times in the past ten hours, I'm making this up as I go along and dealing with whatever is the most crucial thing at any given moment. As I think about it, I'd say you're a mutual friend. You've met Bev, so you can say you came along because girls are better with babies than boys, and you want to help. We have separate rooms at the motel, so that works in favor of them not assuming you're my girlfriend or whatever."

"I think that will work. Nobody is going to disagree that girls are better with babies than guys."

"And the more I think about it, the more I think it helps me look responsible," I said. "In other words, I want to make sure Heather is OK, so I enlisted your help."

"You're not afraid the police will figure out you're not Heather's dad?"

"It would be difficult for them to do that," I replied. "The birth certificate was changed to remove Bob Leahy, and if they do the legwork to check, he'll tell them I'm Heather's dad because that's what he thinks is true. I think by the time they could get that far, we'll have a plan and be away from there. Bev creating a power of attorney similar to the ones you signed made them believe me right away. We just have to give them no reason to doubt us."

"OK. I'm totally nervous about the whole thing, but I trust you to protect me and keep me safe."

"Always!"

At the airport, I chose short-term parking, mainly because I didn't want to risk any trouble with getting to the terminal on time. The cost difference wasn't outrageous, and once I'd parked, we headed for Terminal 2. I followed the signs and got into the TWA line, and eight minutes later, it was our turn. I handed my driver's license and Violet's Illinois ID Card, along with my American Express Card, to the woman dressed in airline colors.

"I have tickets waiting for me," I said. "They were booked last night with Windy City Travel's after-hours service."

She clicked keys on her terminal, then nodded, "I see you've paid for two tickets to Kansas City on our 7:25am flight, with an open return."

"That's correct," I replied.

"Do you have any bags to check?" she asked.

"No."

"Smoking or non-smoking?"

"Non, please."

She clicked some keys, then said, "Row 16, seats A and B, and nobody is in C."

"Thanks."

"Give me about five minutes, and we'll have you on your way."

She worked at her computer terminal, printing tickets, and boarding passes. She handed me two airline folders with the tickets and boarding passes sticking out of them, returned our IDs and my credit card, then directed us to the security line. Having flown twice, I knew how it worked and explained it to Violet. Ten minutes later, the security people, having found no guns, knives, bombs, or any other thing that concerned them, allowed us to make our way to the gate where we would board the Boeing 727 that would take us to Kansas City International Airport.

"Do you know where we're sitting?" Violet asked when we sat down at the gate to wait.

"At the gate," I replied with a smirk.

She smacked my arm lightly in response, then said, "I meant on the plane, silly!"

"Seats 16A and 16B," I said. "The only thing I know is that 'A' is a window seat. I'm not sure where on the plane that is."

"Just in front of the wing, with a bulkhead in front of you," a man sitting next to me offered.

"Thanks," I said.

"I take it despite the expensive suit, you don't fly much?"

"Second trip," I said.

"Attorney?"

"Financial analyst with Spurgeon Capital."

"My second guess was investment firm because, no offense, those are basically the only two fields where someone in their twenties would have an expensive, tailored suit. And come to think of it, I suspect you're too young to be an attorney."

"By a few years," I replied. "What do you do?"

"Professional hitman," he replied evenly.

I laughed, "And your real job?"

"Security consultant," he said, extending his hand. "Peter Scuderi."

"Jonathan Kane."

"What's in KC, if you don't mind my asking?"

"A friend in trouble," I replied. "Not with the law, but health-wise. You?"

"A security risk I need to resolve."

"Are you based in Chicago?"

"Cincinnati, actually."

"I'm from Goshen."

"Small world."

The flight was called, and once the pre-boarding was completed, we got in line and dutifully waited our turns. When we finally walked onto the jet, I saw that the seats were exactly as Mr. Scuderi had described. A perky young stewardess helped Violet and me stow our bags, and we sat down, with me taking the window seat, and Violet the middle seat. Mr. Scuderi went past us, and a glance over my shoulder revealed he was in the smoking section in the back of the plane.

"You OK?" I asked Violet, as she seemed nervous.

"I'll be OK," she said. "It's just new and overwhelming. But with you sitting there, it'll be fine."

About ten minutes after we'd boarded, they closed the doors, and the cabin crew gave the security briefing, which I'd now heard three times. The nearest exit was a side door by the galley to our right, but I also made sure to count the rows to the nearest wing exit behind us, something that I'd read was important to do so that if the lights were out or the cabin filled with smoke, I could count seats moving to the exit row.

We pushed back from the gate and then taxied to the runway. As the engines spooled up, Violet's hand found mine, and I held it as we hurtled down the runway, and the plane banked hard as it climbed into the air.

"Everything will be fine," I soothed.

"Is it OK to keep holding your hand?"

"Yes, of course."

The plane continued to climb, then turned again as we headed for Kansas City. Once we'd leveled off, the cabin crew began serving breakfast, and Violet let go of my hand. She appeared to relax, and I felt the most difficult part of her journey was complete, while the difficult part of mine awaited us in Kansas City.

"Is it always that loud?" she asked.

"Actually, the propeller-driven plane I flew on in January when I went to Cincinnati was louder, and the plane shook more as we climbed out. This was pretty smooth."

"About ninety minutes, right?" she said.

"About that, yes. According to the travel agent, the driver should be waiting for us at the gate. Then we'll go to the motel, check in, meet the police, and then go to the hospital."

And then, I'd have to figure out what to do next.

XXXIV. You Lied?

April 6, 1983, Overland Park, Kansas

"You know," I said as we lined up to leave the plane, "I never asked about your new job."

"You were focused on Bev, and I was sure we'd have time to talk. I start April 25th, and I'll make almost twice as much as I do now."

"That's great!"

"I want to add more to my investment account. I can't believe how fast it's growing!"

"Once you start, we'll work on that."

We left the plane and walked along the jetway. When we entered the gate area, I saw a young black man holding a sign that read 'KANE'. Violet and I walked over to him, and I let him know I was Jonathan Kane. We followed him out of the terminal to a black Lincoln Town Car. He put our bags in the trunk, then we got into the back seat. I saw his ID card and noted his name was James, which I found amusing.

"Motel 6 in Overland Park, right?"

"That's correct."

"If you don't mind my saying, with the suit you're wearing, the InterContinental downtown would be a much better choice."

"I need to meet some police officers at the motel, then visit a friend in the hospital."

"Oh, man, sorry!"

"It's OK. I suspect there aren't too many fares to the Motel 6."

"No. I asked my boss to double-check because it didn't make sense, but your travel agent confirmed it. And now it makes perfect sense. Sorry if I invaded your privacy."

"It's OK," I replied. "A friend of mine sends a car for me from time to time, and the driver and I chat almost every time. His name is James, too."

"Some people are offended, but you seemed cool."

"I try!"

"First time in the KC area?"

"Yes. And only staying long enough to take care of my friend. Sightseeing will have to wait for another time."

We chatted amiably during the drive, and when we arrived at the motel, I saw a police car parked by the office. James pulled up behind it and handed me a clipboard with an invoice, which I signed after adding a generous tip. He let us out of the car and got our bags from the trunk, carrying them into the office for us. I saw two uniformed officers and a plainclothes detective with his badge on his belt.

"Mr. Kane?" the plainclothesman called out.

"That's correct," I said, extending my hand. "You must be Detective Sergeant Thomas."

"I am," he said, shaking my hand. "Could I see some ID, please?"

I handed him my driver's license, he looked it over, and handed it back.

"I take it you're checking in here?"

"Yes."

"Do that, then we'll get you into Miss Newton's room."

I stepped over to the reception desk and gave my name.

"Yes, sir," the young woman behind the desk said. "We have you in adjoining rooms on the ground floor, next to the room your friend was staying in."

"Is she paid up?" I asked.

"Through Friday."

"OK."

After signing the registration cards, I handed over my American Express card. She made the imprint, then handed it back, along with a key to each room.

"Let me call the manager," she said. "He'll open Miss Newton's room for you."

"Thanks."

It took a minute before he arrived, and the small entourage of three police officers, the manager, Violet, and I left the office. We first went into our rooms to leave our bags, then went into Bev's room, accompanied by the officers.

"Mind if I ask who you are, Miss?" Detective Sergeant Thomas said to Violet.

"Violet Clemmons. I'm friends with Jonathan and Bev, and I work in a daycare. Jonathan, being a guy and a relatively new dad, needs as much help as he can get!"

The three officers all laughed.

"He asked me to come along to make sure Heather had someone to watch her in case he needed to be with Bev."

"May we see your ID?" he requested.

She handed her Illinois ID card to him, and he handed it to one of the uniformed officers, who wrote the information on his pad before handing Violet's ID back to her.

"Are you and Bev estranged, Mr. Kane?" the detective asked.

"No, it's just she's going through a tough time because of the problems with her family," I said. "She made it clear to me she needed time away, and I was waiting for her to call, which I was sure she would, but you called first. It won't surprise you her dad isn't happy."

"I'd say that's a given," Detective Sergeant Thomas said. "If my teenage daughter got pregnant, I wouldn't be happy! What do you do for a living?"

"Financial analyst for an investment company in Chicago."

"That explains the suit, which must have cost a month of my take-home pay! Have you and Miss Newton lived together?"

"No, though we visited regularly. She was attending the University of Cincinnati, and we were trying to sort out our future when things went to Hell between her and her parents. That's why she went to St. Louis to be with a friend from High School who had moved."

"Why not come to Chicago?"

"She assumed that was the first place her parents would look for her, and she was correct in her assumption. They called me, then called the police. I had a visit from a Cook County Sheriff's Deputy along with a pair of FBI agents. I gave them her information, and they checked on her. They discovered she was OK and didn't want any contact with her parents, so they closed the case at that point."

"Which they would. OK. It all sounds copacetic."

"Thanks. Violet, would you get Heather's things, please? Detective, I don't see Bev's purse."

"I have the car keys," he said, handing them to me. "Her purse is at the hospital."

Violet had quickly packed Heather's things, and I quickly decided something else needed to be done, so I asked the manager if we could move the crib from Bev's room to my room. He agreed and did that, with the rest of us leaving the room. I checked the Chevy to make sure it started and had gas, which it did, then asked the detective for directions to the hospital. He gave them, and they were straightforward enough that I didn't need to write them down.

"I'll meet you there," he said.

"OK," I agreed.

The manager locked Bev's room, the police officers departed, Violet and I locked our rooms, then got into Bev's 1982 Chevy Citation coupe, a car her dad had bought her after her trip to Chicago.

"That seemed to go OK," Violet commented as I pulled out of the parking lot.

"So far, so good," I replied. "The acid test will be the social worker."

"Why?"

"Bev and I aren't married, and while the cops don't seem to care about that, I'll bet you anything the social worker will be concerned. I'm not sure what's going on with Bev, so who knows what she might have said? This could all unravel right there, even if they don't discover I'm lying about being Heather's dad."

"Do you think Bev would say who the dad was? I thought you said she hadn't told anyone but you."

"That's true as far as I'm aware, but I haven't spoken to her in over a month, and I have no idea about her state of mind, except they said she was being evaluated by a psychiatrist. My interactions with psychiatrists have not been good."

"You mean Doctor Lochner?"

"Yes, and to a lesser extent at the hospital when you were there, but they were at least willing to hear my side."

"I'm sure you'll like Nancy. Do you think we'll be home in time for that?"

"I'd like to go home tomorrow, if at all possible, but who knows? And I have to figure out what's best for Heather."

"Which is what a good dad would say!"

I pulled into the parking lot of the hospital and parked in the Visitor's lot while the detective parked his car near the entrance. Violet and I got out of the car, with her carrying Heather's diaper bag, and we made our way to the entrance where the detective was waiting.

"Do you know how Bev is?" I asked.

"No. There was no reason for us to be involved further in what was purely a medical emergency. She hasn't broken any laws, and the baby was in good health. We basically ignored her losing it with the uniformed officers because it wouldn't do any good for anyone to even make a report about it beyond saying she was in need of medical assistance."

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

"Cops are not heartless bastards, no matter what TV might show. My captain is more like Henry Goldblume or Frank Furillo than he is Howard Hunter."

"Sorry, you lost me."

"Don't watch much TV?"

"No."

"Those are characters from Hill Street Blues, which is supposed to be in Chicago. Well, the cars are sure Chicago cars, and they show the Chicago L and skyline, but they never say it's Chicago. The Old Style beer signs give it away, too. It's actually a decent show, if a bit contrived."

"Aren't all TV shows contrived?"

"Good point!"

We made it to Pediatrics, and Detective Sergeant Thomas spoke to a nurse who let him know that Heather was in daycare and the social worker would bring her up. She also called a physician, and five minutes later, Violet and I were in a consultation room with the detective, Doctor Carrie Sanderson, Kris Jones, the social worker, and Heather.

"How is Bev?" I asked after everyone was introduced.

"She's lightly sedated and resting comfortably," Doctor Sanderson said. "You can go up to Internal Medicine once we're done, and they can fill you in."

"Not the psychiatric ward?"

"No. They'll explain."

"Thanks."

"Mr. Kane, may I see some ID, please?" Ms. Jones requested.

I handed her my driver's license and prompted Violet to hand over her ID card.

"And you are?" she asked Violet.

"A mutual friend who is here to help Jonathan because boys aren't exactly geniuses when it comes to babies! They know how to make them, but after that, they need serious help!"

Ms. Jones and the doctor both laughed. I almost laughed, but I was also amazed at what I was seeing in Violet's behavior. She was confident, funny, and outgoing in ways I'd only seen before I'd popped her gum into my mouth.

"Jonathan, do you know your blood type?" Doctor Sanderson asked.

"A+," I said. "The same as Heather's. Bev is O+."

Doctor Sanderson smiled, "You understood the nature of the question, even though I didn't state it."

"Sure. A science teacher in High School explained that. If I wasn't A+, then there would be no way Heather could be mine, so it's a way of verifying paternity without jumping through hoops."

"What do you do for a living, Jonathan?" Ms. Jones asked.

"I'm a financial analyst for an investment firm in Chicago."

"Do you have a business card?"

I took one from the inside pocket of my suit and handed it to her.

"What do 'Series 7' and 'Series 3' mean?"

"They're licenses for acting as a stockbroker, with each one reflecting different financial instruments. I'm licensed to conduct transactions in anything except life insurance and real estate."

"May I ask your annual salary?"

"$45,000, plus bonuses and commissions."

"Jesus," Detective Sergeant Thomas muttered. "Did I go into the wrong line of work!"

"You and me both!" Doctor Sanderson declared. "I'll make that next year as an Attending, and I'm almost thirty. Jonathan, if I may call you that, you're twenty-two?"

"Twenty," I replied.

"We all got into the wrong line of work!" Ms. Jones declared. "Mind if I satisfy my curiosity about your bonuses and commissions?"

"My total compensation this year, from all sources, should be north of $120,000."

Of course, it was only that high because of Jeri's trust fund, so I most likely wouldn't reach that income level again for several years.

"Holy crap!" Detective Sergeant Thomas said. "I don't begrudge you, Kid, but damn! What do you do for them that earns you so much?"

"Provide analytical support for trading currencies, precious metals, stocks, and bonds, and I also manage portfolios."

"Where do you live?" Ms. Jones asked. "This address?"

"No. I moved on Friday and haven't had time to change my address."

I gave it to her, and she wrote it down on a form.

"Rent?"

"Own. I bought the house."

"Kill me now!" Detective Sergeant Thomas groaned. "I bought my first house at twenty-eight, and it was a stretch.

"Given your age, I'm going to assume only a High School education?" Ms. Jones asked.

"I'm taking night classes at the University of Illinois Circle Campus. That's how I met Violet, and she, Bev, and I became friends."

"Bev doesn't live in Chicago, though."

"No, she's visited, and of course, I've been back to Ohio, including when Heather was born."

"You were with her when she delivered?"

"Yes."

"Let's see what she thinks," Ms. Jones said, handing Heather to me.

Thankfully, Heather gurgled, cooed, and smiled at me.

"Do you have a car seat?"

"In the back seat of Bev's car," I replied.

"May I see the supplies you have?" Ms. Jones asked Violet.

Violet unzipped the diaper bag and handed it to her.

"OK," Ms. Jones said after looking through the bag. "I'm satisfied he's properly prepared and has the necessary help and financial resources to care for Heather. With matching blood types, an admission of paternity, and the clearly expressed wishes of Ms. Newton in her legal documents, I'm willing to release her to him."

"I'll say he has the resources," Detective Sergeant Thomas said, shaking his head. "Doc, you OK with releasing Heather to Mr. Kane?"

"Yes. I have the discharge papers ready; I just need to sign them. If you'll wait here, I'll get them and come right back."

We waited while she went to retrieve the paperwork and returned with a sheet she handed to me.

"You'll probably want to see our Patient Services on the ground floor to make arrangements for any charges. I'm not sure about her mom's insurance."

"Neither am I," I replied. "But I'll figure that out when we see Bev."

"I have a bit of paperwork to do," Detective Sergeant Thomas said. "OK to use this room?"

"Yes," Doctor Sanderson agreed. "That's all, then. Jonathan, if you wait, I'll have a medical student escort you to Internal Medicine."

"Thanks."

"Any hot stock tips?" Detective Sergeant Thomas asked.

"Let me give you my card. Call me next week, and I'll do a complete financial analysis for you and make recommendations. No charge."

"That's great!"

I handed him a card, and a minute later, a pretty young medical student came to escort us to Internal Medicine. She walked us to the nurses' station, then returned to Pediatrics.

"Jonathan Kane to see Beverly Newton," I said. "This is her daughter, Heather, and our friend, Violet."

"Let me get Doctor Warner for you. One moment."

She paged Doctor Alice Warner, who appeared about three minutes later. She greeted us, then escorted us to a consultation room similar to the one in Pediatrics, though with different art reprints on the wall.

"How is Bev?" I asked.

"She has sub-clinical depression and is slightly anemic, but otherwise, she's OK. She was distraught last night, so we gave her sedatives to help her sleep, and she woke up about an hour ago."

"What does 'sub-clinical depression' mean?"

"That she doesn't need medication, nor does she need hospitalization. It's not uncommon in new moms, though it's rare to last a year. I take it there are special circumstances?"

"Unwed pregnancy in High School and estranged from her parents."

"That would explain it. I take it you're the baby's father?"

"Yes. I knew Bev was struggling but didn't realize how bad it was. We're not living together."

"Ah, I see," she said, looking at Violet.

Violet smiled, "I'm friends with both of them. Jonathan and I have never dated. I'm here to help with Heather because he's your basic clueless twenty-year-old guy!"

Doctor Warner smiled, "But is he trainable?"

Both Violet and I laughed.

"Bev seems to have him fairly well trained," Violet said. "I mean, he got on a plane immediately to come help her."

"Will we be able to take Bev home?" I asked.

"You have healthcare power of attorney, so you can sign her out at any time because she's not on a psych hold. I'd like her to stay one more night and see if she can sleep without sedatives."

"And if she can't?"

"Then I'll prescribe something short-term, and she'll need to see her physician. I'd also strongly recommend either counseling or a mom's support group. Having a baby in High School can be overwhelming."

"I'll say," I replied. "I'm glad I wasn't the one to go through labor and delivery!"

"Most men are wimps that way," Doctor Warner said with a smile. "Would you like to see Bev?"

"Absolutely. Can I take Heather?"

"It's not normally allowed, but I'll make an exception because she's worried about her, and I think it'll be good for Bev."

"Does she know I'm here?"

"No. We didn't want to say anything until the police and social services vetted you. Let me take you to her, and then I'll leave you alone. Visiting hours end at 8:00pm, but I'd recommend you not stay if she becomes agitated. Just press the call button if that happens."

"Thanks."

She led us to a room, opened the door, and said, "Bev, you have visitors."

I walked in with Heather, followed by Violet, and Doctor Warner left.

"Jonny?!" Bev gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"One knight in shining armor riding to rescue the damsels in distress with his trusty page at your service! Would you like to hold our daughter?"

"Our daught...what are you talking about?"

I handed Heather to Bev, then said, "My options were either telling a fib or allowing Heather to go into emergency foster care. I believe I made the right choice."

"You lied, Jonny?!" Bev gasped in surprise. "You never lie!"

"If I was going to make an exception, this was it," I said. "Unless you tell, the subterfuge will be successful. Did they ask?"

"Yes, but I said I didn't want to talk about it. How did you find out?"

"A detective found my card and the power of attorney documents in your purse and called me because it was easiest for them. I'm sure the next call would have been the McGills, but when I said I was Heather's dad, the detective believed me. It helps she and I have the same blood type!"

"And I'm here because Jonathan said he's clueless about babies," Violet interjected with a smile.

"Not the only thing!" Bev said.

"I won't debate that!" I replied with a smile of my own. "Want me to bust you out of this joint?"

"Could you?"

"First thing tomorrow. I agree with Doctor Warner that you should spend one more night under observation. Then we're going to Chicago."

"What?!" Bev gasped.

"Give me another option. The way I see it, you have two. Let me bring you to Chicago, at least for the short term, or I'm taking you home."

"NO!" Bev wailed. "NO!"

"Relax or they'll make us leave," I said firmly. "You need help, Bev, and it's either me or our moms. Take your pick."

"She could stay with me," Violet offered. "There's plenty of room at my house, and you could see her every school night, at least."

I considered it and felt that it would be good for both Bev and Violet. And it would solve the problem of who slept where at my house, though I was positive my female housemates would be happy for me to share their beds on a rotating basis.

"There you go, Bev," I said. "We'll drive back to Chicago tomorrow after I bust you out."

Bev laughed softly, "They had me in soft restraints overnight, so it did feel like jail."

"But you also have to agree to see a counselor about your depression."

"You know why I'm depressed," Bev sighed.

"I do, and there is literally nothing that can be done about the past. You need to move forward for your sake and for Heather's. One way or the other, you need to deal with it. If not, I'm afraid what will happen the next time. I might not be able to help."

"What about your job? Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"I've made Spurgeon enough money for them to tolerate this. Don't worry about me; worry about you and Heather. Do you promise to see a counselor?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No. Well, we always have choices, but saying 'no' means I take Heather to her grandparents."

"You wouldn't!"

"Bev, the police had to call paramedics, and you had to be sedated. Heather may not be my biological daughter, but I care for her, and I'm going to protect her, even from you."

"Bastard!" Bev growled.

"A true statement of my birth circumstances," I replied. "I'll take your epithet as an agreement to see a counselor."

"You can be a real jerk at times, Jonny!"

"It might not be my place," Violet said, "but they were going to take Heather into custody and send her to foster care! You do not want that! Trust me! Not to mention, then you'd have to fight to get her back and prove you were OK. They don't have to prove you aren't."

"How do you know?" Bev asked.

"I spent five years in foster care after my parents were arrested for molesting my older sister."

"Whoa!" Bev gasped, her eyes wide. "Jonny never told me!"

"Because I asked him not to. My parents also locked me in a cage once I discovered what they were doing."

"Oh my gosh!"

"It's all true," Violet said firmly. "And, as I said, you want to avoid foster care. My foster family was OK, but I talked to lots of kids who had terrible families and treated them like dirt. I'm sure my counselor can give you names of counselors who help new moms, which is what the doctor recommended. That or a support group."

"And you'll go and get better and then decide on your future," I said firmly.

"And you won't call my parents?"

"No, but I honestly think you should work with Mr. Chojnicki and get child support from you know who."

"You can say his name to Violet."

"Glen is willing to pay, and you should accept it."

"What about your mom?"

"They've had coffee a few times. I advised her not to hold something against him that happened before they even had their first date."

"I'm confused," Violet said.

"Jonny, why don't you take a walk so I can talk with Violet," Bev suggested.

"We'll need to get lunch soon," I countered.

"They'll bring my lunch in about thirty minutes. Disappear, OK?"

"Disappearing," I said.

I left the room and stopped at the nurses' station to ask where I could find a payphone.

"Local? Or long distance with a calling card?"

"Calling card."

"Then you can use the phone in the consultation room. Just dial nine, then the toll-free number for your card. You cannot direct-dial long distance from that phone."

I went to the room, and used my Sprint calling card to call home, and happily caught Bianca there. I related everything that happened and my plan to drive back on Thursday with Bev and Heather, who would stay at Violet's house. Bianca asked if I needed anything, and I couldn't think of anything I needed, so we ended the call. Next, I called Mr. Matheson's direct line, which bypassed the secretaries.

"Matheson."

"Kane. I'll be in the office on Friday."

"Good. How did things work out?"

"So far, so good. Bev is going to stay in the hospital one more night, then she'll be released. Her daughter is fine."

"That's good to hear. I confirmed that you have tickets for the first or second home game of the second round of the playoffs if the Hawks make it."

"Thanks."

"And I gave those first-round tickets to your buddy Clinton. You owe me one."

"I'm good for it!"

"See you Friday."

We said 'goodbye' and I made the next call to Goshen High to speak to my mom.

"Goshen High, Linda Kane."

"Jonathan Kane."

"How is Bev?!" Mom asked.

"I'm fine, Mom, thanks for asking," I teased.

"You're such a smart ass! You know I care! Now, how are Bev and Heather?"

"Fine. Bev needs to stay one more night in the hospital, but I have Heather. Well, she's with Bev and Violet right now. Tomorrow, when Bev gets out, I'm taking her to Chicago."

"Are you sure that's wise?"

"She needs help, Mom. I gave her two choices -- come to Chicago or go home. She doesn't want to go home."

"Be careful, Jonathan."

"I am, and I will be. Bev will stay with Violet, who has her own house and plenty of room. Bev also agreed to go to counseling, something I insisted she do, on threat of bringing Heather to her grandparents."

"You're a very wise young man," Mom said.

"I know," I replied smugly.

"Oh, stop!" Mom said, laughing. "What happens next?"

"I have no idea. If you're worried I'm going to ask Bev to marry me, don't. That is not in the cards and won't be for some time, if ever. I will only consider it after she finishes counseling. And that's not to say I'll eventually ask, either."

"I'd say that's wise, but you'll give me some smug smart-ass answer!"

"Of course I will! I have to make up for Violet telling everyone I'm a clueless guy when it comes to caring for babies."

"She's probably not wrong!"

"No, she's not, and it did a great job of disarming the cop and social worker who were trying to figure out the relationships. Want to know something funny?"

"Besides your looks?" Mom teased.

I chuckled, "OK, I deserved that!"

"Yes, you did!"

"They asked my blood type as a way of deciding if Heather really was my daughter. It's a good thing I'm A+."

"It sure is. That would have tripped you up otherwise."

"Yes, it would. I won't keep you, but I wanted to let you know everything was OK."

"Thanks, Jonathan. I love you!"

"I love you, too, Mom!"

I ended that call and made one more -- to the McGills to let them know Bev was OK. After I finished that call, I checked my watch. I had another eighteen minutes to kill, so I left the hospital building and walked around outside for fifteen minutes before returning to Bev's room to find her and Violet giggling like grade school girls.

"Everything seems to be OK here," I said.

"We were talking about YOU, which is why we were giggling!" Bev declared.

"Oh, great!" I said with a theatrical sigh.

An orderly came in with Bev's lunch, so Violet and I took Heather, left the room, and decided to go to the cafeteria.

"How is she?" I asked after we got our food and sat down.

"Not good, despite the laughter," Violet said. "She's pretty depressed but was putting on a front for you."

"I figured. Do you think she can care for herself and Heather?"

"I think so, but we'll have to see. Obviously, I'll help, but I'm gone during the day for work and three evenings for class, as you know."

"We'll just take it one day at a time. Also, I'll give you some money to cover food, diapers, and so on, given Bev doesn't have a job."

"OK," Violet agreed. "And I also found out why the police and social services were so coöperative."

"Oh?"

"One of the papers Bev had named you as Heather's guardian if she can't care for her. The point of the power of attorney and guardianship documents was to prevent her parents from taking Heather away or having any say. Bev trusted you implicitly."

"Given all of that, I have to ask why she didn't come to Chicago."

"She wasn't thinking straight," Violet said. "I know how that is, at least in a way, given how I've felt for much of the last seven years."

"You're doing much better."

"I know, and it's mostly thanks to you. What's your plan?"

"Nothing beyond Bev going to counseling. Oh, before I forget, we have replacement Hawks tickets for the first or second game of round two, assuming the Hawks make it."

"Yes!" Violet exclaimed happily. "You're awesome!"

"You can thank my boss. He fixed it for us. He gave tonight's tickets to Jack and Kristy."

"That was really nice!"

"I suspect some deal between Mr. Matheson and Mark Benton, Kristy's dad, who works at Spurgeon as a floor trader. Otherwise, Jack technically isn't allowed to use the tickets himself.

"Which is why you couldn't get tickets before you were promoted, right?"

"Right."

We finished eating, then Violet gave Heather a bottle. Once Heather finished her bottle, she went to a restroom to change Heather's diaper, then we went back to see Bev. Given we had nothing else to do, and Bev seemed to be doing OK, we stayed until dinner time, though I did duck out to discuss the bill with a clerk in their billing department. When they brought Bev her meal, Violet and I said 'good night', and we took Heather with us, promising to see Bev first thing in the morning.

We stopped at the information desk and asked for a recommendation for a place to eat, and the young man behind the desk suggested a diner on Antioch Road and provided simple directions. Ten minutes later, we walked in and were seated at a table, and a high chair was brought for Heather.

"You make a cute family," the waitress, who was about my mom's age, said.

"Thanks," I replied, not wanting to get into a discussion about it.

We ordered Cokes, perused the menus, and both opted for cheeseburger platters, though I ordered a double while Violet ordered a single.

"Cute family, huh?" Violet asked after the waitress left.

"I suppose it's true, at least from her perspective," I replied. "Mind telling me what you and Bev talked about?"

"Mostly about the two of you," Violet replied. "How you were friends as toddlers, then in High School, boyfriend, and girlfriend, how she cheated on you with a guy named Bob..."

"She didn't cheat," I said, interrupting Violet. "We were never officially a couple."

"She explained, but she thinks she cheated on you and then on Bob when she got pregnant by the teacher."

"So you know the whole story, then," I observed.

"And she knows mine. Everything I told you, plus all the things you've done for me."

"And the giggling?"

"She was telling what she called 'Jonny stories' about silly things you did growing up. But some were about her, too. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"You're so considerate and so honest and so protective. Why did you abandon Bev?"

That question cut to my core, but it was valid.

"I've asked myself that question constantly for the past eighteen months, and I don't have a good answer. And any answer I could come up with would sound like an excuse. I messed up, and I was selfish. I can't tell you why."

"May I say something?"

"Yes, of course."

"You need to figure that out before you ask someone to marry you. If you could walk away that easily in the past, you might do it again."

I took a deep breath and let it out, then nodded, "That's good advice."

We sat quietly until the waitress brought our food, and we began eating.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Violet finally said.

"I prefer hearing the truth, even if it hurts. And I think, in the end, I was afraid Bev would say 'no' to my plans."

"Because you always did what she wanted; I mean every single time. That's what she said."

"And it's true."

"She really appreciated you being firm with her and taking charge today. She said you had never done that with her before. It was always 'What do you want?' or 'What should we do?'. And that backs up your comment about being afraid she might say 'no'. I don't think she would have, but I guess I can see how you thought she might."

"And speaking of changed behavior today, you surprised me."

"I didn't want to mess things up for you or Bev or do anything that might hurt this little girl who is munching on French fries."

"I think you should adopt this approach to your entire life," I said. "I think you'll be much happier."

"Nancy is helping."

"Good. Doctor Lochner was holding you back, and I feel I was completely justified in everything I said to her."

"Will you still come to my counseling session on Saturday?"

"Yes."

We finished eating, I gave Heather her bottle, and then we headed to the motel, where Violet helped me change Heather's diaper. Once that was accomplished, I took stock of the room and realized there was a door between my room and Violet's room. I unlocked it and found a door without a handle or keyway.

"Would you unlock the door on your side?" I asked. "I think we should push the crib into your room."

"You're afraid!" Violet said with a silly smile.

"Of course I am! I can bet a million dollars on a financial investment and not be nervous, but even holding Heather gives me the willies like you wouldn't believe!"

Violet laughed but then got up, went to her room, and opened the connecting door. The crib wouldn't fit through the door, so I collapsed it and then moved it into Violet's room.

"If you think you'll survive fifteen minutes alone with Heather, I'll pack Bev's things," Violet offered.

"I think I can manage!"

"We'll see!" Violet teased. "You have the key Bev gave you, right?"

"Yes," I replied, handing it to Violet.

I sat down with Heather in my arms, and Violet left the room. She returned fifteen minutes later with three bags.

"I see you survived!" she said.

"And I didn't move from this chair, either!"

Violet laughed softly, "You're so funny! She won't break! Well, I wouldn't suggest dropping her, but one-year-olds are pretty resilient."

"When does she need to go to bed?"

"According to Bev, around 8:00pm, and she'll wake up once around 3:00am, eat, and then go back to sleep until around 8:00am. Every baby has a different schedule, and they change."

"She seems content, and I'm surprised, because Bev isn't here."

"Again, every baby is different, and Heather seems to be generally content. And she obviously likes you. You've spent time with her before."

"True, but Bev was always there."

"You'll make a good dad. As I said, you're loving, caring, and gentle. OK to turn on the TV?"

"Yes, of course."

"OK to put on The Fall Guy, then The Facts of Life, and Family Ties?"

"Whatever you want. I don't watch much TV except the news."

"I used to watch a lot, but with class, obviously, I don't three nights a week."

Instead of paying attention to the TV, I read The Economist while alternately cradling Heather and allowing her to be on the floor. She was crawling short distances and seemed to entertain herself by exploring the room, coming back to me or Violet to be picked up at times. Just before 8:00pm, she stopped crawling, and it was obvious she was falling asleep, so Violet took her to her crib, put her down, then came back.

Violet watched TV while I read my magazine and Crain's, and when Family Ties finished, she said she was going to bed.

"If you want to lock the door between our rooms, I'll understand," I said.

"I'll just close it to the point where it doesn't latch," Violet said. "I totally trust you, and that way, you can get Heather if you want."

"At 3:00am?" I chuckled. "No thanks! I mean, I would if I had to, but you volunteered, and I'm happy to accept that!"

"You're so funny! Good night. What time are we leaving in the morning?"

"8:00am," I replied. "We'll check out, then have breakfast at International House of Pancakes, and then get Bev from the hospital."

"What happens to the tickets?"

"I can get my money back for the return leg," I replied. "They were full-fare tickets, so they're refundable and changeable."

"OK. I'll be up by 7:30am and have Heather ready."

"I really appreciate all your help!"

Violet came over to me, so I stood up. She hugged me tightly, kissed my cheek, then went into her room and closed the door but made sure it didn't latch. I got ready for bed, and knowing she was through an open door, I put on shorts rather than sleep naked as I usually did. I climbed into bed, turned off the light, and quickly fell asleep.

XXXV. What Happens Next is Anyone's Guess

April 7, 1983, on the road from Overland Park, Kansas to Chicago, Illinois

On Thursday morning, Violet and I had done as we'd planned, and Bev was released from the hospital just before 9:00am. Consulting an atlas I found in her car, I'd determined the best route, and we were on I-35 heading north towards Des Moines, though we'd turn off before we reached the Iowa border.

"I meant to ask," Bev said, "but what about the hospital bill?"

"There is some kind of state program for what they called 'indigent single mothers' that will cover most of the charges. You'll receive a bill for a token amount. I asked them to send it to my house. Is there anything you need to do in St. Louis?"

"No. I closed my bank account the day I left. I didn't open a new one."

"What about your job?"

"I called and told them I quit the day I left."

"I didn't ask yesterday, but have you been in Overland Park since you left St. Louis?"

"Yes," Bev answered from the back seat where she was sitting with Heather. "I needed to get away because I was sure the private detective would find me. I looked in my atlas and decided to come here and figure out what to do. I was sure four hours away was enough."

"I'll say this just once," I said. "You should have come to Chicago and allowed me to help you. Even if the investigator had found you, there was nothing anyone could have done. And I have no problem standing up to your dad."

"I needed my space," Bev said.

"And we could have worked something out. I won't belabor the point, but running away is no answer, especially when you have a baby to care for. But that's in the past now. Let's focus on the future -- counseling, then a decision about school and work, and where to live."

"You don't trust me, do you?" Bev said, sounding sad.

"Someone pointed out that I walked out on you without so much as a word before I had decided to do it and also pointed out that until I understood why I did that, I should be very careful about making any commitments."

"Your friend Anala or your housemate Bianca?"

"No," I replied. "Someone else."

"It was me," Violet said. "Jonathan, you should tell her what you said last night."

I wasn't sure what Violet's angle was, nor that I should tell Bev, but now that Violet had intimated that I knew, I couldn't not answer.

"I think, and this is tentative, that I was afraid you would tell me not to go, and because I always did what you said, I'd have given up on the idea. Once the job was confirmed, and I had accepted, it was a fait accompli, and it was safe to tell you."

"I'd never have told you 'no'!" Bev protested.

"I didn't say you would have, just that I was afraid you would, because you were in complete control of every single part of our relationship. And I always gave in to what you wanted."

"You didn't protest, especially on my sixteenth birthday!"

I chuckled, "Right, because what guy in their right mind would turn that down? Or not in their right mind?"

"Was that when you two..." Violet asked, leaving the completely obvious implication hanging.

"Yes," I replied. "Someone surprised me by kissing me for the first time, and one thing led almost immediately to another. Well, first time on the lips, anyway."

"I just don't understand," Bev said.

"Maybe it was irrational fear," I said. "But tell me, when was the first time I demanded you do what I wanted with a clear indication I wouldn't back down?"

"Yesterday. Every other time, if I said I wanted things a particular way, that's how they went."

"I hope you can see why I might have subconsciously worried. You still had a year of High School and wanted to go to UC. If I'd suggested looking for a job in Chicago, don't you think you might have encouraged me to look for one in the Cincinnati area instead?"

"Maybe," Bev admitted. "But who knows at this point because you never gave me the chance."

"I know. And it's been a mess ever since. Besides going to counseling, you're going to accept child support from Glen. I'll call Mr. Chojnicki and have him make the arrangements, with the checks made out to you but sent to my house. I should be able to do that with the legal documents you created."

"I don't want to see him...or my parents."

"That's why the checks would be sent care of me. Short of a stakeout and tailing me, there is no way anyone will know where you are. Well, my mom will because I told her yesterday, but she'll keep my confidence, I'm sure."

"She won't tell Glen?"

"Not unless you or I say it's OK."

"You won't take 'no' for an answer, will you?"

"No. Same as with counseling. And with figuring out your future."

"Not 'our'?"

"'Our' in the sense of you and Heather, yes, but the three of us? You've turned me down three times already and then disappeared without a word."

Bev sighed, "I'm sorry."

"And I accept your apology. Remember, no matter what, I'm here for you. I think the last two days ought to prove that if nothing else has. And that means I'll do anything in my power to help you and Heather and to protect you. But beyond that? That's a future conversation, and probably not just one."

I turned east onto US-36 and checked with Bev when she'd need a stop. She laughed and said that all depended on when Heather needed a diaper. About forty minutes later, we stopped in Chillicothe, Missouri, so she could change Heather's diaper and we could all get bottles of Coke.

We ate lunch in Hannibal, Missouri, and Bev pointed out that was the fictional hometown of Colonel Potter on M✶A✶S✶H. After lunch, we crossed into Illinois, and by my calculations, we'd make the trip in about eight hours, even with stops. True to my estimate, we arrived in Chicago just after 5:00pm.

April 7, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"We need to stop at O'Hare to get my car," I said. "Bev, you'll have to drive your car to Violet's house because she doesn't drive. I promised to teach her, but we never got around to it. Violet, we'll do that this Summer, for sure."

"OK," Bev agreed.

"OK," Violet added.

At O'Hare, I couldn't drive into the parking garage without paying a fee, so I pulled up to Departures, grabbed my bag from the trunk, and Bev got into the driver's seat. They pulled away, and I walked into the terminal, then crossed into the parking garage and retrieved my car. I paid the parking fee at the exit, then headed for Violet's house in University Park. The trip took about eighty minutes because it was rush hour, but I finally made it.

Violet got Bev settled, and thankfully, Bev had her portable bassinet in her trunk, which I carried in and set up in the guest room Bev and Heather would be using. We ordered pizza from Aurelio's, and after we'd eaten and I confirmed that the girls were OK, I headed home.

While driving to Violet's, I remembered something that had completely slipped my mind -- class. I'd arranged to miss Wednesday's class due to the Hawks game, but not today's, which meant I had missed the Wednesday and Thursday assignments and not turned in Monday's as I'd planned. I decided my best course of action was to call Troy after the time class let out to get the assignments, then call my professor in the morning to explain my absence and the missing assignments.

"Hi! Did everything go OK?" Bianca asked when I walked into the house.

"Yes," I replied. "Come upstairs while I unpack, and I'll tell you."

She joined me in my room and sat on the bed while I emptied my suit bag.

"Bev will stay at Violet's for now, and she's agreed to get counseling for her 'baby blues', which the doctor described as 'sub-clinical depression'. According to the doctor, that means Bev doesn't need medication, just counseling. She's also going to accept child support from Glen."

"And Violet is handling this OK?"

"Violet was a champ! She was nervous during takeoff, but once we were airborne, she was OK, and in Kansas, she was nothing short of amazing. Outgoing, funny, intelligent, and completely at ease."

"Uh-oh," Bianca said.

"Don't read anything into that beyond she's coming out of her shell. To illustrate, I received exactly the same hugs and kisses on the cheek, and no hint of even a thought of anything more, and that was despite having connecting rooms."

"The fact that you knew what I meant tells me you think the same thing I do."

"That it's possible Violet might decide she can handle a physically intimate relationship? Sure. I'd still say the odds are against it, though not as heavily against as I would have said a week or two ago. She's still fairly uncomfortable with even inferences about sex. Anyway, she took great delight in telling everyone I was a clueless boy when it came to babies."

"I don't think she's wrong!" Bianca said, laughing. "But I bet you'll learn quickly, just as I will, and anyone else who hasn't cared for a baby."

"Violet's daycare experience came in very handy, that's for sure."

"So you and Bev?"

"I told her directly that I'm offering nothing more than friendship, and everything that's happened since May 1981 raises huge questions about a future together. She has to get counseling, then figure out what she wants to do with her life in terms of where she lives, school, and work. I'll help, but that's the only thing I've committed to. I also made it clear I won't be submissive to her the way I was until basically yesterday."

"That's good, though I prefer when you do what I want."

I chuckled, "You and every other person in my life, not just women!"

I checked my watch and saw that it was late enough I could call Troy and let Bianca know I was going to make the call. She headed downstairs, and I dialed the Maguire's number. Teri answered, and I decided to just ask her.

"What happened to you tonight?" she asked after she'd given me the assignment.

"A friend of mine had an emergency, and I flew to Kansas City to bring her back to Chicago."

"Now that's a real friend! Would you be interested in getting a cup of coffee?"

"I would," I replied. "OK if we discuss on Monday which day? I'm busy this weekend."

"Sure! See you Monday."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then called Josie to let her know I was in town and that our date for Friday was still on, if she was interested. She was, so we agreed we'd meet in the lobby of the Hancock Center at 5:15pm. We ended the call, and I headed downstairs to join my housemates. I gave them a synopsis, leaving out what I considered sensitive details, and after the 10:00pm news, I headed up to bed, accompanied by Bianca, as Thursdays were 'hers'.

"When will Juliette move in?" I asked as we got ready for bed.

"In August, most likely. She's going home to Anaheim after the semester ends. And to answer your next question, I'm happy to invite her to bed with us on Thursdays if that's cool with you."

"I think the correct answer on my part is that it's your night, so it's up to you. And that's not me being submissive, or whatever, just giving you the option."

"What do you want?" Bianca asked. "You almost never answer that question, or if you do, it's 'to make you happy'."

"Which maximizes my happiness because a happy girl is a willing girl!"

"And vice versa!" Bianca said with a soft laugh. "The willing girls are VERY happy. But that answer does fit your utilitarian model. Keeping the girls happy keeps you drowning in a flood of pussy!"

"As I've noted on other occasions, I'm not a complete idiot! Are you and Juli going to be a couple?"

"You mean exclusive with each other and with you?"

"Yes."

"We didn't discuss that, actually. I'm OK either way, and I suspect she is, too. Shelly wanted to be exclusive, so we basically were. Going back to you and Bev -- you don't have to answer, obviously, but are you going to sleep with her?"

"I'll answer," I replied. "I mean, you're my pseudo-wife, after all!"

Bianca laughed softly, "It has worked out that way, hasn't it?"

"Yes, and I'd say you're my most important confidante. To answer your question -- not in the near term. I can't say what happens in the future."

"I was going to suggest that, not because I care who you fuck or don't fuck, but because she seems emotionally fragile."

"I'd say that's spot on," I agreed as Bianca and I got into bed.

"Normally, you ask what I want," Bianca said. "Tonight, I want to know what you want?"

"No athletics because I'm pretty beat after the last forty-eight hours. You on top, then sleep spooned?"

"What do you say? Your wish is my command?"

April 8, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Friday morning, I was refreshed from a good night's sleep, and after a quick shower, I went downstairs to have breakfast with Jack while Bianca went to her room to sleep for a few hours.

"How was the game?" I asked.

"Other than the Hawks losing 4-2, it was awesome. The seats are fantastic. Thanks!"

"That was Murray Matheson," I replied. "I didn't ask him to do that. And they did win 7-2 last night, so hopefully, they'll make the second round. I'll have tickets for the first or second home game, if they do."

"Bears and Bulls as well, right?"

"Yes, and box seats at both baseball stadiums. Being low man, I have limited options, but I will have a chance at tickets. That's not a complaint, mind you, just a fact of life. Changing subjects, any idea what Kristy wants to do tonight?"

"She wants to see The Meaning of Life, a Monty Python movie."

"That works. What about dinner?"

"Star of Siam; she's on a real Thai kick lately."

"The food is great, and the menu is varied, so that works for me."

After we ate, we made our lunches, cleaned up, then left the house, heading for the Hancock Center, listening to 'Murphy in the Morning' on the radio, which we both found to be hilarious. At the office, I repeated what I'd done on Monday, as I'd missed two days and had to catch up, though I finished sooner than I had on Monday.

The morning was busy, I ate lunch at my desk, and then Anna and I left the office to go to the gym in the building.

"You should find someone else to go to Saint Martin with you," she said when we stepped into the elevator.

"I'm sorry, what?!" I asked in complete surprise.

"Just as I said."

"Why?"

"Because you literally dropped everything and went running to Bev when she called you. Nobody can compete with that, and I'm not going to waste time and energy trying."

"That is not what happened," I protested. "Whatever anyone might have told you, and I have to imagine it was Mr. Matheson, Bev did not call me, the police did."

"A difference which doesn't matter. You literally blew off going to an ice hockey match and two days of work because she needed you. And I believe you'll do that again, and again, and again."

"I think you're mistaken, but it sounds as if you've made up your mind."

"I have, because you have."

"I can't go into details, but what should I have done?"

"I don't know? Call her parents? Call her friend in St. Louis? Let the government handle it? Instead, you dropped everything and flew on an expensive ticket the minute she needed you."

"Something I would do for any close friend," I replied. "Bev and I are not dating."

"But she's here in Chicago, isn't she?"

"Yes, but I fail to see the point."

"Of course you do."

I understood Anna's concern, but I felt she should at least let me explain. Unfortunately, she didn't seem receptive, and I decided further discussion was likely futile. The best course of action, as I saw it, was to wait a few days to see if I could convince her she was mistaken. Anna foreclosed that plan, seemingly sensing what I was thinking.

"I'm not going to change my mind," she said as we got off the elevator.

"OK," I replied.

We went to the gym, I went into the locker room, changed, then began my exercise routine with stretching. As I did that, I thought about the situation. There were two takeaways -- first, I was absolutely, positively done with dating anyone from Spurgeon. Second, anything that Murray Matheson knew was likely to spread. In this instance, I hadn't asked him to keep it to himself, but as I saw it, Anna knew far too many details. I wasn't happy with Anna or with Mr. Matheson, but I could also now safely tell Sharon I was not dating anyone from Spurgeon and never would.

That also left open the question of whom to take to Saint Martin. I had many options, and fortunately, I had a bit of time to think about it. Knowing someone could go with just a driver's license meant I didn't have to worry if they didn't have a passport, though I was sure a passport would be easier.

Anna saying she didn't want to go to Saint Martin or 'waste time and energy' implied that our date for Sunday was off, and given everything she'd said, I didn't feel I needed to say anything, as she'd quite clearly ended our relationship. I decided I'd call Teri around 4:00pm to see if she wanted to meet on Sunday afternoon for coffee. I also needed to find time to change the address on my driver's license, which would have to be a week from Saturday, as I was meeting with Violet's counselor this Saturday.

When I finished my exercise routine, I showered, weighed myself, recorded the weight, and then dressed. I decided not to wait for Anna and returned to the office. The afternoon was busy, but I took time just after 2:00pm to call Barnes and Walden to speak to Mr. Chojnicki. He was available, and they put me through to him.

"What can I do for you, Jonathan?"

"I want to speak confidentially," I said.

"We don't have attorney-client privilege, but I'm positive that's not necessary. A confidential conversation is OK."

"Bev is suffering from sub-clinical depression, what a friend of mine called 'baby blues'."

"Postpartum depression," Stefan said. "It's poorly understood and creates all manner of trouble for the women who suffer from it. How is she?"

"She received medical treatment, and she's going to start seeing a counselor. I'm calling because she agreed to accept child support from the baby's father."

"She's going to need to authorize me to proceed."

"I believe I can do that," I said. "I have three documents -- power of attorney, healthcare power of attorney, and assignment of guardianship in the case Bev is not able to care for Heather."

"When and where were those executed?"

"In St. Louis, and they're dated March 3rd."

"What law firm?"

"Kelleher and Daniels. I can give you their number."

"Please do."

I read it off the cover letter that was with the documents.

"Do you need me to fax these to you?"

"No. I'll get copies from the St. Louis firm. I can show them a retainer document to show I'm her attorney of record in the custody case. They'll send them to me. Who is the father?"

"Complete confidentiality, right? You won't reveal this to anyone?"

"Only so far as necessary to take any legal action necessary."

"You won't need to. He's offered to pay and will do so without a court order of any kind."

"We'll need to formalize it, but that can be done in my office with a notary, and I'll file it with the court. Someone would have to know it was there to find it."

"There's no way to do it without that?"

"Not and protect Heather's rights, no. Yes, you could do it, but I strongly advise against it. Who is the father?"

"Glen Rodgers, of Goshen, Ohio. I can give you his address and phone number."

"Please do."

I read the information from my address book.

"What's his relationship with Bev?"

"None. They had a brief affair while she was dating Bob Leahy."

"And he's admitted paternity?"

"Yes. An important point, though -- she does not want him to know where she is, so I'd like him to send the checks to my address but made out to her."

"Where is she?"

"In Chicago, staying with a friend."

"Is Glen going to demand visitation?"

"No."

"You're sure about that?"

"Positive. He'll tell you. He wants to see Heather, but he won't insist as a condition of paying child support."

"It's late on Friday, so I won't start on this until Monday morning. It'll take a few days for me to confirm everything and draw up the agreement. I'm not going to be able to invoice my time to Mr. Newton."

"I'll take care of it. Just send me the invoice, please."

"Let me have Bev's address and phone number, please. It will go into my private, locked files."

I gave it to him, then we ended the call, and I remembered I needed to call my professor. I caught him in his office, explained what had happened, and that I'd turn in my assignments on Monday. He agreed to waive his rule of not accepting late assignments, and once I'd ended the call, I went back to work.

Close to the end of the day, I called Teri. She agreed to meet at the diner in Bridgeport I'd been to in the past. That accomplished, I made a quick call to check on Bev and Heather, and Violet invited me to breakfast before the meeting with the counselor. We'd still have lunch together afterwards, but breakfast would be at her house with Bev and Heather. My final call was to my mom to let her know that Mr. Chojnicki would be in touch with Glen.

"I'll let him know. And I won't say anything to the Newtons, of course."

"I take it from what you just said you're seeing him this weekend?"

"I'm taking your advice, but I won't accept the ring again anytime soon, and maybe never."

"Remember my guiding principle -- he didn't do anything to you, nor did he violate your trust."

"No, he only took advantage of a student."

"I disagree, based on what Bev has said to me. She was seventeen, and he wasn't her teacher. Obviously, though, your opinion is what matters."

"Why are you so gung-ho about me and Glen?"

"Because he made you happier than you've been for my entire life. Don't throw that away because he made what you consider a grave error before you began seeing each other."

"I'll think about it. You should try to convince Bev to get in touch with her parents."

"One step at a time," I said. "Once she receives counseling, I'll work on that. I'm sorry, but I need to go meet Jack, Kristy, and Josie."

"That's a new name."

"I haven't shared the name of every girl I date!"

"Have fun, and I'll talk to you soon. No need to call on Sunday."

We said 'goodbye', I packed up my satchel, then headed down to the garage to stash it in the trunk of the car, taking the elevator back upstairs to meet my friends. Dinner was excellent as always, the movie was hilarious, and we went for ice cream afterwards.

"Interested in spending the night?" I asked Josie when we finished our ice cream.

"Yes! I have my car, so I'll meet you at your house."

"Fair warning, I have to leave the house at 8:00am tomorrow."

"I can deal with that!"

I walked her to her car, and once she had pulled away, I quickly walked back to the Hancock Center to retrieve my car from the parking garage and then headed home.

April 9, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Call me again, please!" Josie said when I walked her to her car on Saturday morning.

"I will, but it might be a few weeks."

"As long as you keep calling, I'll be happy!"

We hugged and exchanged a quick kiss, and once she'd driven off, I walked to my car and headed to Violet's house for breakfast with her, Bev, and Heather.

"How are you two doing?" I asked Bev after Violet greeted me with her usual hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Violet's counselor recommended a support group for single moms. It meets every Tuesday evening, and I'll start going this week."

"Good. I spoke to Mr. Chojnicki, and he's going to make the arrangements for child support. He'll let me know when he has everything set up, which should be at some point next week."

"My parents can never know!" Bev exclaimed.

"And they won't. I'm going to pay for Mr. Chojnicki's time to work things out with Glen so your dad won't get an invoice. And he's your attorney, not your dad's, so he can't tell your dad anything without your permission."

"And your mom won't say anything?"

"Absolutely not. She doesn't have Violet's address, and the only one Glen will have is mine. My mom doesn't know Violet's last name or any details. When you register your car and get an Illinois driver's license, which you need to do within thirty days of moving, you should use my address. That way, even a private investigator won't be able to find your address. Just never put this address on anything."

"That will work?" Violet asked.

"It should. So long as nobody knows your name, and the government only has my address in their records, anyone looking for Bev will show up at my house, and I won't say anything."

"Breakfast is almost ready."

"I'll help," I said.

About five minutes later, we put breakfast on the table and sat down to eat. Bev seemed to be doing OK and visibly relaxed when I explained how she could hide where she was living from her parents. Heather seemed happy, which made me happy, and, overall, it appeared I'd turned a bad situation into one that was conducive to Heather's needs. Having grown up as the kid of a single mom, I understood at least some of the struggles, and without SOME kind of help, Bev and Heather had been at serious risk.

The only direct help my mom had ever accepted was from her friend, who took her in when my grandparents had kicked her out. That had allowed her to finish High School and find a job, and after that, hard work and determination had led to a situation where I could, with Violet's help, do the same for Bev. One thing we'd have to eventually sort out was someone to watch Heather while Bev worked, but that was a concern for another day.

When we finished breakfast, Violet and I cleaned up while Bev cared for Heather. After we finished in the kitchen, Violet and I left the house to walk to the counselor's office on Halsted Avenue.

"How is she?" I asked.

"She's eating OK, taking care of Heather, and she slept about nine hours. She's paranoid about her parents knowing where she is and is afraid they'll find out about Glen."

"I noticed she visibly relaxed when I explained how to keep anyone from finding her. It's not perfect, and someone with the right resources could find her by trailing me until I came here and then staking out your house. I can't imagine her parents have enough money to pay for something like that, and the police aren't going to do anything because she's eighteen and told the FBI she didn't want contact with her parents."

"What does she think her parents will do?"

"I honestly don't know. Ohio's age of consent is sixteen, so Glen can't be charged with a crime. I suspect he'd be fired, given she got pregnant while she was a student, though to avoid a scandal, they might just allow him to resign. Maybe she doesn't want to hurt him?"

"Do you think what he did was wrong?"

"If what Bev has said and implied is true, she flirted with him, he reciprocated, and one thing led to another, which led to Heather sleeping in the bassinet in your house. I have no indication that he did anything that would be wrong in just about any other circumstance. It's the fact that he's a teacher, but she wasn't his student, so I give them both the benefit of the doubt. But that's me, and the School Board might have a different opinion."

"He's so much older than she is."

"Yes, he is, and again, that was Bev's choice. One of the traders at work is in his mid-fifties, and his second wife is twenty-one, and they've been married for two years."

Not to mention Noel Spurgeon's choice of partners for his trysts.

"In my mind," I continued, "the most important thing we can do is not judge others for the choices they make. Yes, if they break the law, they should face the consequences, but that's true of any choice we make. But except in the case of breaking the law, it's really none of anyone's business so long as everyone involved, in whatever it is, consents."

"It doesn't bother you that Glen and your mom were engaged?"

"They weren't at the time, and as I said to my mom, she shouldn't hold a choice Glen made before they started dating against him. Maybe there are other reasons to not marry him, but I'd hate to think that one of my past relationships would be enough for someone to break up with me when it had nothing to do with them.

"I can give you a perfect example -- before Bev started acting strangely, I was ready to marry her and treat Heather as if she was my daughter, and the fact that Bev had been with Bob was her choice, one I wouldn't count against her. Believe it or not, I wouldn't count her being with Glen against her, either. Any future partner of mine would have to see things the same way, in the sense that anything that happened before isn't really any of their business."

"But what if you had a kid with someone and didn't marry her? Wouldn't that matter to the girl you did marry?"

"If that was something a girl couldn't handle, I'd never marry her. And you know I have no problem with the concept of out-of-wedlock births, though I wouldn't advise it."

"Because that's how you were born."

"Exactly. Fundamentally, people are WAY too concerned about what other people are doing in their private lives. That's one of my biggest problems with organized religion. I mean, if someone wants to believe the story and try to apply the teachings of some person in the past to their life, that's great. But don't try to apply them to me or condemn me because I don't agree."

"I don't believe in God, either."

For what I thought were very good reasons -- any purportedly all-powerful, good being who allowed the kind of abuse Violet and Rose had suffered deserved not to be worshiped, but reviled.

"May I make an observation?" I asked.

"About?"

"You. Remember what I said about how you were behaving? Well, we just had a conversation you never would have been able to have in the past. Also, before, you often seemed to be going through the motions, but now you seem to be truly enjoying your life."

"I enjoyed the things we did together!" Violet protested. "Hockey, baseball, and meals."

"I'm not saying you didn't, just that you weren't enjoying life the way you are now. It was a daily struggle, and now you spend less time thinking about the past and more about the future."

"That's something Nancy has focused on in trying to help me control my panic attacks. That was one reason I was taking medication for so long."

We reached the two-story building where Violet's counselor had her office, and we went in. There was no receptionist, and a small sign said to take a seat, which we did. About two minutes later, a woman in her mid-thirties came out of an office.

"Hi, Violet! And this must be Jonathan!"

I stood and extended my hand.

"Jonathan Kane."

"Nancy Jane Moore. Welcome. I'd like to speak to Violet for about ten minutes, then I'll speak to you, if that's OK?"

"It is," I replied.

I sat back down, and Violet and Nancy went into the office and shut the door. I picked up a copy of the most recent Newsweek and paged through it, but in my role, week-old news was basically useless, and I was aware of most of it, so I only read a few analysis articles. It was nearly twenty minutes before Violet came out and directed me into the office.

"Have a seat wherever you're comfortable," Nancy said.

"So, you'll get up from your leather desk chair so I can sit there?" I asked with a grin.

Nancy laughed, "Violet did describe you as what my grandmother would have called 'a real pistol'! Either the couch or one of the other chairs. I'd prefer you didn't sit on my desk, credenza, or the floor."

I smiled and sat down in a comfortable chair, and Nancy came to sit next to me in an identical one.

"I apologize for taking twice as long as I'd intended, but I had no idea about what happened the last few days."

"Violet didn't tell you about it beforehand?"

"That's not typical in the kind of counseling I'm doing. Her psychiatrist would likely have insisted on knowing in advance."

"And she would have talked Violet out of it, or tried to, anyway, which would have actually made things worse, not better."

"Why do you say that?"

"Violet really came out of her shell on the trip, so not going would have been bad, but worse would have been going knowing her counselor had told her not to, which would have made her tentative and reserved."

"Violet made it clear that you didn't like her psychiatrist."

"Because I felt she was holding Violet back, and I'd say events have proven me correct."

"You took a big risk suggesting Violet stop seeing her."

"Taking risks is the core of my job, but they're calculated. And in Violet's case, I was positive the benefits outweighed the risks. In my mind, the worst-case scenario was that Violet would need medication, but I didn't think so. Doctor Lochner was convinced I had ulterior motives, and that was the only thing I cared about. I believe events have proven her wrong."

"May I ask a few personal questions? You don't have to answer, and I won't make any judgments either way."

"Ask your questions," I said. "My goal is to help Violet, and you asking me about my sex life and intentions is in line with that."

Nancy laughed, "Violet also said you were very perceptive. She says you're dating several girls."

"I believe they call it 'playing the field'. I go out with different girls, though there's a small group I go out with more often."

"I infer from things Violet said that you're intimate with some of these young women?"

"You could say that," I replied with a smile.

"Have you and Violet done anything intimate?"

"Nothing beyond her hugging me and kissing my cheek."

"Implying you don't hug her back or kiss her cheek?"

"Correct. I know her story, and the last thing I want to do is make her uncomfortable in any way. I made that mistake once."

"The chewing gum?"

"Yes."

"I know this will sound like a dad interrogating a date, but what are your intentions?"

"To be Violet's friend, to help her, guide her, and protect her. I only agreed with Doctor Lochner on one thing -- the trauma Violet suffered was such that she might never be able to have an intimate relationship."

"May I correct a misimpression?"

"Sure."

"You and Violet have a very intimate relationship; it's just not physical. She shares things with you she has never shared with anyone until she spoke to your friend Bev on Wednesday in the hospital. On that, I want to confirm that the baby is not yours."

"Heather is not mine. I do know who the father is, and I have since January. Bev revealed that to Violet on Wednesday."

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but you're telling the truth? This isn't some kind of fiction?"

"I'm not offended that you'd ask that question because it's perfectly legitimate. Everything I've said is true, and I'm sure what Bev said to Violet is true based on things Violet said to me and asked about."

"You know why Violet is seeing me, right?"

"To deal with her propensity to have panic attacks. She had been medicated, but Doctor Lochner had stopped that. I believe Violet had a few close calls with having an attack, then had one when her mom was released on parole. According to Violet, you believe in short-term counseling to teach coping strategies, not semi-permanent, or even permanent, counseling."

"My goal is always to help those I'm counseling achieve their goals and to cope with stress, not address true mental illness. As you can imagine, Violet had a very stressful upbringing and is still suffering from that stress."

"I think what she suffered beggars belief and I'm not sure my imagination is active enough to even begin to contemplate what happened to her, assuming I didn't get so sick to my stomach thinking about it that I couldn't function."

"I think the only term that works is 'heinous crime'. In any event, what you're doing for Violet is a good thing. I have one more question for you, and I am not trying to imply anything, nor am I asking because of anything Violet said or did -- have you thought about what you would do if Violet were to try to change the nature of your relationship?"

"Not really, because it's not something I expected to happen, based on the totality of what I've observed and what she's said. But, after this week, I suppose I do need to give it real consideration. May I ask a question?"

"Yes?"

"You said it's not based on anything Violet has said or implied, so why ask?"

"Biology!" Nancy said with a soft laugh. "Young men and young women tend to think about those things starting in their early teens. If Violet is indeed coming out of her shell as you say, and I think she is, at some point, that might well cross her mind in a way other than being afraid. As I said, it's not something I've observed, just something that fits what we all know about teens and young adults: hormones -- that is biology -- are a VERY strong driver."

"My very existence proves that!" I chuckled. "What you said was true even in 1962, when birth control wasn't readily available! Not to mention Heather's existence!"

"I'm not saying this will ever happen, but for Violet's sake, you should be ready in case it does."

"Could she handle it?" I asked.

"I can't answer that any more than her psychiatrist could. Only Violet could possibly answer that question, and it's very likely she doesn't know. But if you think about it, all teenage and young adult relationships are like that. Until you're faced with a real choice and act on that choice, you have no idea how you'll feel afterwards. And even that can change with time. Let me leave you with this thought -- if Violet were a typical nineteen-year-old girl, what do you think she would do?"

"She's not a typical nineteen-year-old girl."

"No, she's not, but she can cope with what happened and be much more like a typical teenage girl than she was before. And that's a good thing. What happens next is anyone's guess."

XXXVI. Out in the Open

April 9, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"What did you think?" Violet asked when we left Nancy's office about twenty minutes later after Violet had spoken privately with her again.

"I think she's much better than Doctor Lochner," I replied. "I think she's what you need at this point."

"What did she talk to you about, if it's OK to ask?"

"Of course, it's OK to ask! I was there for you! Mainly, we talked about our relationship and the success you've had recently. We also spoke a bit about Bev, and Nancy asked me some questions about me. It was very different from speaking to Doctor Lochner."

"Did you like her?"

"Yes. And I think she has your best interest at heart. What did you want to do about lunch?"

"Our usual place?" Violet asked. "I think I have withdrawal, not being there since Monday!"

I laughed, then said, "That's fine."

"What about Bev?"

"It's up to you," I said. "You and I agreed to have lunch together. Bev needs our help, but I don't want her to interfere with our friendship."

"Just you and me, if that's OK," Violet requested.

"Of course it is!"

We went to the diner by Circle and had lunch together, then walked back to her house. I checked on Bev, then, in a turnabout of normal, Violet walked me to my car. She gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then I got in, waved, and headed for home.

Only Deanna and Keiko were home, and Deanna was painting in her combination bedroom/studio while Keiko was doing homework in the front room. Rather than disturb them further, I picked up the morning Chicago Tribune and the weekend edition of the Wall Street Journal and sat down on the couch in the great room to read.

About an hour later, Keiko came into the great room.

"I've finished my homework," she said.

"What would you like to do today?" I asked.

"Would you like to see Poltergeist? It's showing at the theatre in Downers Grove that shows second-run movies."

"Sure."

"There's an inexpensive but authentic Italian place not too far from the theatre."

"Sounds good to me."

I enjoyed the movie and the meal, and Keiko spent the night with me.

April 10, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Sunday, Keiko and I slept in, had a late breakfast, and hung out with our housemates until 1:30pm, when I left to meet Teri at the diner in Bridgeport.

"Hi, Jonathan," Candace said when I walked in.

"Hi. I'll want a booth for two, please, though I'll wait here for my date."

"How is your supervisor's job?"

"I'm actually an analyst now."

"I've never heard of anyone moving up that fast! That's seriously impressive!"

"Thanks. Wasn't your hair black last time?"

It was now bleached blonde.

"I like to change it up. Want to see the natural color?"

I chuckled, "My date will be here shortly."

Teri walked in then, and Candace seated us in a booth. We both ordered coffee but nothing to eat.

"How's your friend?" Teri asked.

"She's doing OK," I replied.

"She?"

"I'm sure I said it was a 'her' when we spoke on the phone. It's the girl I was best friends with growing up. She got pregnant after I moved to Chicago and had some problems at home."

"Her parents kicked her out?" Teri asked.

"No. It's complicated, and I can't really violate her privacy."

"I can respect that. While I obviously don't know the details, don't you think that confirms my point about pre-marital sex?"

"It is certainly a risk," I replied. "Not to get into a lengthy debate, but the risk is small with appropriate birth control. But that's my perspective, and I'm a guy."

"Whose priority is bedding as many girls as possible?"

"That is not my priority, and you know I don't accept externally imposed moral standards for consensual behavior where nobody is breaking the law nor being harmed."

Teri smirked, "Well, then you should stop having sex because pre-marital and extra-marital sex are illegal in Illinois!"

"A friend mentioned that but also pointed out that the laws are not enforced and, if I understand what the Supreme Court has said about birth control, unenforceable. I did check into it, and the law requires it to be 'open and notorious', which means it's public knowledge. So, while you're technically correct, I'd say those laws are basically dead letters."

"And yet..." Teri replied.

"Why are we having this debate?" I asked. "Honestly, you know my position and I know yours, and neither of us is willing to compromise enough to, in effect, meet in the middle."

"You don't see any possible way forward?" she asked.

"Propose one you think would work," I challenged.

"What if I agreed to go to bed with you?"

"You asked that before, though I have had some time to think about it since then. My first reaction would be to say you aren't asking a serious question, given everything you've said. But if we assume it is a serious question, and at the risk of giving offense at the use of the concept, the price you would extract is too high. It would, as I see it, be a commitment to marry you, and relatively soon. I am not ready to make that commitment to anyone. Even if I was, I'd have to ask how you're so sure I'm the right guy?"

"Intelligent, nice, successful, and good-looking is basically the sweet spot."

"I'd say common interests, a common worldview, and common goals are necessary as well."

"Two of those aren't a concern, at least as far as I understand you. We both want to marry, have kids, and basically live the typical middle-class American life, though having more money would be a major plus."

"The disparate worldviews are the sticking point," I replied. "I don't think there's a need to belabor the topic because we've beaten it to death. Let me ask you a practical question -- you plan to attend UofI in the Fall. How would that work in your hypothetical future where we married?"

"I'd change my plans so I could stay in Chicago. Obviously, there are other schools I could attend, even if I had to take a gap year."

"What about your brother? You guys do everything together."

Teri laughed, "Yes, but do you see him on our dates? And I'm absolutely not bringing him on my honeymoon!"

"Good to know," I chuckled. "But on a serious note, there is still the obstacle of my readiness for a lifetime commitment."

"I was under the impression that was malleable."

"It is, in the sense that I don't have a specific date in mind, only a general idea."

"And the difference between now and then?" Teri asked. "I mean, you own a house and have a good job where you make quite a bit of money, so what would change?"

"I'd be older and have more life experience," I said.

"Translation -- time to bed as many girls as possible before you're tied down."

"I can understand why you'd see it that way, but it's really about knowing myself and ensuring a potential partner and I are compatible."

"Translation -- she's good in bed."

"Why do you always think it's about sex?" I asked.

"Because you do!"

"You're the one who raised the topic today," I countered. "In fact, I'd say you are fixated on sex, not me. You've made sex the impediment in every scenario you feel is acceptable. In other words, you demand I stop having sex with anyone, and you won't go to bed with me until our wedding night. Your solution to my concern about an extended period of abstinence on my part is marriage in June or July. At this point, we're just going around in circles. If this were a year or two from now, and we knew each other better, I'd give serious consideration to marriage. But two months from now? That's too soon for a number of reasons."

"I'll counter by saying that it's your desire to have sex that forces the issue."

"And round and round we go!" I said, voicing my exasperation.

"So that's it?" Teri asked.

"There is a way forward," I said. "We date, platonically, and see what happens."

"So you can have your cake and eat it, too?" Teri asked.

"May I point out that you're pursuing me? You asked me to have coffee today and made it clear you're still interested. I'm interested enough to keep seeing you, and I accept your decision not to have sex before your wedding night. Fundamentally, the ball is in your court. What do you want to do?"

Teri was quiet for a good five minutes, and Candace refilled our coffee cups during the lengthy silence.

"Ask me out," she said.

"Next Saturday?"

"Pick me up at 5:00pm?"

"Yes. Dinner and a movie, assuming something we want to see is playing?"

"It's a date."

We finished our coffee, I paid Candace, left a generous tip as we'd only had coffee, and then we left the diner. I walked Teri to her car, and once she'd driven away, I headed home.

April 13, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Wednesday morning, I scanned the front page of the Tribune to see that Congressman Washington had won the mayoral election, though it had been very close; too close, in fact. The only reason it was that close was that Bernard Epton had run a blatantly racist campaign with the slogan Epton for Mayor: Before It's Too Late. Epton had taken 48% of the vote, unheard of for a Republican. On the way to work, we heard that Ed Vrdolyak and Ed Burke were going to block Washington's agenda in the City Council.

Shortly after 9:00am, Johan Maus from Nexis arrived with a technician to install the service on my IBM PC/XT. It took the technician an hour to install the software and configure it and for me to run several test searches and ensure I could read the published content. The only downside I could see was that the Wall Street Journal wasn't available, as that belonged to Dow Jones, the competing service.

The rest of the morning was typical, and the Nexis system, combined with Bloomberg, allowed me to be more thorough in my research. At noon, I went to work out in the gym but didn't wait for Anna, as she was basically giving me a cold shoulder. At the end of the day, I headed to Violet's house to have dinner with her, Bev, and Heather.

"How was your support group yesterday?" I asked Bev when we sat down to eat.

"It was OK. I'm going to meet with the woman who facilitates it tomorrow for a one-on-one session."

"That's good. What do you do during the day?"

"Care for Heather, of course, including making a pediatrician appointment for her for early June when she turns one."

"That's good."

"Also, I called the Secretary of State, and I need something that has your address on it."

"I'll have Mr. Chojnicki send you a letter there. Will that suffice?"

"Yes. They said I simply need a piece of mail."

"And how are you doing?"

"I can't say I'm good, but I feel better."

"Good. Focus on taking care of Heather and yourself."

"I should have listened to you back in January."

"Water under the bridge," I said. "Focus on the future, not on the past."

"How do you do that so easily?" Bev asked. "You've always looked forward."

"Because we can't change the past, only learn from it. Dwelling on it does no good."

We finished our meal, and Bev fed Heather while Violet and I cleaned up, then left for class.

"She seems to be doing OK," I said.

"I think so," Violet replied. "I just..."

"What?" I asked after a few seconds of silence.

"Please don't be upset, but I miss dinner being just you and me."

"Why would you telling me that you feel that way upset me?" I asked.

"Because you and Bev..."

Once again, she let the words hang, so after a few seconds, I responded.

"Are friends," I said. "Nothing more. And you telling me how you feel is a good thing; a very good thing. Are you regretting offering to allow her to move in?"

"No way! I was just saying things changed because she's there."

"I don't know if this is a consolation, but we do have our date for the Hawks game on Friday."

"Date?"

"Sorry, that word just kind of slipped out. Fridays are my usual date night when I double with Kristy and Jack, though this week you and I are going to the Hawks game. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"You didn't. I was just surprised because you've never used that word before. Do you want to go on a date with me?"

"May I say something that might...no, you know what? I'm going to treat you the way I would anyone else. You and I have been dating, at least from the perspective of outsiders, for over a year. We didn't call it that, obviously, but it's more than just friendship."

"But..." Violet began, then stopped. "You're comparing it to you and Bev, where you didn't acknowledge your relationship, aren't you?"

I nodded, "The situations aren't identical, but I think we just both acknowledged something that's true. And having it out in the open is a good thing. I'll also point out that if I'd said that even a month ago, you'd have become agitated and nervous."

Violet took a deep breath, then let it out.

"I love you," she said quietly, "but I don't know if I can ever..."

"I love you, too," I replied. "And that doesn't depend on anything other than you being a close, intimate friend."

"You want to, right?" she asked. "With me?"

She had asked that question before, tentatively, but this time, her voice didn't quiver. I'd prevaricated when she'd asked it, but the events of the last week made it clear to me that Violet deserved a straightforward, clear, honest answer.

"When you asked that question before, I hedged because I was concerned about how you would react. I don't have that same concern now, so I'll give you a straight answer -- yes, I do. I'm attracted to you, and under just about any other circumstance, I believed we'd be boyfriend and girlfriend, and I'd be very happy."

"You'd give up Bev?" Violet asked.

"There is nothing to give up," I replied. "In the same way, I promised you that I'll always be there for you, I'll always be there for Bev. May I be completely honest and have you keep what I say between us?"

"Yes, of course!" Violet declared.

"I am in no way minimizing my own failings, but when Bev left home and didn't come here, despite my offering, several times, and then disappeared from St. Louis without a word, that changed things, probably irrevocably. What you don't know is that I directly offered marriage or her moving in with me three times, and three times she turned me down flat, and one other time her answer was 'give me some time'.

"After what happened last week, where she didn't get in touch with me despite needing help, well, the relationship, such as it was, is sundered. That's not to say I won't be her friend, even a very close friend, but at this point, I honestly don't think there's much chance for us to be together as a couple. Could it happen? Sure. Is it likely to happen? No."

"And Lily?" Violet asked.

"Lily and I are both dating. She's seeing other guys, and I'm seeing other girls. Neither of us is ready to make a commitment."

"But you would with me?"

"I already have," I replied. "A lifetime one. It's just not exclusive because of, and I'm simply going to state it clearly, the emotional and psychological abuse you suffered. I don't blame you, and I don't regret one moment of our time together. I'm just being cognizant of your situation."

"No regrets at all?"

"None."

"Not even the chewing gum?" she asked with a slight smile.

I chuckled, "No, because I have a feeling that had I not done that, we'd probably not be where we are now. It was what led you to open up about what had happened."

"I want to be with you that way," Violet said quietly. "I just don't think I can."

"I understand completely, even if I don't understand completely; if that makes sense."

"You mean because you can't put yourself in my shoes?"

"I don't think my size eleven feet will fit into your size six shoes!"

Violet laughed, which was what I'd intended.

"That's not what I meant, you goofball!" she said as we reached the building where she had her class.

"I know that! But to answer your question, yes. I can't even begin to understand how you feel. I'm sorry, but we'll need to continue this after class, if you want."

Violet nodded, gave me a quick hug, went into the building and I continued on to the building where my math class was held. I was happy that I'd finally had the talk with Violet that Shelly and Bianca had both encouraged, though it was only the start, and I had no idea where it might lead.

After class, Violet and I had coffee and pie at the diner but didn't pick up the conversation. That was OK, but I needed time to think about it, as I was sure she did. After I walked her home, I got into my car to drive to Rogers Park.

As was the new normal, I changed clothes, then joined my housemates to watch the 10:00pm news, where the rumblings from the white aldermen were now stated more clearly, and I was positive Chicago politics were going to be very interesting in the coming months.

At 10:30pm, after the news, I asked Bianca if we could chat briefly before bed. We left the great room where we had the TV and went to the front room.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Violet and I had a very open and frank conversation. She said she loves me, and I said it back to her, though I'm not sure it will lead to anything. I did admit to her that we'd been dating, even if we hadn't called it that. In a sense, it's similar to the way I refused to acknowledge the character of my relationship with Bev."

"How did Violet react?"

"She acknowledged what I was saying and asked if I wanted to go to bed with her."

"Whoa!" Bianca gasped.

"Not as an invitation," I replied. "But as a question of what I wanted. She'd asked before, tentatively, and I gave her a wishy-washy answer. This time, I simply said that I did."

"And?"

"She said she wanted to, which didn't surprise me, but also said she wasn't sure she could ever do it, which also didn't surprise me. She asked about Bev and me, and I told her the truth -- that the way Bev has behaved recently makes it extremely unlikely I'd be with her."

"Bev is dealing with psychological trauma as well, even if it's not as bad as Violet's."

"True, but Violet sought me out and asked for help, even though she didn't really know me. Bev, on the other hand, ran away twice, not to mention rejecting all of my overtures."

"You don't think she was just embarrassed because your mom's boyfriend is Heather's dad?"

"With everyone else on the planet? Sure. With me? That makes no sense. She's been behaving irrationally since, well, I suspect since her affair with Glen, and maybe that was irrational as well. Violet, on the other hand, has been behaving rationally and consistently for as long as I've known her."

"Now what?"

"I wait and see. I'm in no rush to commit to anyone, so it's not as if there's a timeline. After today's conversation, I'm convinced that Violet will be able to answer the question about physical intimacy honestly when the time comes for me to decide."

"So she wins if she can?"

"You said that was obvious a year ago!"

"How is she going to react to you going to Saint Martin with Anna?"

"I'm not going to Saint Martin with Anna."

"Wait! What?!"

"I haven't had a chance to speak privately with you, but on Friday, Anna broke things off because, in her words, I dropped everything and ran to Bev when she called. I tried to explain, but Anna wasn't buying any of it. She's convinced that all Bev has to do is ask, and I'll drop anything and everything for her."

"But you would."

"The same as I would for you, or Violet, or Jack. Except the more I think about it, the less I'm sure about that."

"Meaning?"

"My main focus, and the reason I literally dropped everything, was Heather, not Bev."

"You treat her almost as if she was your daughter."

"Weirdly, I feel some amount of responsibility for her, even though she's not my biological daughter. I suspect it's tied up in my remorse for how I treated Bev towards the end of my Senior year when I made the arrangements for the job with Spurgeon."

"I can see that because it totally fits your personality. You draw straight lines from one event to the next and tie them all together. I'm positive that's one of the traits that makes you a good analyst, and it also fits your primary virtue -- honesty. You don't try to shirk responsibility for outcomes that, in your mind, can be traced directly to your own actions. The difference from most people is that you don't wallow in guilt. You acknowledge what happened, learn from it, and move forward."

"That is the ideal, though I don't always hit it."

"I'm curious: does Violet know you're having sex with other girls?"

"I'm positive she knows about Lily and me, certainly by inference, but I suspect Lily also acknowledged it to Violet."

"I'm surprised you use the word 'dating' to refer to Violet because in Jonathan speak, 'dating' means 'fucking'. You don't call your lunches with Anala, your outings with Marcia, or your meetings with Jeri, 'dates'."

"An interesting observation, but I have gone on dates with Teri."

"And her knees are still firmly pressed together!"

"Which is, of course, her prerogative. When we had coffee yesterday, we discussed things, and I'm seeing her next Saturday, but I set the ground rules."

"I'd tease you and say, 'Fuck or get out', but I know you better than that! What ground rules?"

"We see each other occasionally and see how things go, but I'm not going to make any lifetime commitments in the short term, and I'm also not going to sign up for an extended period of abstinence. I pointed out that she was the one who was pursuing me and made it clear that the ball was in her court. If she wants to see me on my terms, then OK."

"That won't last long," Bianca observed. "I believe, without knowing her very well, that she believes she has a lure you won't be able to resist! What she doesn't know is that there are so many fish in your sea that her lure just isn't as effective as she thinks it is!"

"You mix metaphors with the best of them!" I chuckled. "I strongly suspect she'll meet someone when she goes to UofI, and that will be that."

"So, who's the lucky girl to go with you to Saint Martin?"

"I haven't given it much thought. I figure I need to decide by the end of April, and I can always postpone the trip if I need more time."

"Ask Mr. Spurgeon if you can take five or six of us with you! Make him green with envy!"

I chuckled, "An interesting idea, but I have the strong impression that Mr. Spurgeon gets all the teenage nookie he can handle and then some! And speaking of teenage nookie, I'm sure Deanna is waiting for me."

"We need to make time to talk besides Thursday nights."

"I agree. Remember, I'm having dinner with Marcia tomorrow, but I won't be late."

"OK."

We hugged, kissed, and I went to find Deanna, who had gone up to her room. I climbed the stairs and stuck my head through the opening in the ceiling that led to her loft studio/bedroom.

"Want to come to bed?" I asked.

"Give me twenty minutes, please. I'm almost done with this piece."

"OK," I agreed.

I went to my room, got ready for bed, then slid under the sheet and duvet and read The Economist while waiting for her.

"Sorry," she said, coming into my room almost thirty minutes later. "It took a bit longer than I expected."

"It's not a problem," I replied. "I always have plenty of reading to do."

She slipped off her robe and climbed naked into bed with me.

"I want to apologize again for last Tuesday," I said.

"No need," Deanna said. "You had a legitimate reason and did a good thing helping your friend. How are she and her baby doing?"

"OK, I think. Bev started going to a support group for single moms that Violet's counselor recommended, and she's also going to a one-on-one with the counselor who leads that group."

"Violet hasn't had another panic attack?"

"No. I think the news she received would have made anyone panic for obvious reasons. I doubt anything that shocking can happen again. How is CeCi?"

"Fine. She's planning to move to Chicago in June and is very much looking forward to our planned experiment!"

"As are you!"

"Well, at least ONE part of it!" Deanna exclaimed. "But we all agreed, and I think the trade is worth it! Basically, I want to do that badly enough that I'll gladly participate. Your motivations are different -- you want to make me happy."

"I'll actually admit a morbid curiosity, even if I'm not enamored with the idea."

"It'll be the most extreme thing you've ever done, right?"

"I'd say so, but having sex with large groups of girls is pretty extreme, don't you think?"

"From whose perspective? Ours? Or society's?"

"Good point. Not from ours, for sure. Did you have a request for tonight?"

"The usual... sixty-nine, screw, but cum in my mouth, then spoon and sleep."

"Sounds good to me!"

April 14, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Mr. Chojnicki called just after lunch on Thursday to let me know that he and Glen had met, that Glen had signed the necessary documents, and that Glen would begin sending checks on the 15th of each month.

"Glen reiterated that he wants to see Heather," Mr. Chojnicki said. "But he won't force the issue."

"Which is what he said when he admitted paternity."

"I didn't realize the relationships, nor his position."

"I didn't feel the relationship with my mom was material to the conversation, and I assumed he'd tell you, which he obviously did. As for his relationship with Bev, that was completely consensual, and she wasn't one of his students at the time."

"You don't disapprove?"

"My approval, or lack thereof, is irrelevant," I replied. "The only people whose opinions matter are Bev's and Glen's. And so long as Bev isn't claiming she was seduced against her will or coërced, it shouldn't be anyone's business because she was over sixteen. My mom's opinion only matters insofar as it affects her relationship with Glen."

"I disagree, but there's no need for the two of us to get into a lengthy debate. I'll send copies of the documents to your address, along with a letter outlining the terms in plain language rather than legalese. Do you know if Bev plans to stay in Chicago?"

"I have no idea what she plans to do," I replied. "If she were to ask my opinion, I'd advise her to go home, reconcile with her parents, go back to school, and allow Heather to meet Glen."

"I think that would be the best all around, for everyone's sake," Mr. Chojnicki said. "The reason I asked is that she'll need to get an Illinois driver's license and register her car. I don't know the local rules, but most places require you to do that expeditiously if you're taking up residence other than as a student or are on some kind of temporary assignment and maintain residence in your home state."

"I've already discussed that with her and she's going to use my address for her license and registration, as well as her bank account."

"I don't know how Illinois law works, so you might want to check with Mr. Boyd. That said, if you do handle it that way, make absolutely sure she tells her insurance company that the car is not kept at your address but where she actually lives. If she doesn't do that, they could deny any claims."

"I'll let her know."

"I'll send my invoice in a separate envelope addressed to you. Everything else will be in a larger envelope addressed to Bev."

"Thanks for all your help. I appreciate it."

"Encourage Bev to call me, please."

"I will."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up and went back to work. At the end of the day, I left to meet Marcia at Maxim's, where we went to the lower level and were seated in a booth.

"Your boss just barely eked out a victory," I said. "Less than four percentage points."

"I still can't believe how racist this city is, and if it weren't for the Lakefront liberals on the Gold Coast, Epton might actually have won."

"Fortunately, he didn't. What happens now?"

"I was assigned to the transition team as the lead on city agencies that serve the public directly."

"That's great! Do you know what job you'll have once Congressman Washington is sworn in?"

"As a deputy to the CEO of the Chicago Housing Authority, which fits my constituent services role."

"That's going to be a heck of a challenge," I replied. "They're still in receivership, and to say the infrastructure is a mess is to be kind."

"I know. I'll work for Zirl Smith, who will be appointed CEO. Please keep that to yourself, as it's not public."

"My lips are sealed," I replied. "Are you excited?"

"By the challenge? Yes, but as you say, it's a complete mess."

"If you want my opinion, find a way to tear down the projects and use scattered-site housing and vouchers. Those high-rise buildings are nightmarish."

"I agree, but, well, there's no money, as you noted. I think the key is listening to the residents, which nobody has really done, despite Jane Byrne's stint living in Cabrini-Green."

"Did anything actually come of that?" I asked.

"No. It was purely a publicity stunt which had no real effect," Marcia said. "I do give Byrne credit for two things -- special events and the handgun ban."

"I think a blanket ban on new registrations violates the 2nd Amendment, but I come from what you might call 'gun country' and had a gun from the time I was little. I suspect you have a different view."

"Obviously. You seem a lot less tense than you did when we were last together."

"I am, though a lot has happened since then that you don't know about."

"Oh?"

I explained, in broad terms, what had happened with Bev and Heather.

"It sounds as if you're off the market, then."

"No," I replied. "That's not the case. In fact, quite the opposite."

"Implying you and Bev are done?"

"Simply a realistic assessment of the situation and being honest with myself."

"What you said during our conversation at your house."

"Yes. I'm a straight shooter with everyone else, so it was absolutely time to be a straight shooter with myself."

"You can be pretty blunt at times."

"I tend to have better outcomes that way."

"What about being honest with me?"

"I was."

"No, you danced around saying what you thought about our one night together."

"Nothing I said was untrue, and there was no point in hurting you needlessly."

"How does that jibe with you being blunt?"

"I think the best way to put it is that I'm as direct as necessary to get my point across. Most of the time, that's just presenting the facts. But I also know how to say things in a more diplomatic way when necessary. Remember my goal -- maintaining our friendship. I was as direct as the circumstances allowed while preserving our friendship. In a few instances, and I cannot reveal the who or why, I've been extremely direct, but again, the goal was the same -- preserving the relationship by drawing clear lines."

"And the line for us?"

"There is no specific line," I replied. "I feel we can be good friends and help each other, but I'm not sure we'd be good life partners."

"Because I was boring in bed."

"That's not it at all!" I protested. "That's something easily remedied, if you were willing. What isn't easily remedied is your view of what I do and my, from your perspective, lack of morals with regard to making insane profits. Our politics are relatively close, except on that topic. I'm too much of a greedy capitalist, and you're too much of a socialist. That would be a sticking point between us for the rest of our lives.

"You don't approve of what I do, or at least not the way I do it and the amount of money I'm likely to make. You believe people like Noel Spurgeon need to be taken down a peg or three and have significant portions of their wealth confiscated and their profits limited. Short sales are just one example of things you find morally repugnant that I'll have to do routinely. "

"Harsh," Marcia said.

"And yet, accurate. Or do you dispute any of that?"

"I can't, really."

"So we continue on as friends, and we help each other where and when we're able."

"I hate to admit that your analysis is accurate, and that doesn't surprise me. It just sucks. Can I ask you a hypothetical question?"

"Sure, but any answer I give is equally hypothetical."

"Would better sex have made a difference?"

"Not unless it somehow changed your views on the immorality of the way I make money, which I don't believe it could or would."

"No, it wouldn't," Marcia admitted.

"Then we're at exactly the right place."

We had a nice meal, and after I dropped Marcia at her townhouse, I headed home. I arrived just as Hill Street Blues began, and after I changed, I sat down to watch with Keiko, Bianca, Jack, and Kristy. The show was interesting, but there were continuing stories for which I had no context, which made it less enjoyable. After it ended, we watched the 10:00pm news, then Bianca and I headed up to my room.

"Have you considered what happens if, at some point in the future, Violet has a relapse?" Bianca asked.

"It's a risk I don't have any reasonable way of evaluating," I replied. "I don't know that I'll ever have a way to evaluate the risk. Think about it a different way -- doesn't every relationship come with inherent risks which can't really be quantified and might not even be known?"

"You mean divorce?"

"Or death, or cheating, or a host of other things that you simply have to accept as possible without being able to fairly assess the odds of them occurring. Let's say you and I marry. Do I have any guarantee that you'll want to have sex with me for the rest of our lives?"

"Oh, come on!" Bianca exclaimed, rolling her eyes.

"OK, let me rephrase -- what happens if I have an accident that results in me not being able to have sex or have children? Wouldn't that change things, given your desire to have a kid and to have sex?"

"I see your point, but isn't that the point of commitment?"

"Yes, of course! But that forces the question -- what do you do when your commitment is at odds with your needs? Or your desires? Maybe nothing changes, but you don't know that for sure, and that's why the risk assessment is, in effect, impossible. Granted, I know the risk with Violet, but who's to say anyone else won't have some emotional baggage?

"And, in a sense, with Violet, I actually know about the risk, so I can consider it when I decide what to do. Perhaps counterintuitively, that's a better situation than not knowing because I'll have already had in my mind that it's a real possibility, not just some hypothetical."

"Your mind works in strange ways," Bianca observed. "I see your point, but it feels as if you're assuming facts not in evidence."

"Am I? How many marriages end in divorce? A good percentage, and I bet you the vast majority of them didn't see that as a real possibility before reality smacked them in the face. Or, what are the odds that a fifteen-year-old girl from Goshen, Ohio, would meet a traveling salesman from Kansas City, get pregnant, and find out he had died when a bomb blew up the plane on which he was flying?"

"Pretty small."

"And yet, it happened. It's like playing the lottery -- the odds of any specific ticket winning are tiny, but someone eventually wins. It makes no sense at all to risk even a buck on the lottery from a statistical perspective, yet, if you don't play, you can't win. But at least there, I can rely on statistics to tell me what my chances are. I sure can't do that with relationships. Heck, I can't even do that with investments because there are always unknowns that I don't even know about!"

"Sorry, I missed something there."

"One thing Mr. Matheson pointed out when he was explaining how to perform analysis is that there are risks which you know about, and can properly evaluate; risks which you know about, but cannot properly evaluate; and risks that are unknown. That last one is often called the 'joker in the deck' in common parlance, or the 'bolt from the blue' or 'out of left field'."

"Things which come as a complete and total surprise, right?"

"Yes, exactly. You can assess the risk for the things you know about, even if you don't have all, or even any, details, though the value of that risk assessment will vary with the amount of information you have. Accounting for 'bolt from the blue' events is nearly impossible. Sure, you can have a set of contingency plans or mitigation strategies, but those are generally based on things you know might go wrong, and the probability they'll go wrong. Everything I do at work has to take into account the relationship between what I know, what I do not know, and what I cannot know. For relationships, I think you can add in what I don't want to know."

"Willful ignorance?" Bianca asked.

"That's one way to put it, but another is to say I don't concern myself for anyone's past relationships, but those could come back to bite me in the ass."

"Bev?"

"Sort of, but I was thinking more of the psycho ex-boyfriend who decides to show up and do something evil. We read about that kind of thing in the paper far too often."

"True."

"It's also the case that we can't reliably predict the future. Yes, I'm pretty good at making bets on things, but some weird event could upset the whole apple cart. Spurgeon's dad made a bet on oil right before the embargo and made a fortune. The Hunt brothers made a huge bet on silver and lost everything in 1980 when their attempt to corner the market failed because a regulation was changed 'out of the blue', and the price of silver plummeted from $50 per ounce to $11 per ounce.

"And it becomes more complicated. You've heard the whole 'butterfly flapping its wings in Japan causing a typhoon' idea. Well, you never know for sure what the outcome of any specific event will be. My mom found that out, and so did Bev. And at the risk of scaring you away, you could get pregnant tonight despite being on the Pill."

"You're just full of comforting thoughts," Bianca said, shaking her head. "But forget the philosophy class and analyze the chances of filling me with something else!"

"My analysis says that's something with a probability approaching certainty!"

XXXVII. Put Up or Shut Up

April 15, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Friday, I interviewed the two finalist candidates for Eric Thiele's open analyst position. The differences between the two were stark.

One was a man around fifty with thirty years of experience in the industry in various roles. He was intelligent, soft-spoken, and extremely businesslike. He had a degree in accounting and had been a CPA for several years before becoming an investment advisor, then an analyst.

The other was a gorgeous, stacked blonde who had graduated the previous year from UofI with a degree in international finance and a minor in economics. She was completely casual, excitable, and had a quick wit, not to mention being extremely intelligent and well-read.

It was an interesting contrast -- the staid, experienced father of three versus the young, aggressive, single girl. I leaned towards recommending Cassidy, the young woman, over Steve, the older man. I was reasonably certain she had no idea about the environment, and while as an analyst she'd be a rung above the secretaries, she'd still be viewed as a 'piece of ass' and expected to put out, and that created a potential problem.

The more I thought about it, the environment at Spurgeon was toxic and was not likely to change, barring some kind of federal government intervention or perhaps Spurgeon being arrested for screwing underage girls. But even that might not change the culture, as I suspected Murray Matheson was Noel Spurgeon's designated successor, given Mr. Spurgeon only had one child, and Samantha was seven or eight. And even if she were older, I couldn't imagine Noel Spurgeon turning his firm over to 'a girl', even if that girl was his daughter.

As I continued to contemplate my recommendation, a small voice whispered, 'You have to plan to leave', and I reluctantly agreed. The question really was timing, and I'd need to do a significant amount of work to prepare for that. That work might take years, and in order to be successful, I'd need to have clients and fund assets that would allow it. That meant it would take years, but I needed to start planning immediately.

My thoughts were interrupted when my desk phone rang.

"FX Desk, Kane."

"Mr. Kane, this is Detective Sergeant Thomas from Overland Park, Kansas."

"Good afternoon, and please call me Jonathan."

"OK, Jonathan. I'm calling about the financial review you promised. What do you need?"

"Bank statements, investment statements, the most recent information on your pension fund, and a list of your other assets such as your house, any other property, including collectibles."

"So, the cherry Mickey Mantle rookie baseball card?"

"Yes, because it has significant value. I take it from that you have a large card collection?"

"My dad started it with the cards that came in cigarette packs."

"If I remember correctly, some of those cards, in good condition, are extremely valuable."

"Unfortunately, many of those original cards are in pretty bad shape. The later ones are much better."

"Have you had the collection appraised?"

"No."

"You should do that, mainly for insurance purposes. I'm not licensed to sell insurance, but I think you need a policy rider to insure collectibles."

"I'll ask my agent. I never thought about it."

"Out of curiosity, who runs your department pension fund?"

"I don't know the bank or investment company, but it's managed by the police union. Why?"

"I'll send you a prospectus for my fund, which I'd appreciate you getting into the right hands. Is it a defined contribution or defined benefit fund?"

"You mean, do I get a fixed amount of money every month when I retire? Yes. It works out to roughly 80% of my final pay."

And if it was like many pension funds, it was underfunded and had only average returns, which meant, eventually, it would become unable to meet its obligations. That had happened with some of the larger unions, and those pensions had been paid by the Pension Benefit Guaranty Corporation, a Federally chartered corporation created by the Employee Retirement Income Security Act of 1974.

"You can fax everything to me or make copies and mail it."

"I can fax it from work. Give me the number."

I gave him the number of the confidential fax, which was in the locked cabinet near Anna's desk, and confirmed that I'd need a week from the time I received everything. Once we hung up, I returned to my analysis of the candidates and decided that despite my misgivings, Cassidy was a better choice than Steve.

I picked up the phone and dialed Eric Thiele's number, and his secretary answered, saying he was on a call and would return the call in a few minutes, which he did.

"It's a close thing," I said, "but I'd suggest hiring Cassidy based on her obvious intelligence, energy, and attitude. The only caveat is our recent experience with Paige Jennings, but I don't think Cassidy has the same attitude."

"And her minimal experience?"

"I'm the last person at Spurgeon who could raise that particular objection!"

Mr. Thiele laughed, "Good point! Thanks for your input. I'll make my decision, and Carolyn will let you know about training."

"You're welcome, and per Mr. Matheson, I'm to make myself available when I'm needed."

We ended the call, I spent another hour working, then left the office to pick up Violet for the Hawks game. We arrived at Chicago Stadium, and I used the pass that allowed me into the special parking lot and was pleased to find out that the cost of parking was covered by Spurgeon, not that $10 was a lot to spend, given the tickets were free. Our only costs would be food.

We parked, walked to the correct gate, climbed the steps to the second tier of seats, and found ours, which were just to the left of the center red line.

"WOW!" Violet exclaimed when she took in the rink. "These are great seats!"

"They are!"

Before the game started, we went to the concession stand to get food and drinks, then carried them back to our seats.

"You have to get season tickets of your own!" Violet declared.

"I'd love to, but they're out of my price range for at least a few more years! But it's absolutely something I'll keep in mind."

"The stadium is privately owned, but not by the Hawks, right?"

"Right," I confirmed. "It's owned by the Chicago Stadium Corporation, who built it in 1928. The original plan was that they would build it to bring an NHL team to Chicago, but when they lost out on owning the team, they built the stadium anyway in an attempt to have some control over the Black Hawks, who started playing at the Chicago Coliseum on Wabash in 1926."

"I know that part of the history; I just didn't know about the stadium. Did you know they're named after a military unit -- the Blackhawk Division?"

"I thought it was after Black Hawk, the Indian chief."

"Indirectly, because the guy who owned the franchise had been in that military unit in World War I, and it was named for Black Hawk, but he got the idea from his unit. But then he spelled it like the Indian chief's name with a space between 'black' and 'hawk', while the military unit is one word."

"When did the Wirtz family buy the team?" I asked.

"1966, from James Norris, who owned the Red Wings AND the Colosseum. It was bad because there were trades between the teams that amounted to the Red Wings robbing the Hawks. But then the Hawks signed Bobby Hull and Stan Mikita and won the Cup in '61. Then, when Bill Tobin, who was the frontman for Norris, died in 1966, Arthur Wirtz took over. He and his son Bill run the team now, though it's mostly Bill because Arthur is eighty-two."

"Thanks for the franchise history lesson!"

We finished the conversation just in time for the National Anthem, so we set our food down and stood, anticipating the hockey that would follow the patriotic display.

The Hawks got off to a good start, with Al Secord scoring just under six minutes in as he came onto the ice, having just served a minor penalty for hooking. The Hawks got a second goal sixteen minutes in when Steve Larmer scored, making it 2-0. Just under a minute later, after a cross-checking penalty to Will Plett of the North Stars, Doug Crossman scored a powerplay goal to make it 3-0.

"They're looking great!" Violet exclaimed when the horn sounded to end the first period.

"Eight penalties, but tilted towards the Hawks with the way it worked out. They only served three, and some of them overlapped with the North Star penalties."

The second period was even better, with Bob Murray and Tom Lysiak scoring just thirty-five seconds apart to give the Hawks a 5-0 lead just 6:41 into the second period.

"I'd say this one is over!" Violet declared.

"I don't disagree because I don't see how the Hawks could blow a five-goal lead!"

Surprisingly, Minnesota staged something of a rally, scoring at 12:56 and 15:44, to make the score 5-2 when the second period ended.

Violet and I both used the restroom during the intermission, and I bought us each a Coke before we returned to our seats for the third period.

"Uh-oh," Violet groused when the North Stars scored a little over three minutes into the third period to make the score 5-3.

"Yeah, that's not good. Granted, the Hawks still have a two-goal lead, but they can't afford to give up another goal."

Fortunately, the next goal was by Denis Savard, putting the Hawks up 6-3 at 11:56 of the third period. Savard scored again just under five minutes later, making the score 7-3 and ensuring a Hawks win. The Hawks did give up another goal on a late powerplay after Rich Preston had been called for interference. The game ended with the score being 7--4, giving the Hawks a 2-0 lead in the series and all but ensuring they'd advance to the next round.

When the game ended, we got up and joined the throngs making their way out of the stadium. Fortunately, the special parking lot was close, which meant we got to our car before most fans. That allowed us to get out of the special parking lot without waiting in traffic.

"Is there any way you could get tickets for the next round?" Violet asked as I pulled onto Madison.

"No, and I don't want to push things. I've used up quite a bit of my goodwill and want to keep what I have left in my back pocket. It wouldn't be so bad if the games were televised, but even if they were, hockey on TV isn't very good because it's hard to see the puck, and you have such a narrow view of the ice."

"What about next year?"

"I'll have tickets allocated to me, but there's no guarantee for any specific game or round."

"I noticed you didn't socialize very much," Violet observed. "There were other Spurgeon people in our row and in front of us.

"I'll say something to you which cannot be repeated to anyone -- I don't like most of the people I used to call 'Suits', even though I'm technically one of them. And what you don't know is that at least half the men there had dates who are not their wives."

"I thought you didn't care about morals that way."

"I don't. I care about fidelity, which means keeping your word and honoring your commitments. There's a Latin phrase which sums it up -- falsus in uno, falsus in omnibus. That means 'false in one, false in all', and I agree because once you're known to be a liar, you can't be trusted."

"Hang on! You lied about Heather being your daughter!"

I nodded, "I did, but I did that to keep a commitment I'd made to Bev. In other words, there was a conflict between 'keep your commitments', 'keep your word', and 'tell the truth'. In that specific case, I felt that the only way to resolve the conflict and ensure a good outcome was to tell that fib. You heard Bev's reaction."

"She was shocked."

"She was, but after she's had time to think it through, what has she said?"

"That it was the only thing you could do to protect her and Heather."

"Exactly. It's exceedingly rare that lying is the ethical thing to do, but sometimes it is. One thing I cannot be is unflinchingly rigorous, with two exceptions."

"Being faithful to your wife is one, I'm sure. What's the other?"

"Strict adherence to SEC, CFTC, and IRS regulations. There can be no deviation there any more than there can be deviation in fidelity to my future wife."

Of course, I thought, if I followed Bianca's suggestion, that wouldn't be a consideration.

"Both of those make sense because even a minor deviation could result in a terrible outcome -- divorce in one case and prison in the other."

"Yes, though it's not the threat of punishment that matters; it's my reputation because, in the end, if I tarnish that, I'm finished and not just at work."

Violet was quiet for a moment, "And telling the lie about Heather would actually help your reputation, except perhaps with the police if they found out."

"Actually, I don't think the cops would care very much, but DCFS, or whatever it's called in Kansas, would. From the perspective of the cops, all I did was give Heather to her mom, and the paperwork would ensure that no prosecutor would think about trying that kind of case. DCFS, on the other hand, could take Heather away and force Bev to prove she should get her back."

"I've heard horror stories at work about that. I think DCFS mostly does a good job, but when they make mistakes, they refuse to admit them, and it's a nightmare all around."

"What bugs me about it is that you are, in effect, guilty until proven innocent, which violates both the spirit and the letter of the Constitution. What DCFS is doing would be similar to the police accusing you of murder and being able to send you to prison until you proved you didn't do it."

"It's tough because you do need to take kids away from parents who are abusing them."

"Yes, of course, and I'm OK with that done on an emergency basis, so long as DCFS has to prove it in court quickly or return the kids. I'd equate it with murderers being held without bail until trial. The Constitution requires a speedy trial, and so the government either has to prove it at trial or release the accused person. And that is supposed to happen quickly."

"That actually makes sense."

When we arrived at Violet's house a few minutes later, I double-parked and walked her to the door. She gave me a tighter hug than she had in the past, and I wondered if she'd try to kiss me on the lips. She didn't, and after we said 'goodnight', I walked back to my car, turned off the hazards which I'd set when I'd double-parked and headed home.

"I saw on the news they won!" Bianca said when I walked into the house.

"I was worried in the third period because the Hawks appeared to be falling apart, but they recovered.

"Are you going straight to bed?"

"That was the plan, yes."

We hugged, and I headed up to my room, where I found Keiko in my bed, reading Creative Computing.

"How was the game?" she asked.

"The Hawks won 7-4, but there was a bit of a concern when they gave up two goals at the end of the second and one early in the third. But they recovered their form and basically cruised to victory.

"I'm glad they won!"

"Me, too!" I agreed. "Let me take a quick shower. Some people around us were smoking."

Keiko returned to reading her magazine, and I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, then got into bed with her.

"Would you be interested in going to Saint Martin in July?" I asked.

"Obviously! What happened with Anna?"

"She decided that because, in her mind, I dropped literally everything to help Bev, I'd do that in the future and couldn't be trusted not to."

"Oh, come on!" Keiko protested. "I agree with Dee and Bianca that's exactly what we'd expect you to do and want you to do for us if we ever needed you."

"That sentiment seems universal, except with Anna. But that's OK because it does allow me to extricate myself from the tricky situation with dating someone from Spurgeon."

"Yes, but because you're you, there was zero chance of not taking the chance to have sex with the gorgeous Swedish girl!"

"Maybe," I allowed. "But I'd rather have sex with the gorgeous Japanese girl!"

"And the gorgeous Japanese girl won't object!"

"Even if I tell her all the girls who live here are invited to Saint Martin?"

Keiko laughed again, "That's so you! And as much as I'd like to have you all to myself, I know that's not in the cards in the short term."

"Are you saying you do want that?"

"I think the best thing to say is that things are on the proper trajectory. Bianca is going to be with a girl, despite her suggestions of a harem; Deanna mostly sees you as a meal ticket and patron; and nobody else is in serious competition. I'm not going to do something foolish to mess things up when they're going in the direction I want them to go. Remember, I voluntarily came to you knowing you were having sex with Ellie and other girls, so I knew exactly what I was signing up for."

"So long as you're happy."

"I am. How many nights in Saint Martin?"

"Seven."

"And by all the girls who live here, you mean Bianca, Deanna, and me? Or does it include the ones who are moving in -- CeCi and Juliette?"

"All five of you," I replied. "Obviously, Kristy and Shelly are off limits."

"More than you know for Shelly!"

"Huh?"

"Perry asked her to marry him this evening, and she said 'yes'."

"WHOA!" I exclaimed.

"She said that once she decided to move in with him, it was a foregone conclusion, so she hinted at it, he took the hint, bought a small diamond, and asked her."

"Talk about a whirlwind romance!"

"No kidding! When's the wedding?"

"July 23rd is what she said. He's nominally Lutheran, so they'll marry in his church to avoid the complications of a Catholic marriage."

"I'm just flabbergasted," I replied. "But if she's happy, I'm happy. The only downside is I won't be able to go to the Police concert that day at Comiskey."

"Bummer! But you can make ME happy right now..."

I could, and I did.

April 16, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Saturday morning, Keiko and I slept in, then after showers and breakfast, I headed to the Secretary of State's office to change the address on my driver's license and on the registration of my LeBaron. I ended up waiting in line for nearly two hours to accomplish what would have taken no more than twenty minutes total at the BMV in Clermont County. Once I reached the disinterested clerk, who appeared to be working as slowly as possible, it took another thirty minutes to complete everything and get a new license.

That made me late for my lunch with Violet, Bev, and Heather. I'd warned Violet that was possible, and I'd called her from a payphone when I was about to leave the Secretary of State's office to let her know I was on my way.

"I need to find a job," Bev said after we sat down to eat. "But I'm not sure I can find one that will pay enough to cover daycare for Heather."

"But if you count the child support, you'll have plenty, right? The first check should arrive on Monday or Tuesday."

"I didn't even think about that," Bev admitted. "Yes. I'll get almost as much in child support as I'd have take-home pay from the kinds of jobs I could get."

"If I remember, you can type."

"Yes, of course! I took the typing class they offered in High School."

"The one guys were not allowed to take because they couldn't even accommodate all the girls who wanted to take it."

"And girls couldn't take shop for the same reason; well, too many guys, but you know what I meant."

"Let me call some of my contacts. I take it a secretarial job would be OK?"

"Yes, or any kind of office work, really. I took shorthand as a Freshman, but I haven't used it. I don't think it would take too long to get good at it again."

"At Nelson's law firm, they dictate into either pocket tape recorders or dictation machines, so you just need to type, not take shorthand. I don't know if they have openings, but I'll ask him, Pete, Gary, Marcia, and Jeri. You do NOT want to work at Spurgeon."

"What? You don't think I'll fuck as part of my job duties?"

Violet blushed slightly, so I felt I had to say something.

"No, I don't, and you should probably use a different word."

"Oh! Sorry, Violet. I said it to shock Jonny; I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's OK," Violet said. "But that can't really be a requirement, can it?"

"Not legally," I replied. "But it's expected of all the secretaries. I would never do that, and I absolutely won't date anyone from work."

"I thought you were."

"I was, but she didn't want to see me anymore, and I decided it was a bad idea to even think about dating anyone from work."

"The Swedish girl?" Bev asked. "What happened?"

I wanted to say, 'You happened', but that would be tacky and would hurt Bev.

"She didn't agree with my priorities," I replied, "so she broke things off. I also came to the conclusion that the culture at Spurgeon will never change and that I need to work on an exit strategy. The thing is, that will take several years because I need to have something on the order of fifty million in assets under management that I could take with me. And I have to be sure that those clients will go with me rather than insist on remaining with Spurgeon. That means I probably need a hundred million, and I'm not anywhere near that. I have about ten million, but that includes five million Spurgeon gave me to manage, which he absolutely would take back."

"Why so much?" Violet asked.

"With 'two and twenty', fifty million under management would mean a million dollars in income, from which I'd have to pay my staff, pay for my office space, pay taxes, and so on. So let's say it's Jack, me, an analyst, and a secretary, plus nice offices, which are necessary. That's half-a-mil right there, at least, if Jack and I want to have decent salaries that are similar to what I'll make at Spurgeon in a few years. The goal is to never touch the 'twenty' part, because it's seriously advantageous to 'let it ride', so to speak."

"And you can do that?" Bev asked. "Just leave?"

"It won't be easy, and it would piss off Noel Spurgeon, but as a betting man, I would say something will happen that will allow me to leave without incurring too much of his wrath. Don't ask me what it will be, but it'll be something. Doing it without some kind of arguably good reason would incur his wrath, and that might wreck any plans I had. But this is all speculation, and right now, I need to learn, develop contacts, and grow the funds I manage. That means bringing in more clients, which is something I'll work on, but it will take a few years."

When we finished eating, Violet and I cleaned up while Bev put Heather down for her afternoon nap. Once we finished in the kitchen, Violet suggested a walk, and I agreed, given I didn't have to pick up Teri until 5:00pm. We walked past the Andros' and turned onto Halsted, following the route I'd used to go to the laundromat and Jewel, and as we walked past the dōjō, Keiko's grandfather came out the door.

"Good afternoon, Sensei Ichirō," I said.

"Good afternoon, Jonathan."

He bowed, so I returned the bow, remembering to bow slightly further than he did as a sign of respect.

"This is my friend Violet," I replied. "Violet, this is Keiko's grandfather."

"Nice to meet you, Violet."

"And you," she replied.

"Jonathan, you should come to the dōjō for class, if only to observe. I think you will see the value of the training we offer."

"Thank you for your gracious invitation," I replied, remembering what Keiko had said about how to be polite. "I can't even really consider it until after my classes end in May."

"I hope to see you again soon."

"Keiko and I would be honored to visit you."

"Good!"

He bowed, I returned the bow, and Violet and I resumed walking as he went to his car.

"You behaved totally differently with him!" Violet observed once we were about a block away.

"Keiko taught me how to be properly respectful in Japanese culture."

"It's quite the coïncidence that she's related to the instructor at the school that you used to walk past every Saturday morning. When did you meet him?"

"Keiko and I had dinner at his house because she wanted me to meet her family."

"That sounds serious."

"Keiko has made it clear she's interested in a long-term relationship when the time is right. Neither of us is ready to make a commitment like that at this point. It might be years before either of us is, and there's no guarantee we'll end up together. You know I'm dating Lily, too."

"And me, I guess," Violet said.

I could say, 'But things are different with you', but I didn't want to imply anything one way or the other.

"And you aren't ready to make any kind of commitment beyond being my friend, so, in a sense, it's not different from Lily or Keiko."

"But you and Lily..."

"Are you guessing, or did she tell you?"

"She told me. When I had my panic attack and explained everything to her, I asked, and she said she had. I asked if it was with you, and she said it was."

I knew I was treading dangerous ground, but I felt Violet could handle the conversation.

"And how does that make you feel?"

"You mean, am I jealous or upset or whatever?"

"Yes."

"No, because I'm not your girlfriend. It would be different if I was, obviously, because I'd want you to myself. If Lily doesn't mind you going out with other girls, then it's not a problem. I know she goes out with other guys, too. I guess I feel a bit jealous of Keiko and Lily, but that's not your fault, and it's not up to me what you do. And other people going to bed together doesn't bother me, just...well, thinking about doing that makes me feel like I'm going to have a panic attack."

"I'm sorry if I've caused you to think about it."

Violet laughed softly, "You're apologizing for being a good-looking guy? Nancy says it's normal to think about it, though I don't think about it every ten seconds like guys do!"

I laughed, "We're not quite that bad! Is it OK to ask something?"

"Sure."

"How long have you been thinking about it?"

"Since you put my gum in your mouth! That's why I kind of freaked out that night. I hid it and managed not to panic, and then after I told you what had happened, I mostly had it under control. I'm sure you noticed I behaved differently towards you at times. Well, that was me trying not to lose it."

"But now?"

"Nancy has helped me with the panic attacks, but..."

"You aren't going to upset me," I said. "You can say whatever you need to say."

"I got used to hugging you and kissing your cheek, and I told you it's OK to hug me, but I'm afraid a real kiss would cause me to completely lose it."

"Something easily avoided by simply not doing that."

Violet sighed, "Except I want to. I came close to kissing you on the lips a few times, but even thinking about it made me shake."

"Nobody should ever do more than they're comfortable doing, no matter what."

"But do you understand the problem?"

"Probably not in the way I should."

"I know you want to kiss me, and I want to kiss you, partly because I love you but partly because I know you want me to."

"Do you remember the first time you hinted at that? How I responded?"

"You were super-careful about admitting you wanted to."

"For exactly this reason," I replied, keeping my voice soft. "I don't want you to do something or try to do something simply because I want to."

"You know I knew you wanted to once you put the gum in your mouth."

"After the fact. I was still relatively clueless at that point."

"But you and Bev..."

"I meant in understanding how girls think. I'm certainly no expert, but I understand way more now than that first night we met, both about girls in general and you specifically."

"Do you know the best thing that happened last week?"

"For me, it was seeing you as a playful, fun-loving, outgoing young woman."

"Is it OK to say something silly?"

"Of course."

"Because you felt your chances of getting lucky improved tremendously?"

I laughed, "No, but yes, if that makes sense."

"I confuse you a lot, don't I?" Violet asked.

"And that is not your fault. You know who I blame."

"Me, too, and I confuse myself."

"So, what was the best thing that happened?"

"When we were at the diner, and the waitress said we were a cute family. Do you know what I thought?"

"No, I don't."

"That I should just get into your bed so we could be a real family, but...well, you know."

"I do. And you don't have to apologize or feel bad. May I point out that you could never have had this conversation even three months ago?"

Violet smiled, "Nancy is really helping, and so are you and Lily. And Bev, too."

"I'm glad. And please don't obsess."

"Last I checked, it was boys who were obsessed with going to bed with girls!"

"I will admit there is some truth to that," I said with a smile.

I knew girls who obsessed as well, but given I'd just counseled Violet to not obsess, I didn't think it was right to say that.

"Changing subjects, you're not going to take a class over the Summer, right?"

"Right," I confirmed.

"Can we agree on a specific day that we'll see each other?"

"What about Sundays? Neither of us goes to church, and until football starts in the Fall, Sundays are wide open. We could spend as much of the day together as you wanted. Then we'll decide what to do when football starts."

"OK," Violet replied. "But not just Sundays, right?"

"White Sox or Cubs games, too. And I'm sure we'll do other stuff."

"Thanks."

"Also, I have a check for you to cover expenses. I added some to the usual amount I give you to cover meals, so you don't have to ask Bev for anything."

"I appreciate it, but you know I'd do this for you without that."

"I know, but my financial position allows me to do it, and I want to."

"And I appreciate it. I also appreciate how much money you're making for me! I'm going to be filthy rich!"

I laughed, "I'm not sure that will happen, but you'll certainly have the money you'll need for any contingency and plenty to spare."

"My parents never had a lot of money, you know, most of what I have is from my grandfather and with a small amount coming from my parents' meager assets. So compared to them, I'm already filthy rich! I have a house that is paid for and six figures in my investment account!"

"Which you'll need for retirement. In fact, once you start your new job, you should set up an IRA. I'll help you do that. That money will grow tax-free, but we'll have to set up a self-directed IRA not managed by Spurgeon because we don't handle small accounts. We'll just match the holdings in the IRA to my personal portfolio. I have to check into the IRS and SEC regs, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have to charge you a fee for that."

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome. Also, remember fees, expenses, and my percentage come out of those six figures. But we should see very nice gains for the rest of the year."

We turned to head back to her house, and I spent about an hour with Bev and Heather before I said 'goodbye' to the three of them and drove the short distance to Teri's house in Bridgeport.

"What are we doing today?" I asked Teri when we left her house to walk to my car.

"Dinner at Parthenon, then Flashdance?"

"Whatever you want," I replied.

"You don't mean that!"

"With regard to dinner and a movie, I do. And you knew that was the context!"

"And if I said that to you..."

"What is it with you?!" I asked, exasperated. "Every single time, it's the same thing, round and round. I'm trying my best to avoid the topic, but you won't let it go. I hate ultimatums, but I'm going to give you one -- either put up or shut up."

"What?! Seriously?"

"Seriously. Drop it, because if you don't, your options are to never see me again or go back to my place and fuck."

"Oh my God!" Teri exclaimed. "Really?!"

"Really," I replied flatly. "There are only two reasons I can come up with -- you either want to fight or you want to fuck. I don't want to fight."

"But you do want to go to bed with me."

"I've answered that question several times, and I'm not going to let you drag me into the same circular argument. As I said last time, the ball is in your court."

"I'm sorry," Teri said. "Let's go to dinner and the movie."

"OK," I agreed.

April 17, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"I'm happy I got home first last night!" Deanna said, stretching when she woke up next to me on Sunday morning.

"No complaints here!" I replied.

"The redhead still won't put out?"

"I'm not trying."

"Reverse psychology?" Deanna asked.

"No. She'll only have sex with her husband."

"CeCi used to say that!"

"And you never know! I'm the only one she's slept with!"

Deanna laughed, "You're that into her?"

"I like her, and we clicked, but it's a long stretch from there to marriage."

"She feels the same way. She really likes you and thinks you clicked."

"And her plans are to land in Hollywood."

"Not arguing her case, but by that time, you're going to have your own jet!"

"Five years? Not a chance. Operating costs with a crew run $400 to $600 per hour. And that doesn't include the cost of the plane. I might be able to charter one for a special occasion, but I won't be able to own one in five years. And a long-distance marriage doesn't seem right for me."

"You're flying to Saint Martin on a private plane, right?"

"Yes, though I have to decide who to take."

"What happened to the Swedish chick?"

"She decided that me going to help Bev proved I'd end up with Bev, so she broke it off."

"I don't see how she got that from you making sure your best friend's kid wasn't taken away from her."

"Me, either, but I wasn't given a chance to explain. Anna said because I dropped everything and ran to Bev, that was proof that I couldn't be trusted to not do that in the future."

"OK, maybe if you had brought her here to live with you, and you two were screwing, but she's not living here, and you only see her when you see Violet. And if I was in trouble like your friend Bev, I'd hope you'd drop everything to help me, not worry about what some other girl thought."

"It's OK, though, because that also allowed me to draw a firm line and tell the other secretaries I wasn't going to get involved in their games."

"Do you think they'd let you take two girls to Saint Martin?"

I was reasonably sure I could, as I'd discussed with Keiko.

"Let me guess -- you and CeCi?" I asked.

"No, Ivy and Sophie!" Deanna said, rolling her eyes. "Of course, CeCi and me!"

"I can ask, though Bianca might put a hit contract out on me!"

"So take three! In fact, take all of us plus CeCi! Make that guy you work for green with envy!"

"The guy I work for has an endless stream of virgin fifteen-year-olds at his beck and call. I doubt he's going to be jealous."

"I bet you anything you care to wager those little girls are actually boring, and he gets off on the fact that they're underage."

"I don't know, and I don't care! But I'll ask tomorrow if it's possible to take more than one person with me."

"Cool. Shower, then breakfast?"

"Sounds good!"

XXXVIII. Spycraft

April 18, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On the way to work on Monday morning, Jack and I heard on the radio that a bomb had gone off at the US Embassy in Beirut.

"What's that going to do?" Jack asked.

"Stocks will sell off at the open, gold will be limit up, and oil prices will spike. What happens after that depends on how Reagan responds. I'm going to guess more troops from the US, France, Italy, and Britain, but not a full-scale invasion. But you never know."

"So what's your move?"

"Stand pat," I replied. "I don't think this will fundamentally shift anything. The wildcard is whether or not this is the beginning of something or an isolated incident."

"And if it's the beginning of something?"

"Then tourism and travel will take a hit if it expands outside the Middle East."

"What are the odds of that?"

"Small, really. But we need to wait to see who claims responsibility and who actually did it."

"Changing subjects, do you get third-round tickets?"

"No. And forget about the Cup, too, if they get that far."

"WHEN! Not 'if', WHEN! No negative waves, Moriarty!"

"You're obviously quoting something."

"It's a line from the movie Kelly's Heroes. You absolutely have to see it."

"I've seen part of it on TV and want to see the whole thing. I need to see if the video store has it."

We arrived at the office, and the first thing I did was check for all the news I could find on the bombing in Beirut, but details were still sketchy. I updated my threat model, nudging the risk level in the Middle East up, which increased my target price for oil. I didn't increase the global threat level because, so far, this seemed to be an isolated incident resulting from US involvement in the Lebanese Civil War.

I turned in my report, then called to make an appointment with Noel Spurgeon. Julie checked and said I could come up right away. I went up to 33, wondering how Noel Spurgeon would respond to my request, suspecting he'd laugh about it, and I put the odds of approval at 80/20 in my favor.

"Go right in," Julie said.

"What's up, Kane?" he asked when I walked in.

"Anna and I had a falling out, so I need to change my guest for Saint Martin."

"You or her?" he asked.

"She was unhappy because I went to Kansas to help my friend from High School."

"A kid your age shouldn't be limited to one girl, and any girl who doesn't understand isn't worth your time."

He was twice my age and certainly didn't feel he should be limited to one girl despite being married, but I wasn't going to say that.

"Speaking of more than one girl," I said, "could I take more than one with me to Saint Martin?"

Noel Spurgeon laughed, "I think I could see my way clear to approve something like that. Who?"

I decided there was no harm in shooting for the moon.

"Well, if I could, the girls who live in my house except Kristy Benton because I don't think Jack Clinton would understand."

"Why do I think that number is more than two?" Noel Spurgeon asked.

"Because it is. There are five."

He laughed again, "I think I'd trade Anna for five college girls! What the hell, Kane? Why not? Knock yourself out."

"Thank you."

"Let Julie know their names. You're going to need the second week of your Sensitive Leave to recover! Get out of here!"

"Thanks again."

I left his office and went to Julie's desk.

"I need to change the plans for Saint Martin," I said. "Same days, but I'll be taking five guests with me. Mr. Spurgeon just approved it."

"Want a sixth?" she asked with a smile.

"An interesting offer," I said with a smile. "But I have to decline."

"Send me their names and copies of their passports or driver's licenses, and I'll make the arrangements."

"Thank you very much."

I returned to my desk and finished out my morning. I ate lunch at my desk, went to the gym, and then spent the afternoon following up on the Beirut Embassy bombing. At the end of the day, I left the office and headed to Violet's house for dinner and then class.

When I arrived, I said 'hi' to Bev, held Heather for a moment, then Violet and I left to have dinner at the diner so we could have some privacy.

"How are you adjusting to having a baby in the house?" I asked after we left the house.

"Where do I work, Jonathan?" Violet asked.

"Never mind!" I chuckled. "That was a dumb question! Your last day at the daycare is a week from today, right?"

"Yes. I'll miss the kids, but I need something that challenges me more."

"Words I would never speak with regard to caring for a bunch of babies and toddlers!"

"Boys are challenged in SO many ways!" Violet declared. "And they're challenging, too!"

"I'm not going to argue with that!"

"They do have their uses! We need police, firemen, and soldiers! Not to mention hockey players!"

"I sense a pattern there," I chuckled.

"How many girls are there on the Black Hawks?"

"Zero, obviously, and women aren't allowed in combat, but there are female firefighters and police officers."

"But most of them are guys because it's often hard physical work."

"Yeah, lifting those doughnut boxes is brutal!"

Violet laughed, "You know that a big guy is more menacing than a smaller woman."

"Unless she has a gun; guns are the great equalizer. Keiko with a gun would be FAR more worrying than Jack with his bare hands."

"But isn't the point that they shouldn't need to use their guns?"

"Tell the cops who patrol the projects about that one. They're out-manned and out-gunned by the gangbangers. Do you really believe those stereotypes?"

"No, but strength does matter for firemen, and I wouldn't lower the standards to make it easier for women to be firefighters. If they can meet the standards, great. If not, it's not discrimination. I mean, could a woman firefighter carry you or Jack out of a burning building by herself? Or handle one of those high-pressure hoses?"

"I suspect there are some who could, but I see your point. But they could also easily be paramedics or engineers who don't typically do those things. Stuart is a tank, but Tom is more wiry. Stuart runs into burning buildings; Tom says he's way too smart to do that!"

"But we need people willing to do that, right? Like soldiers who defend the country or doctors who work in an emergency room?"

"I hear Cook County Hospital is pretty bad, so that might be just as dangerous as being a fireman or police officer. As for soldiers, it's a mixed bag. I want to have an army and a navy to defend the country, but I don't like sending troops overseas to fight."

"Defending Europe during World War II?"

"Sure, but that's different from Viet Nam. My mom's friend's husband died there, and for what? We bailed and lost, no matter how Nixon and Ford wanted to spin it."

"You said you were a pacifist. What would you do if you were drafted?"

"Be a conscientious objector," I replied. "If that didn't work, then a non-combat role. You know they'd put me someplace like supply or accounting or similar, given my background. That said, if our country was being invaded, I would agree to fight because I'd be defending you, Bev, Heather, and all the other people who are special to me. But that's way different from going to Viet Nam or wherever we invade next."

"You think we'll invade somewhere?"

"History says we will, and Reagan isn't averse to using the military. We've invaded countries in the Caribbean and Central America so many times I can't count, and almost always on some pretext."

"Where?"

"If I had to bet, Grenada, or a significant increase of our military presence in Lebanon."

"Lebanon, because of the bombing today, but why Grenada?"

"Last month, President Reagan made a point about the runway there, Soviet nuclear weapons, and the local communist government. The President of Grenada, Maurice Bishop, has a huge target on his back. His government rules by decree and has close relations with Cuba. It's too tempting a target for Reagan not to act. It's just a matter of ginning up the necessary pretext."

"Wait! You think they'll fabricate evidence?"

"It's not as if they haven't invaded countries on flimsy grounds in the past, and you could ask Iran about the CIA and the Shah."

"How did you learn all of this?"

"A lot of it comes from research for our currency trading. I've learned about countries in Africa I never knew existed because our American history books ended around 1960, and for world history, we stopped before the US Civil War. World War I, World War II, and Korea were covered in American History. My last geography class was fifth grade, so around 1973, and it focused on Europe and North America."

"My school was similar, and I don't ever remember studying much about Africa."

"Did you take a foreign language?"

"Spanish for two years. You?"

"No, because it wasn't required to graduate, and I wasn't planning on going to college."

"My Spanish isn't very good, but it helps with the Hispanic moms and kids."

"They don't speak English?"

"Some don't, or they speak very little. I know enough to get by, but we have a girl who is fluent bilingually, if we need more. Bianca speaks Spanish, right?"

"Yes, though I've actually never heard her speak it. Keiko speaks Japanese, and I've only heard her speak a few times. Deanna speaks French, but I haven't heard her."

We walked into the diner, sat down, and ordered. We ate, went to class, and after I walked Violet to her house, I headed home. Keiko was waiting for me, and we went up to bed.

"How are Bev, Heather, and Violet?" Keiko asked.

"Good. Violet and I actually had dinner at the diner so we could have time together. Violet was concerned about Bev always being at the house and interfering with the amount of time Violet and I could spend together."

"Jealousy?"

"Not the way you mean. Violet likes Bev, and she doesn't have a problem with me being friends with Bev; she just wants time with me, similar to what we had in the past. It's just a matter of time together."

"OK. Are you in a good mood?"

"Yes."

"I know how you can help me be in a good mood!" Keiko said as she started undressing.

"Oh?" I asked with a grin.

"Making love always improves my mood, no matter how happy I am!"

"Mine, too!" I agreed.

I quickly undressed, and we climbed into bed. We made love twice, then fell asleep spooned together.

April 19, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Keiko stayed in bed on Tuesday morning, promising she'd change the sheets when she eventually got up, and I went downstairs to have breakfast with Jack and Kristy. I was surprised to find Bianca and Deanna in the kitchen as well.

"Why are you two up early?" I asked.

"I have a program to work on," Bianca said. "So I'm going to the computer lab."

"You can't do it on our computers here?"

"No, it's for my assembly language class, and it has to be done on an IBM PC. You have one at work, but not here."

"Given the change at work, I'll likely buy one later this year so I can use the same exact software at home that I use at work. What about you, Deanna?"

"I was up all night drawing and painting. I have a portfolio due at the end of the semester and I was in my creative zone, so I didn't sleep. I'll nap during the day."

"Given you're both here, I have something to share. Deanna, you know Anna broke things off, and I promised to ask about Saint Martin. Well, I have approval for all the girls who live here who aren't in a committed relationship to go with me."

"No fair!" Kristy said playfully.

"Sucks to be you," Bianca teased, then asked, "Does that include Juliette and CeCi?"

"It does."

"Awesome!" Deanna exclaimed. "I'm SO glad I suggested that! Does Keiko know?"

"I told her last night. Please let CeCi know, and Bianca, please let Juliette know. I'll need a copy of each of your driver's licenses or the details page of your passports for the person at Spurgeon who's coördinating. If you don't have a passport, you should apply for one, but you can go to Saint Martin with just your driver's license."

"Where will we stay?" Deanna asked.

"Mr. Spurgeon has a house there with five bedrooms and a large swimming pool surrounded by a high brick wall. We'll have run of the house, and it'll be completely stocked with food and drinks. We'll have to cook for ourselves, but otherwise, the caretaker and maid service take care of everything."

"Must be nice to be loaded!" Deanna declared.

"If you stay on this bus, you'll have access to that kind of thing for the rest of your life!" Bianca declared.

"Maybe I won't be a starving artist after all!"

"But you'll still pretend to be," I said with a smile, "because that fits the persona you're cultivating."

I quickly made my breakfast, which was Rice Krispies and sliced banana in milk, plus orange juice and coffee. Once I'd eaten, I kissed Bianca and Deanna goodbye, and Jack and I left to head to the office.

"I'm jealous!" Jack declared.

"You do realize that all you have to do is ask Kristy, and she'll invite Allyson to play!"

Jack smirked, "You say that like it hasn't happened since the time she 'accidentally' came into the bedroom at Allyson's house!"

"Given we've only lived together for a few weeks, I wasn't privy to your relationship beyond what I saw on Friday nights and at our parties!"

"You have a date with Beth tonight, right?"

"Yes."

"OK. I'll take the L home. On another point, the Hawks are looking good."

"They are, but there's still a way to go."

"Think positively! No negative waves! And speaking of that, we should rent the movie this weekend."

"I don't have plans for Saturday night."

"Neither do we. Who are you bringing on Friday?"

"Kasey," I replied. "I asked Izzy, but she has a date with a guy she's seen a few times."

"Which one is Kasey?"

"Tall, thin, with dark hair. She was hanging out with Josie at the housewarming."

"Ah, OK. I can't keep your harem straight without a scorecard!"

"You chose to get serious with Kristy, so you only have yourself to blame!"

"I made the right choice, even without the occasional threesomes with Allyson. Before I forget, did you hear about Shelly?"

"Keiko told me last night. I was totally surprised, but if that's what Shelly wants, I'm happy for her."

"I wondered if maybe she's pregnant."

"It's possible, but I highly doubt it, given she was on the Pill. Honestly, he's exactly what she needs. She recognized that and dropped the proper hints. Perry, not being an idiot, asked the sexy strawberry blonde to marry him."

"All the girls you hang out with are hot!"

"Says the guy engaged to a hot girl who occasionally brings her friend to bed with them!"

"Yeah, yeah," Jack chuckled. "I have no room to complain."

We arrived at the Hancock Center, I parked and we parted ways as Jack had to take the freight elevator while I went up the stairs to take the passenger elevator. I greeted Rich, made coffee, then sat down to work on my morning analyst report.

There was still limited information on the bombing, but the death toll was set at over sixty, and a group called 'Islamic Jihad' was claiming responsibility. The Lebanese government had requested additional peacekeeping troops from the coalition, which included the US, Italy, France, and the UK, and I expected that to be granted but also to be limited. I finished my report and put it on Mr. Matheson's desk, then reviewed the overnight trades, focusing on currency and precious metals trading in London and Hong Kong. Just after 10:00am, Murray Matheson called me into his office.

"Thoughts on the Nexis system?" he asked.

"I'd say, at this point, it's worth every penny we're paying," I replied. "Being able to retrieve back issues and articles is huge, and you know what pain it is to find things, even with the printed indices we have in the library. Every analyst should have it, and every analyst should have Bloomberg, though I know that's a problem due to limited availability."

"Anything you'd change?"

"I'd suggest we get a single Dow Jones terminal so we have access to the Wall Street Journal. It could go in the library and be shared. I wouldn't choose it over Nexis given the cost and the offerings, but that one feature is worth it."

"What gear would you suggest for Thiele's new analyst?"

"Match what I have," I replied. "Though we might not be able to get the Bloomberg terminal, as I said."

"OK. I'll speak to Noel about it. Any thoughts on when you'll recommend the precious metals play?"

"Soon," I replied. "I'd say no more than a month. I'm keeping a close eye on the prices and spreads. It's looking more and more like the previous circumstances."

"Good. Noel and I closed another deal yesterday."

"I have a line on a pension fund," I said. "It's purely speculative at the moment, but I'm going to give it a shot."

"Interesting. Who and where?"

"The Overland Park Police Department in Kansas. I have no idea if it's even possible, but I'm going to send them a fund prospectus and try for a meeting. I planned to tell you about it if they were receptive to a meeting."

"Do me a favor, please. In your morning analyst report, add a section with your pipeline and your estimated odds of bringing in the business. Normally analysts don't do that, but you're more a PM than an analyst, even if you're mostly doing an analyst role."

"OK. I'd rate this one as 1% at the moment because I don't know if they'll even talk to me."

"I understand. Something like that is going to take six months to a year, if it ever happens. And we might expend a lot of effort to get nothing. But getting one means a foot in the door with other pension funds. Now, if we could just invest the money people contribute to Social Security, we could bail out the system completely!"

"Unfortunately, the so-called 'trust fund' is all lent to the government and replaced with taxpayer-backed IOUs, which are euphemistically called 'government securities'!"

Mr. Matheson laughed, "You've been reading too many articles by 'Gold bugs'!"

"As loony as they might be, they aren't wrong about Treasury Notes, Bills, and Bonds being taxpayer-backed IOUs. Neither you nor I, nor anyone else, has an 'account' with the Social Security Administration. And if we did what they do, we'd be in prison for running a Ponzi scheme!"

"As Mao said, all power stems from the barrel of a gun! And they have F-16s, howitzers, and aircraft carriers full of F-14s!"

"True."

"Noel told me about your request. I wouldn't mind going to Saint Martin with five college girls!"

"Find your own," I said with a huge grin.

"Get out of here, Kane!" he ordered, but he was laughing.

I left his office and went back to my desk. I took some time before lunch to call Nelson, Marcia, and Gary to ask about jobs for Bev and struck pay dirt when Nelson called back just after lunch to let me know they had a clerk's position open, and he asked me to have Bev call him. I hung up and called Bev to let her know.

"What duties?" she asked.

"Clerical," I replied. "Mostly photocopying, filing, faxing, answering phones, and managing couriers. You can do it, and it will pay well for an entry-level job. And one key benefit is they offer to pay for paralegal training, if you're interested. You should absolutely call."

"OK. What's the number?"

I gave her Nelson's number, and she promised to call him while Heather was down for her afternoon nap.

The rest of the day was routine, and I left the office at 5:00pm to pick up Beth for our date, which would follow the usual pattern -- dinner at Eli's The Place for Steak, then a night at my house.

"How's my Goy Boy Toy?" Beth asked when she got into my car in the alley behind the tailor shop.

"Ready for an evening of great food and great sex!" I replied as she tossed her overnight bag into the back seat.

"Music to my ears!"

I pulled out of the alley and headed for the restaurant.

"Do you get a vacation at all?" I asked.

"Yes. My grandfather closes the shop for the first two weeks in July. That's always a slow time. He also closes the week between Christmas and New Year's Day. And you know he's closed on the High Holidays but not the entire period of Passover or Chanukah."

"Got any big plans?"

"A trip to Israel this year. I'll see some distant relatives, hang out in some clubs, and hit the beach! What are you doing for your vacation?"

"Going to Saint Martin with some friends. Noel Spurgeon has a house there that he makes available to top performers."

"Not the way I want you to perform later!"

I chuckled, "Financially. So unless you have some kinky Scrooge McDuck fantasy of doing it on a pile of gold coins, no money will be involved!"

"That would be cold AND painful! Have you ever noticed all those ducks wear shirts but go bottomless? Including Daisy?"

"I can't say that I'm interested in the sex lives of ducks, cartoon or otherwise!"

"I would hope not! Any big news in your life from the past few weeks?"

"Other than making a quick trip to help my friend, the single mom, not really. You?"

"Nothing really out of the ordinary," Beth said. "What happened with your friend, if it's OK to ask?"

"Just complications of trying to avoid the private investigator her parents hired. She doesn't want to see them or talk to them, and they aren't taking 'leave me alone' for an answer. And that was after they filed a missing person report which was resolved by the cops telling them she didn't want to talk to them and not revealing where she was."

"That must have been some falling out, though with being pregnant in High School with questions about paternity, I suspect there was more than a little tension."

"You suspect correctly. I'm doing what I can to help her, but she's always been fiercely independent."

"Aren't you?" Beth asked.

I shook my head, "No. Mom and I were a team from the time I was little, and I still call her every week, and we talk about pretty much everything."

"The dream son for every Jewish mother on the planet!"

"Minus the fact I'm not Jewish!"

"You don't have the biggest impediment to conversion?"

"Which is?"

"A foreskin. You'd need to have it removed."

"The only way that could EVER have happened was the way it did when I was born, with a doctor telling my mom it was 'routine' and her not knowing any better!"

"Afraid of a scalpel?"

"Near that part of my body? Absolutely! I mean, seriously, would you let somebody cut off part of your genitals?"

"No way! That was NEVER part of the covenant. No woman would ever have agreed to the deal Abraham made! You notice it didn't apply to girls, only boys!"

"I'm still trying to figure out how something like that got started? I mean, who signs up for that as an adult?"

"You got me, but Abraham did."

"And you know I blame him and his fellow travelers for many of the world's ills."

"I'm not sure how I could explain it in a way that would satisfy you, so let's focus on a great meal and the great sex we'll have after!"

"No argument from me!"

April 20, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Jonathan Kane?" a man in his late thirties asked as Jack, Beth, and I walked out to the car on Wednesday morning.

"Who wants to know?" I asked.

"Ted Farley. I'm an investigator with Global Security. I'm looking for Beverly Newton."

"I have no information for you," I said.

"She recently registered a car to this address."

"I have no information for you," I said again.

"Do you know where she is?"

"I have no information for you."

"Buddy, get lost," Jack said, lowering his voice to make it sound menacing.

He was the same height as me, but where I was wiry, Jack was muscular. He wasn't built like Stuart, but he certainly looked more dangerous than I did.

"If you just tell me where she is, I'll be on my way."

"I'll say it slower," I said. "I...have...no...information...for...you. The same as I told whoever it was who called from your firm in February."

I opened the garage, the three of us got into the car, and once I'd started it, I pulled out. I saw Mr. Farley move quickly to a Ford sedan and get in.

"He's going to follow us," Jack observed, looking through the back window.

"Let him," I chuckled. "I'm taking Beth to her grandfather's tailor shop, then parking in the parking garage at the Hancock Center."

"What if he hangs out and waits for you to leave and follows you to Violet's house?"

"It's nice enough out that I'll take the subway and the L. He won't have a prayer of following me if he's waiting in his car and has to park."

"Does he know about Violet?" Jack asked.

"I have no idea, nor do I know if he knows I'm taking classes. Want to really help me mess with him?"

"Sure."

"You drive my car home. It's simple for me to take the L. I'm not going to make his life easier."

"You know he'll eventually figure it out, right?" Beth asked.

"Maybe. These guys work by the hour according to my friend Nelson, and I know her parents don't have unlimited resources. I can play cat and mouse and hope he gives up."

"Where is her car parked?"

"On the street near my friend Violet's house, but I seriously doubt he knows where that is, and tonight he'll follow my car, or at least be decoyed long enough for me to get into the subway. Tomorrow, I'll arrange with Violet to meet at the diner for dinner rather than at her house. I'd bet he'll follow me when I leave there, not Violet. I can arrange for Violet to go to Lily's rather than straight home."

"That sounds like a really bad spy novel," Beth observed. "He'll figure it out eventually because you can't avoid going to your friend's house forever."

"I'm open to ideas because if he confronts her, she's going to run again."

"Use your subterfuge tonight, but I'll work on an idea I have," Beth suggested.

"Care to share?"

"There's an efficiency apartment over the tailor shop that hasn't been used in about ten years because my grandparents didn't want the hassle. It's furnished, and all the furniture is covered with sheets, so other than airing it out, mopping the floor, and wiping down the counters and cupboards, it's ready for someone to move in. I'll check to make sure the appliances are working, which includes an over-under washer/dryer in a closet. Think she'd go for it?"

"All I can do is ask. I know she wasn't planning to stay with Violet long term."

"I'll call you later this morning and let you know. If you can find out if she's interested, I can get a cleaning service in this afternoon. There is a parking spot in the alley dedicated to the apartment, so she could park her car there. It's beyond a dumpster, so you wouldn't be able to see the plates from the street."

"I just have to figure out how to broach it with her without spooking her. Let me think about that, and I'll come up with something by the time you call me later this morning."

"It's a plan!" Beth declared.

Jack and I dropped her at the tailor shop, and after a deep, sexy kiss from Beth, I got back into the car and drove to the Hancock Center.

"He's still back there," Jack observed as I drove north on Michigan Avenue.

"Good!"

I pulled into the parking garage, and we headed for the elevators. Beth called mid-morning to let me know that the apartment was in good shape and that her grandfather had agreed to lease it to Bev. She also said she'd arranged for a cleaning service to clean the apartment that afternoon. We discussed the rent and agreed on a number I was sure Bev could afford, though I'd pay it until she got her job.

The next step was to call Bev and see how she'd made out with the job.

"I have an interview tomorrow," Bev said. "I wasn't sure how I'd handle it, but Violet will take Heather to daycare for the day."

"A perfect solution!" I declared. "Also, I wanted to talk to you about something you said on Saturday. A friend of mine has an efficiency apartment in the Loop. It's above a tailor shop and comes with a parking spot. And you could move in right away."

"How could I afford that without the job?"

"First of all, I believe you'll get the job the same way I got the job at Spurgeon. That's the whole point of making contacts. Second, the rent is low because it's been empty for some time, and I'll pay your rent until you get your job. You'll have the money from Glen as well. All in all, you'll be able to afford an apartment and daycare and be on your own, which I know you want."

"This is all so fast!"

"I know. What time is your interview tomorrow?"

"9:00am. They said I'd be done about noon."

"OK. I'll arrange for you to see the apartment. My friend Beth will show it to you, and if you agree, you could simply move right in. It's furnished and everything."

"What would I do without you, Jonny?"

"You know I love you and care for you! This is me paying forward what my uncle did for me, similar to what I'm doing with Jack. Should I set it up?"

"Yes, please. I like Violet, but I feel like Heather and I are interlopers."

"She invited you to live there until you were settled," I said. "I'm positive she doesn't feel as if you're an interloper. Before I let you go, would you please let Violet know Jack's borrowing my car, so I'm taking the L to school? I'll meet her at the diner instead of having dinner at the house."

"I'll let her know when she gets home."

"Thanks."

I ended the call, called Beth back to arrange showing the apartment, and once that was completed, went back to work. I simply had to hope the subterfuge, or 'spycraft' as Beth had jokingly called it, worked for a few days. Once Bev was safely in the apartment, it would be nigh on impossible for the investigator to locate her. I estimated her parents would run out of money they could spend on a private investigator before too long.

The rest of the day was uneventful, and as Jack and I had planned, I gave him the keys, then left through an alternate exit so the investigator wouldn't see me leave the front of the building and would see the car pull out of the garage. I took a slightly round-about route to the subway, checking around me each time I had to wait for a light and not seeing the Ford sedan or the investigator before I went into the subway.

Twenty minutes and a change of trains later, I got off the L near my old apartment and walked to the diner to meet Violet, who was waiting for me in a booth. She got up, hugged me, then we sat down.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"I'll tell you everything, but you have to keep it completely to yourself and just pretend everything is normal. First, what did Bev say?"

"That you found an apartment for her, and she could move in right away. You know she has the interview tomorrow, right?"

"Yes. It's not a lock, but it's close to being one. Remember, this is completely secret, OK?"

"Yes, of course!"

The waitress came to take our orders, interrupting our conversation.

"A private investigator found out Bev registered her car at my house and came by this morning. I told him I couldn't help him, which he clearly didn't appreciate. He followed us to work this morning, which I believe he did because he thinks I'll lead him to Bev. Jack agreed to help, so he drove my car home, and I ducked out a side exit and took the subway here. I don't think I was followed, and I don't see the guy or his car outside the diner."

"Bev is really nervous about that."

"I know. So, the plan is that she moves into the apartment before Monday, and everything goes back to normal. She won't have to be careful at all, because he has no idea where to look for her except at my house or where I work, though he'll discover your house on Monday, most likely. All you have to do is say the same thing to him if he asks you -- 'I have no information for you'. Say nothing else; don't even acknowledge you know her. I think after a week or so, he'll give up because Bev's parents don't have an unlimited amount of money to spend."

"What about seeing her?"

"Just put her off for a few days. Once the investigator talks to you, I doubt he follows you. He'll follow me and wait for me to meet her, but there are ways to avoid him, including using the Pedway and the CTA. If he had unlimited time or could use a team, I think he'd find her, but in a short time, with just him? No. There will be no record of her living there."

"What about a phone?"

"I'll work that out with Beth, so it's billed to the shop."

"Beth is the Jewish girl who was at your housewarming, right? And you bought your suits from her grandfather's shop?"

"Yes. I've referred people to her as well, so she owes me favors. It's the same with Nelson helping Bev get the job, though it's not guaranteed. That's how all the relationships work."

"Including you and me?"

"No! I meant business relationships. You are special, and it's not about owing favors to each other but caring for each other."

The waitress brought our food, and we began eating.

"You do a lot to care for me," Violet said. "But how do I care for you?"

"By being my friend! And what do you think going to Kansas with me was except you caring for me. It wasn't about Bev or Heather, except insofar as you knew they needed my help, and I needed your help. And you helped me tremendously, and in a way that I can never repay except by caring for you. Thank you."

Violet smiled, "You're welcome."

XXXIX. Evading the Tail

April 20, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I arrived home later than usual because I had to take the L and walk from the L stop to the house, but I didn't see the investigator, which was what I had expected would be the case. And even if he had been waiting at the L, he would have no way of knowing where I had come from.

"That joker followed me home," Jack said when I walked into the house. "When I came out of the garage, he asked where you were and I gave him the same answer you did this morning."

"Thanks. He can follow me in the morning and all weekend because I'm not going anywhere near Violet's house. Beth and I worked out the deal, and Bev was going to see the apartment after her interview at Hart-Lincoln. She'll move on Saturday, and it's simple for her because it's just her clothes and a few other things, plus Heather's portable bassinet.

"I'm going to call Lily to ask her to help, which is totally safe because the investigator has no clue to look in that area. He'll find Violet's house on Monday when I go there for dinner before class, but she'll give the same exact answer you did, and Bev will have already moved. I figure a week or so, and the guy will give up because of the cost, and then Bev will basically be free."

"You really think her parents will give up?"

"I think economic reality will force them to, at least with regard to the investigator following me."

"Can't you file a stalking or harassment claim?"

"No. According to Nelson, stalking laws don't apply to licensed investigators, so as long as the guy stays off the property and doesn't threaten me. I'm reasonably certain he's licensed, given he said he works for a company."

"Wouldn't the cops need a warrant to follow you?"

"I asked Nelson that question, too. The answer is 'no', so long as they are only tailing me or staking out the house. If they want to listen to my phone calls or search my house or my office, they need probable cause and a warrant. Anyway, let me go change, and I'll be back down."

I went upstairs, changed into sweats, and went back down to the great room to join my housemates. I'd come home during the middle of the newscast, so I'd missed any events which had happened since I'd left the office, but I did see the sports scores. The Hawks had beaten the North Stars, and with that win, were going to the Campbell Conference Finals where they'd face the Edmonton Oilers.

When the news ended, Deanna and I went upstairs, brushed our teeth, undressed, and got into bed.

"I spoke to CeCi this afternoon," Deanna said, "and she's psyched for the trip to Saint Martin! She has a passport, and she'll make a photocopy at school and send it to me. I have a passport as well, and I can make a copy at school."

"I'm curious about why you have passports."

"CeCi has been on a mission trip to Mexico, and I went to Europe for three weeks right after graduation."

"You never mentioned that."

"I guess it never came up. We haven't talked much about my past, except for after I came to Chicago. I was mostly in Paris and spent all my time in museums, and didn't even do the usual tourist things like the Eiffel Tower."

"That actually doesn't surprise me at all! Where besides Paris?"

"Amsterdam, and the same thing -- just museums, no tourist attractions at all, not even Anne Frank's house."

"I'd say that fits with your personality."

"There are other museums in Chicago we can check out, and someday we should go to New York and visit the museums there."

"That's something to think about for next year or the year after," I replied. "This year's vacation is already decided!"

"What about the sleeping arrangements?"

"I hadn't thought much about it, but I'm sure we can work out some kind of equitable time-sharing arrangement!"

"Actually, it won't be bad because Bianca and Juliette will share their turns, and so will CeCi and I. And I'm positive Bianca and Juliette would be OK with all four of us having fun, though Keiko isn't up for anything like that."

"No, she's not, and with seven nights, I think two each for the couples and three for Keiko makes the most sense."

"Unless you meet some cute Dutch girl!" Deanna teased.

"Or French," I replied. "The nude beach is on the French side."

"Nude beach?"

"Anna challenged me to do that, and I'm game. Obviously, it's up to the rest of you if you want to tag along."

"I'm in, for sure! One more thing to check off my list!"

"What else is on this list?" I asked.

"Among other things, the Mile-High Club! Do you know if the plane is configured with a bed?"

"I have no idea and didn't know that was possible. All I know is that it's a Gulfstream III business jet."

"I don't know for sure, but I saw a documentary on business jets used by the rich and famous, and they can be configured with all seats or a mix of seats and a bed."

"I'll ask. I certainly wouldn't object to helping you fulfill that goal!"

Deanna laughed, "No red-blooded man would!"

"Anything else on the list?"

"The Hermitage, which is a museum in Leningrad, but I'm not sure traveling there is a wise idea at this point. I'd also like to go to London and to Egypt."

"Museums, right?"

"Yes, and the pyramids. Back to Saint Martin, I think your division of nights is good, but you should only promise Keiko two nights and leave the other one open for any opportunities that might arise!"

"I'm curious, and I know it's been mentioned before, but does this freedom extend after you're married?"

"Truth? Even though it might happen, I don't expect to marry. I have zero problems with being the 'other woman', so long as the guy is a patron of the arts! Having kids was never high on my list, but I'm not opposed."

"I'm going to guess when you discussed a long-term relationship with me, it was along those lines?"

"No, actually, because I could see marrying you eventually, though the paperwork is totally meaningless in my book. All it does is create problems if you decide you don't belong together."

"No lifetime commitment?"

"You can make the commitment without the government paperwork, and we both know the paperwork is no guarantee you'll stay together. And I have no more use for traditional social values than you do. But that's something to worry about a few years from now. Right now, there is only one thing to worry about."

"What's that?"

"How many orgasms I have in the next two hours!"

April 21, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Deanna stayed in bed on Friday morning, and as I showered, I realized that what Deanna had said the previous evening dovetailed with Bianca's suggested plan, though I wasn't sure Keiko would go for that kind of arrangement. I wasn't ready to make a commitment, but if someone put a gun to my head and insisted I decide, I'd pick Keiko without any hesitation.

But with my life not on the line, I had reasons to wait, the most important being how I felt about Violet. I had serious doubts about her being able to move forward due to her parents' abuse of her and her sister, but I felt I had to give her the chance. A less important reason was that I was in no way ready to give up what Deanna had called a 'veritable tsunami of pussy'.

In fact, I couldn't think of a single thing that would cause me to do anything that would block the week in Saint Martin short of Violet asking me to be her boyfriend with all that entailed. I felt the chances of that were slim in the short term and not all that great in the long term, which meant nothing stood in the way of eight days and seven nights of sex with five willing girls, not to mention the intriguing experiment Deanna and CeCi had planned.

I finished in the shower, dressed, and went downstairs to have breakfast with Jack before we headed to work.

"That dark blue Ford is trailing us again," Jack said, looking over his shoulder.

"He can choke on my exhaust," I chuckled. "He's wasting his time, really, and missed his remote chance of following me last night. If all goes according to plan, he has no real chance of locating Bev before she moves and none after, barring some bizarre turn of events."

"Have you thought about calling her parents and asking them to drop it?"

"I tried that when the investigator first contacted me before Bev left St. Louis. They won't be deterred. But I think I can run out the clock. Or at least I'm going to try."

"And if he finds her?"

"I expect her parents to come to Chicago and try to force her to go back to Ohio. At that point, if they won't leave her alone, we can get a restraining order. And I know Beth will help with keeping them off the property. She's not going to take shit from anyone!"

Jack nodded, "I get the picture she gets everything she wants, and then some."

"You'd be correct. She's self-confident, smart, no-nonsense, and demanding."

"And great in the sack, I bet!"

"We're both happy with that part of our relationship, but it's just physical. Well, we're friends, but she's going to marry a Jewish guy. She called me her 'Goy Boy Toy'."

"Too funny! If it weren't for Kristy, I'd be trying to replicate you in that way, too, in addition to at work!"

"You have a good thing going," I said. "Even without a serving of Allyson on the side! Speaking of work, I need to confide in you that I'm convinced that, at some point, I have to go out on my own."

"I'm not surprised by that at all. What time frame?"

"I figure it has to be five or six years, at least. That gives you a maximum timeframe for obtaining your licenses, though I hope you'll do it sooner."

"I promised Mr. Nelson I'd keep the position for two years."

"To quote Murray Matheson, let me worry about Mr. Nelson when the time comes. And our timeframe could be longer because it all depends on having enough money we can take with us."

"What prompted this?"

"What I've come to see as a toxic environment at Spurgeon. I have real problems with it, but I'm not in a position to leave. Much like Mandy Peterson, options are limited at the moment."

"You could leave and land with another firm fairly easily."

"Possibly, but there are two things that would concern me -- first, I wouldn't have a patron like Murray Matheson; second, Spurgeon could easily blackball me. If I go, it has to be independent with enough money under my personal management to survive what will likely be an all-out war for a year or two."

"You know I'm there with you, and I trust you to decide when the time is right. You, me, and who else?"

"An analyst. I agreed to start teaching Ellie the ropes this Summer, so she'd be perfect. We'd also need a secretary, though nobody who has ever worked at Spurgeon. The last thing I want is someone with the attitude most of the secretaries have."

"I thought Anna was cool."

"My problem with her is that she wouldn't even listen to my explanation about going to Kansas to help Bev. She assumed Bev and I will marry, and I don't see that happening. And she won't listen to any explanation."

"From what you say, Bev seems unstable."

"Her attorney called it 'postpartum depression,' and he said it's a poorly understood condition. Or, as a friend called it, 'Baby Blues'. But the bigger problem is she hasn't trusted me enough to let me help her and has run away twice. That makes me concerned about how she'd respond to adversity in the future."

"I get it," Jack said, then glanced over his shoulder. "He's still there."

"Yeah, I see him in the mirror. He has no reason to try to hide the fact that he's following me at this point."

"But doesn't that mean he would know you won't lead him to her?"

"He's looking for anything he can find. I bet you anything he finds Kristy and Kasey at some point and asks them, along with Violet. Kasey knows nothing, and you should advise Kristy to give the same response I did."

"I explained everything last night; well, as much as I know. Kristy won't say a word. And I'm sure none of the other girls will. They were all eating dinner with us when I explained what had happened."

"Good. Mr. Farley can waste his time."

We arrived at the Hancock Center and parted to take the elevators up to the Spurgeon floors. I completed my usual morning routine, created my morning report, then set about researching terrorist groups in the Middle East at Murray Matheson's request. Just after 10:00am, the phone rang.

"FX Desk, Kane."

"Mr. Kane, this is Barney Evers at Windy City Travel."

"What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to let you know someone was here asking about your trip to Kansas City. I explained confidentiality didn't allow me to answer, but I felt I should call you."

"Thanks," I replied. "It's a private investigator looking for my friend. I'm not sure how he found out I'd been to Kansas City."

"If it's not prying, what prompted the emergency trip?"

"My friend was hospitalized, and I flew down to help her and her daughter."

"If the police were involved in any way, they'd have your friend's name, and a bit of sleuthing would allow an investigator to figure it out. The motel clerk is the most likely source, given twenty bucks would probably get them to admit you were there and that we made the reservation."

"OK. Thanks for letting me know. Out of curiosity, could the investigator get the passenger list?"

"Flight manifests are guarded carefully by airlines, and unless there is an accident, not reported to the government for domestic flights. Generally speaking, you can't even call and ask if your loved one boarded a flight and expect an answer. A subpoena or warrant would be required for the police to ask, but you'd have to ask a lawyer for details of that. We guard our records the same way."

"Thanks."

"Call anytime you need travel assistance!"

"Will do!"

We ended the call, and I made a note about the call in my notebook. It didn't surprise me that they had figured out Bev had been in Kansas, given she'd registered at the hotel, interacted with the police, and been hospitalized. If I had to guess, someone from the investigator's firm had contacted the McGills, and they had answered the question about where Bev had gone.

From there, the clerk from the motel could tell them I'd been there, and I was sure twenty bucks would be enough to get that answer, as Barney had suggested. That was one possibility for how they discovered that Windy City Travel had booked the hotel and flight, but it was also possible someone had asked a Spurgeon employee for the name of the firm travel agency. And if I could work out how to do it multiple ways in two minutes, a professional investigator surely could do it.

The one thing the motel clerk couldn't do was identify Violet by name. I hadn't needed to give her name because I had paid for both rooms. The police and social worker had Violet's name, but I didn't think they'd freely give that information to the investigator. I suspected the investigative firm could eventually figure it out, but so long as that didn't happen before Monday, we were probably safe.

I recalled what Nelson had said about disappearing and realized I'd left a trail the police could easily follow, especially given I'd interacted with them. But even without that interaction, they could get the airline passenger manifest, the hotel records, and the hospital records simply by convincing a judge they needed them. I suspected it would be more difficult for the investigator, but if he stuck at it long enough, he'd succeed because I wasn't going to cut off all contact with Bev. I was relying on him giving up because the Newtons couldn't afford to keep searching, but I knew that wasn't a sure thing.

I had lunch at my usual time, then went to the gym, and not long after I returned, Beth called to say that she'd shown Bev the apartment, and Bev had agreed to move in. That made me happy, and meant Bev would be out of Violet's house, which would limit the chances of her being found that way, and also make Violet happy we could have our dinners together with just the two of us. I asked Beth to arrange for a phone in the apartment, and she agreed to do so. I thanked her, and after we said 'goodbye', I hung up and went back to work.

Late in the afternoon, I called Lily and asked her to get in touch with Violet and Bev and help Bev move if she needed it. Lily asked questions, and I declined to answer, saying I'd explain when I saw her in a week. She promised to do as I'd asked, and I thanked her.

Almost as soon as I'd hung up, Bev called to tell me what Beth had already told me.

"When will you know about the job?" I asked.

"Monday," Bev replied. "I feel pretty good about it."

"Good! I asked Lily to get in touch with Violet in case you needed help moving, but I know you don't have much with you."

"I appreciate everything you've done, Jonny. Come see me?"

"Sometime next week," I said. "I'll get in touch through Beth because the phone won't be hooked up until next week. If you need me, Beth will let you use the phone in the shop to call."

"Are you and she involved?"

"We're friends," I replied. "I bought my suits there, and I've referred other guys there. We go to dinner about once a month. And before you ask, she's Jewish and will only marry a Jewish guy."

Bev laughed, "I know your reputation from what you've said, Jonny!"

"Assuming I haven't embellished what I've told you about my success with girls."

"I don't believe you've embellished! In fact, if anything, I suspect you've been more generous with your affections than you've let on!"

"I did admit to having plenty of opportunities, and that's where I have to leave it. You sound better."

"The support group and the counselor have really helped, and having a job will make a big difference. Do you think being a paralegal is a good career?"

"From what I've heard, it is. And who knows? Maybe you end up going to law school? Or you get your teaching certificate. You'll qualify for in-state tuition in about a year, and Circle is close to Violet's house, so not far from the apartment, either."

"What have you told your mom?"

"Nothing more than that you're safe, and I know where you are. That would have been obvious from the fact that Glen sent the check to me, and I'm sure he shared at least that much with my mom."

"Are they still seeing each other?"

"When I spoke to my mom last Sunday, he was about to take her to dinner. I'm not sure she'll marry him, but at least she's giving him a chance."

"He really is a nice guy," Bev replied. "You know I basically seduced him, right?"

"You implied that, yes, but it's none of my business."

"You're probably the only person on the planet who wouldn't want to know more and would never hold it against me."

"You were both single, you made it clear he didn't coërce you, and you were over sixteen, so I can't judge. Heck, if you had been fifteen, I wouldn't have cared, though the law sure would have."

"There was no way anyone was going to be my first except you, Jonny."

"How long did you plan that?"

"From about the time I got my period."

"Seriously?!"

"You never caught on until I kissed you on my sixteenth birthday!"

"I was pretty clueless, though I had noticed you had turned into a girl."

"I was always a girl, you dork!"

"You know what I mean! I didn't see you that way until you developed, and even then, it was simply my friend, the cute girl. I didn't even think about sex with you at all until about twenty seconds before it happened! It was when I saw your breasts I realized what was about to happen."

"And when I saw you, I wasn't sure it could happen, but...oh my God! Anyway, I need to let you get back to work. What day next week?"

I was reasonably certain that would be safe, but to be sure, I'd take the L into the city rather than my car. I wouldn't need it, and it wouldn't take much longer than driving, and I'd save at least $20 on parking.

"I'll come by Saturday afternoon, and we can have dinner," I said.

"Great! Thanks again, Jonny!"

"You're welcome."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, pleased at how things had gone so far. In my estimation, they only needed to go right for another week or so, and then we'd be home-free. I was tempted to call the Newtons and ask them to back off, but I feared that would only enrage Jim Newton and cause him to redouble his efforts.

At the end of the day, I met Kristy, Kasey, and Jack in the lobby, and we agreed to go to Italian Village for dinner. We took the bus, as usual, and I noticed the dark blue Ford following us.

"There's nothing playing at the theatre we want to see," Kristy said once we'd ordered. "I also checked, and there aren't any clubs we can get into with shows we'd want to see."

"What about renting a movie?" I suggested. "We can watch on the projection TV in the basement."

"What movie?" Kasey asked.

"We'll check at the video store. Jack, we can rent Kelly's Heroes for tomorrow, if you want."

"That sounds good."

"What's that?" Kasey asked.

"A World War II comedy," Jack said. "It's actually pretty good."

"I'm OK with that for tonight," Kasey said. "I actually like war movies, and comedy is always good."

"Kristy?" Jack inquired.

"Sure," she agreed.

She didn't sound convinced, but I knew Jack had done things with her that didn't thrill him, so it made sense she'd agree to do something he wanted to do even if it didn't thrill her. We had a nice meal, and once we'd ordered dessert, the girls excused themselves to use the restroom.

"Why do they always go in pairs?" Jack asked. "I'd never invite another guy to go to the john with me!"

I chuckled, "Me, either, but chicks are different. But forget bathrooms. Did you see the dark blue Ford when we came out of the Hancock Center to get on the bus?"

"Yes. That dude has to have the most boring life ever if he's watching us!"

"Unless he can put some kind of spy camera in our bedrooms!" I chuckled.

"Then he'd just be jealous!" Jack replied with a grin. "How did things go with your friend?"

"She had her interview and said it went well and then saw the apartment and agreed to lease it. Violet and Lily will help her move her things there over the weekend. The investigator is getting closer, though. He found out about the trip to Kansas and called the travel agency to try to get information from them."

"How did he figure that out?"

"I'm not sure, but if I had to guess, her friends in St. Louis revealed she'd gone to Overland Park, and they traced her to the motel or hospital and figured out I was there and either bribed the motel clerk or called Spurgeon to ask who they used for travel. Fortunately, airline passenger lists are private, so he can't find Violet's name unless the cop or social worker in Kansas gave it out, and I can't imagine them sharing information with an out-of-town investigator. Once Bev moves tomorrow, Violet becomes a complete dead end, so I think we can successfully run out the clock here."

"I hope so," Jack said. "I know how much you care for Bev. Will you invite her on Fridays?"

"No. Bev and I are in a very different place from where we were last year when she visited. And here come the girls."

They rejoined us, we had our dessert, then left the restaurant to take the bus back to the Hancock Center. I didn't see the dark blue Ford, which didn't surprise me because it should have been clear to the investigator I was on a double date and Bev wasn't with us.

"Am I taking you back to Loyola after the movie?" I asked Kasey when we arrived home after stopping at the video store.

"I thought you wanted me to spend the night," she said.

"I do, but I wasn't making any assumptions."

"I want to stay."

"Great!" I replied.

We popped popcorn, got drinks, then headed to the basement to watch Kelly's Heroes on the projection TV as we'd planned. The movie was great and had the right mix of comedy and action, and we all enjoyed it. When the movie finished, I rewound the tape, put it in its box, and took it upstairs with us, leaving it on the kitchen counter when Kasey and I went up to my room.

"Slow and gentle like the first time?" she asked.

"If that's what you want, yes, of course!"

"It is! And I get you to myself all night! Do you need to be up early in the morning?"

"No."

"Good!"

April 23, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Kasey had decided to stay Saturday and Saturday night, and we'd had a lazy day around the house except for grocery shopping, stopping at the dry cleaners, and returning the tape. Saturday night had been a repeat of Friday night, and Kasey and I had fooled around until around 3:00am, not waking until just before 10:00am on Sunday morning.

"Shower?" I asked.

"Yes," she agreed.

We got out of bed, I led her to the bathroom, and once I'd adjusted the water temperature, we got under the spray.

"I hope you'll ask me out again," she said as I soaped her lithe body.

"I will, but you know I'm seeing several different girls."

"I watched you screw six other girls, so, duh!"

"Obviously, but what I was trying to say is that it might not be for a few weeks."

"It's been nearly two months since I last saw you, well, since we last screwed because I saw you at the housewarming. I'd like it if it was less than two months!"

"Just out of curiosity, do you live in the area?"

"Carol Stream. Why?"

"I was just wondering if you'd be around after the semester ends. A bunch of the girls go home, so I'll have more availability."

"Cool! Just call!"

"I will."

I finished washing Kasey, who did the same for me, and after we rinsed off, we got out of the shower, dried, dressed, and went downstairs to have an early lunch. Once we'd eaten, I drove her back to Loyola, then returned home to spend the afternoon with my housemates. Just after 2:00pm, I called my mom for our weekly chat.

"Jim Newton gave me a piece of his mind this morning," Mom said.

"What did he say?"

"That you were purposefully evading his investigator, and he knows Bev is with you."

"He's wrong about where Bev is, and yes, I did ditch the investigator on Thursday."

"Have you encouraged Bev to call home?"

"Yes, and I encouraged her to speak to Glen. She adamantly refused to do either. You should suggest to Jim Newton that he stop because if the investigator does eventually find Bev, she'll get a restraining order against her parents. That would make it illegal for them to even call her. If her parents back off, I think I'll eventually be able to get her to call them. If they force the issue, they'll never see their granddaughter again. That's not a threat, mind you, simply an acknowledgment of reality."

"I don't think he'll listen to anything I say. I'll see if Julie is receptive, but I wouldn't count on it."

"They're being foolish, and you need to convince them that Bev wants her space. I hated that but reluctantly gave it to her until she needed me. If they back off, they have a chance of success. If they don't, it'll permanently sunder the relationship."

"I hear you, and I know what you mean because of what happened with my parents."

"Keiko encouraged me to get in touch with Grandpa and Grandma because Japanese culture strongly values ancestors, and at some point, her grandfather would ask to meet my family."

"That sounds serious!"

"Not yet," I replied. "It came up because Keiko asked about my family. She said it was something that might come up that could cause trouble in the future if we were to decide to be a couple. Do you have a problem with it?"

"You have to decide for yourself, Jonathan. I would have given you their phone number and address at any time, but you never asked."

"I had no reason to," I replied. "I knew how you felt, and that was sufficient."

"But this Japanese girl is worth changing your mind?"

"Japanese-American, and I think she's worth considering changing my mind. As I've said to others, Grandpa and Grandma haven't reached out to me even though Uncle Alec and Aunt Wendy have let them know I'm here. That said, if you object, I won't."

"I don't object."

"OK. How are things with Glen?"

"I'm taking it slowly. He did impress me by telling me the truth and by willingly paying child support. And I've taken what you said about it happening before we met into account. I'm just not sure."

"Take your time," I replied. "But you did say you enjoyed your time with him!"

"You brat!" Mom exclaimed. "Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"Mom, if you knew what I was implying, then your mind is in exactly the same place!"

"YOU!" she screeched, but she was laughing.

"I want to share something important, but this can go no further."

"Of course. What?"

"Bev stated clearly and unequivocally that she seduced Glen. I think that's important for you to know. He was single at the time, which means he wasn't cheating, and Bev made the first moves."

"That doesn't change the fact that his judgment is questionable."

"Because a sexy seventeen-year-old who wasn't in any of his classes came to him? Or because he asked my mom on a date?"

"YOU JERK!" Mom exclaimed.

"Thank you," I chuckled. "You know I love you, Mom."

"And you show it by giving me a hard time?"

"Of course! My point here is not to be judgmental. I've seen WAY too many judgmental people in my life."

"Not compared to me," Mom said. "And it started the second it was obvious I was pregnant with you."

"I can imagine."

"Changing topics, how is work?" Mom asked.

"This week was fairly routine. Not big plays, just supporting the traders with information and analysis. How are things at the school?"

"Probably exactly the same as you left it. Only a few new teachers for the Fall, and Mrs. Lucas will retire after forty-two years."

"She was a pretty good English teacher," I replied. "She got on my case for not putting in enough effort, the same as nearly every other teacher."

"I let her know how successful you've been, and she said she was sure you had the ability if you would only apply yourself."

"I don't disagree, but I am not complaining about how things have turned out."

"Nor should you! I'll let you go, and we'll speak next Sunday."

"Sounds good. I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Jonathan."

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, then went downstairs to rejoin my housemates.

Ellie joined my housemates and me for dinner that evening, and we spent some time discussing how the stock, bond, commodities, and currency markets worked, then spent several hours fooling around before falling asleep sweaty and sated.

April 26, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Just after lunch on Tuesday afternoon, I received the call I'd been expecting.

"You were right," Violet said. "The investigator showed up at the plumbing company about twenty minutes ago and asked me about Bev. I said exactly what you told me to say. He wasn't happy and pressed me about Bev, but my boss told him to get lost."

"Thanks for letting me know. There is literally nothing that ties her to you or your house, and she's no longer there, so he's totally barking up the wrong tree. Just remember what I said last night -- don't visit her before next weekend."

"I won't. She knows I'm busy with work and class, so she wasn't suspicious. You heard she got the job, right?"

"She called me yesterday and let me know. She starts on Monday. I'll thank Nelson when I see him tonight. How is the second day on the new job?"

"Same as what I told you at dinner last night! I'm happy we're back to just you and me. It's not that I don't like Bev; I just like having you to myself. Does that sound selfish?"

"Not at all! I like spending time with you, too."

"I need to get back to work, but I wanted to let you know the investigator stopped by."

"And I appreciate it. See you tomorrow night!"

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, happy that my plan had worked so far, and with nobody seeing Bev before the weekend, the chances of the investigator finding her were slim. I hadn't noticed the dark blue sedan following me, so unless he had changed cars, I figured I wasn't being watched. If I was, or if he showed up at the end of the day, he'd follow me to Jeri's house, which was another dead end for him. Eventually, though, there would be employment records, but I was positive that Nelson would do what was necessary to protect Bev legally.

At the end of the day, I met Allyson in the lobby, and we headed to the parking garage. On the drive to Jeri's, I checked my rearview mirror and didn't see the 'tail car'.

"Why do you keep checking your mirror?" Allyson asked as I made a turn to find a parking spot.

"A private investigator hired by Bev's parents is trying to find her, and they know I know where she is. He's been following me for about a week, but it appears he either gave up or is taking a break."

"Her parents should just chill and let her calm down."

"I agree completely, as does my mom. They clearly disagree."

"Dumb. But then again, parents aren't always rational."

"Yours seem pretty good."

"And Kristy's, too, but I know plenty who would do exactly what your friends' parents are doing."

"Everything is cool with your parents?"

"You mean about you? Yes. Clara got caught with a guy in her bed, so Dad is FAR more concerned about that than about anything you might have done."

"Oops."

"She was dumb because Dad's schedule changes and he can come home in the middle of the afternoon. He did and found her with a football player. She's grounded and Dad had a talk with the guy's dad that I suspect wasn't friendly."

"I can imagine. It's one thing to suspect; it's another to catch them in the act!"

"Speaking of the act, am I coming home with you after dinner?"

"All you have to do is ask!"

"I just did!" Allyson declared. "Or should I be explicit? I want your gigantic dick in my ultratight pussy! Interested?"

"Very," I chuckled.

I pulled into the alley behind Jeri's house and parked in the short driveway, then Allyson and I went into the house, though I was very much looking forward to what we'd be doing after we went into my house later in the evening.

XL. You Confuse Me

April 26, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"How does your retirement or pension account work, Nelson?" I asked as we had drinks at Jeri's house on Thursday evening.

"I don't know the complete details because I'm not a partner. It's managed by Thomas Hart."

"Would you introduce me to him? I'd like to send him a prospectus and see if he's interested in allowing me to manage the fund."

"Sure. How do you want to do it?"

"I'll write a letter on Spurgeon stationary and send it to him, care of you, along with a prospectus document. I can meet any afternoon."

"OK. As soon as I receive it, I'll ask for a meeting."

"Awesome."

"What are the minimums for anyone who isn't in your 'friends and family' program?"

"A quarter mil."

"I'm sure some of our partners have assets in that range."

"Give them my card and have them call me."

"What do you need in terms of assets you manage to move up?"

"That isn't really the defining factor. It comes down to accurate analysis and success in trading the funds I'm managing. A two-year track record would be enough to become an assistant trader or perhaps a portfolio manager, which actually fits what I'm currently doing on the trading side. How long does it take to become a partner?"

"About ten years. Junior Associate, Associate, and Senior Associate are all basically 'time in grade'. You have to be invited to the partnership and then buy in."

"Buy in?" Allyson asked. "You have to pay?"

"Yes," Nelson replied. "It's a law corporation structured as a partnership, and each partner attorney is a general partner. You buy in when you become a partner, and the partnership buys your shares back when you retire. During your partnership, you receive a share of the profits in addition to your salary and bonuses. As the value of the firm increases, the value of your shares increases. Some private medical practices operate the same way."

"I'm going to be working in a hospital," Allyson said. "I don't think private practice is for me. I'm strongly considering emergency medicine, but I have six years to think about it. Lucy is considering cardiology, and Sylvia will be a nurse in just over a year."

"Sorry, I don't know them," Nelson said.

"My bad," Allyson said. "They're my friends at Loyola; Jonathan has met them."

"Miss Jeri, dinner is served," Karl announced.

As usual, we had a wonderful meal, and each of us gave updates. After dinner, we had dessert and coffee, and when the gathering ended, Jeri asked to speak to me briefly before I left. Allyson didn't object, so Jeri and I went into the library.

"Can we get together, just you and me?" she asked. "Just dinner out."

"I trust you," I said. "And yes."

Jeri smiled, "Thanks. I won't take any more time away from your all-night sex marathon with Allyson."

"I have to work tomorrow, so that won't happen under any circumstances! When did you want to go out?"

"Tuesdays are best for you, so how about May 10th? That's midway between tonight and our next meeting on the 24th."

"Where?"

"You pick and let me know, OK?"

"Sounds good!"

Jeri hugged me, gave me a quick peck on the lips, and then we left the library. Allyson and I said, 'Good night', and we left the Lundgrens' house. After a stop at Loyola to get an overnight bag, we headed to my house. Once there, I checked with Bianca to make sure there were no messages, then Allyson and I headed up to my room.

April 27, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Allyson and I did have a sex marathon, but it didn't last all night. At one point, she'd jokingly suggested inviting Kristy, but I made it clear I felt that was a bad idea, given Kristy and Jack were a couple. When we woke up on Wednesday morning, I was tired, but it had been worth it. We got out of bed and went to the shower.

"There's no extra time this morning, right?" Allyson asked.

"No. We have just enough time to drop you at Loyola and get to work, and Loyola is only about five minutes out of our way."

"Bummer! Next month?"

"Yes, of course," I replied. "Dinner is on the 24th."

"OK to call you sometime before then?"

"Absolutely. Please do."

We finished our showers, dried off, dressed, and went downstairs for breakfast with Jack. After we ate, the three of us left the house. We dropped Allyson at Loyola, and then Jack and I headed for the Hancock Center.

"I didn't realize you were still seeing Allyson," he said.

"I would have thought either she or Kristy would have mentioned it."

"Nope. Not a problem or a concern, just something I didn't realize."

"She's a lot of fun, but we didn't click as a couple the way you and Kristy did."

"I was surprised about that myself because, after that first night, I thought it was just a fun fling, given Allyson's 'accidental' appearance."

"I don't know if they told you, but that wasn't all that dissimilar to how I met Allyson. I was on a date with Kristy, we ran into Allyson, and you can imagine what happened next."

"I don't need to imagine, Bro!" Jack said with a grin. "Been there, done them!"

I laughed, "Yeah. Let's just say my life is nothing like I would have imagined two years ago."

"I dated in High School but couldn't get past first base until Prom night. My one and only time before Kristy and Allyson."

"I was only with Bev before I moved to Chicago."

"And we're both lower-class kids given a chance to show what we can do. Kristy and Allyson would have been way out of my league in High School."

"Bev was the only girl I spoke more than about ten words to from Freshman year on."

"Well, High School is in the past, and our future is big bucks and hot chicks!"

"Just stick with the program, and the bucks will be there. The hot chicks you'll have to handle yourself!"

Jack laughed and turned up the radio to hear the latest skit by Murphy in the morning and his sidekick Beth. They had some girl on the phone who had a Swedish boyfriend, and she said he'd taught her to tell him something in Swedish. About two minutes later, they had some guy from the burbs who spoke Swedish translate the phrase, and Jack and I both broke up laughing.

"That's awesome!" he declared. "By using Swedish, that first caller got to say 'you have a big cock' on the radio!"

"And Murphy's sidekick Beth said 'suitcase' loudly when the kid translated!" I chuckled. "But I heard the kid say 'male appendage' behind that."

"Did Anna ever speak to you in Swedish?"

"She used a few words here and there, but I never actually heard her speak Swedish."

We arrived at the Hancock Center, parted, and when I arrived in the office, I performed my usual morning routine, and delivered my analyst report on time. The morning was routine, and while I was eating my lunch, the phone rang.

"FX Desk, Kane."

"Jonathan, this is Cindy at reception. There's a Ted Farley here asking for you. He doesn't have an appointment."

"Tell him politely to get lost."

"OK."

She ended the call but called back about thirty seconds later.

"Sorry to bother you again, but when I said that you weren't available and that he could call for an appointment, he said he has a letter for you that he needs to hand deliver."

I considered my options and decided there was no harm in going to see him and personally telling him to get lost.

"I'll be right up," I said.

I disconnected the call and used the internal stairs to get to the 30th floor, which allowed me to enter the lobby from the offices rather than the elevator. Rather than have a public confrontation, I asked Mr. Farley to step into the private waiting room.

"I have a letter for you for Beverly Newton from her parents," he said.

I wondered if I should accept it, and as I thought about it, I recalled something from The Godfather.

"Well," I said, "if I accepted that -- in a court of law, they could prove that I have knowledge of her whereabouts."

"Don't get cute with me," he said. "Life isn't like the movies."

"Even so, if I were to accept it, I'd be admitting I'm in contact with her."

"I know you were in Overland Park at the Motel 6 where she'd been registered and collected her car. It's now registered at your house, and her driver's license lists your house as well."

"I have no information for you," I said, repeating what I'd said before.

"Just take the letter," he said, putting the envelope on the table.

I shook my head, "No. She made it clear to the FBI in February that she wanted no contact with her parents. They closed the missing person report and didn't reveal where she was."

"St. Louis, with Jim McGill and his family. Then Overland Park, Kansas. Now Chicago. And you know where she is."

"I have no information for you. I cannot help you."

"You thought you were smart giving me the slip, but you can't keep it up forever."

"I have no information for you. I cannot help you."

I left the waiting room without picking up the envelope and walked over to Cindy.

"That gentleman is not welcome here," I said loud enough for Mr. Farley to hear. "If he remains or returns, please call the CPD, and I'll swear out a complaint."

"I'll make sure all the girls know," Cindy said.

"Thanks."

I didn't look back as I walked to the door to the offices, went through it, and then used the stairs to return to 29. I considered my options and decided I'd use a bit of subterfuge on Saturday in case Mr. Farley was stealthier. I could use the UP/North train, the L, and the subway in a slightly roundabout way, changing trains underground, as well as using the Pedway.

I wondered if taking the letter, then tossing it, might have been a better choice, as it might have placated Mr. Farley, but the more I thought about it, I wasn't convinced that would be the case. It would as, as I'd snarkily said, be an acknowledgment that I knew where she was and was in contact with her. In the end, though, it wasn't a police matter, and nothing I could do would ever convince Jim Newton I wasn't in touch with Bev.

I ate my lunch at my desk, as usual, then went to the gym, though Anna had shifted her schedule so we didn't work out at the same time. I was surprised by that, as I hadn't actually done anything to her and felt she was acting out of character, at least as she'd appeared when we'd been on our dates.

After my workout, I showered, dressed, and headed back to my desk. I contemplated calling Julie Newton but felt that would only incite them rather than get them to back off. I hoped, at some point, they'd give up and allow Bev to have her space because, in the long run, I felt I could convince her to at least speak to them. The longer they persisted, the harder that would be.

Thinking about Bev's relationship with her parents made me think about Keiko's request to at least get in contact with my grandparents. If things were going the way they appeared to be going, discounting Deanna's and Bianca's proposed future, it would be important to Keiko and her grandfather, and that meant I had to do it. I decided the first step was to discuss it with Aunt Wendy when Keiko and I had dinner with her and Uncle Alec on May 8th.

I pushed those thoughts out of my mind, completed my work for the afternoon, then headed to Violet's house for dinner. I didn't see Ted Farley, but I was positive he was following me. After dinner, we headed to class and, following class, we had our usual pie and coffee at the diner. After I walked Violet to her house, I headed home and spent about an hour with my housemates watching TV, including the news.

Not much had happened during the day, and the only interesting thing was the sports report, which revealed the Hawks were tied with the Canucks in the first overtime. If they lost, it wouldn't bode well, as it would give Vancouver home-ice advantage, in that so long as they won all their home games, they'd advance and knock the Hawks out of the playoffs.

"Ready for bed?" I asked Deanna when the news ended.

"As if you have to ask!" she declared.

April 28, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Do you want to have dinner this weekend?" Teri asked after class on Thursday evening.

"The only day I'm free is Sunday," I replied. "If that works for you."

"It does. If you don't object, I'll cook dinner for us. My parents will be out, and Troy will graciously disappear to his girlfriend's house."

"What time?"

"Come by around 5:00pm; dinner will be around 6:00pm."

"Sounds good. I'll see you then."

I left the classroom and headed to the diner to meet Violet. After our usual pie and coffee, I walked her to her house, then headed home.

"Marcia called for you," Bianca said when I arrived at the house. "She said it was OK to call up to 11:00pm. Also, the electric bill and gas bill are in the basket in the kitchen."

"Thanks. I'm going to change and call Marcia, then come back downstairs to watch the news."

I went up to my room, changed into sweats, then used the extension in my room to call Marcia.

"I probably should have asked sooner, but would you be my date to the Inaugural Ball tomorrow night?"

"I have a date tomorrow," I said.

"I know this is asking a lot, but is there any way you could escort me? I'd consider it a huge favor."

"Not saying I can change my plans, but would I need a tux?"

"No. A suit is sufficient for my guest."

"You really should have asked a week or more ago," I said.

"I know. I was just up to my eyeballs in transition work to be able to hit the ground running tomorrow, and time got away from me."

I had to consider how Lily would react, and I wasn't completely sure. All I could do was call and see if she'd be willing to switch dates. It was just early enough that I could call Lily, so I decided to offer to check.

"Let me see if I can change my plans," I said. "I'll call you back in less than ten minutes."

"Thanks, Jonathan. I really, really appreciate it."

We ended our call, and I immediately dialed Lily's house, and she answered.

"Hi, it's Jonathan. I need a huge favor."

"Anything! What?"

"Could we switch our date to Tuesday? I had a last-minute invitation to the Inaugural Ball for Mayor Washington tomorrow evening. I'm trying to build political contacts, and it would really help."

"Tuesday is actually better because Mom will be out until at least midnight! We can have each other as appetizers, and dessert can be chocolate-covered Lily!"

"I appreciate you being flexible and apologize for the short notice."

"It's OK," she said with a soft laugh. "I like being flexible with you. I can find a date for tomorrow night pretty easily, and Tuesday will be lots of fun!"

We said 'goodbye', and I called Marcia back to let her know I could make it.

"Thank you SO much! I owe you big time! The party starts at 6:00pm at the Hyatt Regency. Cocktails for the first hour, then a meal, then dancing. You'll have to listen to political speeches, of course."

"The price of making some good contacts," I replied. "Hopefully, anyway."

"I'll make sure you're introduced to the right people!"

"Thanks. Next time, a bit more notice, please."

"I promise. Meet you in the lobby of the hotel at 6:00pm?"

"Sounds good."

We said 'goodbye', and I headed downstairs to watch the news with my housemates. When the news ended, Bianca accompanied me to bed.

"I did some research," she said after we got into bed. "You said the house is on the French side of the island, right?"

"Yes."

"All the clothing-optional beaches are on the French side, as you suggested, so that's cool. The best clubs are on the Dutch side, though, so we'll need a way to get there. Do you know where the house is?"

"I have an address for it in my bag; it's on Rue de Grande Caye. According to Julie, Noel Spurgeon's secretary, there will be a minibus at the airport to take us to the house. Why?"

"Just curious. Make sure you get the phone number of that company in case we want to hit those clubs."

"What's the drinking age?" I asked.

"Eighteen, so that's not a problem at all."

"Good. I did find out that the Gulfstream III is configured with eight large leather seats and a sleeping cabin. Deanna wants to join the Mile-High Club."

"COUNT ME IN!" Bianca exclaimed. "I'm positive Juliette will be game."

"Deanna did suggest splitting the seven nights as two for you and Juliette, two for Keiko, and two for Deanna and CeCi. She suggested I keep the seventh night open."

"For a target of opportunity?" Bianca teased. "A cute Dutch or French girl?"

"That was Deanna's suggestion. Did you plan to talk all night?"

Bianca laughed, "No! But I haven't had a chance to talk to you this week. We can talk on Saturday if you want to fool around."

"I do!"

April 29, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Friday afternoon, I received a fax from Detective Thomas in Overland Park. I quickly scanned the documents to make sure they were complete, then called to let him know I had them and I'd get back to him within a week. Later in the afternoon, Nelson called to let me know he'd received the letter and prospectus and had taken them to Thomas Hart, who'd promised to look them over and call me sometime the following week.

The Hyatt Regency was a twenty-minute walk from the Hancock Center, so I decided to work until 5:30pm, even though it was a Friday evening, then walked at a leisurely place along Michigan to the river, turned left, and walked a block to the hotel. I arrived about five minutes before I was supposed to meet Marcia, and about a minute later, she walked in wearing a beautiful royal blue dress.

"Very nice," I said after we exchanged a light hug. "I haven't seen you in a dress before!"

"I usually wear skirts or slacks, but obviously, this calls for a dress."

"Well, it looks great on you!"

As I said that, I thought of the joke I'd heard in High School about it looking better on the floor next to my bed, but that didn't seem wise to say to Marcia, even in jest.

"Thanks!"

"Anything special I need to know?"

"Just be yourself. You're basically polite and well-mannered, even if you're blunt. Now that I think about it, a softer approach is probably better with a political crowd because they don't do 'blunt' the way you do, lest they offend their constituents. They're more like doctors who couch what they're saying to soften the blow, so to speak."

"I'll practice my embroidery skills, as my friend's mom from back home called it."

"You bought a house here; isn't Chicago home for you?"

"I suppose, but I still feel as if where my mom lives is 'home'. I suspect that will eventually change, but it hasn't yet."

I followed Marcia to the ballroom, where she presented her invitation, and my name and address were taken to comply with some election regulation as our meals were being provided by the campaign, though we'd have to pay for drinks.

I handed my light overcoat, which I'd removed as soon as I'd entered the building, to the coat check girl, as did Marcia. I put both tags in my pocket, and we went to get drinks. I was surprised when I wasn't carded and was served a shot of bourbon while Marcia was served white wine.

We mingled for the next hour, and I met her colleagues, and just before dinner was served, she introduced me to Mayor Washington. I was only able to speak a few words to him, but I understood my best contacts would be department heads and political operatives, not the Mayor himself. They would provide me with the best information and insight, as well as access to the right people when I needed them, so long as I properly cultivated the relationships.

Dinner was OK and matched what I'd heard about meals at political functions. The speeches were mostly boring, though Jesse Jackson proved to be an excellent orator, even if I didn't agree with everything he said. Once dinner and dessert were finished, a cover band played, and Marcia and I danced several dances, then swapped with several other couples, which allowed me to dance with four different girls before Marcia and I danced again. The party was set to go until after midnight, but when Mayor Washington left about 10:30pm, Marcia indicated it was OK to leave.

"My car is at the Hancock Center," I said. "Let's take a cab there, and I'll give you a lift home."

"Great!" She agreed.

We walked a block to Michigan and hailed a cab, rather than wait in the line in front of the hotel, and fifteen minutes later were in my car on the way to Marcia's townhouse in Lincoln Park.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Marcia asked.

"I did, and I made quite a few contacts and handed out about two dozen cards during the evening. I appreciate the invitation."

"I am sorry that it was at the last minute."

"It's OK. It worked out this time; just don't count on it working every time. Lily was OK with me changing our date to Tuesday."

"The cute, short blonde from your party who looks like a mix of Scandinavian and Greek?"

"Yes. Her mom's ancestors are from England, and her dad was a second-generation Greek-American."

"You gave up getting laid to go to the party with me?"

I laughed, "No comment on what Lily and I might or might not have done, but as the saying goes, 'business before pleasure'!"

"Weirdly, I believe you mean that."

"Honestly? If the choice was between having sex and making dozens of new contacts, the new contacts win hands down."

"It doesn't have to be either/or if you don't want it to."

I considered how to respond and decided the best approach was a goofy one.

"It's kind of late for me to call Lily, and besides, she lives at home."

"You jerk!" Marcia exclaimed. "I meant me!"

"Obviously," I chuckled, "but you know me! It's fairly easy to yank your chain."

"You are a real smart ass!"

"Life is too short to be too serious. Yes, I'm coldly analytical, but I like to have fun, too. I don't mind people teasing me, and I prefer being with people who are good sports about me teasing them."

"Which doesn't include me because I don't always appreciate you being intentionally difficult."

"You're a good sport, at least some of the time. May I ask you to analyze my response and why I would have given a goofy answer?"

"Oh, I know," Marcia replied with a smile. "You're still thinking about what happened in Wisconsin and your conclusion that our relationship should be platonic. You make a joke to deflect the question and give me an out or let me off the hook if I wasn't serious. And to say 'no', if I was."

"That's a fair analysis," I replied.

"I'm going to take a page out of your book. When we get to my place, park, come inside, and I'll give you a blowjob, we can fuck multiple times, and I promise to not be passive the way I was before. In the morning, we can do it again, shower together, and I'll make you breakfast."

"Let me ask you a pair of complementary questions -- what happens to our relationship if we don't, and what happens to our relationship if we do?"

"You're concerned about my ulterior motives?"

"In one sense, I don't actually care what your motives are, so long as you aren't expecting me to behave in a certain way if we do. Wanting me to behave in a certain way is one thing; expecting me to is a different thing altogether."

Marcia was quiet and was obviously thinking about it.

"You mean the silly teenager who thinks giving it up to a guy means they're going to eventually marry?"

"Essentially, but I take issue with the 'giving it up' comment, given in my experience, girls are as interested in sex as guys are, but society tells them they're sluts if they act the same way guys do. I totally get being nervous your first time and worrying about getting pregnant, but it's not about 'giving it up'."

"I think you need a girl's perspective on that," Marcia said. "Maybe the girls you've been with are different, but I know plenty of girls who were pressured into it, such that it really was 'giving it up'."

"Then I put the blame on the guys for pressuring girls, but 'no' is very effective, and a guy who really cared for a girl would accept that answer."

"Oh, right! The same assholes who say, 'You would if you really loved me'? Give me a break! Where were you during High School? A cave?"

"Working two or three jobs," I replied. "And hanging out with Bev in my minimal free time. I'm basing what I say on what my female friends have said. Even the girls who are waiting for marriage are interested; they just choose to wait. That's where that little two-letter word comes in."

"You have no clue how much pressure guys can exert on girls!"

"Says the girl who has been pressuring ME for sex almost since I met her! And worse, who made it clear she wanted it but then denied she wanted it. You know I don't go in for games like that. If you want sex, you say so. If you don't, you say so. What is wrong is implying you're interested, or saying it outright, but then saying 'no', yet continuing to imply interest, then being offended when the guy tells you to put up or shut up."

"Why does that convoluted hypothetical sound like some conversation you had?"

"Because it is. A girl I'm seeing occasionally has made it clear she won't have sex before her wedding night. That's fine because it's her decision. But EVERY time I see her, she talks about sex, insists that's all I want despite me not saying a word about it, and accuses me of only thinking about sex when I'm doing no such thing. It's obvious she is, and I finally got tired of it and told her she had two choices -- put up or shut up -- because the fact that she kept bringing it up meant she either wanted to fight or fuck, and I wasn't interested in fighting."

"I can't believe you said that!" Marcia exclaimed.

"She did have a third option, which I'd given before, to not go out again. She's asked ME out several times. What exactly am I supposed to do if she makes sex part of every conversation, mainly to beat me up about it? And, going back to what I said earlier, she is not the only one pursuing me. You are, and so is one other female friend. I'm not having sex with any of the three of you, and yet it's a constant topic that YOU bring up, as do the other two. And that fits what I said earlier about girls thinking about sex."

"I'm sorry I said anything," Marcia said flatly.

"I know I'm challenging and that I've annoyed you," I replied. "But think about it from my perspective. And now I'm just talking about you and me. Think about our history, everything that you've said and done, and how I've responded, then ask yourself if my response was out of line or if asking what you expected afterwards was prudent and reasonable."

Marcia was quiet for a few minutes and didn't speak until we'd almost reached her townhouse.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I reacted badly."

"And I probably was a bit too strident."

"No, I've given you a series of confusing signals and basically tricked you with the Wisconsin trip, so you had a right to respond the way you did."

"Care to answer the question I put to you?"

"Wait?! You're considering it?"

"I gather as much information as possible before I make a decision."

"If you say 'no', I'll be disappointed, but I wouldn't be a bitch about it or wreck our friendship. If you say 'yes', then I'll be happy, and we continue as before, but have sex, assuming we both want to."

"What about your desire to settle down?"

"You aren't going to do that anytime soon," she replied. "And if I can draw one conclusion from what you said about us, I need to be better in bed. I figure if someone can help me do that, it's you."

"I appreciate the compliment," I said as I pulled up in front of Marcia's townhouse. "But all it takes is having an open mind and telling the guy you're relatively inexperienced."

"Is there something else wrong with me?" she asked as I flipped on my hazards.

"That wasn't the point I was making," I said. "I was pointing out that you could wait to find the right guy and basically do the same thing."

"Time to use your tactic," Marcia said. "I want you to come inside so we can fuck and suck all night. You, not some other guy. You."

Before I could answer, flashing blue lights filled the car.

'MOVE ALONG!' came over the loudspeaker.

"Park and come inside for a drink," Marcia said. "No pressure."

I quickly considered and decided that was OK.

"OK."

Marcia got out, I flipped off my hazards, and as soon as I had pulled away, the blue lights disappeared, and I made a right turn, looking for a parking spot. It took seven minutes of turns in an ever-widening square to find a spot, then five minutes to walk to Marcia's townhouse.

"I thought maybe you'd bailed," Marcia said when she let me in.

"Finding a parking spot on Friday evenings is tough in your neighborhood."

"You're right; I guess I was just a bit paranoid. You remember Jamee, right? She just got off shift."

"Hi, Jamee," I said. "You're at Cook County, right?"

"Yes."

"The fiancée of one of my roommates is a brand new Resident there."

"They don't start until June or July. Is he there now?"

"No, he's at Rush-Presbyterian."

"Then I wouldn't know him. What department?"

"ER."

"I'm in Internal Medicine."

"I have no idea how hospitals work," I replied. "The only time I was in one except to visit someone was when I was born."

"Which should be everyone's goal!" Jamee said. "I'll go to my room and leave you guys. Good night."

"Night," Marcia said.

"Good night," I added.

Marcia went to a cabinet and got a bottle of red wine, which she opened, and then came to me, handed me a glass, and motioned me to sit on the couch. I did, and she sat down next to me.

"Sorry about the cops," she said.

"It was no big deal, and I was double parked. And they didn't roust us or write a citation, so it's no big deal."

"I'm sorry I've been acting so flakey," Marcia said. "It's just...you confuse me."

"In what way?"

"Oh, pretty much every way imaginable!" Marcia said with a wry smile. "I can never quite figure you out, and I can never quite figure out how I feel about you."

"And that argues for or against going to bed together?"

"Yes," Marcia said with a smile.

"Perhaps you should explain."

"You're exactly the kind of guy I think I should marry, but you're not the guy I should marry. You're exactly the kind of guy I tried to avoid in High School and college, but you're the guy to whom I want to give my first blowjob and who I want to have fuck my brains out. You're the kind of guy who annoys me, but I want to be around you. You're the kind of guy that has dads contemplating buying shotguns but who are happy if you marry their daughter."

"An interesting take, and I can't find any weakness in that argument."

"Does that mean 'yes'?"

"No, it means I understand why you're confused. And if you're confused, that argues against doing anything."

"Even if I'm not confused about what I want tonight?"

"Being horny might be a reason to have sex, but is it enough of a reason to have sex with me?"

"You know how I was last time, and I trust you, and I'm comfortable with you. Can I ask a really dumb question?"

"What?"

"When a guy has an orgasm, how much comes out?"

"Do you want the smart-ass answer or a truthful one?"

"Truthful."

"I can't say exactly for what I hope are obvious reasons, but I think it's about a tablespoon or two."

"I heard girls say 'mouthful'."

I shrugged, "I think it's all relative."

"Has any girl ever told you what it tastes like?"

"Your friends didn't?"

"I'm not sure I trust what they've said."

"Slightly bitter, but it can vary based on what I've eaten."

"You've asked?"

"I've tasted by kissing a girl afterwards."

"And you really like giving oral sex?"

"I do. When we were together, it was obvious you didn't want me to do that, so I didn't."

"I was nervous and afraid, in addition to being relatively inexperienced and a bit clueless. But now, I'm confident I want to. Finish your wine, then come upstairs. I'll suck you until you cum in my mouth, then you can fuck my brains out, and after that, we'll fuck, suck, and do anything you want. I promise I won't be crazy in the morning or after. We'll be friends, we'll help each other, and do it in the future if we both like it and both want to do it again."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"I have some conditions."

"What?" Marcia asked.

"First, no covers; second, no clothes until we dress after we shower together; third, we leave the lights on."

The previous time, we'd been under the covers, the lights had been out, and Marcia had put on a nightgown after our single round.

"I agree," Marcia said.

"You're still on the Pill?"

"Yes."

I downed the rest of my wine, stood up, and when Marcia stood up, I led her up to her bedroom. I shut the door and pulled down the comforter on the bed while Marcia turned on the radio. We looked at each other, and I began removing my suit, and she removed her dress. Two minutes later, we were naked, having taken the time to hang my suit and her dress in the closet.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to get that all the way into my mouth! I had no clue it was that big!"

She hadn't seen me erect the previous time because of the aforementioned conditions.

"That's not necessary. The head is the most sensitive part, so that's enough. You can bob a bit, swirl your tongue, and suck, and use your hand to stroke my shaft. That right there is the basic recipe for a good blowjob. The only caveat is to be careful with your teeth.

"I bet! I also bet you won't object if I have to practice several times to get it right?"

I chuckled, "No, I won't. Of course, there's always sixty-nine, so I can pleasure you while you're pleasuring me. But I think your first one should be basic so you can get the hang of it."

"One more question," Marcia said. "How do I know when it's going to happen?"

"I twitch, but I can warn you."

"And what do I do when that happens?"

"Stroke faster, suck a bit harder, and swirl your tongue."

"When do I swallow?"

"Whenever you want. There are several spurts, and you can swallow at any point, wait until I've finished cumming, or wait until we've kissed."

"Wait! With it still in my mouth?"

"I've discovered that some girls really, really get off on that. I wouldn't advise surprising a guy by doing that, though."

"Get in bed and let me give my first blowjob."

"You don't want a kiss first?" I asked.

"I think I'll wait until after," she smirked with a twinkle in her eye that clearly telegraphed her intent.

XLI. What Are You Going To Do?

April 29, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Soon," I groaned as Marcia sucked, stroked, and swirled her tongue.

I knew my body well enough, and a few seconds later, I twitched as Marcia stroked faster, sucked harder, and swirled her tongue faster. A few seconds later, a jet of cum shot into Marcia's mouth. She coughed and spluttered but didn't stop pleasuring me as additional spurts entered her mouth.

She continued for close to a minute after the last spurt, then released me, and true to her implication before we'd begun, French kissed me without swallowing. We kissed for a couple of minutes before Marcia finally broke the kiss.

"That was more fun than I thought it would be!" she declared.

"If you enjoyed that, just wait! On your back, please!"

"I'm curious, because nobody has ever done that to me, but how long do you do it?"

"How many orgasms do you want?" I asked with a grin.

Marcia laughed softly, moved to her back, and spread her legs invitingly.

April 30, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"I apologize," Marcia said as we got out of bed on Saturday morning.

"For what?" I asked.

"Being such a...I don't even know what the word is...when you stayed the first night."

"There's no need to apologize for naïveté or inexperience! Last night was a lot of fun, and the 'good morning blowjob' was awesome! If you want to get back in bed, I'd be happy to have another vigorous screw."

Marcia laughed softly, "Oh, God, yes!"

I took her hand led her back to bed, and after I brought her off twice with my mouth, we screwed hard, then got out of bed and went to the shower.

"Do you want to hear something silly?" she asked as she turned on the tap.

"What's that?"

"Last time, I was totally uncomfortable with you seeing me naked."

"I think turning out the lights, being under the covers, and you putting on a nightgown once we'd finished telegraphed that quite clearly! I hope you realize that you're sexy."

Marcia laughed softly as we got into the shower.

"I certainly didn't ever feel that way before last night. I behaved more like a High School girl than a college graduate."

"Not last night or this morning!" I said as I began soaping her body.

"It was like once I took you into my mouth, all my inhibitions disappeared."

"And now you're comfortable with your body and what I suppose we'll call adult sex."

"True," Marcia agreed. "I really liked being on top. I'd never done that before, either."

"Nor taken a shower with someone!"

"This is fun, too. I was really an idiot."

"No, you weren't. Naïveté is not about being dumb, just about being inexperienced or uninformed."

"You don't seem to have had that problem."

"The difference is my first time was with someone I'd known for over fourteen years and someone with whom I was totally comfortable and had shared everything. It just felt natural to be naked with Bev."

"But things fell apart, right?" Marcia asked as she moved under the spray to rinse off the lather.

"Mainly because I screwed up and didn't communicate with her, and then things kind of spiraled out of control. We both made big mistakes."

"And those can't be fixed?" Marcia asked as she began lathering my chest.

"I honestly don't know," I replied. "Bev has a bunch of things she has to work through before that can happen. I'll do everything I can to help, but in the end, it's up to her."

"Uhm, before I continue, is washing a certain part of you going to cause problems?"

I chuckled, "It often has a mind of its own, but after three blowjobs and four screws, I think you're safe! Well, unless you don't want to be safe!"

Marcia laughed softly and ran her soapy hands over my groin. I didn't have the reaction she'd asked about, which didn't surprise me because, after seven times in just over seven hours, and the most recent less than ten minutes before, it would more than just a bit of stroking to get me hard. She finished soaping me, I rinsed off, then we got out of the shower. We dried off, dressed, then went downstairs so Marcia could make the breakfast she'd promised.

We ate bacon, eggs, and toast, then I helped Marcia clean up. When the last plate was dried and put away, Marcia walked me to the door.

"I'd like to do this again," she said.

"I'm busy for the next ten days or so. Once my class ends in May, I'll have more free time."

"This is just a casual thing, so I know it won't be too often. But I absolutely want to see you again."

"We'll stay in touch," I replied.

"I have something you want...contacts!" Marcia said saucily.

"It's more than that," I replied. "If it were only that, I'd have gone home last night."

"Because the first time sucked. But then again, so did this time, just in a different way!"

"And your attitude has changed completely as well. Honestly, if the last twelve hours are representative of a new mindset, I think you'll be in a committed relationship before the end of the year."

"What makes you say that?"

"Your fear of physical intimacy was causing you to act, and please take this as coming from a friend, flaky. You won't be as tentative or give off conflicting messages, and that will change everything."

"How the heck does a twenty-year-old kid figure out something like that?"

"An analytical mind, curiosity, and the right friends who have steered me in the right direction."

"You certainly analyzed me correctly last night!"

I smiled, "Glad I could help!"

We exchanged a hug and a quick kiss, then I left the townhouse to walk to my car, which had been parked some distance away. About twenty minutes later, I parked in the driveway, then walked into the house.

"That was unexpected!" Bianca said with a smirk when I walked in.

"Are you keeping score now?"

"I should! But then you'll need to give me a rating like the Olympic judges in skating and gymnastics!"

"I'm thinking that's a bad idea," I replied.

"I don't! Come have some coffee."

"Let me change out of my suit, please. Then we need to go grocery shopping and stop at the dry cleaners."

"Just you and me so we can chat?"

"That's fine, though if someone else offers to come along, it's tough to say 'no'."

I went upstairs to change, then came back downstairs, and Bianca and I left for Jewel.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked once I'd backed out of the driveway.

"If you mean from what I said on Thursday night, nothing specific. So, you and Marcia?"

"Just friends," I replied. "I just don't see her as a good life partner."

"You have Keiko sized up for a wedding dress."

"I wouldn't go that far," I replied. "But the analytical side says she checks all the boxes."

"And you've checked HER box and obviously found it to be excellent?" Bianca teased.

"Cute."

"I know I might be hurting my case, but if you think that, why not give her what she clearly wants? And I don't mean eight hard inches!"

"I think you know the answer to that."

"Violet?"

I nodded, "She's made tremendous progress. Whether or not she can make more is an open question. And given Keiko isn't pushing the issue, I'd prefer to let things play out."

"What's your gut feeling?"

"That Violet and I will be close friends, but it will never move beyond simple hugs and kisses on the cheek. She has really come out of her shell and is open about her feelings, and that's her take as well, at least if I can read between the lines. But Violet isn't the only reason."

"Oh?"

"What kind of moron would do anything to mess up a week in Saint Martin with five gorgeous girls, all of whom want to have sex with him?!"

Bianca laughed, "There is that! I do have one important request, and I'm going to state it clearly -- before you ask Keiko to marry you, the three of us sit down and discuss me having a kid with you."

"I don't think Keiko would be opposed so long as that happened before we married, if that's what ultimately happens."

"Which sets the timeline for at least three years from now, given I want to graduate and get a job before I get pregnant."

"Which dovetails with Keiko's timeline, at least as I understand it. But we're getting way ahead of the game! I have no plans to commit to anyone in the near term, and I'm certainly not going to do it on the spur of the moment."

"Not even for Violet?"

"That would be the epitome of stupid," I replied. "That said, I'm positive she'd want an exclusive relationship, but she and I would have to have several serious conversations, given that I am positive that she'd see moving beyond hugs and kisses on the cheek as a commitment."

"A French kiss is the equivalent of a commitment?"

"Think about who she is and what she's been through, and just what it would take psychologically for her to get to that point and what it would mean for her. In a sense, it's no different from Teri's insistence on marriage before sex. If Teri were to relent, it would be on the understanding it was a formal commitment to marry."

"And that would be OK with you?"

I shrugged, "Do you really think a 'test drive' is necessary? I mean, you can discuss things beforehand and have a pretty good idea of whether or not your views are compatible. And it's not as if sex is difficult! You and Shelly are proof that a first time can be awesome for both partners and that it's easy to figure it out! In fact, all the virgins I've been with have been awesome. I've had what you might call mediocre sex on one occasion, and that was with an experienced girl, and it got better."

"I see your point," Bianca replied. "I think it might be different from a girl's perspective, as male performance is highly variable, at least according to my friends."

"I wouldn't know from experience!" I chuckled. "Or even discussing it, because it's a topic which holds zero interest for me. That said, I can see your point, though communication would solve most of it, I think."

"Not lack of stamina or unwillingness to do things the girl wants to do."

"On the first one, sure, but the second? That was my point about communication. If a girl tells me she doesn't like oral sex, that's a potential red flag. I'd say you'd say the same thing about a guy."

"Or a girl! Though there are dildos, fingers, and vibrators."

"You?"

"I have fingers, yes!" Bianca smirked.

"Not what I meant, and you know it!"

"Oh," Bianca said flatly.

"Now you're messing with me the way I mess with everyone else!"

"So I learned from an expert, just as I did with sex! Yes, I have a vibrator and a dildo."

"Is it the 'personal massager' type from Osco?" I asked.

"No. I bought both at The Pleasure Chest, and the dildo is silicone, not plastic, and has a small projection that you push against your clitoral hood, and the orgasms are out of this world."

"Bested by technology," I chuckled.

"There's a big difference," Bianca said. "The vibrator is pure pleasure; orgasms with you are emotionally fulfilling. If I had to choose, I'd much rather have you fuck me than use the vibrator on myself. Of course, I could use it on YOU!"

"What is it with you wanting to put stuff in my butt?" I asked.

Bianca laughed softly, "Not interested in taking a walk on the wild side?"

"That isn't what I said! I'm actually curious what it does for you."

"I don't think you'll accept the answer that it excites me."

"If that's all it is, then I'll accept it. I think there's more."

"Power and dominance," Bianca replied. "There's something powerful about penetration. And honestly, I mean that from both perspectives. I like the feeling of being penetrated, which demonstrates the power pussy has on guys. Have you heard the joke about little Johnny and his friend Janey?"

"No."

"One day, in kindergarten, little Johnny goes to his friend Janey, shows her his dick, and says, 'I have one of these, and you don't'. She leaves crying. The next day she comes to school pulls down her panties and shows him her pussy. 'Mom says I have one of these, and with one of these, I can get as many of those as I want!'."

I laughed hard, "A good point which neatly defines the fact that girls are, ultimately, in control."

"Yes, but the power is subtly different from being the one who penetrates. So that's why. And you know I'm willing to try just about anything that doesn't involve pain or injury. And you know it's not just me; look at Katy and Esme as another example. Katy's had threesomes in every configuration now -- three girls, two girls and a guy, and two guys and a girl. And Esme is absolutely going to go for that. In fact, I'd wager they have the equivalent of a baseball game where everyone does everyone in every configuration."

"I believe the technical term for that is 'orgy'!"

"My cousin is wild enough to go for it! And you know Katy is."

"That would require bisexual guys, though, right?"

"I think it depends on how you mean that. First, you can have sex with someone you aren't attracted to, and second, most definitions are either overly broad or overly narrow. I wouldn't call Shelly bi because she really is only attracted to guys. What she and I had was different. She won't miss it at all.

"I, on the other hand, am basically a lesbian, as I don't have any real interest in sex with guys and want a life partner who is a girl. That said, I really enjoy fooling around with you. Other than you, the only way I'd even consider sex with another guy is if you and I end up not having a kid together for some reason."

"I'm trying to figure out the sequence of events and your thinking."

"Partly, you could blame society and my family. I knew I was attracted to girls in High School, but growing up in a traditional, conservative Catholic family, I knew I was supposed to get married, have sex only with my husband, have kids, and do all the other traditional things.

"Because of that, I kind of suppressed my feelings and made out with guys, even though it didn't feel quite right. I wasn't grossed out, but it just didn't do anything special for me. I participated in Paula's games because I wanted to see a guy and a girl have sex. Once I saw Shelly, I was curious and intrigued. Of course, I also was basically drooling over Shelly as much as you were!"

"And that's what led to you suggesting being together with me and then enticing Shelly to experiment with you."

"Yes," Bianca agreed, "though she did so freely."

"Yes, of course. I meant simply providing the enticement, which she freely accepted. I didn't mean you coërced her or anything. I think I know the answer to this, but who turned you on more?"

"Shelly, obviously! It was seeing her have sex with you that made me decide to go for it. I discovered I liked it and wanted to keep doing it, but I really had my eye set on Shelly."

"And now things become clearer!"

"That doesn't bother you, does it?"

"Not in the least. It's not as if I didn't benefit from your desire! And that continues to be true! So, you and Juliette?"

I saw Bianca shrug out of the corner of my eye as I pulled into the Jewel parking lot.

"We'll see. I like her a lot, and she's fun both in bed and out of bed. I doubt she'd have a problem with me having a kid with you, either."

"So she checks all the boxes, has checked your box, and you've checked her box!"

Bianca laughed, "Nice way to use my own words against me! One question before we get out of the car."

"What's that?"

"OK to bring my vibrator to Saint Martin? I figure a tropical paradise is the place to go for the extreme experiment!"

I chuckled, "Oh, hell, why not?! We're going to a nude beach, for sure, so playing with your toys seems to fit."

"Excellent!" Bianca exclaimed.

We got out of the car, and our conversation turned to mundane things lest we attract attention or offend anyone in the store. We completed our shopping, stopped at the dry cleaners, then headed home. Once we'd put away the groceries and I'd hung up my suits and shirts, I changed clothes, then left the house to head into the Loop to see Bev.

I decided to take the UP/North line, as there was a train running soon, and that would mean walking only a block-and-a-half to the station rather than ten blocks to the L. It also meant I'd be able to use a random exit from the downtown station, making it harder for the investigator to follow me, which I had to assume was the case.

As I walked to the train, I looked for both the blue Ford and the investigator and didn't see either of them anywhere. The train arrived about ten minutes later and whisked me into the city. I left the CN/W Station by the closest exit to the platform, walked to Lake Street, climbed the platform, and boarded a Lake-Dan Ryan L train, which carried me to State and Lake, where I switched to the subway, which I could do without a paper transfer.

That took me to the Harrison stop, where, confident there was no way I was followed, I exited the subway. I climbed the steps, then walked the three blocks to the tailor shop. I walked around to the alley, climbed the outside stairs, then knocked on the door. Bev let me in immediately, and we hugged.

"Heather is napping," she said. "So we'll need to be quiet. Come sit at the table. I have coffee and cookies."

I sat at the small dinette table, surveying the efficiency apartment. The area where Bev had her bed was separated by a folding divider, and Heather's bassinet was at the foot of the bed. Bev poured coffee for both of us, then set out a plate of chocolate chip cookies, which she'd baked.

"How are things going?" I asked.

"Good. Better if I get the job."

"If that falls through, I have other options," I replied. "I met a bunch of people who are part of the new mayoral administration last night, and I'm sure my friend has pull with them to get you a city job."

"I'm just amazed at how quickly you've basically become successful! I always knew you could do it, but not this fast!"

"I'm surprised, too," I replied. "But right place, right time, and right motivation made it possible. I still have a lot of work to do."

"But your investments are doing great, right?"

"March was actually a bad month because my fund only grew by about 2%."

"Which would be like 25% per year, right?" Bev asked. "How is that bad?!"

"Because for the past two years, Spurgeon's main fund has earned over 40% in total returns. Granted, that's not sustainable year-in-year-out, but it's still the benchmark. And we only make significant money if our total return exceeds 8%."

"What happens if the markets go down?"

"There are strategies to make money in down markets, but hedging for that costs some of the profit when the markets go up. The most important thing is to not lose money. It's impossible to never lose money, but the key is to limit your losses. In March, some of my investments went down, but not enough to trigger my 'stop loss' orders, nor to require me to execute some of my options contacts."

"It's almost like you're speaking a foreign language!" Bev declared.

"I felt that way when I started, but after I began studying, it all became a natural part of language, and then I use it all day, every day at work. I write analyst reports and notes, and they're in stylized language and can be almost impenetrable to someone not familiar with the industry. I'm sure law and medicine are the same, and probably other fields, too."

"I suppose, in a sense, it's no different than English teachers knowing what nominative, accusative, reflexive, independent genitive, and dependent genitive cases are."

"I vaguely recall nominative and objective cases from seventh-grade English, but that's about it."

"Think 'I, me, myself, mine, my' -- it's how and when you use them."

"So 'Billy and me went to the store'?" I teased.

"Oh, stop! Just because you grew up in Appalachia, you don't have to talk like a hick!"

I chuckled, "As you said before, 'technically' because Clermont County happens to be in the technical definition. And maybe it explains a lot, but it's not like West Virginia or Eastern Kentucky!"

"You were all 'citified', Jonny!"

"Not until I came here," I replied. "And come to think of it, I did own a rifle, I did hunt, I did have a single mom, and I did have sex with a girl who was like a sister to me growing up!"

"See!" Bev exclaimed triumphantly. "Appalachian!"

"You seem to be in a better mood."

"I am. I had breakfast with Lily and Violet at Lou Mitchell's this morning, and I think they'll be good friends. And my single mom's group is helping, as is the counselor, as I said when I saw you earlier in the week."

"Have you given any more thought to speaking to Glen or allowing him to see Heather?"

"No, and please stop bringing that up."

I nodded, "I will, for now, after I say my piece. I think Heather needs to know who her dad is. It's not the same as my situation where my dad was dead. Even if she only sees him occasionally, I feel she deserves to know. I also think you should at least get in touch with your parents and let them know you're OK. I believe you should reconcile, too."

"As soon as you do with your grandparents!" Bev countered.

"I'll hold you to that," I replied. "Keiko encouraged me to do that because Japanese culture demands children respect their parents and grandparents, and if things progress with Keiko beyond where they are, her grandfather will insist on meeting my relatives. When she and I have dinner with Uncle Alec and Aunt Wendy on the 8th, I'm going to broach the subject of contacting my grandparents."

"Wow! What would your mom say?"

"I already spoke to her about it, and she left it up to me. And if I do, I'll encourage them to reconcile with Mom."

"No way!" Bev gasped, though she kept her voice low to avoid waking Heather.

"If they hold out the olive branch, Mom won't swat it away. That said, I'm not counting on it happening or them being receptive to seeing me, given they've known about me being in Chicago ever since I received the job offer and haven't reached out. And if they reject my overtures, then Keiko's grandfather will place the responsibility where it belongs."

"It sounds as if she's the girl you plan to marry," Bev observed.

I shrugged, "As I said to Bianca earlier today, Keiko checks all the boxes. I'm not ready to make that decision yet, and her timeframe is after graduation, so we have plenty of time to decide if we belong together or not. And there are other considerations."

"Me?" Bev asked. "You know...sorry, I should let you answer first."

"Do you want a blunt, direct, honest answer?"

"That is your style, isn't it?"

"It is."

"Yes."

"In all honesty, I don't see it because twice now you've run away, and neither time did you come to me, despite me both offering AND being in a position to help. Your solution to your problems is to run, and that gives me serious pause. You also behaved irrationally with regard to Glen, beyond what simple embarrassment might cause you to do. Mr. Chojnicki suggested something called 'postpartum depression' might be the cause, and if that's true, then I could make allowances. But it's also the case that you refused at least three offers to live with me or marry me, both before and after Heather was born."

"I, uhm, don't know what to say," Bev said, a tear running down her cheek.

"I'm sorry," I replied. "I shouldn't have been that blunt."

"Yes, you should have because it's you, and it's one of the things I love about you. I have behaved irrationally since you left Goshen..."

"Which is partly my fault," I interrupted.

"Maybe," Bev said. "If I had asked to come with you, you'd have said 'yes', even if it meant waiting a year until I graduated from High School. Instead, I ran to Bob Leahy and spread my legs for him before you'd even left."

"I hate that phrase!" I said vehemently. "I wouldn't accept your dad using it, and I sure as heck won't accept you using it! You aren't a slut or a whore or anything other than a young woman who chose to have sex, and that is nobody's business except yours; not mine, not your dad's, not society's."

"Even if it was basically a revenge fuck?"

"Given I can't explain my own motivations fully, I suspect it was more complicated than that. I can't imagine you having sex with someone you didn't like or weren't attracted to."

"You're probably right."

"You can obviously refuse to answer, but what about Glen? Honesty, please, and not post his becoming involved with my mom; before."

Bev was quiet for a moment, sipping her coffee, then answered.

"He was smart, kind, witty, and sexy, and I asked him to make love to me. Bob and I fucked. You and I only fucked until after Heather was born. Glen and I made love, and it was exactly what I thought sex in marriage should be like. But he was a teacher, and afterwards, he was so nervous around me that after we were together the second time, I realized it couldn't continue."

"That's a very different take from what you've said and implied before. And in my mind, all the more reason for you to allow him to see Heather. But it also explains why you're afraid to see him."

Bev sighed deeply, then said, "Yes."

"I'm going to ask another question you can refuse to answer -- if Glen had asked you to marry him, would you have said 'yes'?"

Bev looked down and stared at her coffee cup for a moment, telegraphing the answer before she vocalized it.

"Yes," she admitted.

"And if he asked now?"

She took a deep breath and let it out, "Yes."

"Then you know what you need to do, Bev," I said gently.

"But your mom..."

"Will be fine," I replied. "Yes, they're having coffee and went to dinner, but I can tell from how she talks about him that she won't marry him. I'd call him what Lily once called me -- a 'starter boyfriend'."

Bev laughed softly, "That's awesome."

"We messed it up, with plenty of responsibility on both sides, but we've managed to get past it."

"You two date occasionally, right?"

"Yes. I like her, and honestly, who knows what will happen in the future. That said, I showed my cards earlier."

"Keiko."

"All things considered, yes, though I still have to mature further and gain more life experience."

"You were always mature," Bev said.

"I'd say 'grown up', and that was out of necessity. Maturity means more than simply being able to care for myself and help my mom and act like an adult. What I didn't have was emotional maturity, or any real relationship experience except with you. You had other friends; I had you. And that is NOT a complaint or a regret."

"You had me alright! Six times on my sixteenth birthday!"

"Which was exactly what you wanted!"

"Well, I wanted to have sex; I didn't realize until after we'd done it the first time that I wanted to keep doing it all night until we had to go home!"

"So, now, here we are, and you have some decisions to make. And the first decision you have to make is to decide not to run away, to confront your fears, and find a way forward."

"Easier said than done," Bev sighed. "You're fearless; I'm not."

"I promise to be your friend, to care for you and Heather, and help you in any way possible. But I think you need to speak to Glen and reconcile with your parents."

"Dad will completely lose his mind! And he'll try to ruin Glen's reputation."

That was not just possible but probable. I could absolutely see Jim Newton going on a scorched-earth campaign to have Glen fired, if not in some kind of legal trouble. Given Bev had been seventeen, which was over the age of consent, I didn't see what that might be. But there were solutions.

"Think outside the box," I suggested. "I'm sure Glen could find a teaching job in Chicago."

"Wait! You're encouraging me to get together with him?!"

"You told me before you were in love with him and wanted to marry him. All along, after I left, something stood between us, and now I know what it was. It doesn't hurt me, because that already happened."

"When I ran away instead of coming to you."

"Yes, but I understand better now why that was -- you couldn't give me your heart because it belongs to Glen, and you couldn't say anything to Glen because he'd begun dating my mom. I can't even begin to imagine how that tore you up inside."

"Almost as much as that first night, you and I had together!" Bev teased. "My insides were so scrambled I felt weird for two days! 'Little Jonny' was huge."

"'Little Jonny' enjoyed being inside Bev very, very much. But now, in hindsight, I think that broke the spell because it changed who we were and how we saw each other. This isn't regret, simply acknowledging reality."

"You really think I should get in touch with Glen?"

"Now would be the time. I suspect there are teaching openings for the Fall. I don't know how licenses work, but my friend in the Mayor's office surely has contacts on the Board of Education, or knows someone who does, who could find out."

"He's so much older," Bev countered.

"Which didn't prevent you from making love with him, now did it?"

"Obviously not, given my little bundle of joy asleep at the foot of my bed."

"I suppose the only question is what he'd say," I observed.

Bev smiled wanly, "He told me he loved me. He was the first person to ever say that and mean it romantically."

"It was different between you and me," I replied. "And the whole 'sister in Appalachia' notion is more true than I think either of us would readily admit, even though we aren't blood relatives."

"Didn't you just admit it?"

"Not 'readily'."

"You are ridiculously pedantic, Jonny!"

"I think it comes from the requirement that I be extremely precise in my written and oral communication. A slight miscommunication could be disastrous."

"You've always been that way, though. You were always careful to make sure you said precisely what you meant. The only time you didn't was when you hid your plans from me. And that really wasn't about precision but about openness."

"A grave error on my part."

"And mine for not calling you out and instead running to Bob Leahy."

"Water under the bridge. What are you going to do?"

Bev was quiet for a good five minutes before she spoke.

"I think you're right about Glen and that I need to call him and at least allow him to see Heather."

"And tell him how you feel?" I asked.

"Probably, but you're right about Heather needing to know who he is. Will you do something for me?"

"What's that?"

"After we have dinner, recreate that first night? Then tomorrow, I'll call Glen."

It was my turn to sit quietly and contemplate my response. Bev was, in my mind, for all intents and purposes, ending our physical relationship the way it had begun. The thing that gave me pause was that she was in love with Glen. Was I, in effect, causing her to cheat on him, at least in a philosophical sense. Probably, but then again, that meant every time I'd been with her after Heather had been conceived would have to be considered her cheating.

That seemed like a huge stretch, given there was no agreement between them to be a couple. And given there was no agreement, and he had no idea how she felt about him at the moment, it was hard to call it 'cheating' by any reasonable meaning of that word. That left the question as to whether it was a good idea, and I wasn't sure of the answer to that question. All things considered, it did seem to be a fitting way to bring that part of our lives to a close.

"If Heather won't mind all the noise," I replied with a grin.

"I'll be quiet!" Bev declared.

"That'll be the day!"

May 1, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I woke on Sunday morning with Bev snuggled close, one leg over mine, her arm over my chest, and her head on my shoulder. I lay quietly until she stirred a few minutes later.

"Heather is still asleep," she said. "Once more?"

"If you insist!" I replied.

Bev kissed me, moved down so she could use her mouth to get me hard, then rode me enthusiastically. When we finished, she stretched out on top of me, and I wrapped my arms and legs around her.

"Thank you," she said, giving me a soft kiss. "Showers and breakfast?"

Heather babbled, getting our attention, and Bev reluctantly got out of bed.

"Let me change her diaper and nurse her. You can shower while I do that, OK?"

"OK."

I took a quick shower in the small bathroom, then went out to see Bev reclined naked on the bed with Heather nursing from her breast.

"That still amazes me," I observed as I began dressing.

"Imagine how I feel!" Bev declared. "And I see that smirk! I don't mean that way!"

"Sorry, it just seemed appropriate after six times last night and once again this morning. What do you plan to say to Glen?"

"I'm going to ask him if he wants to come see Heather, but only after he promises not to tell anyone where I am. I mean, you know, this address. Then we'll take it from there. Do you think he'll agree?"

"Yes. He made it clear to Mr. Chojnicki that he wanted to see Heather but promised not to interfere."

He'd also said something similar to my mom, but I felt it was better to not mention that. I did feel a bit sad for my mom, but I was fairly certain she wasn't ever going to be able to get past the fact that Glen had been with Bev in the past. I wondered, too, if she might have detected Bev's feelings for him or let on his feelings for her, and that was what had given my mom additional pause about resuming their relationship beyond coffee and dinner dates.

"Good," Bev said. "You could start breakfast. There are sausage patties and eggs in the fridge, along with pancake batter."

"Chef Jonathan at your service!" I declared.

I made breakfast while Bev finished feeding Heather and took her shower. I put everything on the table just as Bev finished dressing, and we sat down to eat. Once we finished our meal, I helped clean up, and then Bev walked me to the door.

"I love you, Jonny, and I appreciate everything you've done for me."

"I love you, too, Bev. Call me later and let me know how things went. And we'll have dinner soon."

We hugged and exchanged a chaste kiss, I hugged Heather, and then left the apartment so I could take the L home.

XLII. Compliance

May 1, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Interesting development," Bianca observed when I arrived home mid-morning on Sunday.

"But not the way you think," I replied. "Bev and I had a very, very good talk, got everything out in the open, and she's going to get in touch with the baby's father."

"That's good, right?"

"It's complicated. There is a key thing you don't know that I cannot share at the moment, and suffice it to say, what I learned last night, which is about that thing, is good and bad."

"You're talking in circles."

"I know, because I can't reveal the thing I know. I suppose the bottom line was that Bev and I had sex for the last time a bunch of times last night and this morning."

Bianca laughed, "Of course. Orgasms are like Lay's potato chips! No one can have just one!"

"I can't argue with that! In any event, I think Bev will call the baby's father, and there's a better than even-money chance they'll get together."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Given something Bev said, I think it's for the best."

"So it's over?"

"I can't imagine a future where Bev and I are a couple at this point. I was my usual blunt self with her about how I felt, and that's when she admitted the key thing I didn't know, which was something of a game changer. I might have to manage a bit of fallout, but I don't think it will be too bad."

"If she sees him and publicly acknowledges him as Heather's biological dad, can you explain more?"

"Potentially."

I hung out with my housemates until lunch, and after lunch, I did a bit of housework. Bev called at 2:30pm to let me know that she'd called Glen.

"And?"

"I simply asked him if he wanted to see Heather, and he said that he did. I insisted he come alone and not tell anyone my address or phone number as a condition, and he agreed. He's going to drive up to Chicago next weekend."

"I'd say that's a good thing. Are you going to say anything to him about how you feel?"

"I thought it would be better to see how he reacts to Heather and to seeing me."

"That's probably the best plan. How did he sound?"

"Happy," Bev replied. "Have you spoken to your mom?"

"No. I usually call her around 3:00pm. Do you know what Glen might say to her?"

"No. We didn't discuss anything other than Heather plus his trip to Chicago."

"OK. Unless she mentions it, I won't say anything. Let me know if you need anything at all."

"You're too good to me, Jonny."

"You know I love you, Bev. I always have."

"And I love you, too, Jonny."

"Call me after Glen goes home and let me know how things went. We'll get together after that."

"I will!"

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then called my mom, even though it was a bit earlier than my usual call.

"Jim Newton is royally pissed at you," Mom said after we greeted each other.

"Name a single thing I could possibly care less about! In a choice between Bev and her dad, how would anyone with even a hint of a clue think I'd ever do anything that went against her wishes?"

"I'm not sure he's thinking rationally," Mom said. "He said you refused to accept a letter from Julie and him for Bev with, in his words, a 'smart ass answer'."

"I quoted Tom Hagen from The Godfather to be snarky because the fact that Bev registered her car to my address and used it for her driving license and for the child support checks Glen is sending her, it's not as if I could deny being in contact with her. But I played cat and mouse with the investigator, and he hasn't figured out where Bev is."

"My son, the spy!" Mom teased.

"The point was ensuring he couldn't find her, at least right away, because Jim would do something stupid, most likely driving up to Chicago and trying to confront Bev. And that will go horribly, and she might even run away again. I don't think so, but she might, and that's a risk nobody should take. I saw her yesterday and encouraged her to get in touch with her parents. She declined."

"And Glen?" Mom asked.

"You go first on that one," I replied.

"And all of a sudden, you're cagey."

"I gave my word to Bev."

"He called me a few minutes ago and let me know you'd encouraged Bev to call him so he could see Heather. He's driving to Chicago next Saturday morning."

"All true," I replied. "I promised Bev not to say anything about it unless you broached the subject for what I suspect are obvious reasons."

"He did say she swore him to secrecy about where she was living and made him promise not to tell her parents."

"What's your take?" I asked.

"You mean about Heather? Or about Glen and me?"

"They're so intertwined that I'm not sure those answers are separate."

"I think, ultimately, the fact that Glen slept with a student and got her pregnant gives me enough pause that I don't think I'd marry him."

"Might I point out that someone else got pregnant in High School?" I asked.

"But not by a teacher!" Mom protested.

"OK, but to me, that detail isn't all that important, given Bev made it absolutely clear she seduced him."

"And he exercised poor judgment."

"Mom, did YOU exercise good judgment sneaking out to get pregnant with me?"

"That was NOT why I snuck out!" Mom protested.

"Well, you snuck out and performed the necessary ritual to invite me into your life without using birth control."

Mom laughed, "'Performed the necessary ritual'?"

"Letting the stork know you wanted me!" I declared. "I mean, that's how it works, right?"

"Yes, of course!" Mom said, and I could hear her roll her eyes.

"But my point is still that one instance of bad judgment shouldn't define us, even if we have to live with the consequences. I'm not saying you should change your mind, just that it takes two to tango. If you don't think he's a good candidate, consider it like Spring Training, and now you're ready for the Majors. It's time to meet the future Mr. Linda Kane, and I'm positive there are other eligible gentlemen who would be suitable."

"What is this? The 1950s?"

I laughed, "I could put it in 80s terms or be earthy!"

"Thank you, no," Mom said with a soft laugh.

"But seriously, Mom. Consider Glen as what my friend Lily called me -- a 'starter boyfriend' -- and find a way to meet someone who hasn't slept with your son's best friend when she was a student."

"It amazes me that it doesn't bother you at all."

"You taught me to be non-judgmental," I replied. "Looking back, I'd say your goal was to ensure I didn't turn out to be like your dad."

"You're right, of course, and you aren't anything like him. Did you get in touch?"

"No. I won't even attempt it until I speak with Aunt Wendy and Uncle Alec next Sunday. Keiko is going with me."

"So it's her, then?"

"As I said to a friend, she checks all the boxes, and that's the trajectory we're on. But neither of us is in a rush to get married or start a family."

"Sometimes you don't plan that," Mom observed.

"No kidding! Anything else going on?"

"Not really. How about by you?"

"Just work, school, helping Bev get settled, and hanging out with my friends."

"Then I'll let you go, and we'll have our call next Sunday."

"Sounds good, Mom. Talk to you then."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then went back to hang out with my housemates until around 3:00pm when I went upstairs to get ready for my date with Teri. I showered and dressed, then headed for Teri's house in Bridgeport. About twenty-five minutes later, I walked up to the front door and rang the bell.

"Hi!" Teri exclaimed. "Come in!"

She was dressed in a grey wool skirt with a green sweater, with her red hair draped over her shoulders. When I saw her, it suddenly dawned on me that she'd invited me to her house and arranged for us to be alone. Had we not had so many arguments about sex and relationships, I wouldn't have thought twice about it, but now I wonder about it. In the end, though, I wasn't about to make the commitment she'd require for what had crossed my mind to happen.

"Hi," I said, stepping into the house.

"You can hang your windbreaker on the coat rack."

I slipped off my jacket and hung it on the rack, then followed Teri into the front room where an REO Speedwagon album was playing.

"Do you want a bottle of pop?" she asked. "We have Pepsi, 7-Up, root beer, and ginger ale."

"Root beer, please."

She left and returned with two bottles of Barq's, one of which she handed to me.

"How was your week?" she asked.

"Good. I helped my friend Bev move into a new apartment."

"That's the one with the baby, right?"

"Yes."

"And the one who has dibs, if she wants them."

I shook my head, "No. I had dinner with her and her daughter yesterday, and we talked things through. She's going to try to fix the situation with the baby's father."

"I'd say that's probably a good thing."

"Yes, especially for you! Another piece removed from the chessboard."

Teri laughed softly, which was what I'd hoped would happen.

"How many more are there?"

"Well, the global population of eligible females between the ages of eighteen to twenty-four is probably around 200 million," I chuckled.

"Permission to say something you've declared off limits?" Teri requested.

"Sure."

"And your goal is to sleep with every one of them!"

"Hmm," I said, stroking my chin.

Teri rolled her eyes, "Such a guy!"

"Veering away from a topic I put off limits, the point I was making was that I had pointed out that I needed to figure out my relationship with Bev -- that's her name -- before I could even think about a committed relationship with anyone else."

"A necessary but not sufficient condition, at least for what I've said I want."

"I think the disconnect, if I can call it that, is that at eighteen, you seem absolutely sure about what you want, whereas, at twenty, I'm not."

"You mean in terms of a wife?" Teri asked. "Because you're absolutely sure about what you want from your career."

"Yes. Remember, I only had my first real date less than two years ago, and before that, I had one close friend -- Bev -- and didn't spend time with any other girls, even casually. I also only had a couple of guy friends, and they weren't close. I bet you have friends from grade school and at least hung out with guys in a group."

"I do, and I did," Teri replied. "I know I'm risking you leaving by saying this, but if you weren't able to have sex, would you still be reluctant to marry?"

"Yes," I replied. "As I think I said once before, a desire to have sex is a terrible basis for a marriage. If I had a choice, right now, between chastity and marriage, I'd choose chastity, at least in the short term. That said, I certainly wouldn't sign up to be a monk or a Catholic priest!"

"Give a girl a clue, please. What will it take for you to make a decision?"

"Time. And that has zero to do with what you've alleged in the past. The last thing I want to do is rush into a lifetime commitment only to have it turn out to not be a lifetime commitment."

"Isn't that always a risk?" Teri asked. "I mean, even Catholics get divorced despite it being against the teachings of the Church."

"Sure, but why not take time to be sure that you have worldviews that are compatible, that you have enough things in common, and that you know the person well enough to make that decision."

"I see your point, but if you think you've found the person, why wait?"

"Asked because you think you've found the person, which is why you keep asking me out despite the disagreements we've had."

"About one thing," Teri said.

"You expressed concern about my friend Violet and my commitment to her, and that is absolutely not about that 'one thing'. Maybe you don't believe me, given what I've revealed about how I conduct my life. But, if that's true, and you don't believe me, then that argues against a relationship. Trust is key, and without it, both business and personal relationships are difficult, if not impossible."

"I hadn't looked at it that way," Teri admitted. "But in my experience, guys don't get that close to girls without that 'one thing' happening."

"I actually have two extremely close female friends where that 'one thing' is not even a consideration. One is a fantastic confidante who has helped me find my way as a completely naïve kid from Goshen, Ohio, who had come to the big city and experienced the wider world for the first time. The other is my friend Violet. I haven't done more than hug either of them, though they have kissed my cheek in a platonic way."

"And you'd be OK with me having a guy friend like that?"

"It wouldn't bother me, though I think your brother fills that role for you."

"He does, and his advice was, well, I suspect you can imagine."

"Actually, given how well I'm sure he knows you and what he's said, I'm not sure what he might have said."

"He basically said I should get over my hangups."

"I actually don't consider it a hangup. It's a legitimate response to events in your life. He and I might choose different responses, but I don't think either of us could legitimately reject your response as wrong or invalid. And even if he did say what you're implying, we still would have to come to some kind of agreement on church, which is actually the bigger challenge."

"At the risk of having you redirect the conversation, you're going to have to explain that."

"Simple -- our diverging views on sex are simply about timing. A short conversation would ensure we were on the same wavelength in that regard. We both know the theory, and I have experience with putting the theory into practice, and I don't believe your lack of experience would be any kind of limiting factor once we had that brief conversation to ensure there were no incompatible inhibitions."

"A circumlocution to ask if I'd swallow?" Teri asked with a smirk.

I chuckled, "Not intentionally, but I see how you might have understood it that way given...sorry, I can't say that by my own rule."

"Go on, I won't be upset."

"Given that you appear to have a one-track mind on the topic. But set that aside, please. There's the church and religion concern, and then, of course, your intent to attend UofI in Champaign. I know we touched on that latter one, but you've had more time to think about it."

"There are at least six good music programs here in Chicago, including Saint Xavier University, which is Roman Catholic, the University of Chicago, Columbia College Chicago, Northwestern, and UICC. And while it's probably too late to get in for the Fall, a gap year would work, or a year at Champaign and then a transfer. The one thing that would cause me to change my 'do everything with my brother' policy would be a marriage proposal.

"Church is, as you've said, the trickier problem. I can't stop believing any more than you can start believing, and I'd want to have my kids baptized. If I understood what you said, you'd be OK with that, so long as you didn't have to make promises, which would mean no church wedding. And you'd want the freedom to express your views to the kids, even if they contradict the teachings of the Church."

"There is no 'if' with regard to contradictions!" I declared with a smile.

Teri rolled her eyes, "OK, Mr. Pedantic, even when they contradict the teachings of the Church."

A timer went off in the kitchen, and Teri went to check on dinner and came back.

"We can eat now," she said. "I made «Stobhach Gaelach», or Irish Stew, though it's somewhat Americanized in that I used beef rather than mutton. I also made soda bread, which is traditionally Irish, and I have two bottles of Guinness stout, imported from Ireland."

"Are you trying to make a point?" I asked with a smile.

"We've been to Greek, German, and Italian restaurants, so why not Irish food?"

"It wasn't an objection; it was just a question."

"I am Irish, with all the things that go with that -- red hair, green eyes, Catholic faith, and a fiery temperament. I also happen to be a good cook. Shall we eat?"

"Yes."

She directed me to the dining room, and I sat down while she brought in the food, politely refusing my offer to help. Once she had the food on the table, she sat down, said grace, then served both of us stew and bread.

"This is excellent," I said.

"They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach!"

"So they say! And something we haven't really discussed is that I have a very modern view of the division of labor at home. I'm not looking for the 1950s wife who brings me a pipe, slippers, and a martini!"

"Don't worry, that's not me! What about childcare?"

"I've changed exactly one diaper in my life, but I don't feel that's something only women can do."

"I'd say most twenty-year-old guys haven't ever changed a diaper, so you're ahead of the game by having changed one! I'm going to guess you'll have enough money to hire a maid and a nanny if you want to."

"If things go according to plan, yes, though whether I do that or not would depend on more than just the money. Obviously, that would be something I'd discuss with my wife."

"As if I'd object to someone else cleaning the house! I'm not my grandmother in Ireland who thinks NOBODY but her knows how to properly clean a house."

When we finished eating, Teri served homemade butterscotch apple cake with vanilla ice cream, which was excellent. After dessert, she accepted my help to clean up, with me drying dishes and putting them in cabinets as she directed.

"Thank you for a wonderful meal and dessert," I said as she took the drying towel from me.

"You're welcome. Do you have a specific time you need to be home?"

"Only early enough that I can get at least six hours of sleep, which means no later than around 11:00pm. What did you want to do?"

"I'll give you two options, and you choose, OK?"

"Sure."

"We could see Valley Girl, which sounds cheesy, but the reviews say the music is awesome, or we could go to bed together."

"And you think it's safe to say that because you're positive which one I'll choose," I said with a smile. "But I don't believe you've considered what your offer means."

"How so?"

"If I acted the way you believe I act, I'd choose to go to bed with you, and we'd both be acting inconsistent with our character. If I act the way I actually act, I'd choose the movie, and we'd both be acting consistent with our character. You are, in effect, counting on my acting differently from how you believe I act, or the offer isn't real. But if the offer isn't sincere, you risk me being upset and walking out and deciding not to see you again because you violated the rule."

"You came up with all of that in a split second? I mean, you didn't even pause in your response, except for when I asked a two-word question."

"It's my analytical nature. And I do believe the offer is real, but you're relying on me responding exactly the way I have, despite the accusations you've made in the past."

"You've made your point," Teri replied flatly.

"It wasn't about upsetting you or trying to break things off. If I wanted to break things off, I'd have declined your invitation for dinner. Let's go see the movie, OK?"

"Yes."

"What theatre?"

"Harper in Hyde Park is closest and easiest, I think, and cheaper than Water Tower."

"Where is that?"

"52nd and Harper," she said. "I'll give you directions."

We put on our light jackets and left the house. We got into my car, and as promised, Teri directed me to the theatre. We bought our tickets, decided against popcorn and pop, and went into the theatre to watch the movie. Just under two hours later, we left the theatre.

"What did you think?" Teri asked as we walked towards my car.

"It was silly, but the music was awesome, as you said. I really liked two songs -- I Melt With You and Who Can It Be Now. I suppose I'd say it's a modern take on Romeo & Juliet, though, without all the deaths."

"And the obvious social commentary?"

"You mean basically kids from the 'wrong side of the tracks' versus the rich kids?"

"I was thinking more about what happened with Loryn."

"About the futility of using sex to lure a guy into a relationship?" I asked with a grin.

"You would see it that way!"

"I was teasing, actually," I replied. "It showed exactly why a girl who wants a relationship shouldn't have sex with a two-faced, self-absorbed weasel like Tommy!"

"Better!" Teri declared. "And the ending?"

"True love, of course! I can see Randy and Julie marrying and having kids, though the implication was they had consummated before they married."

"Implication?" Teri asked. "The driver asked if they were going to the hotel, they confirmed, and it was obvious what they were going to do!"

"I'm curious if you see parallels?"

Teri rolled her eyes, "You mean that Tommy was experienced and Julie was a virgin?"

"I was thinking more about two people from different backgrounds."

"You think there is that much difference? I don't see it, I guess."

"Rural southern Ohio versus Bridgeport? Irreligious versus regular churchgoer? Having a single mom versus being part of a traditional family? Only child versus having a sibling? Good relations with your relatives versus basically never seeing them? Having one close friend versus having numerous friends? Do I need to go on?"

"We both grew up in the US, went to High School, are about three years apart in age, and are both pretty typical working-class kids, even if your family had less than mine. I think our politics line up close enough, though I'd guess you voted for Washington in the primary."

"Byrne, actually," I replied. "I take it you've heard the joke, right?"

"Which one?"

"What do you get when a white, Irish Catholic boy screws a white, Irish Catholic girl?"

"I don't know."

"A black mayor."

Teri laughed, "Cute. My parents and I all voted for Daley in the primary because we're from Bridgeport. We voted for Washington in the general election because we're Democrats, though I know that most people in Bridgeport voted for Epton. We discussed it, but in the end, I'm OK with a black mayor."

"There's a difference -- despite repeating the joke I heard at work, I don't care about skin color."

"I'm going to guess there weren't too many black people where you lived."

"Some, but not many."

"Race relations in Chicago have been bad since the 60s, and it's a consideration for a lot of people."

"You?"

"We did vote for Washington."

"I guess I don't understand the concern, which I'm sure is because we never had the kinds of problems in Goshen that occurred in Chicago and other big cities. In the end, you did the right thing."

"If we'd voted for Epton, would that be a problem?"

"I don't have any time for racists or bigots."

"Do you think I'm racist?"

"I don't believe so, no. But a lot of people in Chicago voted against Washington merely because he was black. And the Epton campaign slogan was blatantly racist, and it disgusted me."

"I don't disagree with you," Teri said as I unlocked the door to my car.

I helped Teri in, closed the door, then went around to the driver's side and got in.

"I honestly don't think we're that different, with the exception of belief in God," Teri said. "And so long as me going to church on Sunday mornings or Saturday nights isn't a big deal, and you agreed to go to church as a family on Easter and Christmas, I don't see a problem because I don't object to birth control."

"It's a bit more than that, but that is an important teaching with which I disagree."

"Let me be completely clear -- I don't agree with the teachings of the Church about sex, with regard to what, when, where, or why."

"Message received," I chuckled.

"Is that the conversation?"

"Close enough," I replied. "I did say it would be brief."

"Not what a girl wants to hear when the conversation is about sex!"

I laughed, "Now, see, THERE is an attitude I can get behind!"

"I told you I'm not a prude."

We chatted on the way back to Bridgeport, and when we arrived, I parked, then walked Teri to the door.

"Would you like a 'good night' kiss?" Teri asked.

"I would," I replied.

I stepped close to Teri and carefully touched my lips to hers. She stepped closer, pressed her body lightly against mine, put her arms around me, and parted her lips. I accepted the invitation and gently slid my tongue into Teri's mouth for a soft, sexy French kiss. Teri tightened her arms briefly, then broke the kiss and stepped back.

"This preview of coming attractions was rated PG," Teri said with a smile. "See you tomorrow in class?"

"See you then!"

I walked back to my car, got in, and headed home.

"Two out of three?" Bianca asked when I walked into the house.

"Oh, stop! You knew before I left I'd be home tonight!"

"OK to come upstairs with you while you change?"

"Of course," I agreed.

We went up to my room so I could change into sweats.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Just filling out my scorecard!"

I laughed, "I'll see her again. Nothing else really to report."

"Tell me it's none of my business, but what's the attraction?"

"Irish, red hair, green eyes, good cook, good sense of humor. And, to answer your next question, church is an area of concern. Bottom line, I like her, and given I'm not making any commitments to anyone, and nobody is demanding I make a commitment, why not see her?"

"Wasn't she demanding a commitment?"

"Yes, but after my ultimatum, she decided on different tactics. She made a traditional Irish dinner, including stout beer."

"She's persistent, and I suspect that's part of what attracts you besides her Irish charms."

"How so?"

"You're intrigued that she's interested and has altered her tactics, if you will, to try to overcome your objections. And she's dangling the bait just out of reach."

"I don't see it that way, and it doesn't feel that way. I mean, sure, she knows I'm interested, but I've turned down three offers."

"Playing hard to get?" Bianca asked with a silly smile.

"No. The first two weren't serious and were meant to gauge my reaction. Tonight's was serious, but with the expectation I'd say 'no'."

"A test?"

"It didn't feel that way. I'm reasonably certain that if I said 'bed' rather than 'movie', she'd have followed through. The problem is, I can't do that to her, given her expectations."

"Not to get on your case, but wasn't that Clara's intention?"

"Yes, but she didn't tie the two things together."

"Didn't she? And wasn't that the reason she narc'd on you to her dad?"

"Her problem, in the end, was immaturity, and she accused me of wanting to break up with her, which was not the case, so she broke up with me. It was kind of a self-fulfilling prophecy, and all because I didn't do anything for her on Valentine's Day. You and I talked about that difference, but in hindsight, I've concluded it was immaturity. And that's part of what led me to not wanting to see girls who hadn't graduated from High School, even if they were eighteen."

"Except for Teri and my cousin."

"Your cousin because she's your cousin and because she was mature enough to handle an adult relationship. Teri because I met her before I set the graduation requirement and because she's taking a college course and is way more mature than I was at eighteen. Are you concerned about Teri?"

"Believe it or not, I only want what's best for you and for you to be happy."

"Go on," I said with a smile.

"Baby with me, marry Keiko, and keep Deanna as your mistress."

"And Keiko will go for that, of course!" I chuckled, rolling my eyes.

"You'll never know until you ask!"

"And you'll have privileges, too?"

"That might be pushing it," Bianca replied with a smile.

"Will you do me a favor, please?"

"Sure. What?"

"Just allow things to play out. I know what you want, and I'll absolutely take it into account when I decide."

"Sorry."

"There's no need to apologize."

"Juliette is spending the night; mind if we share your bed with you tonight?"

"Not at all!"

May 2, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

My phone rang mid-morning on Monday.

"FX Desk, Kane."

"Jonathan, this is Kendall Roy in Compliance. Do you have some time to see me today?"

"I can make time. What's this about?"

"A routine SEC inquiry. What time?"

"How does 2:00pm sound?"

"That's fine."

"Bring your files for this year, please."

"OK."

"See you at 2:00pm."

I hung up, then walked over to Anna's desk to ask if Mr. Matheson was free.

"You sure didn't waste any time! Five girls?"

"That's not an answer to my question," I said, not wanting to get into it with her.

"He's free," she replied. "Go in."

I went into Mr. Matheson's office and shut the door behind me.

"What's up, Kane?"

"Mr. Roy from Compliance called and said he wanted to see me about an SEC inquiry."

"The Bolivar trades and the precious metals trades," Mr. Matheson replied. "You're completely clean. The currency trades were supported by your morning reports, and I had your written analyst note on the precious metals trade. Those trades are ironclad. The SEC has been sniffing around since they busted Jack Gilham right after you started. In their view, one dirty guy means a firm full of dirty guys, even though Spurgeon turned Gilham into the Feds. Don't sweat it. Just answer Ken's questions, and he'll make it go away. That's his job."

"OK," I agreed.

"Just remember, if you aren't being questioned by them, you're playing things too safe and leaving money on the table. Take it literally to the edge, but not a cunt hair over. Go find a way to make some money. Last month sucked, even with the cap raise."

"About two weeks on the precious metals trades, though payoff could be months depending on the market."

"Keep looking!"

"Absolutely!"

"Oh, before I forget, how is your contact in the Mayor's office?"

"She had me escort her to the Inaugural Ball last week, so I'd say they're good. I met a number of her colleagues as well as the Mayor himself, though it was just a brief introduction."

"Good job! Keep that up, and keep your finger on the political pulse. There's a lot of shit coming down in the City Council."

"It's going to be ugly, but I'll keep my ear to the ground."

"Good."

I left his office and went back to my desk. About ninety minutes later, I ate my lunch, then went down to the gym to work out. After the gym, I returned to my desk and gathered together all the folders in my desk drawer, which contained my daily analyst reports and my analyst notes. I continued working until 1:50pm, gathered my notes, and went up to 31, where Compliance and Legal had their offices. The group secretary, Margie, sent me into Mr. Roy's office.

"Hi, Jonathan, thanks for coming up. Have a seat, please."

I sat down.

"We received an SEC letter inquiry about trades made in the Venezuelan Bolivar and a series of gold and silver trades. I've seen your analyst reports and analyst notes on file that Mr. Matheson submitted with his daily trading reports. Is there anything at all in your records that might raise suspicion?"

"No. I listed my sources on the reports, and I was thorough."

"Are your working notes handwritten?"

"No. They're on my computer, but I print copies to keep in my files."

"Do you time-and-date stamp them, per our policy on trading notes?"

"Yes. I also have the originals of the formal reports and notes I give to Mr. Matheson."

"Good. I need any working notes you have on the trades I mentioned."

I flipped through my working notes and handed him a dozen pages.

"I'll review these, make copies for my files, then return them. How long do you keep the computer copies?"

"I have all of them from when I started; I know the paper copies have to be turned over to the archivist after six months."

"Doing it on a personal computer is new, and I'm not sure what the SEC would say about it. I'd like you to make copies of the computer files on floppy disk and turn them over as well."

"I'll make sure that happens. Is once a month OK?"

"Yes, it should be. The paper records are primary, but I don't want the SEC to have anything they can hang their hat on."

"As Mr. Matheson said, it's OK to go up to the line, but not a thirty-second of an inch over it."

Mr. Roy laughed, "I know Murray, and he said 'cunt hair'."

"He did."

"OK. You can go back to your desk. We have the backup necessary for those trades, so this will go away."

"Just so you're aware, I'm preparing another series of precious metals trades using the same short and call option strategy."

"That's going to get their attention. Make sure your research is ironclad."

"It's based on spreads and volume, and I have a spreadsheet with all the information I've collected. I've also noted in my daily reports that another set of trades is in the offing."

"Put those spreadsheets on the monthly floppy disk you give to the archivist. Do you have any contact with anyone in London?"

"No."

"And your phone records will back that up?"

"Absolutely."

"OK. Just keep your backup for the trades, and the SEC will come up empty. Again."

"Will do."

I left his office and headed back to my desk, where I found a message slip that surprised me. I put my files away, then dialed the number.

"Haley Davis!" she said when she answered.

"It's Jonathan," I replied.

"Hi! I was calling to see if you wanted to have coffee."

"I would, though my circumstances haven't materially changed."

"You sound like a quarterly 10-Q!" Haley declared.

"Sorry, I'm at work, so the lingo just kind of flows naturally. What's up?"

"I figured it can't hurt to stay in touch, and coffee is, well, just coffee."

"When?" I asked.

"I start as early as you do, so how about the diner on Chestnut by the parking garage. Say, tomorrow at 6:15am?"

"I'll need to confirm with Jack because I'm his ride. If he's not willing to come in early, I'm sure he'll be OK with taking the UP/North or the L."

"Great!" Haley exclaimed. "See you in the morning."

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, and went back to work. Just before the end of my work day, Bev called to let me know that she'd been offered the position at Hart-Lincoln and would start on May 16th.

"Are you financially OK until you get your first paycheck?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Good. Let me know if that's not the case, and we'll work something out. I'm happy for you, Bev."

"I'm happy for me, too! Heather will go to the daycare where Violet used to work. I can get there on the L, then get to Hart-Lincoln from there on the L as well."

"That sounds perfect," I observed.

"Did you speak to your mom?"

"Yes. She knows Glen is coming to see you, but that's all. And I'm reasonably certain she's decided he's not the guy for her, so the field is clear, so to speak."

"Jonny, the Jewish grandmother?" Bev teased.

I laughed, "I would have had no idea what that even meant before I met Beth!"

"I'll call after Glen leaves and let you know how things went."

"Great!"

We said goodbye, I hung up, and given it was only a few minutes before 5:00pm, I put all my files into my desk, locked it, shut down my computer, then headed to Violet's house for dinner.

"Did you see Bev over the weekend the way you planned?" Violet asked after she greeted me with the usual hug and kiss on the cheek.

"I had dinner with Bev and Heather on Saturday," I said. "Have you spoken to her since then?"

"No. Why?"

"She agreed to call Glen and allow him to see Heather. He's coming to Chicago next weekend."

"That's great! What about her parents?"

"That's a bridge too far for her at this point. But this is good progress. Anyway, what's for dinner?"

"Simple today -- spaghetti and meatballs with salad and garlic bread."

"Sounds tasty!"

We had a nice meal, cleaned up, then headed to Circle for class. As I expected, Teri asked me to have dinner again, and we agreed on the 15th because of my busy schedule. After class, Violet and I met at the diner as usual for coffee and pie, then I walked her home.

"Come inside for a minute?" she asked when we reached the door.

I wondered about the request, but I didn't see how I could say 'no' without possibly hurting her.

"OK," I agreed.

We stepped into the foyer, and Violet turned to me.

"Would you give me a real hug, please?"

I nodded, held out my arms and Violet stepped into them. She put her arms around me, and we hugged tightly. She kissed my cheek, put her head on my chest, and sighed deeply.

"Thank you for everything," she said when she lifted her head about fifteen seconds later.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"Oh, no! No! Not at all! Everything is perfect!"

"OK. See you Wednesday?"

"Yes!" she said happily.

She lowered her arms, stepped back, and smiled. I smiled back, left her house, walked to my car, got in, and headed home.

XLIII. I'm Scared

May 2, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Can we just sleep tonight?" Keiko asked when she climbed into bed with me on Monday night.

I knew it wasn't her 'time of the month', so it wasn't that.

"Not feeling well?"

"I'm just tired."

"Were you up late last night?"

"No, and I think I slept OK."

"I'm sorry I have to be up about thirty minutes early tomorrow, but you can just stay in bed."

"Maybe I'll just sleep in my bed," she said.

"You're welcome to sleep with me and stay in bed when I shower."

"OK," she said.

I reached over, turned off the light, Keiko snuggled close, and we fell asleep.

May 3, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Tuesday morning, Keiko stirred when my alarm went off but went back to sleep. I showered, dressed in the bathroom, then quietly left the room. I'd decided I'd have breakfast at the diner, and Jack had decided to go in early and take a longer lunch.

"I didn't want to ask in front of the girls," Jack said after we got into the car. "But what's up with Haley?"

"She called to have coffee, not a date, though I plan to eat breakfast, even if it's just coffee and a Danish. It actually fits with how our last conversation went, in that, most likely, she's checking in to see if anything has changed. She was ready to settle down, and I wasn't and I'm still not. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't keep in touch with her."

"Contacts?"

"They're always good, and she's Assistant Director of Personnel at Allen & Baker, a prestigious law firm. I can't say what or when, but it's likely that in the future, there will be something she can do for me or I can do for her."

"Besides the obvious?" he asked with a grin.

"For business contacts, that would be a generally bad idea because if that part of the relationship soured, it could mess up the rest. Remember our shared goal."

"Hot chicks and big bucks!" Jack declared.

"Something like that," I chuckled.

When we arrived at the Hancock Center, I parked, Jack headed to the office, and I headed to the diner to meet Haley. When I arrived, she greeted me with a quick hug and a 'society kiss' where our cheeks touched for the briefest instant. After we greeted each other, we were seated, and I ordered coffee and a cheese Danish while Haley ordered coffee.

"How have you been?" she asked.

"Good. I moved into the new house, and things at work are going OK. How are things at Allen & Baker?"

"Great! First off, there are no shenanigans, or at least if there are, they are isolated incidents. Second, there are options for advancement, and I'm going to take paralegal courses so I understand more about what the attorneys do. And I really like the attorneys."

"That's good to hear. How are things otherwise?"

Haley smiled, "Is that a question about dating?"

I shrugged, "Life in general. I'll go first. Other than moving, I've had some very successful trades; I'm dealing with an SEC letter inquiry; and my friend Bev is in Chicago and is attempting to reconcile with her baby's father."

"So she's out of the picture?"

"She'll always be a friend, and I'll always do my utmost to help her, but the chances that we'll ever be a couple are effectively zero."

"Does that change anything?"

"You mean, does that imply I'm ready to begin a long-term, committed relationship? My timeframe is still a few years from now. Could that change? Sure, but right now, today, I'm not ready."

The waitress brought my Danish and refilled our coffee.

"To answer your question," Haley said, "not much has changed. I hang out with my friends, and I've gone on a few dates. I take it from your comment you're still playing the field."

"That would be accurate."

"Hypothetically speaking, what would change your mind?" Haley asked.

"Hypothetically speaking, I don't know. I think the usual answer would be 'falling in love', but we had that discussion, which is what led to you asking me to take you home."

"And not the way you had hoped."

"Nor the way you had expected," I countered. "We both were interested, but we're at different points in our lives. As strange as it might seem to others, the slight three-year gap in our ages matters. Not in the sense that I'm too young or that you're too old, but as you pointed out, I'm the same age as someone finishing their Sophomore year of college while you're almost two years past when someone would have graduated with a four-year degree. You've been working for nearly four years, while I haven't even completed my second year. In other words, you're at a stage of life where you're ready to settle down, while I'm not there yet."

"That is a reasonable summary of what I said," Haley agreed.

"But that's not your biggest concern, is it? Your biggest concern is that you don't feel I have the capacity to fall in love, and you don't think what amounts to a commitment to love my spouse is sufficient."

"It feels as if you're treating it as a contract."

"Because that's how I see it. You each make promises to the other, including a promise to 'love and cherish', and offer consideration in exchange for those promises. The one thing you cannot promise is to stay 'in love' with someone because that's about how you feel."

"You are coldly logical and analytical."

"And you take that to mean I can't love, but I can. In fact, you'd be hard-pressed to show the difference between the way I would act in a marriage and the way someone who said they were 'in love' would act in a marriage. Fundamentally, at least as I see it, what matters is keeping your commitments and caring for your family. If I had simply followed social norms or customs, how would you know the difference if I didn't tell you? In other words, I'd act the same way as someone who says they are 'in love'."

"You really don't get it, do you?" Haley asked.

I shrugged, "Maybe not, but then again, you put more weight on emotions than you do on actions, which doesn't make any sense to me. How someone feels is FAR less important than what they actually do. Let me propose a thought experiment. In the first case, you marry someone who is in love with you and with whom you're in love, and in ten years, one of you decides you're no longer in love, and you have an acrimonious divorce and fight over money, kids, and so on. In the second case, you decide someone is a good fit as a partner, marry, and stay married for life, caring for each other, raising a family, and so on. Which of those two is better?"

"You want me to say the second one, of course."

"I want you to tell me which has the better outcome, and then explain why the other choice is actually better."

"You know I can't because you set it up in a way that makes it impossible for you to lose the argument."

"OK, fine. What's the practical difference between two marriages, one that began with being 'in love' and one that didn't, which resulted in a happy, prosperous lifelong relationship?"

"How I feel."

"Which is not practical, but emotional," I countered. "And here's the truly challenging part -- how would you know if I really was 'in love' with you versus simply saying so and going through the romantic motions? The only reason you know is because I told you. If I hadn't, and did the whole Valentine's Day and anniversary things, and occasionally brought you flowers, and so on, and told you that I loved you, how would you know what I was actually feeling?"

"I think it would be obvious."

"Would it, really? All you have to go on is what you observe, and I absolutely guarantee I could decide, logically, to do all those things if I wanted to and if I felt it would achieve my goal. And I don't see how you could tell the difference."

"Making love versus having sex," Haley countered.

"You don't believe I could 'make love'? That I could only 'screw'?"

"Yes."

"Well, I could say that requires you to allow me to prove otherwise, but you'd say I was faking it. But here's the problem -- if I tailored my actions to what you needed and did so for life, how the heck could you tell the difference?"

"You can't fake it!"

"Again, how would you know unless you're a mind reader? All you have to go on is what I do or say. One responsibility a spouse has is to meet the needs of their partner, and not just in bed. If I was doing the right things and saying the right things because I deduced that's what you needed, how would you ever know the difference unless I told you?"

"A woman would know."

"Seriously? That's your answer? Woman's intuition?"

"Yes."

"Unfortunately, there's no way for me to prove my point, given I've revealed my thinking about 'love' and 'in love'. I believe, based on that, that your mind is made up. But I maintain that had I not explained my thinking, you would never have known because you didn't know until we had the conversation. You were ready to go to bed with me and start a committed relationship before that conversation because you didn't, and more importantly couldn't, know."

"I disagree," Haley replied.

I shrugged, "There is no way I can prove my point, nor any way you can prove yours, so all we can do is agree to disagree."

"I think you're going to have serious problems with relationships," Haley observed.

"That same argument would apply to you. I say we compare notes in five, ten, twenty-five, and fifty years and see if you're correct. I think my approach will hold up better in the long run."

"As a confirmed bachelor."

"As a family man with one wife, one or more kids, and in fifty years, one or more grandkids and hopefully great-grandkids."

I finished my Danish, we both finished our coffee, and I paid the bill. We left the diner, and I was reasonably certain that Haley wouldn't contact me, and I saw no reason to call her, as she was convinced that her intuition trumped everything. I couldn't abide by that because it ignored facts in evidence, something I could never, ever do.

I headed to the office, went through my usual morning routine, and once my morning report was completed, I updated my spreadsheets with the latest gold and silver prices, along with the contract spreads. We were very close to what I considered the peak, and I had to be very careful not to miss it, as the drop would be fairly significant.

I decided to move my target date from May 19th to May 10th, but I was prepared to pull the trigger sooner if I saw signs of selling. The goal was to be first, even if I was a bit early and left some money on the table, as being second or third would leave even more money on the table, and being two or three days late could give up most of the potential profit as the spread between the probable highs and lows would narrow quickly.

"Mr. Matheson would like to see you," Mia, the second secretary, said over the intercom feature of the phone.

I acknowledged her and went to Mr. Matheson's office.

"Kane, I want you to look over some materials from a capital management firm in New York that's offering payment for order flow."

"Legal kickbacks," I said with a smile.

"The key word there is legal!" Mr. Matheson declared.

"Yes, though 'commissions for routing orders through the firm' would be a better term than 'payment for order flow'. Which one?"

"Madoff Investment Securities," he replied. "I don't see a downside to routing orders through his firm, given Bernie Madoff basically is NASDAQ and has about 15% of all trading volume on the NYSE."

"I remember reading about him. He was instrumental in the National Association of Securities Dealers and computerized the 'Pink Sheets' and OTC trading into the National Association of Securities Dealers Automated Quotation system, which we call NASDAQ. I recall a quote from him in our training manuals -- 'Never break your word', a policy I follow scrupulously. I can't imagine what I could possibly find that would be wrong."

"With that? Nothing. We'll very likely sign with him because it gives us a slightly better margin on every trade. What I want you to look at is a private advisory and management company he runs that isn't part of Madoff Investment Securities. He's promising to beat the S&P every month and without 'two and twenty'."

"How the heck does he make money?" I asked.

"That's what raised Spurgeon's eyebrows," Mr. Matheson said. "Madoff offered to run some of our money and ostensibly make money from the order flow."

I shook my head, "I don't see it. For that to work, he'd need to churn."

"That's my take as well. He's using 'split-strike' conversion and claims to be able to beat the S&P month-in, month-out forever."

"So a hedge, similar to what I've done with precious metals."

"Yes, but he's claiming to do that for Blue Chip stocks, and the market in general, on a regular basis, not for a situation where John Q. Public is idiotically propping up a market in gold or silver. Can you execute your strategy at all times across all asset classes?"

"Hell no! Last month proved that. My currency and precious metals strategies are good for quick strikes at opportune moments, but the bills are paid by your currency management services, at least with regard to the FX Desk."

"So, is he that much smarter than everyone?"

"Well, his firm is highly regarded, but I have to ask why Noel Spurgeon would even consider allowing an outsider, even someone like Bernie Madoff, to run any of his money."

"He's not. He's more concerned about the competition. He'll play the blushing debutante being asked to the dance long enough to find out what's really going on but keep his knees pressed firmly together to avoid getting fucked."

"That makes sense. I'd need to see a sample trading ledger for his hedge funds."

"Yeah, I'll get right on that!" Mr. Matheson said with a laugh. "Do you think Noel Spurgeon would open the kimono that way?"

"Of course not, but you basically have a hedge fund manager saying he can do better, and we're one of the leading firms. What do we have to analyze?"

"Last year, he began using that strategy against the S&P 500 index. Could you build a spreadsheet model that, with perfect timing, replicated his claims, taking into account fees, commissions, and taxes?"

"It would be rough because I could only estimate the fees, commissions, and taxes."

"Is it possible to build a model that allows us to run it with variations of those numbers?"

"I'm sure there is. Is it OK to get help from a friend who's a computer science student?"

"If you can trust that person to not reveal anything to anyone."

"Absolutely. I'll get started on that. I can pull the historical S&P data from Bloomberg."

"Keep this on the QT, please. Report only to me or Noel."

"Will do. Give me a week or so to create and test the model."

"That's fine. We'll sign the order flow agreement and say we're discussing the investment advisory offer internally. By the way, he made a pitch to Margaret Lundgren."

"I'd ask how you know, but nobody is going to admit who the informant is!"

"You have that right!"

"I'll get to work. Oh, tomorrow you'll see I moved the target date for the precious metals play up a week."

"Decided not to play chicken?"

"I'm absolutely positive gold will hit $440 per ounce and silver $12.80. They could both go higher, of course, but at those prices, I'm confident we'll make money when the prices correct, likely sometime in early July."

"Sounds good. What's your target correction?"

"Only about 10% this time. It's not nearly as good as the earlier one. If we took longer options, perhaps 15%. I don't think it's worth the risk with the unrest after the bombing in Beirut and with the Reagan administration beating the drums of war, even if they don't intend to actually go to war."

"I'll take 10% in a month, and so will Noel. That'll make May much better than April. Keep me posted."

"Will do."

I left his office, returned to my desk, and started mapping out what I'd need to complete the analysis, and made notes about what I needed to discuss with Bianca. As I did so, I wondered if I might be able to get some compensation for her from Spurgeon for the work, but I'd worry about that when I delivered, and if I couldn't convince Spurgeon and Matheson, I could pay her myself.

I spent the day trying to balance my usual work and the new assignment, prioritizing my usual work. At the end of the day, I left the office and headed to University Village for my dinner with Lily, which went exactly as expected. We'd fooled around, had dinner, then I'd had 'chocolate-covered Lily' for dessert. After she'd had her similar dessert, we went to her shower to rinse off the sticky remnants of chocolate fudge and our 'natural flavors'.

"Would you be upset if I started dating someone regularly?" Lily asked as I lathered her sexy body.

"By 'regularly', you mean 'exclusively', right?"

"Yes."

"Why would I be upset if that's what you want?"

"You wouldn't. I think I asked the wrong question, or maybe it's not even a question."

"Just say what you're thinking, please."

"Unlike most people, you just want blunt answers. I want to have a regular boyfriend, and if you aren't interested, a guy I've been seeing off and on is. I'd rather be your girlfriend, but I don't think you're ready to do that, and you have other considerations."

"You're correct," I replied. "I take it from that, this is the end?"

"For now. I'm not saying this is the guy I'll marry, but to find out, I really need to see only him."

"Of course. And that doesn't mean we can't be friends or that you won't be invited to parties or Sunday football in the Fall, just that you'll have a guest with you. It also doesn't mean I won't miss evenings such as this one because I will."

"You do have a way to have them permanently, but...no, I can't say that, even with your request that I be blunt."

"What? You know you won't offend me, and I won't be upset."

Lily was quiet for a moment and rinsed off the suds before she answered.

"You're waiting for Violet to decide. If she wants you, you're hers. If not, then you'll think seriously about someone else. And that's why you won't commit -- you don't want to have to break the commitment, which you would if Violet asked you to be her boyfriend."

"People said that about Bev," I replied as Lily began lathering my body.

"After I spent some time with her, I was sure that wasn't the case. Don't ask me why, though, because it was just a vibe I picked up."

"You know the full story, right?"

"Yes, including about the teacher."

"She called Glen on Sunday, and he's coming to see Heather on Saturday."

"I didn't see THAT coming!" Lily said.

"I hoped it would, but I wasn't sure. When we had dinner on Saturday, we had a long conversation about it, and after that, she decided to allow him to see Heather and talk about the future."

"As in with each other?"

"It's a real possibility."

"Now that I think about it," Lily said, "that doesn't actually surprise me. The way she spoke about him gave the impression she really cared for him."

"You and Violet will be good friends for her, if you want to be."

"She's actually pretty cool now that she's calmed down."

"I always thought so. Who's your guy?"

"His name is Jim, and I met him at Circle."

"We're going to have a Memorial Day cookout at the house. Bring him along."

"I will!"

We finished our shower, dried off, dressed, and I headed home. I was surprised to see Keiko was in bed, but she had been tired the previous evening, so it made sense.

"Got a sec?" I asked Bianca after I changed and went to the great room where my other housemates were watching TV.

"Sure," she agreed, and we went to the front room.

"I have a project at work, and I need some help with a spreadsheet to model historical trading with a number of variables. You'd have to keep it completely secret, though."

"That sounds interesting. Of course I'll help, and of course I'll keep it secret."

"Let's plan for Saturday afternoon, if that's OK. I'll have my questions ready by then."

"That works."

May 6, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Wednesday and Thursday were typical days at work and in class; Deanna had spent the night on Wednesday and Bianca on Thursday. Keiko was still very tired, and Bianca and Shelly both encouraged her to go to the clinic at Loyola, suspecting she might be anemic, something both Shelly and Deanna had experienced during High School. I'd added my encouragement, and she'd agreed she'd see the nurse on campus.

Friday morning was also typical, and I worked out in the gym. When I returned to the office, there was a message from Thomas Hart, who wanted to arrange a meeting to discuss the Hart-Lincoln pension fund. I returned the call, arranged for a lunch meeting on Tuesday, and once that was completed, I called Detective Sergeant Thomas in Overland Park.

"I have the financial analysis," I said. "Should I fax it to you?"

"Yes. The machine is close to my desk, so if you send it now, I'll get it without having to worry about anyone seeing it."

"OK. I'll do that. Did you hear anything from the union rep about the pension fund?"

"He expressed interest, but he has to take it to the board responsible for the fund. If they're cool, then you'll be asked to make a presentation."

"OK. Let me know. I'll send the fax now. Review it and give me a call next week."

He agreed, we ended the call, and I asked Mia to send the fax, which she did. A few minutes later, my phone rang.

"FX Desk, Kane."

"Hi, Jonathan, it's Esme. Sorry to bother you at work, but Jasmine's birthday was last night. Could she come along tonight to celebrate?"

If I read the implication correctly, that would technically violate my 'no High School girls except Esme and Teri' rule, but I'd been with Jasmine before, and she'd graduate in three weeks, as would Esme and Teri.

"I don't mind," I said. "See you just after 5:00pm in the lobby of the Hancock Center?"

"Yes! Thanks!"

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then dialed Jack's number.

"Mailroom, Clinton."

"It's Jonathan. We'll have a fifth tonight, and I don't mean whisky!"

Jack laughed, "Who?"

"Esme's friend Jasmine. She turned eighteen yesterday."

"Dude!" he said, laughing. "OK."

"See you downstairs after work."

"Later."

We hung up, and I returned to working on my spreadsheet. As I worked on the various formulas, it became clear that I really did need the statistics course. I'd been firm about not taking a class over the Summer, but I felt that had to change, so I called the Registrar's Office to find out when it was offered. In doing so and checking the dates, I realized I'd miss two weeks of class due to my trip to Saint Martin. That simply couldn't work, so I thanked the guy who had answered the phone and said I'd register for the class in the Fall.

At 5:00pm, I put away my files, locked my desk, shut down my computer, and headed down to the lobby to meet Jack, Kristy, Esme, and Jasmine.

"You all know the next Star Wars movie is coming out in three weeks, right?" Jack asked.

Everyone acknowledged that they knew that, given it was being hyped everywhere.

"Well," he continued, "a double-feature of both A New Hope and Empire Strikes Back is being shown at the Tivoli theatre in Downers Grove. I was thinking we hit TGI Friday's in Lisle, then see the movie. Jonathan would have to drive, though. The theatre is along the Burlington Northern line, but the restaurant isn't."

"I'm OK with driving," I said. "And it's nice enough we could put the top down."

"COOL!" both Esme and Jasmine exclaimed.

The five of us headed for the parking garage, I unlocked the car, put down the convertible top, everyone got in, and we were on our way. Jack gave directions, and I followed the Ike to the East-West Tollway, exiting at Highland Avenue. A right turn and a second right turn put us in the restaurant parking lot next to the Sperry building.

After perusing the extensive menu, I ordered chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and a salad with gorgonzola dressing. I was tempted to order a bottle of wine, but given four out of the five of us were under twenty-one and nobody would mistake either Esme or Jasmine for being old enough to drink, I elected not to. Both girls ordered mushroom steak with mushrooms, Jack ordered a steak, and Kristy ordered chicken Parmesan.

The food was great, the conversation fun, and when we finished, Jack and I split the bill 60-40, with me paying the larger share. We headed out to the car for the ten-minute drive to the theatre. We parked, bought our tickets, bought popcorn and pop, and found seats. Esme and Jasmine sat on either side of me, and I held one of the buckets of popcorn while Jack, sitting to Esme's right, held the other and had Kristy on his right.

When the lights dimmed and the pre-movie 'trailers' began playing, both girls snuggled as close as the seats would allow and put their heads on my shoulders. They left them there until the movie started, then sat straighter to watch. When we finished the popcorn, just as the heroes were boarding the Death Star, the girls encouraged me to put my arm around their shoulders, which I did, and each girl put a hand on my leg. At that point, there was no doubt what they intended, as if there had been any real question.

There was an intermission between the movies, and we all used the restroom, then returned to our seats for the second movie. We'd all seen the movies years before when they had first come out, but we all enjoyed them, and it was a good way to prepare for Return of the Jedi which would be out on the 25th. Jack and I had already discussed getting as many people from our large group of friends together to see the movie as we could, though we'd wait a week so we didn't have to stand in long lines only to be disappointed if the shows were sold out.

After the movies, we walked down the street to get ice cream, then headed back to the house, something we could do because Esme and Jasmine had both told their parents they were spending the night with Bianca, which worked as a cover for their actual plan. As we drove, we heard on the radio that the Hawks had dropped game 5 of their playoff series to the Canucks, 6-2, which meant the Hawks were eliminated.

When we arrived home, the house was empty, so Jack and Kristy said 'good night' and went to their room while Esme, Jasmine, and I went to my room.

"How did you plan for this to go?" I asked Esme.

"We'll take turns because Jasmine isn't interested in experimenting."

"I hope you don't mind," Jasmine said.

"I don't. And I have a new box of a dozen rubbers!"

Jasmine laughed, "Esme took me to Planned Parenthood in February, and I'm on the Pill now, so we don't need them."

"Music to my ears!" I declared. "I don't mind using rubbers, but I prefer not to. Are you both sleeping in bed with me?"

"Yes," Esme said. "And we'll both stay in the room while you're with the other one. We just won't do stuff together."

"Then why do we have clothes on?" I asked with a grin.

It took me longer to get undressed because I was still wearing my suit, while the girls had on jeans, blouses, and sweaters, but a few minutes later, at Esme's urging, Jasmine and I got into bed.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked.

"Same as last time?" she suggested. "Sixty-nine, screwing, then sixty-nine to finish?"

"That works for me!" I declared, pulling her to me for a deep French kiss.

May 7, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Did we wear you out?" Esme asked as she, Jasmine, and I got into the shower after I'd had another round with them after waking up.

"You certainly were exploring the limits," I chuckled.

"Not quite as far as the baseball games, though!"

"True," I agreed.

The shower was fun, though I noticed the girls being careful not to touch each other. That was certainly in deference to Jasmine, as Esme and Katy had enthusiastically pleasured each other in my presence. Katy would be home for the Summer, so I was sure that she and Esme would ask me to get together at some point.

We finished our shower, then dried off, dressed, changed the sheets on the bed, and went downstairs to have breakfast. Bianca, Shelly, and Deanna were already in the kitchen, and Bianca offered to cook bacon for us to go with the waffles she was making. We accepted, and I poured coffee for Esme, Jasmine, and myself.

After breakfast, Bianca asked Shelly to drive the girls home so that she and I could do the shopping and work on my spreadsheets. Shelly graciously agreed, and after hugs and kisses with Esme and Jasmine, they left. Bianca and I did the grocery shopping, then went up to my room to work on my spreadsheets.

"Did Keiko say anything?" I asked.

"She had blood drawn but won't get the results back until Monday. She decided to go home after class yesterday, but she'll be back tomorrow for your dinner with your uncle."

"That's kind of out of character," I said. "But maybe it's quieter there?"

"No clue," Bianca said. "Anyway, tell me about this stuff you're doing, please."

I explained what I needed, and we began working on the necessary formulas, some of which were fairly complex. Bianca had taken stats, which helped tremendously and confirmed the idea that I absolutely had to take not only the introductory course but an advanced course as well.

"You need access to a programming language called 'S'," Bianca observed. "It's designed to do exactly the kind of modeling you want and much better than what we're doing with the spreadsheet. There's also SPSS, which was designed by some professors at the University of Chicago and is now sold by a company with that name. It has more built-in functions. I know it would run on the IBM mainframe you have at the office."

"I'll look into it," I replied. "What about 'S'?"

"It belongs to Bell Labs, so I'm not sure. You could call their office in Lisle and ask."

I made notes of those things, and by 4:00pm, we had a spreadsheet that would do what I wanted, albeit in something of a rudimentary fashion. And it was somewhat convoluted, as Bianca pointed out the limitations of what the spreadsheet program could do and once again suggested alternative programs. The other challenge was that it was on the Apple II, and that reminded me that I needed to buy my own IBM PC/XT at some point so I didn't have to rely on the computer guys at work to transfer or translate or whatever between the two systems.

I thanked Bianca, then showered, dressed, and left the house to head to Violet's house so I could take her to dinner for her birthday. On Thursday, at lunch, I'd visited Water Tower Place, and based on advice from Shelly and Bianca, I'd bought her a necklace with a charm in the shape of a cursive letter V with a tiny ruby chip at the base of the V. I'd also bought a card which I tried to balance between 'caring a lot' and 'romantic', which proved to be a difficult task, so I'd settled on a humorous card.

We'd agreed to dinner at Italian Village, and Violet was ready to go when I arrived to pick her up. She greeted me with a hug, and I wished her a 'happy birthday'. We left her house right away, and I drove to the restaurant and took advantage of the valet parking. Once we were inside, we were seated in one of their private booths, which I didn't feel was too romantic, as I didn't want to make Violet uncomfortable.

We had a very nice meal, and, when we finished, the staff brought a small cake which I'd ordered and sang Happy Birthday to Violet.

"I have cake at home," Violet said quietly.

From the look on her face, I was sure I'd screwed up, but I felt I could recover.

"No red-blooded American male will pass up the chance at having two helpings of cake!"

I handed her the small, wrapped package I'd secreted in the pocket of my blazer.

"Happy birthday!" I said, then handed her the card which I'd had in the inside vest pocket.

Violet smiled and quickly opened the card, then the box.

"It's beautiful!" she gasped. "Thank you!"

She leaned over and kissed my cheek, then asked me to put the necklace on her, which I did. We ate our cake, I paid the bill, then we left the restaurant. I retrieved my car from the valet, and we headed to Violet's house, where we had the cake she'd made.

"This is better than the one at Italian Village," I said after tasting the German chocolate cake with fudge icing.

"Do you really believe that?" Violet asked skeptically.

"Have I ever been anything other than direct and honest with you?"

"No; well, only when you needed to be, so I wasn't uncomfortable, but I understand why you did that, and it was sweet."

We enjoyed the cake and ice cream, as well as the coffee, and then we went to her living room.

"I decided to take a statistics class in the Fall," I said. "I thought about taking one over the Summer, but I'm going to Saint Martin for eight days, so I'd miss two of the eight Saturday classes. It's not offered in the evening."

"Do you know when the class is offered in the Fall?"

"Tuesdays and Thursdays, 6:00pm to 9:00pm."

"That makes having dinner a bit tight because I don't get off work until 4:30pm. That works with the 7:00pm classes we have now."

"We'll figure out what to do when the time comes."

"I could get a slow cooker," Violet said thoughtfully. "You know, a crock pot where I put the ingredients into in the morning, and it would be ready around 5:20, which is when you usually arrive. We'd have about twenty-five minutes to eat. The other option is we have a snack and eat dinner after class."

"I think either of those will work, but let's talk in August."

"OK," she agreed. "Classes end in two weeks, so after that, it'll be Sundays, right?"

"That was what we agreed."

"Lunch and dinner?"

"That sounds good."

Violet smiled and scooted closer on the couch. She surprised me by moving to my lap and putting her arms around my neck. I didn't move, not sure what I should do. Violet took a deep breath, then let it out.

"I want to," she said quietly. "But I'm scared."

XLIV. A Deep, Vital Conversation

May 7, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

It took me a few seconds to recover from the surprise of Violet admitting she wanted to make love, though as I quickly thought, I shouldn't have been surprised given what had happened in the previous month.

"I won't ever do anything that would hurt you in any way," I said gently. "And we should talk about it before we even take a small step in that direction."

Violet sagged against me and began crying softly. I had no clue what to do and decided the best course of action was to comfort her but not allow things to progress in any way until we had a chance to discuss what she'd said. I wrapped my arms loosely around her and simply waited. She cried for a good five minutes, then finally sat up.

I reached over to the end table and grabbed a box of tissues so she could take some. She dabbed her eyes and blew her nose, then got up and took the tissues to the kitchen to throw them away. When she returned, she sat next to me but sagged into the cushions with her shoulder touching mine.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"You have nothing to apologize to me for," I said gently.

"I really want to, but when I think about it..." she stopped as tears once again streamed down her face.

I put my arm around her and put the box of tissues in her lap. She took a few and dabbed her face. She took three deep breaths and let them out before she spoke.

"When I think about it," she said quietly, "all I can see is my mom holding Rose while my dad has his face between Rose's legs and then seeing him move up and start doing it with Rose. That's when I screamed."

I tensed and did my best not to squeeze my arm, which was around Violet. Anger at her dad flashed through me, but anger at her mother drowned that out. How any woman could hold her daughter down while her husband raped that daughter just left me flabbergasted. And worse, she was out of prison. And I now understood completely why Nelson had suggested I not read the court transcripts. Violet had taken a big step, and I felt I should acknowledge that.

"Being able to talk to me about it is a big step," I said.

"I've only ever said what I said to you to the police detective and social worker after my parents were arrested."

"Not Doctor Lochner?"

"No. She knew from the reports, but I never said what I just said to you to her."

"How can I help you?" I asked.

"I don't know," Violet sighed. "I'm not sure anyone can help me."

"What about seeing a counselor?" I asked. "Maybe Nancy Jane Moore can recommend someone?"

"I don't know; maybe. It's just...that would have been me."

"He's locked in prison for life," I said. "He can't hurt you."

And yet, the damage he'd done would likely never go away, and the fear that Violet was expressing might never dissipate. I was thankful she hadn't tried to force herself to do anything, as that would have very likely ended in complete disaster.

"Would you stay?" Violet asked. "You could sleep in the room Bev used."

That seemed like a reasonable request, and Violet and I had slept in adjoining rooms at the motel in Overland Park without incident. The only fly in the ointment was my dinner with my aunt and uncle, but that wasn't until later in the day.

"Yes," I replied. "I do have to leave mid-morning because I'm going to my uncle's house."

"That's OK. I just don't want to be alone right now."

We sat quietly on the couch for about an hour, with Violet leaning against me and my arm around her, with the radio playing in the background. That gave me plenty of time to think, but I couldn't see a way out for Violet unless she could somehow get past what had happened to her.

Eventually, Violet was ready to go up to bed, so we turned off the radio, turned out the lights, and went up the stairs. She showed me to the spare room, hugged me tightly, then went into her room. I went into the bathroom in the hall, emptied my bladder, used some mouthwash that was on the sink because I didn't have a toothbrush, then went back to the bedroom. I shut the door, stripped down to my briefs and T-shirt, and got into bed. It took a while before my mind was clear enough to fall asleep, but I eventually did.

May 8, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I woke on Sunday morning and was relieved that Violet had not crept into bed with me, something I'd feared might happen. I considered my options and decided to simply get dressed. I did, then went down to the kitchen and made coffee with Violet's Mr. Coffee machine. Before it finished, Violet came downstairs, dressed for the day.

"Good morning," I said.

"I'm sorry about last night," Violet said.

I smiled, "There is literally nothing to apologize for."

"But I know you want to..." she said quietly.

"And you also know I would never do anything that would hurt you. Ever. One of the most important things a man can do is understand the difference between things he wants to do and things he should do. We can continue this conversation if you wish, or we can change the topic. And we should make breakfast either way."

"Waffles?"

"That's fine with me."

Violet got the ingredients from the fridge and pantry and began making batter. The coffee finished brewing, and I poured cups for each of us, then plugged in the waffle iron so it could preheat.

"I think we can talk about it," Violet said. "I'll try not to cry."

"Cry as much as you need to," I counseled. "Do you want me to explain?"

"Yes, please."

"And it's OK to just say what I think?"

"I want you to," Violet said. "Just be honest, please?"

"I will. Fundamentally, so long as you're frightened of physical intimacy, all we can ever be is friends. I think you understand why."

"Because you want kids, which requires being together that way."

"Yes. I mean, sure, it's possible to adopt, and I wouldn't turn down a girl who I felt was the right person to marry because she was infertile or there was some incompatibility that made conceiving difficult. But that's different from not ever being together as husband and wife."

Violet took a deep breath and let it out.

"I sometimes wonder if I should just do it to get it over with," she said.

If there was a bad reason for Violet to do it, that was certainly it. I totally understood the concept, but in Violet's case, it could be disastrous. With her, it wasn't the idea of following a Prom tradition or deciding to do it to find out what it was all about or letting hormones override rational thought. With Violet, I feared that her emotional state was such that having sex might leave her in a condition similar to her sister's.

"I don't believe that's wise," I said. "That could have devastating consequences if you weren't emotionally ready."

"Now you sound like Doctor Lochner."

"Maybe," I replied. "But remember, my disagreement with her was about all other aspects of your life and, more specifically, about her insistence that the only thing I wanted was to have sex with you. And while I have come to the opinion that it might be possible, that's overridden by my absolute conviction to never, ever hurt you. The other difference between Doctor Lochner and me is that I believe it might be possible for you to overcome the mental and emotional trauma while she resolutely rejected that as a possibility, despite using words that implied she felt it was possible."

"You think she lied?"

"I think she used language in a way that she intended to convey something different from what she believed for the purpose of staying out of trouble. I don't know how medical licenses work, but I had the feeling she was prevaricating to prevent trouble with her license."

"What's that word?"

"Prevaricating? It means being evasive or hedging. So she said it was 'possible' while believing it was so improbable that it would never happen. It's a language nuance -- it's possible that I'll sprout wings and fly to England, but it's not probable. I can, without crossing my fingers, say that it's possible while not believing it would ever happen."

"Word games, right?" Violet asked as she put batter on the waffle iron.

"Yes. Is it OK to keep going?"

"Yes."

"Think back fifteen months about how you reacted to the implications of my putting your gum in my mouth. You covered it up pretty well, but you had a minor panic attack, right?"

"Yes."

"And that was just thinking about a French kiss. I know you're working with Nancy Jane Moore on your panic attacks, and that appears to have made it so that physical contact in terms of tighter hugs, or touching shoulders, or even sitting on my lap doesn't cause a panic attack. When you revealed what you see in your mind, that concerned me because those are normal things lovers do."

Violet laughed softly, "I did go to High School, so I do know about it! Mostly, it was the other way around that was talked about. It's only when I think about doing things myself that I get scared. Would you hug me, please?"

I nodded, held out my arms and for the first time, Violet melted against me, then put her head on my chest and sighed deeply.

"I feel so safe," she said. "But scared, too, if that makes sense."

"It does," I replied.

Violet was, as I saw it, working her way up to kissing me, and that would create a significant dilemma, as once she had done that, I wouldn't feel right being with any other girl until Violet expressly stated she couldn't go further, something I wouldn't expect her to say, given her obvious desire. She wanted to be a girlfriend, then a wife and mother, but her traumatic experience at the hands of her evil parents was an obstacle she might never overcome, no matter how much she desired it.

Weirdly, I believed that a kiss from Violet would be a commitment in ways that having sex with just about any other girl was not. To me, once I started down that path, I would have to follow it to its conclusion, no matter where it led. Not doing so might well destroy all the progress Violet had made. That made a first kiss momentous act and implied a commitment. Even stranger, despite my unwillingness to make a lifetime commitment to Teri or Clara or Keiko or Huifen, I was willing to do that for Violet, if it were possible for her to get past the trauma.

"The waffle is ready," Violet said about two minutes later.

She broke the hug to take the waffle from the iron, and after she put more batter on the iron, we sat down at the dinette table to share the first waffle. We each took a half, slathered it with butter, and then poured on maple syrup and began to eat.

"Can I ask you something?" she inquired.

"Of course."

"What would I have to do to be your girlfriend?"

"Honestly? I don't know that I can answer that question easily."

"If it's 'go to bed together,' you can just say it, so I know."

"It's more complicated than that," I replied. "First, that's not necessary before a hypothetical wedding night..."

"I don't think that matters," she said, interrupting. "I know people do it before, and some do it just for fun. I wouldn't need to wait for that. Sorry I interrupted."

"Actually, I'm glad you did because, with you, it could never be 'just for fun'. It would mean something to me in a way that it's never meant to me before. And that's where it becomes complicated because I have this feeling that I can't explain that a real kiss would mean the same thing. For whatever reason, I could never casually kiss you, let alone do anything else."

"Because of the implication?" Violet asked. "I mean, where the kiss leads? Which is what caused me to have a mild panic attack that night in class when you chewed my gum."

"Maybe," I replied. "I think it would be a commitment to be with you, and only you, until you say it can't go any further."

"And you're afraid that it could never get to the point of going to bed together?"

"I think so," I replied. "But my thinking is muddled."

"Which is strange because you usually think very clearly."

"Honestly, what your parents did is affecting me, too. Not in the same way, obviously, but it makes me much more cautious and protective. And the entire situation has muddled my thinking."

"That makes sense, I think," Violet allowed. "And explains why you could with Bev or Lily."

"I usually don't go into details, but I think both of them would forgive me. With Bev, she was 'the one', and we messed it up by having sex without truly understanding our relationship. We both made so many errors because we were so naturally a couple that nothing was ever said. Our first kiss was on Bev's sixteenth birthday, and five minutes later, neither of us was a virgin."

Violet laughed softly, "Uhm, wow!"

"Yeah. With Lily, it started out as boyfriend and girlfriend, but it was her first serious relationship, and my first serious acknowledged relationship. I still didn't understand what had happened with Bev at that time. Lily called me a 'starter boyfriend' and we kind of forged a path neither of us had trod. We encountered problems, broke up, then began seeing each other occasionally. Other than Bev, Lily is the only girl I've ever dated exclusively, and what Bev and I had wasn't really dating, at least as we saw it at the time.

"I still saw it that way when I asked Lily to go steady with me. I learned a lot in that relationship, and I've done my best to avoid making the same mistakes. I dated one other girl seriously, though not exclusively, and that fell apart as well, mainly from my inability or unwillingness to commit, which I think was related to the situation with Bev growing up. I've more or less worked through the situation with Bev, and hopefully, I've learned from those mistakes and the ones I made with Lily."

"I know you and Lily still go to bed together," Violet said.

"Actually, she's going to start dating a guy named Jim, and they're going to be a couple, so that's no longer true about Lily and me."

"And you're OK with that?"

"It's what Lily thinks is best for her, so yes, of course. I let her know she should bring him to the Memorial Day cookout we're having at the house. Other girls I've dated since I came to Chicago will be there with boyfriends, too. And, of course, you're invited, as are Bev and Heather."

Violet got up to get the second waffle, which we also split between us.

"What do you think we should do?" Violet asked.

"Heck if I know," I replied. "Let's finish eating so I have a bit of time to think."

"OK."

We ate, did the dishes, and then went to the living room and sat on the couch, which had given me nearly twenty minutes to think things through.

"I think, for now, that hugs, cuddling, or you sitting on my lap are OK, but anything more really has to wait until you believe you can commit to eventually going to bed together. And I don't mean possibly, I mean commit, even if it's some time down the road and we take a long time to get here."

Violet was quiet for about thirty seconds before she answered.

"That makes sense, I think," she said.

"And that first kiss has to be mutually agreed," I replied. "Please don't just kiss me on the lips without asking first, OK?"

"OK. I wouldn't want you to do that without asking. Can I sit in your lap for a bit before you leave?"

"Yes, of course."

Violet climbed into my lap, drew up her legs, and snuggled close. I put my arms loosely around her and held her for about ten minutes before she moved next to me.

"I know you have to go," she said. "Dinner tomorrow, as usual, right?"

"Yes."

We got up from the couch, she walked me to the door, we exchanged a tight hug, she kissed my cheek, and I headed to my car for the drive home. As I drove, I contemplated what had happened, the potential for a massive upheaval in my life, and how I'd handle a request from Violet to kiss her. I'd set the parameters for an intimate relationship, but I had no way of judging if Violet could say with any certainty that she was able to eventually consummate. I would have to, as was said, take a leap of faith.

When I arrived home, Deanna was working in her studio, which doubled as her bedroom, Shelly was out with Perry, Kristy and Jack were out, Keiko had not returned, and Bianca was doing homework in the front room. She greeted me and, unsurprisingly, followed me up to my bedroom.

"The entire game appears to have changed," Bianca said, stopping at the door to the bedroom.

"Come in," I said. "I'm going to shower, but we can talk."

"Uh-oh," Bianca said, coming into my room and closing the door.

"First," I said, as I began undressing, "what you suspect might have happened most decidedly did not happen. Violet slept in her room, and I slept in a guest room, and that is not an attempt to misdirect you."

Bianca laughed, "Because sleeping in separate rooms would not rule out having had sex, or making out, or whatever."

"Correct. On the other hand, we had a very deep, vital conversation and, at least so far as we could at this stage, got it all out on the table. She knows how I feel, I know how she feels, and I know what she wants. The problem is the mental and emotional trauma from her past might never allow her to get to that point. And, fundamentally, from my perspective, unless she can say unequivocally that she'll eventually be able to consummate a relationship, we can't even share a romantic kiss. And the reason for that is that a kiss with Violet would mean we were a couple."

"OK, now that's strange in general but beyond weird for you! You've had sex with a bunch of virgins and NEVER felt it was any kind of commitment. But a kiss with Violet would mean every other girl was off limits?"

"As odd as that sounds, I don't see how it could be any other way. Kissing Violet would mean I was committed to following the path to its conclusion, either with her saying she couldn't, or making love with all that phrase entails."

"Have you ever 'made love' to anyone?"

"An interesting question in light of the conversations I had with Bev and Haley in the past week."

I went to the shower, and Bianca followed me into the bathroom and leaned against the sink while I waited for the water to come to the right temperature. When it did, I moved under the spray.

"Care to expound on that?" Bianca asked.

"When I had my conversation with Bev, she made the comment that she had asked Glen to make love to her and contrasted that with fucking Bob. But then she added that she and I only ever fucked until after Heather was born. But as I think about it, her distinction really wasn't one of her feelings for me but of, well, technique, I guess. Bev, and some other girls, equate vigorousness with 'fucking' and 'slow and gentle' with making love."

"That doesn't surprise me, really," Bianca observed. "But doesn't that imply certain emotions?"

"And that is exactly the conversation I had with Haley that royally pissed her off."

"Oh?"

"I asked her how she could tell the difference between fucking and making love without being a mind reader. That came up in the context of my not believing in the concept of being 'in love'. I expressed the view that all she could judge by was my words and actions, and I could, very easily, play the part of the romantic, sensitive boyfriend, and if I hadn't revealed my thinking, there was no possible way for her to know if I was 'in love' with her or not. She disagreed, and her only defense was, in effect, women's intuition."

"I bet that went over like a lead balloon with you, Mr. Spock!"

I chuckled, "Let's just say my only response was to say that all we could do was agree to disagree because there was no way for me to prove my point once I'd revealed what I thought about love versus being 'in love'."

"I bet you a million dollars you haven't had that conversation with Violet."

"You don't have a million bucks to back the bet, and I don't have the million to pay off unless I raid Jeri's trust fund, so no bet! Not to mention it's a sucker bet, given you know darn well I'd never say anything like that to Violet because of her situation."

"So you'd go through the motions and let her believe you were 'in love' with her?"

"And what exactly would be the difference from her perspective if I said and did the right things because I loved her, even if I wasn't 'in love' with her? That was the point I was making with Haley. Nobody can know anyone's inner thoughts; all we can know is what we observe in their actions and hear in their words."

"Isn't that dishonest?"

"How so? If I say 'I love you' to you, does that mean I'm 'in love' with you? And what's the practical difference? In fact, YOU said it to me, and I took it one way, but it's entirely possible you felt another way. All I can do is judge based on the information I have, which does not include a Vulcan mind meld!"

Bianca laughed, "What about a human genital meld?"

"You're welcome to join me in the shower, if you like."

"Sorry, that was just a quip. I don't want to interrupt the conversation."

"Somebody mark this day on the calendar! Bianca Pérez is choosing conversation over sex!"

"Give me a break!" Bianca replied, rolling her eyes. "I can have sex with you anytime I want, except Monday and Wednesday evenings! We don't have as much time to talk with all the new people in the house."

"True," I agreed. "My point is, though, that emotions are internal reactions to external stimuli combined with your interior life, and they can't actually be conveyed accurately. Think about crying -- it can be an expression of sadness, joy, fear, regret, or some other feeling. The only way to know is context, but even that can be misleading. Add in the fact that we don't understand ourselves very well, and we might not even know the true source of the feeling, even if we think we do."

"Jesus, Jonathan, that's some deep thinking."

"A product of reading the Eastern philosophy Anala suggested and voraciously reading news and information sources, plus analysis and deep conversations. I think I can demonstrate my point by simply asking you how you feel about me. I bet you can't tell me or even show me your true feelings because even you don't understand them well enough to articulate them."

"Is that true of you as well?"

"Absolutely. All knowledge is imperfect. If I had perfect knowledge, I'd have figured out how to make better gains than the S&P in April, or I'd be able to go to Vegas and put whatever the maximum bet is on a single number at a roulette table. Think about the spreadsheet we created -- there are variables even for historical data, and the results are, at best, a fuzzy estimate. Part of that is because we're only using opening and closing prices, which don't reflect the daily highs and lows. That's good enough to figure out if the alleged investment strategy could work, though I'd prefer we could build a better computer model and had better data."

"If you can get access to the programs I suggested, we can improve the model, I think, though you'd need much more powerful computers than the ones we have access to in order to run the kind of simulations you're thinking about. You'd probably need a Cray X-MP to do it."

"A what?"

"A supercomputer. It can perform 800 megaflops per second. A megaflop is a million floating point operations, that is, in layman's terms, math operations with numbers with decimal points. It's a better judge of how fast a computer is than the number of instructions per second. I suspect your mainframe at work can do between five and eight megaflops. Your IBM PC/XT can't even do a megaflop per second, even with the math chip, which I'm sure yours has.

"The Cray is at least a hundred thousand times faster than your Apple or your IBM and a hundred times faster than your mainframe at Spurgeon. Of course, it also costs something like $15 million compared to a few grand for your PC/XT. And those numbers are only for floating point. Doing integer math is WAY faster, as are things like comparing strings, that is, letters and numbers as letters and numbers, rather than for math."

"You just went so far over my head, I'd drown before I reached the surface!"

"You could hire me!" Bianca offered.

"That consideration actually crossed my mind, and I'm going to make sure you're paid for the time you spend helping me. You graduate in two years, and I think that will be about the time I'm in a position to make that kind of recommendation."

I got out of the shower, and Bianca handed me a towel so I could dry myself.

"I think working on those kinds of simulations would be lots of fun and would be very interesting. I absolutely want to discuss it two years from now!"

We left the bathroom, I dressed, and we went downstairs to hang out.

"What are you doing today?" I asked.

"Some of the girls are coming over to hang out -- Juliette, Julianne, and Ellie. You won't be out late, will you?"

"No. We'll likely be home by 9:00pm, assuming Keiko is feeling well enough."

Almost as if summoned by her words, Keiko came into the house through the back door and came to join us.

"I heard from the nurse at the clinic," she said. "I am anemic, and a doctor from Loyola prescribed iron tablets."

"And that will solve it?" I asked.

"They don't know the underlying cause, but the iron tablets should help with what the nurse called 'chronic fatigue'. I also need to drink OJ because vitamin C helps your body absorb iron. I don't drink citrus usually, so that might be part of the problem."

"So, what about the underlying cause?" I asked.

"More tests, but I need to see a doctor. I have an appointment for Tuesday afternoon."

"Did you start taking the iron pills?" Bianca asked.

"Yes. They called in the prescription to Osco by my parents' house, and I started yesterday. I still feel tired, but it's supposed to take a few days to take full effect."

"Are you still up for dinner at my uncle's house?"

"Yes," Keiko replied. "I slept a lot at home and did homework when I was awake."

"As long as you're sure. I'll understand if you want to stay home."

Keiko smiled, "It's fine, I promise. I want to go with you."

"I'll make sure we're home early enough so you can get to bed."

"Thanks."

We hung out in the front room with music playing until lunch, when Deanna, who had paint on her hands, face, and smock, joined us to eat.

"Is there any paint on the canvas?" I asked.

Deanna laughed, "Yes! I just focus so much on my art that I don't even notice. I'll do stuff like put my brush on my chin while I'm thinking, despite it having oil-based paint on it."

"Obviously!" Bianca teased. "Ever consider body art?"

"Hmm...paint Jonathan?" Deanna mused. "Literally, I mean!"

"Does Jonathan have a say in this matter?" I asked with a grin.

"He does!" Deanna declared. "And yes, there are body paints that can be purchased or even made. Some of them are, in effect, 'painted on jeans', if you will, and are more like latex; edible ones would be made with corn syrup, corn starch, food coloring, and flavoring."

"That sounds too complicated," I chuckled. "Just go for chocolate sauce or fudge or jam or even pancake syrup of some kind!"

"The voice of experience?" Deanna asked.

"I may or may not have eaten chocolate-covered body parts before!"

"And had that done to you, too, right?" Bianca asked.

"Of course. You two aren't the only girls I know with ideas for experiments and games!"

"Jonathan prefers eating Japanese!" Keiko declared mirthfully.

"Jonathan does like that," I said, "but he's not foolish enough to say something that will land him in Dutch!"

"He does like eating Mexican!" Bianca declared.

"Good old American food seems to please his palate!" Deanna added.

"I'd suggest a body paint house party," Bianca replied, "but I'm not sure Keiko, Jack, and Kristy would be comfortable with that, and Shelly couldn't participate."

"I still haven't changed my opinion that sex isn't a spectator sport," Keiko said. "I know all of you are OK with it, but I'm not. I don't object to Jonathan doing that if he wants to; it's just not for me."

"Which is perfectly OK," I said. "Having an open mind and being open to new experiences does not mean you do anything and everything that someone suggests! We all have lines we won't cross as well as others we might in special circumstances. The key is not to judge anyone based on their choices. And, I'll add, those choices might be constrained by an agreement you make with someone.

"The core values of this house are being open-minded, not judging, being accepting, and caring for each other. That goes for anyone who lives here or visits. As I said to someone recently -- I have no time for bigots. And even less time for religious zealots. They're free to practice their religion anywhere but here, so long as they leave me and my friends alone."

"You meant the boys, right?" Deanna asked.

"Yes. Dustin, Trevor, Costas, and Archie all are harassed at one time or another, and the core of it seems to have its source in Abraham's fellow travelers."

"I think the blame is better placed on Augustine of Hippo," Bianca said. "He was the prude's prude, and much of Catholic doctrine, especially with regard to sex, stems from him. Your Jewish friends seem more tolerant."

"If he's Catholic, how does that explain Islam?" I asked.

"What part? The Ottoman Empire was not prudish and was very scientific until it became weak and collapsed. Tehran was a cosmopolitan city like Berlin or Paris until about four years ago, and so was Beirut until last year. Turkey and Indonesia aren't anything like Iran under the Ayatollah or Saudi Arabia under Wahhabi imams."

"I don't know enough about it to say," I said. "Just what I read in the Press, which I'm sure is biased because of the Iranian Hostage Crisis, terrorism, hijackings, and the recent bombing in Lebanon. In any event, bigotry has no place in this house."

"The only thing anyone is religious about in this house is sex!" Bianca declared, causing the rest of us to laugh.

"Amen to that!" Deanna declared, causing us to laugh once again.

We finished eating and hung out until it was time for Keiko and me to dress for our dinner at my uncle's house. Once we dressed, we walked out to the car and headed for Logan Square.

"What tests do you need to have?" I inquired. "I mean, if it's OK to ask."

"More blood tests, basically. In addition to the low red blood cell count, I have a slightly low white cell count. That can be caused by some viral infections, which seems counterintuitive, but supposedly, it happens right after you get the infection. But that's just speculation from the nurse. I'll have a complete physical on Tuesday, and they'll draw more blood. The nurse said not to worry, and I'm not, but my mom is, of course."

"I'm fairly certain that comes with the territory. I think moms are supposed to be concerned."

"I could do without her concern about my 'round-eye' boyfriend!" Keiko groused.

"I'm going to guess that's some kind of insult in Japanese?"

"It's actually not Japanese, but she picked it up somewhere. When she says it, it's similar to using a racist word for blacks or Hispanics. It's kind of like using «外人» (gaijin), a negative word for someone who is not fully Japanese."

"With the same connotation as the racist words we're both carefully avoiding."

"Yes. You know my grandfather has no problem with you and likes you very much!"

"I like him, too."

"You would make an excellent «空手家» (karate-ka) -- student of karate -- because you reject violence and respect traditional values, even if you don't necessarily follow them. Your exposure to Eastern philosophy would put you ahead of many of his students."

"I don't have the time to dedicate to it, and I suspect I would disappoint him because of that."

"Yes, dedication is key. I will warn you that if we marry, as you think is possible, he will insist."

"And a few years from now, I might be able to dedicate the time to it. We can cross that particular bridge when we come to it, assuming we get married."

"Not a given, but certainly possible, right?" Keiko asked.

It was possible, my conversation with Violet notwithstanding, given the difficulty of knowing if Violet could ever have a physical relationship. Nobody else came close to Keiko, though Teri was intriguing. That said, if I was forced to choose, Keiko would win hands down. And that made it easy for me to answer affirmatively.

"Yes, as we've discussed."

"But a baby with Bianca first, right?" Keiko inquired.

"That is what she wants, and you indicated that would be acceptable."

"If you expect to have a mistress, even briefly, you're talking to the wrong girl! Before we marry, I have no claims; after we marry, I would."

"Message received loud and clear!" I declared with a grin.

Keiko laughed, "Seriously, Jonathan, with the way you live now, don't you think I have to make that exceedingly clear?"

"Yes, of course! I'd expect to discuss all the parameters beforehand, including questions of kids, where we'd live, the division of labor in the household, and so on. In my mind, it would be foolish not to discuss those things. I think we've covered sex."

"I'd say so!" Keiko declared. "And to think I came to you because Ellie told me how awesome it was, and I expected nothing more than a night of extreme pleasure! Little did I know you prefer Oriental girls!"

"It's not just that," I said. "It's your entire personality. Yes, I find you to be very cute and very attractive, and I believe we'd have cute kids together, but it's much deeper than skin color, hair color, and eye shape.

"Yes, of course! And it's more than just great sex because I enjoy being with you and find you to be handsome, even if you're a giant compared to me!"

"Thanks, I think!" I said lightly. "We're almost there, so please just remember to ignore my cousin."

"That girl is going to end up in serious trouble one day if someone doesn't rein her in."

"The phrase 'spoiled rotten' applies perfectly to her."

It took a few minutes to find a parking spot, but I did, and then Keiko and I walked hand-in-hand to my uncle's house. I rang the bell, and he let us in.

"Hi, Jonathan! Hi, Keiko! Welcome!"

"Hello, Mr. Glass," Keiko said.

"It's OK to call me Alec," he replied. "Come in!"

We went inside, and he offered us drinks, with Keiko accepting a glass of white wine and me a glass of whisky. Lisa walked through the room and glared at me, but she didn't say anything.

"I see she still has the same opinion of me," I said quietly.

"I don't think Jeri Lundgren is helping matters," Uncle Alec said. "Lisa won't even talk to her because Jeri was insisting you're a really nice guy."

"So Jeri doesn't know him very well, then," Keiko teased.

"Hey!" I protested as my uncle laughed.

"She sounds just like Wendy when we were dating!" Uncle Alec said.

"I'll take that as a compliment, Mr. Gl...Alec," Keiko said with a smile.

"Hi, Jonathan! Hi, Keiko!" Aunt Wendy said, coming into the room. "Dinner is in about forty minutes."

"Do you need help?" I asked. "I'd like to ask you a few questions about your dad."

"Come to the kitchen with me," she said. "I can always use the help!"

"OK with you?" I asked Keiko.

"Yes, you're doing what I asked, so by all means, go!"

I gave her a quick kiss and followed my aunt into the kitchen.

XLV. You Can Take That to the Bank!

May 8, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"What did you want to know about your grandfather?" Aunt Wendy asked as I chopped ingredients for the salad.

"How will he react to me reaching out to him?"

"First, does my sister know?"

"Yes. I spoke to Mom about it. The background for my question is Keiko's grandfather places a very high value on family relationships, especially respect for elders. At some point, he'll ask to meet my family."

"You and Keiko are that serious?"

"Serious enough," I replied. "We're not a couple, but we're certainly moving in that direction, with all it might entail."

"Interesting. I had you pegged for the bachelor life for years!"

"There's no commitment at this point, only exploration of the future. And I do see other girls, and yes, Keiko knows that, but she's confident."

"A cute Japanese girl? I suspect she should be!"

I chuckled, "I do have a preference. Back to my grandfather, though. I ask, too, because I know he knows I'm in Chicago and hasn't reached out. That's not an accusation, mind you, because I haven't reached out, either."

"He did make some gestures when you were younger, right?"

"The last one was when I was eight, and he sent me a .22 rifle for Christmas. Mom let me keep it, and I wrote a thank you note, but I don't know if Mom even sent it. That was the last time I heard from them."

"If I know my sister," Aunt Wendy said, "she would have sent the card but probably also sent a note asking him to stop. She's still bitter."

"With good reason," I replied. "Though she did say that she would have given me their address and phone number at any time if I'd asked, which I didn't. And I obviously had no real desire to get in touch with them until Keiko encouraged me to."

"The first words out of his mouth after 'hello' will be to ask you either what church you attend or if you've accepted Jesus Christ as your personal savior."

"That's going to, if you'll pardon the expression, go straight to Hell."

Aunt Wendy laughed, "And yet, seemingly appropriate. I take it you're an atheist?"

"Yes. Keiko practices Shinto."

"That will actually go over less well than you being an atheist."

"How so?"

"Because you aren't following a false religion or false gods. In his mind, that's better than following a false god."

"Free clue," I said. "His god is no different from Zeus, Isis, or Thor."

"I'd suggest not saying that to him."

"I won't, though I'm not going to lie about what I believe."

"As you shouldn't. But honestly, if you were Catholic, he'd put you in the same box as Keiko."

"Hang on! Catholics are Christians, just as he is!"

"He would most vehemently disagree with you on that. In his mind, Catholics populate Hell, along with anyone else who rejects his understanding of Christianity."

"Well, if places such as Heaven and Hell actually existed, which they don't, I have a sneaking suspicion that he'd be offended by the actual population of both!"

Aunt Wendy laughed, "You're not wrong about that."

"Is there any way to avoid a futile conversation and find some common ground?"

"Difficult at best."

"How do you manage? I mean, after all, you got pregnant with Lisa before you and Uncle Alec married."

"Getting married changed things a bit in his mind, and I was baptized as a teenager, so he's made some allowances. He's unhappy about Lisa, of course, but has a grudging respect for Alec because he 'made an honest woman' of me."

"Which wasn't possible for Mom. Did she tell you I found out about the plane crash?"

"No!"

"A friend of mine, who was a district legislative aide to Mayor Washington when he was a Congressman, called a friend at the FAA who checked the records at the NTSB. They found out he was on Continental Airlines Flight 11, which crashed on May 22, 1962, en route from Chicago to Kansas City, Missouri. It was brought down by a bomb set off by a guy who apparently was suicidal over legal and financial problems. He wanted his wife to get the insurance."

"You're sure?"

"Positive. We checked the passenger list, and my friend called the place he had claimed to work, and his employment ended the same day as the plane crash."

"Had Mom told your grandfather that, it might have made a difference."

"She didn't know those details when she was pregnant with me. Whoever mom spoke to simply said he'd died in a plane crash without details. It's entirely possible they didn't know the cause when Mom spoke to them. Given she obviously was pregnant in February, and the government report wasn't published until August, nobody could know for sure before then. And they would have had to read it in the newspaper, assuming it was published."

"Which makes total sense. Your mom told you his name?"

"Yes," I replied, choosing not to reveal the fake name he'd given my mom. "And I know she refused to tell anyone who he was at the time. I don't have the timing down exactly, but when was Mom kicked out of the house?"

"At the end of May 1962, around the time she finished her Sophomore Year of High School. She lived with a girl named Bev Thompson for two years before she graduated. Once she graduated, she bought the house with Bev's dad co-signing the note."

"That part I didn't know," I replied. "I know about Beverly Thompson, well, Vaughn now, though I haven't seen her since I was about fourteen. She has two daughters, both younger than me. The other friend I met was Jennie McGrath. I was at her first husband's funeral and then at her wedding to her second husband."

"And that was about the time we moved to Illinois. Dad was friends with a man named Robert Van Kampen, who is one of those 'End Times' fanatics. He convinced Dad to move here."

"'End times fanatics'?"

"He believes we're about to usher in the 'End Times', as described in the Bible. You know, Jesus returning and fighting Satan and the Rapture."

"Sounds nuts. Wait! This is THE Bob Van Kampen?"

"What do you mean?"

"If it's the guy I think it is, he's a legend in the investment industry. His company, Van Kampen Merritt, has sold north of $6 billion in insured unit investment trusts, which pay federally tax free interest. When New York City defaulted on their bonds, customers came running for his insured products. His offices are here in Chicago."

"It has to be the same man," Aunt Wendy said. "Dad said he was some kind of investment manager. Alec might know more."

"Maybe, but real estate and municipal bonds are totally separate markets. Anyway, so what's the bottom line?"

"All I can say is that you should call him, but be prepared to be disappointed."

"I'd have to have positive expectations to be disappointed! I don't, but I hoped at least for some kind of modus vivendi. That doesn't seem possible, but I'll do my best to avoid arguing with him."

"I wish you luck."

"If you'll give me his phone number and address, I'll get in touch with him and see what happens."

She wrote out the address and phone number, handed me the piece of note paper, I folded it, and put it in my pocket. I finished the things she needed me to, then returned to the living room to find my uncle alone.

"Keiko went to use the powder room," Uncle Alec said. "She's a sweet girl, and you don't want to let that one go!"

"I agree," I said. "Neither of us is in any rush, but we both see the possibility of a shared future."

"How are things at work?"

"Very good," I replied. "I'm keeping busy, learning, and I have an interesting project, though I can't speak about it."

"I often have the same situation with real estate deals. If word gets out too soon, it attracts other bidders who can make a complete mess of things! How is the new house?"

"Great! The rent my housemates pay effectively covers the mortgage, and it costs them far less than living in the dorms."

"You've put together a pretty good thing in two years."

"I have, and I'm grateful for you helping me get my foot in the door."

"You've done all the hard work!"

"And yet, without the contact and the introduction, I wouldn't be here. One thing I've learned at Spurgeon is contacts are very important. That's the point of the time I'm spending with Jeri. Our group now has an attorney, a banker, a pre-med student, the Deputy Chief of Staff for Senator Alan Dixon, Jeri, and me. I also have a very good contact in Mayor Washington's administration, and I'm developing others."

"Sounds as if you're on the right path."

"I think so."

Keiko came back from the powder room, and a few minutes later, Aunt Wendy let us know that dinner was ready. I helped her bring everything to the table, suppressing a laugh when Lisa glared at me. I wasn't about to let her bug me or, if she did, give her any satisfaction that she had annoyed me in some way.

Dinner was excellent, as was dessert, and once I helped Aunt Wendy clean up, Keiko and I thanked my aunt and uncle, then left so we could get home and she could go to bed. She was still tired, and I hoped that the iron pills would help. When we arrived home, she went straight upstairs, and I went to the great room, where I found Bianca, Shelly, Julianne, Juliette, and Ellie.

"Where are the others?" I asked.

"Deanna is in her studio and has been most of the day. She has a project due before the end of the semester. Jack and Kristy were at her house for dinner and aren't back yet. Did Keiko go right to bed?"

"Yes."

"Does that mean you're available?" Ellie asked.

"I am."

"How about we go over some questions from the material you gave me, then fool around?"

"I'm game. Just remember, I have to be up about 5:30 so I can have breakfast before I head to work."

"Worth it!" Ellie exclaimed.

I said 'good night', and Ellie and I went up to my room. I spent about thirty minutes answering Ellie's questions about work as part of my promised training, and then we got into bed to fool around.

May 9, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I wasn't too surprised when Ellie got out of bed with me on Monday morning, saying she preferred me to give her a ride to campus rather than waiting for Kristy, Bianca, or Keiko. We showered together, then went downstairs to have breakfast with Jack. While we were eating, Deanna came into the kitchen to get some coffee.

"No sleep?" I asked.

"I'm trying to complete a portfolio that's due in ten days, and it's a mix of media and styles. Realism isn't my thing, but that's what this portfolio is about. I can do it, of course, but it doesn't flow the way my abstract work does."

"I'd ask if there is anything I could do to help, but I doubt there is."

"Put a hit contract on my professor?"

"I'm not sure that would help," I chuckled. "Wouldn't they just appoint someone to take over the class?"

"Unfortunately, yes. Later!"

She took her cup of coffee and left the kitchen.

"I would never have expected an art student to have to pull 'all-nighters'," Ellie observed.

"My friend in the architecture program at IIT often has to do that," I said. "That's one reason I don't see her as often as I'd like. Well, that and she's met someone who needs more philosophical and spiritual help than I do."

"Spiritual?" Jack inquired. "You?"

"My requirements are zero from my perspective, not from hers. But in that regard, she's a bit frustrated with me because I reject any and all notions of god in whatever form. Buddhism is interesting in that it's more philosophy than religion."

"Is Keiko Buddhist?" Jack asked.

"Shinto," I replied. "With her, that incorporates elements of Zen Buddhism. What's interesting is, according to Keiko, Shinto has no leader, no defined set of religious texts, and an extremely wide variation of practices and beliefs. In many ways, it's more a tradition and practice, with the only truly common thing being a belief in «kami» -- animating spirits. In Keiko's mind, it's inexorably linked to being Japanese, and one cannot be Japanese without a belief in «kami», nor can one truly believe in «kami» without being Japanese."

"So you couldn't 'convert'?" Ellie asked.

"Not really. From what I understand, even living in Japan and speaking Japanese is insufficient to cease being foreign to what she calls Japanese 'culturalism'. Basically, to be Japanese, one must not only follow Japanese tradition and culture and speak the language but also be ethnically Japanese."

"That sounds almost racist," Jack observed.

"Which is, at least in part, why Keiko identifies as 'Japanese-American' and refers to herself as 'Sansei', a word that means the child of someone who is 'Nisei', which is a word that means the child of Japanese immigrants. Her aunt married an American, and her grandfather fully accepted him. Keiko's grandfather was born in Hawaiߴi before it became a state. The generations maintain Japanese culture and practices, though it varies greatly even within the family."

"You sound as if you guys are serious," Ellie observed.

"I think the best answer is we're exploring a shared future," I replied. "But neither of us is in a hurry."

We finished eating, and Jack went upstairs to kiss Kristy goodbye.

"Would you be interested in getting together with me and some of the girls for an end-of-the-semester fling?" Ellie asked after Jack had gone up the stairs.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked.

"Aurelio's for pizza, then hanging out here?"

"The last day of exams is June 10th, right?"

"Yes. We were thinking that evening."

"Who?" I asked.

"Me, Miranda, Kasey, and Meg, plus maybe one or two other girls we hang out with."

"So that kind of party?" I asked.

Ellie laughed, "What did you expect?!"

"Point taken," I chuckled. "I don't see why not. You guys are all invited here for Memorial Day."

"Bianca let us know, and I'm pretty sure we'll all be here."

Jack returned, and the three of us left the house, got into my car, and headed into the city. We dropped Ellie at Loyola along the way, and when I arrived at the office, I performed my usual morning routine of making a fresh pot of coffee, getting an update on overnight trading from Rich, and then starting work on my analyst report.

It would be a very busy two weeks as Tony was on his 'sensitive leave', so he'd be out of the office for two weeks. That meant that Joel and I would have to cover his research as well, though not as in-depth. That wasn't a serious problem, as Mr. Matheson would receive the analyst reports from other teams, though those would not have the same narrow focus of stocks impacted in significant ways by FX events.

I turned in my morning report before Mr. Matheson arrived, as usual, and left a note saying I wanted to speak to him. About ten minutes after he came into the office, Mia called to let me know he could see me.

"What's up, Kane?"

"I've run into some severe limitations of VisiCalc," I said. "I can do a very rudimentary analysis, but to do a proper analysis, I'd need a custom program. The other limitation is I don't have intraday pricing, and I had a chat with Phil about that. I can get strike prices for trades we've made, but there is no easy way to get intraday numbers."

"Bottom line?" he asked.

"By the end of the week, I'll be able to tell you, roughly, if perfect execution based on opening and closing prices could generate the massive beat he claims to have put on the S&P 500 is theoretically possible with perfect knowledge."

"Nobody has perfect knowledge, or we'd all be on a tropical beach drinking some kind of fruit drink with rum in it!"

"Exactly. But the point is, if, with perfect knowledge, you can't do it, then it's not possible. If, with perfect knowledge, you could do it, then it's possible, even if it's not probable. I'll look at the index, of course, but I'm also going to look at if it could be done with baskets of individual shares. The problem with that is that I don't know what shares he might have traded, so I'm going to look at the biggest movers during the month, both in terms of volume and price. But that's a TON of work, and VisiCalc is fairly slow. It might take an hour to generate one scenario, if not longer."

"Bottom line?" he asked again.

"I believe we need to hire someone who can write customized data analytics programs."

"That would be Phil's department, so you'd need to talk to Jack Nelson."

"Actually, I think you should hire the person for your team. Call them an analyst, if that's necessary, but have them take over the spreadsheet work, along with the other computer stuff I'm doing. I'm not an expert by any means, and my housemate, who's just finishing her Sophomore year, is light years ahead of me."

"This is the one who helped you with the spreadsheet?"

"Yes. She had a number of good ideas and suggestions and knows which programs she'd need to do a proper job. I'll point out that simply analyzing the possible Madoff trades is going to take all my time this week, except for the time I spend on my morning reports, which is longer than usual because Tony is out."

"It's an interesting idea, and I do want you to focus on your analysis, though the computers clearly help you in that regard."

"They do, but as a user, not a programmer. I can come up with the ideas, but I need someone to help me put them into action, and that means someone with the right skills. Heck, my housemate could do it after just two years of study."

"Think she'd be interested?"

"I have no idea. I can broach the topic of working and going to class in the evenings the way I am. I will talk to her about the necessary skills for the job, no matter what."

"I do have four open requisitions I can fill anytime this calendar year, and you've shown me what we can do with computers, even on a small scale."

"And that's how Madoff became one of the largest clearing firms on Wall Street -- computerizing OTC trades from the Pink Sheets to NASDAQ."

"A good point. Write it up and get it to me."

"Will do. Now, I'm going to go work on the spreadsheet. Out of curiosity, could we get a list of all of Madoff's trades?"

"That wouldn't be representative because he clears his own trades from his investment advisory company through his own clearing firm. And you know his trading volume."

"Which is only going to increase if we clear through him."

"Which we will, given his pricing structure is so much better. The other part of the business will depend on your analysis."

"Just off the cuff, I don't buy it."

"Neither do I, and Noel is highly skeptical, but we need to know if we're missing something because as smart as we are, there might be someone smarter, and a guy with a track record like Madoff's might just be that guy."

"I'll get to work!"

I left his office, grabbed the floppy disks, and took them to Phil to convert them from Apple II format to IBM PC format. He had them back to me within an hour, which allowed me to get to work on the analysis. That kept me busy for most of the day, and by the time I had to leave for class, I'd identified the equities with the largest daily and monthly price moves, as well as the ones with the highest and lowest volume. Those would be the ones I'd analyze individually to see if perfect trading could generate the kinds of returns being claimed with high enough order flow to cover his costs and make a profit.

As was usual for nights when I had class, I left work and headed to Violet's for dinner. She greeted me with a tight hug, a significant change after our weekend conversation, and we had a nice dinner. After dinner, I headed to class, chatted briefly with Teri, and after class, joined Violet for coffee and pie. After our dessert, I walked her home, received another tight hug, then drove back to Rogers Park.

"Bev called," Shelly said when I walked into the house. "She said to call back any time before 10:30pm."

"Thanks," I replied.

I went upstairs, changed out of my suit into shorts and a T-shirt, then used the extension in my room to call Bev.

"How did it go?" I asked after we greeted each other.

"Great!" Bev exclaimed. "Heather likes Glen, and we had a good talk."

"And?"

"He's going to visit again over Memorial Day weekend."

"Bring him to the party," I said.

"I'm not sure he'll be comfortable with that," Bev countered.

"Because of my mom?"

"Obviously."

"I won't bring it up, and I'm not upset with him, nor do I think he did anything wrong if what you've said is true, and I believe it is."

"I'm pretty sure your mom disagrees."

"I know my mom disagrees, but you were over sixteen, and by your own admission, you seduced him. You weren't in any of his classes at the time, so the most I could say is that he might have exercised poor judgment, but only from the perspective that he risked getting into trouble with the school district. You know I don't have a problem with whom you've been with. So tell Glen it's cool, and I'm OK with it. Well, with one condition -- he has to treat you and Heather properly, or he'll answer to ME."

Bev laughed, "I'll tell him."

"Is this going the direction I think it's going?"

"Maybe," Bev replied. "That's part of why he's coming back. Obviously, he wants to see Heather, too."

"And?"

"You're so bad, Jonny! No, we didn't sleep together!"

"But you see that happening, don't you?"

"He might be staying with me Memorial Day weekend."

"Might?" I chuckled.

"I asked, and he said he'd think about it. I suspect he wants to talk to your mom first."

"I suspect so. He did tell her he was coming to see Heather, and I have to say he's been a stand-up guy the entire way. He's never misled or deceived my mom and went to her right away when it was obvious Heather was his daughter."

"He's a really great guy," Bev said. "Really great."

"I'm happy for you, and I hope things work out the way you want them to. It dawned on me to ask if you have the clothes you need for next week."

"I do need to buy some skirts and blouses and a new pair of shoes. I'll do that on Saturday."

"Do you need money?" I asked. "I don't want you to be caught short."

"Glen brought this month's child support check with him, so I'm fine. I'll receive my first paycheck at the end of the month, and I'll be OK until then."

"Remember, I'll help in any way I can."

"I know, Jonny, and that's one reason I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Bev. I'll call later in the week to check on you."

"Thanks!"

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, then went to find Bianca, who was in the great room with Kristy and Jack. I asked her to speak privately, and we went to the front room.

"I have a question and a proposal," I said.

"Yes!" Bianca exclaimed.

"Not that kind of proposal!" I said with a goofy smile.

"Oh," she replied flatly.

"I appreciate you mimicking my sense of humor," I said with a smile. "What I need is a list of skills for an analyst who would be able to do the kind of programming you and I discussed over the weekend."

"Spurgeon is going to hire someone?"

"I sure as heck don't have the skills to do it, and I don't want to change my focus from investing to computers. Basically, it would be an analyst position similar to mine but focused on data analytics. The person would work on the FX team with me."

"Honestly, anyone with good programming skills and a knowledge of statistics could do it. Knowledge of the programs I mentioned would be a big help, and I guess an understanding of the stock market."

"You?" I asked.

"Someone like me, sure. Wait! Do you actually mean me?"

"Are you interested in a full-time job and working on your degree at night?"

"This job would pay similar to yours?"

"I suspect so, given it would be an analyst job, but I can't say for sure."

"For that kind of money, I'd drop out!"

"Don't do that," I replied. "I think having a degree can be valuable."

"Not as much in computers as you might think. I've already heard from recruiters who are willing to hire anyone with experience and skills, and I learned computers in High School. The recruiter I spoke to is trying to fill spots at Prime Computer and Digital Equipment Corporation in Boston, as well as Apple Computer in California, plus other places. No degree required for the right candidate."

"Interesting. Create a résumé, please. I'll hand it in with the proposal to hire someone."

"If this happens, I'd say losing my virginity to you was the best decision I ever made in my life! Not that I think it was bad in any way, just that, well, what's happened since is almost unbelievable. I'll get you something by tomorrow morning. It's Keiko's night, or I'd show you how grateful I was!"

"Don't count your chickens, but it is a real possibility."

"Unreal!"

She gave me a quick kiss, and I went upstairs to find Keiko, who was lying in her bed reading a textbook.

"Hey," I said. "How are you?"

"Tired, but not as much as I was last week."

"So the pills are working?"

"They seem to be, but they're just addressing the symptoms. I did speak to my gynecologist today, on the advice of the nurse, and she said it might be associated with my period, though she wants to see the blood test results."

"My knowledge in that area is limited," I said.

Keiko laughed, "Because you're a guy! But given it's losing blood, I think you can see how it might affect blood chemistry."

"I suppose, though, I'd need more information than they provided in eighth grade to understand it! Are you sleeping with me?"

"Yes, of course! And we can make love, too."

She closed her book, got up from her bed, and followed me to my room, where we did indeed make love before falling asleep and snuggling close together.

May 10, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Thomas Hart and I met for lunch at the restaurant on the upper floors of the Hancock Center. I had permission from Murray Matheson to expense the lunch, though I'd have gladly paid out of my own pocket for the opportunity to give my pitch. If I could land the Hart-Lincoln pension fund and some of their attorneys, and the Overland Park, Kansas police pension fund, I'd be well on the way to becoming a Portfolio Manager and effectively doubling my income.

"Tell me why I should trust my firm's money to a twenty-year-old who worked in the mailroom until January of this year?"

"That's a perfectly valid question, and I think my track record speaks for itself. As you know, SEC regulations prevent me from promising that past performance guarantees future returns, but Spurgeon Capital has a long track record of never losing money, even in down markets.

"As for me personally, Noel Spurgeon entrusted $5 million of his own money to my management, and I have my own money in the fund I'm managing. I also manage a multi-million-dollar trust, and those results are similar to the main fund, though there are some restrictions on what I can do with that per the trust documents. And, besides you and your firm, I'm speaking with a police department in the Great Plains about managing their pension fund.

"What I bring to the table is a mix of detailed, traditional analysis and a new field called 'data analytics', which means using computers to evaluate investment strategies, testing them on past data, and using them to predict future market movement. Those computer models are an innovation in the industry and give me an edge.

"As you can see from the prospectus, I correctly predicted the Bolivar currency crisis and the fall in gold and silver prices. Both of those were developed using a mix of research and data analytics. Spurgeon is leading the wave with this technology, and that gives us an edge you won't find elsewhere.

"That edge, combined with my commitment to honesty, integrity, and clear communication, as well as my commitment to always take your calls and always be available to meet, means you won't find a better manager for your investments in Chicago than Spurgeon Capital, and I'd put us up against the best firms in New York as well."

"A good opening statement!" Mr. Hart said. "Let's see how it holds up under examination! I'd like to hear how you advanced so quickly, please."

I described, in outline form, everything that had happened from the time I first asked my uncle for help finding an entry-level job through my promotion to analyst. Mr. Hart asked a few questions but largely allowed me to complete my narrative uninterrupted.

"An interesting story," he observed. "Your references to Andrew Carnegie and J. D. Rockefeller make me wonder how you compare yourself to them?"

"Origin stories, really," I replied. "Noel Spurgeon inherited fairly significant wealth, whereas I started with what the biographies of those men called a 'hardscrabble' existence. In my mind, and with no disrespect to Mr. Spurgeon, that drives me to work harder and to find opportunities to improve my situation, similar to what happened to those men I mentioned. I'll point out that one of the biggest clearing firms on Wall Street was started by a guy who earned his stake working as a lifeguard. I don't see much difference between lifeguard and mailroom, at least in terms of level of work."

"What firm is that?"

"Bernard L. Madoff Investment Securities. In addition to being broker-dealers, they provide market-making and trading services for OTC -- Over The Counter -- stocks. I'm sure you've heard of NASDAQ, and Madoff was instrumental in bringing that computer system online. That's one of the things that encouraged me to look into using computers for analysis, not just trading."

"If we were to do this, we'd want all of our partners and associates to be able to invest in your fund."

I nodded, "If you were to bring your pension fund to Spurgeon, we'll waive the minimum investment requirements for the Cincinnatus Fund and charge you 'one and ten' on the individual accounts."

"Run how that works by me again."

"The first number, either one or two percent, is the annual management fee. That covers all administrative, trading, and other costs. That fee is charged no matter what. The second number, either ten or twenty, is the percentage of the gains we earn for you above the hurdle rate. What that means is that the first 8% of all gains are yours. After that, we take 20%, and you retain 80% in your retirement fund.

"To give you a concrete example, let's say you have $100,000 invested. That means you would be charged $2000 a year by Spurgeon to manage the fund, no matter how well or how poorly the fund performs. That money is deducted from your investment, beginning with the initial investment.

"As for the 20%, with a hurdle of 8%, 20% of the annual gains in excess of 8%, after the fund is 'marked to market', that is, the value is calculated at the closing price on a fixed date, are retained by Spurgeon. If we can't 'beat the hurdle', as it's called, we make no additional profit.

"Putting real numbers behind it, if we use Spurgeon's annualized return last year across all funds of 32%, if you invested $100,000, the value of your investment at the end of the year would be about $131,500, after allowing for the initial 2% management fee. Of the $31,500 gain, the first $7800 or so is yours, free and clear. Of the remaining $23,500 gain, about $4700 would be retained by Spurgeon, yielding around $19,000 in gains, for a net total gain of $26,000, or about 26% on your initial investment. That's about double the return you'd earn in a Dow or S&P fund, assuming typical annualized returns.

"All of that is explained in the prospectus, though it's in legal and financial terms, and unfortunately, our prospectus doesn't provide a clear example. I'm going to change that to include an example such as the one I just gave you, though, as always, I have to caution you that it's not guaranteed, and it is possible to lose some, or even all, of your investment. Of course, that's true no matter who manages your investments, including if you do it yourself."

"I'm well versed in legalese, as you can imagine, but not so much on the investment side. A concrete example would be very helpful."

"I can prepare a spreadsheet with several examples for you and send it over this afternoon. Is there anything else you need from me to make a decision?"

"No, I think with the examples, I'll have what I need. I understand from Nelson Boyd that he's in your fund."

"I'm permitted a small number of 'friends and family' investors for whom the minimum is waived. Nelson is part of a core group of friends put together by Jeri Lundgren."

"The heiress to the Lundgren Foundation and her mother's fortune?"

"That's the one," I replied.

"She's a teenager, right?"

"Seventeen, but she has her act together, for sure. I met her through my cousin, whose dad is the uncle who got me in the door at Spurgeon. I believe they met through Nelson's dad."

"He runs a large charity that receives funding from the Lundgren Foundation."

"How long will you need to make a decision?" I asked.

"Give me two weeks because I'll need a vote of the partnership to make a change like this."

"I'll make a note to follow up two weeks from Friday," I said. "And as promised, I'll send over the concrete examples this afternoon."

We shook hands, I paid for the meal with my Amex card, and we left the restaurant. For me, it was simply a trip to 29, and when I walked into the office, I went straight in to speak to Mr. Matheson after getting permssion from Mia.

"It went well," I said in response to his query.

"When?"

"By the end of the month. I'd put a 75% confidence factor on it."

"Coming from you, that's an ironclad guarantee!"

"Not quite, but I am confident."

"And you made the required disclosures?"

"Besides the prominent one on the prospectus, I put it in the letter I wrote him and stated it verbally. When they sign, I'll use a separate disclosure document so there's no confusion. It's a bunch of attorneys, so I don't want to leave ANY wiggle room!"

"A bunch of assholes is a better term. Lawyers are the bane of the earth! The only useful purpose they serve is to protect you from other members of their own profession!"

"Criminal defense?" I asked.

"A service I will never, ever need. You can take that to the bank!"

XLVI. What's Wrong?

May 10, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

After work on Tuesday, I picked up Jeri at home and took her to Morton's The Steakhouse, where I'd made reservations. We'd been there before, and it fit a proper business dinner. With my suit on, I could easily have ordered a drink, but Jeri, despite being dressed in a nice skirt and blouse, was so clearly under twenty-one that there was no way she'd be served.

"Do you have an agenda for the evening?" I asked once we'd placed our orders.

"Is that a serious question?" Jeri asked with a soft laugh. "I always have an agenda!"

"True! But I meant in terms of something specific you wanted to discuss."

"I'm going to use my once-per-get-together 'Get Out of Jail Free!' card! I'd like to discuss what it will take to get you into bed!"

"Noted," I replied.

"Interesting," Jeri replied, looking slightly surprised. "Not a blunt 'no'?"

"That was a simple acknowledgment of your request to discuss it without discussing it!"

Jeri rolled her eyes, "You are ridiculously pedantic and scrupulous! On a serious note, we're friends, and I wanted to hang out with you, just the two of us. Do I need an 'agenda'? I mean, besides the obvious one?"

"Wanting to hang out is an agenda," I replied.

"Oh, for Pete's sake!" Jeri exclaimed. "You can be impossible!"

"You say that as if it's a bad thing!" I chuckled.

"I have no idea why I put up with you!"

"Oh, yes, you do!" I countered. "First and most importantly, we can make money together. Second, you do want to go to bed with me again, and you're hoping I'll say 'yes' eventually."

"That might be true," Jeri said with a smile.

"And I might be from Goshen, Ohio!" I retorted.

The waiter brought our salads, briefly interrupting our conversation, but it resumed once he walked away.

"Well," Jeri said with a smile, "given you brought it up, the 'one-time' limit is out the window!"

"Let's have dinner and discuss it over dessert, OK?"

"Or you can have me for dessert!"

"How is school?" I asked with a smile.

"Straight A's, of course. I scheduled the ACT and SAT for August, and I'll apply to UofC, IIT, and Northwestern. I want to go to UofC, and I should get in, but I want to have backups."

"Computers?"

"Yes, though I'll apply and list a business major, then after I'm accepted, switch."

"Subterfuge to keep your mom from interfering?"

"Yes. There isn't really anything she'll be able to do to stop it at that point."

"Are you going to live at home?"

"You know the trust restrictions. I'll agree to a business minor and tell her how important computers will be, and that will keep things on simmer until I start interviewing during my last year at UofC."

"Knowing your mom, don't you think she'll find a way to interfere?"

"Oh, she'll try, but I just need to find someone who has the balls and power to stand up to her. And if necessary, I'll find a way to take down the entire Foundation and her with it."

"What about interviewing with a firm in the San Francisco Bay Area? What they're calling Silicon Valley? Or the Route 128 Corridor near Boston?"

"I like Chicago and want to stay here. And I'm not going to let my mom chase me away. But if she wants to fight, I'll fight."

"Remind me to stay out of the line of fire!"

Jeri smiled, "As smart as you are, I'd need someone with serious connections and serious money who would be willing to go up against her. I'll find someone; I know enough people who don't like her. How is school going for you?"

"I'll earn an A in my math class. I'm not taking a class over the Summer, but in the Fall, I'll take a statistics class."

"Why not during the Summer?"

"Initially, it was because I wanted more free time, but the decision was ultimately made because I'm going to Saint Martin for eight days, which would mean missing too many classes."

"Noel Spurgeon's house?"

"Yes. Thanks to you, I brought in the most new business for a junior staff member without actually being a junior staff member."

"And you didn't invite me?" Jeri asked with mock outrage.

"And what would your mom say about that? She isn't exactly campaigning to be President of the Jonathan Kane Fan Club!"

"Even asking about it would piss her off. Who are you taking?"

"My female housemates, minus Shelly, who got engaged, and Kristy, who is engaged to Jack."

Jeri laughed, "That must have Noel Spurgeon fit to be tied! You and three girls!"

"Five, actually. The new housemates are going along as well."

"New?"

"Shelly is moving out. She's moving in with Perry, who's graduating medical school in a few weeks, and they're getting married. A friend of Deanna's from Milford, Ohio, which is close to where I grew up, is moving in, and Bianca asked Juliette to room with her."

"Spurgeon and Matheson must be positively green with envy!"

"Whatever! They can get their own girls! Have you been to the house in Saint Martin?"

"Once, with my parents about five years ago. Next year, after I graduate from High School, I'm going to Monaco for two weeks."

"Noel Spurgeon's place?"

"No. My dad's family has an apartment there. My dad's parents stay there in the Summer, and I'll stay with them. Someday, that'll be you with places in Saint Martin, Monaco, Lucerne, or wherever."

"I'll worry about that in the future. Right now, my focus is on being an analyst and trying to bring in new business. My goal is to make Portfolio Manager in two years and have Spurgeon sponsor me for a Series 30 license. That's the one that would let me supervise other brokers."

"Which is your parachute, if and when you need it."

"Yes. But as I said to someone else, so long as nobody messes with me, I'm going to stay, learn, and make money."

"What do you need to walk away?"

"To be comfortable doing so? A hundred mill I can take with me. I have around ten, but that includes five mill Spurgeon gave me to manage. I'm working on some other deals, but everything takes time. Really, though, I'm ahead of the game by at least two years from what I had planned. You're a big part of that."

Jeri smiled, "Thanks. What else is going on?"

"Not much, really. Work, school, and hanging out with friends. You?"

"School, friends, and romance novels."

I shook my head, "I still don't understand the attraction."

Jeri laughed, "As I said, it's my guilty pleasure! A girl can have fantasies, can't she?"

"I suppose, but mindless?"

"How clearly do YOU think during sex?"

"Not very," I chuckled.

The waiter came and cleared our empty salad dishes away, then brought our main courses. Jeri and I began eating and continued the conversation.

"Do you have friends outside your mom's social circles?" I asked.

"A few girls at Maria who I hang out with occasionally. I've mostly avoided Lisa because she's pissed at me about being involved with you."

"How much does she know?"

"Not that," Jeri said. "Even talking to you was enough to piss her off. And when she found out I'd given you my trust fund to manage, that really set her off."

"I never really understood why she's such a bitch to me."

"Easy. She knew she couldn't manipulate you. Other than her dad, who she has wrapped around her little finger, you're the one male on the planet over age thirteen she couldn't manipulate with sex or the offer of sex."

"She's fourteen!"

"And? Girls have sex at fourteen. I know a girl who willingly and enthusiastically had sex at thirteen. But you, being Lisa's cousin, she knew that couldn't ever happen."

"Not that I'd even consider it, but I believe cousins can marry in Ohio."

"Same in Illinois, but I think she correctly deduced you wouldn't be interested."

"At twelve? Seriously? That's wrong on so many levels! And I mean, even if the guy is fifteen or sixteen."

"Late thirties for the thirteen-year-old," Jeri said. "Someone you know, but I won't name names."

"Sick. Whoever it is ought to be turned in to the cops."

"I know you believe that, but she got exactly what she wanted, enjoyed it, and kept doing it."

"I still say it's sick. But let's drop that discussion, please."

"Sorry."

"It's OK. Back to your novels. What's the last one you've read?"

"My Lord Kasseem, which is about a girl who falls for a sheikh. The next one is Reluctant Paragon, about a widowed woman who was a 'paragon of virtue' after her husband's death but is tempted by her boss."

"I had you pegged for the 'blushing virgin' type story."

"Right, because I blushed that first night we were together!"

"I meant in terms of fantasy!"

"Shall I tell you my fantasy?" Jeri asked with an inviting smile.

"When we finish eating, please."

We chit-chatted amiably while we finished eating, and after the busboy cleared our plates, the waiter brought the dessert menu.

"We're done with dinner. What are you having for dessert?"

"Something on the menu," I replied.

"Great!" Jeri exclaimed as she slipped the menu under her butt.

I couldn't help but laugh hard.

"A's for effort and creativity," I said after about twenty seconds of laughter.

"Does that mean you'll eat me?" she asked invitingly.

"I have to be at work at 7:00am tomorrow, and I don't have a change of clothes. I'd also need to let Jack know because we drive in together."

"Call Jack from my house. Karolin will launder your shirt, underwear, and socks and iron your shirt. Karl will steam and press your slacks, jacket, and tie."

"You're joking!"

"You have a lot to learn about what you can do if you have enough money!"

"Obviously."

"Any other objections? I am on the menu, after all!"

"You are," I admitted.

"And you did give me A's for effort and creativity."

"I did. But nothing else has changed."

"I disagree," Jeri replied. "I admit freely I have no power over you and won't try to manipulate you. We're partners."

"That's a refreshing change of attitude. What brought that on?"

"When I finally admitted to myself that I was unable to manipulate you."

"What's your fantasy?" I asked.

"Take me home, take me around the world twice, sleep, wake up and take me around the world again."

"I'm not sure there's enough time to sleep if we're going to do that!"

"Then save that for another time, take me home, have amazing sex until midnight, sleep, wake up at 5:00am, and have more amazing sex."

"Another time?"

"A casual, occasional thing. I ask, no pressure, you say 'yes' or 'no', and I accept your answer. If you ask, I'll say 'yes' and do anything you want, any way you want, anywhere you want. Obviously, if you have a steady girlfriend, I won't ask because I know how you feel about that."

"Out of curiosity, how do you feel about that?"

"It's a complex question," Jeri replied. "Because you know my views on sex."

"That it's transactional and a tool and is simply one more way of conducting business."

"Yes, and as I said, I have no desire to transact with anyone else in the near term."

"So, if this isn't manipulation and isn't necessary to seal a business deal..."

Jeri laughed softly, "I'm horny, and I want you to come back to my house and have amazing sex!"

"Your mom will have a fit," I replied.

"She and my dad are in San Francisco raising money for the Foundation and meeting with California-based charities she supports."

"Which gave you the freedom to try to get me into bed."

"Have I tried to manipulate you?" Jeri asked with a smile.

"No, you haven't," I admitted.

"And you enjoyed having sex with me."

"I did."

"Then come home with me and plow my field!"

I laughed, "Only if you promise no more romance novel idioms!'

She leaned forward and spoke quietly and urgently, "Come home with me and fuck my brains out!"

The waiter appeared back at the table just then.

"Have we decided?" he asked.

I considered my options, then said, "Just the check, please."

May 11, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

When Jeri and I got out of bed on Wednesday morning, having had amazing sex both before and after we'd slept, we showered together. After our showers, we went down to the kitchen to have breakfast, which Karolin had prepared. While we were eating, Karl came into the kitchen.

"Master Jonathan, your suit has been steamed and pressed, your shoes shined, your shirt laundered and ironed, and your other things laundered. I've laid them out on the bed in the guest room across the hall from Miss Jeri's bedroom."

"Thank you," I replied.

When Jeri and I finished eating, I thanked Karolin, and Jeri and I went back upstairs and into the guest room where my clothes were laid out.

"Do you realize how crazy this is?" I asked.

Jeri smiled, "As I said, you have a lot to learn about what you can do with enough money!"

"It just feels like too much."

I doffed my robe, and Jeri looked me up and down approvingly. I took my freshly laundered briefs from the small pile and stepped into them, then continued dressing while Jeri spoke.

"Because you're used to doing literally everything for yourself," she said. "One of the most important lessons to learn is to do the things you're very good at and let others do the things they're good at. That frees you to focus on the important things. Don't reject the idea simply because it offends your sense of nobility or whatever. There is no nobility in poverty. And you know what? You agree with me on that."

"I do, at least to a point," I said. "I think it can also be excessive. I don't begrudge your family, or Matheson, or Spurgeon, the enjoyment of their wealth, so long as they aren't abusing anyone to earn it and pay reasonable taxes. That said, in their positions, I'd probably give more to charity and spend more to help my friends than they do."

"One thing you'll discover is that as soon as you have significant wealth, people will hound you to gain access to it. You have a serious advantage in that you can manage your own money and don't need any financial advisors except with regard to taxes, which anyone with wealth needs. But the charities will come knocking, friends and family will show up out of the woodwork, and people you don't know will beg you for money. That happens to my parents and to Spurgeon."

"And your mom is one of those begging for money!" I chuckled.

"Someday, she'll ask you, but I'd strongly advise not giving her a dime. May I make an observation?"

"I believe that's part of our deal, isn't it?"

"Perhaps I want to alter the deal!" Jeri said, lowering her voice.

"Darth Lundgren?" I asked.

"In January, I'll be eighteen, and we could become THE Chicago power couple. Your financial acumen and my contacts would allow us to wield influence in Chicago and nationally. And what we did last night and again this morning would be a major plus for both of us. And before you object, I'll point out that your view on marriage fits mine exactly -- a contract entered into for mutual gain. It's not about love, so why not find a partner who not only will please you in the bedroom, but provide significant financial resources?"

"Did you just propose to me?" I asked as I picked up my tie and moved to stand in front of the mirror to tie it.

"Duh!" Jeri replied. "Think about our combined resources, including the trust fund, my contacts, and this!"

She dropped her robe, showing off her sexy body.

I chuckled, "I can have that without getting married! In fact, I had it three times last night and once this morning!"

"And a blowjob last night, too!" Jeri added. "But it is an added attraction, so to speak."

"It is, and your offer is interesting," I replied. "But, well, OK, to be blunt?"

"Yes."

"You only promised not to try to manipulate me. And no, standing there naked or offering sex is not manipulation, per se, because it's about attitude. And it's not manipulative to express what you desire or express a vision of the future. That said, I don't think you could keep a promise to never try to manipulate anyone ever again."

"And you don't think you manipulate people?"

"I think it comes down to motivations. Your motivation is to win at all costs, consequences be damned. My motivation is to always seek out a 'win-win' scenario. And before you object to securities and currency trading as not being 'win-win', nothing I do, or would ever do, compels the counterparty to buy or sell. I make an offer, and it's accepted or not, and most often, I don't even know the counterparty except in the case of very large block trades."

"OK to be blunt?" Jeri asked.

"Always," I agreed.

"You're naïve if you think you can succeed without a desire to win."

"Ah, but I do have a desire to win, just not at all costs. That's the fundamental difference between us. I don't believe in 'scorched earth' strategies."

"And you can't make an omelette without breaking eggs. But, to keep my word to you, I've asked, you've said 'no', and I accept that. On the other hand, you've heard my proposal, and if you ask, I'll say 'yes'. Just as I promised about sex."

"It is something to think about," I replied. "But not something you should expect."

"I totally understand. The same goes for my fantasy!"

"What's the attraction?" I asked.

"You mean anal sex?"

"Yes."

"Violating that taboo excited me, and it still does. I can't explain it beyond that. And now that I've revealed my fantasy, the ball is in your court."

"A cynical person might see your behavior as manipulative, albeit using different tactics. Playing the submissive, compliant girl to achieve your ultimate goal. And that actually tracks with what you said about the different personae you show to different people or groups. But I'm taking you at your word that it's not intended to be manipulative."

"You think it might be an act?"

"The thought did cross my mind," I replied. "I can only judge you on your actions and your words because I can't read your mind. You're doing and saying the right things, but that doesn't tell me what you're actually thinking. In the end, I have to judge if you're being honest or not, and I believe you are."

"But you have doubts."

"Yes, because of past behavior and what you've said about your philosophy about business and relationships. I'm positive we can do business together, so long as it's on my terms. I don't think a marriage would work. I'm not ruling it out, but as I said, it's not something you should count on or expect."

"Thank you for being brutally honest."

"I find it to be the only reasonable course of action. Don't you find it strange to be standing there naked while I'm dressed in my suit and tie?"

"Not at all! Powerful, successful, good-looking men turn me on. I know you have to leave for work in a few minutes, but next time, I'll strip naked, you stay fully clothed, and I'll pull down the zipper of your pants and give you an amazing blowjob."

I checked my watch and smirked, "I do have ten minutes..."

"Kind of fast, but I'm game!" Jeri declared.

Jeri walked over, knelt down, unzipped my pants, and maneuvered my rapidly hardening shaft from my briefs. She took my glans into her mouth, put her hands on my butt, and began sucking, bobbing, and swirling her tongue. I was able to watch in the mirror, and the stark contrast between me in my expensive suit and Jeri naked before me was surprisingly erotic.

Jeri's warm mouth and talented tongue beat the clock by about a minute as I groaned deeply and fired jets of cum into her mouth. She continued bobbing, sucking, and licking until she was sure I was done, then released me. She tucked me back into my briefs, zipped my pants, then stood up for a deep French kiss.

"That was surprisingly erotic," I said when she broke the kiss.

"For me, too!" Jeri exclaimed.

I went to the en suite bath and used mouthwash, then returned to the bedroom. Jeri put on her robe and walked me to the back door, as I'd parked in the alley behind her house.

"After school is out, let me know when your parents will be away, and I'll fulfill your fantasy."

Jeri smiled, kissed me, and I left the house to drive to the office.

As usual, I made a fresh pot of coffee, checked with Rich on overnights, then began my morning work. The first thing I did was check the London spot gold and silver prices and put them into my spreadsheet. I pressed 'calculate', and a few seconds later, the indicator field switched from yellow to green. That meant it was time to make the move.

I could place the orders myself via my trading terminal, but I wanted immediate execution, and the trades I was making were over my limit on the trading system and would need approval. Strangely, if I called one of the two executing brokers, I could trade five times as much without needing further approval. I could also go through Rich, but he'd likely wait for Murray Matheson's approval.

Given that, I picked up the phone and called Mr. Steinem and placed orders for covered puts, in the expectation that the price was going to drop sometime in the next few weeks, or at most, sixty days. If the price rose, I'd exercise the calls to cover the puts; if the price dropped, I'd let the call options expire and buy at market.

I took a position triple what I had the first time, and if prices fell as I expected them to, I'd earn around $250,000 for the Cincinnatus fund, though more than half of that would go to Noel Spurgeon, as his $5 million was the bulk of my current assets, not counting Jeri's trust fund. I took a smaller position in Jeri's trust fund, as the trust guidelines limited how much exposure it could have through options trading.

"How sure are you?" Mr. Steinem asked.

"I am not uncertain," I replied.

That was my euphemism, 'this should be a lock', but without saying so, as I didn't want to make a guarantee to anyone internal any more than I would, or could, to a client.

"Got it," he said. "I'll expect orders from Matheson shortly."

"You should. Exercise mine now, please. His orders will move the market."

"You got it! You know you can enter these orders yourself, right?"

"Yes, but then they'd be flagged for approval, and it would delay them, and the floor trader might wait to lump them into the bigger trade he knew was coming."

"Front-running your boss?" Mr. Steinem asked jovially.

"It's my trade, and he's piggybacking!" I countered, equally jovially.

Mr. Steinem laughed, "The orders are in...and executed. You should see them on your terminal."

I pulled up the correct mainframe screen on my IBM PC/XT, pressed a few keys, and saw that the trades had been executed, along with the strike prices.

"I see them. Thanks!"

We ended the call, I completed my morning report, added a single page detailing the positions I'd taken for my fund, and left it on his desk. Unsurprisingly, he called me into his office about twenty seconds after he walked in.

"How sure are you, Kane?"

"I am not uncertain! As you can see, I hedged by covering my puts, so my downside is limited. I leave money on the table but limit my losses to about twenty grand if the price doesn't fall by the end of July. I only need a 4% downward movement to be in the money after the cost of the options. I assume you're considering naked puts?"

"I need the extra few points to make up for last month's shitty performance."

"Only at Spurgeon would beating the market by three points be called 'shitty performance'! I think naked puts are risky, but I don't see a lot of upside to gold and silver prices, and the spreads and volatility indicate a drop. Not to mention your block trade WILL move the market, and London and Singapore will follow, meaning you could cash out as soon as Friday or Monday if you wanted to and be in the money."

"You used July delivery puts and July calls. Could I stretch that to December?"

"You could, but that's an awfully long ride. I intend to close out my positions if gold hits $415 an ounce, which would provide about an 8% return. My rough price prediction for the end of the year ranges from $350 to $420, but all it would take is some major terrorist attack or major natural disaster or war to drive the price up almost instantly. December would be a gutsy call, and if the price hit $390, I'd close out any positions. That would return about 15%."

"Conservative."

"Hedging my bets," I replied. "We are, after all, running hedge funds!"

"Smart ass! But I have more to lose and more to gain, so I'm going to take the longer contracts and see if I can squeeze out those extra few points."

"Decembers are about a point cheaper than Julys, so you get a point right there, in exchange for larger risk. Covered or naked?"

"Naked. I can ride it out, and what matters in the end are the annual returns. This way, I have until December 31 to pump up the profits."

"Makes sense."

"Thanks, Kane. Get back to work!"

"Will do!"

The rest of the day was mostly routine, though I did spend two hours working on my analysis of the 'split-strike' model and finding that with perfect knowledge, it might be possible to replicate some of the gains, but that would mean knowing exactly when the S&P 500 index would move up and down. As for doing it with individual stocks, it was certainly possible because some of them moved enough to show the kinds of gains reported, assuming a narrow, unbalanced portfolio based on that perfect knowledge.

But that wasn't the claim. The claim was about the S&P 500 index. In my analysis, which I would continue to revise for the rest of the week, it might be possible in the short, or even medium term, to show those kinds of gains, but not in the long run. It would be possible with insider trading, but the kind of scale necessary to know how the entire S&P 500 index would move was truly staggering and was both unlikely to occur and very likely to be detected if it did.

That left Madoff being the luckiest man on Wall Street, or he was providing inaccurate information about his gains. What I needed were actual trading ledgers, but there was literally no chance I'd ever see those, and without them, I couldn't actually verify the claims. Something was fishy, but I couldn't say exactly what. What I felt I could say, and would on Friday, was that things did not add up.

Just before 5:00pm, I put away all my notes, locked my desk, shut down my computer, then left the office to drive to Violet's house for dinner. We had our usual nice meal, went to class, and had coffee and pie at the diner while we worked on our homework. When we finished, I walked her home, then drove to my house in Rogers Park.

I changed, and when I went downstairs, Bianca handed me a résumé and a proposed set of skills for the analyst/programmer role. I put them with my things, then joined my housemates to watch the evening news. I did ask if Keiko had received her test results, but her doctor hadn't called with them, though she expected them by the end of the week.

"How is your project going?" I asked Deanna when we went up to my room, following the sports report.

"I'll have what I need to hand in on Friday," she said. "It's really draining because it's so far outside my usual style. But it's part of the curriculum, so I have to do it."

"If you're tired, we can just sleep," I offered.

"Fucking is the best solution to three days of almost no sleep and constant stress! It'll help me relax so I can sleep!"

May 12, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

We'd had a single vigorous fuck, with Deanna falling asleep only seconds after we finished, and she hadn't stirred when I'd gotten out of bed to shower on Thursday morning. She was still asleep when I finished dressing, so I didn't bother her and went downstairs to have breakfast with Jack.

"I didn't realize you and Jeri were involved that way," he said as I pulled out of the driveway into the alley.

"Occasionally," I replied.

"I'd suggest more than that with an heiress, but I think you'll make a big enough pile of your own that you don't need to marry for money!"

"Honestly, that's as good a reason as any other, so long as you're compatible and have a shared vision of the future. That said, Jeri and I will do business together, but I couldn't really see being a couple."

"This may be out of line, but if Keiko asked you to commit to her, what would you do?"

"Discuss it, but most likely say 'yes'. She's been very careful not to pressure me about it, but it's clear that's what she wants. If I had to wager, I'd bet that question will come sometime before school starts again in August."

"You've been anticipating it?"

"Once the situation with Bev was resolved, I figured it was only a matter of time. But Keiko's smart, and she'll gently push for an exclusive relationship when she feels I'm ready to say 'yes'. That won't be an engagement, then, but it's a fairly straight line from point A to point B. There are a few complications, but we've discussed them, and I think we have a clear way forward."

"Kristy and I are talking about setting a date. We haven't come up with one yet, but when it happens, I want you for my best man."

"I'd be honored. Allyson will be the maid of honor?"

"Yes."

"And go on the honeymoon with you?" I asked with a goofy grin.

"Kristy is open-minded, but she's not THAT open-minded! I'll have to leave it to the best man to entertain the maid of honor!"

"That will all depend on when, obviously, because while Keiko accepts me playing around now, there is zero chance she'd accept it once we're a couple."

"So, not going for Bianca's harem idea?"

I chuckled, "It is an option, but Keiko isn't going to sign up for that, and we're on a trajectory. In fact, the more I think about it, I'd wager she asks for exclusivity as soon as we come back from Saint Martin. She'll consider that my last fling, so to speak, then ask."

"And you're OK with that?"

"I am."

The day was routine, but busy, as was the evening with dinner at Violet's, class, coffee and pie while Violet and I worked on our homework together, and then walking her home. When I arrived home, I changed, then joined my housemates in the great room to watch the news. When I asked, Keiko said she wasn't as tired, which indicated the iron supplements were working, which I felt was a good sign. After the news, Bianca joined me in bed.

"I'm going to turn in a proposal tomorrow for what I'm calling a programmer/analyst position," I said. "Decisions are made fairly quickly, so I might need you to come in for an interview in the next few weeks. Are you interested?"

"Setting aside the money, it's intriguing. It would be getting in on the ground floor of something that could be a game changer. I'd get grief from my parents for switching to part-time at Loyola, but if the salary is anything like yours, even if my parents stop paying, I'll be able to afford school."

"Spurgeon pays for my classes. That's a perk they offer all employees, so long as it's applicable to your job, which means any classes you had to take to earn a computer science degree."

"Better and better! Not to mention working with you!"

"You've failed to consider one aspect," I said.

"What?"

"I don't sleep with anyone who works for Spurgeon."

"Do you want to DIE, Mr. Kane?" Bianca asked fiercely.

"I was teasing because I'd clearly make an exception for you, given we're already involved. But you know that barring some serious change of heart on my part, we'll stop sleeping together at some point."

"Yes, but after I'm pregnant with our kid! Keiko agreed, right?"

"Yes, though she drew the line at me having sex with anyone other than her once we're married."

"And working, assuming I get the job, would make it possible to do that sooner, as I wouldn't have to worry about completing my degree first. This sounds better and better. You're that sure about Keiko?"

"I told Jack I expect her to ask for us to be a couple once we come back from Saint Martin. And with the caveat about having a baby with you, I'll say 'yes'. I didn't mention that caveat to Jack, by the way. I'm not sure who you want to know in advance other than Keiko, Shelly, and Deanna, who all know your plan."

"It's better to keep it quiet, though you could tell Jack, given he's your best friend."

"He asked me to be his best man today, though he and Kristy haven't set a date."

"No surprise there," Bianca observed. "Mind if we stop talking? I have a better use for our mouths!"

"I don't mind at all!"

May 13, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Friday morning, after I'd arrived at the office and done all my usual arrival and pre-market tasks, I completed my analysis of the 'split-strike' method, wrote a brief report, attached a dozen pages of printouts with data to back up my analysis, then took it to Mr. Matheson.

"Bottom line?" he asked.

"The numbers don't support his claims unless he's the luckiest man on Wall Street. Maybe he is, but I wouldn't count on it."

"Theorize."

"Inside information on a few big movers would do it if he could time the market perfectly. Or he's front-running stocks traded through his clearing firm. If I had to put money on it, that's it. Of course, that's not the S&P Index, but maybe it's the majority of his profits, and the individual shares are a small piece."

"It could be that he's lying," Mr. Matheson suggested.

"I discounted that because how does he ever pay out the gains in that case? They have to be real, right?"

"I would think so, but what if they aren't?"

"Nobody," I protested firmly, "and I mean nobody is going to get away with running a years-long Ponzi scheme in the stock market! One false move and BOOM! And there have been enough bearish periods to create significant problems with redemptions. The classic Ponzi schemes relied on the operator disappearing as soon as he'd made a decent amount of money. That hasn't happened here, so, no, I don't think so. There have to be real gains from somewhere or he'd have either been caught or he'd be bankrupt; most likely both."

"I agree," Mr. Matheson said. "You know the saying -- there are only three ways to make money in this business -- be first, be smarter, or cheat. And we don't cheat. But I suspect Madoff has to be cheating somehow, as you do, so there's nothing there for us, We have no reason to copy his methods nor to allow him to run money. We are going to clear through him, though. The price is unbeatable."

"Which makes perfect sense," I confirmed. "On another topic, I'll have the job description for the programmer/analyst position and a proposal by the end of the day. My friend is intrigued."

"OK. I'll review everything, discuss it with Noel, and probably bring you into the conversation. Good work."

"Thanks."

I went back to my desk and wrote the promised documents, and just before 5:00pm, I left them on Mr. Matheson's desk. He wouldn't see them until Monday, as he nearly always left the minute the market closed on Fridays. Once that was done, I put away my notes, locked my desk, and shut down my computer. A few minutes later, I joined Jack and Kristy in the lobby of the building to wait for the boys to show up, along with Meg, who was my date for the evening.

"September 3rd," Jack said. "Put it on your calendar."

"That's the day?" I asked.

"Yep! That's the Saturday before Labor Day."

"Where?"

"Kristy's mom's Lutheran church in Batavia."

"And the honeymoon?"

"A Caribbean Cruise, courtesy of Kristy's dad."

"That sounds like a blast! Have you told Allyson?"

"Last night," Kristy replied. "My mom and I will get the invitations out by the end of May."

"Cool! Do you guys plan to stay or get your own place?"

"Stay," Jack said. "It's cheap, and we prefer to save money until Kristy graduates from law school, and I move up the next rung of the ladder."

"Very cool! And here come the boys, and I see Meg right behind them."

Four hours later, the six of us walked out of the theatre after seeing Breathless.

"Would you like to come home with me?" I asked Meg.

"I thought that was a given!" the bubbly, voluptuous blonde exclaimed. "I was really happy when you called!"

We bade Dustin, Archie, Costas, and Trevor 'good night' after I confirmed they'd be at the Memorial Day cookout my housemates and I were hosting, then Jack, Kristy, Meg, and I headed to my car for the drive home. When we arrived, the house was dark, indicating nobody was home. I flipped on the light in the hallway that led from the back door, and as I entered the great room, I saw Keiko sitting alone in the dark on the couch. She had her legs pulled up to her chest and her arms around them.

"Keiko?" I said. "What's wrong?"

"The doctor thinks I might have leukemia."

XLVII. Would You Define 'Good'?

May 13, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I was stunned but moved quickly to sit next to her and put my arm around her.

"What exactly did the doctor say?" Kristy asked.

"That the lab found leukemic blast cells in my blood smear, and saw what they called Auer rods. I need a bone marrow biopsy to confirm."

"When?" I asked.

"Monday at the hospital," she replied.

"If you have it," I asked, "is it treatable?"

"With chemo."

"How can we help you?" I asked.

"Just hug me, please," she requested.

I helped her into my lap and wrapped my arms around her.

"I think it might be best for me to go back to the dorm," Meg suggested.

"Probably," I replied. "Sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about! Kristy, could I get a ride."

"Yes. Jack and I will take you."

"Jonathan, call me, OK?" Meg requested.

"I will. Please don't share Keiko's news until she says you can."

"I promise I won't," Meg said.

"Neither will we," Jack confirmed.

The three of them left, leaving Keiko and me on the couch.

"Sorry I ruined your evening," she said.

"I care for you, and I want to help you in any way I can. Don't worry about Meg or about me. What else do you know about it?"

"Not much, except that it explains the low white blood cell count, anemia, and fatigue. There are too many different forms with very different outcomes, so the doctor said we need to wait for the results of the tests on Monday."

"Who have you told?"

"Just you, well, and Meg, Jack, and Kristy. Thank you for asking them not to share."

"It's something only you should share. When did you find out?"

"The doctor's office called just after I arrived home from class, and I was the only one here."

"What's involved in the tests?"

"They do an aspiration, that is, suck out fluid with a needle, and then take a small piece of bone marrow. It's done with a local anesthetic."

"Do you need me to be with you?" I asked.

"It's at 1:00pm at Rush-Presbyterian."

"How long does the procedure take?"

"About thirty minutes, start to finish."

"I can swing that by taking a late lunch and skipping the gym, if you either come to the Hancock Center or I meet you at the hospital."

"I think you should meet me there because I have to check in at 12:30pm to fill out paperwork."

"OK. What do you need now?"

"Just hold me, please."

"Cuddle in bed?" I suggested.

"Yes."

I carried Keiko up to my room, undressed her, and then took off my clothes. We got into bed, and she snuggled close. I wrapped my arms around her and held her as she'd requested.

May 16, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I'd spent the weekend with Keiko and had canceled my other plans, which meant not seeing Marcia or Teri. I was vague with them, as Keiko didn't want the news spreading until she had more information. As I'd promised her, I arrived at Rush-Presbyterian Hospital at 12:50pm on Monday afternoon to be with her while she had her test. I sat with my arm around her until a nurse called her name. We got up and walked over.

"The test procedure can be somewhat disconcerting," the nurse said to me. "Are you confident you can handle it?"

"I promised Keiko I'd be with her," I said. "So yes."

"OK," she said. "Please follow me."

She took us to a room and instructed Keiko to undress and put on a gown and special socks with grippy soles.

"Your friend can wait in the hallway, if you want."

Keiko smiled, "We're lovers, so he's seen it all."

"Then I'll leave you. Everything off before you put on the gown and socks, please, then lie down on the exam table. The doctor will be in to see you in about ten minutes."

She left, closing the door behind her, and Keiko quickly undressed, put on the gown which she had me tie, then put on the socks. She got onto the exam table, and I sat down in a chair next to it. A few minutes later, the nurse returned with a doctor who introduced himself as Ken Webber. We shook hands, and he explained the procedure to Keiko, then washed his hands and put on gloves.

The nurse uncovered an instrument tray, and they had Keiko turn on her stomach. Keiko reached out her hand, and I took it while the nurse cleaned a spot on her lower back with alcohol. Next, the doctor injected lidocaine, then waited a few minutes for it to take effect. I decided I could handle seeing the procedure done, so I turned my head to see him use a needle to suck out some fluid, then use some kind of tool that looked like an awl to take out a piece of bone. Keiko said it was mostly uncomfortable and didn't hurt too badly.

The doctor let Keiko know that the samples would go to the lab right away and be examined, and she should have an answer by Tuesday afternoon, but she'd hear directly from her doctor, not him. He left, and the nurse put a dressing on the small wound, then had Keiko lie in a specific position for ten minutes to ensure there wasn't excessive bleeding. The nurse left, saying she'd return in ten minutes.

"How are you," I asked.

"OK," Keiko replied. "It hurts a little bit, but not a lot. Thank you for being here with me."

"I promise to do everything in my power to help you," I said.

"You're a very kind person," Keiko said.

"Thanks. I assume you'll tell your parents the diagnosis?"

"Yes, but I don't think I should do it by telephone if it's what the doctor suspects."

"Probably not. I don't have class tomorrow evening, so I could go with you, if you want. Beth will understand."

"I appreciate you making me your priority," Keiko said.

"We both know the path we're on," I said.

"We do," she said with a smile.

The nurse returned, examined the procedure site, and said everything looked good. She gave Keiko permission to get dressed, then left. Keiko began dressing, once she had on all her clothes, we left the room. We made our way out of the hospital, and as we each had our cars, we hugged, exchanged a kiss, and I headed back to the office. I called Beth and let her know I had to cancel our date, and I promised to call her soon to reschedule.

The rest of the afternoon was otherwise normal, and after work, I joined Violet for dinner, then went to class, had coffee and pie, then headed home. I changed clothes, then called Bev to find out how her first day at work had gone.

"It was mostly orientation and meeting people," she said. "I'll start working for real tomorrow. I appreciate everything you've done, Jonny!"

"You know I love you, Bev! Let's have lunch on Thursday, if you can swing it."

"I think I can. Call me that morning to confirm, OK?"

"I will."

We said 'goodbye', and I went to the door to Keiko's room.

"Want to come to bed?" I asked.

"Yes!" she exclaimed.

She got up from her bed, where she'd been reading a textbook, and followed me to my room. As we'd done the previous night, we undressed and got into bed, with Keiko snuggling close.

"Do you want to make love?" she asked.

"If you want to and you feel up to it.

"I do. Love me, please."

May 17, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Tuesday, I was on pins and needles all day, waiting for Keiko to call to let me know what the doctor had said. The call finally came at 3:47pm and was what I'd feared.

"I have Acute Myeloblastic Leukemia with maturation," Keiko said, her voice shaking.

"I have no idea what that means," I replied.

"It's a bone marrow cancer that affects blood cells that develop into white blood cells," Keiko said, sounding a bit stronger. "It prevents bone marrow cells from properly maturing, which results in an accumulation of immature myeloblast cells. Those are the cells that develop into blood cells."

"And the treatment?"

"Chemo, as I said. I have to see an oncologist at Rush-Presbyterian on Friday. He'll explain everything."

"I'll go with you," I said. "Do you know when your appointment is?"

"3:00pm."

"OK. I'll arrange it with work. Did your doctor say anything else?"

"No. He's a GP, so he's not well-versed in cancer."

"Are we going to your parents' house?"

"My grandfather's house. I'm going to tell him first."

"OK. I'll see you at home at 5:30pm."

"I'll call my grandfather and say we want to come visit."

"Whatever you feel is best," I said.

"Thanks, Jonathan."

We said 'goodbye', and I went to see Mr. Matheson. He was on the phone, and Anna said she'd let me know when he was available, which he was about ten minutes later. I explained the situation, and he approved me leaving the office at 2:30pm on Friday, which wasn't a major inconvenience, as that was only thirty minutes before the market closed.

"I hope she responds well to chemo," he said.

"Me, too," I agreed.

I thanked him, then left his office to complete my work for the day. At 5:00pm, I left the office, met Jack in the lobby, and we went to my car.

"Keiko's diagnosis of leukemia was confirmed," I said as I backed out of the parking spot.

"Oh, shit!" Jack said. "How bad is it?"

"We won't know until Friday; I'm going with her to see an oncologist."

"Chemo really knocks you out," Jack said. "She has, what, two weeks of class after this week?"

"Yes. I can't imagine they won't make an accommodation of some kind. Maybe she can take her final exams early. I'll discuss that with her this evening. We're going to her grandfather's house so she can tell him."

"Not her parents?"

"This is what she wants to do, and I don't think I'm in any position to question what she wants at the moment."

"You're right, of course. It would throw me for multiple loops. You seem pretty calm."

"I did a tiny bit of research, so take this with a grain of salt because I can't vouch for the sources, but many forms of leukemia are treatable, and young people have a very good chance of beating it. A lot depends on which type because there appear to be dozens of types and subtypes."

"How'd you find that?"

"I used the Nexis system and found a few articles, but they weren't from medical journals or whatever, so as I said, I don't know how reliable they are. I'm sure the doctor will have the best information."

When we arrived home, it was obvious Keiko had revealed her diagnosis to the other girls as they were all sitting with her in the great room with grim looks. I greeted everyone, hugged Keiko, then went upstairs to change into slacks and a polo shirt, then went back downstairs. Keiko had called her grandfather, and he'd invited us for dinner, so we left right away for his house.

"How are you doing?" I asked once I'd pulled out of the driveway into the alley.

"I alternate from emotional to numb," Keiko said. "I'm trying hard to keep it together."

"Just let me know what I can do."

"You're doing it," she said.

"OK, but anything, seriously. Promise you'll ask."

"I will."

"What do you plan to say to your grandfather?"

"Just what I know."

"And your parents?"

"I plan to tell my grandfather when we're having tea after we eat. I think once I've done that, I'll call my parents and see if we can stop by. They live less than thirty minutes from my grandfather's house.

"I think that sounds reasonable," I agreed. "Have you told Ellie?"

"No. I'll do that tomorrow at school."

"You might want to speak to your counselor about taking your exams early if you're going to start chemo. I hear it can be really rough."

"Kristy suggested that before you came home. I'll do that tomorrow."

We arrived at Ichirō's house, and I remembered and put into practice the etiquette that Keiko had taught me for our previous visit. The meal was excellent, and I wondered if Keiko's grandparents detected the stress which she was under. It didn't appear so, as they behaved similarly to how they had during my previous visit. When tea and cakes were served after the meal, Keiko broke her news.

"祖父 (Sofu), I have leukemia," she said, then began sobbing. ("Grandfather")

I put my arm around her as a look of complete shock passed over her grandfather's face, and her grandmother, Atsuko, immediately broke down in tears.

"What did the doctor tell you," Ichirō asked stoically.

Keiko was sobbing, so I answered.

"Not much," I said. "We're going to see an oncologist at Rush-Presbyterian on Friday at 3:00pm. According to what Keiko's doctor said, the usual treatment is chemotherapy. We'll know more on Friday."

"Has she informed her parents?" Ichirō asked.

"No. She wanted to come here first. We might see them after we leave."

"I think we should call them," Atsuko said, having recovered enough to speak.

"Keiko?" I inquired.

She nodded, then turned so she could put her head on my chest while I held her.

Ichirō got up and went to the phone and placed a call which was entirely in Japanese. When he hung up, he returned to the table and sat down.

"They will be here in about twenty-five minutes," he said. "I simply said that Keiko had something she wanted to share with them."

I wasn't sure that was a good idea, as I was positive that the first thing that would come to mind was that Keiko and I were announcing our engagement. That couldn't be helped, as I didn't feel it was right to tell them over the telephone about Keiko's illness. She'd given me the diagnosis over the phone, but that was only a confirmation of what she'd told me face-to-face the previous Friday.

"How did you know to be tested?" Ichirō asked.

Keiko had recovered enough to answer herself, so I remained quiet.

"I felt very tired all the time," she said. "I spoke to a nurse at school, and she suggested I might have anemia. I do, but they also detected a low white blood cell count, so they did further blood tests. Those showed I might have leukemia, so I had a bone marrow biopsy on Friday, which confirmed it."

"How long have you known?"

"I received the biopsy results this afternoon," Keiko said. "I called Jonathan to tell him because he was with me when I had the test, then called you to arrange to have dinner."

We sipped tea until Keiko's parents, Itsurō and Hanako, arrived. From the looks on their faces, I was fairly certain they assumed what I'd thought they might, and I knew they were in for a huge shock. They sat down, and Atsuko poured them tea.

"«お父さん, お母さん» (Otōsan, Okāsan), I have leukemia," Keiko said. ("Dad, Mom")

"Oh no!" Hanako gasped. "It cannot be true!"

"It is," Keiko said.

"Are you sure, Keiko-chan?" Itsurō asked.

"Yes, I had tests because I was feeling very tired, and they told me today. I'm meeting an oncologist on Friday to find out about chemotherapy."

"Come home, Keiko-chan," Hanako said.

"I want to stay with Jonathan," Keiko said.

"You need to be home with us!" Hanako insisted.

"Jonathan, would you let us speak privately with Keiko?" Itsurō asked.

Ichirō said something in Japanese to his son, which caused his daughter-in-law to become visibly angry and say something in Japanese, which seemed to start an argument.

"Keiko, do you want me to go?" I asked quietly.

"No," she replied quietly. "My mom is, well, I explained about her."

"But if it would get her to calm down."

Keiko put her hand on my arm, "Grandfather wants you to stay."

The argument lasted several minutes, with Keiko simply sitting quietly.

"Keiko-chan will stay at Jonathan's house," Ichirō declared in English.

"Thank you, 祖父 (Sofu)," she said. ("Grandfather")

"I promise to take care of her," I said.

"I know you will," Ichirō said.

The glare from his daughter-in-law, Keiko's mom, was withering, but I didn't particularly care because Keiko's opinion was the only one that truly mattered to me.

"Keiko-chan," her dad said, "Please call me if you need anything at all, and I want to speak to the doctor, if that's OK."

"Yes, of course, «お父さん» (Otōsan)." ("Dad")

We finished our tea, and Keiko said she wanted to go home to sleep, so we said 'goodbye'. Keiko received hugs from her parents and grandparents, and I bowed to all of them.

"May I ask about the argument your mom was having with your grandfather?" I inquired once we were in my car.

"My mother thinks I need to be at home."

"You know I'm a straight shooter," I said. "Just tell me what she said."

"That I need to be in a Japanese house because your house has no «kami»."

"I apologize in advance for being ignorant, but how would we bring «kami» into my house?"

"But you don't believe in them," Keiko said.

"It's true that I don't, but you do, at least after a fashion, and that's what matters. Is that something you would want to do?"

"It is normal for a Japanese household, yes."

"What would we need to do?" I asked.

"To start? We would need a «神棚» (kamidana), a 'Spirit Shelf', similar to the one my grandfather has. You've seen it. Besides the items you saw, there also need to be «お札/御札» (ofuda), which are slips of paper with the names of my ancestors. We'd also need a Shinto priest to bless it."

"Where are we going to find a Shinto priest in Chicago?"

"There is a Shinto priest at the Buddhist Temple of Chicago, which is close to the Lawrence stop on the L on the way into the city from your house."

"Wow!" I exclaimed in surprise. "That close? I had no idea! What else?"

"There are four affirmations of Shinto that we would need to follow. First, to hold fast to tradition and family, which I do. You honor our traditions at my grandfather's house, and it would be doing some similar things here, if you're willing."

"None of the things you've asked me to do goes against anything I believe, so I think we can find a way. What's the second thing?"

"To love nature, which I don't believe is a problem for you, given what you told me about where you grew up."

Which included shooting rabbits and deer, which I wasn't going to mention.

"So, flowers and maybe some of those Japanese miniature trees?"

"You mean «盆栽», (bonsai)," Keiko replied. "Yes, and flowers inside and outside would be good."

"So far, so good," I said. "Next?"

Keiko laughed softly, "Physical cleanliness. You love showers and baths, so no problems there, though it would be nice to have a Japanese bath."

"What's that?"

"A large round tub in which multiple people could sit; a hot tub would be a good substitute."

"Done. I'll have one installed in the backyard. I also want to build a fire pit. What else?"

"The one I have the most difficulty with -- to worship and honor the «kami» and ancestral spirits. I suspect that would be impossible for you."

"I'm not so sure," I countered. "If honor is sufficient, isn't that what we do for George Washington, Martin Luther King, Florence Nightingale, and other great men and women of the past?"

"I think that's a good analogy, and yes, honor would be sufficient."

"Where does the Spirit Shelf go?"

"On a wall, above eye level, but not over a door or passageway. Think of it as similar to a fireplace mantle, only higher."

"Could it go in any room? Or does the room need to be Japanese?"

"Any room, really, but may I make a suggestion?"

"Sure."

"We could put it in the front room and add some Japanese art."

"And a small low table with cushions?" I suggested. "We'd just need to rearrange the room a bit. But with no TV in that room, we can shift everything around and not worry about everyone being able to see a screen."

"That would be nice."

"Will that satisfy your mom?"

"No. Her other objection cannot be solved."

"That I'm not Japanese."

"Yes. The argument started when she called you «外人» (gaijin) in a way that would be like ignorant rednecks saying 'feriner'. My grandfather corrected her to «外国人» (gaikokujin), then pointed out she lived in America and had married an American."

"Your dad is a Japanese-American," I countered.

"Yes, of course, but my mom was born in Japan. She has more biases than anyone else in my family, which is not uncommon for first-generation immigrants."

"So, Issei, like your great-grandfather?"

Keiko smiled, "You remembered the word! Yes, but as you know, my grandfather does not have those biases, and he put my mom in her place. My dad didn't try to stop him."

"Isn't that because your dad respects your grandfather as patriarch of the family?"

"Partly, but also because he agrees with my grandfather. Please don't worry about my mom."

"You once told me she had more Western ideas than anyone except your aunt's American husband."

"It's true, but she still has views about what it means to be Japanese, and she wants Japanese grandchildren."

"And you having a Caucasian husband would be a problem."

"Yes. But don't worry about her."

"What else can I do for you?"

"When we get home, make love to me."

"There's nothing I'd like more!"

May 18, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"How are you doing?" I asked Keiko when we woke up on Wednesday morning.

"Nervous and stressed," she said.

"Is there anything more I can do to help?" I asked.

"I don't think so," Keiko replied as we went into the bathroom to shower together.

Because I had to leave for work, the shower was about being clean, so we each washed ourselves, then dried off, dressed, and went downstairs to have breakfast with Jack. When we finished eating, I hugged and kissed Keiko, and then Jack and I left for work.

"How's she holding up?" he asked once I'd pulled out of the alley.

"She's hanging in there," I replied. "Her grandfather and dad are very supportive, but her mom wants her to move home."

"I think my mom would want the same thing," Jack observed.

"And mine, too, but not for the reason Keiko's mom expressed -- I'm not Japanese, and our house doesn't have «kami», which are spirits. Not in the sense of ghosts, but more like an animating energy. Anyway, her mom's objection is based on very traditional Japanese ideas about race and culture."

"Are you trying to say she's racist?"

"It has that feel, but I'm not sure I'd use that word because it has so many connotations based on race relations in the US. Anyway, Keiko and I did discuss how we could bring «kami» into the house."

"Dude, you're an atheist!" Jack protested.

"And as I pointed out to Keiko, what I believe isn't important; it's what she believes that's important. And none of the things we'd do are in any way objectionable, nor do they require me to compromise my values. I'll put what amounts to a Shinto shrine in the front room. It's basically a shelf with Japanese items set above eye level. I'm not quite sure what all goes on the shelf, but Keiko will know. I'll also get some Japanese art for the walls of the room, similar to the prints the girls already put up.

"Another thing that is necessary is having fresh flowers and plants in the house and garden. We'll get some of those Japanese miniature trees, plant flowers in the backyard, and that kind of thing. Another component is having good personal hygiene, which we both do, but Keiko suggested a Japanese bath. I'm not a hundred percent sure what that means, but she said a hot tub was a good substitute, so I'll have one installed in the backyard and also build the fire pit that Stuart suggested.

"The last part, which is actually a challenge for Keiko as well, is the ancestor and «kami» worship, but we're finessing that by calling it 'honoring ancestors' which I compared to how we revere George Washington or Martin Luther King. For Keiko, being Shinto is part of being Japanese in that she follows the cultural traditions, but like me, she is highly skeptical of the existence of any gods. Well, I'm more than skeptical, but you get the point."

"Just out of curiosity," Jack asked, "how do you see that helping if her mom doesn't like you because you're American?"

"Call it a 'peace offering', and maybe we can find a middle ground where she's not calling me the equivalent of 'feriner' in Japanese. But beyond that, anything I can do that will help Keiko, I'm going to do. As you said, chemo is rough, and if a bit of home decorating keeps her spirits up, it's well worth it."

"For sure. Is there anything I can do?"

"Be our friend."

"That's a lock, Bro," Jack replied firmly.

"Thanks."

I had a busy day at work, as Tony was still out, and other than my usual trip to the gym, I had my nose to the grindstone, as it were. I did take ten minutes out to call Brown Construction to ask about installing a hot tub, and set up an appointment for an estimate on Saturday.

That evening, as usual, I had dinner with Violet and, having obtained permission from Keiko, let Violet know about Keiko's diagnosis.

"Oh my gosh!" Violet gasped at the news. "That's terrible! Will she have chemotherapy?"

"We'll know more on Friday afternoon," I said. "That's when she's seeing the oncologist."

"If I can help you in any way, I will," Violet offered.

I smiled, "Thanks."

After our meal, we cleaned up, then headed to Circle for our classes. I wasn't surprised when Teri asked if I was available on Sunday. I contemplated what to say and decided the best approach was to accept her invitation to get together so I could explain in detail, as the professor was ready to start class, and I had to leave immediately after class to meet Violet. That would also allow me to hear what the oncologist had to say, which might affect my plans, depending on what Keiko would need.

Later, after my usual pie and coffee with Violet, I headed home. At home, I greeted everyone who was in the great room, then went upstairs to change. I saw Keiko in her room and asked her to come to my room.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"OK, I guess," Keiko said. "I spoke to my counselor today, and they'll make whatever accommodation I need. Once we have our appointment on Friday, I'll have a better idea what to ask for."

"Good. I called today about the hot tub. Someone is coming from the construction company to give me an estimate on Saturday morning. What do we need to do about the Spirit Shelf?"

"I spoke to my grandfather today, and he'll obtain everything we need through friends in San Francisco, where there is a much larger Japanese community."

"Good. Do you want to spend the night? I'm sure Deanna will understand."

Keiko smiled, "She already offered, and I accepted. Bianca said the same thing."

"OK. I'm having dinner with Teri on Sunday, but otherwise, I'm going to cancel my other plans for the weekend."

"Are you sure? I'm not asking you to do that."

"I know, but I want to make sure I'm taking care of you."

"You need to take care of yourself, too! What plans did you have?"

"Going out with Jack and Kristy on Friday, seeing Marcia on Saturday evening, and Teri on Sunday afternoon. I can change my plans with Marcia to lunch next week, and Jack will understand if I don't go out on Friday."

"You should go out with Jack. Ask Meg; I'll be fine, I promise."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Keiko replied. "We shouldn't change our relationship because the future is too uncertain."

"Isn't that always the case?" I asked.

"Well, yes, of course, but you know what might happen, right?"

"Something I don't really want to think about right now," I replied with a heavy heart. "And you need to keep a positive outlook."

"That's true, but you are logical and analytical. You know what might happen, and that's why your behavior has changed."

"It's changed because I care about you," I countered.

"I know, but if it were something easily curable, you wouldn't respond the same way, would you?"

"No," I admitted.

"So, the path we're on may end, and soon," Keiko said quietly.

"I don't want to think about that."

"Neither do I, but that doesn't change anything."

"No," I said with resignation. "It doesn't."

May 20, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Thursday had been a typical day, though I'd had lunch with Bev, who had expressed shock and sadness at the news about Keiko. On Friday mid-morning, Mr. Matheson called me into his office.

"What's your take on the bombing in South Africa?" he asked.

"Well, given it only happened an hour ago, not much. It's most likely the ANC, which the South African government, along with the US and UK, calls a terrorist organization. I'd put it on par with car bombs in Northern Ireland -- terrible for those affected, but no real effect on the price of gold, diamonds, or the stock market."

"Do you think the ANC can win?"

"I suppose it depends on what you mean by 'win'. I think, ultimately, apartheid will end. The only question is whether it's by negotiation or by the ANC overthrowing the government. I don't think the ANC can overthrow the government, so their best bet is some kind of negotiated settlement. But, given apartheid, I'm not sure I'd take a negotiated settlement if I were the ANC."

"You think they're right?"

"In the sense that they are discriminated against by the white government, yes. I think they'd win a free and fair election. That has nothing to do with being right or wrong, policy-wise. They have ties to the South African Communist Party, and, well, I have no love for communism."

"I should hope not!"

"I think the agreement brokered the other day for Israel to withdraw from Lebanon is much more likely to have impact on global markets, as anything that moves towards peace in the Middle East reduces price pressures on oil, and given oil is probably the most essential commodity for the world economy after grain, it's going to have far more effect than even the overthrow of the South African government would. After all, the ANC might be communist, but they're still going to mine gold and diamonds for the export revenue, and gold has value no matter what politics you might hold."

"Good analysis. On another topic, I reviewed the proposal you wrote for the analyst/programmer, which I think is a better way to put it than programmer/analyst because I don't want to deemphasize that it's an analyst position. You've shown me what we can do, and I think it makes sense to bring someone on board.

"Phil will object, but nobody on his team does programming -- it's all outsourced to consultants, and really, it's not all that different from what you were doing, just that they'd spend most of their time writing programs, though they'd need to do research to understand trends, and so forth. And, in the end, it's not up to Phil. Is your friend willing to come for an interview?"

"Yes."

"Set it up with Mandy Peterson. It's open requisition FX198309, for an analyst. They should see me, Tony, you, and Rich."

"I'll do that."

"Good. What's his name?"

"Her. Bianca Pérez. She's nothing like Paige Jennings, so don't worry about that."

"It's your ass, Kane. It's your job to keep her onside."

"Understood."

"You're leaving at 2:30pm for your girlfriend's appointment, right?"

"Yes."

"Good luck."

"Thanks."

I left his office and went back to my desk. I called Mandy Peterson and let her know what Mr. Matheson and I had discussed, and she asked me to bring her the job specification. I did that, and she asked me to have Bianca call her. I agreed, then returned to my desk. As usual, I ate at my desk, worked out in the gym, then spent another ninety minutes working before I had to leave to meet Keiko at Rush-Presbyterian.

When I arrived, I parked, walked into the hospital, and asked the young woman at the information desk how to find Oncology. She provided me directions, and three minutes later, I walked into the waiting room, where I saw Keiko filling out forms attached to a clipboard. She stood up, we hugged, then we both sat down.

"One of these forms is a medical power of attorney," she said. "Is it OK to put you down?"

"If you're sure," I replied.

"Positive. If it comes to a point where I can't decide for myself, I know you'll do what's best for me, no matter what. I think my mom would try to keep me alive even if it was hopeless and I was in terrible pain."

"I hope that day never comes."

"And yet, you being who you are, know that we have to plan for all eventualities."

"I do," I replied. "Is it OK to consult your grandfather on any decisions?"

"Yes, and while I ask you to respect his views, I trust you to make the right decisions."

"Hopefully, it won't come to that, but I want to discuss this in more detail so I understand your wishes."

"Yes, of course. I'll want you to come to all my appointments with me, if possible."

"I'll do my best," I replied. "I'll need to speak to my boss and Personnel."

Keiko finished filling out the forms and went to the nurse at the desk to turn them in. She signed a few papers, then came back to sit next to me.

"She notarized the document, and she'll have a copy for you when we leave. They'll keep the original on file."

"Keiko Suzuki?" a nurse called from a door to our left.

We got up and walked through the door, then followed the nurse to an exam room. The nurse took Keiko's pulse, temperature, and blood pressure, wrote them on a chart, then left the room. About five minutes later, a doctor who looked to be around forty came into the exam room.

"Hi, Keiko," he said. "I'm Doctor Morrison. Who's your partner?"

"My friend Jonathan Kane," she said.

"Good afternoon, Jonathan."

"Hi, Doctor," I replied.

"Keiko, how are you feeling?" Doctor Morrison asked.

"A bit tired, and the spot where they did the biopsy is a bit sore, but otherwise OK."

"Neither of those is out of the ordinary. Are you and Jonathan prepared for a very direct conversation?"

"Yes," Keiko said, and I nodded my agreement.

"Good. I've reviewed your blood work, as well as the diagnostic notes from your biopsy. I'll start with the good news -- the most important initial factor in terms of a negative outcome is a high white blood cell count on first presentation. Yours was low, and combined with your age, gives you a very good chance of a positive outcome."

I breathed a sigh of relief, though I knew we were nowhere near being out of the woods.

"Our next step," he continued, "is to determine the grade of your leukemia. There are two steps -- first, additional blood work, and second, a lumbar puncture to determine if there is spinal or meningeal involvement. Either of those would be indications of a less positive prognosis. Once those tests are complete, we'll discuss the next step, which, in most cases, would be chemotherapy."

"And then you'll know the stage?" Keiko asked.

"Leukemia, unlike other cancers, isn't 'staged'," Doctor Morrison said. "It's 'graded' instead. Most leukemias do not result in tumors, which are the primary way we determine the stage of a cancer, together with the spread of cancerous cells. Leukemia affects bone marrow but does not spread to other organs directly, though they can be affected."

"When will you do the tests?" she asked.

"I'll have Lisa draw blood and assist me with the lumbar puncture, and you'll have the results on Monday afternoon at the latest. The lumbar puncture is a bit uncomfortable, but not terribly so. I'll review blood smears and your spinal fluid, and that will give me the information I need to determine the correct course of chemotherapy."

"When would that start?" I asked.

"Potentially next week," Doctor Morrison said. "If you're concerned about the delay, I can allay your fears somewhat, in that the biggest risk Keiko faces right now is an opportunistic infection because of her low white count. A few days, or even a week, won't make any significant difference in the outcome, and I feel it's best to be methodical in cases such as this. I can make no promises, but the five-year survival rate for a nineteen-year-old female with a low white cell count on first presentation is very, very good."

"Would you define 'good'?"

"Let's wait for the results of the tests I want to run today. I don't want to speculate on something that is inherently speculative even with complete information."

"I'm a stock market analyst," I said. "So I completely understand, and unless Keiko objects, I'd like to hear the numbers. I'll understand what they mean."

"I don't object," Keiko said.

"With the caveat that this could change based on the tests I'm running today, more than 70% of patients in Keiko's age group who present similar to her go into remission and live at least five years. If the patient stays in remission for five years, they're considered cured. Shall we do the tests?"

"Yes," Keiko agreed.

XLVIII. I Won't Let You Down

May 20, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"You're sure?" I asked Keiko when she insisted I go out with Jack, Kristy, and Meg.

"Positive," Keiko replied. "I'm going to drive home -- I mean our house -- have something to eat, then go to bed. I'm still very tired, and I want to go with you to the nursery tomorrow."

I'd been surprised, not just by the fact that there was a Shinto priest within a few minutes of my house, but also a nursery that sold bonsai trees that was even closer.

"OK. We'll do that after the estimator from Brown Construction finishes looking at the backyard. I rescheduled my plans with Marcia to lunch on Tuesday, so I have all day with you tomorrow."

"And you should keep your date with Teri on Sunday afternoon. I have homework, and I'm studying for finals because I may take them early."

"I was also considering delaying the trip to Saint Martin," I said. "If you're going through chemo, you won't be able to go, and I don't want to leave you for eight days."

"Would you lose the trip?"

"Probably not, but you're more important."

Keiko smiled, "Thank you. But you did promise the other girls."

"I know, but I think they'll understand. I won't request any changes until we speak to Doctor Morrison."

"Then I'll see you in the morning. I'm positive I won't be awake when you get home. And it's OK to bring Meg home with you. You and I aren't a couple."

I took a deep breath and let it out, though doing my best not to make it obvious.

"Did you want to be?"

Keiko smiled, "Yes, but let's not make decisions at the moment. There are far too many unknowns. As I said the other day, we don't know where this will lead."

"OK," I agreed. "I'm here for you, and I'll do whatever you need."

We hugged, she got into her car, and once she'd driven off, I got into my car. I checked my watch and realized I could get back to the parking garage just before 5:00pm, which meant I wouldn't have to pay any fees, so I drove the quickest route at the best speed I could and pulled in with six minutes to spare, saving myself the $15 flat fee for overnight parking, which was charged for entering the garage after 5:00pm.

"How is Keiko?" Jack asked when he, Kristy, Meg, and I met in the lobby.

"They ran more tests today," I said. "We'll know on Monday. The positive news is that with Keiko's initial symptoms, her prognosis is better than the typical person with the specific type of leukemia she has. According to the doctor, the biggest threat is what he called 'opportunistic infections'. I'm hopeful after hearing from the oncologist. What's the scoop for tonight?"

"Are you two OK with seeing Blue Thunder?" Jack asked.

"Sounds good to me; Meg?"

"Sure."

"Anything particular you guys want for dinner?" Kristy asked.

"Meg?"

"Italian?"

"Italian it is!" Kristy declared.

We headed for Italian Village, had a great meal, then saw Blue Thunder, and, as we walked towards my car, I invited Meg to come to the house, and she happily agreed. As I'd expected, Keiko was in bed, and the other girls were out. Meg and I said 'good night' to Kristy and Jack and then went to my room.

"Any requests?" I asked.

"I want to do something I've never done before," Meg said.

"What's that?"

"Fuck all night! Start with sixty-nine until we both cum, then we sixty-nine until you're hard and fuck again. Repeat until morning!"

"At some point, physiology will intervene," I said.

"Then we go until you can't get it up again, sleep, and then before we shower, another thing I've never done -- a tit fuck."

"Good thing I don't have plans for tomorrow evening," I chuckled.

We both quickly stripped off our clothes, and I pulled the bubbly, voluptuous blonde into my arms for a searing French kiss.

May 21, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I'd cum seven times before nature refused to coöperate, but after three hours of sleep, I came twice more -- once on Meg's face from a tit fuck, and once in her pussy from a long, slow, gentle screw.

"Satisfied?" I asked with a grin as we got into the shower

"If I say 'no', will you do it again?" Meg asked impishly.

"You'd risk damaging my fragile male ego by saying you weren't?"

"First of all, you do NOT have a fragile ego! Second of all, I want you to ask me out again next semester! Third, it was totally awesome!"

"Where's home?" I asked as I soaped her gorgeous breasts.

"SoCal," she replied. "Sierra Madre, which is in the foothills of the San Gabriel Valley. Population about 10,000."

"That's about the same as Goshen Township, where I'm from. Goshen itself has less than a thousand."

I finished soaping Meg, and she moved under the shower to rinse off.

"When do you go home?" I asked as Meg began soaping my body.

"June 12th. I'll be at Ellie's end-of-the-semester party. That should be fun, too, but I really liked having you all to myself."

"I enjoyed being with you as well."

She finished lathering me, we rinsed off, and went downstairs to have breakfast, finishing just before the estimator from Brown Construction arrived. When I opened the door, I was surprised and happy to see Marcus Washington.

"Hi, Jonathan," he said.

We shook hands.

"Hi, Marcus! I didn't realize you did estimates."

"On Saturday mornings. Hot tub and fire pit, right?"

"Correct. Let me take you to the backyard."

We walked through the house to the backyard, and Marcus walked the perimeter.

"Any thoughts about where you want to situate the tub or fire pit?"

"I was thinking the tub close to the house, with a wooden deck around it and the fire pit more or less central to the yard."

He took some measurements, then checked the location of electrical and water supplies.

"I think that will work," he said. "I suggest removing the cement steps, creating a wooden deck the width of the house, with the hot tub to the right of the door as you face the house. That provides privacy on two sides, and we could add a privacy screen on the side open to your neighbor's house. Electrical and water are right there; extending water would add considerable cost. The size of the hot tub would dictate how far that part of the deck would extend. How many people?"

"I'd say six. I suspect any bigger would be both expensive and take up too much space."

"I think that's right. For the fire pit -- centrally located, three-foot diameter, fire-rated brick base, with a copper hood -- sound good?"

"Yes."

"I should be able to have an estimate for you on Monday. How soon do you want to do this?"

"Yesterday," I replied. "I'll pay a premium to jump to the front of your schedule."

"OK. Let me speak to Mr. Brown once I work up the numbers for the job. Is there some specific completion date you need?"

"No, just as soon as reasonably possible."

"Permits will be the real deciding factor. Someone will be in touch on Monday afternoon."

"Thanks."

We shook hands; I walked him back through the house to the front door, where we again shook hands. Once he left, I went upstairs to see if Keiko was ready to go to the nursery. She was visibly tired, and after discussing what to do, we agreed that we'd drop Meg at Loyola, then head to Gethsemane Garden Center. The three of us left the house, and after our stop at Loyola, Keiko and I drove to the nursery.

"I'm Kate," a woman who I guessed was about my mom's age said. "How may I help you?"

"We'd like to create flower beds along all four sides of our house," I said. "We'd also like four Bonsai trees for inside. I don't know much about flowers, but we'd like them to be in bloom from Spring to Fall, and be colorful. For the Bonsai, my girlfriend will have to give an opinion because I know next to nothing about them."

"Let's start with the Bonsai," Kate said.

She led us to a greenhouse, and I saw about three dozen Bonsai, along with a display of miniature tools. The miniature trees were pricey, but I didn't want that to interfere with what Keiko needed.

"Don't worry about the cost," I said quietly. "Pick the four you like and whatever tools you need."

It took about twenty minutes for Keiko to select a Chinese elm, a pomegranate, and two junipers. She also discussed lighting with Kate, and the discussion made it clear the plants needed to be by the picture window in the front room or by the smaller windows in my room and Keiko's room, which fortunately faced east and south. Kate suggested additional lights we could mount and added those to our order.

That accomplished, we spent nearly an hour discussing options for planting flower beds, and as the conversation progressed, I recalled something Jeri had said -- do the things you're good at and pay others to do the things they're good at. I inquired about having someone perform the landscaping tasks, and Kate said they could arrange it. Keiko and I decided on a mix of flowers, and I paid for our purchases and scheduled the landscaping crew who would create stone-bordered flowerbeds on May 31st.

We carefully loaded the bonsai, stands, and lights into the car, and took them home. I decided to completely re-make the front room into a Japanese motif, which meant we could move that furniture into the great room. That eliminated the need for more couches or chairs but meant I needed a trip to Pier 1 Imports. We ate lunch, and Keiko elected to stay home to nap while Bianca, Deanna, and I went out to run our errands.

"What all do we need?" Bianca asked.

"A low table, cushions, and other things that fit the Japanese style."

"I think they sell Papasan chairs, which are rattan frames with cushions shaped like a bowl and similar to my futon cushion," Deanna interjected. "I think three of those would be perfect. I don't know if they sell a double-version, a Mamasan, but one of those would be cool, too."

"That sounds like a great idea!" I said.

At Pier 1, we found exactly what Deanna had suggested, as well as the low table and cushion chairs with backs that the clerk who helped us called «zaisu» chairs. We also found some rectangular Japanese-print hanging tapestries, along with a pair of floor lamps that were not Japanese but fit the decor. I also bought an area rug that had a pattern Deanna pointed out matched the decor I'd selected.

It wouldn't all fit in my car, even in the large trunk, and I couldn't guarantee anyone would be home to accept delivery during the week, so after consulting with the store manager, the girls and I drove a short distance to a U-Haul store and rented a small truck for an hour. Bianca drove my car, and I drove the truck, and after taking everything to the house, we returned the truck, then went to Jewel and the dry cleaners before heading home.

At the house, we put away the groceries, then moved the furniture from the front room. Once it was empty, we dry-mopped the floor, then moved in the area rug, the lamps, and all the furniture. Keiko joined us and gave some suggestions, and when everything was in place, Deanna and I hung the tapestries.

"I think all that's left is the Spirit Shelf," I said.

"My grandfather called while you were out and said that he had ordered the things we need," Keiko replied.

"Please find out how much he spent, and I'll reimburse him."

"There's no need; he said it's a gift. It will take about ten days."

"OK. How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Tired, but naps help. I think part of it is the emotional strain."

"What can I do for you?"

"You're doing it," Keiko said. "This room, the flowers and plants, coming to my appointments with me and taking care of me."

"Make sure you let us know if you need anything at all," Bianca offered.

"I will; thanks," Keiko replied. "I need to do homework, and I'll take a short nap before dinner."

She hugged me, then went upstairs, and the three of us sat down in the new chairs.

"Bianca, I should have said something earlier, but you should call Mrs. Mandy Peterson at Spurgeon on Monday to arrange for an interview."

"Who conducts the interviews?" she asked.

"Mr. Matheson; Rich, the overnight trader; Tony, the equities analyst; Mrs. Peterson; and me."

"You?"

"That is what Mr. Matheson said!"

"Any advice?"

"Be yourself. You know the environment. You'll be the second female analyst; the first one didn't pass her probationary period."

"OK to ask why?"

"She had a very bad attitude. You know the concerns I have about Spurgeon, right? Well, she was vocal about them in the office."

"If they were paying her anything even close to what they pay you, she's an idiot!"

"She also bitched, publicly, about me buying a house and saying that I was the teacher's pet and was compensated better than she was for no good reason. And insisted that was true even though she knew I had securities licenses and had brought in significant business."

"Stupid. I do have a question -- what if someone hits on me?"

"Politely refuse. That's worked fine for Anna, even though people knew she was seeing me."

"I'll have to work around class for the interviews."

"Obviously, and we can accommodate. It'll take four hours, roughly, so with your schedule, probably Tuesday or Thursday, right?"

"Those afternoons are best, yes."

"Just let Mrs. Peterson know that."

"Will do!" Bianca declared happily. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Just hanging out here," I replied. "I was supposed to have dinner with Marcia, but I switched it to lunch on Tuesday. I think I should stay here in case Keiko needs me."

Deanna stood up and said she had to get ready for work, leaving Bianca and me alone in the front room.

"I had planned to go out with some of the girls tonight," Bianca said. "We could order pizza and rent a movie if you want some company."

"That would be OK, but you should check with Keiko."

"Let me do that now so I can call the girls. Be right back."

Bianca went upstairs, Deanna came down to say goodbye, and a minute later, Bianca returned to say that Keiko was amenable, then went to call the girls.

"Keiko said she plans to go to bed by 9:00pm," Bianca said. "She also said she needs to do homework after dinner."

"OK. Who all is coming here?"

"Juliette, Kasey, Josie, and Meg. The other girls have dates."

That didn't surprise me, and I expected more of the 'baseball' girls to begin dating and drop out.

"I take it Shelly is with Perry?"

"Yes. He graduated yesterday and has off until June 1st."

"That's cool. Do you know what day Shelly plans to move out?"

"She said Perry's lease is for June 1st. He found a place on South Oakley that's about a ten-minute walk to Cook County. They'll move in when his schedule allows."

"It's weird thinking about a doctor living in a garage apartment," I observed.

"Interns don't make a lot of money, especially at a county hospital. Shelly didn't say exactly, but he'll make less than you do and work something like ninety hours a week."

"Allyson explained that when we had dinner at Jeri's house, but that doesn't make it any less strange. She also said the money improves pretty dramatically once you become what she called an 'Attending', which is a designation for a doctor with more training and experience. How long that takes depends on the specialty you choose. All that came up in the context of discussing investments. And speaking of that, when you start at Spurgeon, assuming you accept the job offer, you should put the maximum permitted into the retirement fund and the main fund."

"When? Not if?"

"It's a lock because I'm vouching for you. That is what led Mr. Matheson to say that you become my responsibility, and it's my butt in the sling if you don't work out."

"Hang on! If they don't like me or whatever, it hurts you?"

"Yes. Not in the sense that I'll be fired or anything like that, but it does mean my recommendations for hiring will carry less weight and more than one problem, and my recommendations would carry zero weight. That's what I did with Jack when I moved up. I'm as confident in you as I am in Jack."

"So," Bianca said with a smirk, "if there's another staff reduction like the one eighteen months ago, you'll have to decide whether to lay me or Jack off?"

I laughed so hard my sides hurt, and tears formed in my eyes.

"Did you just think of that?" I asked about a minute later when I'd regained some semblance of composure.

"No. I heard my dad tell that joke about a manager at an auto plant to some friends years ago."

"I'm going to have to remember that one!"

"You're going to need to teach me a lot more about the stock market."

"I will, along with foreign exchange, precious metals, and fixed income. Tony and Joel will help bring you up to speed because they'll need analysis as well. Tony is the equities, or stock, analyst, and Joel is the fixed income, or bond, analyst. I handle currencies, precious metals, and commodities, as well as related things such as interest rates, government securities, central banking, and so on.

"Your job will be to create spreadsheets and computer programs to help us analyze historical trends and use them to try to predict the future. A perfect example is the spreadsheet formulas you helped me to create that compare the precious metal price spreads and volumes. There are more complicated things we do by hand, and some things we basically have to go with our guts because we don't have any tools that would let us complete analysis in a reasonable time."

"They'll have to spend money on the software."

"We easily made back what was spent on my two computers," I said. "And even if what you need costs ten times as much, we'll make the money back without any trouble."

"You said you had a bad month last month."

"Where for us 'bad' means only beating the street by a few percentage points. In the twelve years, Spurgeon has existed, they've had 'down' quarters but have beaten the Street every year."

"When you say 'down', you mean they lost money?"

"It's better to say that the aggregate value of the positions they managed decreased in value during the quarter. You don't actually lose money in the market unless you sell for less than you buy. You might hear the phrase 'paper losses', which is used to report that the value of an instrument has decreased below the purchase price.

"As an example, say I own a thousand shares of XYZ Corp that I bought for $100 per share. If the price per share drops to $80, my holdings are only worth $80,000. I haven't actually lost anything, but it's reported as a $20,000 paper loss. The flip side is that if the price goes to $120, I have $20,000 in unrealized gains. Taxes are only paid on realized gains, that is when the instrument is sold."

"The TV and radio act as if it's actual losses when they report some major event."

"TV and radio aren't exactly reliable sources of information about the stock market! Heck, the only truly reliable thing on the news is the scores in the sports report! Literally everything else, including weather reports, is simply opinion. They pretend they are reporting facts, but I learned in High School that which facts you report and how you interpret those facts can easily affect popular belief."

"Propaganda?" Bianca suggested.

"My history teacher in High School compared it to that but said that 'propaganda' was usually about government writing or speech, not speech or writing by private companies or individuals. But in the end, what Walter Jacobson or Dan Rather say is their opinion or the opinion of their news organization. The example my teacher gave was the Tet Offensive, which was a serious military defeat for North Viet Nam, but was portrayed by the US media in a way which changed attitudes on the war."

"Actually," Bianca said, "I heard something similar, though it was along the lines that the Tet Offensive was militarily unsuccessful, but undermined the US government propaganda about the war in Viet Nam."

"I think we're saying similar things, just in slightly different ways. But I think it demonstrates the point -- reporting it accurately as a military victory for the US and South Viet Nam wouldn't have undermined the US government position. Instead, reporting it for the fact that it caught the US mostly unprepared did undermine the US government position."

"Sorry to interrupt the conversation, but I should order the pizzas. I also see the mailman on the porch."

"I'll get the mail," I offered.

I went to the front porch and got the mail from the box - the electric bill, my Amex statement, four cards with the address in calligraphy, and some junk mail. I opened the card addressed to me and saw it was my invitation to Shelly's wedding. The other three were addressed to Keiko, Bianca, and Deanna.

"We received invitations to Shelly's wedding," I said when I went to the kitchen.

I put Deanna's and Keiko's cards in the mail basket and handed Bianca's to her, then took the two bills up to my room. I intended to check on Keiko, but her door was closed, so I didn't knock on the chance she was napping. I went back downstairs and went to the front room to sit with Bianca, who had turned on the boombox to a jazz station.

"Did you check on Keiko?" Bianca asked.

"Her door was closed, so I assumed she was napping and didn't bother her. If she doesn't come down before the pizzas arrive, I'll knock then. What time did you tell the girls?"

"They can show up at any time, and the pizzas will be here around 6:30pm. We should probably go to the video store."

"Why don't you go and pick something. I'm going to stay here in case Keiko needs something. I know I can't be here twenty-four by seven, but I think I should be here."

"OK. I'll head out."

"And I'll read The Economist."

Bianca left, and I pulled out my magazine and read while Bianca was out. She returned with a pair of movies -- Blade Runner and Tron.

"Two Sci-Fi movies?" I asked.

"All the girls are cool with Sci-Fi. And the selection is somewhat limited. More movies are being released on VHS every year, but not even close to the rate that feature films are produced."

"I think that will change because the economics are there. And if they can get the cost of projection TVs down and the quality up, you could have a decent movie experience at home. Our basement is a perfect example, though the projector is a bit washed out compared to a regular movie projector."

"You'd need better resolution, too, which is what I suspect you mean by 'quality'. More pixels per inch, which gives you higher definition pictures. They're working on higher definition screens for computers, but changing the TV standard is a long way off, mainly because everything is analog, and you'd have to switch to digital. Do you know the difference?"

"Sending modulated frequencies or amplitudes versus sending digital bits?"

"Very good!" Bianca exclaimed. "You win a cookie!"

"I read an article recently about modems that explained 'encoding' and mentioned why you would do that to transmit 'binary' data."

"You know more than you think you do!"

"No, I know the buzzwords and some applications of technology. I have no idea how to make computers do those things. That will be YOUR job. Something Jeri said really makes a lot of sense -- you do the things you're good at and hire people to do everything else. That's why I arranged for landscapers to install the flower beds around the house."

"That makes sense, if you can afford it."

"I can, though with what I spent today, plus what the hot tub and fire pit are likely to cost, my liquidity is impacted significantly for a few months. I don't want to tap into my savings nor take money out of the investment fund, so I need to be somewhat careful with anything I spend in the next few months."

"I think you're doing a good thing. Keiko is going to need a lot of support."

"For sure," I agreed.

"I did tell the girls there wouldn't be any games tonight, just a relaxing evening. I wouldn't be surprised if one of them offers to stay."

"We'll see," I replied. "I assume Juliette is spending the night?"

"Yes. She's begun moving her stuff into my room. She'll formally move in the day after her final exam. Do you know when CeCi is supposed to be here?"

"Mid-June, per Deanna."

"No change on Saint Martin as yet, right?"

"Right. We have to wait to see what the doctor says on Monday and then how Keiko responds to the treatment."

The doorbell rang and Bianca went to let the girls in, and I was happy to see Keiko come downstairs. The six of us hung out in the front room until the pizzas arrived. We ate in the dining room, then popped popcorn and sat down to watch the movies. We opted for Tron first, as it was shorter, and Keiko decided she could stay up long enough to watch it. She cuddled next to me during the movie, and when it finished, I walked her up to her room.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" I asked.

"No, I just need to sleep. Go enjoy the movie."

I hugged and kissed her, and once she was in her room, I used the bathroom, then returned to the great room to watch Blade Runner with the other girls.

"Do you mind if I sit next to you?" Josie asked.

"Not at all."

She sat down, and when the movie started, she snuggled close. Not wanting to be cold, I put my arm around her, and we sat that way through the long movie. I wasn't surprised that when the movie ended, Josie offered to spend the night. The entire situation with Keiko had me out of sorts and confused me, so I decided it was best that the girls should go back to their dorms. Josie wasn't upset, gave me a quick kiss, and said she'd see me on Friday, as I'd asked her out before Keiko's diagnosis.

After they left, I went upstairs, and Deanna, who had arrived home about thirty minutes previous, came down from her combination bedroom/studio and came to the door of my room.

"I didn't want to disturb you during the movie; how is Keiko doing?"

"She actually joined us for pizza and watched the first movie with us, then went to bed. I think being at the nursery today really tired her out."

"Can I come in and talk for a minute?"

"Sure."

She came into my room and sat down on the bed, and I could tell something was wrong.

"What's bugging you?" I asked.

"I'm really worried about Keiko," Deanna said.

"Me, too. The doctor was cautiously optimistic, but I have no illusions that it's going to be easy for Keiko or that we're guaranteed a positive outcome. All we can really do is trust the doctors to do everything they can and support Keiko however we can."

"There was a girl in my High School diagnosed with leukemia. One day, she was feeling tired and dizzy, and about a month later, she died."

"The doctor made the point that people in Keiko's situation have a 70% five-year survival rate. Granted, we need to know the results of the tests she had on Friday, but those are pretty good odds. I think what I'm trying to say is that the rest of us should be as positive as possible."

"Easier said than done," Deanna said.

"Not to be a jerk, but we're not the ones who are going to have chemotherapy."

"Do you know how bad that can be?"

"I've heard, but the alternative is dying, so unless it was totally hopeless, I'd take the chemo, so I had a fighting chance."

"Me, too, I...sorry, I'm being a total Gloomy Gus."

"And I totally understand. I'm not exactly in the best spirits right now."

"I was surprised Josie didn't stay."

"She offered, but I wasn't really in the mood."

"Would you be OK with me sleeping in your bed with you? Just sleeping, no fooling around."

I considered how upset Deanna was and decided that I could provide emotional support, even if I wasn't an emotional person.

"Sure."

May 22, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Deanna and I were up relatively early on Sunday morning, not even having exchanged a kiss and having taken individual showers. We went downstairs to make breakfast and were joined by Bianca and Juliette almost immediately. Jack and Kristy came in about ten minutes later.

"Has anyone seen Keiko this morning?" Kristy asked.

"No," I replied. "I was going to knock on her door once breakfast is ready. She was pretty wiped out from our trip to the nursery yesterday. She did have dinner and watched a movie with us."

"My dad knows a doctor at Mayo Clinic if that will help," she said.

"Thanks. We'll see what Doctor Morrison says on Monday."

Keiko did come down just before breakfast was ready and didn't seem quite as tired. I felt she should avoid exertion, though with exams coming up, that would be a serious challenge. After breakfast, Jack and Kristy offered to clean up, and I went up to Keiko's room with her.

"Given how tired you were after our trip to the nursery, you should probably just relax as much as possible," I said. "And you should see about taking your exams over the next two weeks rather than take them the final week. That's especially important if you start chemo this week."

"I actually scheduled my first exam for tomorrow morning," Keiko said. "And one for Thursday. My English class doesn't have a final, just a paper which I've almost finished."

"Good. Just take it easy today and let me know if you need anything at all."

"I'll bring my books downstairs to the front room."

"Which exam is tomorrow?"

"The second half of European history, which is basically from the English Civil War through the decolonization of Africa. I finished the final paper, so I'm studying for the exam."

"OK. Would you like tea?"

"Lemon ginseng, please."

"And may I carry your books for you?" I asked.

"I think I can manage."

She gathered her books and notebooks, and we went downstairs. She went to the front room while I went to the kitchen to prepare a pot of tea. Ten minutes later, I took it to the front room and poured some for each of us. I picked up Crain's and began reading while Keiko studied, but I had a hard time focusing because, despite my reassurances to Deanna the night before, I was very worried about Keiko.

I spent the morning and afternoon with Keiko, then, at Keiko's insistence, left for my date with Teri. I picked her up and drove the short distance to Greek Town, where we went to Parthenon. After we ordered, I explained why I'd had to cancel our date the previous Sunday. Teri was shocked, as all of us had been, and asked a few questions, but I was careful what I shared. We had a nice meal, and then I took her home, promising to talk to her during the week at class.

At home, Keiko accepted my offer to sleep in my bed with me, and despite it being much earlier than usual from my bedtime, I went up with her at 9:00pm. She snuggled close and fell asleep almost right away, but the combination of the early hour and the turmoil in my mind kept me awake for some time.

May 23, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Monday was a busy day at Spurgeon, which was a good thing, as it helped keep me from obsessing about the report we were expecting from the oncologist. Marcus called just after lunch to discuss the estimate and faxed me a copy. It was in a range I could afford, and based on my promise to Keiko, I signed it and faxed it back. Because of the previous relationship with Spurgeon, Gerald Brown juggled some jobs and could commit to installing the deck, hot tub, and fire pit starting June 13th and finishing June 24th.

The call from Keiko finally came at 4:30pm.

"I have an appointment tomorrow at 1:00pm," she said. "Are you able to come with me?"

That meant changing my lunch with Marcia, but I'd do it, and Marcia would understand.

"Yes. What did the doctor say?"

"He'll discuss the details at the appointment. He's going to give me a transfusion, which should help with the anemia and fatigue, and discuss starting chemo."

"Let me go speak to Personnel right now, but assume I'll meet you at the hospital. Can you drive yourself there and back?"

"Shelly offered to drive me."

"OK. I'll see you tonight."

"I'll probably be in bed when you get home."

"Then I'll call you as soon as I speak to Mrs. Peterson."

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, then dialed the Personnel office and asked to see Mrs. Peterson. She was available, so I went up to her office on 30. I explained the situation and asked what my options were.

"We really don't have a policy that would apply," Mrs. Peterson said. "Normally, vacation has to be taken in increments of full days, and sick time in increments of half days. And sick days are supposed to be for you being sick or for caring your children. I'm positive you know the environment here, so that doesn't come up very often."

Because the Suits, as I still thought of most of my co-workers, were all Type A men, and most of their wives didn't work. The female staff members were, almost invariably, young, unmarried women who didn't have children to care for. In fact, the only exception of which I was aware was Mrs. Peterson, who had two kids in their twenties.

"So what can I do?"

"If you work something out with Mr. Matheson, I'll endorse it. You're salaried, not hourly, and most of your work is such that, if, for example, you came in at 5:00am and worked until 2:00pm or 3:00pm, it wouldn't really impact your job performance."

I quickly considered and decided that was something I could easily do, as going to bed early on nights before I worked wouldn't bother me in the least, and there were only two weeks of classes remaining.

"I'm going to propose that to Mr. Matheson," I said. "What about tomorrow?"

"Take a half-day of sick time. I'll allow that for this special circumstance."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. On another topic, I spoke to your friend, Bianca Pérez, and she's coming in on Thursday for interviews. I'll have the memo out tomorrow."

"Great!"

"Good luck with your friend."

"Thanks."

I left and went back to 29 and asked Mia if I could see Mr. Matheson and she had me go right in. I explained the situation and asked if he'd allow me to work on the schedule that Mrs. Peterson had suggested.

"I think that will work," he said. "Let's try it starting tomorrow, and you can forget about the sick day, as you'll put in seven-and-half hours before you have to leave. We'll evaluate next week if it's working."

"If you're OK with me only doing that as necessary, I'd work normal hours most days."

"Either way works for me. Just let Anna know before you go home which hours you'll work the following day."

"I really appreciate it. Mrs. Peterson also let me know that Bianca's interviews are set for Thursday afternoon. You'll get the memo in the morning."

"Remember, she's your responsibility."

"I remember. And I won't let you down."

XLIX. The Long Struggle Begins

May 24, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Tuesday, I began my new schedule, which created a minor inconvenience for Jack, as he'd have to take the L or UP/North to get to work rather than ride with me. Arriving two hours early didn't change much, though I'd made a second fresh pot of coffee at 7:00am, as I knew Matheson, Monroe, and Foulks expected a fresh pot.

I ate lunch at my desk while doing research, and after double-checking with Mr. Matheson and letting Anna know that I would be in at 5:00am on Wednesday, I left the office at 12:30pm and headed to Rush-Presbyterian Hospital to meet Keiko. Shelly was with her, and at 1:00pm, Keiko and I were invited into Doctor Morrison's office.

"From our previous interactions," he said, "I feel you're both straight shooters and can handle me being direct."

I looked to Keiko, who nodded.

"Just give it to us straight, please," I said. "But in layman's terms."

Doctor Morrison nodded, "Keiko, as soon as we're done here, you'll have a blood transfusion, as we discussed. That will help with your anemia by replacing the red blood cells that your body isn't making as it should. It should reduce your fatigue and make you feel better. Most likely, we'll need to do it again, but we have to balance the benefits with the risks of long-term transfusion therapy.

"The next step will be what's called 'induction chemotherapy', which is a course of intravenous drugs, mainly cytosine arabinoside. It has some potentially serious side effects, the most common of which are nausea, diarrhea, weakness, rash, fever, susceptibility to infections, dry eyes, and hair loss. The treatment takes a week, and you'll be hospitalized during that time.

"In addition to the chemotherapy drugs, you'll receive intensive supportive care, including transfusions of red blood cells and platelets, as well as antibiotics. Because the side effects are so severe, you may be in the hospital for as long as five weeks. The criteria for discharging you are acceptable blood counts and normal bowel function. At around four weeks, we'll do another bone marrow biopsy to see if a complete remission has been achieved."

"I have to stay in the hospital for a month?" she asked.

"It would be nearly impossible for anyone to care for you properly at home."

"OK," she sighed. "Then what?"

"It will depend on the outcome, but the next phase is the consolidation phase, which is a series of regular treatments to eliminate any remaining cancer. It's possible for that to be outpatient, but I can't say at this time because it will depend on the results of the induction phase. The worst-case scenario would be another four to five weeks in the hospital. After that, again, depending on the results, there may be a maintenance phase where very low doses are given for an extended period. That is always done outpatient.

"Now, for the more troubling aspect. I did find some evidence of malformed cells in your spinal fluid. That is not a good sign, but it is treatable. The challenge is that chemotherapy drugs administered by IV cannot address the central nervous system, so we'd need to do intrathecal chemotherapy as well. Given what I've seen, induction should be sufficient to address that, and it's done by a procedure similar to the lumbar puncture you had."

"How does that change the prognosis?" Keiko asked.

"It's not a positive sign, as I said, but young people with this kind of involvement respond very well to chemo."

"Numbers, please," I requested.

"Please understand this is highly speculative, but the five-year survival rate is about 50%. And with this type of cancer, in most cases, that means cured."

"And without treatment?" Keiko asked.

"You'll die," Doctor Morrison said. "I can't say when, as I need to see the progression of your cancer, but a year, eighteen months at the most. You'll be weak, sick, and unable to function for most of that time. With chemo, you'll have a few bad weeks, perhaps as many as six, then be able to go about your life. This is one of those situations where your quality of life would quickly deteriorate and would be as bad, if not worse, than chemo, but with no hope of survival."

"I wasn't considering not having the treatment," Keiko countered, "just comparing life expectancy."

"Pure five-year numbers for your friend -- zero with no treatment, 50% with treatment."

"Thank you," I said.

"When would we begin the chemo?" Keiko asked.

"In a few days. That allows the blood we'll give you today to make you stronger. We can put in the IV port today, which will save time, as I understand your friend is taking time off work."

"IV port?" Keiko asked.

"We don't want to have to insert an IV every time we do chemo, so we'll insert something called a Hickman line, which is a central venous catheter. Think of it as a permanent IV but in your upper chest. We'll use what's called a triple-lumen catheter, meaning it has three tubes and a valve that prevents blood from flowing out.

"As I said, you'll be on a continuous IV for a week, with varying chemotherapy drugs and other supportive drugs. On your first day, they'll put in the catheter for the intrathecal treatment, which we can't do in advance. During your treatment, you can read, watch TV, listen to a Walkman, or just relax, or even sleep."

"When do the side effects start?"

"It varies by person, but within twenty-four hours, the first effects can be felt. You'll be monitored constantly and have blood drawn daily, at least."

"Is it possible to start it on Saturday?" Keiko asked. "That way, I can complete my exams."

"I can write that order, yes. Friday would be the soonest, anyway. I'll call and set it up while you receive the transfusion. You'll be receiving packed red cells, and it'll take about an hour from start to finish. Do you have any further questions?"

"Am I able to visit her while she's having her chemo?" I asked.

"Yes, of course, though in order to protect her from infections, we'll have you wear a mask in her room. The visiting hours for chemo patients are very liberal. Keiko, any further questions?"

"Not at the moment. I'm sure I'll have some."

"You have my number, and on Saturday, they'll give you contact information for the chemotherapy staff. There is an experienced nurse available to take calls round-the-clock every day of the year. She'll be able to answer most of your questions and help you with just about anything you need, including putting you in touch with doctors and counselors."

"Keiko," I interjected, "you should get something for Loyola, as you'll need to take your other two exams by Friday, so you don't have to take 'Incomplete' status."

"I can provide you with a healthcare letter," Doctor Williams said. "I've done that for Loyola students before, and the school is very accommodating. Would you like me to do that?"

"I'd appreciate it," Keiko replied.

"Any other questions?"

"Not unless Jonathan has some."

"Not at this time," I said.

"Then, if you'll have a seat in the waiting room, a nurse will call you and set up the transfusion. I'll see you when that's completed, and a surgeon will insert the IV port."

"Surgeon?" Keiko inquired.

"If a scalpel is involved in any way, shape, or form, a surgeon does the procedure per hospital policy. I'll be there, but Doctor Karev will perform the procedure under a local."

"Thank you, Doctor," Keiko said.

"Thank you," I added.

We left his office and went back to the waiting room where Shelly was sitting.

"Done?" she asked.

"No," Keiko replied, "that was just the information meeting. A nurse will call me for the transfusion."

"Did you find out about chemo?"

"Yes," Keiko replied, then explained what we knew so far.

About ten minutes later, a nurse called Keiko, so she and I got up, then followed the nurse to a treatment room. Keiko's vitals were checked, then the nurse set up the IV, inserted the needle into Keiko's arm, injected saline, then put a bag of red blood cells on the hook and connected it to the IV line. She waited about five minutes to monitor the IV, and once she was satisfied, she left Keiko and me in the room.

"How are you feeling?" I asked. "I mean mentally and emotionally?"

"Not too hot, as I'm sure you can imagine."

"Yes and no," I replied. "I mean, I know you're under tremendous stress, but I've never been in a situation even remotely like this one. I think I'm going to postpone the trip to Saint Martin because if I understand Doctor Morrison correctly, you're not going to be in any shape to go, and I don't want to go without you."

"It's OK if you want to go, Jonathan."

"I understand, but let's focus on you, please. Do you think you'll be able to take your exams on Friday?"

"I think so. I had my history final this morning, and I'm positive I did well. I have my political science final scheduled for Thursday, and I've finished my paper for English. That leaves French and Principles of Finance, both of which I'm ready for. As soon as we're done here, I'll call my advisor and let her know we'll drop off the letter on our way home and ask her to speak to my professors."

"OK. I plan to come see you every day, if you're up to it. You need to let me know what needs to be done while you're in the hospital. Whatever you need, I'll either do or arrange to be done."

"I feel as if I'm a burden to you."

"Except for asking me to be with you at your appointments, you haven't asked me for a thing! I'm doing these things because I want to do them because I care for you."

"Thank you," she said with a smile. "Will you promise me one thing?"

"If it's in my power to do so, yes."

Keiko laughed softly, "And this is where I tease you and ask for an engagement ring!"

"You know that's not out of the question, right?"

"Let's not do anything foolish simply because we've encountered an unforeseen situation. What I was going to ask you to promise is to not give up your life completely. You need to see your friends, including Jack, Bev, and Violet, and people like Jeri and Marcia, who you need for your career. Promise, please."

"I promise, though I reserve the right to decide the proper balance of time."

"Which is like making no promise at all! I know how precise you are with your agreements and promises! Make a real promise, please."

"I promise not to completely neglect my friends and associates. That means, by the way, going to dinner tonight at Jeri's."

"And bringing Allyson home?" Keiko asked with a sly smile.

"Does that bother you? Serious answer, please."

"My opinion hasn't changed -- until we agree to a shared future, I don't have a problem with it. And, all teasing aside until you and Bianca decide it's time to have a baby, something I agreed to, you can't be monogamous. I know I could make an exception, but making an exception seems like a very bad idea, even though I trust you to keep your word. I also heard from Ellie that she's planning an end-of-the-semester party, which I suspect you want to attend."

"Not if it hurts you," I replied. "And timing with Bianca might change, too, given she's very likely to go to work for Spurgeon full-time in a few weeks."

"Deanna mentioned that this morning. Ellie is going to be positively green with envy!"

"Ellie should finish her degree," I replied. "Computers are a special circumstance at the moment, and there are plenty of jobs for people even without a degree. Bianca is going to continue working on her degree, and there are good fallbacks for her if she needs them. Ellie wants to become licensed, and that's a different situation altogether. Her risk profile and mine are very, very different."

"Did you know she's dating?"

"Yes, which is why she wasn't at the house on Saturday evening. She and I never clicked the way you and I have."

"And you and Bianca and Deanna."

"Bianca likes girls too much to enter into a traditional relationship, and even though I've considered what she's suggested, I still think a traditional family situation suits me better. Deanna wants a patron, and sex is part of the deal in her mind. I can be her patron without that, and she'll find another guy, perhaps even fall in love."

Keiko laughed softly, "She loves you, Jonathan, and so does Bianca. And so do I."

"Well," I said with a silly grin, "you could always sign up for Bianca's plan!"

Keiko smiled, "Ellie actually said she'd sign up for that!"

"She made that clear, but you won't, so it doesn't matter. May I say something without you freaking out?"

"You're asking the girl who was just diagnosed with cancer and told she has a 50/50 chance of being alive in five years if she'll 'freak out' over something about our relationship?"

"Point taken," I replied. "I don't want to lose you, and if that means telling Bianca I can't fulfill her wishes, I will. I've made mistakes in that way before, and I'm completely serious when I say I'll marry you right away if that's what you want."

"What I want is for you to help me get through this. Don't change anything until we know more. At work, would you even consider betting literally everything on a 50/50 chance without hedging your bets?"

"No," I admitted.

"Then don't do that in life. That said, if you ask, I'll say 'yes'. I just prefer you don't ask until we know more. OK?"

"OK."

"And that means you keep your date with Allyson tonight."

"Actually, we just play it by ear," I replied.

Keiko rolled her eyes, "And yet, you both know that's what you want and therefore, it'll happen."

"True."

"Seriously, Jonathan. Keep living your life, see what happens, think it through, and ask if it's truly what's best for you."

"A Shinto wedding?" I asked.

"My grandfather would be beside himself with joy. Would you do that?"

"So long as it didn't involve any promises similar to what my Catholic friends have said, sure."

"No. As we discussed, honoring the «kami» is sufficient, and the way you put it would pass muster with any Buddhist monk or Shinto priest. It's very different from the typical Christian view. But that's a bridge we'll cross in the future if we come to it."

"May I make a suggestion?" I inquired.

"Yes, of course."

"We both know the possible outcomes, and I think it's better to focus on the positive and act as if that is what will happen until there is incontrovertible proof that it won't."

Keiko laughed softly, "That is such a Jonathan thing to say! Most people would say 'focus on the positive' and leave it at that."

I nodded, "I can only be me."

The nurse came in to check Keiko's vitals, including her temperature.

"May I ask what you're concerned about?" I inquired.

"Mainly hemolysis or an allergic reaction," the nurse said. "Both are reactions of your body to foreign blood. Blood typing and cross-matching prevent most of those types of reactions, but not all. So long as Keiko doesn't spike a fever or show significant changes in her breathing or blood pressure, there's nothing to worry about. The doctor will go over this when he comes in, but she should check her temperature a few times a day for the next week, as a fever is the first sign of a delayed reaction."

We'd need to get a thermometer, as I didn't have one in the house and doubted anyone else did. I made a mental note to stop at Osco on the way home for one. The nurse was satisfied with Keiko's vital signs and left the room.

"When the doctor spoke to you about the transfusion," I asked, "did he say how long it would take for you to feel better?"

"He said things would start improving right away," Keiko replied. "I actually feel as if I have a bit more energy even after twenty minutes. Did you get enough sleep last night?"

"I'll be OK," I said. "I can make it on very little sleep if necessary."

"You have to take care of yourself, or you won't be in any state to care for me."

"I will, and I'm positive Bianca will be on my case if I don't. I know we have time, but I should plan for you to come home and figure out what we need. I was thinking an intercom system. I saw in the Trib that RadioShack has one that has four units that we could spread around the house. That way, if you have trouble negotiating the stairs, you can use the intercom to call one of us. We also should check on what medical supplies we might need."

"A box of airline barf bags?" Keiko said with a smile.

"I wonder if Osco has something like that? Or we can ask Doctor Morrison. In the worst case, a bucket. We should also ask about food restrictions. I'm going to guess spicy food will be out of the question even after you come home."

"I don't think wasabi will be on the menu, that's for sure!"

"What's wasabi?"

"I've heard it called Japanese horseradish, but it's not the same as what we have in the US. It's really hard to find in the US, except in specialty stores and restaurants in San Francisco. It's used in sushi and also as a way to spice roasted nuts."

"Except at your grandparents' house, I don't believe I've had Japanese food, and what they served was soup, rice, fish, and vegetables."

"That's a very typical Japanese meal. In fact, a Japanese breakfast would consist of basically those things, rather than the Western breakfasts we eat."

"What about your parents?"

"A mix. Mom prefers Japanese food, but Dad loves hamburgers, pizza, and other typical food. When he was in High School, he mostly preferred to eat the way his friends did. My mom has pushed him back to more Japanese foods, but he likes his beef on the grill as much as you and your friends do!"

"I noticed your grandfather says a specific phrase before the family begins to eat. Is that a prayer?"

"Not exactly. He says "«いただきます» (Itadakimasu), which means 'I humbly receive'."

"That's actually something I could say, even as an atheist. Being grateful for food on the table has real meaning to me, even if I don't want to thank some random deity for it."

"You struggled with having enough food growing up?"

"It was a close thing at times, but I never missed a meal. I think my mom may have eaten less than she should have at times, but we managed to supplement with food from our garden as well as rabbit and deer."

"Which you shot?"

"Yes. I'm sorry if that bothers you."

"It doesn't. I wouldn't mention it to a Buddhist monk if you meet one, though."

"Well, unless they're strict vegetarians, somebody, somewhere, kills the animal that provides the meat!"

"Some are strict vegetarians, though in Japan, the limit was only on red meat. Some will eat only fish, others will also eat chicken. There are schools of thought in Buddhism just as there are in Christianity and Islam, and they don't all agree."

"That is one of my main arguments against anyone who claims to represent any god because they all tell contradictory stories and have mutually exclusive rules and claims. I know there's a group that has a temple here in Chicago that tries to syncretize all the faiths, but I'm not sure how that could possibly work."

"I think you're referring to Baháʼí. You should see their temple in Wilmette if you have a chance. It's gorgeous. If I recall correctly, they teach that all faiths have value and that humanity ought to be united."

"I can get behind the 'united' part, but all those religions divide rather than unify."

"Having studied history, I can't disagree with you on that. I do think your views are most compatible with Buddhism, and there are schools in Buddhism that reject the notion of an individual or personal deity."

"How are you doing?" the nurse asked as she came into the room.

"I feel fine," Keiko replied. "And actually a bit better than when I came in."

"That's the goal! I need to take your vitals."

She did, and finding nothing amiss, she left, saying she'd return in about ten minutes when the IV bag would be empty. Keiko and I sat quietly, and as promised, the nurse returned ten minutes later to remove the IV. Once she'd done that, she instructed Keiko to put on a gown, though she could keep her panties on this time. She left, I helped Keiko change, and a few minutes later, Doctor Morrison came in with another doctor and a nurse.

"Keiko, this is Doctor Karev, a surgeon," Doctor Morrison said. "Alex, this is Keiko and her friend Jonathan."

"Hi," Doctor Karev said. "I'm going to do a minor procedure to insert a triple-lumen central line catheter. It's a simple procedure and is done under a local. Your friend will need to step out or put on surgical scrubs, a cap, and a mask."

"Would you, Jonathan?"

"Whatever you want," I said.

"Wise response!" the new nurse said. "Come with me, and we'll get you in proper clothes and take you to the outpatient procedure room. They'll move your friend there in a wheelchair."

I left the room with the nurse and she took me to a locker room, handed me some scrubs, then stepped out. I quickly changed into them, put my clothes into an empty locker, closed the lock, and pocketed the key. She tied a surgical cap on me, then put a mask around my face. Properly clad, she led me to a procedure room where Keiko was on a treatment table.

The nurse left, and a few minutes later, the team returned in scrubs, without medical coats, and with masks and caps. They all washed their hands and put on gloves, then Doctor Karev administered a local anesthetic, and the nurse applied an antiseptic solution. Just under ten minutes later, I watched in fascination as Doctor Karev made two incisions, inserted the catheter, and then stitched it in place. Once that was done, the nurse wiped away the minimal amount of blood, then taped gauze into place.

"Keep this dry," Doctor Karev said. "You can bathe, but don't shower. They'll check it for you on Saturday. Take Advil for any discomfort. Any questions for me?"

"No," Keiko said.

"Good luck," Doctor Karev said, then left the room.

"Your appointment is for 8:00am on Saturday at the cancer center on this floor," Doctor Morrison said. "It's down the hall from the waiting room. You should arrive about fifteen minutes early to complete some additional paperwork. They'll get you situated and begin the therapy. You can have someone with you during that time."

"I'll be with her," I said. "And I'll stay as long as they'll let me."

"Good. In some cases, they've been known to allow spouses or parents to sleep in the room in a recliner. I'm not sure they'll allow that for a boyfriend, but you can ask. Just be very polite when you ask."

"OK."

"Keiko, I have your letter and about thirty pages of information that covers every aspect of your chemo, along with all the possible side effects and what we'll do about them."

"We wondered about things we might need when she comes home," I said.

"Let's wait on that. The nurses will go through everything a few days before Keiko is released. A lot will depend on how she's feeling and what side effects she might be having at that point."

"OK," I replied.

"Doctor, will you be there on Saturday?" Keiko asked.

"Normally, I don't work on Saturdays, but how about I meet you at 8:00am to get you started? The nurses and technicians there are very good, and of course, there is always a doctor immediately available."

"Thank you."

"One last thing -- take your temperature every few hours for the next two days. If you spike a fever over 100°F, get to the hospital right away to be checked. Either call an ambulance or have someone bring you. Other than that, I think you're all set. On the paperwork the nurse will give you is my twenty-four-hour phone number. Call it any time, and my service will page me. Jonathan, it was a pleasure to meet you."

He extended his hand, and I shook it.

"The nurse will take you to the locker room, and you can meet Keiko in the waiting room. She needs to be taken out in a wheelchair per hospital policy."

"OK."

I left the room with the nurse, who escorted me back to the locker room. She waited in the corridor while I changed, then escorted me to the waiting room where Shelly was sitting.

"Thanks for waiting," I said.

"I was studying and doing homework, so no problem. Are you taking Keiko home, or am I?"

"You, I think. I need to make a few stops. I want to get an intercom setup from RadioShack, and we need a few other things from Osco. Keiko's first chemo is on Saturday, basically all day."

"Ugh. How is she?"

"OK. She perked up a bit from the transfusion, and they put in the permanent IV port. She has three tubes basically hanging from a valve in her upper chest."

"How long do those stay in?"

"I didn't ask, but I assume, at least through what they called the consolidation phase of the chemo. What's starting on Saturday is the induction phase, which is basically a maximum dose of chemo for seven days. Then, when she recovers, which is in the hospital for four weeks or so, she comes home. At some point after that, the next phase starts with lower doses on a regular schedule. Eventually, it goes to much lower doses and hopefully to zero. But that could take years."

"Ugh."

"Yeah. Mind if I ask a question that might not be any of my business?"

"I don't mind," Shelly said with a smile.

"How did your parents react to your news?" I inquired.

"I'm marrying a doctor, so what could they really say?" she asked with a soft laugh. "Though my mom did take me aside and ask if I was pregnant."

"A logical, if somewhat offensive, question."

"You didn't think that?"

"It didn't even cross my mind."

"You must be the only one on the planet because nearly every friend asked that question."

"People worry far too much about what other people are doing and why. With Perry's work schedule, are you guys going to be able to take a honeymoon?"

"Maybe a year from now when he has his first vacation. He can't take any time off before June next year."

"Crazy."

"How did your new hours work?" Shelly asked.

"When I need to, I can show up at 5:00am. That's actually good because with nobody except Rich and Mark, the overnight traders, in the office, I can get more done. Mostly nothing that happens after 2:00pm matters until the next day for me. The traders have to make gut calls on big news with no analysis. How well you can do that is what makes or breaks you. Get caught with the market moving the wrong way or make the wrong decision, and you can lose millions in seconds."

"I'm not sure I could handle the stress! How do you?"

"My job isn't particularly stressful, and I have time to do analysis and make recommendations. What stress I do have is easily relieved by playing baseball!"

Shelly laughed, "I believe it!"

A nurse wheeled Keiko out and, per hospital policy, had to wheel her to the hospital doors. After a quick discussion, we agreed Keiko would go home with Shelly, and I would make the stops at RadioShack and Osco. I completed the errands and arrived home about an hour after the girls. That gave me just enough time to shower before leaving for Jeri's house for our monthly dinner.

I had a good time at Jeri's, and as usual, at the end of the evening, Allyson offered to come home with me.

"Unfortunately, I have to be up at 4:00am tomorrow," I said.

"Ugh. Why?"

"I wasn't sure what would happen at Keiko's appointment yesterday, so when I left the office, I said I'd start at 5:00am instead of 7:00am."

"I hate to say this, but I think you should drop me at the dorm."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. We were all totally shocked by Keiko's diagnosis, and I'm glad you're there for her. I can't even imagine what she's going through."

"Mentally now," I replied. "Physically after Saturday. I've heard all manner of horror stories about chemo."

"Me, too. Radiation is pretty bad, too."

I dropped Allyson at her dorm, then headed home. I wasn't surprised when Bianca offered to join me in bed, saying she'd go to her own bed when I woke up at 4:00am.

May 25, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Because of my new schedule, I had time on Wednesday to go home before going to class. Keiko was home and sitting in the front room, studying.

"How are you doing?"

"I feel better than I have in at least two weeks."

"The transfusion appears to have worked," I observed.

"It does. I'll need them along the way, so it's nice to know I have more energy. There is one thing the doctor spoke to me about after you left that I wanted to tell you in private."

"What's that?"

"The chemo drug is so pervasive that it's found in every bodily fluid, including saliva and the juices you enjoy so much, that he strongly advised no intimate contact."

"I made the assumption that the side effects and how badly they said you'll feel more or less precluded that, at least for some time, and I mean after you come home."

"The duration of the chemo," she said. "At least the first two phases, so it's likely four to six months. And that means no French kissing, either."

"As much as I enjoy doing that with you, not being able to do it doesn't change how I feel about you. If, when you come home, it's OK to sleep with you, and you feel up to it, I want to keep doing that. Is sweat a problem?"

"He didn't say, but we have plenty of time to figure it out."

"True. What about your exams?"

"I'll take two tomorrow and one on Friday. I'm excused from class for the last week, with no harm to my grades."

"That's good. What happens in the Fall?"

"If I'm not up to going to class, I can skip a semester, or even two, just by asking. After that, it requires approval from the Dean, but my counselor promised that's automatic for serious health problems."

"I won't bother you further so you can study. Did you speak to your parents and grandparents?"

"Yes. They'll come visit on Sunday if I'm up for visitors besides you."

"OK. Are you going to be up for going to see the movie on Friday?"

"I'll probably feel OK, but the information they gave me said to make sure I had plenty of sleep the night before, so I think I'll just stay home given we have to leave the house around 7:00am to make sure we aren't late. You invited Josie for Friday, right?"

"Yes, though before I knew we were going out as a larger group."

"You don't need to apologize or feel guilty for doing things you were doing before my diagnosis. I know how you feel, but let's wait to see what the future brings before we change anything."

"I apologize for being apologetic!" I replied.

"Another truly Jonathan thing to say! I really do appreciate everything you're doing, and you also know how I feel. Let's get through this, then see where we are. OK?"

"OK."

"Good. Now, enjoy dinner with Violet and go to class."

We hugged, I went upstairs, changed from my suit into jeans and a polo shirt, then went back downstairs. I kissed Keiko 'goodbye' and headed to Violet's house.

"How is Keiko?" Violet asked after greeting me with a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"She actually feels better thanks to the transfusion. She'll start her chemo treatment on Saturday. It lasts a week, but she'll stay in the hospital until she recovers enough to come home, which could be five weeks."

"How are you doing?"

"OK. It's a bit overwhelming, but her doctor has explained everything in terms we can understand."

"You know I'll help you in any way I can," Violet offered.

"I know, and I appreciate it."

"Dinner is in about fifteen minutes. Could we cuddle until I have to get everything on the table?"

"Yes."

I sat down on the couch, Violet sat on my lap, drew her legs up, and snuggled close. I put my arms loosely around her, and we sat quietly for about ten minutes when a timer rang.

"I hate to get up," she said. "I feel so safe and loved sitting like that. Do married couples do that a lot?"

"I actually have no idea," I said as she stood up to walk to the kitchen. "My mom was never married and never even dated until after I moved out. Bev's parents never once, to my knowledge, did anything more than perfunctorily kiss when either she or I were around. I suppose it depends on the couple and what they both need."

"Do you like cuddling like that?" she asked as she began putting the food on the table.

"I do," I replied.

"But you'd rather do other things, right?" she asked with a slight smirk.

"Each thing has its time and its place," I replied. "I'm no expert, but it seems to me that a balanced relationship has communication and closeness, with closeness ranging from sitting in the same room together to doing what you implied."

"How often does that happen?"

"Well," I grinned as we sat down, "to hear the older, married guys at work tell it, never!"

Violet laughed, "Do you believe that?"

I shrugged, "I have zero information, so I have no way of evaluating their statements."

"And Jonathan goes into analyst mode at the drop of a hat!"

I chuckled, "Recently, several people have commented on something I've said by saying it was the 'most Jonathan way' to put something. I can only be who I am."

"What do you think?"

"Honestly? That it depends on the couple. If you're asking because you think it might be too often or not often enough, those are things to discuss before you get married. Waiting can only result in trouble. The same goes for...preferences."

"You mean what you do?"

"Yes. At this point, I'm going to suggest a conversation with Lily or Bev because I cannot answer any questions from a female perspective! I think my brain would melt if I even tried!"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because women think differently from men, and I think differently from even most men. I'm too analytical, too logical, and too emotionless to even have a clue how other guys think, let alone how women think. And that's not putting women down in any way, it's simply saying that men and women are different, and there are also differences amongst men and amongst women. In fact, I don't know any two people who think exactly alike and agree on everything."

"I doubt that's even possible unless someone just agrees no matter what."

"Saying it doesn't make it so," I replied. "I could claim to be the King of England, but that doesn't mean I am. Someone verbally agreeing doesn't mean they actually agree. What matters is their actions. I think there's even a phrase for agreeing but then doing something different."

"Passive-aggressive," Violet said. "You appear to agree but don't, and then do something obvious to show you don't."

"That's the phrase, I just couldn't remember it."

"It's not numbers or stocks, so no surprise there!" Violet teased.

"I'm not that bad," I chuckled. "But close!"

We finished our meal, cleaned up, then walked to class.

L. A Third Member of the Cadre

May 26, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Any market fallout from the earthquake and Tsunami in Japan?" I asked Rich when I arrived in the office just before 7:00am on Thursday.

"Just some minor selloffs in Asia that have mostly cleared. The tsunami hit the northwest side of Honshu, mostly the Aomori and Akita Prefectures, with a combined population of around 2.7 million out of around 120 million total in Japan. No reports of damage or casualties yet, and the tsunami also hit the eastern coast of Korea, and again, no reports of damage or casualties. London took it all in stride."

"How's the yen?"

"Still in the same range as it has been since it strengthened in January. Even the current account surplus isn't moving it. ¥237 to a buck today and ¥236 yesterday. Your analyst report is right on target that it's not going anywhere anytime soon."

"If an earthquake and tsunami can't move it, I'm not sure what would. That said, it will weaken over time. I haven't seen the signs yet, and Japanese government intervention is significant enough to prevent anyone except another central bank from attacking."

"At some point, there is no longer money to shovel," Rich said. "We just need to figure out when that's going to happen and be ahead of the curve."

"Agreed. Hey, how are you handling the interview this afternoon?"

"Same as I do the monthly trading meetings -- go home and sleep, then come back right before the meeting. I'm going last, at 4:00pm, so I'll get seven hours of sleep. My condo is only three blocks from here."

"Convenient."

I made a fresh pot of coffee, then sat down at my desk to work on my daily analyst report. As Rich had noted, the earthquake hadn't really moved the markets to any significant degree, and the conditions in the rest of the world hadn't changed materially. When I finished my report, I reviewed the material I'd sent to Thomas Hart, as I had a note on my calendar to call him on Friday morning. If I could land that business, as well as the pension fund from the Overland Park police, I'd be able to leverage those deals to make others and be well on my way to a PM role before the end of 1984.

I spent the rest of the morning researching several potentially significant situations -- Sri Lanka, the Philippines, and the Middle East -- ultimately deciding to buy put options for the Philippine peso. I worked until lunch and decided it was nice enough to eat my lunch outside. I walked to the small, out-of-the-way park I'd found the previous Summer, which allowed me to avoid any people from Spurgeon, and had a quiet, relaxing lunch.

When I returned to the office, I had a message from Personnel saying that Bianca was in the Personnel office filling out her application. About fifteen minutes later, Trish, a new clerk in Personnel, brought Bianca to our conference room. I asked Bianca about a drink and got her a Coke, as she requested.

"So how does this work, given you know me so well?" Bianca asked.

"I don't have questions for you, but I'm happy to answer questions from you."

"Who are the team members?"

"The head of the Foreign Exchange Desk, or FX Desk, is Murray Matheson, who is a Senior Vice President, actually the only Senior Vice President here. There are two senior traders, Harry Foulkes and Norman Monroe, and two overnight traders, Rich Chamberlain and Mark Sampson. They're responsible for the Asian markets, as well as the opening markets in Europe. There are three assistant brokers: Kent Vandenberg, Lee Warren, and Larry Howell, and two Portfolio Managers, Walter Dawson and Charlie Duncan. There are currently three analysts: Tony Kirov, Joel Stein, and me. And two secretaries, Anna Bergdahl and Mia Nesmith.

"The FX team manages about $1.2 billion in assets, mixed between global currencies, precious metals, mining stocks, and domestic and foreign corporate and public bonds. That's just under a third of the total assets managed by Spurgeon Capital. The rest is split between several funds, the largest of which is Spurgeon Select, with about $1.8 billion in assets, all stocks. The other funds include various mixes of assets and are usually managed on behalf of specific clients."

"So, like yours?"

"Mine is a general fund, similar to the Spurgeon Select fund, but with a fraction of the assets. I have a limited number of 'friends and family' spots, but I can add as many 'two and twenty' clients as are willing to sign up."

"Could I invest in your fund?"

"Yes, and there are no fees for Spurgeon employees. Some of your bonus has to go into the Spurgeon Select fund, and that's where the employee 401(k) is invested. The point is that we all need to have skin in the game, which is why Mr. Spurgeon has his money in the Spurgeon Select fund to the tune of $350,000,000. And $5,000,000 in my fund."

"In your fund? Why?"

"To ensure I have enough money in the fund to execute my strategy. It's his way of giving me an opportunity to prove myself. You know I've made some good calls."

"What's the workflow?"

"The three, soon to be four, analysts develop information on their asset classes and anything going on in the world which might affect them. Tony handles equities, that is, stocks; Joel handles fixed income, that is, bonds; I handle currencies, precious metals, and commodities. We each write a report every morning that details how events are likely to impact various assets and identify trading opportunities.

"The Portfolio Managers, or PMs, execute trades on behalf of their customers, usually according to very specific strategies. The traders and brokers use the information the analysts provide, as well as information they develop for themselves from their contacts and make trades. Those trades can be anything from arbitrage to hedges to long-term holds."

"Thanks. I have a much better idea of what I'm walking into now. So, besides the coke and hookers, what's the work environment like?"

I chuckled, "It's actually professional, other than the totally inappropriate relationships."

"Jonathan Kane, moral police!" Bianca teased.

"My approval, or lack thereof, is totally and completely irrelevant, so long as what's going on is truly consensual, which I'd say is not the case with the secretaries."

"I obviously agree."

"Fundamentally, if you prove your value to Spurgeon, you'll be treated very well and compensated extremely well. The benefits are awesome, too."

"I take it we don't reveal the extent of our relationship?" Bianca inquired.

"That would be best. There are no rules against it and no policy that says we have to report it, so I think it's best to keep things on the QT for now."

"That makes perfect sense to me. Speaking of that, Keiko asked if she could spend the night with you tonight, and I obviously agreed. Well, assuming you're OK with that."

"Of course. She's my top priority at the moment."

"As she should be. What's up with her parents? She deflected the question."

"Then I can't really say," I replied. "Any other questions about Spurgeon?"

"Will they spend the money necessary on computers and software?"

"Mr. Matheson can spend from his own budget, at least to a point, and he'll spend the money if you can support the request. If it goes over his budget, he'll ask me to defend it before Noel Spurgeon, which I'll do. I've done it before. I should point out that you'll do a LOT of writing here, in addition to programming. Spreadsheets and numbers only go so far; prose is very important."

"Isn't it always down to the numbers?"

"Yes, but for trades that either lead the market or are contrary to it, you need backup to keep the SEC at bay. Spurgeon makes money either by being faster or smarter than everyone else, and that attracts Imperial scrutiny!"

Bianca laughed, "The SEC as Darth Vader?"

"Fitting, given we're seeing Return of the Jedi with the gang tomorrow night. Did you see the reports on the insane line at the theatre for the premiere last night?"

"I like Star Wars, but not enough to get in line a week in advance! So how do you avoid that scrutiny?"

"You don't. I've already had an SEC inquiry, but I had all the necessary backup reports to show I didn't cheat. I've written what are called 'Analyst Notes', which are different from my morning Analyst Report and are meant to defend against charges of insider trading or other violations of the Securities Act of 1933 and the Securities Exchange Act of 1934, as amended. What I do is a combination of prognostication and defense in depth."

"What happened with the inquiry about you?"

"Spurgeon provided them with copies of my reports and notes. Per Compliance, it'll simply go away. We're under a bit of scrutiny because of a guy who was canned and then arrested for front-running his clients. The stupid part is, Spurgeon turned him in, but in the SEC's mind, one dirty guy means a firm full of dirty guys. I'd say they think Spurgeon gave them a sacrificial lamb."

"Did he?"

I shook my head, "Not from anything I've seen. Mr. Matheson made it clear I should go right up to the line but not a hair over. Rules violations are punished severely internally, and there are all sorts of controls in place to catch or prevent them. The guy who was canned was using accounts owned by family members to front-run, and the IRS asked questions of the family member. They had some sort of explanation ready for that, but the family member panicked and spilled the beans. As soon as Mr. Spurgeon was aware, he fired the guy and turned him into the SEC."

"But if the IRS knew..."

"They only care about tax fraud. At some point between when the inquiry started and they completed their investigation, Mr. Spurgeon became aware. The IRS would only refer it to the SEC once they'd extracted their pound of flesh. I've heard it called the equivalent of sibling rivalry between the agencies. Anything else?"

"No. I think I can have a reasonable conversation with your boss now. You've explained some of the trading strategies you use and some of the language."

"Fundamentally, they're going to see if they think you'll fit in, have the right personality, and won't cause any trouble."

"You mean like the female analyst who was canned?"

"Yes."

"I'm not jealous of you; I'm jealous of Keiko! Wait! That just sounds wrong given the circumstances, but I think you know what I mean -- the girl who was fired."

"I do. And while I haven't ruled out the multiparty relationship you proposed, I think my modified version is best for me."

"Which is what matters," Bianca replied.

"Let me turn you over to Mr. Matheson, and then you'll see Tony and finally Rich. Do you need another drink or the ladies'?"

"No, I'm good."

I left the conference room and went to Anna to let her know that Bianca was ready to see Mr. Matheson, then went back to my desk. Just under three hours later, the interviews were completed, and Bianca left the office. I wasn't surprised when Mr. Matheson called a quick meeting with Rich, Tony, and me to discuss Bianca.

"This is Kane's hire," Mr. Matheson said. "So unless there are objections, I'll sign the hiring form."

"None here," Rich said. "If she's as good at computers as Jonathan said, she's going to make a significant contribution."

"I concur," Tony said. "She's no Paige Jennings, either."

"And FAR easier on the eyes!" Mr. Matheson said. "It also won't hurt to have what amounts to a native Spanish speaker on the team to go along with German, French, and Japanese."

Harry Foulks spoke German, Charlie Duncan spoke French, and Rich, the overnight trader, spoke Japanese. The only major language we were missing was Chinese, but basically everyone in Hong Kong spoke excellent English, and Red China was not part of the global financial markets any more than the Soviet Union was.

"I'll sign the paperwork," Mr. Matheson continued. "Do you know when she can start, Jonathan?"

"The Monday following Exams -- June 13."

"Let her know. She'll receive a formal offer letter in the mail."

"Will do."

"Now, go find a way to make some fucking money, please! Jonathan, hang back for a second."

They left and returned to their desks, and Mr. Matheson motioned for me to shut the door, which I did.

"Starting analyst salary is $30K, plus $15K bonus potential. It's OK to let her know that, too."

"Thanks."

"Now, go make some money to pay for her and the toys she'll need!"

"Will do!"

I left his office and worked until 5:00pm, then left to have dinner with Violet. When I arrived, after a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, I asked to borrow the phone to call home.

"You're in!" I said to Bianca when she answered the phone.

"That was fast!" she exclaimed.

"I hope to never, ever hear those words from you again!" I chuckled.

Bianca laughed, "Don't worry! When do I start?"

"June 13th. You'll receive a letter in the mail."

"Salary?"

"$30,000 plus $15,000 in bonus potential. According to Mr. Matheson, that's starting pay for an analyst."

"And more than the starting compensation for most college grads in Chicago! I accept!"

"I was sure that would be the case. See you tonight."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up.

"What words don't you want to hear ever again?" Violet asked.

I hadn't realized she could hear me from the other room, even though I hadn't been loud. Before the trip to Kansas, I'd have demurred and avoided answering, but things had changed.

"She said, 'That was fast'," I replied.

"I'm missing something."

"A guy doesn't want to have a girl say that when they're fooling around."

Violet blushed slightly and laughed softly.

"Er, uhm, how long does it take? My health class was very, very vague."

"Mine, too. I think the answer is that it depends on, uhm, how energetic you are, the position you're in, and what exactly you're doing."

"Is this where you offer to demonstrate?" Violet said, clearly teasing.

"In the right circumstances, yes, but you and I both know the situation, so, no."

"You think I'd have a panic attack?"

"I suspect you would; I'm positive YOU think you will."

Violet nodded, "As I said, I want to, but as soon as I think about it, I start to lose it. But the techniques Nancy has taught me help control the panic attacks."

"I'd also be concerned about how you'd feel afterwards."

"Reports indicate that it feels so good I'd want to do it again!" Violet smirked. "But I know you mean emotionally and mentally."

"It's a good sign you can talk about it," I said. "Did you ask Nancy about a counselor?"

"Yes, and she had two recommendations. One is a woman who specializes in rape and incest, which fits, even though those never actually happened to me. The other is a counselor who helps couples who struggle with intimacy in their relationship. I don't think that would work."

"Probably not, given what I infer from what you said. Seeing the first one is probably a good idea."

"I thought so, too, and I have an appointment next month after school is finished."

"Good."

"Let's eat!"

We went to the kitchen, ate, cleaned up, then headed to class. I let Teri know I likely wouldn't be available for at least two weeks, and she said she understood. After class, Violet and I had our usual coffee and pie while we did homework, then I walked her to the house. Once she was inside, I drove home, and when I went upstairs, I found Keiko waiting in my room.

"How do you feel?" I asked.

"Pretty good," Keiko replied, "though the tubes in my chest are uncomfortable."

"Painful?"

"No. Just uncomfortable."

"Did you take Advil?"

"Yes."

"Good," I said. "Did you want me to come to bed now?"

"Yes, please. I finished studying."

I undressed, emptied my bladder, brushed my teeth, and climbed into bed with Keiko, who snuggled close. I put my arm around her, and she sighed deeply. She was quiet for a few minutes, then sat up.

"This might be the last time for a long time," she said. "But I think I have to be on top because of the tubes."

"It's up to you," I said. "I'm fine with just cuddling and sleeping together, but you know how much I enjoy being with you, so tell me what you need, please."

"Just me on top, slow and gentle, with soft kisses."

"Perfect," I replied.

Keiko kissed me, slid down to get me hard with her mouth, then mounted me and began rocking gently back and forth. I always marveled at how small she was compared to me and very much enjoyed the time we spent together, both doing what we were now doing and otherwise. Over the next ten minutes, Keiko had several small orgasms, then squeezed her internal muscles and began slowly sliding up and down my shaft until I groaned and had my own release. She kissed me a final time, moved next to me, snuggled close, and fell asleep.

May 27, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

When I woke up on Friday morning, Keiko woke up as well, kissed me, then went to her bed to go back to sleep while I showered and dressed. After breakfast with Jack, we walked out to my car for the drive to the Hancock Center.

"Do you need me to do anything for you?" Jack asked as I pulled out of the alley.

"Not that I can think of. Bianca and Deanna will do the shopping tomorrow and will take my suits to the dry cleaners and pick up the ones we dropped off last Saturday. Because Keiko will be in the hospital for a month or so, there's nothing pressing at home. That said, I guarantee things will come up, and I promise I'll ask."

"Good. Bianca said she got the job. A third member of the cadre?"

"If and when the time comes, I'd certainly want her to come along with us, but that's years in the future, if ever."

"Honestly, if you're as good as you appear to be, why not keep it all for ourselves rather than share with Noel Spurgeon?"

"I hear you," I replied, "and the answer is, at least for the foreseeable future, that he gave me a chance, and my repaying that debt is the honorable thing to do. In addition, if we do take a completely mercenary approach, I need to get my Series 30 license before I can go out on my own and supervise other licensed professionals. That's a few years away, at least. And then there's the minor issue of needing around a hundred mil under management that will go with me. Right now, your focus needs to be on studying for your licenses and mine on gaining experience and raising capital. Let's not get ahead of the game! In our case, slow and methodical wins the race."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to be pushy."

"There's nothing wrong with being aggressive, and no need to apologize. Wisdom, as I've heard said at Spurgeon, is knowing when aggression is warranted and when caution is warranted. You're on the right path."

"You have your call with the attorney today, right?"

"Yes. Nelson had no feel for what Thomas Hart is going to say, but that's not surprising, given Nelson isn't a partner. I'm also waiting to hear from someone in Kansas, but I suspect it'll be a few more weeks before that call. Landing those, or something similar, is the next step."

"Changing topics, did you decide what to do about Saint Martin?"

"Keiko and I have debated it, but I can't see going away for nine days or going without her. She thinks I should. I checked, and I can delay until any other open time, which I think is what I should do."

"I think I'm with you on that one, given what you've said about how you feel about her."

That conversation confirmed what I would do once I'd completed my morning report -- contact Julie and let her know I needed to postpone my trip. When I spoke to her just after 8:00am, she let me know that there were no other Summer dates, but the weather there was always warm, so that wasn't a big deal. I didn't have any alternative dates to give her because everything depended on how things went with Keiko's chemotherapy.

Beth called mid-morning, and I apologized profusely for not calling her and explained the situation. She was understanding and asked me to call her once school was out, and I had more flexibility. Speaking to her reminded me I hadn't spoken to Bev, so when I called Hart-Lincoln to speak to Thomas Hart, I asked for Bev first. She was happy with her job, Heather was doing fine in daycare, and Glen was still planning to come to Chicago for Memorial Day weekend.

"Oh my gosh!" Bev gasped when I told her about Keiko. "Neither Violet nor Lily said anything!"

"Lily doesn't know," I replied, "and Violet wouldn't share anything I've said to her if you pulled her fingernails out with pliers!"

Bev laughed, "That girl is so deeply in love with you, but her history, just, well, you know. So what's the plan with Keiko?"

"Chemo starting tomorrow, and after that, we won't know until they do the next set of tests in a few weeks."

"Let me know if I can do anything for you, Jonny."

"Thanks, Bev. Would you transfer me to Thomas Hart, please?"

She transferred me to his secretary, who put me through to him.

"Good morning, Mr. Hart," I said when he picked up.

"Good morning, Mr. Kane."

"I'd prefer Jonathan, if you don't mind."

"As we're going to be doing business, Tom, please."

Those were perhaps the sweetest words I could possibly hear, and had it not been for Keiko, I'd have planned a blowout celebration.

"Thank you for putting your trust in me," I said. "Which pieces of the proposal?"

"The retirement account," he replied. "And several partners would like to invest with you as well; others may come on board in the future."

"When can we meet to fill out the paperwork?" I asked.

"Are you free on Thursday afternoon?"

"I am. What time would you like me to come to your office?"

"2:00pm, if that works."

"It does," I replied. "I'll see you then."

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, then went to see Mr. Matheson, and Anna directed me to go right in.

"I landed the Hart-Lincoln retirement fund," I said. "$3.7 million at 2 and 20, and structured so that it has sufficient income to pay out as needed."

"Any individual partners?"

"Yes, though I don't know how many right away. He said some right away, and others might come later."

"Good job, Kane! When are they signing?"

"I'm meeting Thomas Hart on Thursday at 2:00pm."

"Once he signs, offer a nice dinner, on the firm, for him and his wife. I'd suggest either Jimmy's Place in Avondale or Le Français in Wheeling. No spending limit, but keep the wine to less than $150 a bottle."

I wasn't about to say it, but no bottle of wine could possibly be so good as to be worth paying $150.

"Will do."

"Any word from Kansas?"

"Not yet. I expect sometime in June."

"Keep up the good work, Kane!"

I returned to my desk, and about twenty minutes later, I left to meet Marcia for lunch.

"I'm sorry for rescheduling so many times," I said. "How are things?"

"You follow the news, right?"

"Yes. But I don't trust the news to give the straight scoop about Council Wars. Are the Three Eddies interfering as much as the news is saying?"

"Worse. There's a lot of stuff going on behind the scenes with the ward committeeman, and the Machine really is going scorched earth. It hasn't been said publicly, but the Vrdolyak 29 have made it clear behind the scenes that every policy proposal will be voted down, no matter what, and every appointment will be voted down. They will pass a budget, but nothing else he wants."

"So, how does the city function?"

"Every appointee will have to serve as interim. And you have to keep this to yourself for now, but Mayor Washington intends to veto every proposal that comes out of the City Council, and they don't have the votes to override him. I think the only way it will be resolved is if the court cases are resolved in favor of redrawing the map in a less racist way."

"I thought that suit was resolved?"

"They did use new maps for this election, but those maps were appealed, and no surprise, given they were basically drawn by Vrdolyak and his supporters. There is only ONE Hispanic Alderman, despite them making up fifteen percent of the population of the city. Blacks are somewhat underrepresented as well, with only sixteen aldermen despite making up forty percent of the population."

"There are fifty aldermen," I said. "And while I'm no statistics whiz, sixteen out of fifty is thirty-two percent, and to me, the idea that only a black can represent blacks is just as racist as saying only a white can represent whites. For Hispanics, I think it's where they live because they're scattered throughout the city, even when they have their own communities."

"So you just ignore it?"

"Ignore what? Hispanics don't cluster the way Blacks do. Tell me how to fix that without drawing maps just as wrong as the ones you're complaining about the White Aldermen drew? But forget that. Tell me how the idea that Blacks can only be represented by Blacks isn't racist, and that Hispanics can only be represented by Hispanics isn't, well, not racist because Hispanic isn't a race but an ethnicity."

"It's different."

"Not from where I sit," I replied. "Doesn't what Martin Luther King said about judging by character, not color, mean anything?"

"Yes, but White voters have too much power," Marcia declared.

"Only if you believe that all Whites think alike and they vote as a unified bloc. They clearly don't. Otherwise, Daley wouldn't have screwed Byrne, and Washington would have lost the general election. You and I are at an impasse here. I'm actually curious about what the courts will say, given this most recent election used new maps approved by a Federal court. Let's set that aside. How are things in your department?"

"Exactly as bad as you would expect, given it's in receivership and there's no money to fix any of the failing infrastructure. I'm beginning to think the radical proposal to tear down all the projects and replace them with scattered-site housing is the only way forward."

I nodded, "Spending money fixing buildings in Cabrini-Green, Robert Taylor Homes, Stateway Gardens, or Ida B. Wells Homes is throwing good money after bad. It would make more financial sense to build new. Can that happen?"

"There would be tremendous opposition," Marcia replied, "and even if someone put forward the proposal today, it would take a decade to start, and, of course, there isn't enough money to do it. Catch-22."

"So, what will you do?"

"I don't give up easily, so keep doing my job. At some point, if I don't see any progress at all, then I'll try to transfer to another agency or department. I could also probably get a job with whoever wins the special election in August to complete Washington's term."

"It's good that you have options."

And while I couldn't say it, her going back to work for a Congressman would be better for me because literally, nothing was going to be accomplished in Chicago until either the courts intervened or the next election, which would be in 1987. Until then, her political connections wouldn't matter all that much, and I'd need to cultivate my relationship with Gary, who worked for Senator Dixon.

"How are things at home?" she asked.

"You know the score," I replied. "Chemo starts tomorrow. She's likely to be in the hospital for four or five weeks."

"If you need anything, let me know."

"I will. Thanks."

We finished our meal, then left the diner. Marcia hugged me and said she'd meet us at Star of Siam for dinner before the movie. I headed back to the office, finished the work day, then met Jack, Kristy, and Josie in the building lobby. The four of us headed to Star of Siam to meet Bianca and Juliette, Lily and Jim, Violet, Marcia, Sally and Will, Allyson and Tim, Stuart and a new girl named Cathy, Tom and Maria, Dustin and Archie, Costas and Trevor, Miranda, Izzy, Kasey and Ed, and Ellie and Bob. Deanna had to work, unfortunately, so she didn't join us.

Kristy had called Star of Siam earlier in the day to let them know that we'd arrive around 5:30pm and need seating for twenty-eight. They accommodated us at three tables, which sat ten each, and were close enough together that we could more or less interact as a larger group, though it was easier to speak to people at our own tables.

"Long time no see, Tom," I said.

"With my work schedule and working the construction job on my off days and family, it's been crazy. And, unfortunately, I have a shift on Monday."

"Any chance you'll have Sundays off when football season begins?"

"At least some," Tom said. "Stuart's in the same boat, obviously."

"But I don't have a shift on Monday," Stuart said, "so I'll be at your place."

"Great! Unfortunately, the fire pit won't be ready for Monday, but it'll be there for football season."

"Awesome!" Stuart declared. "You won't regret that."

The Thai food was great, as it always was, and after we ate, the group headed to Water Tower Place to see Return of the Jedi, which was showing on multiple screens. There were lines, but Kristy had called ahead and pre-purchased thirty tickets. Once we had the tickets, we all paid her, and I offered to cover the two 'wasted' tickets, but she politely declined my offer. After everyone stopped at the restroom and the concession stand, we trooped into the theatre and took seats in two rows.

The movie was decent, though I could have done without the silliness of the Ewoks. It did highlight just how incompetent the Imperial Stormtroopers were, something which seemed to be a running joke. When the movie ended, I confirmed with Violet that she had a ride home with Lily, then Josie, Bianca, Juliette, and I headed for my car.

I confirmed with Josie that she wanted to spend the night, but with the understanding that we had to be up at 6:30am so I could be ready to leave with Keiko no later than 7:10am. She was amenable, and once the four of us were in my car, we headed home. Keiko was asleep, as she'd said she'd be, so Josie and I went to my room.

"I take it from the invitation that you're in a better mood?" Josie asked once I'd shut the door.

"Somewhat," I replied. "But it's obviously tough."

"I can't even imagine! Normally, you ask what you can do for me, but this time, I want to know what I can do for you?"

I smiled, "Given how easy it is for guys to get off, I'll leave the choice of activities to you."

"You're sure?"

"Should I be concerned?" I asked with a grin.

Josie laughed, "No weird fetishes! Like the first night? I blow you, you lick me, we start with me on top, then you fuck me really, really hard. And we wake up early enough to do all of that again in the morning."

"I'm game," I replied.

At five-two, it was difficult to kiss standing up, so I scooped her into my arms, sat on the edge of the bed, and put her in my lap. That began a fun sixty-minute romp, which concluded with Josie snuggled close to me, her head on my chest, and one arm and one leg thrown over me. I pulled up the comforter, and we quickly fell asleep.'

May 28, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Josie and I were up early so we could repeat our activities from the previous night, then went to the shower.

"Is it OK to say I really want to see you more often?" she asked as we got under the warm spray.

"It's always OK to say what you're thinking," I replied.

"So, what do you think?"

I didn't feel I could share what I'd said to Keiko, and Keiko had made it clear we weren't going to change things until we knew more. In addition, I didn't want to seem crass to a girl who had just willingly shared my bed. I felt my best answer was to temporize, and I could easily do that.

"With Keiko's chemo starting today," I said, "I'm going to spend quite a bit of time at the hospital for the next month and then caring for her over the following months. I can't make any commitments at the moment, but I will point out I've asked you out several times recently. Can we just play it by ear for a few months, with the understanding I'm committed to helping Keiko?"

"I really can't argue with that, given the situation," Josie replied. "I just wanted you to know how much I liked you."

"I like you as well," I replied. "But let's take things one step at a time, please."

"I totally get that you're focused on helping Keiko, and I think that's a good thing."

"Me, too, obviously."

We finished our shower, dried off, dressed, and then went downstairs to have breakfast. Keiko was eating a light breakfast as recommended by her instructions, avoiding caffeine as well. Josie went to the front room to give Keiko and me some privacy.

"How are you doing?" I asked Keiko as I started making breakfast for Josie and me.

"Nervous," she replied. "But hopeful."

"Is there anything I need to do before we go?"

"Not that I can think of," Keiko said. "Everything is set with the school, and I told you I spoke to my grandparents and parents. You've done everything humanly possible so far, and you've promised to help me through this. Just keep doing what you're doing."

"Had I known..."

"Jonathan," Keiko said firmly, interrupting me, "the world hasn't stopped! You're doing everything right. I'll tell you if you aren't, and I won't be bitchy. OK?"

"OK," I replied. "By the way, Kristy offered to take Josie back to Loyola, so we don't need to drop her off."

"Remember your promise, Jonathan -- don't stop living your life."

"As I said, I'm putting you first, but I won't completely neglect my friends. I reserve the right to determine the correct balance."

Keiko smiled, "And I reserve the right to point out imbalance. I'm going up to pack."

She left, and Josie came in so that we could eat our breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast. When we finished eating, Josie helped me clean up, and then I grabbed the latest editions of Crain's, The Economist, and the Wall Street Journal. I filled a travel mug with coffee, then went upstairs to brush my teeth and gargle with Listerine.

"Ready?" I asked Keiko when we were both downstairs a few minutes later.

"Yes," she replied.

I grabbed her bag, my coffee, and my reading material and carried them out to the car. I returned to the house to say 'goodbye' to Josie, while Keiko said goodbye to all our housemates, who all wished her luck and promised to visit her. Once Keiko had received a hug from everyone, we walked out to my car.

"How was the movie?" she asked as I pulled out of the driveway into the alley.

"Not bad," I replied. "Empire Strikes Back was much better."

"I suppose I'll have to wait for it to come out on VHS."

"I might be able to get you a copy through Jeri," I said. "Her parents have contacts in Hollywood, along with just about any other place you can imagine. If there's one thing I've learned so far, it's the value of contacts. My goal is to know as many people as possible because there's no way to ever know which contact I might need in the future."

"You certainly know enough girls!" Keiko teased.

"Those aren't the contacts I was referring to!" I chuckled.

"Well, I can't complain because if you hadn't met Ellie and weren't as friendly with girls as you are, I'd never have had a chance!"

"I'm glad you asked Ellie," I said. "Very glad."

"Me, too," Keiko replied. "Me, too."

LI. I Wouldn't Wish This on My Worst Enemy

May 28, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Keiko and I arrived at the cancer treatment center at Rush-Presbyterian at 7:40am, and she began the admission process. It was somewhat abbreviated, as most of the paperwork had been completed during her visits with Doctor Morrison. Keiko showed her ID and insurance card from Blue Cross, signed her name about a dozen times, and then we were escorted to a private room, necessary because she'd be what Doctor Morrison had called 'immunocompromised' by the chemo and other drugs she'd be given.

"Did you bring athletic clothes and a robe with you?" the nurse, Mary, asked Keiko.

"Yes. I have three sweatsuits with me and a knee-length robe."

"Please change and get into bed. It's OK to leave your panties on, but not your bra. Doctor Williams will be here shortly. I'll come back and draw blood, and then a chemotherapy technician will set up your IV. We won't start the drugs until the blood work results are known."

"Thanks," Keiko said.

The nurse drew the curtain around the bed to offer privacy.

"Do you want your friend to step out?" the nurse asked.

"No," Keiko replied. "He's my boyfriend and we're lovers."

The nurse smiled and nodded, and left the room. Keiko changed into her navy blue sweats, and I folded her clothes and put them on a shelf in the small closet. Keiko got into the bed, which was adjusted so she was half reclining, and I helped her draw up the sheet and covers. About two minutes later, the nurse returned with a tray that contained the tubes and syringe she needed to draw blood, but rather than a needle, she drew blood from the IV port that had been inserted by the surgeon earlier in the week.

"What tests do you run?" I asked.

"CBC, ABG, Chem-20, and a full metabolic panel. A 'CBC' is a Complete Blood Count, which tells us the number of each type of blood cell; an 'ABG' is Arterial Blood Gas, which measures oxygen and carbon dioxide in blood; a 'Chem-20' measures a number of other components of blood, especially electrolytes; a full metabolic panel tests liver function as well as glucose levels. We'll monitor those every day."

"Now I'm really glad they put in the IV port," Keiko declared. "Otherwise, I'd be a pincushion!"

The nurse left the room briefly to hand off the tubes of blood to someone to take them to the lab, then returned to take Keiko's vital signs.

"Everything looks good," Nurse Mary said. "Your pulse is a bit high and your blood pressure as well, but that's normal from anxiety and adrenaline. We can give you a mild sedative if you think you need one."

"I don't think so," Keiko replied. "I'm nervous but not panicking."

"Just so you know, the sedative we'd give you is very mild and would basically simply take the edge off. You'll most likely want a slightly stronger one so you can sleep."

"No, thank you," Keiko replied. "At least for now. May I ask about visiting hours?"

"Doctor Williams issued a twenty-four-hour pass for your boyfriend. That's not something usually done, but given he's your designated support person and has your medical power of attorney, the Oncology Chief approved. He'll bring it in when he arrives.

"Thank you," Keiko said.

"Thank you," I added.

The nurse left and returned about ten minutes later with Doctor Williams and a technician.

"Good morning, Keiko," he said. "Your vitals look good. How do you feel?"

"Better than before the transfusion, but nervous."

"Completely normal. Mary said you refused the sedative. I'd encourage you to take it because you'll find it difficult to relax today. It's not required, but I do strongly encourage it."

I was tempted to comment, but this was something that had to be Keiko's decision. I felt she should, but it was absolutely not my place to say.

"OK," she replied, acquiescing.

"Mary will get it for you. This is Mario, and he's going to hook up your IV and put on EKG pads. We won't start the drugs flowing until the lab results are back, but we will start an IV with D5 Ringer's lactate -- that's electrolytes and glucose. We do that because chemo creates chemical imbalances and potential nutritional problems. Do you have any questions before he starts?"

"No."

"The IV unit he's hooking up is mobile, so you'll be able to take walks, go to the common room, or use the restroom. I encourage you to walk, even a short distance, every few hours, especially if you don't feel like it. We see better outcomes from patients who are at least minimally active."

"I'll encourage her," I said.

"Good. I have a twenty-four-hour pass for you. It will get you into the hospital at any time and allow you to stay with Keiko as much as she can tolerate. A student nurse will make sure a blanket and pillow are available for you."

"Thanks."

"Keiko, are you warm enough?" Doctor Williams asked.

"Yes."

"OK. If you feel chilled, which is common, press the call button, and a student nurse can bring you warm blankets. Mario, you can begin."

Mario set up the machine, plugged it into the wall, and then connected the lines. He hung a clear bag marked 'D5LR' on a hook, connected it, and adjusted the flow. Then he put five EKG pads on Keiko's chest and arms, connected leads, but left the end dangling.

"The chemo induction machine has a battery," he said. "It'll run for about two hours not plugged in, and it takes about four hours to fully charge. When you want to walk, simply unplug it, ensure the display is on and the light is green, then coil the cord on the hook. When you finish your walk, plug it in again and ensure both lights are green. In the common room, there are plugs by every recliner. I'll hook up the EKG when I come back, and we'll get a baseline, but then I'll disconnect the wires so you can move around. Any questions?"

"No," Keiko replied.

"I'll be back with the chemo as soon as Doctor Williams sees your blood test results."

Doctor Williams, Mary, and Mario all left the room, and I sat down in the recliner. Mary returned a moment later with a small paper cup with a pill and poured water from a pitcher on a rolling stand next to the bed into a plastic cup. She gave them both to Keiko, who took the pill. Mary wrote a note on the chart, then left the room.

"I plan to visit every day," I said. "Unless you tell me otherwise. I have clothes in the car, so I can stay the night tonight, if you want."

"Why don't you plan to go home to sleep," Keiko said. "There's no point in sleeping here."

"I don't mind if that's what you need."

"I'm not sure what I need," Keiko sighed. "But I know YOU need to get enough sleep, finish your class, and go to work."

"And I'll figure out the right balance, as I promised. I plan to spend the day here tomorrow, and on Monday, I'll come in the morning because of the party. On school nights, I'll come here right after class. I already discussed with Violet that we'd skip our pie and coffee after class for the next week, and then the following week is exams. Violet will want to come see you, I'm sure, as will the other girls."

"Bianca said she'd coördinate," Keiko said. "She'll check with me before they come. She also said she'd make sure my clothes were washed. You can take the one sweatsuit a day home, and I'll rotate through them."

"OK."

"We should talk about the medical power of attorney," Keiko said quietly.

"Tell me what you want me to do," I replied.

"First, I want to beat this and recover fully, and I know it's going to be difficult. But, if there comes a time when there isn't a reasonable chance of remission, I don't want what they call 'heroic measures'. If I'm to die, I want to be at peace, not hooked up to a ventilator. I'm not signing a Do Not Resuscitate order, at least not now. Promise that if it's inevitable that I'm going to die, that I be allowed to die in peace."

"What do you consider a reasonable chance?" I asked.

"I don't have a specific answer," Keiko said. "I trust you to use your best judgment. It's perfectly OK to seek counsel from my grandfather, but I trust you to make the right decision. Please do not listen to my parents, especially my mom; she'll insist they keep me alive even in the most hopeless situation."

"What you're asking me to do is difficult," I replied.

Keiko nodded, "I know. But you're the most level-headed, analytical person I know. I also know you care deeply for me, and that means you'll make the right decision."

"I'm a bit confused about your mom. What you've said seems contradictory."

Keiko smiled, "Because she is. She's torn between two different worlds -- Japan and America. She's very traditionally Japanese and also has Western ideas, and they are in conflict. That causes her to behave in ways that seem erratic."

"You and your grandfather seem to have found a proper balance."

"Because we're both second-generation or third, for me, if you count through my dad. Mom has the usual struggles of a new immigrant from Japan. My grandfather's overriding philosophy is from the principles of Shōtōkan karate, and he has adopted many American values, though not American religion. My views are similar -- I am an American of Japanese descent, and my views are similar to my grandfather's and my dad's."

"Did your dad practice karate?"

"Until about three years ago when he tore his ACL while playing soccer with friends. He decided to stop practicing regularly at that point."

"Did you have some specific conflict with your mom growing up?"

"Just the usual, I think. She felt I wasn't respectful, and I felt she was too demanding."

"But your grandfather?"

"Never demanded respect, he simply gently guided me to the place he felt I needed to be. It's how he deals with his karate students. The real conflict came when I met you."

"Is this a 'racial purity' thing? She wants grandchildren who are fully Japanese?"

"Yes. She made that clear when I went to my Senior Prom with a Caucasian boy. That was my first real date; before that, I'd only gone out with groups of friends."

"Did you go out with him again?"

"No. It was just Prom, and it was just as friends. Of course, I didn't say that to my mom and simply let her think it was a real date."

"That would seem to be contrary to your grandfather's approach to being respectful to your elders."

"I'm not exactly consistent," Keiko said. "Similar to you and your grandparents and you and your cousin."

"Point taken," I replied. "Did you accept the invitation because it would bug your mom?"

"Maybe partly," Keiko admitted. "But I really did want to go to my Prom."

"And me?"

"I was attracted to you, and after Ellie talked up how awesome it was, I wanted to do it with you. It would certainly have annoyed my mom, but I wasn't about to tell her. She made an assumption when I moved in, and I simply refused to discuss it, pointing out that I had my own room."

"Hi, Keiko," Mario said, coming into the room. "Your labs came back, and everything is in range to begin your chemo. First, I'm going to run an EKG strip for thirty seconds, then I'll connect the IV bags with the chemo drugs."

He did as he said, then left the room. Mary came in a minute later.

"You may feel nauseated, have a headache, develop a rash, or simply feel itchy. If any of those things happen, just press the call button. They're all normal reactions, but we need to check to be sure. I'm going to take your vitals once per hour, starting now."

"What about the catheter for my spine?" Keiko asked.

"A surgeon will come see you later this morning. It's almost identical to the procedure you had before, but this time, they'll leave the catheter in. It has a valve similar to the one on the catheter in your chest. You will need to stay on your side at that point."

Mary connected a meter to Keiko's finger, and a display showed her pulse, temperature, and oxygen levels, all of which Mary said were fine. She also checked Keiko's blood pressure, which was fine as well.

"I'll come back and check on you," Mary said. "Don't hesitate to push the call button if you need anything or if you have any reactions to the chemo."

"OK," Keiko replied, and Mary left.

"Back to what we were talking about," Keiko said. "When I first came to you, it was simply to experience what Ellie and the other girls experienced. But then it was clear that we were compatible, and we both liked each other. I knew my mom would object, but I didn't care. And I know you aren't arguing that I should respect her wishes."

"Not a chance!"

"And you obviously don't have a problem with me being Japanese."

"Obviously, given I consider it a positive thing! And if we have cute little girls who look just like you, we'll need to hire security guards when they turn fourteen or fifteen!"

Keiko laughed, "I did get a lot of attention from boys, but I wasn't interested in being a couple. I actually wasn't thinking about that at all when I came to see you."

"And all it took was a night of great sex, and you were ready to be my girlfriend?"

Keiko laughed, "I could say 'yes' to that, and it would be true because it was awesome. But you know it's more than that."

"I do."

"And it's not just great sex in your mind, either, because you have so many options. Would you hand me my book, please?"

"Sure."

I opened her bag and took out the book.

"Les Misérables?" I asked.

"It's about redemption and takes place in France following Napoleon's loss at Waterloo. It's probably the best book written in the nineteenth century."

I handed her the thick book, then pulled out the latest issue of The Economist and began reading. Mary came in about forty minutes later to check on Keiko and let her know the surgeon and an oncology Resident would be in shortly to insert the catheter and begin the intrathecal treatment. She reminded Keiko that she would have to lie on her side while she had the catheter. She also let Keiko know that the treatment would last about four hours each day for the entire week, but she'd be able to walk during that time.

"Could I walk first?" Keiko asked.

"Yes. They'll start in about ten minutes. Let me assist you."

Mary unplugged the IV machine, verified the light was green, then helped Keiko from bed.

"Jonathan, just walk next to her so you can help her if she becomes weak or stumbles."

"Is it OK to put my arm around her?"

"Yes, but you want to avoid skin-to-skin contact."

I did that, and Keiko and I walked slowly from the room and down the corridor. We checked out the common room, and Keiko decided she'd stay in her room, at least for the rest of the day. We returned just as the surgeon and the oncology resident came into the room. They introduced themselves as Doctor Mike Hammond and Doctor Pete Morales. The procedure took about twenty minutes, start to finish, and about ten minutes after that, Mario returned to change the original IV bags and add a third one.

About an hour later, Keiko began feeling slightly nauseated, and her skin began to itch. We pressed the call button, and nurse Peggy came in to check on Keiko and reported that Keiko had a slight fever but otherwise normal vital signs. She pronounced everything OK so far, though I expressed concern because Keiko probably wouldn't feel like eating.

"We want her to try to eat," Peggy said. "We'll provide a very light meal for lunch and give her nausea medication if necessary."

She left, and Keiko and I returned to reading. There were regular checks by the nurses, and when they brought Keiko's lunch, I went to the hospital cafeteria to have my lunch. I ate quickly, then called the house to let Bianca know that Keiko was doing OK so far and that I'd be staying the night. I verified that she, Kristy, and Jack would get everything on the list for the party on Monday, and once she'd confirmed, I ended the call and went back to Keiko's room.

The pattern for the afternoon was nursing checks, some short walks, and reading. Keiko had managed to keep down her light lunch, which was a good thing, though she was feeling progressively worse as the day wore on, which was to be expected.

At dinnertime, the nurse offered to have a meal brought for me, and I accepted so that I could stay with Keiko. I did wonder how it would be paid for, but that was a question I'd ask outside of Keiko's hearing, as I didn't want her to worry about anything more than she already had to worry about. About fifteen minutes before she ate, Keiko was given medication to reduce her nausea, and she managed to eat her meal.

I didn't have any experience with cancer treatment, but it seemed obvious to me that by the end of the week, Keiko was going to be in very bad shape. Of course, the alternative was not doing the treatment, and that outcome was far worse. I realized that might still be the outcome, but at least this way, she had a fighting chance, as opposed to no chance.

The pattern after dinner was similar, with a pair of short walks, though we watched TV rather than read. The lights were turned down at 10:00pm, and I used the pillow and blanket a candy striper had provided to make myself a bed in the recliner, which had to actually be more comfortable than the bed Keiko was in with wires and tubes attached.

May 29, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"You'll need to wear a mask in the room, starting today," Nurse Kelly said on Sunday morning. "I'll provide a box of surgical masks. Put on a fresh one each time you come into the hospital and after meals."

"My parents and grandparents will visit this afternoon," Keiko said.

"They'll need to check in with the nurses' station, and they'll be given masks. I'm leaving the box for your boyfriend because he's permitted to come and go at any hour."

The nurse completed her checks, administered the nausea drug, and a chemo technician brought in new IV bags. When Keiko's breakfast arrived, I went to the cafeteria to have my meal and called the house to check in with Bianca. She asked when I'd be home, but I wasn't sure and said that I'd have to discuss it with Keiko. Everything was fine at the house, so I ended the call and went back to Keiko's room.

"I think I'll go home when your parents and grandparents arrive," I said to Keiko.

"You don't have to leave on account of them," she said. "But that probably makes the most sense."

"I'll come back tomorrow morning and spend a few hours with you, then see you each night this week, after class on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and after dinner on Tuesday. Bianca said she's going to come in the afternoon after class each day."

"And Ellie and some of the other girls are going to come by in the afternoon as well," Keiko said. "On Friday, I want you to go out with Jack and Kristy. Invite whomever you like."

"It won't do me any good to debate that with you, will it?" I asked.

"No," Keiko said with a smile.

"Then next Saturday, I'll spend the day with you and stay the night."

"And go home on Sunday, so you have some time for yourself. I know you care, and if how I feel this morning is a preview, I'm not going to be very good company."

"You don't need to be!" I replied. "You're the patient! I'm the company! And even if I'm just sitting here with you, I'm happy."

"Jonathan, remember what you promised."

"I do remember. You are my top priority."

Keiko smiled, "I like that, but you know you have to balance work, school, and time for yourself. Sitting in my hospital room doesn't prove you care; I know you care. And yes, I want to see you, and yes, I want to spend time with you, but I care about you as much as you care about me. Find the right balance, please. That's what I want you to do."

"I understand your point," I replied. "Let me think about it, please."

The nurse came in with a box of masks and handed it to me. They were the type that used elastic and didn't have to be tied, which made them convenient.

"A pair of questions, if I might," I said after donning the mask.

"Yes, of course," Nurse Wendy said.

"Should I put the mask on before I enter the room?"

"Yes. You can carry them in a plastic baggie for convenience."

"Second, what about the staff?"

"We'll be wearing masks when we come in as well. I was just about to explain that when Keiko goes to the common room or for walks in the corridor, she should put on a mask. You can take your mask off anytime you're outside the room."

"So, basically opposites -- in the room, everyone else wears a mask; outside the room, only Keiko."

"Yes. Keiko, once your white count recovers, the masks won't be necessary, but that will probably be a few weeks. I'll bring some masks for you in a few minutes."

Wendy left, and Keiko and I read, she took two short walks and had numerous checks of her vitals, as well as a visit from a chemo tech who changed the IV bags. I ate lunch in the cafeteria and went back up to the room, arriving just before Keiko's parents and grandparents. When they came into the room, I greeted them, said 'goodbye' to Keiko, and left the room, taking the box of masks with me so I could divide them into plastic baggies.

About thirty minutes later, I walked into the house and was greeted by Bianca and Deanna.

"How is she?" Bianca asked.

"I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy," I replied. "Her spirits are good for the moment, but the side effects from the chemo haven't really set in. She feels nauseated, her skin itches, and she has a mild rash, but those are normal. Her vital signs are good, according to the nurses who check every hour or so."

"Where did you sleep?" Deanna asked.

"In a very comfortable recliner in her room. I may do that next Saturday night as well, though having to wear a surgical mask in the room at all times will make sleeping suboptimal."

"I should make a list of 'Jonathanisms'," Deanna declared. "You say things that are highly accurate and correct, but in ways nobody else ever would!"

"Which is why he's good at his job!" Bianca declared. "Is there anything we can do for you, Jonathan?"

"Not at the moment," I replied. "Keiko and I are negotiating about how much time I should spend with her."

"And being practical, analytical, and logical, you'll accept her view that you need to have time for yourself."

"She called you, didn't she?" I asked.

"When you were eating lunch in the cafeteria. She has a point."

"Obviously," I replied. "I know she's right, but that doesn't make it easier."

"Jonathan has emotions?" Bianca teased. "Who knew?"

"Oh, I have them," I replied. "I just control them. This is the most challenging situation I've ever encountered in that regard. Even the drama with Bev pales in consideration."

"What's your plan?"

"I'll go see Keiko tomorrow morning and be home before 11:00am, so I'm here when our guests begin arriving. I'll go see her after dinner on Tuesday, then after class on Wednesday and Thursday. On Friday, I'll go in early so I can leave at 3:00pm and see Keiko, but then meet Jack and Kristy for our usual Friday evening out. Keiko insisted I do that. Then I'll spend Saturday and possibly Saturday night with her and come home by noon on Sunday. If I don't stay overnight, I'll go in Sunday morning after breakfast. I'll figure out the schedule for the future after that."

"What about Violet?"

"We're still having dinner together; we're just skipping our pie and coffee after class. And once classes end, she and I will have Sunday dinner together."

"I think that all sounds reasonable," Deanna said. "Shelly, Bianca, and I plan to go see her on Tuesday after class."

"Good," I replied. "She's going to need all the support we can give her."

"What's the plan for the afternoon?" Bianca asked.

"I didn't really have one," I said. "I'm pretty much playing things by ear. I am going to take a shower, though."

"I'm heading out to meet Juliette. I won't be home for dinner."

"OK."

"Need help in the shower?" Deanna asked invitingly.

"Not since I was about five," I chuckled. "But that doesn't mean I'll decline the offer."

Bianca hugged and kissed me, then Deanna and I went upstairs to my room.

May 30, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Thanks for letting me spend the night," Deanna said as she and I got out of bed on Monday morning.

"And thanks for agreeing to mostly cuddle."

"It was pretty obvious you needed that more than an all-night fuckathon. It's a very different side of you."

"Keiko's situation has made me think about things I've never worried much about or thought I could postpone into the future."

We went to the bathroom, and I turned on the shower, and once the water was the correct temperature, we got in.

"Were you talking about death?" Deanna asked as we began washing each other.

"Life, death, marriage, kids, and happiness. I've never really thought about those things except in abstract ways, and almost always in the context of being successful at work before any important decisions had to be made."

"You're not successful?"

"I think the best answer is, 'so far, so good'. I need more experience, more clients, more money under management, and a proven track record. I'm not saying I haven't had some success, but until it's sustained, I wouldn't call myself successful."

"I'd argue the point that you have seriously improved your situation, and no matter what happens, you'll be able to use what you've learned so far and the money you've made to be comfortable for the rest of your life."

"I haven't made that much!" I countered.

"Enough though, that properly invested, you'd have your retirement set, and you'd have the necessary money to do most things that people want to do. Not to mention owning a house, having a nice car, and so on."

"A reasonable point, but it's still the case that I didn't give serious consideration to all those other things. Sure, I had passing thoughts and discussed them in a general way. Things have become real."

"You haven't known anyone who has died, right?" Deanna asked. "I mean, been close to them?"

"Paula, but we weren't close. As for anyone else, I never even met the man who died in Viet Nam who was married to my mom's friend. I was at his funeral. And you know I never met my dad."

"Are you thinking of something exclusive with Keiko?" Deanna asked.

"The thought has crossed my mind more than once," I replied.

"Not anytime soon, though, right?"

"Let's just say that Keiko's situation has caused me to think seriously about something I was putting off for the future. I won't make any decisions on the spur of the moment."

"With your love of directness, let me say that I'd prefer you waited and that our relationship could continue."

"I can be your patron without sleeping together," I replied.

"Sure, you can, but both are better! At least for me."

"Just out of curiosity," I asked as we got out of the shower, "what would be your ideal situation?"

"Pretty much what I've said -- creating my art, supported by a patron, who is also a lover. Marriage isn't something that is important, and I'm not sure I want kids. I have zero problems with being the mistress."

"Most men's wives would have a problem with them having a mistress."

"Oh, I know!" Deanna exclaimed. "You did ask for the ideal."

"True."

We dried off, dressed, and went downstairs to have breakfast. After we ate and cleaned up, I headed to the hospital to see Keiko.

"How are you?" I asked when I walked into her room.

"I feel pretty bad," she replied. "I barely kept my breakfast down, and that was with a dose of nausea medication. I have a slight fever, I feel weak, I have a headache, and I itch, too. How are things at home?"

"They're fine. How was your visit with your parents and grandparents?"

"They're concerned, obviously. It won't surprise you that my parents are unhappy that I gave you medical power of attorney. My grandfather wasn't surprised but did ask questions. I let him know that you said you'd consult him, and that made him more comfortable."

"I really don't want to be a cause of dissension," I protested.

"You aren't! I did this, Jonathan. It's what I want."

"And in the end, that is what matters. Have the doctors said anything?"

"Nothing more than that I'm tolerating the chemo well so far. They won't know until Saturday how well it has worked. They'll draw blood on Saturday morning and have the results on Monday. It's the same as the one Doctor Morrison did before, where they examine the blood under a microscope."

"OK. I suppose all we can do is wait. Do you need anything?"

"I'll want a new book because I'll finish Les Misérables sometime this week. Would you stop at Waldenbooks and get me a copy of Roots? I've wanted to read it since I saw the TV miniseries."

"I can do that."

"Which day is your exam?" Keiko asked.

"Next Monday. Unless you object, I plan to study here on Saturday, stay the night, and study on Sunday morning. That way, we can be together."

"We'll see how I feel, OK? The nurses warned me that next weekend will be the worst, and it'll last for at least a week before it improves."

"Remember, even if you're sleeping, I feel that sitting here has value. Call it emotional support."

"Let's see how it goes, OK?"

"Yes," I agreed. "Besides the book and clothes, what else do you need?"

"A scarf for my head because I'll start losing my hair."

"Everywhere?" I asked.

Keiko laughed softly, "Yes, there, too. I'm going to look like I'm twelve or so."

"That will be a little weird. How long does that last?"

"It depends, but it does eventually grow back in the majority of cases, according to Doctor Morrison."

"I'll ask Deanna about a scarf; she has a much better sense of style than I do!"

"OK. Will you help me to the bathroom, then take me for a walk?"

"Of course."

Keiko was clearly much weaker, and I could see her skin looked paler, though she still had her beautiful Japanese complexion. Once she'd finished using the bathroom, Keiko put on her mask, and we walked up and down the corridor twice, then returned to the room. I stayed with her until 10:30am, then headed home for our Memorial Day party.

The turnout was fantastic, with all my friends except for Tom and Maria showing up. Most of the people that Deanna, Bianca, and Shelly had invited showed up as well. I was very happy that Bev had decided to come, and she'd brought Glen with her. He seemed a bit nervous, so with Bev's blessing, I asked him to move to a private spot so we could speak.

"I can tell you're a bit uncomfortable," I said. "But I have no bad feelings or ill will. And I don't think you did anything wrong with either Bev or my mom."

"Your mom disagrees," Glen said.

I nodded, "I know. But Bev was quite clear that she approached you, and you had no idea Heather was yours. As far as I can tell, you didn't lie, and you acted responsibly. You're paying child support, and now you're here, visiting Bev and Heather. And, as far as I can tell, Bev is happy for the first time since I left Ohio. In my book, everything is good."

"Thanks. I think, based on everything, I need to leave Goshen High."

"That's probably not a bad idea. I assume you're going to look for a teaching job here in Illinois?"

"That's a good assumption. Bev encouraged me to do that."

"If you make Bev happy, I'll be happy."

"Thanks. How is your friend with leukemia?"

"She's on day three of her chemo and starting to show the side effects."

"What chances do they give her?"

"About 50/50."

"I suppose that's something," Glen said.

"If you need any help finding a job here, I have contacts who might be able to help."

"Thanks. I'll discuss things with Bev and decide what to do."

"Good. Now, please enjoy yourself!"

"Thanks."

We returned to the backyard, where Stuart and Jack had the grill fired up and were cooking hamburgers and brats. I mingled with the guests, spending most of the time with my guy friends but also making time for Violet. The party was a smashing success, and everyone had a good time. Because everyone had to work on Tuesday morning, the party broke up at about 9:00pm.

I'd had several offers to stay, including Beth, Ellie, Josie, and Meg, but I begged off, saying I was tired, which was true, both physically and emotionally. I was somewhat surprised at how Keiko's situation had affected me because, for the most part, I didn't allow emotions to affect how I thought or how I lived my life. After my housemates and I cleaned up, Bianca followed me up to my room.

"Want some company?" she asked. "It's OK if it's just to talk."

I considered and decided that I did need company and acknowledged that to Bianca. We both got ready for bed, then climbed in, and she snuggled close.

"You seem a bit out of sorts," she said.

"Because I am," I replied. "This is all new to me, and I'm struggling with how best to care for Keiko. Obviously, her doctors are taking care of the health side, but I want to be supportive without being oppressive."

"Did she say that?" Bianca asked.

"No, but I picked up some hints. She's continually saying I need to live my life and not spend all my time with her. I'm struggling to find the balance. Part of it is that I get the sense that she feels she's a burden, which she most decidedly is not."

"I think, in this case, what she needs and wants has to override your sense of honor and duty and your feelings for her. Is she telling you to stay away completely, or, in effect, just asking for you to give her some space?"

"I'd offer a third option -- that she's concerned about me."

"Sure, obviously, but there's a difference between 'go away and leave me alone' and 'please give me some time alone'. I think part of what you're feeling is a reaction to Bev saying she needed space, by which she meant she wanted no contact at all. That's not what Keiko is doing, I'm sure."

"No, she's not, and yes, I probably am reacting based on what happened with Bev. I think I'll keep my schedule for this week, then discuss it with Keiko. She more or less intimated that was OK, and we'd reëvaluate next weekend when she sees how she feels, which is going to be lousy."

"No doubt. Just be there for her, but listen to her, too."

"Easier said than done, but I will."

"Good," Bianca said. "Do you want to fool around or just sleep?"

"Just sleep, if that's OK with you," I replied.

"It is."

She snuggled close and fell asleep. I stayed awake for some time, though eventually, I quieted the thoughts and analysis swirling in my mind and fell asleep.

LII. Closing the Deal

May 31, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Tuesday morning, when I got out of bed, Bianca went to her room so she could have a few more hours of sleep. I showered, dressed, and then went downstairs to have breakfast with Jack. We ate, then headed to the Hancock Center, where I began my day as usual -- I made a fresh pot of coffee, spoke with Rich and Mark about overnight trading in Japan and morning trading in Europe, then got to work on my analyst report.

I reviewed the news from the G7 Summit, which had been held over the weekend at Colonial Williamsburg in Virginia. The main thing from a work perspective that came out of the summit was a reaffirmation of free trade principles. Despite Reagan trumpeting that success, I was skeptical, given France would, as they typically did, claim exceptions, especially for their farmers and 'national champions', and that would ultimately block any significant action.

The other thing that came out of the summit was a reaffirmation of the need to deploy Pershing II missiles, a show of solidarity by the West against the USSR. I hated the very idea of nuclear weapons but understood the need to deter an aggressive Soviet Union. Dual-track diplomacy was agreed, and that read to me like an iron fist in a velvet glove. The real question was what would happen after Yuri Andropov, the man who had been instrumental in crushing the 'Prague Spring', died. He was ill, and it seemed to me only a matter of time.

Who the Communist Party chose to lead the country would have a huge, potentially destabilizing effect on the entire world, and I wasn't skilled enough in Kremlinology to be able to read those tea leaves. What I needed was an expert, preferably someone on the inside, but that was a pipe dream.

I wondered if I might be able to meet someone or speak with the Soviet Trade Attaché, Ivan Voronin, who had made several trips to Chicago in recent years. Someone in my position speaking to a diplomat responsible for trade wouldn't be out of the ordinary, and even though I doubted I'd get any information on the internal workings of the Soviet government, I might get some clues.

"Tony, any idea how I might speak to a Soviet diplomat?"

"Carefully?" he suggested with a grin.

"I suspect they have KGB bodyguards, so yeah! But how would I go about it?"

"I'd call the Soviet Embassy in DC and ask to speak to him. You'll get some low-level flunky, but you never know. Why?"

"We really could use some clues as to what will happen when Andropov dies. Rumor has it that he suffered complete kidney failure in February."

"I read that, and trying to find out who'll replace him is likely a lost cause. I bet even THEY don't know. When Mikhail Suslov died, the hard-liners lost their key leader. That's why we saw the agitation over selecting Andropov and probably his successor. I'd bet it's whoever comes after the guy who comes after Andropov who really matters. And you might as well try to pick the winning horse in every race at Arlington Park for a week."

"True, but even the tiniest bit of information could help. I think I'll place the call, but before that, I'm going to research what we actually trade with the Soviets. I know grain, for sure, but I wonder if there's anything we import from them?"

"Vodka?" Tony suggested, causing Joel, the third analyst, to laugh.

"I'm pretty sure Smirnoff hasn't been made in Russia since the Revolution," Joel observed.

"Well, I'm adding it to my research list and I'll see if I can get at least some kind of relationship established with someone, even at a low level."

"That's probably the worst idea," Joel countered. "It'll seem like an attempt to turn them. You're better off going for the top guy or one of his main assistants in an official capacity from Spurgeon rather than trying to cultivate a friendly contact with a secretary or whatever."

"I've seen some pretty hot Russian women," Tony observed.

"And the flip side is the old-fashioned 'honey trap' where they use sex to turn YOU!"

"I'm twenty and not involved in government, defense, or technology," I replied. "What possible use could I be to them?"

"Maybe not now, but in ten or fifteen years? What if they had someone inside a top trading firm? Think about how they might exploit that."

"I dunno," Tony interjected, "for the chance to sleep with a sexy Russian girl like the ones in the Bond movies?"

"They enticed Bond with a hot chick and an encryption machine," Joel replied. "I don't think Jonathan would be interested. Evidence suggests he likes Swedish blondes!"

"Anna and I aren't seeing each other," I replied.

"You or her?" he asked.

"Different priorities, different life goals," I replied. "A compatibility thing."

"Bummer. She's smoking hot!"

"She is! And we have reports to finish."

"Sad but true!" Joel declared.

"I'm not sad about the paycheck," Tony said.

"Me, either," I agreed.

I finished my report and put it on Mr. Matheson's desk, then returned to my desk to begin my research on trade between the US and the USSR. When Mr. Matheson came in, he asked about Keiko, and I said she was doing as well as could be expected, given the chemo.

The day was fairly routine, though in my research I discovered, among other things, Belarus Tractors, based outside Milwaukee, which sold imported Soviet farm equipment. From what I could tell, the farmers liked the equipment, and it was significantly cheaper than similar equipment from John Deere or International Harvester. That provided a potential 'hook', as commodities and foreign exchange were both in my purview.

At the end of the day, I drove home with Jack, checked the work on the flower beds, ate dinner, then headed to Rush-Presbyterian to see Keiko. Bianca had reported that Keiko was feeling much worse but that she was still in good spirits, and that's what I found as well. I spent three hours with her, mostly just sitting with her, reading, as she was very tired. I did convince her to take a walk, but after less than five minutes, she was winded and wanted to go back to bed.

When I arrived home, I went straight up to bed and wasn't surprised when Bianca offered to join me again. As we had the night before, we simply snuggled close, and, as with the night before, it took me some time before my mind was quiet enough for me to fall asleep.

June 1, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Wednesday was a fairly normal day at work, including going to the gym, and I managed to spend about forty minutes researching trade between the US and the USSR. Nearly all the trade volume was grain, sold by the US to the USSR, and accounting for around 70% of all US exports to the Soviet Union. US exports to the USSR only accounted for between 1% and 2% of total US exports, and Soviet exports to the US accounted for only about two-tenths of a percent of total US imports.

The main challenge for the USSR was obtaining hard currency with which to buy imports, money that was largely derived from exports of natural resources -- oil, gas, timber, and metals. What the Soviets truly wanted from the West was technology, but that could not be had at any price due to sanctions, embargoes, and other restrictions on selling 'high technology' to Eastern Bloc nations.

The problem with those restrictions was that they were a dragnet, which ensnared even some basic equipment that had no specific strategic or military use. That had generated complaints from US businessmen about being hamstrung in expanding their markets in the East, though even with some of the restrictions lifted, the Soviet Union still lacked hard currency reserves with which they could pay for further imports.

When I left work, I went to Waldenbooks to get a copy of Roots for Keiko, then headed to Violet's house for dinner, as I usually did on nights when I had class.

"How is Keiko?" she asked once we'd greeted each other with a hug.

"Suffering from the side effects of the chemo," I replied. "But nothing more than was expected."

"Do you think she'd be OK with me visiting her?"

"I don't see why not," I replied. "You'll have to go during normal visiting hours, though, so I can't take you after class."

"I'll go tomorrow after work if you think that's OK."

"I do. Bianca and Deanna will visit her tomorrow afternoon. We do have to be careful about overwhelming her because she's going to feel progressively worse over the next few days, and the two following weeks are going to be the toughest."

"When will they know if it worked?"

"They'll have some idea on Monday," I replied. "But her doctor made it clear that there is a second round and possibly a third. None of those are uncommon, and I'm not sure what the criteria are for what she'll need. I'm sure the doctor will explain it on Monday."

"You have your exam on Monday, right?"

"Yes. So after Monday, we'll start with our Sunday dinners, if that's OK? And as we agreed, that won't be the only time we see each other."

"OK. I'll miss seeing you three times a week, but I understand."

"Why don't you pick four baseball games, and we'll go. I can try to get them from Spurgeon, but if not, I'll buy the tickets."

"Cool! You'd want to see the Reds if possible, right?"

"Yes."

"Changing topics," Violet said, "I like Glen, but he seems a bit old for Bev."

I shrugged, "I don't worry about things like that. Whatever makes people happy is OK with me. The government might care, but she was over sixteen, which is legal in Ohio. It's similar to the situation with the boys because, in quite a few states, gay sex is illegal. Honestly, it's nobody's business so long as everyone can legally consent, and even then, unless the girl is very young or improperly pressured, it's none of my business."

"Sure, but I was thinking more that it feels, I don't know, kind of creepy."

"Then my advice to you is not to have a relationship with an older guy. Bev is happier than she's been in two years, and I'm not about to do anything to mess that up."

"You're probably right; I'm just worried about her."

"My concern for Bev was that she was trying to run from her past and, in the process, cutting herself off from everyone who cared for her. Now, she's accepted help from the people who care for her and has embraced her past. That's good for her, good for Heather, and appears to be good for Glen. To me, that's all that matters. Fundamentally, do the things that make you happy and don't hurt others, and don't worry about what the rest of the world thinks."

"That's how you live your life, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Dinner's ready; let's eat so we can get to class."

We ate, cleaned up the kitchen, and then walked to Circle. Violet and I exchanged a hug, and she kissed my cheek before she went into the building where her class was held, as I was going straight to the hospital when my class ended. When I arrived in the lecture hall, Teri asked how Keiko was doing, and I gave her the same answer I'd given Violet. Once class ended, I hurried to my car, drove to the hospital, and used my all-hours pass to get in to see Keiko.

She was on her fifth day of intensive chemotherapy and was feeling really bad, suffering even more severe side effects, including nausea and diarrhea. She looked sick for the first time, and seriously so. I gave her the book, as well as three scarves Deanna had chosen, but I couldn't convince her to get out of bed. I didn't try too hard, given how she looked and how she said she felt, and just sat with her for about twenty minutes until a nurse brought a sedative to help Keiko sleep. I stayed in the room until she fell asleep, then headed home.

At home, I went up to my room, did my assignment for math class that I normally would have done at the diner with Violet, then went to bed.

June 2, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Thursday was like any other day until 1:30pm when I left the Hancock Center to walk the short distance to the offices of Hart-Lincoln for my meeting with Thomas Hart to secure their business. I had a folder with all the necessary forms and agreements in my satchel, along with a dozen copies of the prospectus for the individual investors.

My goal was to leave Hart-Lincoln with at least $5 million committed - $3.7 million from their retirement fund and another $1.3 million from partners. If I could do that, Noel Spurgeon's money would no longer make up the bulk of my fund, something I felt was important, both psychologically and for the long term.

That thought brought to mind something I hadn't considered -- would Noel Spurgeon add more money to my fund to, in effect, lock me in? The rules were such that he, and he alone, could redeem his shares at any time, and that would potentially create a huge tax liability for my fund. The problem was, there was no reasonable way for me to say 'no', if he offered to add money to my fund. But that was a concern for a future where I followed Jack's suggestion and went out on my own.

"Jonathan Kane from Spurgeon Capital to see Thomas Hart," I said to the gorgeous blonde receptionist.

"He's expecting you, Mr. Kane," she said. "His secretary will be right out to get you."

"Thank you."

A minute later, I was shown into a conference room where Thomas Hart was waiting.

"Good afternoon, Jonathan."

"Good afternoon, Thomas. As we agreed, I have the forms for you to sign, along with the instructions on how to wire the money and transfer the securities to the Cincinnatus Fund. You said you had a notary available?"

"Yes. She'll be here in a moment."

"OK. How many partners will I speak to today?"

"Five of the nine, which includes me. There are also two Senior Associates who would like to invest."

"That's fine," I replied. "The individual minimum is usually $100,000, as we discussed."

"They're aware."

A young woman in her early twenties came into the room, and Thomas introduced her as Kayleigh, a paralegal who was a Notary Public. Thomas and I reviewed the forms, copies of which he'd seen in advance, and ensured everything was in order. He signed, and the notary stamped the documents and made notations in her log book. Once everything was signed, Kayleigh took the documents to make copies and returned with them a few minutes later. She handed me the originals and handed the copies to Thomas.

"Give me five minutes, and I'll have the seven attorneys come in. Kayleigh will stay to notarize those forms as well. Can we get you something to drink? A Coke? Coffee? Water?"

"A Coke would be nice, thanks."

"Kayleigh, would you get Jonathan a Coke while I round up the herd?"

They both left, and Kayleigh returned about thirty seconds later with a bottle of Coke.

"Do you work in Compliance or Legal?" she asked.

"Neither. I'm a licensed securities broker. I work as an analyst but also run the fund listed on the paperwork you notarized."

"You must be older than you look."

"No, I'm twenty."

"Holy Toledo!" she gasped. "Sorry."

I chuckled, "I'm equally surprised about how well this has worked out for me."

"Where did you go to High School?"

"Goshen, Ohio. I moved here for a job with Spurgeon."

"From High school to a stockbroker in two years? Is your dad a stockbroker?"

"No. he died in a plane crash before I was born. Mind if I ask how long you've been a paralegal?"

"About a year."

"Two-year degree, right?"

"Yes. And yes, I'm twenty-one, if that is your way of asking my age!"

"No, just a question."

She pulled a pad to herself and wrote on it, tore off the sheet, and handed it to me.

"My home number," she said. "I hope you'll call."

There was no point in potentially creating a scene by refusing, so I folded the paper and put it in the inside pocket of my suit coat, knowing I probably wouldn't act on it because of Keiko. About a minute later, Thomas Hart returned with six other men whom he introduced. The notable missing person was Paul Lincoln, who was a distant relation to the 16th President.

I went over the prospectus with them, explained how the fee structure worked, and made sure they understood before they filled out the new account forms and the forms to transfer their current investment accounts to Spurgeon to be added to my Cincinnatus Fund. When I reviewed the forms, I kept a running total of the approximate amounts and was very happy, as the number actually came in at just over $5.5 million -- $3.7 million from the retirement fund and $1.8 million from the seven individual investors.

At the end of the session, I extended the dinner invitation that Mr. Matheson had suggested, and Thomas Hart accepted on behalf of the firm, though we agreed to set a date at a later time. He promised his assistant would be in touch, I shook hands with everyone, and with originals of all the forms safely in a folder in my satchel, I left Hart-Lincoln to walk back to the Hancock Center.

"Mr. Matheson is expecting you," Mia said when I stopped by her desk. "Go right in."

I went into the office, and Murray Matheson turned and looked up.

"Well?"

"5.5," I replied. "Five of the nine partners, plus two Senior Associates."

"Both name partners?"

I shook my head, "Not Paul Lincoln. I wasn't given a reason and didn't ask."

"You're an analyst; speculate."

"Paul Lincoln is seventy-two and likely to retire soon, and wants access to the money without a lockup period or redemption rules. Hart and the other partners are younger -- all fifty-eight or younger -- except Josh Cantor, who is sixty-eight. I'd say that's likely the reason for both Lincoln and Cantor."

"Good analysis, and I suspect you're right. Did you offer the meal?"

"Yes. Hart's secretary will call to set it up. I suspect arranging the schedules for seven attorneys won't be easy."

"Probably not. If it becomes too difficult, have two dinners. One extra meal for you won't break the bank!"

"Given Spurgeon Capital clears about a hundred grand from fees, I think we can afford it."

"Excellent work, Kane. I have four tickets to the Crosby, Stills, and Nash concert on Sunday at Chicago Stadium. Interested?"

"Very. Can't use them?"

"If I try to go to a concert on my anniversary, my wife will get fifty percent and then some!"

"Yeah, going to a concert might not be the best plan to avoid a divorce."

Nor was screwing secretaries at Spurgeon, including Mia, but that couldn't be said aloud.

"OK. I'll bring them tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"Anything on the police pension fund?"

"No. I'd have noted any movement in my morning report. I do have a note to call the detective to follow up on Monday."

"Get all the forms to Legal. Once they approve, they'll go to Compliance, then New Accounts. It should be streamlined unless any of them have any SEC restrictions."

"None," I replied. "I asked in advance. Obviously, someone could lie, but an attorney would know they'd be found out. The only thing that raised a minor red flag is that they've defended some corrupt Chicago politicians."

"Are there any other kind?" Mr. Matheson asked.

I chuckled, "Well, evidence suggests Mayor Washington is on the up and up. That's why the Machine is so upset."

And they were racist assholes, I thought, but didn't say. Of course, I worked for a firm that was predominantly white, and if you switched the word to 'Caucasian', then 'completely' was a better term, save one Chinese guy from Hong Kong.

"I agree it won't be a problem. There are no indications any judges or lawyers have been involved, despite all the rumors circulating that you can make things disappear for money."

"Shocker," I said flatly. "I have a friend who insists there are different rules for people with money."

"Obviously, but that nearly always involves paying off the alleged victim, not bribing judges!"

"Human nature being what it is, I suspect there are at least some corrupt judges, and if I have to tell you that there are corrupt lawyers, I'm going to ask what rock you've been living under!"

Mr. Matheson laughed, "Scumbag lawyer is redundant! The only reason we employ them is to protect ourselves from other members of their profession. Well, and government agents who are sent hither to eat of our substance!"

"That sounds familiar," I said. "But I can't place it."

"Thomas Jefferson, in the Declaration of Independence, listed the grievances, one of which was that the King of England had sent 'hither swarms of Officers to harrass our people and eat out their substance'. Does that sound like the Feds to you?"

"I'm not on board with the Reaganista hatred of government," I replied with a grin.

"You sound like Jesse Jackson!"

I chuckled, "I said it that way, knowing you lean Republican."

"You will, too, once you see your tax bill!"

"Taxes are the price for living in a civilized society with police and fire services, roads, schools, a military, and a social safety net. Those who make more should pay more."

"What are you? A fucking communist?"

"If I were, I sure as heck wouldn't be working here! I'm a moderate, but at Spurgeon, that makes me a bomb-throwing, left-wing radical! And Jennings was far to the left of me."

"What about your friend Pérez?"

"She, like Jack Clinton, is a typical conservative Chicago Democrat."

"Great. You're building your own subversive cell!"

"The only thing you and Mr. Spurgeon care about is making money, so long as nobody is actively stirring up dissension. Both Bianca and Jack are interested in making money. They'll check their politics at the door, just as I do, unless expressly asked, and even then, they'll be careful about what they say."

"Shut the door," he said.

I did as asked.

"So, what's your honest opinion of Spurgeon Capital? Between you, me, and the art on the walls, no action taken, no repercussions."

"Too white and too male," I said. "Chicago is about forty percent minority, and we don't even have a single black working here, one who is Chinese, and only one Hispanic; two if you count Pérez. There are no women with securities licenses, none in Legal, and none in Compliance."

"And in that white-shoe law firm?"

"Doesn't that term denote firms run by WASPs?" I asked.

"Indeed it does. How many partners were female or minority?"

"'They do it, too' is hardly a defense."

"Who are our customers?" Mr. Matheson asked.

"This sounds suspiciously like the 'only a black can represent blacks' or 'only an Hispanic can represent Hispanics' arguments I've heard from my political contact."

"How well would you have been received at Hart-Lincoln if you were a black kid from the projects who started in the mailroom?"

"Not well," I replied. "But aren't we just perpetuating racism at that point?"

"In the end, it comes down to business," Mr. Matheson said. "We aren't a white-shoe firm with Ivy League ties, but the majority of our clients are drawn from those firms. It would cost us business to do otherwise."

"And the business you might be leaving on the table from the black and Hispanic communities? Or from women like Margaret Lundgren?"

"That old bitch wouldn't care if the firm were run by Valerie Spurgeon, she would never give up control of her funds. And if you look at where wealth is accumulated, it's WASPs. We don't run a retail shop, so we go where the money is. Whatever you think about it, it's putting a ton of cash in your pocket. I'm curious; what would you do?"

"At least consider hiring minorities and women for staff positions. You're going to find Bianca Pérez to be one of the smartest people you've ever met."

"Fair enough. I'll forget this conversation if you do."

"Deal," I replied, knowing I couldn't force the kind of changes I thought needed to be made.

"Keep up the good work, Kane!"

"Thanks."

I left his office and took all the paperwork to Legal, then returned to my desk to complete my day. At 5:00pm, I left the office and headed to Violet's, where we had dinner. After dinner, we went to class, and then I made my daily trip to see Keiko. She was already asleep when I arrived, having been given a larger dose of sleeping medication. I sat with her for about fifteen minutes, then asked the nurse for an update.

"I think the best thing to say is that she's doing as we expected," Nurse Anne said. "The side effects are bad, but she's around the middle on those -- I've seen significantly worse. She's able to eat and keep food down with the anti-emetics, which is a big plus. Her electrolytes are in reasonable balance, given how badly chemo affects metabolism. Obviously, we won't know anything about the future until her blood work is reviewed by Doctor Morrison on Monday."

"Thanks. Could I have a pen and paper so I can leave Keiko a note so she knows I was here?"

"Of course. She did ask me to apologize to you for being asleep."

"No apology is necessary," I replied. "I'll come tomorrow afternoon around 3:30pm."

She handed me a pad, I wrote a brief note to Keiko, then took it to her room and put it on the table next to her bed. I returned to the nurses' station, handed back the pen and pad, then headed home. After I filled everyone in on Keiko's condition, I made sure Jack knew I'd be going in early so I could leave at 3:00pm. When I went upstairs, Deanna followed me.

"Bianca suggested we swap nights last night, want some company?" she asked. "Same as Bianca, if that's what you need."

"You heard me tell Jack I need to be up at 4:00am, so with that in mind, yes, if you're OK with it."

"I am," Deanna replied. "Tomorrow is the last day of classes, and I only have one exam -- the rest are all projects which I've completed and turned in."

"Cool. I never asked, but what's your Summer schedule?"

"I work six days a week at Venice, mostly evenings, but afternoons on Tuesday and Saturday. I'm off on Sundays."

"Have you heard from CeCi?"

"Yes. She'll be here on June 15th. I did let her know about Saint Martin being postponed. She was disappointed but totally understood."

We completed our bedtime routines, undressed, and climbed into bed. Deanna snuggled close, and, fortunately, I fell asleep almost right away.

June 3, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Friday, around 8:30am, I went up to the mailroom to have a word with Jack. Normally, we'd have had the drive to work to have a private talk, but I'd come in far too early for him to come along.

"I have four tickets for Crosby, Stills, and Nash on Sunday," I said. "Two of them are yours and Kristy's, if you want them. My date and I will meet you there."

"We're in," he said. "I'm sure she'll be OK with that. Who are you bringing?"

"A toss-up between Beth and Teri, but I think Teri because Beth would expect to come home with me."

"You're turning down sex with a hot, stacked chick?" Jack asked in surprise.

"I'm emotionally drained," I said. "I've never encountered anything like what's going on in my life, and it just doesn't feel right."

"Because of how you feel about Keiko?"

"That's a big part of it," I replied. "She isn't putting any limits on me, at least at this point, but I'm putting some limits on me. And it's not as if I'm lacking company, either. Importantly, both Bianca and Deanna understand and aren't making any demands."

"OK, I can see that. It makes sense, especially given you think Keiko is the one."

"It's certainly trending that way," I replied.

And that called into question the party Ellie had arranged. I'd have to give it some thought, and balance having given my word versus my current approach. One thing was certain -- if I did decide to participate, I'd tell her I was retiring, and she'd need to find a new player to take over my position. There was also the question of Ellie having a boyfriend, which might be a way out.

"Hopefully, you'll receive good news on Monday," Jack said.

"Hopefully," I agreed.

I left and went back to my desk and dialed Teri's house. I spoke to her mom and asked her to have Teri call me and let her know why. Mrs. Maguire was sure Teri would want to go and promised to have her call me when she arrived home from school.

I had a fairly busy day, and at 3:00pm, I left to head to the hospital to see Keiko.

"How are you?" I asked.

"It feels like they're trying to almost kill me to kill the cancer," she replied. "I constantly feel sick and barely feel like eating, my hair is falling out, I have severe headaches, my body is not working right, and sometimes I wonder..."

"50/50 is better than zero," I replied.

"Oh, I know," Keiko sighed.

"I assume they're giving you drugs to counteract the symptoms?"

"Yes, or they'd be a lot worse. How are you doing?"

"Good. I closed the deal with the law firm yesterday."

"What's your fee?" she asked.

"About a hundred grand, of which roughly a third is mine," I replied. "But that stays in the fund. The rest belongs to Spurgeon to pay the bills, and any excess is assigned to his accounts."

"You could take that out, right?"

"I could, but I won't. Well, I have to make provisions for taxes because the fees aren't covered by the 'carried interest' rules. Those only apply to my portion of the profits as unrealized gains."

"So you do all the work, and he gets most of it?" Keiko asked.

"Somebody has to pay the bills at Spurgeon," I replied. "That's what the fees cover. And making two percent is pretty trivial, so the clients will be 'whole' inside of a month. After that, it's pure profit for them."

"How much of your fund is yours now?"

"About $300 thousand," I replied.

"Unreal."

"TELL me about it!"

"You'll be a millionaire by age twenty-five!"

"At least," I replied. "But remember, that's not truly liquid. My liquid funds are from my paycheck, which is much more modest."

"But you could take it out, right?"

"I could, as I said, but it would hurt my clients and cost me significant taxes. I can easily live on my current salary and do all the things I want to do. The most important goal is building capital because that allows me to take larger positions and make plays I couldn't otherwise make."

"How much are you managing?"

"Not counting Jeri's trust fund, and including the new money, about $11.3 million. But $5 mil of that is Mr. Spurgeon's money."

"Mind-boggling."

"I know. But my income will still pale compared to Mr. Matheson, and even his pales compared to Mr. Spurgeon, who's worth over $300 mil. Think about this -- if he earns only a ten percent return, which is way lower than usual, he makes $30 mil a year."

"When are you buying the jet?" she asked.

I laughed, "Even Matheson can't afford a jet. And the corporation owns the jet, not Noel Spurgeon personally. They're expensive."

"Who's going out with you tonight?"

"Miranda," I replied. "Also, I was given tickets to see Crosby, Stills, and Nash on Sunday. Normally, I'd ask you to go with Jack, Kristy, and me, but I don't think they'll let you out of here for that."

"And as bad as I feel, I wouldn't enjoy it. Who did you ask?"

"Teri."

"Irish girl with red hair and green eyes or Japanese girl with black hair and brown eyes?"

"Easy decision!" I replied. "The Japanese girl!"

Keiko smiled, "You're sweet."

"I try. Did you see my note from last night?"

"Yes. I was just so tired and felt so bad I asked for sleeping pills. They gave me an injectable version because of my digestive trouble. It put me out like a light."

"I'll be able to come earlier after Monday. And on Monday, I plan to go to work early so I can leave early and be here when Doctor Morrison gives you the results of your tests."

"I appreciate you visiting, so long as you do stuff for yourself, too."

"I'm going out tonight at your insistence, and I'm going to the concert on Sunday. Before I forget, they should finish the flower beds today. They're looking good so far. Also, I heard from Brown Construction, and they have all the permits, so they'll begin work next week, starting with footers for the porch and a slab for the hot tub."

"Good."

"I'm looking forward to sitting in the tub with you."

"It'll be some time," she replied. "After they release me, I have to be very careful."

"Understood. We have the rest of our lives together to do that and everything else."

"You've decided?" she asked.

"You expressly asked me to wait, and so I will. But you know how I feel about you."

"I do. And you know how I feel about you."

I sat with her for an hour before I had to leave to meet Jack, Kristy, and Miranda at Maxim's for dinner. After dinner, we went to see WarGames, which was entertaining but ultimately silly. When the movie let out, the four of us went to Oberweis for ice cream.

"Did you want company tonight?" Miranda asked as we waited in line to order. "I'll understand if you don't."

I considered her offer, which was, in reality, a request, though she'd appropriately couched it as an offer. I quickly analyzed the situation and decided that because I'd asked her out, taking her home was the right thing to do, though I knew I could say 'no'.

"Yes," I replied. "I do need to say that I was up early this morning, so I need to get a decent amount of sleep."

Miranda laughed softly, "I don't need an all-night sex marathon. Not that those are bad, but I like being with you. You know how much I like you."

I nodded, "I know. The situation with Keiko has me a bit off kilter."

"My aunt had breast cancer at thirty-two," Miranda replied. "It had the entire family off kilter. I was ten, and it freaked me out."

"How'd it turn out?" I asked.

"It spread, and there wasn't anything more they could do. She died about a year after her diagnosis."

"My condolences."

"Sorry," she said quickly. "I probably shouldn't have brought that up."

"It's OK," I replied. "I know the potential outcomes and the odds. Not talking about them, or not talking about how others did, doesn't change things one way or the other."

"Most people wouldn't agree with that and would be upset."

"I'm not most people. I also know that your aunt's outcome has exactly zero effect and zero implications for Keiko's outcome. Not to mention, breast cancer and leukemia are two completely different things."

"Logical and analytical to the end."

"It's who I am and all I can be. That said, I do struggle with the emotional and psychological impact because it's not something I've ever encountered before."

"I believe there are support groups for the spouses and families of cancer patients."

"Probably, but sitting in a circle telling people how I feel is not my style, and it would likely annoy me more than help me."

We reached the front of the line and placed our orders. I paid, and once we had our ice cream, we went to sit by the window with Jack and Kristy, who had been in line in front of us. When we finished our ice cream, the four of us headed home in my car. At home, I saw a message that Teri had called and accepted for Sunday and asked that I please call her on Saturday to confirm.

Miranda and I went up to my room, and both used the bathroom before undressing.

"Let me," she said when we climbed into my bed.

I nodded, and she moved on top of me.

LIII. The Best Course of Action

June 4, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Saturday, after breakfast, I walked Miranda to the train so she could go home, then Bianca and I did the usual Saturday shopping. When we finished shopping at Jewel, we stopped at the dry cleaners to drop off and pick up my suits and shirts. After lunch, I called Teri to confirm the time for the concert and that I'd pick her up for dinner at 5:00pm. When the call ended, I packed a bag with a change of clothes and some reading material, then headed to Rush-Presbyterian to spend the day with Keiko.

Her induction chemotherapy was complete, so she only had an IV with D5LR, which was the sugar and electrolyte mix. She was feeling terrible and looked haggard, which didn't surprise me, as she'd looked progressively worse each day. But, as far as I could tell, the worst was behind her as she'd begin recovering. The main question was how effective the chemotherapy had been.

"How are you?" I asked.

"Lousy," she said. "I'm cold, even with warm blankets, my insides feel like they've been scrambled, and you know the gross parts."

"Sleep as much as you need to," I said. "I brought plenty to read, and I'm happy with just being in the room with you."

"You don't have to stay," she said.

"You're right. I don't, but I intend to unless you tell me to leave."

"Violet was here for about twenty minutes this morning, but I was so tired that was all I could manage."

"And the other girls are visiting, right?"

"Yes. What did you do last night?"

"We had dinner at Maxim's, saw WarGames, then went to Oberweis for ice cream. The movie was entertaining but kind of silly. Are you feeling up for a short walk?"

"No. I don't think I could get out of bed if I wanted. They put in a catheter, and I have to use a bedpan. I had a transfusion this morning, which should help."

"Did it make you feel better at all?"

"Not the way it did before, no, but my oxygen saturation level is up. I'll have another one later in the week. Do you mind if I close my eyes?"

"Not at all. I'm here for whatever you need."

Keiko closed her eyes, and I took out the most recent edition of The Economist and began reading. The lead article was on Britain under Margaret Thatcher, who I had predicted would win the upcoming election in a landslide over Labour.

Keiko was woken about an hour later by the nurse. The nurse checked Keiko's vitals, then checked the catheter, which had to be uncomfortable given where it was inserted. After the check, Keiko went back to sleep almost right away.

I finished The Economist and began reading the latest edition of Crain's, which covered the completely dysfunctional Chicago city government, with no end to the standoff in sight, and predictions it would last at least until the next election. That didn't bode well for Marcia, and when I spoke to her, I'd advise her to apply for what was, in effect, her old job.

The special election to replace Washington in Congress would be held on August 23, and I fully expected Charles Hayes to win with something close to 95% of the vote against token Republican opposition and an independent candidate. Given that, Marcia getting in touch with him immediately made sense, as there really was no risk in doing so. That would be better for her and, obviously, better for me, though I was more concerned about her.

When Keiko woke up around 4:30pm, I asked her about a walk, and she declined, which didn't surprise me. Wanting to be supportive, I didn't argue with her, as I was positive the medical staff would be the 'bad cop' and force her to get out of bed at some point, probably soon.

"You know, it's silly for you to sleep here in that uncomfortable chair," Keiko said.

"Actually, the chair is very comfortable," I replied. "I slept fine last weekend."

"Seriously, Jonathan, I'm sleeping most of the time. Go home, come see me tomorrow before your concert, then evenings after work; well, after your final exam on Monday."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I'm just too tired to do anything, and even talking for more than five minutes wears me out."

"I feel as if I'm abandoning you," I replied.

"You've come here every single day since I was admitted! How is that abandoning me?"

I smiled, "I didn't say it was, just that it felt that way."

"A typically Jonathan thing to say! And you need to take care of yourself. I have a swarm of doctors, nurses, and techs taking care of me. Right now, knowing how much you care about me is the most important thing. Come see me in the morning, OK?"

"Yes," I said, reluctantly acquiescing to her request. "I'd kiss you, but that's off-limits, right?"

"A peck on the lips is safe; I asked Doctor Van Zant this morning. But right now, you can't take off your mask in the room."

I nodded, then squeezed her hand in lieu of a kiss.

"I'll come by tomorrow morning," I said.

Keiko smiled, then closed her eyes, as even the short conversation had seemingly worn her out. I picked up my bag and left the room. Nobody was expecting me home, so I stopped at the pay phone and called Bev to see if she and Heather were busy. She wasn't, so I suggested I come by, and we take Heather for a walk in Grant Park, which was easily accessible by foot from the apartment over the tailor shop.

"How is Keiko?" Bev asked when I arrived.

"In bad shape, but supposedly she's through the worst of it, and now she begins recovering from the chemo. We'll know how well it worked on Monday afternoon. Shall we head for Grant Park?"

"Yes."

I carried Heather's stroller down the steps, and after Bev locked the door, she brought Heather down and we put her in the stroller and began walking east towards the lake.

"Do you think Keiko would mind if I visited?"

"No. Just coördinate with Bianca because we're trying not to overwhelm Keiko. Violet was there this morning."

"OK. I'll call Bianca," Bev agreed.

"How are things with Glen?" I asked.

"Good. He let me know you mentioned you'd help him find a job if he decided to move to Illinois."

"I have contacts, though I don't know how much weight they might carry. But I'll certainly use every one of my limited contacts to help. What does Heather think?"

"She's a baby!" Bev protested.

"OK, yes, but does she like him?"

"She doesn't fuss when he holds her, so I'd say she does."

"So, now what?" I asked.

"He gives his notice on Friday, which is the last day of school. I checked with Beth and she's OK if he moves in with Heather and me, though it would only be temporary."

"That serious?"

"I believe the little bundle of joy in the stroller is evidence that we already did that!"

"Obviously, but you know what I meant!"

"We discussed the future," Bev replied.

"AND?"

Bev laughed softly, "You're cute when you're frustrated!"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Miss Newton!"

"We discussed getting married," Bev said. "And if he asks, I'll say 'yes'."

"I think that's a good thing for both you and Heather," I said. "But that also raises the question of reconciling with your parents."

"I don't want to," Bev declared.

"You sound like a petulant toddler," I replied. "Not that I have a lot of experience with toddlers!"

"Why is that so important to you? You're estranged from your grandparents."

"Keiko suggested I reconcile with them, something her grandfather would expect, and I agreed to try."

"My dad will completely lose it if he finds out about Glen being Heather's dad."

"Don't you think they'll eventually find out? And wouldn't you prefer it to be on your terms, not theirs?"

"How would they find out?"

"Well, they might put two and two together and come up with Glen, but more likely, the private investigator will look for you again in a month or two. Eventually, they'll find you. I believe the only reason we avoided it was that your dad ran out of money to continue the intensive surveillance. You have a job, Heather is in daycare, you own a car, and so on. Eventually, you'll be found unless you change your name, Social Security Number, Heather's name, and so on, and have the court seal the records. Short of Witness Protection, I don't see that happening."

"Isn't it up to me?"

"I think so, and you obviously think so; your parents do not think so. I believe you're better off getting in touch with them and telling them what's going on versus them finding out from the investigator. You know I'll help you in any way I'm able."

"Would you talk to them?"

"I don't think your dad is in any mood to have a conversation with me, and he'll accuse me of hiding or sheltering you."

"Your mom is still on good terms with my mom, right?"

"Yes, though I'm not sure she's the best one to speak to your mom, given your relationship with Glen and her past relationship with him. You could always write a letter and use my house as a return address. But in the end, it won't matter because I believe they will track you down. I won't belabor the point now, but you should call your parents."

"How did your mom react?"

"I haven't spoken to her for two weeks. I plan to call her tomorrow. I need to fill her in on Keiko. But I think she'll respect Glen for stepping up to help you with Heather."

"You know, I forgot to ask, but how did things go with Mr. Hart?"

"Great, actually. Several of the partners and senior associates decided to put their money into my fund in addition to the retirement funds."

"You're doing amazing, Jonny. I'm really proud of you."

"Thanks. Do you know Kayleigh O'Connell?" I asked.

"The paralegal? Why?"

"She gave me her number on Thursday after she notarized the forms."

"She's the granddaughter of Thomas Hart and is really sweet. Are you going to call her?"

"My life is a little too complicated at the moment, not to mention how I feel about Keiko."

"Before she got sick?" Bev asked. "Or after?"

"Before," I replied. "Her diagnosis just forced me to think clearly and seriously about how I feel about her."

"Just don't make any rash decisions."

"Who are you talking to?" I asked. "Do I ever make rash decisions?"

"My sixteenth birthday!" Bev smirked.

"That was YOUR decision! I was just along for the ride, to so speak!"

"YOU!" Bev squealed.

"Sorry," I replied with a goofy smile. "But the question remains, do I ever make a rash decision?"

"No, you're very analytical."

"So, do you think I'd act rashly?"

"No, but cancer diagnoses are pretty intense. Even the most rational people don't act rationally."

"Point taken," I replied. "And I'll admit I've been feeling a bit odd and out of sorts, but everything I've done has been considered and careful. That was true when I helped you when you were in Kansas. Ask Bianca -- methodical, logical, calm, and considered. About the only time I wasn't that way was when Heather was born."

"You were perfectly calm!"

"On the outside, to be strong for you! On the inside, I was more than a little freaked out by the whole process."

"You were amazing the whole time, including at the hearing and after. Just be smart, Jonny."

"I will be."

"Is it OK to ask what happens after Monday?"

"All I know is there's a recovery period, and then she has a second round of chemo called the consolidation phase, intended to wipe out any cancer left after the round she just had. In some cases, there's a third phase, the maintenance phase, which depends on the results of the first two phases."

"And then she's cured?"

"The goal is remission, which means they don't find any cancerous cells. If the patient stays in remission for five years, then they're considered cured. In Keiko's situation, about half the patients survive five years."

"Half?"

"That's the number. All we can do is wait and see."

It was a beautiful day, with mostly clear skies and temperatures in the mid-70s. We walked a circuit around Grant Park, then returned to Bev's apartment. When she said she was going to put Heather down for a nap, I said 'goodbye', we hugged, and I headed home to find an empty house. Nobody would be home before 11:00pm, and I considered what I should do, deciding to take a chance on calling Marcia. I asked her to have dinner, and we agreed on Lou Malnati's for pizza.

I picked her up, we had a nice meal and a good conversation, and during dessert, I gave her my advice about applying for a position with putative Congressman Charles Hayes.

"I'm not sure I could do that," Marcia replied. "I accepted the job, and I should at least try to do it."

"I agree, but is the City going to do anything? And being in receivership, without some significant action from the City of Chicago or the State of Illinois, you're simply going to be beating your head against the wall. Apply for a senior position in future Congressman Hayes' staff and see what happens."

"What would I say about why I wanted to leave?"

"That you preferred a role as a Congressional staffer to a role with the city. And there are several other legislative districts where you could look for a job. I'm positive they'd be interested in someone with good experience. You want to effect change, and I don't see that happening in the Chicago Housing Authority. Be honest -- do you?"

"No," Marcia admitted. "I don't. It's worse than I expected, and I don't see it improving any time soon."

"Then I think, given you have other opportunities, you should look into the possibilities."

"You're probably right; let me think about it."

We finished our dessert, and I drove Marcia to her townhouse, where, as I expected, she asked me to come inside, with the implication of spending the night. I wasn't really in the mood because Keiko was on my mind, not to mention I had a busy Sunday, visiting her, dinner with Teri, and the concert, not to mention needing time to study for my final exam.

"Raincheck?" I asked.

"Is that just a way of saying 'no' politely?"

I laughed, "Yes, but no. It was a polite way of saying 'no', but it wasn't intended as 'never'. I just have a lot on my mind. I have a busy day tomorrow, and I have a final exam on Monday night. As the dumb cliché line goes -- it's not you, it's me. But it really is me and my situation, not you."

"Keiko?"

"That's a big part of it because I'm seriously concerned about her, and I spend a lot of time thinking about her situation."

"I can't even imagine what she's going through, and I don't want to."

"Which is why I, and her other friends, need to be there for her. Granted, right now, she spends most of her time sleeping, but given the first round of chemo was completed Friday, she should be on the upswing. Of course, that's easy for me to say when she has another month in the hospital and, at some point after that, the next round of chemo. I promise I'll call, and we'll get together again soon."

"I understand," Marcia replied.

I double-parked, walked her to the door, we exchanged a quick kiss and hug, and after she went inside, I headed home.

June 5, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"I see you didn't stay the night," Bianca said when she came into the front room where I was studying on Sunday morning.

"Keiko strongly encouraged me not to simply sit in the recliner next to her bed all day, given she's mostly sleeping and becomes run down simply by talking for more than about five minutes. They gave her a transfusion yesterday, which should help, and they'll give her more until her blood count is in an acceptable range, though there is some limit which I don't fully understand."

"Did you ask?"

"I will when I see Doctor Morrison on Monday afternoon. I'm going in early so I can see Keiko before my exam."

"Have you studied enough?"

"I did all the practice problems and had no trouble with them, and I've reviewed every chapter. With my homework and mid-term scores, I can earn an A with a grade as low as 82% on my final. I'm confident I can do that."

"What did you do last night?"

"Had dinner with Marcia but then came home."

"You seem a bit out of sorts," Bianca observed.

"Because I am. This is all new to me, including how I'm feeling."

"You've never known anyone who was really sick, have you?"

"No, nor has anyone close died. There was Paula, but she and I weren't close, even though we had fooled around."

"Close in proximity, not emotionally," Bianca replied. "You and the girls who live here are both. Well, not Shelly now, but in the past."

"True."

"Before I forget, how are you handling the hot tub installation?"

"The foreman will be here at 6:00am on the 13th, so I'll see him before I head into work. Deanna will be here in the mornings all week, as her shifts at Venice Café are all in the afternoon and evenings. If there are any problems, they'll speak to her, and she'll call me. I'm positive I can handle everything over the phone because Marcus Washington and I worked really well together on the Spurgeon expansion."

"The same guy does commercial and residential?"

"I suspect he was assigned because of the past relationship. And it's not as if he'll have to be here a lot. The most time-consuming and difficult part of this entire project is permitting and inspection. Building a deck isn't rocket science, though I wouldn't want to try it because I don't have that particular skill set. Start to finish, including inspections, it'll take ten days, and part of that is waiting for the concrete footers and slab to dry."

"I didn't have a chance to say that the flowerbeds look really nice. Who's going to maintain them?"

"I have a card from the landscaping company that did the work; they provide full-service landscaping, including lawn mowing, seeding, fertilizing, weeding, and so on. All stuff I could do but simply don't have time to do. Mom and I had a garden at home where we grew vegetables, so I know how; it just makes more sense to pay someone else to do it."

"That's an interesting change from when I first met you."

"Jeri made the point that one of the main benefits of having money is being able to focus on what you do well and pay others to do things they do well on your behalf."

"And you certainly have the money to do it after closing that deal on Thursday!"

"I can't be profligate," I countered, "but I can spend money wisely. It's really a function of weighing the value of my time and where I allocate it and ensuring I apply my skills and experience to things that generate the highest expected value, and that's almost always going to be investing."

"I think that makes sense, and you're the last person I would think who would let the money go to his head.

"It, like almost everything else, is a means to an end, not an end in and of itself."

"What's the 'end' in your mind?"

"What I've said all along -- a comfortable life, a family, a house, and the resources to do the things I want to do. Everything I do is towards those ends. Will I end up rich? Very likely, but being rich isn't an end, just a means to an end. Having a pile of money and not having friends or family would be depressing."

"You know people like that?"

"There are a few at Spurgeon whose only goal in life appears to be amassing wealth, despite how being driven by that goal ruins their lives outside of work. There have been a few ugly divorces and quite a few estranged kids, not to mention the whole 'coke and hookers' problem. I can see how it would be fairly easy to be caught up in that, and it's something I need to watch out for as I climb the ladder."

"I think you'll stay grounded because I can't imagine you changing your group of working-class friends -- firefighters, photographers, artists, government workers, and so on. Sure, you'll have friends like Jeri, but you're far more compatible with Deanna than you are with Jeri."

"As I've said to Jeri, we have a future as business partners and friends, but that's it, despite her intimation that we'd make the perfect Chicago power couple."

Bianca laughed, "That's actually bad marketing on her part, as that's not something that interests you at all!"

"You're not wrong. Did Shelly get her things moved?"

"Yes. She and I cleaned the room, so it's all set for CeCi to move in. Juliette has almost all her things here, and after her last exam on Thursday, she'll formally move out of the dorm."

"Cool."

The phone rang just then, and I got up to answer it.

"Kane," I said.

"Hi, Jonathan! It's Violet. Do you have a few minutes?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"I was looking at the schedules for the Cubs and White Sox. The first thing I noticed is that the only time the Reds are in town, it's three day games during the week in August."

"The downside of Wrigley not having lights. I'd rather not have either of us take time off to go to a ballgame."

"That's what I figured. We could see a double-header against Montreal on July 4th. Given it's at Wrigley, it has to end before dark, so we could easily make it to somewhere to see fireworks."

"I had considered a party for the Fourth, but why don't you see if you can get two dozen tickets in the bleachers, and we'll take everyone to the game. I'll reimburse you, obviously."

"It's Montreal, and they never draw well, so I'm sure we can get tickets. We can also go to a broker if necessary."

"Find out the options for that, please. What else?"

"The Mets on August 7th, though that's probably a tough ticket. I know you prefer the National League, but tickets to see the Yankees on July 30th or the Orioles on August 13th are probably easier to get, even if we have to sit high up in the upper deck at Comiskey."

I quickly looked at the calendar and saw no reason not to go to those games.

"The Sox games are fine," I replied. "And as I said, see what we can do about the Fourth."

"I'll call tomorrow from work and find out. I just wanted to confirm the games with you. See you tomorrow?"

"Yes."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then went back to the front room. Bianca had gone upstairs, so I resumed studying, finishing about an hour later. I had lunch with Bianca and Deanna, then showered and dressed for my dinner and concert date with Teri, then left for the hospital, where I'd visit with Keiko before I picked up Teri.

"How are you doing?" I asked after greeting Keiko, who was wearing a scarf over her head full-time now.

"I have a bit more energy," she replied. "I did walk with help from a candy striper this morning, but one walk up and down the corridor did me in."

"I'm glad you got out of bed," I replied.

"They also removed the catheter from my back this morning. If I need a second round, they'll reinsert it."

"What about the one on your chest?"

"It'll stay until I don't need transfusions. They may or may not leave it for the next round, depending on what we find out tomorrow."

"How do you feel otherwise? I mean, besides the digestive problems?"

"Reasonably OK," she replied. "I don't itch as badly, and the rash has mostly cleared. I still have the catheter, which is uncomfortable, but until I can get out of bed by myself, it'll stay in."

"And the IV?"

"It should come out tomorrow if I can keep food down with oral anti-emetics. It worked for breakfast and lunch, but that was just toast with jam and juice and chicken broth and bread."

"But you didn't get sick to your stomach?"

"Just queasy, and the pills they gave me worked."

"That all sounds good," I observed.

"What did you do after you left?" Keiko asked.

"I called Marcia, we had dinner, then I went home and went to bed early."

"Good. Don't neglect your friends, please."

"I hear you loud and clear. Did your family visit today?"

"This morning, including my cousin, Ailea. My grandfather has come almost every morning at the start of visiting hours, along with my grandmother. My parents have visited on alternate days. And you know about the girls' visits from Bianca, I'm sure. I'm also positive you know Violet visited."

"I do. Violet asked me about it, and I encouraged her to visit."

"It's a bit overwhelming at times, but I totally appreciate how much you all care."

"Is there anything else you need?"

"No. I wasn't really able to read much, so I barely started Roots. When you have a chance, would you pick up a copy of The Stand, by Stephen King? No rush because it'll be at least a week."

"What's that one about?"

"A virus escapes a government lab and kills over 99% of the population. It's a classic good versus evil story that focuses on the aftermath."

"I'll pick up a copy on Tuesday after work. I was thinking it might be better to visit you right after work than after dinner and only stay about an hour, as that seems to be about your limit for being awake."

Keiko smiled, "Thank you for understanding. I know your nature is to want to be here, but that time can be spent doing something productive rather than sitting in a chair watching me sleep."

"You know I'll spend as much time here as you want."

"I know. And in a week, I'll probably feel better and be able to stay awake and alert longer, and we can change. One week at a time, OK? I feel that the best course of action."

"OK."

I stayed with Keiko until it was time to leave to pick up Teri, and, as we'd done the day before, I simply squeezed Keiko's hand to avoid exposing me to the chemo drugs which thoroughly infused her body and to avoid exposing her to any germs.

Eleven minutes after I left Keiko's room, I walked up to the door of the Maguires' house and rang the bell. Teri opened the door, gave me a quick hug, then called 'goodbye' back into the house. We got into my car and headed for Parthenon in Greek Town for dinner, as it was relatively close to Chicago Stadium, where the concert was being held.

"How is your friend?"

"Slowly recovering from the side effects of the first round of chemo," I replied.

"With all that's going on, are you ready for our exam tomorrow evening?"

"I am. I studied and did all the practice problems. You?"

"Totally."

"What about your other exams?"

"Waived for Seniors who have A's in their courses, and I have all A's."

"I'm not surprised. Troy has all A's as well?"

"Of course! We're tied for first in class rank. He's giving the valedictory speech because I wasn't interested. They offered the salutatory speech, but I declined, too."

"Why?"

"Ask me to play an instrument or sing, and I'm there! Ask me to speak publicly? No thanks!"

"When is your graduation ceremony?"

"Thursday afternoon. I know you work. Otherwise, I'd have invited you."

"When do you leave for UofI?"

"The third week in August, if we don't get married."

I chuckled, "Do you have a ring in your pocket?"

Teri laughed, "I wasn't proposing!"

"Yes, you were! Even if it was couched as a hypothetical, it's exactly what you meant!"

"Maybe..." she said lightly.

"You're positive that's the thing to do?"

"Let me put it in 'Jonathan terms' -- a means to an end. I want to go to bed with you, so therefore, I want to get married."

"I would hope there's more to it than that!" I exclaimed.

"Obviously! I would only marry a guy who I felt would be a good partner, but it's also true that he has to be someone with whom I wanted to go to bed."

"This is not meant to try to change your mind, but it might be that you've drawn your line in the wrong location."

"I don't think so. Let's assume I erase the line, and we go to bed together, and it doesn't work out for whatever reason. Then I start seeing someone else, and it happens again. While I'm not saying girls who have more than one partner are sluts, at some point, it does become 'too many'."

"And 'too many' is more than one?"

"From my perspective, I almost think it has to be because once it's more than one, there isn't really a logical stopping place, so to speak."

"Just out of curiosity, let's say you marry and are, as you plan to be, a virgin on your wedding night. Years later, if something happens -- divorce or death -- what do you do? Remain chaste for the rest of your life?"

"First of all, I don't believe in divorce except in cases of abuse or infidelity, so that's not likely. But if my husband died, I wouldn't see marrying again as somehow breaking my rule. I mean, yes, technically, it would, but not, if you get my drift. And to circle back, I can't imagine you cheating on me or abusing me, so divorce isn't a concern."

"Is that a Catholic thing? I know the Church objects to divorce."

"They do, but for me, if you take a vow that says 'until death do us part', either you mean it, or you don't. If you don't, why take it? If you do, that means working through all the challenges -- 'to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part'. You pride yourself on being a man of your word, so I think you can relate."

I nodded, "I do, and I tend to agree with you, though I would never require someone to stay in a marriage when they were unhappy."

"You mean in general or specifically?"

"In general. Specifically, I can't imagine not being able to work things out to find a 'win-win' solution. That's always my goal for any kind of deal, financial or otherwise. If I try to win at the expense of someone else, I create animosity. That's not saying I won't employ strategies to maximize my position, but not at the direct expense of another person."

"But isn't that how the stock market works?"

"No. It is, for all intents and purposes, a free market where nobody is required to buy or sell unless they've voluntarily entered into a contract. I make an offer to buy or offer to sell something, and someone else agrees to sell or buy. I don't compel them one way or the other except insofar as I make an offer to buy or sell.

"A perfect example is stock in Johnson & Johnson after the Tylenol murders -- people freely offered their shares for sale, and I chose to buy them. I didn't take advantage, I paid the asking price, and the transactions were completely voluntary. Nobody had to sell. I know it might seem weird, but that is a win-win situation. They achieved their goal of selling their stock, and I achieved my goal of buying their stock."

"But they lost money, right?"

"If so, it was through their own choices and actions. Let's assume the value of their shares had declined below the price they paid. They hadn't, at that point, actually lost even a penny. Setting aside margin calls, nothing forced them to sell, and they could have held the stock until it recovered, which it has. What they had before they sold were paper losses, which are of similar character to unrealized gains, that is, gains on paper. Until you buy or sell, it's all simply theoretical. So the only way they lost money was by their own hand."

"Is it rude to ask how much money you made?"

"Not as much as I would have if I had more money to play with at the time!" I chuckled. "I only made a few thousand dollars."

"Listen to you!" Teri said lightly. "Only a 'few thousand dollars'!"

"My mentor will make around $2 million this year from fees and commissions."

"And that's your future?"

"If I don't blow it," I replied.

"And if I do?" she asked with a smirk.

"A preliminary that generally leads to the main event," I replied.

"You know the cost of admission!"

"I do!"

We arrived at the restaurant, I parked, and we went inside. We were seated right away and quickly scanned the menus as we didn't want to dally. The waiter took our orders and returned right away with our drinks and, about three minutes later, with our small Greek salads.

"I noticed you didn't push back about the discussion," Teri observed.

"Because it didn't seem like pressure or dangling bait," I replied. "That's the real difference between today and the 'put up or shut up' ultimatum two months ago. I didn't feel you were trying to drag me into an argument, just rationally discuss the situation. That's an important difference."

"May I say something without starting an argument?"

"You may, but I may simply cut off the conversation if I feel it's going to simply be an argument."

"I was very tempted to go home with you and..."

She left the phrase hanging, so I decided to complete it for her.

"...fuck?" I asked quietly.

"Yes."

"And you know why I would have turned you down, right?"

"Because you believe that, in my mind, going to bed together would commit you to a certain course of action."

I nodded, "That's absolutely true. I don't think you could engage in casual sex, even if outwardly you appeared to be doing so."

"Again, not trying to start an argument, but you seem to be able to do that without a thought."

"You and I have very different views on that, even if we agree that fidelity has to reign supreme in any committed relationship."

"No rebuke or reproof intended, but if I understand you correctly, you're OK with having sex with any willing girl to whom you're attracted."

"Let me temper that slightly -- I'm open to the idea. That doesn't mean I would, in every case, but I'd consider it. The one caveat would be a situation where I suspected the girl in question would believe it was some kind of commitment or pledge."

"Dozens?" she asked.

I nodded, "Yes."

"And that doesn't bother you in any way?"

"I don't view sex as a moral question, only an ethical one. So long as I behaved ethically, didn't take advantage, and didn't mislead them, there's no problem. And to the best of my knowledge, I haven't. I believe it's safe to assume you disagree; I mean on the morals versus ethics point, which is the important question, not the number."

"I'm not sure how I'd classify it, but at some point, it has to be considered excessive."

"Isn't that for each person to decide for themselves?" I countered.

"So you'd be OK if I had gone to bed with dozens of guys?"

"It's not really my place to pass judgment on that," I replied. "I certainly can't do so without having a double standard, and I won't do that. Remember, I don't put any particular value on virginity, and that would apply to whomever it is I marry. The only thing I'd expect is fidelity and frank discussions about preferences."

"How would you expect me to express preferences when I haven't done anything?"

"Through investigation and discovery, of course! Simply 'I like that' or 'I do not like that' or 'I like this better than that'. Unless you're harboring some latent fetish or kink, I doubt it'll be a problem!"

"I wouldn't even know how to answer that! Sex ed in a Catholic school is pretty much limited to periods and admonitions to not do it, and not use 'substitute' behaviors condemned by the Church."

I laughed, "An interesting way to refer to 'unapproved' activities, which, if I understand correctly, eliminates anything except things which allow for procreation."

"Pretty much. But I don't accept those teachings, including about birth control, as we discussed. I'm curious, but are you actually considering my suggestion?"

"I always consider my options, including that one. I can see many advantages and no real disadvantages, but I don't feel I'm in a position to say anything definitively."

"Is there a reason?" Teri asked. "If you're willing to share it, that is."

There were actually several, including Keiko as well as my agreement with Bianca.

"I think the best answer is that I'm not prepared to make the stark choice which I'm being presented, and that goes for anyone, not just you. That said, I don't want to foreclose your suggestion, either. Let's eat, see the concert, and see how things develop before mid-August. Sound good?"

"Sounds good."

LIV. Neither Best Nor Worst

June 5, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"What did you think?" I asked when Teri and I got into my car after the concert at Chicago Stadium, having said 'goodbye' to Jack and Kristy.

"I liked it," she replied. "What's your favorite song they played?"

"It's between Just a Song Before I Go and Southern Cross. You?"

"Those two, or Wasted on the Way. Not that any of their songs are bad."

"True," I agreed. "Including the covers they performed. It's early enough to have the dessert that we skipped at dinner."

"Poppin Fresh Pies?" she suggested. "I could really go for a slice of Dutch apple, warmed up, a la mode."

"Where?"

"Harlem and Foster. The quickest way is probably the Kennedy to Harlem, rather than trying to take Harlem all the way north. About twenty minutes, I think."

"How late are they open?"

"10:00pm on Sundays. Now that I think about it, we'd be cutting it close."

"How about the diner by Circle? It's open twenty-four hours, and they have good pies, though I don't know if they have Dutch apple. What is that, by the way?"

"Apple pie but with a brown sugar- and cinnamon-flavored crumbled crust on top."

"That actually sounds really good, and I don't recall seeing that in their pie display case."

"It's OK. I'm sure they'll have something I like."

They didn't have Dutch apple, so Teri ordered peach cobbler instead, and I ordered a slice of pecan, which was my favorite. After our pie, I drove Teri home, where I walked her to the door.

"Would you like a goodnight kiss?" Teri asked.

"I would," I replied.

As we had the previous time she'd asked that question, we exchanged a soft French kiss, and she pressed her firm body against mine, and it did make me think about the 'coming attractions' she'd mentioned the previous time, but not enough that I was about to do something rash or foolish. The kiss lasted nearly a minute before she stepped back, said 'good night', and went into the house.

I returned to my car and headed home, where I quickly completed my bedtime routine and went to bed alone, given I planned to wake up early on Monday morning.

June 6, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Monday morning I was up very early, ate breakfast alone, then drove to the Hancock Center alone. I completed my usual morning routine, then at 8:30am, I placed a call to Detective Sergeant Bill Thomas in Overland Park. He wasn't at his desk, so I left a message with another detective, asking that Sergeant Thomas please return my call. Just before 11:00am, he did. He had no specific updates, but he did say he'd heard positive things and that I could expect an invitation to make a formal presentation before the end of the month.

As usual for a Monday, I ate lunch at my desk, then went to the gym to work out. After lunch, I placed a call to the Soviet Embassy and asked for the Office of the Trade Attaché. I was transferred, and a male voice answered, stating he was secretary to the Trade Attaché, Ivan Konstantinovich Voronin.

"My name is Jonathan Kane, and I'm a securities analyst with Spurgeon Capital in Chicago. I'm researching trade between the United States and the Soviet Union, and I'd like to gather some information about trade in general, but also specifically about Belarus Tractors near Milwaukee. I'd also like to speak to, or perhaps meet, the Trade Attaché."

"Minister Voronin is very busy, but I can provide you with some information. May I send you packet of information about trade and Soviet industry?"

"That would be good," I replied. "Thank you."

"What do you propose to do with information?"

"Part of my job is to understand international trade and currencies. I know very little about the Soviet Union, and not much was taught in school."

"American schools do not even teach importance of alliance with Soviet Union against fascists. You mentioned Belarus Tractors. Is very successful. You are in Chicago, so I could arrange visit, if you like, and you could speak to Managing Director, Viktor Bykov."

"Thank you. Let me give you my address, and once I read the packet of information, I'll be in touch."

I gave him the Spurgeon address, along with my name and phone number, and he promised to send the material right away. I thanked him and ended the call. I still wasn't sure what I was going to do with the information or if I could somehow parley it into even a tiny bit of insight into the Soviet Union. It was a long shot and might not pay off, but it wasn't costing me anything.

I left the office at 2:30pm and headed to Rush-Presbyterian so that I could be with Keiko when Doctor Morrison came to see her at 3:00pm. I arrived early, and he was a few minutes late. I greeted her, and I could tell she was feeling a bit better, even though overall, she was still suffering from the severe side effects of the chemo.

"I have your results, Keiko. Due to privacy rules, I'm required to ask if it's OK if Jonathan is in the room when we discuss them, even though he's been at every appointment so far."

"Of course," Keiko replied.

"Your blast count was reduced significantly," Doctor Morrison said, "but it wasn't eliminated. That's not the best outcome, but neither is it the worst. Most people still have some blast cells after induction and anything less than 5% is considered remission. In your case, your blast count is about 14%. That's a reduction of about 60%. On the very positive side, there are no signs of blasts in your spinal fluid.

"The bottom line is that the first round of chemo was successful, as it significantly reduced your blast count. What that means is we continue as we had planned. Once your blood chemistry is back to normal and you're not experiencing any serious side effects, we'll begin the consolidation phase, but without the intrathecal treatment. The goal is to further reduce the blast count to the point where you're in remission. I'm sure you have questions, so please ask."

"Did this change the prognosis?" Keiko asked.

"I can't say one way or the other at this point," Doctor Morrison replied. "We'll continue to monitor your blood chemistry while you recover from the chemo and watch the progression very carefully."

"Do you have a rough idea of when the next round would start?" she asked.

"I would say, based on experience, anywhere from four to six weeks. The consolidation phase consists of five days of treatment, every four weeks, for three to four months."

"Will I have to be in the hospital?"

"More than likely, yes, at least for the first round, given the amount of remaining blast cells. That said, a five-day course of the single drug, rather than the double cocktail, should not have the same severity of side effects. After that first round, we'll reëvaluate."

"Where is this on the scale of typical results?" I asked.

"For someone Keiko's age, slightly more than half the patients enter partial remission, that is, having a blast count ratio under 5%. Those have the best prognoses. About 20% see reductions of less than 50% or continue to show signs in their spinal fluid. Those are the ones with the worst prognoses. Please remember, a reduction of more than 50% is considered a success, even if it's not the best possible outcome. Keiko's reduction was 60%."

"What are the criteria for her coming home?" I asked.

"A platelet count of greater than 100,000, five days past the last transfusion of platelets and packed red blood cells, and an absolute neutrophil count, which is a type of white blood cell, greater than 1000. We'll do a CBC every day, and as soon as the numbers are good, I'll sign her discharge papers. She can complete her recovery at home at that point, though she'll need weekly blood tests and bi-weekly bone marrow biopsies. Do either of you have any further questions?"

"What limits the blood transfusions? You mentioned that at one point."

"The equivalent of an allergic reaction; I could go into detail if you wanted."

"Thanks, but detail isn't necessary," I replied. "If I wanted to research Keiko's illness, where would I start?"

"With an undergrad degree in biochemistry, four years in medical school, an MD, and a Residency in oncology. I'm not being flip, because to understand the kind of material you're asking for requires quite a bit of specialized knowledge. And to be honest, we don't fully understand the causes nor the pathophysiology. The research that is being done on things like AML is cutting edge, and the people doing that research often have PhDs in biochemistry to go along with their MD. Is there something specific you want to know?"

"I suppose the short answer is everything and anything that might help Keiko."

"I promise what we're doing follows the current best practice, and, as strange as this sounds, Keiko is not sick enough to even consider an experimental procedure or drug trial. There is, at the moment, literally nothing better, even experimentally. And this is extremely important -- there are all manner of snake oil answers that, on the surface, sound good but have exactly zero scientific backing.

"If it's a matter of trust, I'm happy to bring in a colleague from the University of Chicago who completed his Residency at Johns Hopkins, which is a renowned research and teaching hospital which created the standard by which physicians are trained. I also have a colleague who is a cancer researcher at Stanford University Hospital who could consult, most likely by telephone. It won't offend me if Keiko requests a second opinion, as I'm confident both my colleagues will confirm everything I've said."

"I don't think it's necessary," Keiko said. "Jonathan is a financial research analyst, and his solution to every challenge or problem is research and analysis."

"That's not a bad thing," Doctor Morrison observed. "And I'm positive he understands my point about specialized knowledge, as I'm sure he could teach me a lot about stocks and bonds. The thing is, I have my role, and he has his. I'd go to him for advice and guidance in his specialization, just as you've come to me for my specialization. As far as I'm aware, nothing is more specialized than medicine and medical research. I'm an oncologist, and you wouldn't ask me to deliver a baby or perform open heart surgery! Anything else?"

Neither Keiko nor I had anything else, so Doctor Morrison left the room.

"What do you think?" Keiko asked.

"That we have to trust Doctor Morrison knows his stuff," I replied. "I believe he does."

"Me, too. Do you think I should get a second opinion?"

"It couldn't hurt, but that said, I think Doctor Morrison is telling the truth about what they're doing is the best they can do. The most positive thing he said, in my mind, is that you aren't sick enough for a trial or experimental medication."

"How so?"

"I believe you'd have to be dying or very likely to die to qualify; you don't, therefore you're not. He did also say that a reduction in cancer cells by more than 50% is considered a success, so there's that, too."

"You seem very positive," Keiko said.

"I think it's my nature, but it's also the case that things could be significantly worse."

"That is you, isn't it? Always looking for the positive."

"I see no point in focusing on the negatives. Yes, I look for them, but only insofar as knowing what they are so they can be avoided. They can't be your focus, no matter what, because that way leads to despair and depression. One thing I learned from my mom was to always focus on the positives and deal with the negatives as they come along."

"That's a very good way to look at life, and it's my grandfather's philosophy. Despite your ethnic differences, you have very much in common."

"We do seem to agree on many, if not most, things."

"If it's OK to change topics, how was the concert?"

"I enjoyed it, though they only played for about ninety minutes total, but that was eighteen songs, so even if I had paid for the tickets, I wouldn't have been disappointed. Teri, Jack, and Kristy enjoyed it as well."

"Have you been to concerts before?"

"Never. That was the first one. I've been to a club once, but never a concert."

"I think that number of songs is pretty typical, but I don't know for sure. Are you ready for your final?"

"Yes. And I'm confident I'll do well."

We were interrupted by a nurse coming into the room to check Keiko's vital signs and remove the empty IV bag but didn't put on a new one, explaining that Keiko was able to eat and didn't need the fluids. The nurse encouraged Keiko to get up and walk, and Keiko agreed. After Keiko put on a mask, I helped her from bed, helped her into her robe, then allowed her to take my arm and we walked out into the corridor.

We walked for about ten minutes, which was a huge improvement from the end of the previous week, though Keiko was clearly exhausted when we returned to her room. She wanted to sleep, so I squeezed her hand in lieu of a kiss, then left the hospital. It was too early to go to Violet's, as she wouldn't be home from work until 4:45pm, so I drove to her house, parked the car, then walked to Lily's house to see if she was home.

"Jonathan?!" she asked in surprise when she opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

"I was visiting Keiko and had some time to kill before dinner with Violet, so I thought I'd stop by and see you."

"Come in!"

I stepped into the house, closed the door behind me, and then followed Lily to the kitchen.

"Coke? I'd offer a Lily sundae, but I don't think Jim would approve."

"A Coke would be fine, thanks. And you know I'm not one to get involved in cheating."

"How is Keiko?" she asked as she got the bottle of Coke from the fridge and opened it."

"She finished her first round of chemo and will have her second in about a month."

"How many rounds?"

"Well, there are three phases, and she's finished the first phase. The second phase has four rounds, about four weeks apart. I don't know about the third phase yet. The chemo seriously reduced the amount of cancer cells, which the doctor says is a success. But she's not out of the woods just yet."

"Can she be cured?"

"Yes, though she has to be free of cancer cells, called 'blasts', for five years to be declared cured. Otherwise, she's in remission."

"You have your exam tonight, right?" Lily asked.

"Yes. How did your exams go today?"

"Fine. I should have all A's this semester."

"That's good. How is your mom doing?"

"She went on a date on Saturday evening," Lily said. "I'm not sure what to think about that!"

"Take it from someone who knows -- it's a good thing. I was happy my mom started dating, though it wasn't until after I left home."

"Are you having a Fourth of July party?"

"I think we're going to go to a Cubs double-header. Violet is checking on tickets, and we'll take the entire gang and sit in the bleachers. My treat."

"That sounds like fun. Grant Park for fireworks?"

"That's what we were thinking."

"We're in, for sure! When will you know?"

"When I see Violet in about twenty minutes. We'll start letting everyone know as soon as we're sure we can get the block of tickets."

"Cool. How are things going at work?"

"I closed a nice deal, and I have another one in progress. Things are going very well."

"That's awesome! Congratulations."

"Thanks."

I finished my Coke, thanked Lily, received a chaste hug, then headed to Violet's house for dinner. She greeted me with a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, and I followed her to the kitchen. She asked about Keiko, and I gave her more details than I'd given Lily, given Violet had been to visit Keiko and would visit her again.

"Did you find out about the tickets for the Fourth?"

"Yes. I have to go through a ticket broker, but we can get them, and they're only $3.25 over face."

"OK. Write down the details for me, please, and I'll call tomorrow to buy them."

"Great!" Violet replied.

She wrote down the information, and I pocketed it, then helped her finish making dinner. We ate, then went to class, and I had no trouble at all with my final exam. When I finished, I went to the diner to meet Violet, and we had pie and coffee, though neither of us had homework to do. When we finished, I walked her to her house, received a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, then headed home.

June 7, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Tuesday, I kept my normal schedule, having agreed with Keiko that I'd visit her right after work. At 9:00am, I placed a call to Beth at the tailor shop and let her know I was available for dinner, if she was free, and we made a date for our usual place, though I'd pick her up on my way from the hospital. Once I finished that call, I made the call to the ticket broker and arranged to purchase a block of thirty tickets in the bleachers for the Fourth of July doubleheader.

Just before lunch, Compliance notified me that they had approved all the new clients and had sent everything to New Accounts to initiate the transfer of securities and cash from their current brokerage accounts. I expected at least one of their brokers to attempt to retain them, but I was confident those attempts would be futile. I'd looked at their returns the previous years, and Spurgeon had returned nearly double compared to the best of their previous brokers and advisors.

I ate my lunch outside in the small park, and after lunch, I spent some time researching the leadership of the Soviet Union, finding very little in the way of analysis in any of the publications to which I had access. That didn't surprise me, and it reinforced the idea that Americans, in general, were in the dark about the workings of Soviet politics. For the most part, it had very little impact on my analysis, as most Western countries had trade restrictions or embargoes in place against exports to Russia, and Russia had very little to export to the West.

What I did discover was that Russia had significant natural resources, especially petroleum and timber, which they could export if they got their act together. Articles I read indicated that soil in the Ukraine was every bit as good as that in the Great Plains, and, once again, if the Soviets got their house in order, they could easily become a significant exporter of grain.

What I read about politics and government indicated that those things would not happen anytime soon, at least not in the next five years, which for investors like Spurgeon was an eternity. While it made sense for retail investors to buy and hold for the long term, that strategy wouldn't work for hedge funds, such as the ones Spurgeon Capital managed. Those required taking advantage of small movements in the market via arbitrage or predicting large movements and cashing in as soon as gains hit their target.

I acted on that specific strategy just before the markets closed, selling my holdings in International Rectifier, which had crossed the price target of $40. The company had the potential for success, but my analysis was that the significant debt incurred building a new plant to produce metal oxide semiconductor field effect transistors, or MOSFETs, would weigh them down. The risk of price retrenchment was too high, and I pulled the trigger on the sale, locking in a profit of about $10 per share.

That left me with free cash, which, after a brief conversation with Tony, I bought additional shares in Wal-Mart, which we both felt had a tremendous upside and limited downside, at least so long as Sam Walton was in charge. The company had recently expanded operations and now had stores in every state of the old Confederacy, as well as Illinois and several states in the Great Plains. More importantly, they had opened a Sam's Wholesale Club, a new concept store which was limited to members only, in Midwest City, Oklahoma.

Wal-Mart was, in effect, the outlier in my portfolio, one I intended to hold long-term. Their expansion plans looked solid, and their growth seemed unstoppable. My trigger for getting out of the position was credible information that Sam Walton would retire or step down.

That might happen sooner than later, as Tony had discovered vague references to Walton traveling to Dallas for the past year to receive some kind of medical treatment. I decided to research that further, and with help from Tony, we found an oblique reference to his health in Nexis that, based on things Doctor Morrison said, led me to conclude Sam Walton might have some form of leukemia.

"If that's true, it's huge," Tony said.

"Wouldn't they have to disclose his health problems to the Board?" I asked.

"Yes," Tony replied, "but there is no requirement that it be made public. And the Board has some significant leeway in how they report it. I just pulled up their most recent 10-Q, and it simply refers back to the 10-K, which lists a general risk factor with regard to the health of senior executives but doesn't say anything more specific. That's enough to pass muster with the SEC."

"What do you think?" I asked.

"I'd have to do a deeper dive into who potential successors are, and we'd have to come up with some kind of time frame. You know more than I do about cancer, given what's happening with your friend."

"And, as her doctor pointed out, it's very specialized knowledge, and every case is different. There's obviously no way we're going to get a look at his medical records, and nothing tells us what form of leukemia he has, if that's what he has. All we have to go on is that he hasn't dropped out of sight, which tells me his chemo, or whatever, wasn't as severe as Keiko's. The very little research I did shows that some forms of leukemia are treated with drugs that have minimal side effects."

"Which would have to be true given there's been no real change in his public appearances or his work, right?"

"I'd say that has to be the case because all Keiko wanted to do from about Wednesday to Sunday was sleep. She's lost all her hair and looks very pale. She couldn't even carry on a long conversation before yesterday without becoming exhausted, and even then, a short walk tired her out such that she went to sleep."

"I'm going to flag his name in Bloomberg," Tony said. "I'll keep you posted."

"Thanks."

At the end of the day, as was my plan now that my class at Circle had finished, I headed to the hospital to spend time with Keiko. She'd had a bit of a setback in that she'd developed a fever, but she said the doctor wasn't overly concerned and had prescribed antibiotics as a precautionary measure.

With her fever and her overall weakness, Keiko didn't want to get out of bed to walk, which I understood, and she was very tired, mainly due to low red blood cell counts. That was to be expected, and she was due for another transfusion on Wednesday morning. I spent about an hour with her, then, with Keiko's blessing, left to pick up Beth for our dinner at Eli's.

Beth was waiting in front of the tailor shop for me and hopped into the car when I pulled up near her. She leaned over for a quick kiss, then, as was the case with basically everyone I knew, she asked how Keiko was doing. I answered, giving limited detail per Keiko's request, though I had permission to share more with our housemates.

"How are you doing?" Beth asked as I pulled away from the curb.

"I think I'm OK," I replied. "This is all new, and neither my mom and I nor Bev and her family ever had anything more serious than a bad cold or flu."

"You seem fairly even-keeled and don't display much emotion, which I know are important traits for your job, but how is your interior life?"

"Do you mean do I feel turmoil, or whatever?"

"I was more concerned about bottling up emotions, which isn't a good thing, at least long term. It's good to remain calm, cool, and collected in a crisis, but if you never let the emotions out, they're like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode."

"I don't feel as if I'm doing that," I replied. "I'm concerned about Keiko, and I understand the ramifications, but it's not tearing me up inside."

"I think I have to ask how you would know? It's possible you're subconsciously suppressing them to the point you don't even know they're there."

"And I have to ask if they're suppressed, won't they stay suppressed? I mean, you and everyone else point out that's part of my personality."

"That was my point when I used the 'ticking time bomb' comparison. Consider a hidden time bomb with a very long timer. You aren't aware of it until the timer hits zero; then there is a huge explosion."

"If we assume, for the sake of argument, that's true, what could I do about it, given it's my nature to suppress those emotions."

"You find a way to let them out," Beth said. "Mr. Spock had a seven-year cycle."

I chuckled, "Isn't that the one where he had to have sex, or he'd die?"

"Yes."

"Well, I have regular sex, so not sure that's an apt comparison!"

"Nothing said Spock didn't have sex at other times!" Beth declared. "And my point was that even emotionless Vulcans had a regular outlet for all their pent-up emotions. And while sex might be good for stress relief, it's not addressing your emotional state, even if you don't feel emotional. Have you ever cried or lost your temper?"

"If I have, it was before any conscious memory. I don't recall crying at any point after I started first grade, and not before, either, though I'm sure I did as a baby and toddler. But my first non-vague memory is my first day of school. Before that, it's all hazy, including things about Bev you'd think I'd remember."

"I think your memories are on par with most, where age six or so is the first true memories. That's true for me, too. Everything before that is kind of hazy. Have you ever shown any emotion? I mean, beyond simple happiness?"

"Not that I can recall. Growing up, it was always basically understanding that life was hard, and I had to deal with it. Becoming upset wouldn't fix it, so I simply focused on what I needed to do and dealt with whatever challenges life brought my way."

"Rugged American individualism," Beth observed. "A very 'Marlboro Man' approach to life - an independent, rugged man who tamed nature from horseback."

"Minus smoking," I replied with a grin. "But growing up, my mom and life in general taught me that I had to rely on myself and be self-sufficient. That was my mom's approach to life once my grandparents kicked her out of the house for being pregnant, and it wore off on me."

"Life is more complicated than that, and not just because you're living in the big city. Nobody, except in the rarest of circumstances, can be truly independent, even if they think they are. Somebody had to make the saddle for the Marlboro Man's horse, and his jeans and flannel shirt, not to mention buy his cattle, and so on. Have you read I, Pencil?"

"It's mandatory reading for anyone hired as a researcher or above at Spurgeon," I replied.

"But for what I suspect is a different reason than what I'm trying to say. I suspect you took it as a mandate for free trade and freedom of contract, allowing everyone to do what they're good at."

"Yes, and that concept is certainly applicable to my work and my life."

"Yes, but think about the deeper ramifications. Instead of the libertarian or classical liberal message it was meant to propose, it actually proves the opposite -- that individualism and self-sufficiency are not, and cannot, be a basis for economics specifically or society in general. All the parts have to come together and work together, and there has to be some overriding principle controlling things. The pencil didn't simply spring into existence; someone had to invent it, plan it, order all the parts and pieces, then assemble it, potentially raising capital from others. The usual interpretation ignores those salient facts."

"Actually," I countered, "I think you are misinterpreting the point of the essay, which is deregulation. It expressly calls for organizing society so that individuals can work together in harmony and allow ideas to bloom."

Beth smiled, "No, I'm expressing how it's usually presented. I don't disagree with you on what it actually says, though I maintain that the command to 'organize society' is paramount. The argument comes down to how much to regulate it. But it assumes collective action, not rugged individualism."

"I disagree," I said firmly. "I believe it says that everyone ought to be free to do what they think is best, and very often, probably most of the time, that is coöperating with someone to do something. But the key is the freedom to choose to do it or not do it. And while I may exhibit the emotionless macho Marlboro Man exterior, I'm not a rugged individualist, at least in the sense that I think I don't need anyone else and can do everything for myself. That's truly a myth. But it's also a straw man.

"Even the most rugged, outdoorsy individuals back home had their own social groups and relied on others for goods and services. I don't know anyone who cut themselves off completely from society, and I don't think that's even possible unless you go to some remote point in a jungle somewhere, where you hunt and gather and probably die of some easily curable ailment if the animals don't kill you first."

"I think that conversation went totally off the rails from what I intended, which was about emotions, not economics and society."

"You probably should have stuck to comparisons with Mr. Spock!" I declared with a grin.

"Point taken!" Beth said with a smile.

We arrived at the restaurant, I parked, and we went inside. I'd called for reservations, so we were seated right away, and at Beth's suggestion, we ordered a bottle of wine with our meal. The waiter didn't even blink, as Beth had predicted, given I was wearing one of my expensive suits.

"Told you!" she declared. "Out of curiosity, have you tried the 'Amex on the bar' trick?"

"No," I replied. "Not that I need help attracting girls!"

Beth laughed, "Someone is totally full of themselves! Someone I hope I'll be full of later!"

"I was simply stating the obvious," I replied with a grin. "I had a paralegal give me her phone number last week after she notarized some forms."

"Tall, good-looking, intelligent, and wearing an expensive suit will do it every time! Well, except for the girls who are looking for 'bad boys' -- then the leather jacket and motorcycle are the proper bait!"

"And the bait in the other direction?" I asked with a grin.

"Big tits," Beth replied. "Every single time."

"There have to be guys who prefer small breasts," I said.

"I'd say that's right up there with the mythical Marlboro Man! I sure haven't met one!"

"It could be a self-fulfilling idea," I replied with a smirk. "The guys who like small breasts aren't going to hit on YOU!"

Beth laughed, "A good point, but there's no way I'll trade these in for smaller ones! They're not so huge they'll cause back problems in the future, but they certainly do get me noticed!"

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"Does having a big dick bother you?"

"If I were to put it on display in public, I'd be arrested immediately!"

"It's fairly obvious when you wear tight jeans, though not so much in the suit. But you do have big hands, and more importantly, your ring finger is longer than your index finger!"

"Another girl brought that up in the past year," I replied. "And she claimed her anecdotal experience, and that of her friends, confirmed it, along with them being nicer."

"My experience is the same," she replied. "Shoe size doesn't correlate, but ring finger being longer than index finger does."

"You wouldn't happen to know a student at the School of the Art Institute named Sophie Wilson, would you?"

"I do! How do you know her?"

"She picked me up at Ed Debevic's when she was waiting tables. How do you know her?"

"We went to the same school from K through 12. I've kept in touch, and we did have that discussion with her friend Ivy and a couple of other girls. Are you still seeing her?"

"No. She became involved with someone, though Deanna, my housemate, is friends with Sophie and Ivy."

"Where 'someone' is one of Sophie's married professors who likes girls doing him with strap-ons!"

"So I've heard," I said, shaking my head.

"Not your thing?" Beth asked.

"Never tried it," I replied. "I don't see the attraction from the guy's point of view."

"A babe in the woods!" Beth said lightly. "Some guys want to be dominated. There's a whole subculture around it, as well as around bondage and sadomasochism. Or rather, multiple subcultures. Normally, males are more dominant than females, though the extent of that dominance varies greatly. One very traditional male-dominant act is a blowjob while fully clothed from a completely naked partner."

"Interesting," I replied.

That made me think about Jeri doing that for me, and I realized that it might have been her way of showing she was ceding power in the relationship. Of course, it could also be her way of appearing submissive while still maintaining control. It was an interesting question and one I'd have to think further about.

Beth smirked, "Being fucked in the ass by a girl with a strap-on is probably the most submissive thing a straight guy could do without incurring pain, which some people are into."

"That one, I totally don't understand! I try to avoid pain, and it certainly doesn't turn me on!"

"That's the key -- it doesn't turn you on. I'm going to wager you've met girls who give blowjobs simply because they know you enjoy them. And there are guys who eat pussy because they know the girl enjoys it. But there are also some girls who are turned on by giving blowjobs and some guys who are turned on by eating pussy. Without names or specifics, do you know girls who prefer you cum in their mouth?"

"Yes. I'm curious, do you give blowjobs because you like to or because you know guys like them?"

"I'd say it's some of both," Beth replied. "And as strange as it may seem, the guy's attitude has more to do with it than anything."

"How so?"

"If he expects, or worse, demands oral sex, it's a turn-off, and it becomes a chore. If, on the other hand, he just lets things flow, I enjoy it and am happy to do it. You are the least demanding sex partner I've had, and in many ways, the best. Not because you're huge or because your technique is so much better, but because you strive to please me and communicate what you like without being demanding."

"That makes sense," I replied. "I do focus on providing pleasure, and that generates repeat customers and referrals!"

Beth laughed, "I bet!"

The waiter brought our salads and the bottle of wine, and after I tasted it, he poured for both of us.

"From what you've said," Beth continued after the waiter left, "you've tried a number of things. Are there things you want to try that you haven't done?"

"Not really," I replied. "I mean, I'm open to suggestions, but nothing I'm aware of really interests me. I like screwing, oral, and I enjoy being with multiple girls, but none of the kinks or fetishes I've heard about really interest me."

"None?"

"Actually, one girl and I both enjoy using ice cream toppings on each other and licking them off. But that's honestly about the limit. Being tied up isn't my thing, pain is the opposite of arousing, and toys aren't all that interesting. Is there something specific you had in mind?"

"You just basically ruled it out," Beth replied. "I'm really curious about bondage, but I'd have to trust the guy implicitly. I trust you implicitly, but you just said it wasn't your thing."

"Not being my thing isn't a hard 'no'," I replied. "I'd be willing to discuss it, but I couldn't make any promises. Pain, on the other hand, is right out."

"Along with water sports?"

"I missed that one, though I am having a hot tub installed."

Beth laughed hard for at least twenty seconds before she regained her composure.

"Not even close!" she declared mirthfully. "It means being urinated on."

"No thanks," I said flatly.

"Me either. I was simply agreeing it was out of the question for you; for me, too."

"Now I have to ask -- people actually do that and get off on it?"

"They do."

"I suppose it takes all kinds."

"Yes, it does. So what would it take to get you to tie me up?"

LV. Please Don't Go!

June 8, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"I'll do it if you want," I said to Beth as we showered on Wednesday morning. "You'll have to get whatever we need, as I'm completely clueless about it."

"I'm only slightly less clueless, but I'll speak to someone at The Pleasure Chest. I'm sure they have ropes or scarves or leather straps or handcuffs and someone who knows what to do."

"Handcuffs?"

"It's an option. But knowing those things is about the limit of what I know."

"Have you been to that store?"

"Yes. It's where I bought what Osco calls a 'personal massager', though mine has a more distinct shape!"

"Out of curiosity, if you have sex partners who satisfy you, why have a vibrator?"

"I like pleasure, and there are times when I'm horny and can't get together with someone. I mean, you're only available once or twice a month, and while I'm no prude and wouldn't judge, I don't have that many sex partners."

"And you've ruled out your budding lawyer and doctor from the synagogue?"

"The one in law school graduates Thursday," Beth said. "The other one has two years to go in medical school."

"Which means?"

Beth smiled, "That for now, you and I continue to fuck, and if things do develop with Joshua, then things change for you and me. It's totally casual for you and me, and we can be friends if we stop screwing. I think we're both mature and sensible enough to keep it platonic."

"I think so, too," I agreed.

We finished in the shower, dried ourselves, dressed, and then went downstairs to have breakfast. After breakfast, Beth, Jack, and I got into the car for the drive into the Loop. We swung by the tailor shop to drop Beth, then Jack and I headed for the Hancock Center.

"Not to be a complete pig, but Beth has an amazing rack!" Jack observed.

"I have zero complaints," I replied. "She's a great girl, but I'm simply her 'Goy boy toy' because she wants to marry a Jewish guy and honor her culture and faith. In the future, we'll be friends, and she'll refer people to me, and I'll refer people to her. I have a few leads with lawyers that she's given me. I sent each of them a prospectus but haven't heard back yet."

"Same with the cops in Kansas, right?"

"Yes. I figure sometime in July, if it happens. Landing the law firm here was a big help because I have more money under management. I sent updated documents to the detective I met, and he forwarded them to the members of his union board. Everything is going better than I ever planned at the moment."

"You say that as if you expect something bad to happen."

"Expect? No. Suspect? Yes. That's the entire point of hedging and using covered options. And I have taken some positions that didn't return what I expected and a few that were stopped out with small losses. The key is being agile and not getting caught flatfooted if the market moves the wrong way, which it can do if some major world event occurs."

"I think I know the study materials well enough to answer questions."

"OK. Let's set aside some time for me to quiz you, then you can ask Kristy's dad for a runner position. That said, Newton will be very unhappy if you leave too soon."

"Does that really matter?"

"In the larger scheme of things? No, because he's not a Suit and, therefore, is lower on the totem pole than Bianca will be when she starts next week."

"I heard that the order of the images on totem poles isn't standardized, and the position doesn't mean anything, or in some cases, the first image on the bottom is the most important."

"Could well be," I replied. "I was simply using the metaphor. I think I'll refrain, given what you just said."

"Have you seen any discrimination against the Oriental girls you've dated?"

"Not overt, anyway," I replied. "I do see discrimination against blacks and Hispanics regularly, including at Spurgeon and Hart-Lincoln. Hell, just look at the Chicago City Council and the Mayor. And Bernie Epton ran a blatantly racist campaign! Honestly, I think Orientals and people from India more or less fly under the radar. I'm sure there are biased people out there, but I haven't run into them the way I have with blacks or Hispanics."

"You do have a thing for Asian girls, whether it's from China, Japan, or India!"

"So sue me," I chuckled. "Bianca is Mexican."

"You kicked the Aryan girl to the curb!" Jack teased.

"More like she kicked me to the curb because I dropped everything to help Bev. Anna felt it meant Bev and I would end up together in the future, even if I were married to someone else. Marrying Bev was NEVER in the cards once all the shit went down with her running away from St. Louis. But there was no way I wouldn't help her. Anna couldn't deal with it."

"Her loss, I'd say!"

I shrugged, "As I said to someone else, our views on life and the future weren't compatible. Better to find that out right away than down the road."

"That's the same thing that happened with Haley, right?"

"More or less," I agreed as I pulled into the parking garage.

We parted at the steps, with Jack going straight to the freight elevator and me walking up the steps to take a passenger elevator. I still found it silly, but it wasn't my company. If and when I ran my own shop, I wouldn't have the distinction between 'Suits' and 'Staff' that Spurgeon maintained.

I completed my usual morning tasks, and just after 8:00am, I received a call from Kendall Roy in Compliance.

"First, the SEC closed out the investigation of your currency trades. That's good, but you know it never ends."

"So I've heard," I replied.

"Just continue to keep meticulous notes."

"Will do. I have a question for you -- how will the SEC look at contact with the Soviet government?"

"The way every US government agency would -- askance. What are you up to?"

"I asked for trade information from their Embassy in DC. I discovered through that contact that they actually export tractors and have plants in Wisconsin and Louisiana."

"Where are you going with that information?"

"Mainly, it's curiosity, but it is in my remit. I'm also curious and want some insight into Russia, given something big is likely to happen when Andropov dies, though it might be the guy after the guy after him. Major changes in the Soviet Union could have a massive impact on the global economy, trade, military spending, and so on."

"Keep VERY detailed notes and make sure you send them to Legal on a weekly basis so they aren't blindsided. I'd like copies, too, but that's up to you."

"I'll share, as I'm totally out of my depth here and don't want to get in trouble with the FBI or some other agency."

"Wise," Mr. Roy declared. "Before I let you go, I saw you haven't rescheduled your sensitive leave. It's June, so you want to give some serious thought to that, as you absolutely have to take ten consecutive trading days before the end of the year."

"I'll figure it out in the next week or so," I replied.

"Good. Don't mess that up because it'll land you in hot water with Spurgeon. It's not an SEC requirement at this point, but it's one of our defenses against claims of market manipulation."

I almost laughed out loud because it would be trivial for me to work in concert with someone or simply ensure my positions were properly protected before I took the time off. But I wasn't doing those things, so it didn't really matter, and I was in no position to manipulate the market. That said, Matheson, Spurgeon, Thiele, and others could and it made more sense for them.

"I won't mess around with it," I said.

"Thanks, Jonathan," Mr. Roy said.

We ended the call, and I returned to my research. I worked out at lunch, had a relatively quiet but productive afternoon, then headed to the hospital to see Keiko, stopping to pick up the book she'd requested.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Like crap," Keiko replied. "But better than Friday. I still have a fever, but it's under control, according to Doctor Morrison. The biggest problem is that between the chemo and the antibiotics, my digestive system is a total wreck."

"What can they do about that?"

"Not much, though supposedly yogurt with active cultures helps, and I can keep that down. But anything other than liquids or yogurt makes me throw up. According to Doctor Morrison, it's normal for that to get worse before it gets better, especially with antibiotics."

"Is there anything I can do? I did bring you The Stand."

"Thanks. Nothing at the moment besides your visits. What are you doing on Friday?"

"I was going to discuss that with you," I said. "Ellie had planned an end-of-the-semester baseball game, but I'm not sure."

"Because of me?" Keiko asked.

"Yes. I was wondering if I should call it off, but even if I don't, I'm going to retire."

"Also because of me?"

"Well, unless you plan to allow me to play around after we get engaged if we decide to do that!"

"Fat chance!" Keiko said, laughing softly, which I thought was a good sign.

"The exact response I expected!" I said with a smile. "And one with which I have no argument or disagreement."

"Then make Friday your swan song or final game or whatever analogy you want to draw. You know I don't have a problem with it now."

"Does what you said before still hold true? That if I ask, you'll say 'yes'?"

"You know I think we should wait to see what happens, right? Not to mention, I'm not going on a honeymoon anytime soon."

"I know."

"But yes, I would. Please wait, but I won't say 'no' if you decide not to."

"I'll take it under advisement," I said,

"Of course you will!"

"How is your blood?"

"Still bad, but again, to be expected. My oxygen saturation is better, but my white count is basically non-existent. That should begin to change in the next week. And the real test is next Monday when they report my blast count."

"What's supposed to happen?"

"It should either be about the same or go up only slightly."

"Do you want me here when Doctor Morrison gives you the report? I can go into work early on Monday."

"Yes, please."

"Then I'll be here by 3:00pm on Monday.

"I really appreciate it!"

"Do you have a preferred time for me to visit on Saturday and Sunday?"

"The afternoons are best. I've been going to sleep by 8:00pm every night this week."

"Do you feel up for a walk?"

"Not really. The physiotherapist made me get out of bed after lunch, and I was totally beat, not to mention chilled because of the fever."

"Just do what they say, please."

"I am, but I feel horrible all the time."

"I wish there was something I could do, but sadly, I don't think there is."

"You come to see me every day, and that's important, even if I sometimes seem as if I don't appreciate it."

"None of this is your fault," I said. "But I'm here for you in any way you need me."

Keiko smiled, "I know, and I'm very happy about that."

June 10, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Friday was a normal day at work, and at the end of the day, I went to see Keiko for our daily visit before heading to Loyola to meet Ellie. I'd debated canceling, but in the end, decided that I'd committed to it, and as Keiko hadn't expressed any concerns or even implied any, I decided that I would have what I expected to be a last crazy fling.

There was still the promise I'd made to Deanna and Ceci, and I'd keep that commitment, but once I had, then I'd make a commitment of another type to Keiko. Despite my strong feeling that I was too young to make that kind of commitment, I couldn't let Keiko slip away as I had Huifen. That had worked out OK, as I felt Keiko and I clicked even better than Huifen and I had, but I wasn't going to take the chance.

As I pulled into the Visitor's parking lot at Loyola, I wondered if I was treating Keiko properly, but as I got out of the car, I reminded myself what she'd said. The thing that made me question myself again was whether my expressed reluctance to be in a committed, monogamous relationship had led Keiko to allow me more freedom than she preferred, but in the end, I remembered how she had come into my life -- as Ellie's friend, simply looking for a very pleasurable encounter.

"Hi!" Ellie exclaimed when I walked into the lobby of the dorm.

"Hi," I replied. "Still the same plan?"

"Aurelio's for pizza, then a private party!"

"If you didn't want to use your dorm, we could go to the house. Everyone will be out until at least midnight."

"That works!"

"How many girls?" I asked.

Ellie smirked, "Nine! It's baseball, after all!"

"You do realize that nine times is pushing the extreme limits!"

"I do, but we have tomorrow morning, right?"

"I don't have anything to do until around 11:00am."

"I do have to ask you something I should have asked about before -- do you have a problem with a black girl participating?"

"Why would I?" I asked.

"Some people are that way," Ellie said. "It doesn't even have to be racist, just a preference. I mean, I know your preference! If I could line up eight Oriental or Indian girls, you'd be in Heaven!"

I couldn't help but laugh, "You might have a point! To give you a direct answer, no, I don't have a problem. In any event, with that many girls, I need to stop somewhere and get rubbers."

"Actually, when I first came up with the idea in April, I insisted all the girls go to the clinic and get the Pill. They did, and the clinic also gave them all VD tests. Miranda, Kasey, Meg, and I had one, too. You had one, right?"

"Yes, in February."

And since then, I'd only been with girls I'd been with before, all of whom had tests at one time or another, except Izzy, who had been a virgin.

"I do have one question for you," I continued. "What about Bob?"

"Just a casual date," she replied. "I wouldn't cheat any more than you would."

"OK. I had to ask. Mind if I ask about the other girls?"

"They're all Freshmen," Ellie said. "Kimberly, the black girl, is a nursing student, is almost as tall as you, and plays basketball; Nicole, a French major, is a short redhead with green eyes; Amanda, a stats major, is an average height blonde; Laura, another blond, though short like Keiko, is an English major; and Dawn, a tall girl with brown hair, is pre-law."

"And you were clear with them what happens at your baseball games?"

"Absolutely! And they all agreed to play, and they know it's public, so to speak. You know my kink!"

I chuckled, "I do -- watching and being watched. I do have one important thing to tell you, and that this is my last time stepping up to the plate. You'll need to find a new starting pitcher in the future."

Ellie frowned, "I figured that would happen at some point. Keiko?"

"That's part of it, yes, but even without her, I've discovered I'm more interested in one-on-one sex than I am in groups."

"That sounds like you're rejecting Bianca's plan."

I nodded, "I am, but not because I think there's anything wrong with it, but because a regular monogamous marriage seems right to me."

Well, minus having a kid with Bianca, which was something I'd have to discuss with Keiko again before I changed our relationship. That was something I absolutely had to take into consideration and which had slipped my mind during my earlier consideration of what to do.

"I'm not surprised," Ellie said. "If you change your mind, I'm the next in line!"

"Is that ABBA?"

"Yes. It's Take a Chance on Me. Anyway, the girls will meet us here in about twenty minutes, and we can head to Aurelio's. Miranda and Nicole have cars, so we won't have a problem with getting everyone into a car."

"With nine girls, I have to ask how you plan for this to work."

"I was thinking we start with a 'get to know you' round where each girl gets to make out with you for two minutes, fully clothed, and just kissing. Because there are nine of us, each girl gets a turn where she has twenty minutes max -- five minutes of sixty-nine, five minutes with her on top, five with you on top, five any way she wants. Whenever you cum, you lick her for the rest of the time.

"That's three hours, and if we factor in rest time, we'd finish around 1:00am, though earlier if physiology limits things. In that case, the remaining girls go in the morning. We all have sleeping bags or blankets and pillows, so we can sack out in your room or the basement. Any girls who don't get a turn tonight have a chance to sleep with you overnight, if they want. If it's more than two, then draw cards. When we're all done tomorrow, you wash each of us in the shower."

"I'll be a prune after forty-five minutes in the shower!"

"OK, so maybe that wasn't well thought out!"

"May I give an honest critique that is not a complaint?"

"Sure."

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but nine girls are too many. It takes away the game part, at least if everyone gets what amounts to an equal turn. Just from my perspective, it's almost like...an assembly line."

Ellie frowned, "I think I got carried away; I'm sorry. What do you want to do?"

"I'm not sure there's a good solution, really," I said.

"Maybe Miranda and Kasey would agree to skip if you gave them a night each?" Ellie suggested. "They both live in the area. Meg is going home to California tomorrow."

Which was something I could probably do, given I had to fulfill my commitment to Deanna and CeCi and work out the situation with Bianca with both her and Keiko.

"That could work, if they agree," I said.

"The same with me, so long as I get to watch!" Ellie declared. "I'd trade once tonight for all night with you."

Which was possible but not something I was particularly interested in. Ellie was nice and fun, but we didn't really click. I felt she still had some kind of designs on me, even if it were the multi-girl situation Bianca was proposing. I already had enough complications in my life, and being more involved with Ellie was not something I desired. I'd made a mistake, and it was time to rectify it.

"The more I think about it, the less I think this was a good idea," I said. "I apologize, but I think I'm just going to head home."

"Wait! Why?!"

"A mix of things," I replied, "Mostly, though, because I agreed to the idea of you, Meg, Miranda, and Kasey, and possibly another friend, not nine. It's too much. Apologize to the girls for me, please."

"Jonathan, please don't go," Ellie begged.

"I think it's best."

She was clearly upset, but I didn't particularly care, so I said 'good night' and headed back towards my car. Ellie called my name twice but didn't follow me, and as I walked, I tried to sort out my feelings. As I pondered, I concluded it wasn't the idea of new girls, or even a group of girls, but of Ellie's significant escalation to the point where it was no longer a game but just having sex serially with nine girls. Weirdly, that felt like work, not fun.

I considered trying to get in touch with Meg, but decided it was best to just let it be, as she was going home to California in the morning and by the time she returned, my situation would most likely have changed dramatically. I also could call Kasey or Miranda at any time, as they both lived in the area, so I could easily see them if I decided to. Both of them were fun, interesting Friday date options, and there would be a few more of those before I worked things out with Bianca and Keiko.

I got into my car and headed for the house, wondering if I should try to call Marcia, but I decided, in the end, I'd just stay home, order a pizza, and relax. I'd have a busy weekend, as I'd visit Keiko on both Saturday and Sunday, do the shopping, visit the dry cleaners, and go on a date with Teri on Saturday evening. On Sunday afternoon, I'd go to Violet's house, and we'd have dinner.

I arrived home, parked my car in the garage, and then let myself into the empty house with my key. I went upstairs, changed out of my suit into shorts and a T-shirt, then went to the kitchen. I changed my mind, and instead of calling for pizza, I ordered Chinese. After I placed the order, I remembered I hadn't spoken to my mom in more than two weeks, so I took the chance to call her.

"First," I said when she answered, "I need to apologize for not calling the past three weekends."

"I'm sure you're very busy," Mom said. "It's OK."

"I do have a reason, and while it's a good excuse, it's not a good thing. Keiko was diagnosed with leukemia and is undergoing chemotherapy."

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry, Jonathan! How is she?"

"Feeling pretty lousy, but her doctor, an oncologist, says that the first round of chemo was successful, and there's basically a fifty-fifty chance of full remission, which, all things considered with cancer, are decent odds, given that it's possible to survive this even if you're not in full remission."

"How are you holding up?"

"OK," I replied. "It's so far outside my experience that it's more than a little disconcerting. I visit Keiko every day, of course, but I wish I could do more."

"Do you trust her doctor?"

"I do. He even offered some options for a second opinion if we wanted one, but we decided against it."

"'We'?"

"I think you know where this is headed," I replied. "Keiko and I are thinking that way, though she wants me to wait until we know more before I ask the obvious question."

"Just don't make any rash decisions because of her cancer," Mom advised.

"I won't, and it was headed that way before we heard the diagnosis. We'll know more on Monday when we get the next set of test results."

"Please let me know, and I absolutely want to meet the young woman who has captured your heart!"

"We haven't said 'I love you' to each other."

Mom laughed softly, "I think being with her every step of the way and visiting her every day says that in a way that no words could ever express. And being the logical, practical, analytical person you are, you did the math and decided it added up!"

"I can't deny that," I chuckled. "I'll keep you posted, but she and I still have things to discuss and to work out before anything happens. And that's irrespective of her leukemia. That just brought it more into focus."

"I can't even imagine. I remember when Jennie's husband was killed in Viet Nam, and I couldn't even fathom, despite what happened with your dad."

"I think that was likely because you barely knew him. I suspect it was kind of like when a girl I knew here was murdered about eighteen months ago -- I didn't know her very well, so the impact was less."

"You conveniently left that out of your weekly calls to me!"

"It wasn't particularly relevant, and I didn't want you to worry."

"Which, of course, I would have! How is Bev?"

"Has Glen spoken to you in the past ten days?"

"Yes. He told me he was giving notice and moving to Illinois, so I can only assume..."

"Your assumptions are correct. Unless I'm totally misinterpreting Bev's intent, they'll end up married."

"That was my assumption. In one sense, I'm unhappy, but I can't fault him for taking responsibility for what I consider an inappropriate relationship."

"Not to be a brat, but is it that much more inappropriate than a fifteen-year-old virgin sneaking out to have sex with a guy in his mid-twenties in 1962?"

"You are most definitely a brat!"

"I believe I came by that honestly," I chuckled.

"Brat!"

"Takes one to know one!" I retorted.

"Perhaps!" Mom replied. "Is Bev going to tell her parents?"

"I strongly encouraged her to do that; in fact, I pushed pretty hard. But Bev has never, ever been one to accept being told what to do, and never by me."

"She was always the dominant one in your relationship from the time you two were toddlers. I believe that worked out to your benefit the day she turned sixteen!"

"Perhaps! In any event, I'm not sure Bev is going to tell them. She asked if I'd speak to her dad, and I declined. She suggested you, and I told her I felt that wasn't appropriate."

"You're right on both accounts, though I'm not exactly the model for communicating with parents."

"They're the ones who cut you off, Mom. They're the ones who would have to make the overture."

"Are you going to see them?"

"Once Keiko is out of the hospital and feels up to it, I'll get in touch. But I won't hold my tongue, nor will I suffer a sermon."

"That should be an interesting interaction," Mom said. "Wear asbestos."

"If there were actually a place called Hell that wasn't a village in Michigan, it would be filled with self-righteous people, along with those who mistreat their kids, not the ones who don't toe some set of religious ideas invented by people who completely misstate the revolutionary ideas put forward by a first-century preacher!"

"You may not know this, but Jesus reserved his harshest words for the religious zealots who tried to impose their views on everyone at the expense of loving them."

"I did know that," I replied. "It's one of the few things that stuck from the Bible stories you read to me when I was a toddler. But that ended around the time I was in kindergarten."

"I decided that I wanted you to make up your own mind," Mom said. "I didn't want to be like your grandfather."

"And I appreciate that. I'll keep you posted on how that goes, but it'll be at least a month before Keiko is in any condition to even have dinner out."

"You're in my thoughts all the time, Jonathan."

"And you in mine, even if I failed to call for three weeks."

"It's OK. Take care of Keiko."

"I will. Thanks, Mom."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then got a bottle of Coke from the fridge. I grabbed the Trib, which I'd only scanned at breakfast, and sat down to read while I waited for my food, which arrived about twenty minutes later. As usual, I tipped the young Chinese delivery boy well, then took my food to the kitchen to eat.

I read the newspaper while I ate, noting that the Reds were having another bad year, and not seeing them at Wrigley meant not missing much. They'd been frustratingly bad for the past five years and didn't look to have much chance of improving in the short term, and the Cubs, of course, were as hapless as ever. The White Sox, on the other hand, looked pretty good, and I felt they had a decent chance to make the World Series.

I finished eating, threw away the cartons from which I'd eaten directly, then did something I rarely did -- turned on the Atari to play video games. I put in the 'Star Raiders' cartridge. I'd never managed to score above 'Pilot', but at least I'd moved from 'Cook' to 'Scout' as my usual rating. I simply didn't play enough to get that good, and the games usually only held my attention for thirty minutes or so.

I started the game and had decent luck at first, though it was tough going. About ten minutes into the game, the doorbell rang, and I considered whether I should answer it or not. I was concerned that it might be Ellie, and I didn't really want to get into a debate or discussion with her, but I decided I couldn't simply ignore whoever it was. I turned off the console mid-game, not really caring about the score, and went upstairs to answer the door.

I opened the door and was pleasantly surprised to see Meg, not Ellie.

"Hi," she said. "I hope it was OK to just show up."

I smiled, "It is. I'm perfectly capable of declining company if I want to be alone."

"I wasn't quite sure what happened with Ellie, but I think I can guess from what she's said in the past and today. I'm going home tomorrow, and I hoped it would be OK to stop by and say 'goodbye'. I don't need to come in if you don't want me to."

"It's OK," I replied. "Why don't you come inside."

"I need to let Nicole know I'm staying," Meg said. "And get the movie I rented and microwave popcorn I bought. I figured we could watch the movie, and if anything happened after that, it would be up to you."

"Sure."

"Would you mind if Nicole joined us? Just for the movie?"

I was positive Meg was completely sincere, and given she didn't have a car, it made sense she'd asked for a ride.

"I don't have a problem with that," I replied.

"Great! Let me get the stuff, and we'll be right back."

I waited, and about two minutes later, Meg and Nicole, a pixie-like redhead, came up the steps to the front porch.

"Jonathan Kane, Nicole Gallagher, from Boston. Nicole, Jonathan Kane, originally from a small town near Cincinnati."

"Nice to meet you, Nicole," I said. "Come in."

The girls walked into the house, and I shut the door.

"Wicked cool house!" Nicole exclaimed in a Boston accent.

"Thanks," I replied. "Meg, I have Coke, Sprite, and Orange Crush in the fridge, so you two can help yourself. I'll pop the popcorn, then we'll go to the basement to use the projection TV. What movie did you rent?"

"Time Bandits. It's about a kid who accidentally joins a group of time-traveling dwarves who use time travel to find treasure to steal. Terry Gilliam and Michael Palin wrote it, so I think it has to be good. And it has Sean Connery, too."

"Sounds good to me!"

I popped the popcorn in the microwave, poured it into a large bowl, got an Orange Crush, and then the three of us went down to the basement. Nicole excused herself to use the bathroom while I turned on the projection TV and VCR.

"Does Ellie know you're here?" I asked Meg.

"No. I deduced telling her was a bad idea. Once we finished our pizza, the group more or less broke up, and I asked Nicole for a ride. The other girls were disappointed, but only Ellie seemed upset. I know she wants you very badly, but it's obvious you two didn't click."

"What was your opinion of what she planned for tonight?"

"It was just supposed to be Miranda, Kasey, Ellie, me and Dawn. But then Ellie decided to go totally crazy. I actually advised against it, but she invited the others and didn't tell me until today. It just seemed like too much."

"OK. That more or less confirms what I was thinking."

"Also, if you want me to stay tonight, I can, and Nicole will go back to the dorm, though I suspect if you ask her, she'll stay, too. She's super-nice."

"Let me think about it," I said.

"You've been out of sorts since Keiko's diagnosis."

I nodded, "I have been."

"I do hope you'll let me stay because I have a sneaking suspicion you won't be available in August when I come back to school."

"I think there's a good chance that's the case. As I said, let me think about it."

"Of course!"

Nicole returned from the bathroom, I started the tape, and we sat on the couch, with one girl on either side of me, though neither of them sat too close. The movie was flat-out hilarious, very entertaining, and almost...magical. It felt as if it was one of the best movies I'd seen, and I couldn't put my finger on why. There was just something about the movie that was captivating, as if I was on the same wavelength as the director.

"That was amazing!" I declared when the movie ended. "You made a great choice, Meg!"

"Thanks!" Meg replied. "I loved it, and I agree with you about it being captivating. Nicole?"

"I liked it, but I think you two liked it a lot more."

"It's still early," I said. "It's nice out, so we could go sit in the backyard, if you want. Unfortunately, the hot tub won't be installed for a few weeks."

"Bummer!" Meg exclaimed. "Hot tubs are fun!"

"Have you done it in a hot tub?" Nicole asked.

"Yes," Meg replied. "When I was a Freshman in High School."

"Whoa! An early starter!"

"Eighth grade, actually," Meg said. "Jonathan heard the story, but basically, I got my boobs when I was twelve, way before most girls in my school and a guy down the street asked to see them. A few days after my thirteenth birthday, I showed him, he asked to touch, and you can guess where that led!"

"I wish mine were that nice!" Nicole declared.

"And I wish I had red hair, green eyes, and freckles!" Meg declared. "So we're even!"

"As a neutral observer, I have to say you're both sexy," I said with a grin.

"I'd still rather have big boobs," Nicole groused. "That's what guys notice."

"Maybe at first," I replied. "But any guy with even half a brain would be interested in you!"

Nicole smiled, "Thanks!"

I rewound the tape, then the three of us went upstairs, got sodas from the fridge, then went out into the backyard. The girls asked where the hot tub would go, and I described it, the new porch, and the fire pit. We then pulled three lawn chairs to the center of the yard and sat down under the stars.

"How is Keiko?" Meg asked.

"Recovering from chemo and not feeling very well, but her spirits are high."

"That was pretty shocking to hear," Nicole observed. "We're all so young."

"According to her oncologist, being young gives Keiko a fighting chance to beat this, though she has at least one more phase with multiple rounds of chemo."

"I'd completely freak out," Nicole declared.

"Me, too," Meg added.

"What are you doing over the Summer?" I asked Meg, hoping to change the subject.

"I'll hang out with my friends, go to the beach, and otherwise be a bum for about ten weeks!"

"How about you, Nicole?"

"I'll work in my family's specialty ice cream shop in Boston."

"Why French?" I asked.

"I'm a Francophile, and I want to be a teacher, so it's the best of both worlds."

"Have you been?"

"Four times; about every three years since I was six. Have you been?"

"No. Someday, but that'll be a few years from now, I suspect."

"Meg says you're very successful, and I'd say that's obvious from the house!"

"So far, so good," I replied. "But the proof is being successful for the long term."

"Still pretty amazing for someone who's twenty!" Nicole declared.

"Thanks."

We finished our sodas, then went back into the house. I'd thought about Meg's offer to stay if I wanted her to, and given that when she returned, I most likely wouldn't be available to her, I decided it was OK if she wanted to stay.

"Stay, if you like," I said to her.

"Thanks."

"Then I suppose I'll head back to campus," Nicole said. "It's been fun!"

I considered what Meg had suggested, and an encounter with two girls was a far cry from an encounter with nine, so I decided I'd be OK with the sexy redhead staying, if she wanted to.

"You're welcome to stay if you wish," I said to Nicole.

She smiled, "I'd like that..."

LVI. The Great American Pastime

June 10, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"...but there's something neither of you knows about me. If I stay, Jonathan and I would double-team you, Meg."

"You're lesbian?" Meg asked, but in a way that didn't sound disapproving.

"Bi," Nicole replied. "I've only ever had sex with girls, but I'm interested in guys, too. I'm not out, and I'd ask you two not to reveal that to anyone. And I won't be offended if you say 'no', Meg."

"Can I ask what you planned to do if we'd played Ellie's game?" Meg wondered.

"Just have sex with Jonathan," Nicole replied. "I wasn't going to reveal anything to the other girls. Too many people have hangups."

"And you were sure I didn't?" Meg asked.

"Or me?" I inquired.

"For you, Jonathan, I know Bianca sleeps with girls, so I was positive you were OK with it, or you wouldn't have invited her to live with you. For you, Meg, just a gut feeling from what you said about your first time. Any girl who openly admits having sex right after her thirteenth birthday and who makes no apologies and has no regrets is likely to be open-minded and accepting, not to mention adventurous.

"Add into those things the facts that I'm attracted to both of you, that I like big boobs, and that Jonathan is reported to be a very well-endowed expert cocksman. Given all of that and the fact that the opportunity presented itself when Jonathan asked if I wanted to stay, I decided to just go for it. As I said, I'm totally cool with you saying 'no', and I'll go back to the dorm and not be upset."

"I've tried a lot of things, but not that!" Meg declared. "I mean, I don't have a problem with it because, you know, whatever floats your boat. I'm just not...Jonathan, what do you think?"

"I think I can't answer that question because I'd be concerned you might do something simply because I wanted to," I replied. "For some things, I could see that being OK; for putting your tongue in another girl's pussy and her putting her tongue in yours, I have to demur!"

Meg laughed, which made me feel I'd taken the right tack and used the right tone of voice.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Meg declared with a wry smile, "but what did the old beer commercial say? You only go around once in life, so grab all the gusto you can?"

"Schlitz is wicked BAD beer!" Nicole declared. "It might be the beer that made Milwaukee famous, but if you only have Schlitz in your fridge, you're already out of beer!"

I laughed at the riffs on the radio commercials I'd heard during Reds games in the 70s -- 'Schlitz, the beer that made Milwaukee famous' and 'If you are out of Schlitz, you are out of beer', along with 'You only go around once in life, so grab all the gusto you can'.

"Are you sure, Meg?" I asked.

"No, but you know what? I want to do it anyway."

"We can work our way into it," Nicole suggested. "Let's give Jonathan a joint blowjob, he can cum in my mouth, and then you and I will French kiss, and if he's game, both French kiss him."

"He's game for that," Meg declared. "Trust me!"

"She's not wrong," I confirmed.

"Then," Nicole said happily, "shall we repair to the boudoir so Meg and I can each give up a virginity -- my hetero one and her lesbian one?"

I took Nicole's left hand and Meg's right and led them up to my bedroom, closing and locking the door once we were inside.

"May I make a suggestion?" I asked.

"It's your room, so your rules!" Nicole declared.

"Let's work through the bases...and if at any point Meg feels uncomfortable, she can stop."

"I'll be fine," Meg said.

"So, take turns?" Nicole asked. "Like you and me, you and Meg, then Meg and me?"

I nodded, "That will work. Then when we get to third base, we do what you suggested."

"And then," Nicole said with a sly smile, "Meg and I sixty-nine, then each of us sixty-nine with you."

"No objections here!" I declared.

Both girls laughed.

"For home plate," Nicole continued, "you fuck me, you fuck Meg, then she and I sixty-nine with your cum in us."

"That's five," Meg said. "He can go seven times, so after those five, how about a tit fuck for me and a second time for Nicole to round it out? Then sleep together."

"And in the morning," Nicole added, "One on his face, one on his dick, then switch, and last you and I sixty-nine again."

"And then a shower," I suggested.

"I think we have a plan!" Nicole exclaimed. "Shall we begin?"

I nodded and held out my arms, and Nicole stepped forward.

"Everything I do with you will be a first with a guy," she said, "just as everything Meg does with me will be her first with a girl."

Nicole was short, and it made more sense to have her sit on my lap to kiss, so I sat on the edge of the bed, and Nicole sat on my lap. She winked, our lips touched, hers parted, and I gently pushed my tongue into her mouth. Nicole was a very good kisser and really got into it. As we kissed, our hands roamed over each other's backs, and it dawned on me we hadn't set any time limits.

Nicole answered that question about five minutes later when she broke our latest kiss and said, "Your turn, Meg!"

Nicole got up from my lap and Meg took her place, and we kissed for about five minutes before she broke the kiss and stood up. This was the first 'moment of truth', and I was confident that if Meg could French kiss Nicole, she'd go all the way, as it were, though I knew it was possible she might decide to stop at some point. I was also sure that even if that happened, they'd each still be with me.

The girls' height difference was only about four inches, as opposed to about ten inches between Nicole and me, so the girls embraced standing up, and Nicole took the lead, planting a quick kiss on Meg's lips. After a few more quick kisses, they locked lips, and their tongues began to tangle. After about thirty seconds, Meg really got into the kiss, tightening her arms around Nicole.

"That was strange," Meg said about five minutes later when they moved apart. "But not strange enough to stop!"

"Some people have different ideas about second base," Nicole observed. "Which one do we follow?"

"Touch anywhere, but only kiss above the waist?" Meg replied.

"Do we strip?" Nicole asked.

"How about we leave on our panties, and Jonathan leaves on his briefs," Nicole suggested. "That defines the kissing limit, but hands inside are OK. Just don't make Jonathan cum, or we'll mess up the plan because physiology is a bitch!"

I laughed, "I have never once complained! And I've had no complaints!"

The three of us quickly removed our clothes, with me keeping on my briefs and the girls keeping on their panties.

"Nice," Nicole said, looking Meg up and down.

"I agree!" I declared. "And you're equally sexy!"

"Right! These goosebumps compared to her really nice chest?" Nicole groused.

"Look at it this way," I said, "you get to play with them, and that is what matters! That's how I look at it! Any breast made available to me is awesome, big, small, or in between! May I demonstrate?"

"Yes!" Nicole exclaimed.

I sat back down on the edge of the bed, and Nicole came to sit on my lap. We began kissing, and I moved my hand to cup her small, firm breast, her hard nipple pressing into my palm. I shifted my hand a bit so I could rub her nipple with my thumb. About a minute later, I broke our kiss, lowered my head, and took her nipple into my mouth, sucking gently and teasing it with my tongue.

Although it was a bit awkward for her, Nicole slipped her hand inside my briefs and ran her fingers along my rock-hard shaft.

"Ellie wasn't kidding," she breathed.

I continued sucking on Nicole's nipple and lowered my hand between her legs, and began rubbing gently over her cotton panties. As I did that, Nicole wrapped her hand around my shaft and began stroking. I released her nipple at that point, and we French kissed as she stroked me, and I rubbed her. I had to be careful not to take things too far, lest I mess up the plans we'd made, so after another minute, I broke the kiss and moved my hand.

"My turn!" Meg declared.

She received similar treatment from me but only cupped my shaft in her hand through my briefs, being careful not to stimulate me too much. We kissed and touched for a few minutes, then Meg moved from my lap.

"Let's lie down on the bed next to each other," Nicole suggested to Meg.

Meg nodded, and they both got into bed, lying on their sides, facing each other. After a few kisses, Nicole gently pushed Meg onto her back, lowered her head to Meg's large breast, and slipped her hand inside Meg's panties. Meg was clearly into it as she put a hand on the back of Nicole's head and moaned softly as Nicole licked her nipples and massaged her clit.

After a few minutes, Nicole moved to her back, and Meg tentatively lowered her mouth to Nicole's small breast and ran her tongue around Nicole's nipple. Meg repeated that with Nicole's other nipple, then took the first one into her mouth and slipped her hand inside Nicole's panties. A few minutes later, Meg surprised me when she moved her hand from inside Nicole's panties to her mouth and licked her fingers.

"Interesting," she observed. "Jonathan, do all girls taste different?"

I nodded, "They each have their own unique flavor."

The girls sat up, and Nicole's eyes focused expectantly on my crotch. Not wanting to disappoint, I quickly slipped off my briefs, allowing my erection to spring free.

"Pointers?" Nicole asked Meg.

"Your family runs an ice cream shop, so it's simple!" Meg exclaimed. "Treat it like a soft-serve cone and eventually like a Popsicle. In both cases, use your hand to stroke the part of the shaft you can't fit into your mouth."

"You say that as if someone could!"

"I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes!" Meg declared.

She was referring to Ellie, though a few other girls had managed as well. I actually preferred a swirling tongue around my glans, but as with breasts, I wasn't going to object to what a girl wanted to do if she was going to engage in oral sex!

"Jonathan, lie down," Meg suggested. "Nicole, we'll use our tongues to start, then I'll demonstrate, and you can make him cum."

"Then you and I French kiss, and we each French kiss Jonathan," Nicole added.

"Yes," Meg agreed.

"I think you're both wearing too many clothes," I observed with a grin.

The girls laughed and quickly stripped off their panties, with Nicole revealing a partly shaved mons with a thick rectangular patch of reddish-orange pubic hair. I smiled in appreciation, making sure I also focused on Meg's wispy patch of fine blonde hair that barely covered her mons.

Before I got into bed, I arranged the pillows against the headboard so I could lean against them, as there was literally no chance that I wouldn't watch what I expected was going to be an amazing joint blowjob. Once I was settled, the girls got into bed next to me. Meg moved so we could kiss, then Nicole did the same. Following the kisses, Meg slid down and licked my right nipple, and Nicole mimicked her by licking my left nipple.

When both girls closed their mouths around my nipples, sucked, and teased them with their tongues, I groaned from the intense pleasure. Girls rarely did that, but I liked it, and having both nipples sucked and licked at the same time felt fantastic. I twitched and wondered if it were possible to cum simply from having my nipples pleasured.

Meg released my nipple and began kissing down my body, and Nicole copied her. When they reached my groin, each girl planted one kiss on my glans, then Meg ran her tongue along my shaft, from top to bottom, and Nicole copied her. I watched intently as two tongues began bathing my shaft and glans in saliva, and I felt pressure building much quicker than it usually did.

The girls coördinated their motions so that as one tongue ran down my shaft, the other moved up my shaft, each licking my glans when they reached it. Every second of watching the sexy, erotic display edged me ever closer to the point of no return. When Meg decided to close her mouth around my glans and suck gently, I groaned and almost lost it. I managed to hold back, and she released me. Nicole stopped as well, looking to Meg for direction.

"Give him a minute to breathe," Meg smirked. "Then I'll demonstrate!"

I regulated my breathing and willed myself to relax, and that, combined with the girls not having their mouths on me, dialed the urgency back just enough that I wouldn't lose it right away. Meg waited a full two minutes before she took me into her mouth, grasped my shaft, and began stroking while she bobbed her head and swirled her tongue.

Watching her as she pleasured me quickly brought me once again close to the point of no return. After only a minute, I twitched, and Meg, with her experience, knew what that meant, so she released me.

"Your turn," she said to Nicole. "But instead of your hand, let me use my tongue. Be ready because he won't last long at this point."

Nicole lowered her head and slowly took me into her mouth, swirling her tongue around my glans, taking me about halfway before she backed off. She did that once more, then began bobbing while Meg ran her lips and tongue over my shaft. I tried to hold back but failed. I twitched hard and groaned, then jets of cum spurted from my dick into Nicole's mouth. She swirled her tongue and sucked, and Meg continued licking my shaft until the strong pulses weakened, then stopped.

As soon as Nicole was sure I was finished, she released me and quickly locked lips with Meg, and they exchanged a fierce French kiss. The kiss was short, and then each girl French kissed me in turn, first Nicole, then Meg, each with some of my cum in their mouths.

"Shall we?" Nicole asked Meg.

"In for a penny, in for a pound!" Meg declared. "This is the very definition of grabbing the gusto!"

"Just remember," Nicole said, "you have a clit, so you know what feels good. Do that, and I guarantee I'll enjoy it! You should be on top, OK?"

I shifted to give the girls room but ensured I had a birds-eye view as Meg moved to straddle Nicole's face with her own face just above Nicole's mons. Meg lowered her pussy to Nicole's mouth and then planted a few kisses on Nicole's thighs before running the tip of her tongue along Nicole's labia.

Meg took a deep breath, then closed her mouth around Nicole's labia and pressed her tongue between them. The girls spent the next ten minutes orally pleasuring each other as I looked on, giving each other orgasms, though I couldn't tell how many, as their moans and groans weren't necessarily indicative of orgasms.

Meg moved off Nicole and turned so they were lying the same way, next to each other. Nicole gently pulled Meg into a searing French kiss, with Meg on top of Nicole. Nicole wrapped her arms and legs around Meg as they kissed and flexed her hips, simulating intercourse. They did that for a few minutes, then both sat up.

"That was totally weird," Meg said.

"It felt great," Nicole said. "You got me there three times!"

"Only once for me," Meg said.

"I think that was nerves," Nicole observed. "My first time was like that."

"Is it something you'll do again, Meg?" I asked.

"You mean after tonight and tomorrow morning? Maybe, but it just feels strange to do it. That said, my first time with a guy felt strange, too, so I'll have to see how I feel tomorrow."

"Nicole, is it OK to ask why you waited this long to be with a guy?" I inquired.

"I didn't have sex at all until earlier this year. I went to a parochial High School and there were a few girls who interested me, but I didn't know if they would be interested or not. I couldn't take the risk, because I didn't want the fact I liked girls to be public knowledge. There were a few guys who I thought were hot, but they didn't excite me the way the hot girls did.

"When I came to Loyola, I did my best to get to know as many girls as possible and eventually figured out which ones I could approach. I made out with a few, and then in January, finally went all the way; well, for two girls, which I think is tongues in each other's pussies. We were together a few times, then I was with another girl a few times in March. That's when I heard about the party and other details from Ellie and decided it would be a good way to experiment with a guy. We know Meg was thirteen; how old were you?"

"Seventeen, and my girlfriend was sixteen. We were both virgins. How old was the guy, Meg?"

"Fifteen, and he was a virgin."

"And my first was nineteen, the same as me, but she was experienced," Nicole said. "Are you ready, Jonathan?"

"Yes," I replied. "Sixty-nine?"

"Yes, I think I have the hang of it from before, though I hope it lasts longer!"

"It will!" I promised. "You two had me so hot that you were lucky I managed to hold out that long!"

I adjusted the pillows, lay down on my back, and Nicole moved to straddle my face with her head over my crotch. She pressed her labia to my lips, grasped my shaft, and took my glans into her mouth. I pressed my tongue into her and rapidly hardened as Nicole sucked gently and stroked my shaft. When she began bobbing, I moved my hands between us so I could rub her nipples while I teased her clit with my tongue.

Nicole did, indeed, have the hang of it, and her mouth felt great. Not wanting to disappoint, I nipped, licked, and sucked on her clit, eliciting a moan, then a shudder, and then the spasms of an orgasm. I got Nicole there twice more before she took me over the edge, and I groaned as spurts of cum filled her mouth.

When my orgasm had run its course, Nicole bobbed a few more times, then released me. She turned, lay on top of me, and French kissed me. Unsurprisingly, she hadn't swallowed, and I got a mouth full of my own cum as she ground her mons against my still-hard shaft. We kissed until she brought herself off, and then she moved off me.

"That was fun!" Nicole declared.

"I agree!" I confirmed.

"How long do you need?" Nicole asked.

"Usually, ten minutes or so is sufficient," I replied.

"Meg, sixty-nine again while Jonathan recovers?"

"Oh, I suppose," Meg replied with a silly theatrical sigh.

I moved a bit to give the girls room, and they engaged in sixty-nine for about ten minutes, then Meg moved up to kiss me. After a French kiss that tasted of Nicole, Meg turned, straddled me, and we had our own sixty-nine session, with Meg having three good orgasms before her soft mouth and tongue brought me off. She did exactly what Nicole had done, French kissing me with a mouth full of my cum and grinding against my shaft until she brought herself off.

"Ten to fifteen minutes, right?" Meg asked.

"Yes, but I'll use it to pleasure Nicole with my mouth. When I'm hard, I'll slide into home!"

Nicole moved the pillows and reclined against them.

"I think watching will be sexy," she observed. "I've never watched because it's always been sixty-nine."

"Mirrors on the ceiling would be perfect!" Meg declared.

"Have you done that?" Nicole asked.

"No, but I've heard about it! It's too bad Jonathan will very likely be off the market when we come back to school because I'm positive he'd agree to install them, given he liked watching us blow him!"

I began by kissing Nicole, then lowered my head to her small breast and took her nipple into my mouth. I took my time licking Nicole's breasts, sucking on her nipples, and teasing them with my tongue, as having cum three times, it would be at least ten minutes before I was ready to go again.

Eventually, I kissed my way down her body, rubbing my nose in her reddish-orange pubic hair and planting kisses along her labia. I pressed my tongue into her, slipped my arms under her thighs, and used my thumbs to rub her nipples as I pleasured her clit. I brought her off twice before I felt the first stirrings, and after a third orgasm for Nicole, I was ready.

I moved up, positioned my glans against her labia, lowered my lips to hers, and as our tongues met, I pushed my hips forward, parting her labia and slowly entering her slick, tight tunnel. Nicole moaned into my mouth, then groaned when I was fully embedded in her and my pubic bone pushed against hers.

"Holy hell!" she gasped, breaking the kiss.

"You OK?"

"Yes!"

We kissed for a bit, then I began moving with slow, measured strokes. After three of those, Nicole wrapped her legs around me, rested her heels on my butt, and began moving her hips to meet each thrust. I had absolutely no urgency despite her pussy fitting me like a glove, and continued the slow-motion screw for almost fifteen minutes, giving Nicole four good orgasms before I pushed deep inside her. I ground against her, she had a fifth orgasm, and the spasms of her muscles brought me over the edge, causing me to pump jet after jet of cum deep inside her.

When my orgasm had passed, I slowly pulled out and moved off Nicole, lying on my back next to her.

"What did you think of Jonathan sliding into home with an inside-the-park home run?" Meg asked Nicole.

"I felt SO full," Nicole replied. "And he made me feel great! Feeling his cum inside me was really sexy, and I'm positive now that I'm bi!"

"Which doubles your chance of a date on Friday nights!" I teased.

Both girls laughed, then Meg moved to the other side of me, and we lay quietly on the bed for a few minutes. After my breathing returned to normal, I repeated my performance with Meg, though it was much more energetic than with Nicole, and when Meg and I finished screwing, the three of us once again lay side by side in my bed.

That was only for a moment, as Nicole climbed over me so that she and Meg could sixty-nine while I recovered. Meg was much more enthusiastic this round, and I could tell she brought Nicole off several times. When they were reasonably sated, they lay once again on either side of me.

"Jonathan, is there anything you won't do with a girl?" Nicole asked. "Well, assuming you're not bi, which I don't believe you are."

"I'm straight," I replied. "And we've come close to running the gamut of things I like doing, though tasting my own cum is only something I tolerate."

"Guys are so hung up on that!" Nicole said with a laugh.

"And," I countered, "I know girls who would never, under any circumstances, want to taste pussy juice!"

"Speaking of tolerating that," Meg said. "After the tit fuck, I want you two to take turns kissing me, but you have to kiss some spot where the cum landed before kissing my lips."

"Of course you want that," I chuckled. "You and several other girls seem to get off on that!"

"Which is why you tolerate it, right?" Nicole asked.

"Yes," I confirmed.

"Have you done other stuff?"

"A 'girl sundae'," I said, electing not to name names. "Basically chocolate fudge sauce, whipped cream, and cherries placed in strategic places and licked off."

"Ooh!" Nicole cooed. "That sounds cool! I'll have to remember that for the future! Anything else?"

"Another one I tolerate, and only barely -- anal. I've done it a few times at the express request of a girl, but it's absolutely not my thing."

"I'm not interested in doing that," Nicole said. "And if I were, I'd find a MUCH smaller guy to try it with!"

"I can't even imagine!" Meg exclaimed with a soft laugh. "It's such a tight fit in front that back there? No way!"

"You won't find me disappointed at neither of you being interested in that!"

"And this is where I double-dog dare Meg," Nicole said with a smirk.

"And then I say, 'You first'!" Meg retorted.

"And Jonathan prefers NEITHER of you go first, second, or last!" I declared.

"But you would if we actually wanted to," Nicole inquired, "though obviously we don't."

"If you asked, I'd strongly consider it," I replied. "But I'd much rather do any of the other stuff we've done."

"Nicole," Meg said, "let's get him hard together, then he can tit fuck me."

"Something completely impossible for him to do with me!" Nicole groused. "But, yes, let's!"

They proceeded to give me another exquisite joint blowjob, though they stopped before they made me cum, at which point I got lube and spread it on my shaft. I straddled Meg, who pushed her breasts together, and I began gently thrusting between them. Given I'd cum five times, I knew it would actually take a bit of effort to cum, but Nicole neatly solved that by putting her mouth on me so that the upper part of my shaft and glans passed across her lips and tongue as I thrust back and forth.

The combination was extremely pleasurable, and I easily had an orgasm about seven minutes later, shooting cum onto Meg's nose, lips, chin, and neck. Nicole took the last small spurt herself, closing her mouth around my glans, sucking, and swirling her tongue.

When she released me, I moved from straddling Meg, and Nicole licked a small pool of cum from Meg's breastbone, then French kissed her. I followed suit, licking up a small drop on Meg's neck, then French kissing her. Nicole and I took turns until Meg was clean, then once again, the three of us lay side-by-side.

"You can go once more before we sleep, right?" Meg inquired.

"I expect so," I replied. "I'll probably need encouragement, but sixty-nine would work as well."

"I don't want to leave Meg out," Nicole said. "What if I straddle your face while she sucks you? You could hold out if she rode you for a bit, right?"

"Yes," I replied.

Which is what we did, with Nicole riding my face while Meg worked to get me hard. It took a bit of effort, but once she achieved our goal, she mounted me. Meg turned around so they could kiss and play with each other's breasts. As soon as Meg had an orgasm, she lifted off, and Nicole moved off my face and onto her back. She spread her legs, I moved between them, and easily slid all the way home in one smooth stroke.

"Fuck me hard this time!" Nicole requested.

I was happy to oblige, and two minutes later, we were fucking hard and fast, with me trying to drive Nicole through the mattress and she trying to buck me off, though with her legs wrapped tightly around me, that didn't happen. I had no urgency, and we fucked hard for nearly fifteen minutes, with Nicole having several huge orgasms before I came, though I had very little cum left to shoot.

"Pull out and move off, Jonathan," Meg requested.

I did, and she quickly took me in her mouth, bobbed, licked, and sucked for a minute before she dove between Nicole's legs and lustily licked Nicole to an orgasm. Meg French kissed both of us, Nicole and I exchanged our own kiss, then the three of us snuggled together to fall asleep.

June 11, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Saturday morning, we did as we'd planned -- the girls double-teaming me, one with my dick in her, the other with my tongue in her, facing each other to kiss and play with each other's breasts. I came in both of them, then they had their final sixty-nine before we went to the shower. After the shower, we dressed, changed the sheets on the bed, then went downstairs to have breakfast.

"Winners?" Bianca asked with a smirk when she passed us on the stairs.

"Oh, absolutely!" Nicole declared.

The three of us had breakfast, then I walked the girls to Nicole's car.

"If by some chance you aren't in a relationship in August, I'd like an encore," Nicole requested. "I had an amazing time!"

"Me, too!" I agreed.

I hugged and kissed each girl, wished them a fun Summer, then they got into the car. Once they had driven away, I went back inside, cleaned up the kitchen, then found Bianca so we could do the grocery shopping.

"I bet that was fun," she said with a smirk as we got into my car.

"It was enjoyable."

"I'm surprised the other girls went home."

"I actually changed my mind because Ellie had gone ridiculously over the top, and what she had in mind didn't seem fun."

"How so?"

"Nine girls in what amounted to an assembly line. I was already thinking of retiring from the Great American Pastime, and that confirmed it. I left before we met the other girls and came home. Meg showed up about ninety minutes later with Nicole. They brought a movie, we popped popcorn, watched the movie, then invited Meg to stay, knowing she was going home for the Summer. After a short conversation, Nicole, who was Meg's ride, decided to stay as well."

"Ellie has to be fit to be tied."

"From one perspective, I don't care. It was actually HER kink she was fulfilling -- getting off on watching other people have sex. I honestly believe I had more fun with those two than I would have had with nine."

"I can actually see that. With two, it's more personal; with nine, it's almost mechanical. Like you're a human dildo."

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "That's exactly it. Changing topics, though not completely, we need to discuss timing."

"You mean for a baby, right? Because you're going to ask Keiko to be your girlfriend?"

"Wife, actually," I replied. "Or at least I'm strongly considering that."

"I'm not surprised, though I don't think you should do that just yet, and not only for selfish reasons."

"Keiko actually agrees with you. She asked me to wait, but she'll say 'yes' if I ask now."

"Shouldn't you at least wait to hear the results on Monday?"

"I suppose, though I don't see how it would change things one way or the other."

"Seriously?" Bianca asked. "If it's bad news..."

"In a way, as counter-intuitive as it sounds, I think that would make it more important."

"That makes sense, which is scary, but I've lived in Jonathanland long enough to actually understand your strange approach to life!"

I laughed, "Is my reality really THAT warped?"

"In some ways, yes, it is. When logic overrides all else, and you analyze every minute detail, the outcomes seem warped compared to how anyone else would do things. That's not bad, just different. To answer your question on timing, I think the significant changes since the last time we discussed it warrant a reconsideration."

"You mean because you start at Spurgeon on Monday?"

"Yes. It would have been difficult for me -- for us -- to balance everything, especially given my parents would absolutely stop helping with tuition. Now, though, with Spurgeon offering tuition reimbursement, not to mention a salary higher than where most people with undergrad degrees start, plus health insurance, there's no reason we'd have to delay. But given your timeline, we'd have to start trying now, basically, and I remember it takes on average six months to a year to get pregnant."

"My mom and Bev would disagree!" I chuckled.

"Yes, of course, but anecdotes aren't data! For every sixteen-year-old that gets pregnant easily, there's a married couple who take years to conceive, and some never do."

"I hadn't considered that part with my compressed timeframe. I think I need to discuss it with Keiko, though she was pretty clear about no longer tolerating me playing around once we were a couple, which I totally expected and with which I agree."

"I'm going to stop taking the Pill," Bianca said. "You're the only guy I sleep with, and science fiction aside, Juliette can't get me pregnant! You and I would just need to use rubbers if we didn't want to conceive."

"So, no other guys?"

"Not if you and I have a kid. If we don't, then yes, there would be one more. I actually strongly prefer girls, no insult intended."

"None taken. I'll speak to Keiko this afternoon."

"Sounds good. I'll stop taking the Pills as of today, so we have to be careful if we don't want to conceive."

"Understood!"

I turned into the Jewel parking lot, pulled into a parking spot, and once I shut off the engine, we got out of the car. I locked it, then Bianca and I went into the store to do our weekly shopping. An hour later, after stopping at the dry cleaners, we arrived home. We carried in the brown grocery bags, put everything away, and I went upstairs to change for my dinner date with Teri, though I'd spend a few hours at the hospital with Keiko before that.

"Hi," Keiko said when I walked into her room about forty minutes later.

"Hi. How are you?"

"Lousy, but what else is new?"

"No changes?"

"No. I'll have another transfusion later today, now that they've drawn the blood, they need to assess my progress."

"OK. Has anyone else been by?"

"Lily, Costas, and Trevor stopped by this morning right after my grandparents were here. And Jack and Kristy stopped by for a few minutes about thirty minutes ago."

"Good. If it's OK with you, Bianca will come with me once or twice a week after work."

"That's right, she's working with you starting Monday, right?"

"Yes."

"It's OK, of course."

"I did want to talk to you about her request."

Keiko smiled, "Which is only a concern because you don't listen!"

I laughed, "I do listen, but I analyze what I hear, then decide to act!"

"If you have a ring in your pocket, please keep it there at least until Monday, OK?"

I smiled, "Schrödinger's Ring may or may not exist. And I'll honor that request."

"Thank you," Keiko replied with a smile of her own. "I think the extent of compromise is up to the day we take our vows, if you do what I expect you to do in the very near future. That actually provides you with enough flexibility in that you can ask, but we don't have the ceremony until she's pregnant or some agreed amount of time passes. But only her, Jonathan. And only for the specific purpose."

"Am I allowed to enjoy it?" I asked with a smirk.

Keiko laughed softly, "You're a guy! You always have an orgasm!"

"Last I checked, so do you!"

"Maybe," she said with a sly smile. "But what I was getting at is there are times when a girl is more fertile than others, and that's when you should, and not just because you want to."

"I can't argue with you, given how much you're compromising there."

"And speaking of that, how was the baseball game?"

"Canceled due to a player's strike," I replied with a smirk.

"What happened? And who was on strike?"

"I was on strike. Ellie, instead of it being her, Miranda, Meg, and Kasey, added five other girls. I balked, called the game, and went home."

"Wow! I bet she's pissed."

"Probably, but I don't care. Before I called it off, I had told her I was retiring as of last night, which already had her unhappy."

"What about her wanting to work with you?"

"This will be a test of her maturity. If she can't deal with it, that's on her, not on me. That said, I didn't spend last night alone. About ninety minutes after I left Loyola, Meg showed up with a movie and microwave popcorn and asked if I wanted company, but with no commitment other than seeing the movie. I agreed and invited her friend Nicole, who had given her a ride, to stay to see the movie as well."

"And, being Jonathan, you ended up in bed with both of them."

"Yes. The difference is that it was an enjoyable interaction with two very nice girls, as opposed to what would have been a mechanical, assembly-line encounter. And unless you object, I'll ask Kasey and Miranda out once each because I don't want them to think they were responsible for me canceling the game."

"Until you ask me, you're free to do whatever makes you happy; after you ask..."

And if I wanted to keep my promise to Deanna and CeCi, I'd need at least a week, as CeCi wouldn't be with us until mid-week.

"I understand," I said. "And I agree with you on that, with the exception we discussed for Bianca, with a limited purpose and timeframe. Just so we're totally on the same page, you're OK with me seeing Violet as a friend in the future, right?"

"Yes, of course. Despite how she feels about you, Bianca and I are convinced she can't actually act on those feelings because of the evil things her parents did."

"Then I think we have an agreed framework for moving forward."

"Yes," Keiko said. "We do."

LVII. I Love You

June 11, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I spent three hours with Keiko, during which she received a transfusion. When I left the hospital, I headed to Teri's house in Bridgeport, which was less than ten minutes from the hospital. Teri was ready to go, and we left the house right away to head to Maxim's for dinner, something we'd agreed on when we'd made our date.

As I drove, I contemplated what to say to Teri and decided that because there was, in effect, an end date when she went to UofI, I didn't need to say anything until I had all my ducks in a row and was ready to move forward with Keiko. The way things had developed, I was glad I hadn't done anything to move my relationship with Teri forward beyond a weekly date.

I knew it might appear I was hedging my bets, and I admitted to myself that I was, but it simply didn't make sense to close a door until it was strictly necessary. I knew the source of that thinking, and it was that Keiko might not be one of the fifty percent who made it, and that was enough to cause me to delay telling Teri. I wondered what she would think of that, but I had no intent of explaining it to her in detail and didn't feel I needed to, at least immediately.

"James Bond or Eddie Murphy and Dan Aykroyd?" Teri asked, interrupting my thoughts.

"I'm OK with either Octopussy or Trading Places," I replied.

"Then it's Trading Places," Teri declared. "How is your friend with leukemia?"

"About as you would expect someone who had just undergone chemo to be. She's slowly recovering from the treatment, but it's a struggle."

"What are you doing now that class is out?"

"Nothing, at least with regard to school. I visit Keiko every day after work, but otherwise, I just use the extra time in the evenings to relax or hang out with friends."

"I want to ask you a question," Teri said, "and if it bothers you, just say so, and I'll drop it."

"OK," I replied. "Go ahead."

"Actually, now that I think about it, I'm not sure you can answer, given everything you've said, but here goes -- what will it take to move things forward?"

I was tempted to defer the conversation, but decided it was better to have it, rather than have it appear I had been leading her on, instead of truly evaluating her as a suitable partner.

"I think the only answer I can give is 'time'," I replied. "To be completely honest, Keiko's situation has caused me to think about my relationship with her and where it might lead."

Teri frowned, "I know this is going to sound bad, but how can anyone compete with a girl with cancer? I'm not saying you're moved by pity, but even not wanting to hurt her puts anyone else at a serious disadvantage."

"I can't argue with what you just said," I replied. "I do like Keiko, and her illness has certainly caused me to think differently and, in some ways, has brought some clarity."

"I had thought the competition was Bev or Violet, but I was mistaken. I also made an error in judgment back in March."

"How so?" I asked.

"I should have gone to bed with you."

"You would have violated your personal rule?"

"In hindsight, it would have changed the character of the relationship and avoided the arguments, and, I think, been successful. Obviously, I'm just speculating, but I think doing that before your friend was diagnosed would have made a significant difference. But that ship sailed, so to speak, because at this point, it wouldn't change anything, would it?"

"I certainly couldn't promise that it would, even to the point of making it more likely we ended up as a couple. I really need more clarity about Keiko's situation before I decide anything."

"Strongly implying she's in what amounts to an unassailable position."

"That might be a bit too strong, but only a bit."

Teri sighed, "Which means we're just playing out the string, so to speak. That stinks because...may I be blunt?"

"I am, so I certainly can't object to someone else being blunt."

"You are the only guy I've ever met who truly tempted me to go to bed with him before my wedding night. There's really something special about you, and I can't put my finger on it or describe it. It just feels right. It did back in March, but I stuck to my principle."

"Which is not a bad thing," I replied. "Despite meaning I missed out on something special."

"You feel it, too?" Teri asked, surprised.

"I told a close friend that there was something about you that I simply couldn't describe that made me want to see you again, and I mean beyond the gorgeous red hair, beautiful eyes, and nice body."

Teri laughed softly, "And for me beyond tall, dark, and handsome, with a big...wallet!"

I laughed, "No comment."

"Silliness aside, now I'm convinced things would have been different if I'd made different choices."

"The thing is," I counseled, "we all have to be true to ourselves. You were being true to your principles, just as I was. Remember, I said I'd turn you down."

"Yes, but that was after we had the debate and after the ultimatum, which wasn't really an ultimatum. Answering 'put up' wouldn't have been acceptable to you at that point because it would have violated your principles, despite the fact that you're OK with casual sex. No judgment, just an observation."

"It's an interesting hypothetical," I replied, "but I don't know how to evaluate how something speculative would have turned out. It would be an alternate reality, kind of like science fiction stories where someone travels back in time and changes things. But we don't have a time machine to attempt a do-over."

"No, we don't," Teri agreed. "And that leaves me with a stark choice -- I stop seeing you, or I go to bed with you and hope for the best. But I know your answer already. Despite your desire and interest, you won't risk hurting me, even if I were to say I didn't expect any specific result."

"Because," I replied carefully, "I think subconsciously you would expect that result, and you'd be hurt."

"And yet, ending things will hurt, too. I think you know that because I decided to keep seeing you even after the argument that led you to say, 'Put up or shut up'. I'm hurt either way."

"But with your principles honored," I replied.

"The thing is, if I'm going to feel hurt either way, why not choose the course of action that at least had a remote possibility of success?"

I nodded, "I see your point, but I'll point out that you have a third option -- see how things develop in the next nine weeks."

"Which still likely ends the same way," Teri sighed.

"I freely admit that's true, but it does provide a path forward that doesn't involve violating a core principle and which leaves open all possibilities, no matter how remote. It's up to you, really."

"If it were up to me, I'd tell you to take me to your house and take me to bed, but it's not, so let's have dinner and see the movie and try to enjoy ourselves.

"Sounds good," I replied.

We had a nice dinner, then went to the theatre to see Trading Places which we both found hilarious, though I shook my head at some of the silliness about the portrayal of the commodities markets. Given it was played for comedic purposes, I felt it would be out of line to critique that part of an otherwise awesome movie.

"What did you think of Jamie Lee Curtis?" Teri asked when we left the theatre to walk to my car.

"I think I'm not nearly dumb enough to make ANY comparison to any individual I might happen to know!"

Teri laughed, "It's OK to say you liked what you saw!"

"She does have a nice body," I replied. "But you know that's only a tiny part of attraction, right? It's the first thing you see, but it's also the last thing you should be concerned about in a successful relationship."

"You really believe that?"

"Don't you? I mean, yes, of course, you need to be attracted to the person, but there's more than red hair, green eyes, and a nice body or tall, dark, and handsome."

"With a big...wallet!" she smirked. "Speaking of which, that movie wasn't accurate, was it?"

"Not even close," I chuckled. "I mean, yes, it had a vague relationship to reality, but they played it for laughs, which is fine. If it had been put forward as a documentary or was meant to portray it as a serious plot point instead of a comedic one, I'd have said something. But I like to laugh as much as the next person, and I didn't feel the need to say anything about the license they took with commodities trading."

We reached the car, and I helped Teri in, then got into the driver's seat. Once I'd buckled in, I started the car and headed for Teri's house.

"I know your response to this, but I need to say it -- you can take me home and take me to bed if you want."

"I do want," I replied. "But that doesn't mean I will. My question is if you want to see me next Saturday?"

"Well, if I say 'no', that's the end, so I pretty much have to say 'yes'. Thank you for not becoming upset with me again."

"Honest discussions are always welcome; the problem was when you were trying to score points or force things to go a certain way. Tonight, we had a very mature, very adult, very frank conversation. I very much want to go to bed with you, but until I can honestly say that there is a realistic chance we'd be a couple, I can't do it."

"As much as I hate the outcome, thank you for being honest. Same time next Saturday?"

"Yes."

June 12, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Still can't get Teri into bed?" Bianca teased when she came downstairs on Sunday morning.

"I chose not to try, given where I am at this point. Speaking of that, I did speak to Keiko about our discussion, and once you have breakfast, we should speak privately."

"OK. Bubble bath?"

"I could see my way clear to do that," I replied.

I finished reading the paper while Bianca made her breakfast and ate it, then we went up to my bedroom. I started the bath, we undressed, and got into the tub with the rising water and bubbles, with Bianca reclining against me.

"Keiko was practical, as always," I said. "She drew a hard line at a future date when we took vows, but she's flexible about the timing before then. The bottom line is she won't stand in our way of having a baby together, even if she and I have decided to marry. It just has to happen before whatever ceremony we have occurs."

"So, no playing around, but you could have sex with me to make a baby, right?"

"Exactly," I confirmed. "I'm reasonably certain Keiko wouldn't want a ceremony before we could take a honeymoon, which means if I were to ask her now, we'd have about a year, if I understand Doctor Morrison correctly."

"She did mention she has multiple rounds of chemo upcoming, about four weeks apart," Bianca stated.

"And there's potentially a third phase as well."

"I want to ask you something, and I know you won't be offended -- can you really go 'cold turkey' with regard to sex?"

"According to you, it could take a year or longer for you to get pregnant, so it wouldn't be unless we're a couple who happen to conceive easily. Keiko did point out that it wasn't license to screw at will, but within whatever parameters are consistent with the likelihood of conception."

"That's about ten days during the middle of the cycle," Bianca said. "Ten days in a row, twice per day."

"Which, if what you say about conception is accurate, she'll be OK with. The question is timing."

"When do you intend to propose?" Bianca asked.

"I expect it'll be by the end of the month," I replied.

"Much sooner than I expected," Bianca observed, "but not really surprising. As for you and me, this month is basically shot because my period is in a few days. That means I don't have to decide today if we should start trying. Do you have any idea how maternity leave would work at Spurgeon?"

"It's a firm run by guys for the benefit of guys, so you do the math."

"What's your take on daycare? You know I'm not interested in being a stay-at-home mom."

"I don't have a problem with daycare," I replied, "and we'll easily be able to afford it. Bev has Heather in the daycare where Violet used to work. With our incomes, we could also afford a full-time babysitter, though the challenge there is what happens if the babysitter is sick."

"I think formal daycare makes more sense, but I'm not sure how young they'll take them."

"I think the place Violet used to work will take them at eight months, but I'm not sure."

"What do you think about my grandmother?"

"I've never met her, obviously," I said, "but something else just dawned on me -- we don't have a spare room at the moment, so what will we do about a nursery, or whatever you would call the baby's room. And have you discussed this with Juliette?"

"I haven't discussed it with her, which I need to do, but you are totally missing something about the rooms!"

I thought for a second, then started laughing.

"Keiko's room will be available because she'll move into the master bedroom with me," I said. "OK, so that's not a concern, then. What about Juliette?"

"I'll have to talk to her about it. Does anyone else know you're close to asking Keiko to marry you?"

"I've told Jack, and I believe he's told Kristy. I wasn't going to say anything to anyone else until I actually ask her."

"Then I'll pose the question to Juliette without revealing anything about that. Did you make any commitments to Keiko about what happens before?"

"No, because if I had, you and I wouldn't be in the tub together! She made it clear that what happens before we become a couple is up to me, and she's never tried to pull back on the reins and never acted jealous."

"She's not the jealous type," Bianca declared. "And if you think about the circumstances, she was the 'other woman' in your relationship with Ellie, such as it was. So if you didn't have freedom, she would never be in the position to win."

"I wasn't in a relationship with Ellie," I protested.

"Not exclusive, but she certainly was getting quite a bit of attention from you, and she showed serious interest in learning about the financial markets."

"I know she was interested, but we never did click the way I almost instantly clicked with Keiko, or you, for that matter. And I'm not sure Ellie would be happy in a monogamous situation."

"Your thinking about that confuses me, but you have to do what makes you happy. And I don't mean that in a self-interested way, just that your devotion to the concept of monogamous marriage doesn't fit your overall rejection of Judeo-Christian norms."

"It's something I can't explain. Trust me, I like the situation I'm in a lot, and I like the varied and interesting sex partners, but something just feels right about a traditional marriage."

"Speaking of that, I'm positive you'll hear from Esme because Katy is home, and Esme was clear the two of them wanted to see you again."

"She can ask," I replied. "But I really need to wind things down, and with Esme and Katy, it's just sex, and if I say 'no', there won't be any fallout. I have one promise I need to keep, but beyond that, I think it has to mostly end."

"You're probably right. So, that's it?"

"I think, and this is just off the top of my head, it means just the girls in the house. I had thought about calling Miranda and Kasey and asking them out so they didn't think I was upset with them, but the more I think about it, the less I think that's a good idea. I can ask CeCi to be my date on Friday because, as of Wednesday, she's one of the 'girls in the house'. I'd ask Deanna, but she works, and you hang out with your gang of friends, including Juliette. I'll see Teri on Saturday evenings, but that's not physical beyond a nice kiss goodnight, and Violet, which is limited to hugs and her kissing my cheek."

"How do you think Violet will react?"

"She'll be sad, but she's acknowledged her struggles, and while her counseling has helped with panic attacks, it hasn't cured her, if that's even the right word, of the emotional injuries her parents inflicted on her. It's a serious challenge to any physical relationship with her because the first time might well be the last time, and could end up with her under psychiatric care. There is literally no way to predict which way things will go or where they'll go in either the short term or the long term."

"You mean some kind of relapse?"

"Yes. I'm clearly not an expert, but I understand how she could, in effect, psych herself up to do it and appear fine but, down the road, suffer some kind of emotional breakdown. It's a truly frightening prospect for her and puts me in an impossible situation with her."

"Because, minus her psychological problems, she'd be the one, right?"

"I would never have become involved with Keiko, so probably, yes. But that's all speculation, and we can only guess at the outcome. The big inflection point, as Anala called it, so far in my life was not telling Bev I was planning to come to Chicago until it was a done deal. Had I told her, we'd most likely have come up with a solution, and she'd be here with me without having had Heather. And I wouldn't have met you, or Anala, or...you get the point."

"That things would have been so different that we have no way of knowing what might have happened. If, suddenly tomorrow, both Keiko and Violet were cured of their respective problems, what would you do?"

"I have no idea. It's similar to what I've said about Teri -- I simply cannot put my finger on what it is about her that draws me to her, and before you say 'red hair and green eyes', I'll point out that describes Nicole as well, and I didn't feel the same connection with her."

"I'm curious, but who do you feel you 'connect' best with?"

"You, obviously, Keiko, Teri, and, believe it or not, Deanna."

"Interesting," Bianca said. "Not Violet, but I think that's because of the emotional trauma she had, but more interesting is not Jeri or Anala."

"Jeri and I connect on a business level but not a personal level. In a way, she's a lot like my cousin but not nearly as bitchy. As for Anala, I like her, and we did connect, but she's basically relegated me to the back burner for this new guy she met who's a CS major at IIT. In a strange quirk of fate, he's from Milford, which is maybe ten miles southeast of Goshen."

"Did you and Huifen connect that way?"

"To a point," I replied. "But I never got to the point where I felt I would be able to commit to her. I don't know why, either."

"And the girls with whom you connect?"

"Hypothetically speaking, in the right circumstances, any of you would be viable life partners. That said, you want a different type of life partnership than I want, which is why we're talking about having a baby together, not having some kind of trio."

"But besides Keiko, you could with Deanna or Teri?"

"I suppose the answer is that I could see that, where I don't see it with Bev, Beth, Allyson, or Marcia. As I said about Huifen, I saw it, but I couldn't move to that point for some unknown reason. And just to put the cherry on top of this sundae, I can't tell you the reason I'm preparing to ask Keiko to marry me."

"For anyone else on the planet, I'd say they were in love, but that doesn't fit you, your personality, or your worldview. And that makes me wonder what it is that's affected you this way, but, as you've pointed out, if you don't know your innermost motives, there is no way on earth I can ever know them. Is it simply analysis?"

"Well," I chuckled, "she checks the boxes of being a smart, cute Oriental girl!"

Bianca laughed, "You and your Asian girls! But there is literally no logic to attraction or preferences. So, while you say she 'checks the boxes', I bet you can't articulate WHY those boxes need to be checked, as opposed to brilliant, cute, Hispanic girl!"

"I don't think I have to say this, but you know I think you're very sexy!"

"I do. And that was my point -- you can't articulate why you prefer someone who looks like Keiko, Huifen, or Anala over someone who looks like me, Shelly, or Deanna."

"You're right," I replied. "Any answer I tried to give would really be listing physical features and wouldn't answer the 'why?' question. And this entire conversation is why saying 'I love you' is, in many ways, a meaningless term. The problem is, so many people assign meaning to it that can never be verified or proved, and make decisions based on an emotional feeling."

"So what are you basing yours on?"

"I freely admit I have no firm ground on which to stand. The only thing I can say is that I want to and that I can't find any logical reason not to, despite analyzing it in every possible way. And it was that admission that caused Haley to walk away."

"Keiko wouldn't have a problem with that philosophy, would she?"

'No, she wouldn't. I check her boxes, too."

"Big dick? Knows how to use it?" Bianca teased.

"I actually don't know if that's one of her checkboxes or not! But a shared philosophy and worldview and similar life goals are. We're compatible spiritually, if I can use that term, in the sense that I can relate to Buddhist philosophy, especially the Zen strain, and Shinto has enough wiggle room that it doesn't cause any problems that actually matter for either of us."

"It's not really theistic, which is where I think you draw the line," Bianca observed. "You're OK with the forces of the universe being the overriding organizing principle; it's when they're anthropomorphized into a god or gods that you draw the line. And that, I think, dooms Teri, even if you have that connection. She's the only theist in the bunch, right?"

"Deanna is atheist, like me, though not as staunch about it."

"She's a 'weak atheist' in that she doesn't believe in any gods; you're a 'strong atheist' in that you assert there are no gods. Philosophically, her position is easier to defend because you can't prove a negative."

"The thing is, I don't have to prove it. I don't go around preaching atheism; I simply deny the claims of the theists. The burden of proof is on them, and I'm reasonably certain that they can't prove their point, so I win by default! Fundamentally, all I have to do is say 'prove it', and they're screwed because there is no scientific proof they can offer."

"Miracles?" Bianca asked.

"Arthur C. Clarke's Third Law is printed in the training manuals at Spurgeon -- 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic'. Better, and also quoted there is something by Isaac Asimov -- 'an uninformed public tends to confuse scholarship with magicians'. Fundamentally, miracles are things which we cannot explain via current scientific knowledge, not the work of some mythical all-powerful being."

"Any other good quotes?"

"'Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer'."

"Sun Tzu?" Bianca inquired.

"It does sound like him, but according to the manual, it was Michael Corleone in The Godfather!"

"I have to ask, are you sure about Keiko?"

"I am not uncertain," I replied.

"Huh?"

"That's my code at work for something I think is a lock."

"Why not just say that it's a lock?"

"Because you can't promise something like that to a client! There are no sure things, but when I'm convinced it's going to happen, that's what I say. But it's oblique enough that it couldn't be a promise of a guaranteed return."

"Weasel words? From you?"

"What I'm allowed to legally say is regulated by the SEC, CFTC, CBOT, and a host of other regulatory agencies, including the IRS. The goal is to convey something without crossing a regulatory line. For example, we're required to put a statement in every prospectus that reads 'past performance is no guarantee of future results', and yet, everyone invests with us because of our past performance and the expectation that future results ARE guaranteed by that performance!

"If a customer draws an inference from what we are allowed to say, that's on them, not on us. And what inference do they draw when we show them ten years of historical returns that significantly outperform the market? That we'll do it again this year, of course. And we know they infer that, the SEC knows that they infer that, and yet that one-sentence statement, so long as we don't directly contradict it, protects us completely in the case where we don't perform."

"So, in effect, the client believes you're making a commitment, but you cannot legally make that commitment?"

"And we TELL them we can't. But they ignore that boilerplate statement and look at the impressive size of our...portfolio."

Bianca laughed, "I suspect you'd make all those guys cry if you whipped it out!"

"I have zero interest in a dick-measuring contest! And besides, the only thing they care about is the size of their wallets!"

"Guys are WAY more insecure about that than I think you realize. Haven't you heard sports cars called 'penis extenders'?"

"Yes, but usually, if not always, by people who would have no clue! If I buy a Corvette or a Lamborghini Countach or Lotus Esprit Turbo, am I 'compensating'?"

"I'm going to guess there are guys with those cars?"

"Several Corvettes, one Lamborghini, and one Lotus; the Lamborghini is grey market because it doesn't meet US emissions and safety standards, and Eric Thiele had to have the modifications done on his own. The Lotus belongs to Spurgeon, who also has a 'Vette."

"What does our boss drive?"

"A BMW M6 is his regular car, but he has a collection of classic cars from the 50s, all drivable."

"When it's time for a new car, what will you buy?"

"Cars never excited me any more than Rolex or Patek Philippe watches excite me. I'll buy something nice, but practical; in effect, an upgrade of my LeBaron to something with a bit more luxury. But I don't need to show off a car, a watch, or any other thing. I just need to be comfortable and happy and free to do the things I want to do."

"That totally fits your personality, and I suspect Keiko agrees with you."

"From all indications, I believe she does, but we haven't discussed it. And if she wants a bit of luxury, I'm not going to object."

We got out of the tub, rinsed off in the shower, dried ourselves, then dressed and went downstairs. I read, did laundry, ate lunch, then changed clothes for my visit with Keiko and my dinner with Violet. Once I was dressed, I left the house, and just under thirty minutes later, I walked into Keiko's room, a mask on my face.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"I feel a little better because of the transfusion, but I still have the fever. Doctor Morrison thinks it's a mild reaction to the transfusion, but because my hemoglobin has increased, along with my oxygen saturation, it's not a serious problem. My stomach is a bit better, but my digestive system is still not working right. I have more energy thanks to the transfusion, so I can get out of bed and walk more, but otherwise, I still feel lousy. The nurse says that's normal, and I'll begin to feel a lot better once my digestive system works properly."

"Are you getting enough nutrition?"

"They check my glucose and electrolytes a few times a day, and they're OK, but I've lost a lot of weight that I couldn't really afford to lose. Hopefully, my stomach coöperates, and I can eat normal food this week."

"I had a chat with Bianca, and the three of us are on the same page," I said. "She's not sure when she wants to get pregnant but understands the timeframe is sooner, not later."

"OK," Keiko said with a smile. "There are no limits yet."

"None imposed by you, anyway," I replied with a smile of my own. "What happened Friday night has caused me to re-examine what I've been doing. I decided against speaking to Miranda or Kasey, and I'll ask CeCi to be my companion on Friday evening when I go out with Jack and Kristy. My only other options, as I see it, were Deanna, who has to work, or Bianca, who'd want to bring Juliette along."

"So, just the girls in the house?" Keiko asked.

"And I'll probably see Beth, but for the time being, that's it. It just seems the best approach as you and I work towards what I think we both agree is an inevitable conclusion but which you insist should be delayed."

Keiko smiled again, "If you think I'm going to miss my wedding night, you're not nearly as intelligent as I thought you were!"

I chuckled, "I actually said something along those lines to Bianca, saying we probably had close to a year before you'd be ready to go on a honeymoon trip, given the multiple rounds of chemo you need in the next four to six months."

"I think that's about right," Keiko agreed. "And part of why I want you to wait to ask is because I want to see what happens with the next round, which is likely in mid-July."

"I understand your wishes, but I reserve the right to ask."

"Of course! Oh, I meant to tell you, my grandfather was here this morning, and he says he has all the things for the «神棚» (kamidana). He asked that you call him during the day this week at his dōjō to arrange for him to bring the things to the house and to have the Shinto priest come to the house to bless it."

"We should wait two weeks," I said. "That's when you're projected to come home, right?"

"Doctor Morrison hasn't revised that, but he said it depends on how strong I am and how my blood work looks. The other important thing is not having any kind of systemic infection, which I don't."

"OK. I'll call your grandfather, but I'll arrange for the priest to come three weeks from yesterday if that's possible. That allows for an extra seven days in the hospital, if things aren't quite right. I hope that's not the case, though."

"Me, too, obviously! My grandmother offered to come to the house during the day to help out because you and Bianca will be at work. That's OK with you, right?"

"Yes, of course," I quickly agreed. "I'll cover any costs she has, including gas."

"Which they will appreciate," Keiko replied. "Gift-giving is a very important social custom in Japan, and there are many nuances. What you don't want it to do is to appear to be a payment for her service, so the correct way to handle it is to get crisp new bills, put them in an envelope, and give them to her the first day. She will, of course, bring YOU a gift that day, and in Japanese culture, it is rude to protest that gifts are not necessary because, unlike for Americans, they actually are necessary in polite society."

"Just tell me what to do and how to do it, and I'll do my best not to be whatever that word was your mom used for me."

"My grandfather and father were very unhappy with her, and I know they've spoken to her. My dad said my mom will be polite in the future because he's positive you will be his son-in-law soon. And no, I didn't tell him. My grandfather is the one who told my dad, and he deduced it on his own just from meeting you once."

"I think it's obvious to anyone who knows us," I replied. "Nobody is going to be surprised. I do need to ask you two important questions."

"What?"

"First, what size ring do you wear?"

"Size 5," Keiko said with a smile. "And that question means you haven't bought it yet!"

"Your powers of observation for the obvious serve you well!" I chuckled. "Second question -- what kind of ring do you want?"

"Would you follow the Japanese tradition?"

"If you tell me what it is!" I replied.

"Men and women exchange simple bands, without stones, at engagement, and both wear them from that point on. There is no diamond ring or anything like that. Well, some people have adopted the Western tradition, but I like the Japanese tradition better."

"That's fine with me. Is there anything special about the bands?"

"They can be plain gold or silver or have designs. I would prefer «木目金» (mokume-gane), which is a style of folded-metal rings that are very beautiful. My grandfather can tell you the name of a jeweler in San Francisco who could procure them for us. There are many styles, and the jeweler can help you choose."

"Matching, right? I mean, except for size?"

"Yes, matching designs. I prefer ones that are two or three colors, which means they use two or three metals, but you decide."

"I'm going to guess there is a ceremony for engagement, as there appears to be for every other Japanese tradition?"

Keiko laughed, "Yes, the «結納» (yuino), which had very formal rules in the past. It's become very casual in modern times -- a small gathering where the families meet and exchange traditional gifts."

"Which means I need to speak to my grandparents, which might not go well."

"The key thing is to try."

"I will," I agreed. "What gifts?"

"I'd actually have to ask my grandmother because I don't know, and they'll probably have to be adapted for American culture because I suspect some things aren't available here without great difficulty and expense."

"OK. I'll leave that to you. I'll ask your grandfather about the rings when I call him to arrange to have the Spirit Shelf set up and the priest come to bless it, contingent on you being out of here by then. I just thought of another question."

"What's that?"

"Do you plan to teach our kids to speak Japanese?"

"Perhaps some words, but not to try to make them fluent, as I am, or reasonably so. My mom insisted, which I suspect doesn't surprise you."

"It doesn't. May I make an observation?"

"What's that?"

"The entire discussion we just had assumes the question and answer. Do you still want to wait?"

Keiko smiled, "At least until I'm out of the hospital, please."

"OK. It'll take some time to get the rings, I'm sure."

"Yes, it will," Keiko agreed. "I hate to say this, but this conversation has tired me out, and I want to nap."

"I brought some things to read," I replied. "Take your nap, and I'll be here when you wake up."

"What time do you need to be at Violet's house?" Keiko asked.

"I promised 4:00pm, so it's two hours before I have to leave here. Take your nap, please."

"Jonathan?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

LVIII. Knowing More Won't Change a Thing

June 12, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"You look stunned!" Keiko said about fifteen seconds later.

"Sorry," I replied. "You just surprised me because I didn't expect you to say that."

"I didn't expect to say it, either! It just seemed like the right thing to say. It's OK if you don't say it back right now."

I smiled, "I love you, Keiko."

"That has been obvious for weeks," she replied with a smile. "Thank you for saying it. And now I do need my nap. See you tomorrow?"

"Absolutely."

I squeezed her hand in lieu of a kiss, then left the room, feeling things with Keiko had just moved to the next level. Of course, given I intended to ask her to marry me, it was a logical progression. I left the hospital and headed to Violet's house for dinner.

During the short drive, I contemplated the changes that had occurred in my life in the two years I'd been in Chicago. Of all the things that had happened, the one that surprised me most was how things had developed with Keiko. I certainly hadn't expected to get engaged before my twenty-first birthday, but it just felt right.

The most fascinating thing for me was the way I felt about Keiko, which was different from how I had felt about anyone in the past, including Bev. Bev had always been in my life, and I liked it, but I had never needed her in my life the way I needed Keiko. That realization was what had led me, after fifteen seconds of stunned silence, to say 'I love you' back to Keiko and to mean it in a way I had never meant it before.

I had certainly said 'I love you' to other girls, including Bev and, most recently, Violet, but this was different; significantly different. Jeri had, when she had convinced me to take her to bed, given me a theory of love which was purely logical and transactional, and while her view had some merit, my feelings for Keiko did not conform to Jeri's theory.

With Keiko, it was not a 'game of give and take', as the song said, but of 'give and receive'. We each gave, and we each received, and neither of us 'took'. As I evaluated my other relationships, there were only two others I could place in that same category -- my mom, of course, and more recently, Bianca. The three relationships -- Keiko, my mom, and Bianca, were all based on partnerships in a way that Jeri's transactional theory could never explain.

Those three women, plus Jack, were the people I'd want by my side in the face of any challenge. I had other friends, but I wouldn't put them in the same category, and that included Violet, whom I dearly loved as a friend and with whom I enjoyed spending time. I wasn't sure how she'd react to my news about Keiko, but in the end, despite tentative steps toward a relationship beyond friendship, she hadn't been able to overcome the evil done to her by her parents.

I parked just around the corner from Violet's house and, having completed my analysis, was positive I was on exactly the right track. When I rang the bell, Violet opened the door, and I stepped into the house. She closed the door, then gave me the usual hug and kiss on the cheek, and we went to her front room. We had a nice afternoon and evening together, along with a delicious dinner, and when I left, I once again received the usual hug and kiss on the cheek. Twenty-five minutes later, I walked into the house.

"I just want to check to make sure you'll be here tomorrow morning," I said to Deanna when I popped my head into what Deanna called her 'loft studio'.

"Yes. You'll be here when they arrive, though, right?"

"No, actually, I can't be because I need to go in early so I can be with Keiko when she receives her test results. But everything should be OK, given I approved the plans. If they have any questions you can't answer or you aren't sure, just call me."

"What time will they arrive?"

"Around 6:30am. The utility companies marked all the lines and pipes on Friday, and I don't see any problems, so it should go smoothly."

"What time are you leaving?"

"Around 5:00am, so I can be at my desk at 5:30am and leave around 2:00pm for the hospital."

"How is Keiko? I last saw her on Wednesday before work."

"According to the doctors and nurses, her recovery from the chemo is fairly typical for someone her age, and so far, she's still on track to come home by the end of the month. Then, of course, a new cycle starts, but supposedly, it's not as bad and can be done outpatient. We'll find out more tomorrow afternoon."

"CeCi called, and she plans to be here around 1:00pm on Wednesday. I need to leave for work before then, so I arranged with Kristy to be here to give CeCi her keys."

"OK," I replied. "I think we're set, then. It's bedtime, given I'm going to have to be up at 4:30am."

We both said 'good night', and I went to my room, completed my bedtime routine, undressed, and got into bed.

June 13, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I was up early on Monday morning and in the office by 5:30am as I'd planned. Just after 6:30am, Deanna called to let me know that Brown Construction had arrived and had begun work. She relayed a reminder from Marcus that the cement steps would be removed, so the only entrance to the house would be through the front door, though the back door could be used to leave the house in an emergency. I thanked her, then returned to work.

Just after 11:00am, Bianca was ushered into the offices by Trish from Personnel. After Mr. Matheson introduced her to everyone, I sat down with her to familiarize her with the systems, and at noon, we ate lunch together in the break room.

"You went with the maximum contribution to your retirement fund, right?" I asked.

"Yes. What do I need to do for your fund?"

"Because you work for Spurgeon, you can invest in any fund through direct deposit. I have a form for you, just fill it out and turn it in to Personnel. In the blank for 'Deposit to', write in 'Cincinnatus Fund', then designate the amount. It'll come out of your paycheck before you even see it, just as the 401(k) plan does."

"What about bonuses?"

"The retained part of the bonus always goes into, or rather stays in, the Spurgeon Select Fund. That's the whole 'skin in the game' idea that every employee has money in that fund, so we have a vested interest in what we do, over and above our fiduciary duty to our clients."

"The money is just crazy," she said. "I mean, I could make $45,000 this year, and I don't even have a degree! That's like twice the median household income in the country! You'll make more than twice that without a degree! I'll most likely make a bit more than my dad, who has a degree in mechanical engineering!"

"In a sense, it's similar to the situation with athletes -- we're compensated based on the revenues we generate. And we'll pay the taxes that come along with that!"

"Let's just say you and I have different views on the validity of taxes," Bianca declared.

"Well, my token Republican friend, somebody has to pay!"

"I believe I'm in the majority here, even if I'm the lone Republican in the house!"

"True."

"That said, all of you in the house except Deanna are 'Reagan Democrats', not wild-eyed liberals. And Deanna is basically a libertarian, though leaning left, rather than right."

"I don't know much about the Libertarian Party except they seem hung up on pot, speed limits, and privatizing government services. I can get behind the first two, but the third one? I'm not sure how that could ever work."

"I haven't really spoken to anyone else at Spurgeon beyond my interviews, but how do they feel about regulations?"

"Believe it or not, they're very much for them. Everything Spurgeon does conforms to them on account of his theory of always making money for his partners, which is what keeps him in business. The regulations are nearly all about not cheating and ensuring relatively transparent markets. Cheating is always a losing proposition, and transparency helps us."

"Didn't you conclude that guy who wanted you to invest with him is cheating?"

"Bernie Madoff. No, we concluded that what he was telling us couldn't be confirmed. Mr. Matheson and I suspect he's cheating in some way, but we have no proof. The thing is, cheaters always get caught, so maybe he isn't because it would be foolish. That said, sending order flow through him is a done deal because he basically is NASDAQ."

"How long could you get away with it?"

"Depending on what you were doing, a long time if the markets didn't move the wrong way, leaving you holding the bag. You know about Ponzi schemes, right?"

"Sure. Current investors are paid with money from new investors."

"Right. Those 'work', so to speak, until you can't find new investors, then they collapse, and the most recent investors are left holding the bag. They sue or complain to the government, and the scammer is caught and punished. The thing with Madoff is that the kind of money he'd have to bring in to pay those returns and keep a Ponzi scheme afloat is mind-boggling.

"The only way it might work is to issue fake monthly statements with fake trades, where it's all on paper, and there is nothing to back it other than the cash flowing into the fund. In other words, he uses all the cash to pay gains to those who redeem their investment and fakes all the trades. Doing that, assuming he didn't have too many redemptions or could get additional investments in an emergency, might allow him to run the scam for years. But that's speculation on my part and shouldn't be repeated outside this office."

"Could he be telling the truth? I mean, the returns here regularly beat the market."

"It's possible, but his returns seem too good. Spurgeon has had poor quarters; Madoff claims never to have had one. That's what caused Mr. Matheson and Mr. Spurgeon to raise their eyebrows. As I've said, we can't prove anything, and what I proposed with regard to fake trades was the only idea I've come up with in the weeks since we finished that project. Granted, I'm not that experienced, but I do understand how the markets work and how they're regulated."

"Slightly switching topics, do you know my first assignment?"

"Yes. To develop a model that looks for the relationship between major currency prices, gold prices, interest rates, and inflation, taking into account trading volume and market velocity."

"Nothing like diving into the deep end right off the bat! A complex model using regression analysis!"

"Which will be extremely valuable," I replied. "There will be similar things for equities and fixed-income products, but for now, it's FX."

"That'll keep me busy for some time!"

"No doubt! You also get to maintain all my spreadsheets and get them into shape so that others can use them. I'm predicting personal computers on every desk by this time next year."

"I wouldn't doubt that at all."

We finished lunch, and I let Bianca know I was going to the gym. She decided to tag along and chat with Tim Anderson about developing a workout routine that approximated mine so we could work out together. After my workout, I made sure Bianca had what she needed to get started on her assignment, and when she confirmed she did, I went back to my desk and placed a call to Keiko's grandfather.

"Keiko let me know that you have everything for the Spirit Shelf," I said. "I'd like to get it all set up, please, but delay the blessing by the priest until after Keiko comes home a week from Friday."

"She mentioned that to me when I visited this morning before I came to the dōjō. Would tomorrow evening work for you? I could be at your house about 8:30pm, after our evening training session at the dōjō."

"That would be perfect. Then, once we're sure Keiko will be coming home, we can get in touch with the priest."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow evening," Ichirō said.

"I do have an important request for which I need your help."

"Yes, of course. What is it you need?"

I consulted the notes I'd made while Keiko and I had spoken.

"A pair of tri-color «mokume-gane» rings, one size 5, the other size 11. Keiko said you could direct me to a jeweler in San Francisco who could provide them."

"Absolutely!" he said, sounding very happy. "A friend from my youth is a jeweler who imports from Japan, and I am sure he will have what you need, or he can acquire it. Do you have a pen and paper?"

"I do," I replied.

He gave me the name, address, and phone number of the jeweler, which I repeated back to him.

"There are ceremonies which are normal for such events," Ichirō said.

"Keiko informed me, and we'll follow the usual traditions. I haven't formally asked her as yet."

"Well, if you're buying rings, and she suggested speaking to me about it, it would appear you've agreed, even if not formally."

"Yes. Do you have any idea how long it might take to get the rings?"

"If he has something in stock, however long it takes for Registered Mail to come from San Francisco. If he has to order them from Japan, then I would say at least a fortnight, perhaps even a month."

"That actually fits the timeline we discussed. Thank you. And I'll see you tomorrow evening."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then went back to work. At 2:00pm, I let Mia know I was leaving, then headed to the hospital to see Keiko and meet with Doctor Morrison.

"How are you feeling today?" I asked.

"A little better each day," Keiko replied. "The nurse said my progress with recovering from chemo is within the normal range, so still on target for coming home on the 24th."

"OK. I'll request that day off. I spoke to your grandfather, and he's bringing the things to our house tomorrow evening. Also, I have the contact information for the jeweler in San Francisco. I think it's best we call from here, using my calling card, so you can speak to the jeweler to describe exactly what you want. I can put a deposit on them with either my American Express Card or my Visa Card."

"I think we have enough time before Doctor Morrison comes if you want to do that now."

I nodded, then picked up the handset on the phone. I read the directions for making long-distance calls with a calling card, followed them, and the call went through and was answered on the second ring.

"Kazuya Japanese Designs! «Odenwa arigatou gozaimasu»." a male voice said.

"Good afternoon," I said. "My name is Jonathan Kane, and I'm calling from Chicago. I received a referral from Suzuki Ichirō and wish to purchase a pair of «mokume-gane» rings."

"Yes, Sir! We can certainly help you."

"Allow me to put my girlfriend, Suzuki Keiko, on the line to describe them."

"Yes, of course!"

I handed Keiko the phone and then sat quietly while she had a conversation in Japanese with the clerk, and about five minutes later, she put her hand over the mouthpiece.

"How much are you willing to spend?" she asked.

"Whatever it takes to make you happy," I replied.

She laughed softly, "A safe answer because you know I am not extravagant! The two rings, in the style I want, would be shipped from Japan, and clear customs in San Francisco. He would then ship them to us via Registered Mail. The total cost, including shipping, import duties, and other fees, would be just under $1100. There is no sales tax, as the sale is across state lines."

"Will he accept a deposit via credit card?"

"Yes. He said he would prefer your VISA card, as the fees are lower, but he will accept American Express if you prefer."

"I'm OK with VISA," I said, taking my wallet from my pocket. "How much?"

She spoke briefly in Japanese, then said, "$400 now, the remainder when he is ready to ship."

"OK. He can simply charge the rest to my card as soon as he's ready to ship the rings."

Keiko smiled, had a further brief conversation, then provided the credit card number and my full name. She gave my address, spoke briefly, then replaced the handset.

"He will send the order to Tokyo by Telex and should have an answer within twenty-four hours as to when they will ship the rings, which will go by air from Tokyo to San Francisco. He will call you to confirm once he has a proposed shipping date. He asked me to tell you that it can take a week, sometimes more, for items to clear Customs, but he will do his best to get them through as quickly as possible and ship them to you as soon as he confirms they are undamaged."

"Great!"

"I was a bit worried when he named the price, but then I remembered just how much money you made already this year and was sure it would be OK."

"So long as we're not profligate, we'll have plenty of money. And this is a once-in-a-lifetime purchase. Not to mention, I can't even imagine what a nice diamond would cost!"

"Quite a bit more, I'm sure," Keiko suggested.

"When the clerk answered the phone, he said something in Japanese. Do you have any idea what he might have said?"

"First of all, that was the owner! Second, for a business call, I'm sure that he said 'thank you for calling' which would be «お電話ありがとうございます» (Odenwa arigatou gozaimasu). If it had been informal, the typical way to answer is «もしもし» (moshi moshi)."

"Good afternoon," Doctor Morrison said, walking into the room.

I greeted him, stood up, and shook hands, and Keiko greeted him as well.

"Once again, we find ourselves in what is a middle ground -- neither the best nor the worst situation. After induction therapy, we hope to see no meaningful increase in blasts, which would be the best outcome. When we see a significant increase, that's the worst outcome. In your case, Keiko, we saw a small increase.

"That means, for the moment, we stay the course. Your recovery from chemo is within the typical range, and I expect to be able to discharge you a week from Friday, as we discussed. Your white count isn't recovering as quickly as we would like, but I'm not going to base my discharge decision solely on that.

"We'll check your blast levels once per week, and so long as they don't increase rapidly, we'll continue with the treatment plan of outpatient consolidation therapy lasting five days each time, beginning on the 18th. Your blast count at that point will determine what we do next."

"What are the possibilities?" Keiko asked.

"That the blast count is reduced, and we continue the consolidation treatments until it reaches zero or close to zero. If the blast count stays the same or continues to rise, even slightly, then a bone marrow transplant would be the best option, but I have to warn you that it's a high-risk, low-success treatment."

"Numbers?" I inquired.

Doctor Morrison shook his head, "At this point, I can't say, and the numbers I provided earlier are no longer valid."

"When you say 'high-risk, low-success', what does that mean?" Keiko asked.

"Because of what is involved, there are significant health risks, and the long-term survival rate is low. But let's not focus on that now; let's focus on your recovery and the next round of chemo. We'll do another blast count at the end of this week, as we discussed, and take it from there."

I felt he was being evasive, and that did not bode well. Given I had a reputation with him as being blunt and a straight shooter, I decided to say something.

"Doctor, please forgive how this sounds, but I feel you're being evasive. If you don't know, that's fine, but say so. If you do know, then please give us the straight scoop."

"I agree," Keiko said.

Doctor Morrison nodded and suddenly looked grim, which told me everything I needed to know before he said it.

"In cases similar to Keiko's, a bone marrow transplant is usually required. That procedure involves using total body radiation to destroy the marrow cells which cause your leukemia and then infusion of transplanted marrow cells. The first problem is finding a donor, with a twin being the best match and a sibling being the second best. Without those, we'll need to test her relatives for a match. If there isn't one, then we'll check with major hospitals and the National Marrow Donor Registry, which was established in 1979, to attempt to find a compatible donor, and that is a challenging prospect for anyone, but especially for minorities.

"Once a donor is located, we perform the radiation procedure, which in nearly one hundred percent of the cases leaves the patient unable to have children. In addition, there are numerous serious side effects, and because it is immunosuppressant, the risk of opportunistic infection is very high. The side effects can be fatal in and of themselves, as can infection. Recovery is long and difficult, and there are no guarantees."

"No children?" Keiko asked. "Ever?"

"In some cases, fertility recovers," Doctor Morrison said, "but they are rare, and we don't know how or why."

"Who can be a donor?" I asked.

"It could be anyone, but the only way to find out is through a blood test. You may have heard of bone marrow drives, and that's what it's about. It's possible there is someone who has been tested at a major cancer center who matches, but more often, there isn't. At that point, we put out a call for people to volunteer, and the families of the patients encourage as many people as possible to be tested. I can give you some material to read."

"Please tell me if I'm off base or out of line," I said, "but if you think that's the most likely outcome, doesn't it make sense to start looking now?"

"The protocol is to wait to see the results of the first round of the consolidation phase," Doctor Morrison said. "That's when we could register Keiko. Those rules are set by the National Marrow Donor Registry, and there are no shortcuts unless there's a close familial match, which, given Keiko has no siblings, is possible but not as likely as if she had a sibling. I can tell you the medical answer, though it's not going to make too much sense."

"Go ahead, please," Keiko requested.

"Blood tests are conducted to find someone with the same HLA -- human leukocyte antigen -- blood type. Matches are made based on the variability at three or more loci of the HLA gene, and a perfect match at those loci is preferred. Even if a good match exists at these critical alleles, the recipient will require immunosuppressive medications to mitigate graft-versus-host disease."

"Does being Japanese have any impact?" I asked.

Doctor Morrison nodded, "Yes, as I implied before, there is a relationship between successful matches and ethnicity."

"And there is nothing preventing Keiko's family and all her friends from being tested, is there?" I asked.

"No. Let me get you the material, and I'll be available for any questions. Please don't lose hope."

"Thank you for being honest with us, Doctor Morrison," Keiko said.

"I wish I had better news, but I'm not giving up, and neither should you. I'll have the material for you first thing in the morning. I'll see you then, Keiko."

He left, and I took Keiko's hand, and a few seconds later, she started crying.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

"For what?" I asked. "You've done nothing wrong!"

"But he said I couldn't have kids!"

"He did say that was possible, but let's focus on what we know, not on speculation. I know it's difficult, but we can get through this."

I held her hand, and after a few minutes, she stopped crying. I handed her some tissues, and she dabbed her eyes and blew her nose.

"You know what he thinks, right?" she asked quietly.

I did, and I knew that was a distinct possibility, but there was no way I was going to throw in the towel.

"I heard what he said and read between the lines," I replied. "But you and I are going to focus on the positive, and nothing has changed between us from my perspective."

"But..." she began, but her voice trailed away.

"But nothing," I replied. "Nothing Doctor Morrison said changes how I feel about you."

"How can it not?" she asked.

"If it did, what would it say about me as a man? About my character? Nothing has changed about you and me, has it? I love you, Keiko."

"Even if..." she started, then her voice dropped almost to a whisper, "I can't have children?"

"Yes."

"And if..."

"Don't focus on that possible outcome," I said. "Focus on beating the leukemia. I'll be with you every step of the way."

"You're sure?" she asked.

"Positive. No matter what happens, we're exchanging those rings when they arrive, and we're getting married."

"I want to wait until we know more..."

I shook my head, "No. Knowing more won't change a thing."

Keiko shook her head, "I can't do that to you."

"You aren't doing anything. Everything I've said to you is just as true now as it was two hours ago."

"Can we please just be together now and talk about this later in the week when we've had time to think about it?"

"Yes," I replied. "But I'm serious."

Keiko smiled, "I know. Just give me a few days, please."

"Whatever you need," I replied. "Anything. What should I say to the girls? They know you were going to hear the test results today?"

"I think, for now, just say that they confirmed the next steps, and I'll come home in two weeks and have more chemo in a month."

"OK," I replied. "May I tell one person so I have someone to talk to?"

"Bianca?"

"She's really the logical person now that Anala seemingly has no time for me."

"What happened there?"

"She met another guy from Clermont County, Ohio, who she likes better, I guess. She's spending a lot of time with him."

"I think Bianca makes sense, given your plans," Keiko said. "And you should keep those plans."

"Let's wait until you're ready to discuss us, please."

"I don't think you can, if you're going to tell her what Doctor Morrison said. She'll ask, and there needs to be an answer."

"I won't mention that specific thing until you're ready to discuss our future. And we can just sit quietly and hold hands for as long as you need."

That ended up being about thirty minutes, before Keiko asked to take a walk, which we did. She was clearly improving and feeling a little better each day. She also had more energy, and her digestive system was improving day to day. Those were all good things, but they were signs of recovery from the chemo, not signs of remission of her leukemia.

"I need a nap before dinner," Keiko said. "You don't need to stay while I sleep."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I'll stay, and I can have Jack or Bianca bring me a change of clothes for the morning."

"I'll be fine," Keiko replied. "I know you're worried, and I know you love me, but you need to take care of yourself."

"I am," I replied. "And part of taking care of myself is being with you."

"Go home, have dinner, talk with Bianca, and get plenty of sleep. Come see me tomorrow after work."

"Who are you going to talk to?" I asked.

"My grandfather," she replied. "You spoke to him today, so he already knows about the rings and what you and I are contemplating. He approves and will be supportive. When my mom finds out, she'll redouble her efforts to get me to move home, but my home is with you, not them."

"I'm not sure keeping it from them is wise," I counseled.

"But we don't know anything for sure at this point, and Doctor Morrison was obviously reluctant to speculate. He wanted to wait to see the results of the next set of tests and the first round of the consolidation phase."

"It's your decision, but I think I'd tell them. I strongly suspect your grandfather will give you the same advice."

Keiko smiled, "You two are very much alike despite age and cultural differences. I do need a nap, please."

I reluctantly agreed, squeezed her hand in lieu of a kiss, then headed home. When I arrived, I checked on the work Brown Construction had begun that morning and saw the cement steps had been removed and holes dug for the footers for the porch, plus the frame had been built for the slab for the hot tub. A portable concrete mixer stood ready, along with bags of concrete mix covered by a tarp. Confident they were making good progress, I walked around the house and went in the front door.

After greeting my housemates, I went upstairs to change out of my suit into shorts and a T-shirt, then joined Bianca, Juliette, Jack, and Kristy for dinner. I gave them an update consistent with what Keiko and I had discussed. After we finished eating, I asked Bianca to take a walk with me.

"I sense there's something you aren't telling us," she said almost as soon as we were outside.

"This is completely confidential, between me and you and not to be shared with anyone else. I trust you completely, but I need you to promise."

"Of course! I would never violate your confidence!"

"Keiko knows I'm telling you this," I said. "Everything I said at dinner was accurate, but it's not the full story. It's true that the plan is for her to come home in two weeks and begin the next round of chemo in July, but the test results were not good. Keiko's oncologist was reluctant to say anything other than they weren't the best, nor the worst, results, but the most likely outcome is that after the first round of the next phase of chemo, they'll put her on the bone marrow transplant list. When pressed, Doctor Morrison said that was a 'high-risk/low-success treatment'."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Bianca asked, taking my hand.

I took a deep breath, let it out, then said, "There is a very strong possibility that she'll die."

"I'm so sorry, Jonathan! Did the doctor give an updated five-year survival rate?"

"No. He declined to do so, even when I pressed, which tells me he believes she's going to die. And that's even with the more radical treatment, which involves using radiation to kill her marrow and then giving her a transfusion. Finding a match is hard, and made harder by the fact that she doesn't have a sibling, and that match likelihood correlates with ethnicity."

"So she'd have a better chance in Japan?"

"That is the impression I have. Doctor Morrison said he'd provide detailed material on the treatment tomorrow morning."

"What are you going to do?"

"As I said to Keiko, nothing has changed from my perspective. Before we spoke with Doctor Morrison, Keiko and I ordered engagement rings from a jeweler in San Francisco, and as I said to her, the diagnosis isn't relevant to my decision."

"OK, I know you have a strong sense of honor and duty, but if...if she's going to die..."

Bianca let her voice trail off, unable or unwilling to complete the thought.

"I simply don't see how that changes anything," I replied. "What kind of man would I be if I walked away from her at this point? Or even pulled back? I wouldn't be able to look at myself in the mirror."

"Did you ever see the movie Love Story?" Bianca asked.

"No. What's it about?"

"How early do you need to go to bed?"

"Tomorrow is a normal day, so I'll be up around 6:00am. Why?"

"It's available on VHS, and it runs for less than two hours. I saw it on TV when I was around nine or ten."

"What's it about?" I asked again.

"I think you should just see it, OK?" Bianca suggested.

By the time we walked to the video store, rented the movie, and watched it, it would be close to 10:00pm, which would allow me eight hours of sleep, which was sufficient.

"Then let's walk to the video store," I replied.

We did and found the movie in stock. The slipcase on the display gave away literally nothing, as it simply had the title and the names of the stars -- Ali MacGraw and Ryan O'Neal. I flipped the dust cover over, and most of the text was about how great the movie was, calling it one of 'the most romantic movies ever made'. The only clue was the last line, which revealed it was a 'portrayal of a young couple who cross social barriers, marry, and ultimately face the greatest crisis of all' along with the tagline, 'Love means never having to say you're sorry'.

Tape in hand, we left the store and headed back to the house. At home, Bianca asked the others for privacy, and she and I went to the basement to watch the movie on the projection TV. The movie began somewhat predictably with a developing romance, but soon enough, the reason for Bianca's insistence was revealed -- Jenny, played by Ali MacGraw, was diagnosed with some unnamed fatal disease. A hundred minutes after the movie started, it ended with Oliver walking alone to an open-air ice rink where Jenny had watched him skate the day she was hospitalized.

"My possible future?" I asked when the tape stopped.

"I just felt there were parallels."

"They never did identify the illness, but the comment about white blood cells and platelets makes me think leukemia, though the complete lack of treatment makes no sense."

"You aren't supposed to analyze the movie for medical accuracy!" Bianca protested. "That's not the point."

"Sorry," I replied. "You know my nature."

"I do. Did the story move you at all?"

"As in, did I feel sad or anything?"

"Yes."

"I felt bad for both of them for different reasons," I replied. "Jenny, because she was dying young, and Oliver because he was losing her. Beyond that, I'm not sure what to say because I'm still trying to sort out my own feelings. This is all new to me, and I can't let emotions take control. That's a surefire way to make things worse."

I got up to rewind the tape, which I'd drop in the return slot on the way to work in the morning.

"Most people would say getting engaged and married in your situation was an emotional response," Bianca said.

"I'm sure most people would, but my response isn't about emotion; it's about integrity. I mean, seriously, what kind of person would change course when someone they loved faced a challenge? I'm sure some people would say I'm acting foolishly, but I don't see it that way. What message does it send to Keiko if I suddenly say 'never mind' about engagement and marriage? Why would she ever consider marrying me in a future where she goes into remission if I reject her now?"

"I wasn't trying to say you're making a mistake," Bianca replied, "just saying what will be said."

"And you know I'm the last person on Earth to care about what other people say about how I choose to live my life. Only Deanna comes close to caring less."

"I have to ask -- what does that mean for us? If what you're implying is true, you're going to marry soon; very soon."

"I know," I replied. "I can't answer that right now because Keiko asked to defer the conversation until later in the week when she's had time to come to terms with what Doctor Morrison said."

"You don't have to answer this, but have you analyzed the possible outcomes?"

"You know I have because I don't do anything important without analyzing the situation and assessing the possible outcomes. Obviously, the one we all prefer is that the next round of chemo works as it's supposed to, and she moves into remission. In that case, things basically go as we'd discussed. The second possibility is that it doesn't, and she needs to have a bone marrow transplant, with all the attendant risks and low probability of success. One outcome leaves things largely unchanged, the other, well, we know where it ends at some unknown point in the future."

There was one point I couldn't raise, and that was the possibility that Keiko couldn't have children, but I wasn't free to say that, and didn't want to get into a discussion with Bianca about it until I had more clarity.

"What's your timeframe?"

"It will take about a month for the rings to arrive because they had to be ordered from Japan. It's my intent to formally ask her as soon as we have the rings. The way the timing works, they would arrive right around the time Keiko's next round of chemo begins."

"How does that work for us having a baby?"

"As I said to Keiko earlier, nothing has changed. If I understand menstrual math, you could be pregnant by the time the rings arrive, if we were to start trying next week."

"I think we have to, given what you've said," Bianca replied. "And hope I get pregnant right away. Things become very cloudy for you and me around the middle of next month."

"I'm sorry about that," I replied.

"You have to do what you think is right, Jonathan," Bianca replied. "And you can't be anyone other than who you are."

"No," I replied. "I can't."

LIX. The Heart of the Matter

June 14, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Tuesday morning, Jack, Bianca, and I drove to work together, though, at the end of the day, Jack would take the L or train home, as Bianca was coming with me to see Keiko. It was a relatively typical Tuesday morning, and Bianca and I ate our lunch in the small park I'd frequented during nice weather for more than a year.

When we returned to the office, there was a large envelope on my desk with Cyrillic writing and a hammer and sickle. I sat down, opened the envelope, and found a number of items -- a report on Soviet exports, a report on Soviet industry, and what appeared to be marketing material for Belarus Tractors in Brown Deer, Wisconsin. I quickly scanned the material and saw they had a repair facility in Slidell, Louisiana.

"Thinking of defecting?" Tony asked.

I chuckled, "Not a chance! That said, I think I may go visit their facility north of Milwaukee to see if I can develop a relationship with someone there and parlay that into meeting the Trade Attaché. You never know where that might lead."

"To an interview with the FBI!" Tony declared.

"Possible, but given this is my area of focus and part of my job, I have an alibi if I need one."

"You just need to meet a girl like Tatiana Romanova in From Russia With Love!"

"Complete with KGB cameramen filming the action?" Bianca interjected.

"I think I'll pass on that," I chuckled.

I set everything aside, as I had other research to do for Mr. Matheson that had priority. I didn't get to it before the end of the day, so at 5:00pm, I put the materials into my desk drawer and locked it, then waited for Bianca to save her work and shut down her computer. Once she'd done that, we left the office so we could head to the hospital to see Keiko.

"How was your first full day?" I asked as we waited for the elevator.

"I certainly have enough to do! I figure I'll spend about half my time improving the spreadsheets you created and making them applicable to all the other groups. According to Phil, he was told to order computers for all the other analysts, so having spreadsheets ready for them when they receive them is key. I'm positive there will be never-ending requests."

"For spreadsheets and programs, too," I said with a smirk. "The only surprise is you weren't hit on until this afternoon!"

"I'd tell them I prefer girls, but those pigs would take that as a challenge!"

"No doubt about it," I replied as the elevator arrived and we got in.

"I concluded we should start trying next week," Bianca said. "I looked over the materials, and the maternity leave is six weeks, which isn't ideal, but I think we can work with it."

"There are solutions to every problem," I replied. "And between us, we'll have the resources we need to overcome any challenge which presents itself with regard to a baby."

"Public school or private school?" Bianca asked.

I laughed hard.

"I think we have six years to worry about that!" I declared.

"I just meant in general."

"I'd be reluctant to send my kids to a parochial school," I replied.

"I don't know of any schools which aren't affiliated with the Catholic or Lutheran Church in some way, but I'm sure they must exist," Bianca replied. "And I agree, but that means we need to find out about the school district before you buy your next house."

"Out of curiosity, do you plan to live with Keiko and me long-term?"

"I think that makes sense, don't you?" Bianca asked. "That way, the kids are all together."

"That does make sense, though it also means we'd need to find a house that had a proper layout with large bedrooms. But again, we're talking a few years down the road. And we have no idea what's going to happen in the next year, let alone five years down the road."

The elevator reached the lobby, we exited, then took the stairs to the parking garage rather than wait for the parking elevator.

"You're assuming Keiko will make it?" Bianca asked.

"To do otherwise seems defeatist," I replied. "Until a doctor definitively tells me otherwise, I'm operating under that assumption. And, again, how would Keiko feel if I qualified every statement with 'if she survives'?"

"I want to ask a direct question, and I will not even hint at your answer to anyone, if you give it -- if Keiko receives what amounts to a terminal diagnosis, or something close to it, would you still marry her?"

"Yes," I said without a second of hesitation. "She might refuse, but I hope she won't."

We reached the car and got in, then I started the car and headed for the exit.

"Can I ask the logic of that?"

"It goes right back to what I said last night -- if I were to change how I behaved towards Keiko because of something that is absolutely not of her own doing, what kind of man would I be? Isn't the promise in the traditional vows 'in sickness and in health, until death do us part'? I may not follow Christian traditions, but I don't disagree with the principles stated by the vows."

"Another question, if I may."

"You're my main confidante," I replied. "You can ask anything, and you're the one person with whom Keiko has said I can discuss everything. You have a very different picture of her situation from everyone else because of that."

"It's clear to me that you're committed to Keiko. What happens with your other girls?"

"I think what I said to you the other day still holds -- CeCi will be my regular date on Friday nights, and I won't be intimate with anyone other than you, Deanna, or CeCi, and obviously things with Deanna and CeCi will end as soon as Keiko and I exchange rings, and you and I will continue until you get pregnant or Keiko and I tie the knot. Fundamentally, my goal is to keep everything in the house on an even keel. I can't imagine anyone objecting to ending our physical relationship once Keiko and I are formally engaged, or even sooner, if that's what Keiko wanted."

"I know you won't do it, but Deanna would happily be your mistress for the rest of your life, so long as you were a patron of her art!"

"But she also won't pitch a fit if I'm her patron without availing myself of her charms!"

"What about Juliette?"

"I think up to the time Keiko and I are formally engaged, it's up to you if Juliette joins us, but she's not getting a regular night the way you other three are. That would be supremely foolish."

"I take it Keiko agreed to CeCi back before the shit hit the fan?"

"Yes. And I also directly asked about seeing Violet regularly, and Keiko is OK with that. I was a bit concerned about how Violet would react, but I think her one attempt to push things forward was the defining moment. She hasn't even tried since that time and barely even talks about it. And that was before Keiko's diagnosis. As much as I care about Violet, and she cares about me, she can't move forward in that way."

"And Teri?"

"I am very happy I didn't sleep with her. She's unhappy about the situation but is resigned to the fact that Keiko and I will marry. She even made the point that going to bed together at this point would be futile."

"This is purely hypothetical, obviously, but if next Sunday or the following, Violet offers to go to bed with you and means it, what would you do?"

"Run away and join the circus," I replied.

"I sure as heck don't see you going to a monastery!" Bianca said with a smirk. "Expound?"

"No matter what I did in that situation, I'd badly hurt someone about whom I care deeply. I don't expect anything like that to happen, but if Violet did make that offer, I'd gently turn her down and explain how I feel about Keiko. I don't see how I could do anything else. One thing is certain, and that's if Violet were to make that offer, it would NOT be casual in any way, shape, or form."

"No, it wouldn't, and gently turning her down is probably the least bad option from a group of lousy options."

"Well, it's not going to happen, so I'm not worried."

"I think you're probably right. Are you going to want time alone with Keiko at the hospital?"

"Let's play that by ear, please. It'll depend on what Keiko wants. I suspect not, because I don't expect us to have the deep conversation about the future before tomorrow at the earliest."

"OK."

Keiko, Bianca, and I had a nice visit, and Bianca and I walked up and down the corridor with Keiko a few times. Happily, she wasn't so tired that she needed to nap right away. That was a major improvement and a sign that the blood transfusion had helped and that her body was recovering well from the chemo. Now, we just needed to get the leukemia into remission.

"Bianca, can I have two minutes with Jonathan before you go home?" Keiko requested just before her dinner was scheduled to arrive.

"I'll wait in the corridor," Bianca replied, getting up. "See you Thursday!"

Bianca left, and I moved close to the bed and took Keiko's hand.

"You were right about my grandfather insisting I tell my parents. He pointed out that I would have no choice if we did what you suggested with regard to testing my family. They're coming to visit tomorrow morning, and I'll tell them. My mom is likely to be very difficult about it, but my grandfather said he'd speak to my dad."

"In the end," I said, "you're nineteen, so it's not up to your parents what happens. And you signed the medical power of attorney documents, which Nelson says are as ironclad as any legal document can be because you signed it before you were seriously ill, and nobody can challenge your mental state."

"This is where I tease you, right?" she asked.

"By saying something along the lines of being in love with me is proof that you're crazy?"

Keiko smiled, "Yes. Doctor Morrison left some information about marrow transfusions. I read it, so you can take it with you. It's on the table there. Then we can have our talk tomorrow, OK?"

"Whenever you're ready," I replied. "Did your grandfather say anything else?"

"He's obviously very worried, but like you, he does his best to focus on the positive. As he said to me, 'Low success does not mean no success, Keiko-chan, so do not lose hope'."

"I'd say that's the perfect sentiment. See you tomorrow at about 5:15pm?"

"Yes."

I squeezed her hand, then left the room. I met Bianca in the hallway, and we headed home, where Jack and Kristy had made dinner. We ate, and Keiko's grandfather arrived as we'd agreed, carrying a wooden box with a number of items for the Spirit Shelf. He asked me to get the shelf itself from his car, which I did, and then together, we hung it in the front room, which now had a purely Japanese motif, thanks to the furniture and rug I'd bought and the art prints and curtains which Deanna had selected. Once the shelf was hung, Ichirō removed items from the box one by one and arranged them on the shelves.

"These carved wooden plaques are the names of the important ancestors, as well as the names Keiko wished to add. For you, as there is no equivalent name in Japanese, Keiko asked to have two Kanji characters which represent you, in addition to your name written phonetically in katakana, which is akin to an alphabet, though not exactly. The first Kanji character is «勇» (isamu), which means 'courage'; the second is «祐» (yu), which means 'to protect'. I felt those were fitting. When combined as «勇祐», they render the name Yuusuke."

"Thank you."

"For your mother, your uncle and aunt, and your friends in this house, their names are written in katakana. I brought a book with me that will explain the sounds each of the kana make so you know which is which."

"I appreciate that."

He next set out some beautiful porcelain bowls, which he explained were for offerings, then a small replica of the traditional gate to a Shinto shrine, which he called «鳥居» (torii), several small idols, two candle holders, a mirror in a wooden stand, two vases with artificial Japanese evergreen branches, two more for flowers, and a wooden tray for burning incense sticks. The final item was a wooden replica of a Shinto shrine. Last, he handed me a small book which showed not just katakana but also hiragana, a different phonetic system, as well as common Kanji characters.

I offered green tea, which I had made, and he accepted, and we sat at the low table.

"Keiko explained what the doctor said," Ichirō said quietly. "She will tell her parents tomorrow, and then I will arrange with her doctor, who I saw this morning, to have everyone in our family tested, as well as some Japanese friends here and in California and their families."

"That's very good," I replied. "I plan to call Loyola and see if they'd be willing to have a testing event, but that needs to wait until Keiko is on the National Marrow Donor Registry. Hopefully, that never happens because someone in the family or a close Japanese friend is a good match and willing to donate."

"I think anyone I ask will be willing to donate to save Keiko's life."

"And I will do everything in my power to achieve that result. Keiko is concerned that her mom is going to try to force her to move home, but Keiko considers this her home."

Ichirō smiled, "Yes, it is. I'll speak to my son. The «kami» will enter this house because you honor them with this room and with your devotion to Keiko-chan."

We finished our tea, and I walked Ichirō to his car. We bowed, he got in, and once he had driven away, I went back into the house.

June 15, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"How did things go with your parents?" I asked Keiko when I saw her on Wednesday evening.

"They were both upset, obviously, and my mom did insist I come to their house when I'm discharged. I said 'no', and my dad backed me up. He did say he would like to see your house..."

"Our house," I replied.

Keiko smiled, "See our house, and I said that they were welcome to visit once I'm home. How did things go with my grandfather?"

"Everything is set up, and we had tea. He explained the Kanji characters you selected to represent my name, and also gave me a book which explained the phonetic alphabet. I'm curious about the Kanji, because the book implied that for personal names, different characters can be used."

"Yes, that's true," Keiko replied, picking up a pad and writing. "This is how my name is written -- «景子» -- and the Kanji represent sunlight and then the word for female child. But you could also write it «圭子», which are the Kanji for 'blessed' and 'female child'."

"So, I could call you 'Sunny'?" I asked with a smile.

"It would fit, yes. Have you seen Magnum Force?"

"The 'Dirty Harry' movie? No. It's not out on VHS, and I would have been around ten when it was released."

"I haven't seen it, but according to my dad, there's a Japanese love interest for Harry named 'Sunny', and even though it's not said, that means her name is likely the same as mine."

"I prefer your Japanese name," I replied. "If 'kō' is the ending for girls, is 'rō' the ending for boys?"

She wrote on the pad and showed me.

"Yes! Exactly! My grandfather's name is written «郎»."

"And your family name?"

She wrote again.

"It's written «鈴木» and means 'bell tree'. It's a very common Japanese name; only Satō is more common."

"What kind of tree is that?"

Keiko laughed softly, "It's not. It's a percussion instrument with various-sized metal bowls nested together, hanging from a rod. Because they are different sizes, each nested bell has a different pitch. One was used in a song by the same name by the group America."

"So," I said with a silly smile, "You're 'Sunny Jones'!"

Keiko laughed again, "I suppose so if you want to totally Americanize me and use the second most common English surname."

"I do not! You can be my...cherry blossom!"

"Then I would have to change my name to Sakurako!"

"One thing that confuses me -- if there is a many-to-many relationship between which characters and how they're pronounced, how do you know?"

"There is no way to know for sure unless you both hear the name said and see the name written. In order to assist with this, there is something called «振ふり仮名がな» (furigana), where you put pronunciation clues in hiragana above or next to the Kanji character. I have also seen it with «ローマ字» (rōmaji), which literally means 'Roman alphabet', to aid tourists in Japan."

"Someday, I'd like to go there with you."

"The future is cloudy," Keiko said.

"But isn't that always true?" I asked.

"But more so for some than for others," Keiko countered.

"I've been thinking for some time about that," I said. "And in the end, we can only live for today, not for tomorrow. That doesn't mean we don't consider the future and develop plans and strategies, but in the end, nobody can predict what will happen. My dad is the perfect example. He got onto a plane, and an unstable guy trying to collect insurance for his family blew it up, killing everyone on board."

"He didn't know, but I know," Keiko protested quietly.

"Do you?" I asked. "You told me your grandfather said to not lose hope because 'low success does not mean no success'. And we're not even there yet. I'm not ignoring the reality, but I am saying that the future we want is possible, and we should continue to seek it until it is literally impossible to do so."

"Don't you do things at work to limit how much you might lose?"

"Yes, but you are a very different kind of investment, Keiko-chan. There is no hedging, and I'm sure you remember what I said about vows."

"I do."

"Just remember those two words!"

Keiko laughed softly, which I felt was a good sign, given how morose she had become in the previous three minutes.

"They aren't used in the Shinto ceremony," Keiko replied. "Though, as I've said, many Japanese, both here and in Japan, have adopted Western traditions around marriage."

"You and your grandfather are an interesting mix of both cultures," I replied. "You've found a way to balance the competing philosophies and find a synergy. I like it, and Eastern philosophy is more in line with my thinking than Christianity."

"If that wasn't true, we probably wouldn't be together," Keiko replied.

"I'm glad we are," I replied. "Neither of us had any idea where your request would lead, but everything about our relationship just feels right."

"Except..." Keiko sighed, leaving the thought hanging.

"In my mind, that's not material to how we feel about each other. It's simply a challenge we have to face together if we want to be together, and I most certainly do."

"But what if..." she began, but I interrupted her.

"What if you go into remission and live for seventy or eighty years and see our great-grandchildren?"

"You know that's not the probable outcome," Keiko said quietly.

"Probable does not mean definite," I replied. "And while I certainly take probability into account for decisions at work, my feelings for you do not depend on probability. You may not know it, but the vast majority of young stock traders flame out or burn out. Are your feelings for me dependent on me being a successful trader?"

"No," Keiko replied. "But isn't it different?"

"I don't think so. What I do is not who I am any more than your disease is who you are."

"You're very philosophical at times," Keiko observed. "Which is a different side of you from what most people see -- the logical, analytical financial analyst."

"Really, only you, Bianca, and Anala have experienced it in a significant way, though it does come out at other times."

"And what you think we should do -- is it logical or philosophical?"

"Both, actually. To me, there is nothing illogical about what I think we should do. I reject the idea that you should be defined by something that has happened to you."

"This might be a touchy subject, but isn't that exactly the situation with Violet? You couldn't move forward with her because of something that happened to her? And isn't there a chance she'll recover?"

I took a minute to think about it before I answered, because Keiko's question was a reasonable one.

"There are some parallels," I said carefully. "And I can't articulate the differences without some serious thought. An easy answer would be that you and I can have sex, but that answer ignores all the underlying relationship challenges Violet would face. Ultimately, she's the one who stepped back, if you will, because she simply cannot move forward. Maybe, someday, she could, but given how she backed off after some very tentative moves, I'd say it's unlikely."

"I know you object to me thinking this way, but you do realize it's possible we might never be able to do that again? That we could, if we follow your plan, never be able to consummate our marriage because of my disease?"

"This is likely to sound bad because I haven't thought it through, but there's a difference between what amounts to a physical disability and a mental one. I mean, let's be honest -- you and I could kiss and do other things, if you felt up to it, but medical advice is not to do so. That's why I'm wearing a mask now and why you wear one on your walks. But, if we were facing the worst possible outcome and you wanted to, we could, because let's face it, how could things be made worse?"

"The chemo drugs, remember?"

"Yes, of course, but Doctor Morrison said your body had metabolized the drugs, and the problem now is one of opportunistic infection, not a risk to me. And, as illogical as this might sound, it's up to me to gauge the risk to me and what to do about it, and I would take that risk for you."

"So, if I asked you to remove your mask and kiss me, would you?"

"If you judged the risk was worth it, yes, I would. I'd first wash my face with the antibacterial soap in your bathroom here because I'm not in the habit of taking risks without appropriate evaluation and consideration. I take calculated risks all the time, and in this case, the calculation has to include your emotional and mental state, not just your physical health."

"Then, when it's time for you to leave, I want a kiss, please."

"OK. Where are we?"

"The silly answer is 'in my hospital room'!"

"A true statement, but not the answer to the intent of the question I asked!"

"I honestly think we should wait until we have a more definitive answer," Keiko replied. "I know you say it doesn't matter, but I think it does. It makes no sense to get married if...if I'm going to die."

"I disagree," I replied. "As trite as it sounds, all of us are going to die, eventually. My dad was only a few years older than I am when he died in that plane crash. My mom's best friend's husband was only about a year older than I am when he died in Viet Nam. Allyson's friend Paula was the same age as I am when she was murdered. There are no guarantees, no matter what anyone hopes or expects."

"All of that is true, but...how about we take it a step at a time?"

"That is the only way to do anything," I replied. "It's more a question of timing."

"A very Jonathan-like answer!"

"I would hope so, as I'm the one who gave it! What are you thinking?"

"The rings will be here in about a month, which is about when I would have my next round of chemo. We could have the «結納» (yuino) on the 16th or 17th and then wait to see what happens with the first round of consolidation therapy to make any other decisions."

"Only as to timing," I replied. "If I ask you to marry me, and you accept, which you have said you would, then I expect to get married and not have a long engagement. I know you prefer we be able to take a honeymoon trip, but a desire for perfection has to give way to reality and practicality. And before you object, there is nothing impractical about marrying you, even in the face of a poor prognosis."

"And nothing I can say will dissuade you, will it?"

"You could say 'no' to getting engaged, but otherwise, not that I can think of."

"I couldn't hurt you that way," Keiko replied softly. "I love you."

"And I love you!"

"Can we be practical for a moment?"

"Aren't we always?" I asked.

"Usually, yes. We need to discuss you and Bianca because if we marry soon, that precludes you two from having a baby, something I agreed was OK."

"And yet, that all takes a backseat to you and me."

Keiko smiled, "I understand, but I also know one of the most important things for you is to have a biological child. We both know the most likely outcome right now is that I won't be able to have children, either from the chemo or from the radiation. I know you're OK with adopting, but I want you to fulfill your plan if possible so you and Bianca can continue until you actually conceive, no matter when you and I marry."

"That doesn't fit your definition of fidelity," I protested, though gently.

"I think my situation calls for some reassessment," Keiko replied. "That said, I'm not signing up for Bianca's harem idea!"

I chuckled, "Neither am I, believe it or not."

"I do believe it! And, as we agreed, before we're engaged, nothing changes."

"I hear you on that, but I think it does, in that there won't be any new girls. I also think I should move my relationships to platonic."

"That's up to you, of course, but I'm OK with whatever happens before we're formally engaged. I said that was OK, and I'm not going to change it because other than stating our intentions expressly, we've both known for months where we were headed."

"Are you positive?"

Keiko nodded, "Given how I met you and the circumstances surrounding our first time together, I don't feel a need to tell you to stop, or even ask you to, until we're formally engaged. I also don't think you should ask me until the rings arrive."

"I have a sense that you think I might change my mind or that I'm acting rashly."

"I think what we find out in ten days, then again in a month, ought to be considered fully, not just speculatively as we have now. I'd really rather you wait until the end of July so we know the future more clearly."

"I honestly don't believe it will make any difference, but if that's what you want, we'll do it your way."

"I just want you to be happy."

"You make me happy!"

Keiko smiled, "And you make me happy as well. What will Beth and Allyson say?"

"Nothing," I replied. "Well, they might express disappointment, but in both cases, it was simply casual."

"Which girls will be upset?"

"Teri, but she's already unhappy; Violet, in her own way; and Deanna, in her own way."

"Deanna would be happy to be your mistress forever, so long as you provided a place to live and provided patronage for her art!"

"You aren't the first one to mention that, but what really matters to her is the patronage, not the sex. She, in effect, sees that as part of the transaction, but not a necessary part."

"And Violet, because she knows it will take away time with you."

"Yes, but so long as I have time for her, she'll be fine, and you've already agreed that's OK."

"And Teri because she thinks she blew it by," Keiko smirked, "not blowing it!"

"She does think that, but she's wrong. It wouldn't have made any difference, in the end, and she'd have violated one of her core principles for nothing."

"A virgin redhead with green eyes seems like a sweet spot for most guys!"

"I will admit attraction, but I prefer black hair, brown eyes, and Japanese features to anything else! There is no competition!"

"Chinese? Indian?"

"Tied for a distant second!"

"And tall, leggy blondes?"

"Redheads come before them, but we're talking degrees, not orders of magnitude!"

"You're too funny! Speaking of leggy blondes, CeCi arrives today, right?"

"Yes. She should already be at the house. And unless she elects not to, I'll ask her to go out with Jack, Kristy, and me on Fridays until you're able to go along or we get engaged. I would have asked Bianca or Deanna, but Bianca and Juliette are a couple now, and Deanna has to work."

"A couple?"

"Exclusive with regard to girls," I replied. "They may share a guy."

Keiko laughed softly, "You? At least until we're engaged?"

"I'm not sure what they want to do. I did ask Bianca what she thought, but she wasn't sure. More importantly, I strongly suggested to Bianca she needs to discuss having a baby with me with Juliette before she gets pregnant. The other thing is less important."

"That makes sense. Shall we walk? Then you can go home for dinner."

We walked for nearly ten minutes, which was a big improvement from the end of the previous week, and when we returned to Keiko's room, I went into the bathroom, scrubbed my face with the anti-bacterial soap, then went back to Keiko's bed, where we exchanged a simple soft kiss.

"Thank you," she said. "You have no idea how much I've wanted you to do that!"

I smiled and put my mask back on lest someone enter the room and admonish us.

"See you tomorrow after work. I assume it's OK for Bianca to come along?"

"Yes. Some of the girls were here earlier this afternoon, including Deanna, who was on her way to work. Some friends from High School are stopping by after dinner."

"We all care about you," I said. "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow."

I left the room, walked out to my car, and then headed home. As would be necessary for about ten more days, I had to walk around to the front of the house to go inside.

"Jonathan?" I heard Bianca call out. "Dinner in ten minutes!"

I walked to the kitchen, acknowledged her, then went upstairs to change, meeting CeCi in the hallway.

"Hi!" she exclaimed.

"Hi!" I replied. "All moved in?"

"I didn't have too much stuff," she replied. "It's all unpacked."

"Cool. I need to change, but you could come along so we can chat before dinner."

"Sure," she agreed.

We went into my room, and I shut the door to give us a bit of privacy.

"I assumed Deanna filled you in on Keiko's condition?" I asked as I began changing.

"It's so sad! How is she?"

"She's recovering from the chemo and should come home a week from Friday. She'll have her next round of chemo starting the 18th of July."

"Deanna didn't know Keiko's prognosis."

"It's complicated," I replied. "And the doctor is unwilling to speculate further until after the next round of chemo."

"This might be out of line, but do you still have enough freedom to fulfill my request?"

"For the time being, yes, and I was going to ask you if you'd like to be my regular date for the next few months for my regular Friday evenings with Jack and Kristy?"

"Sure! Though I have my interview at Venice Café tomorrow, so I might end up working Friday evenings."

"Understood. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Do you have alternatives?"

"Yes. Deanna's friend Sophie got me an interview at Ed Debevic's, and I'm sure there are plenty of waitressing jobs available in Chicago if neither of those two works out."

"Good."

"If you have the freedom, I'd like to spend the night with you tonight. It's been ten weeks, and I'm climbing the walls!"

"No opportunities in Cincinnati?"

"In Cincinnati, I'm a good girl! In Chicago, I'm a bad girl!"

I laughed, "Interesting. Wednesdays are Deanna's usual night."

"She won't be home until around 10:30pm, so she can have you then!"

I was finished dressing, so I acknowledged her and then suggested we go down to dinner, which we did. We ate, I helped Jack clean up the kitchen, then asked Bianca to take a walk with me so we could speak privately and without any interruptions.

"How did it go?" Bianca asked as soon as we were away from the house.

"Keiko is reluctant to agree to marry me if she receives a poor prognosis."

"I'm not sure how to respond to that because I know how you feel about it, but does it make sense to go through all the legal stuff that would entail?"

"I can't let something like that be the determining factor," I replied. "I mean, I understand what you're saying, but I'll deal with it. All that matters is the time I have with Keiko, however long it is, be it a day, a week, a month, a year, or my lifetime. That said, there are some other considerations, including you and me."

"Uh-oh," Bianca said nervously.

"Actually, the opposite of what you're thinking," I said. "Keiko lifted the time limit. You and I may attempt to make a baby until we actually succeed, even if that's after Keiko and I marry."

"Whoa! That's a huge concession. Why?"

"Because, and this needs to stay between you and me, one of the potential side effects of cancer treatment is the potential inability to conceive."

"Oh, shit," Bianca said quietly.

"Yeah. That does not change my determination to marry Keiko, and if that happens, we'll adopt, but she knows having a biological kid is important to me. It's not an overriding thing, and if push came to shove, I'd let that go, but Keiko thinks it's important enough to me to allow what would otherwise be intolerable. But we have to be fastidious about not using it as license to do whatever we want whenever we want."

"Obviously. Did she pull the reins back otherwise?"

"No, but I have. I'm going to stick to just the girls in the house and have CeCi go out with me on Fridays. No new girls, no baseball games or parties, and no more casual overnights with Allyson or Beth."

"Esme and Katy are going to be very disappointed."

"They'll live," I chuckled. "Along about September, they'll be running amok together at Princeton."

"When do you plan to ask Keiko? I mean, officially?"

"If it's up to me, as soon as the rings arrive; if it's up to Keiko, the end of July after her next round of chemo."

"Do you think she'll make it?" Bianca asked quietly.

"Which answer do you want?" I replied.

"An honest one."

"I don't know what will happen; in fact, nobody does. That said, I acknowledge that it's possible, maybe even probable, that she'll die. At this point, nothing is determined, and I choose to believe she'll beat the cancer and we'll have a long life together. As her grandfather said, in effect, a small chance is not no chance, so we shouldn't lose hope."

"Is she going to need anything special in the house?"

"I honestly don't know. We'll discuss that next week. Her grandmother will come stay with her at least part of the time, mostly during the day. A lot will depend on what Keiko needs and how she's feeling. Right now, she's improving, but as Doctor Morrison has said, there can be relapses because her systems are so messed up from the combination of the chemo and leukemia. I'm considering taking my two weeks starting July 17th, so I can take her to and from the outpatient chemo center and stay with her."

"What about Saint Martin?"

"That'll be our honeymoon, if we can take one. That will depend on Keiko's health and might not be for a year after we marry, depending on the length of the consolidation and maintenance phases of chemo. And if she has to go through a marrow transplant, it could be even longer. Her grandfather is coördinating with Doctor Morrison to have their whole family and Japanese friends tested, as that's where we'd be most likely to find a match for Keiko. There's some very specific set of matches that go beyond simple blood type that are necessary, but it's complex blood chemistry, and I'm way out of my depth there."

"How are you holding up?"

"I'm doing OK," I replied. "But you know I'm not going to allow emotions to interfere with my decisions."

"That wouldn't be you, but you can't bottle them up; that's a recipe for trouble. How do you feel...I don't even know what word to use, because 'spiritually' doesn't work, and you tend to be so even-keeled that emotionally doesn't fit, either. The thing is, it's not purely intellectual, either."

"I could allow the word 'spiritually' so long as you don't mean it theistically. Rejecting the idea of a personal god in charge of the universe does not mean rejecting the idea that we are, in some ways, more than the sum of our parts. I wouldn't agree to call it a 'soul' or an 'eternal spirit', but the idea of «kami» or 'life force' has some possibilities, so long as it's not taken the way Catholics and others understand saints or angels or demons or whatever."

"You're a Buddhist, even if you don't know it," Bianca observed. "Or at least close."

"Keiko suggested that I have quite a bit in common with her grandfather, and I can see it. And of the men I've met so far, he's the one I'd choose as a role model."

"Not Noel Spurgeon?"

"Oh, hell no!" I chuckled. "I wouldn't base my life philosophy on ANY Spurgeon employee, or my uncle for that matter. I like Ichirō's approach to life. That said, karate holds no particular interest for me, so on that topic, we diverge. The gym is more my speed, and there is literally no philosophical meaning behind it, and I don't have to worry about conforming to some particular ethical system."

"I don't think I have anything more to offer at the moment. Remember, I'm here anytime you need to talk."

"Thanks. I really appreciate it."

LX. Two Words Will Prove It

June 15, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Something is bothering you," Bianca observed as we approached the house during our walk on Wednesday evening.

"Is it that obvious?" I asked.

"To me, anyway."

"Am I doing the right thing?"

"You mean getting engaged to Keiko?"

"No, I'm positive that is the right thing; I meant with continuing to sleep with girls besides you?"

"Is that something Keiko asked you to stop doing?"

"No. Well, not before we are formally engaged."

"And she's aware?"

"Yes."

"Then what's the problem?" Bianca asked as we continued past the house rather than turning onto the walk.

"Don't you think I committed to her by ordering the rings and saying I wanted to get engaged?"

"You obviously do, and your belief in strict monogamy is messing with your head and your heart. May I point out a clear contradiction?"

"That I've known Keiko is the right one for months and continued to fool around with other girls? The difference is, I expressed my feelings to Keiko, and she agreed."

"Don't you think she knew before? And she didn't object?"

"But was that because she's OK with it? Or was it because she felt it was the only way to achieve her goal? And now she expects me to stop, even though she's said it's OK?"

"¡Qué güey!" Bianca exclaimed mirthfully.

"You never use Spanish with me! What's that one?"

"More or less 'Dude!' or 'What a guy!' or something similar. Seriously, don't you think Keiko knows you pretty well?"

"Yes, of course."

"And that you pride yourself on speaking plainly and doing what you say you're going to do?"

"Yes."

"And she's just as direct as you are, right?"

"She is."

"Then don't you think she would assume you would take her at her word and not try to read extra meaning into what she said?"

"I just don't want to mess this up," I said with a sigh.

"As I don't have a dog in this hunt, given you aren't talking about not sleeping with me, all I can say is that if you feel guilty, don't do it."

"I don't think I feel guilty so much as concerned that I'm somehow taking advantage of her."

"Actually," Bianca replied, "quite the opposite! Had she not had her diagnosis, your timeframe was a year or two or about the time she was a Senior or even graduated. Moving it up is hardly taking advantage. Honest answer, please -- did you change your behavior in any way that you might reasonably say is not in Keiko's best interest?"

"I don't think so," I replied.

"You refused Ellie's insane plan, and yes, it was insane. You also rejected Teri's advances, and you're ending things with everyone except Deanna and CeCi, right? Well, and me, but that's a different thing, as we've said. I guess what I'm saying is that so long as you aren't breaking your word to Keiko as she understands it, and she's fully aware of what's going on, I don't see how you're hurting her or taking advantage of her. But, all that said, in the end, it's up to you to do what you think is right and best for your relationship."

"Do you think I'm making a mistake?"

"About which thing? Monogamous marriage? Changing your timeline? Choosing to marry Keiko even though she might not be cured? Or having sex with anyone but her until the ring is actually on her finger?"

"Yes," I replied as we turned back towards home.

Bianca laughed, "Only you can answer those questions. What I think doesn't really matter because you have to do what you believe to be right. That said, I have not seen you be indecisive, nor have I seen you second guess yourself, except about your decision not to tell Bev about your plan to come to Chicago until after it was a fait accompli. Sure, you've hedged your bets at times, but hedging your bets is your job!

"That's what Teri has been, and to some extent, so was giving Violet a chance to have more counseling before making a decision. And it was working, but you felt, for whatever reason, that Keiko's diagnosis forced your hand. And I don't mean that in a negative way, only that it caused you to act sooner than you had intended, though I'm positive you were on the trajectory to marry Keiko almost from the first night you were with her."

"I understand I'm the only one who can answer, but I value your opinion and advice."

"You know my opinion and chose not to follow my advice. That's perfectly OK because, in the end, you have to do what makes you happy, not what makes me happy. Or Keiko. Or anyone else. That said, you found a solution that makes Keiko very happy and makes me content; well, more than that because we're going to have a baby together. The only negative for me is I don't get to sleep with you for the rest of my life. I think the only question is whether or not you're happy."

"Other than with Keiko's health, yes, I am."

"Then be the Jonathan I know and love, who always keeps his word. I don't think you can go wrong by doing that. Being with Deanna and CeCi doesn't violate your word, and being with me keeps it both to me and to Keiko."

I nodded in acknowledgment, and we walked the final block in silence as I contemplated what would be the right thing to do. I was positive that I'd communicated clearly with Keiko, and I believed she was being completely forthright, as she'd pointed out several times how we'd first been together. What I was intending to do wasn't wrong, but was it right?

That was an interesting thought because it posed the question of whether my utilitarian approach to life -- wanting to maximize my happiness but not at the expense of others -- was correct. If it was, then I felt I could basically 'keep on keeping on', as the saying went. If not, I had a significant challenge -- deciding what standard to apply to determine the best course of action.

I followed no specific moral system, and my ethical system consisted of three basic principles -- be honest, be direct, and keep your word. I could also add 'obey the law', but that wasn't so much a principle as a necessity and was also a direct result of the concept of maximizing happiness -- time in prison would absolutely not make me happy, nor would losing my securities licenses.

One thing was certain, and that was that I was not going to accept any external moral system as a basis for making decisions about my life. Each and every one of them, religious or secular, right or left, seemed to be about control and imposing the will of the leadership on those who adhered to a specific ideology. I had personal experience with members of the Roman Catholic Church, had heard plenty about the 'Moral Majority', a label I found laughable on several counts, and knew enough about Communism to reject it out of hand.

All that analysis left me with the question -- would what I was doing or wanted to do make me happy? If so, and it was not at the expense of others, there was no reason not to do it. I had been honest with Keiko, had her agreement, and wasn't taking advantage of Deanna, CeCi, or Bianca. Quite the contrary -- they were all happy and had voiced no objections, though I knew Bianca and Deanna would prefer a different long-term arrangement.

I could do that, of course, but I was absolutely positive that the way to achieve maximum happiness was to marry Keiko and, nature willing, have kids and live together as husband and wife to see our grandkids and great-grandkids. If nature was not willing, then we'd have as much time together as Keiko's circumstance would allow.

"Did you decide what to do?" Bianca asked as I reached for the doorknob.

"Yes," I replied.

I opened the door, and we went in, noting Bianca rolling her eyes and shaking her head at my non-answer answer. The answer became obvious when I walked into the great room and asked CeCi to come upstairs with me.

"What can I do for you?" I asked CeCi once we were in my room with the door closed.

"I want you to fuck my brains out!" she exclaimed hungrily.

"I'll do my best!"

June 16, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

When my alarm rang on Thursday morning, CeCi went to her room to go back to sleep while I got up to get ready for work. Surprisingly, Deanna hadn't joined us when she'd come home from work, but that had been her choice. When I finished dressing, I went downstairs and had breakfast with Jack and Bianca, then the three of us headed out to my car for the drive to the Hancock Center.

It was a busy day at work, and I spent some time with Bianca, providing answers to questions as she revised and reworked the spreadsheets I'd created. We had lunch together in the park, and after lunch, I put in my request for my two-week leave, starting July 18th. About an hour after I'd turned in the form to Anna, Mr. Matheson called me in.

"Your time off is approved. I'll notify Compliance. Heading to Saint Martin?"

I shook my head, "No. Keiko is having her next round of chemo the week of July 18th. It's outpatient, and I want to spend the time with her. I'll request some time in Saint Martin next year."

"How is she doing?"

"Recovering from the first round of chemo. She'll come home a week from tomorrow, but everything depends on the results of the next round of chemo."

"Prognosis?"

"The doctor was reluctant to provide one because Keiko is in the middle ground where they can't predict one way or the other. It was about 50/50 before, and I'd say somewhat less now, but they aren't saying."

"I know you're a straight shooter, so I'll just say this -- when they refuse to give you a prognosis, it usually means the worst."

I nodded, "I know. As her grandfather said, 'a small chance is not no chance', and I agree. All we can do is stay the course and see where it leads us."

"Bone marrow transplant?"

"That would be the next treatment if the chemo isn't successful."

"Noel Spurgeon knows some experts at Mayo," Mr. Matheson said. "His mom is a breast cancer survivor, and they sent her to Mayo."

"From the basic research I've done, Doctor Morrison is following the standard protocol, and Keiko isn't sick enough to qualify for experimental drugs, of which, at the moment, there aren't any, even if she did qualify. He offered us a consultation from another oncologist if we wanted, but both Keiko and I trust him, and as I said, my research shows, at least to someone with no medical training, that he's doing the right thing."

"Let me know if you want me to ask," he said. "Changing topics, how is Pérez doing?"

"She's making good progress, and she'll have the spreadsheets ready when Phil and his team set up the computers he's ordered on all the analyst desks. As for the new programs, that's a longer term project, and I have no way to independently gauge her progress. According to her, she'll have something rudimentary to show us by the middle of next month."

"OK. You know more about it than I do, and I think you know more about it than Phil because you understand trading in ways he never will. Just keep me posted."

"I'll add a section to my morning analyst report that tracks the status."

"Thanks. Go make me some money!"

I left his office, went back to my desk, and returned to my analysis of Soviet trade with the US and Europe, and wondered what a post-Soviet world might look like. The fear, of course, was that a post-Soviet world would be a nuclear holocaust, but I felt, in the end, cooler heads would prevail. I honestly didn't believe the Communist Party of the Soviet Union would destroy the world to prevent losing power, but that was possible.

I only spent an hour on that project, as currency exchange rates, interest rates, and actions of Central Banks were far more important to the FX desk in the short term than anything I might learn about the Soviet Union.

At the end of the day, Bianca and I left the office together and headed to the hospital to see Keiko, who had received a blood transfusion, likely her final one, before being released. She was in reasonably good spirits, though we both were aware of the proverbial sword hanging above her head.

"Still on track to come home in a week?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied. "As Doctor Morrison said, the hospital is no place for a sick person!"

"You've lost me."

"The chances of an opportunistic infection are higher here because I'm basically surrounded by sick people, and so many people come in and out of the hospital. Except for a completely sterile room where nobody ever entered, it's actually less risky to be in my room or in the house than it is to be here."

"That sounds weird," I replied, "but it does make sense. Are there any special precautions we need to take at home?"

"Doctor Morrison strongly suggested I wear a mask if anyone is in the room and use Lysol spray regularly to kill any germs. He also gave me a brochure for an air cleaner that uses ultraviolet light to kill germs in the air."

"If you give that to me, I'll buy two and have one in your room and one in the front room when you come home."

"It's on the table there. They aren't cheap, but he said they do work very well. They make units that work with forced hot air heat, but we have forced hot water, so that wouldn't apply."

"What about air conditioning?" I asked.

"The brochure has a unit that works with both heating and cooling."

"I'll look into that," I replied. "Anything we can do to keep you healthy."

"Jonathan, we should do a thorough top-to-bottom house cleaning," Bianca said. "If everyone pitches in, we can easily do it before next Friday. Basically, drown everything in Lysol."

I nodded my agreement.

"Anything else, Keiko?"

"Not until it's time for the next round of chemo. Doctor Morrison will go over the details for that during my checkup the Friday before. I scheduled it in the late afternoon so you could be there."

"I appreciate that. Has he said anything more?"

"No. Just that he's happy with my recovery from the chemo, though obviously, that's not the real concern."

"All we can do is take things one day at a time and one step at a time," I replied. "I see it as a positive sign because not recovering well from chemo would certainly be far worse."

"The power of positive thinking?" Bianca asked.

"It sure as heck beats focusing on the negatives, don't you think?" I asked.

"Absolutely," Bianca agreed. "Keiko, is there anything you need?"

"No, I have my books, I can take longer walks, and I have other visitors, too, including friends from High School I haven't seen since I started at Loyola."

We ended up spending about an hour with Keiko, and as I had the previous day, I scrubbed my face with the antibacterial soap so I could give her a quick kiss. Keiko smiled, Bianca touched her arm in lieu of a hug, and then Bianca and I left the room.

"Wasn't that risky?" she asked as we removed our masks in the hallway.

"It introduces a slightly higher risk, but Keiko deemed it was worth it, and I can't disagree. In her situation, I think I'd make the same choice. She's been in that bed or the chair in her room, except for walks and the bathroom, for nearly a month. She hasn't had a single hug the entire time. That little bit of intimate contact goes a long way to raise her spirits, and frankly, I'll take any little advantage we can find if it helps her recovery."

"As in, the love you express outweighs what you feel is a tiny risk of infection?"

"I've read, in several places, that the patient's mood and attitude have a major impact on healing and recovery, and it makes sense. Compare it to fighting versus surrendering. Maybe, and I obviously hope this isn't the case, there comes a time when fighting is no longer rational. Until then, you fight like hell using every weapon at your disposal. I might argue for pacifism with regard to international relations, but there is no negotiating with cancer."

"You are nothing if not consistent in your approach to life."

"I try my best, and that was a major part of the question I asked myself last night -- was being consistent with my values the right approach, or should I reëvaluate my values. In the end, given what I believe, or perhaps don't believe, I don't think there is a better system than being honest, being direct, and keeping my word, with actions beyond those depending on whether they make me happy, though not at the expense of someone else."

"You're a good guy and a stalwart friend," Bianca said. "You seem to automatically create loyalty in everyone around you."

"It's reciprocal," I replied, "and it has to be. Why be loyal to someone who isn't loyal to you?"

"That's going to be what ultimately causes you to break with Spurgeon Capital -- at some point, they'll betray your trust or behave in a way you find unethical. Well, beyond the bullshit with the female staff."

"Other people's consensual relationships are none of my business. You and Anna are showing that you can work there without agreeing to that particular condition of employment, which is actually an improvement over how things were when I started."

"Oh?"

"A secretary was fired because, as she told it, she wouldn't sleep with her boss. As far as I'm aware, that hasn't happened since, and, as I said, you and Anna show that at least that much has changed. Honestly, the bigger concern is the rumors about Noel Spurgeon and underage girls. To me, so long as everyone consents, I don't care. The government, on the other hand, does, and that could wreck the firm. Given his wealth, he could find all the seventeen-year-olds he wanted without risking arrest and prison. If the rumors are true, he's taking stupid chances, and he'll eventually be caught."

"That would be ugly. He is Spurgeon Capital."

"And no male heir. I seriously doubt he'd let the Pipsqueak take over."

"Who?"

"That's what Mr. Nelson calls Noel Spurgeon's daughter, Samantha. You haven't seen her, but she's seven-and-a-half going on twenty-eight."

"And he's sexist enough to not allow her to follow in his footsteps?"

"You've seen Spurgeon! Other than Mrs. Peterson in Personnel, you're the highest-ranking female employee!"

"Just stupid!"

"I agree, and hopefully, your success will lead to changes in that regard. You're also the only professional-level Hispanic, and there are no blacks anywhere in the firm."

"That's even more fucked-up!"

"I agree. Same as the Chicago City Council."

We reached the car, got in, and I pulled out of the parking spot to head home.

"Do you always back into parking spots?"

I chuckled, "Yes. Bev's dad called it 'parking like a man'!"

"Give me a break! Why?"

"The skill necessary to back into a parking spot is difficult for girls to master, at least in his mind. Bev proved that decisively on several occasions! I do it because it's safer when you're trying to pull out of the parking stall at the mall or in a parking garage."

"What did she do?"

"In six months, she backed into things at least three times of which I'm aware. She also had trouble parallel parking."

"You, on the other hand, are used to getting into very tight spaces, so it came naturally!"

I laughed, "I learned to drive before I had sex for the first time!"

"And Bev?"

"She started Driver's Ed two months after her sixteenth birthday because her birthday is in June, and her sixteenth birthday was the day."

"And she didn't get pregnant despite you two not using birth control, right?"

"Correct. We were lucky, and then she was unlucky because she was on the Pill when she and Glen were together."

"It does happen, even if you take it perfectly," Bianca replied. "It's something like three in every thousand over the course of taking the Pill, but that includes girls who missed a dose and forgot they missed, or whatever. I'm religious about it!"

"That's about the only thing!"

"True! I take it that it's OK to spend the night?"

"It is. Have you spoken to Juliette?"

"Yes. She's cool with it, though she's singularly uninterested in being pregnant any time soon!"

"A sentiment found amongst most High School and college girls, and with good reason!"

"Are you still going to see Teri on Saturday?"

"Yes. Teri knows the score but wants to keep our Saturday dates until she leaves for UofI in about eight weeks."

"She's obviously hoping you'll change your mind about Keiko. Why are you seeing her?"

"That's a very good question for which I don't think I have a good answer beyond I enjoy spending time with her."

"Do you think you might be subconsciously hedging your bets, so to speak?"

"Maybe," I replied. "But if that's the case, it's absolutely subconscious because I want Keiko to go into remission and then be declared cured in five years. I want to marry her and have kids with her. I know, deep down, it's the right thing to do, but I also acknowledge it might not be possible through no fault of hers or mine. But I'm not thinking about or planning for a future without her."

"You're handling this well, and I'm not surprised you have both a clarity of purpose and, at the same time, are also confused. Which is what I detected last night when I asked what was bugging you."

"I'd say that's accurate," I agreed.

When we arrived home, I went up to change, then went to the kitchen to help Kristy finish preparing dinner. When everything was ready, all my housemates except Deanna, who was working, joined us to eat.

"I was offered an 11:00am to 5:00pm shift at Venice after my interview," CeCi announced. "I'm going to take it. It's six days a week, with Sunday off, and I start on Monday."

"That was fast!" Juliette declared.

"Deanna had prepped them, so it was basically a done deal, so long as I didn't totally blow the interview. And honestly, if you have half a brain, how hard would it be to pass an interview for a waitress job? I'm not denigrating the job, but it's not like they're asking you to solve calculus problems, describe a chemical process, or explain a balance sheet."

"You need excellent interpersonal skills," Bianca declared. "I'm not sure I could deal with restaurant patrons full-time! At some point, I'd go off on them for being too much of a pain in the ass!"

"That's because you do not deal well with morons!" Juliette declared.

"And I make NO apologies for that!" Bianca declared. "Zero!"

"You put up with me," I chuckled. "So there is that!"

"That's a totally different thing!" Bianca protested. "The last thing anyone would call you is a moron!"

The phone rang, and I excused myself to answer it.

"Kane!" I said into the handset.

"Mr. Kane, this is Kazuya Kenji from Kazuya Japanese Designs."

"Good afternoon, Kazuya-san," I replied, hoping I was using the correct honorific.

"I received confirmation a few moments ago from Tokyo that your rings will be shipped to me on Tuesday of next week. They will come by air freight and then must clear Customs. I expect them to clear by the end of the following week, and then I will send them via Registered Mail to your address."

"Thank you very much! If I understand correctly, I will have to sign for the rings."

"Yes. The Post Office will not release them without your personal signature."

Which would be somewhat inconvenient, but I understood why it was necessary.

"OK. As discussed, please charge the balance to my credit card when you ship the rings."

"I will do so! Thank you for your business, Kane-san! I will call again when I have turned the rings over to the Post Office for delivery."

"Thank you," I replied.

"You're welcome! Please keep us in mind in the future, and please refer friends and colleagues to us!"

"I will. Have a good afternoon."

"And you!"

We said 'goodbye', and I replaced the handset and went back to the dining room table.

"The rings are shipping from Tokyo on Tuesday," I said. "I should have them in about three weeks, give or take, depending on how long it takes for them to clear Customs in San Francisco."

"Tokyo?" CeCi asked.

"Keiko wanted traditional Japanese rings, so we ordered them through a friend of her grandfather's who owns a jewelry store in San Francisco."

"When are you popping the question?" Juliette asked.

"Sometime towards the end of July," I replied.

"What about an engagement ring?"

"Those are engagement rings. For Japanese who follow the older tradition, they're matching his and hers rings and can be exchanged at any time. Many Japanese follow the Western tradition now, but Keiko prefers the older one. I'm OK either way, and this way saves me having to buy a stone from the diamond cartel!"

"That is a hell of a racket," Jack said, shaking his head. "Fortunately, Kristy isn't into gaudy rings like some I've seen on the wives of Suits!"

"Compensation," Bianca smirked. "Like a Corvette or a Rolex! Jonathan does not need any of those things!"

"TOO MUCH INFORMATION!" Jack declared, causing the girls to all laugh.

"Right there with you, Bro," I chuckled.

"I have zero complaints," Kristy interjected, leaning over to give Jack a kiss on the cheek.

We finished dinner, and Bianca and Juliette volunteered to wash dishes, so the rest of us went to hang out in the great room. Bianca and Juliette joined us, we watched some TV, and then the local news, before Bianca and I went up to my room.

"No Juliette?" I asked.

"She'll join us if you want, but I thought you'd prefer just to be with me after your struggle last night."

"I just don't want you to mess up your relationship with Juliette. So long as this isn't causing a problem, I'm OK either way."

"For tonight, just you and me. We can practice the loving, gentle technique for our baby-making attempts. I hope you agree that those should be lovemaking sessions, not fucking."

"You want them to be tender, not athletic."

"Yes," Bianca replied. "The point isn't orgasms, though I'll never object to those!"

"No right-thinking person would!"

"Then let's get ready for bed, and you can make love to me before we fall asleep."

"Your wish is my command!"

June 17, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"How was your day?" Keiko asked when I arrived at the hospital mid-afternoon on Friday.

"Productive," I replied. "I ordered two of the ultraviolet purifiers as I planned, and someone from a local distributor is coming out tomorrow to give us an estimate on a whole-house UV system for the A/C. The UV units will be here by Thursday of next week."

"That's going to be expensive, I'm sure."

"Compared to the value of your health? Not even close. I have news -- Kazuya-san called to say that the rings would ship from Tokyo on Tuesday. He expects to ship them to us by the end of the following week."

"That's great! I forgot to ask, how is the construction going?"

"Good. They poured the footers for the deck and the slab for the hot tub. The four-by-four supports were set into the footers, obviously. The plumbing and electric for the hot tub are in as well. They were supposed to start building the deck today. The fire pit will be built on Monday, and the hot tub will be installed on Tuesday. That's the last thing they need to do. When do you think you'd be able to use it?"

"I'll have to ask Doctor Morrison because of the risk of opportunistic infection. You don't have to wait for me to use it."

"We put it in for you," I replied.

"I know, and I love you for doing that, along with a whole bunch of other reasons, but I mean it, Jonathan. It's OK. Use the hot tub, please."

"I want to hear from Doctor Morrison first, if that's OK."

"Yes, of course. You're doing so much for me, Jonathan; there's no way I could ever say how much I appreciate it."

"You just did. And you only need to say two words to prove it."

Keiko smiled, "Those words aren't used in a Shinto ceremony."

"Tell me about a Shinto wedding, please."

"It's called a «神前結婚» (Shinzen kekkon), which means 'Marriage before the kami'. You wear a formal kimono, and I wear a wedding kimono..."

"Men wear kimonos?" I asked, interrupting her.

Keiko laughed softly, "Yes, but I suspect you've only seen the ones worn by girls and women. Men's kimono are like a skirt with a coat. Wedding kimono come in two styles. One, the «白無垢» (shiromuku), is pure white. The other one, a «打ち掛け» (uchikake), which is the one I prefer, is colorful."

"Why do you use the singular instead of the plural?"

"In Japanese, «着物» (kimono) is both singular and plural, and literally means 'something to wear'. Anyway, the ceremony takes less than thirty minutes and involves sharing saké, which is Japanese rice wine, which is the core of the ceremony. After that, the man recites his vows, then the woman recites hers. After the vows, both families join in drinking a toast with saké. The priest then offers evergreen branches at the altar, the bride and groom make a similar offering, and finally, the families make one. After that, rings are exchanged if they haven't already been."

"That sounds fairly simple."

"It is."

"Where do we get kimonos...I mean, kimono?"

"In English, it's usually plural, and nobody would look at you strangely for saying that. I believe the same shop in San Francisco can obtain used kimono for us. New ones would be prohibitively expensive, and it would be silly."

"Out of curiosity..."

"A new kimono, made by an artisan, could cost as much as $20,000. Each."

"Whoa!" I gasped. "And used ones?"

"No more than a few hundred dollars total. They're typically mass-produced and used only once, then sent to second-hand shops. The more expensive ones are often purchased, then handed down through extended families, used by mothers, daughters, and granddaughters."

"Do your parents have them?"

"No. My mom and dad married in Japan, at a proper Shinto shrine, and used her mother's, but it was saved to use for her sister and my cousin. My grandparents have semi-formal kimono, which are much less expensive."

"How do we go about finding ones that will fit properly?"

"We get the clothes, and my grandmother can alter them. She can take measurements at the house when she's there the week after next. If we get used ones, which we should, I'll probably go with traditional white because colorful ones tend not to be available, according to my grandmother."

"OK. Anything else?"

"No, it's really a simple ceremony. After the ceremony, we'd have a Western-style reception."

"Where would you like to go on our honeymoon?"

"Japan?" she asked with a smile. "But obviously, it could be a long time before we could go."

"What about Saint Martin? We'd go in a private jet and stay in a private house? We save the trip to Japan for when you're able to make what amounts to a twenty-hour trip, including changing planes in LA or San Francisco?"

"We'll have to ask Doctor Morrison. But if you take two weeks in July, would you be able to take more time?"

"I'd have another five days, so Saint Martin would work, if we can do that. Otherwise, we find a place in Wisconsin or Michigan that's within three or four hours of Chicago by car. And if you aren't healthy enough to travel at all, that's fine, too."

"And if we can't have a wedding night?"

"Even if we only cuddle, knowing that I'm married to you will make me very happy."

"But..." Keiko started to protest, but I touched her arm.

"I love you, Keiko-chan. That's all that matters."

She smiled, took my hand, and squeezed it.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Pizza and then seeing Octopussy, the James Bond movie."

"You're taking CeCi?"

"Yes, unless you've changed your mind about that."

"No, I haven't. Are you planning to see Teri tomorrow?"

"We did have plans, but I'm not sure I should keep them at this point. Bianca asked last night, and I said I was going to, but the more I think about it, there isn't really a point."

"If things went badly, would she be the one you choose?"

"It's not like that in my mind," I replied. "First of all, I'm focused on you beating your leukemia. Second, the only reason I'm contemplating marriage now is because I love you, not because of your leukemia. We both knew what we wanted and frankly, I should have asked you sooner. I was so focused on not being married so young that I procrastinated."

"And then I got sick."

"Yes, but all that did was make me realize I'd made a grave mistake. And you know I'd have formally asked you three weeks ago if you hadn't insisted I wait. And I'd ask you today, but you continue to insist we wait."

"I know," Keiko said quietly. "It's just things are so uncertain."

"One thing is not uncertain, Keiko-chan, and that is that I love you."

"And I love you, Jonathan."

"Then, when the rings arrive, I'm going to ask you immediately."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Positive."

Keiko smiled, "Then you should have your last fling because once you're mine, you're mine! Well, with the special exception for Bianca because we both know I most likely won't be able to have children."

"Does that make you sad?" I asked.

"Yes, because I want to have a baby with you, but we can adopt a baby and love him or her as our own. I know you were prepared to do that with Heather if things with Bev had turned out differently."

"I was. And I don't think I'm going to have a 'last fling', though unless you tell me otherwise, I'll still be with Deanna and CeCi."

"I want you to be happy and have fun! You know I don't care who you're with now, only what happens after we're engaged."

"I don't want to disrespect you."

"You aren't! I came to you to have one night with you, never expecting more than that. I'm happy with how things developed, and you've been honest with me every step of the way. You've kept your word and lived up to our agreements as we've made them. So, with my approval and blessing, have a last fling if you want. I'm sure you'd make one of the girls very, very happy!"

"I'll think about it, OK?"

"Yes. Now, kiss me and go meet Jack, Kristy, and CeCi! You don't want to be late!"

I went into the bathroom and scrubbed my face, then returned to Keiko, and we shared a soft kiss.

"See you in the morning," I said.

"See you then!" Keiko replied.

I left her room, headed to the parking lot, then drove to the loop, arriving just in time to enter the parking garage without having to pay the evening parking fee. I quickly made my way to the lobby, arriving about five minutes early but finding Kristy and CeCi waiting. Jack joined us six minutes later, and we headed to Bacino's on Wacker Drive for dinner, then went to Water Tower Place to see the movie. After the movie, which we all enjoyed, we went to Oberweis for ice cream, then headed home, where CeCi followed me to my room.

"We should talk to Deanna tomorrow about our special activities," CeCi said as we undressed. "I suspect we only have about two weeks to figure out a time. Well, assuming you want to, and it won't mess things up with Keiko."

"It won't mess things up with Keiko, and I did promise to fulfill your wild fantasy."

"All of it? Every configuration?"

"That was what I said," I replied. "What can I do for you tonight?"

"Make me cum hard!"

"I can do that!"

LXI. That is What I Would Choose to Worship!

June 18, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"What's involved?" I asked the HVAC technician who was at the house on Saturday morning to provide the estimate for installing the UV air-cleaning unit.

"It goes in-line, before the circulation fan. We'd remove a section of the ducting, install the unit, and seal the ducting. It's actually straightforward, and you have an electrical box to make the connection, so we won't need an electrician. No permits are necessary for this change, so it'll be the cost of the unit, about two hours of labor, and under $40 in additional materials."

"When can you do it?"

"Thursday, if that works for you."

"It does. I won't be here, but one of my housemates will. She'll have a check made out to your company for the amount of the estimate."

"Before I write it up, I suggest getting the upgraded model, which combines UV and electrostatic air cleaning. That will reduce dust in the house as well. It's only $50 more and well worth it."

"Let's do that, then."

"Great!" he replied.

He wrote up the estimate, I reviewed it, signed it, then shook hands with him.

"We'll be here at 9:00am on Thursday," he said.

"Thanks," I replied.

I showed him out, then went to find Kristy so I could ask her to be at the house on Thursday. She agreed, then Bianca and I left to do our weekly grocery shopping and make the usual trip to the dry cleaners.

"What did you decide to do about your date with Teri?"

"I decided it was tacky to cancel the day before when, from one perspective, nothing changed. I'll tell her tomorrow that I think we should stop seeing each other. That allows me to have the conversation face-to-face as well, which I think I owe her."

"She could be the 'last fling' Keiko suggested before she attaches the ball and chain!"

I laughed, "First of all, Keiko is not attaching a ball and chain! Second, Teri isn't interested in that kind of encounter."

"Are you?"

"I'm absolutely attracted to her, but I can't meet her terms, and I'm not about to lie to her to get her into bed."

"You have too much integrity to do that."

"I'd say that's true, though I believe a few girls might reject that idea."

"Phoebe and Clara?" Bianca suggested.

"Those were the two I had in mind, though I don't believe I lied to either of them or misled them. I think they both had preconceived ideas about what having sex meant, and reality didn't match those ideas. That was true of Lily, but she came to a new conclusion after we stopped being exclusive."

"There are plenty of girls who think having sex is a commitment, at least to an exclusive relationship, if not a pledge of marriage."

"And that's fine, so long as it's properly communicated. That is exactly what Teri did. While it did create tension, I knew exactly where I stood and what taking that step would mean. The situation with Violet is similar, though unstated, and for different reasons."

"I agree," Bianca said. "Going back to what you said, I think having that conversation with Teri face-to-face rather than over the phone is a class act. Too many guys would wimp out and make excuses over the phone, or worse, just not show up and not answer calls from the girl."

"That's simply unacceptable behavior," I replied. "Changing topics, what do you think of Spurgeon Capital so far?"

"So far, so good," Bianca replied. "On Monday, Phil will install SPSS, and the programming language 'S' on the IBM mainframe, and I'll be able to start running the regression analysis on large data sets."

"I look forward to that! What about the other research project you were assigned?"

"I think it makes sense for me to be the expert on computer and technology companies. With help from Tony, that won't take too much time away from programming. And that's going to help in the future when you start your own firm."

"That's only going to happen if there is some insurmountable conflict, and I can't imagine Noel Spurgeon doing something that would interfere with making money! In any event, I'd need an order of magnitude more capital to even consider it, and that would require all that money to go with me, which is no sure thing. Let's just focus on being successful at Spurgeon and worry about the future in the future."

"Logical and practical," Bianca agreed.

When we completed our errands, I ate lunch, showered, dressed, and then headed to the hospital to spend a few hours with Keiko. We had an enjoyable visit, and she was allowed to walk outside for the first time since she'd been admitted. She very much enjoyed the fifteen minutes outside before we returned to her room. As had become our usual practice, I scrubbed with the antibacterial soap and kissed her before leaving the hospital.

"What are we doing today?" Teri asked after she greeted me at the door.

"I think we've seen the movies we both want to see, and neither of us is twenty-one, which means we can't get into clubs. Obviously, dinner, but otherwise, I don't have any suggestions."

"There are evening shows at the Adler Planetarium," Teri suggested.

"That's fine with me," I replied. "What about Chinese for dinner? The Golden Bull in Chinatown is excellent."

"That works for me!" Teri declared.

We left her house and headed to Chinatown. After a ten-minute wait, we were seated in a booth and had placed our orders.

"I know we spoke about continuing to see each other until you leave for UofI, but with the direction my relationship with Keiko is going, I'm not sure that's the right thing to do."

Teri frowned, "I suppose it was inevitable."

"I'm sorry," I replied. "I mean that, too. I hope you don't feel I led you on."

"No, you were nothing if not totally honest and direct, and I appreciate that, even if things didn't turn out the way I had hoped."

"Thanks for not being upset with me."

"If you had been less than forthright from the start, I'd have reason to be. I'm unhappy, obviously, but not upset. Let's just enjoy our dinner."

"That sounds good."

We did enjoy our dinner, and after I paid the check, we left the restaurant.

"Still want to go to the Planetarium?" I asked.

"I think you'll reject my alternative -- take me home and take me to bed."

"I bet this will sound strange, but as attracted as I am to you, I like you too much to do that."

Teri laughed softly, "It does sound strange, but oddly enough, I believe you. And it makes a perverse kind of sense."

"Planetarium, then?"

"Yes. Will you promise me something?"

"If I can."

"If something changes, you'll get in touch?"

"I wouldn't count on it," I replied.

"I know."

We enjoyed the show at the Planetarium, and after it ended, Teri and I had dessert at the diner near Circle, and then I took her home.

"I enjoyed our time together," Teri said. "And I'm sorry about the fights."

"I enjoyed our time together as well," I replied. "And what you call fights helped me clarify my own thinking."

"I suppose I'll just say 'good night'," she said.

"Good night."

I walked back to my car, happy with how things had turned out. Thirty minutes later, I arrived home to find only CeCi there.

"You're alone?" CeCi asked after greeting me.

"Obviously," I chuckled.

"Sorry, I didn't know any details about the girl you were out with tonight."

"No need to apologize."

"I have to ask again -- will being with Deanna and me mess things up with Keiko?"

"No. I have complete freedom until we exchange rings. The limits are those I've imposed on myself."

"OK. I'm not a prude, obviously, but I draw the line at cheating."

"Me, too. Keeping your word is key, and if someone is lying about their relationship, that's the last person I want to be involved with."

"Mind if I ask what you would do if you discovered a girl was cheating?"

"Break off the relationship, and likely never trust them again. With anything. In our training materials at Spurgeon, there's a Latin phrase that made the point about always telling the truth to clients and the SEC -- falsus in uno, falsus in omnibus, which means 'false in one, false in all', Fundamentally, once you're known to be a liar, you can't be trusted."

"I thought all the guys at work cheated on their wives."

"There is strong evidence that many, if not most, of the guys we call 'Suits' do that."

"By your logic, none of them can be trusted."

"That is the fundamental conflict with which I have to wrestle. That said, truth is vigorously enforced with anything to do with business. I honestly don't care who sleeps with whom, but I do care about integrity, fidelity, and truthfulness. Whatever else I can say about Noel Spurgeon, he runs a clean shop, at least from the standpoint of the SEC, IRS, CFTC, and other regulatory agencies, and with regard to clients. His personal life is a different story. That said, I know his wife has lovers, so maybe there's some kind of agreement between them."

"How do you know that?"

"Rumor, mostly, but also because she hit on me when I drove Mr. Spurgeon's car to his house not long after I started."

"AND?"

"Nothing. No way. That would have been a foolish mistake."

"What would you do if a spouse cheated?"

"I would hope my judgment of their integrity and fidelity never led to that, but if it did, it would sunder the relationship. How could you ever trust that person again?"

"I'm not sure how you'll react to these concepts -- confession and forgiveness."

"I understand the Christian concepts, at least in a general way, but I think 'karma' is a better concept. You can't expect to commit some grave transgression and assume everything will be OK because you admitted it and promised not to do it again. Our legal system is based on the theory that the punishment should fit the crime, and I think the consequences of a transgression should fit the transgression. And that applies to all transgressions, not just the ones we call 'crimes'. And, by the way, in Illinois, both adultery and fornication are crimes."

"NO WAY!" CeCi gasped. "Screwing is a crime if you aren't married?"

"Or married to someone else. As I was told, those laws are no longer enforced, but they're still on the books."

"They'd have to arrest half the population, at least! I mean, seriously, how many people are both virgins when they marry? I can't imagine it's a huge number. I mean, I know girls who were devoutly religious who had sex as teenagers."

"Hormones have more earthly power over our lives than any god in his, her, or its wildest dreams! And if we follow logically from what I hear Christians say, their god created the world out of nothing and directly created human beings with strong sex drives, then told them not to do it except in certain limited circumstances, long after those hormones are flowing. He is then shocked, shocked, that they do it anyway!"

CeCi laughed, "That is one way to put it! The usual explanation is that lust is a product of the Fall, not part of the design."

"I call BS! Doesn't the concept of omniscience mean that the Christian god knew what would happen before he created everything? If so, there is no way to escape the conclusion that he knew what would happen and decided to do it anyway! And they maintain their god is all-powerful, so he could have created humans differently. But he didn't. So, how is it even remotely possible that he can punish people for doing something he knew they would do?"

"The usual answer is 'free will'."

"This god supposedly creates a set of rules, then supposedly creates people with a propensity to break those rules. Why? A loyalty test? I mean, seriously? That sounds more like Nixon than god!"

CeCi laughed, then asked, "Care to put those hormones to good use?"

I took her hand and led her up the stairs.

June 19, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

CeCi and I slept in on Sunday morning, having a late breakfast around 10:00am. Once we'd eaten, she, Deanna, and I went up to Deanna's room so we could discuss their request.

"I think the first question has to be what you meant by 'every configuration'," I said to CeCi.

"All the possibilities!" she declared.

"Doing the math in my head," Deanna said. "I think physiology requires multiple sessions."

"Mind clueing me in?" I asked.

"You do each of us in the butt while the other girl does you in the butt," CeCi said. "Then you do each of us in the pussy while the other girl does you in the butt. Then you and one of us double penetrate the other, once each way. By my math, that's eight times. And, of course, Deanna and I take turns doing each other both ways, but that isn't blocked by male physiology."

"That's a bit more extreme than I thought," I replied. "I figured once each. I mean, doing me."

"We obviously don't want you to be uncomfortable," Deanna said.

"I think that's a given knowing where you intend to put the dildo!" I chuckled.

"I meant mentally or emotionally, obviously!"

"Obviously!" I replied. "In order to do what you suggest, we're going to need two separate sessions to ensure we don't run into problems with recovery time or the outside chance of no recovery at all. And we have to work around both your shifts at Venice."

"What about next Saturday evening and Sunday morning?" Deanna asked. "I don't have a Saturday shift, CeCi only works until 5:00pm, and neither of us have a Sunday shift."

"That would probably work," I replied. "I don't have to leave to see Violet until around 2:30pm. The only caveat is that Keiko comes home on Friday, and I need to be available for her."

"Then Tuesday and Wednesday?" Deanna suggested. "We both have day shifts on those days. Those are our usual nights, and if we come upstairs right after dinner, you'll still get enough sleep. Four times in one night is easy for you!"

"Part of it will be easy!" I chuckled.

"If you don't want to do it, please say so," Deanna said. "As much as we want to do it, you have to be comfortable with the idea if not the sensation."

"I did promise," I replied. "And I admit that I have this morbid curiosity similar to yours."

"Be happy I didn't buy a Jonathan-size dildo!" Deanna smirked. "Think about THAT!"

"I'd rather not!"

The phone rang, and I excused myself to answer it.

"Kane."

"Hi, Jonathan; it's Katy Martin!"

"Hi, Katy. How was your semester?"

"All A's and plenty of sex!"

"So a perfect college experience!"

"Pretty much, though I avoided getting drunk."

"I'm not sure being drunk is part of a 'perfect college experience'!"

"I agree, but it is pretty typical! Anyway, I wondered if there's any chance I could see you? Esme said that Bianca told her that you and Keiko were going to be a couple, but you still have a bit of freedom before that happens."

I did, but I'd also resolved to stick to the girls in the house. I did have an 'out', if I wanted it, in that Keiko had not only suggested, but encouraged, a 'last fling', and if I was going to use that exception, Katy and Esme would be the perfect choice.

"I do," I replied. "I just hadn't planned to make use of that freedom."

Well, beyond CeCi, Deanna, and Bianca, and possibly Juliette, but I didn't want to say that to anyone outside our small circle.

"I obviously don't want you to break any promises, but I would really like to see you one more time. I'm free every night this week."

I considered the idea, and it did fit within my commitment to Keiko. And it would be the absolute last opportunity. Neither Katy nor Esme were interested in anything other than having fun, and I'd enjoyed being with them. If I was going to do it, though, it had to be before Keiko came home, as that was the hard deadline I had in my mind.

"It would have to be tomorrow evening," I said. "I'm busy the rest of the week, and Keiko comes home on Friday."

"Tomorrow would work."

"Just you? Or you and Esme?"

"Esme is in Texas visiting her paternal grandparents and her cousins on that side of the family."

"OK," I replied. "Why don't you show up around 5:30pm for dinner."

"Great! Are you open to a suggestion?"

"I'm a financial analyst! I'll listen to any proposal, even one that seems crazy. I evaluate everything that is presented and decide if it's there's a reasonable expected value."

Katy laughed, "Now you sound like my stats prof! We spent an entire week on expected value. I now understand how badly casinos are rigged against the player!"

"You'd have to be a real moron to lose money running a casino, given the little I know about the odds!"

"I had no idea! Of course, the real stumper was what's called the Monty Hall Problem."

"The Let's Make a Deal guy?"

"Yes. It turns out that when playing for the grand prize, you should always trade. You'll win two-thirds of the time."

"No way!" I objected. " It's 50/50 because he shows you one door! You trade Door #1 for Door #3, or whatever."

"Ah, and that's the thing! You're trading your door for two doors. Showing you one is deception. Imagine trading without seeing what's behind Door #2. You're trading Door #1 for Door #2 and Door #3. Every single time. Showing you one doesn't change that; it only reveals what's behind the door early. We ran simulations to prove it. You'll win the car 2/3 of the time if you switch. There are any number of ways to show that to be true, assuming truly random distribution and logical behavior by Monty Hall when choosing which door to open."

"Interesting. I'll have to ask in my stats class in the Fall. What's the suggestion?"

"Have you ever been with a Cherokee girl?"

"Sweetening the pot?" I asked with a grin Katy couldn't see.

"I have a friend who I could bring. She's eighteen and starts at Princeton in the Fall."

"Why do I have this vision of a trio running amok at Princeton in September?"

"Because you're a smart man!" Katy declared.

"Tell me a bit about this girl, please."

"My height, jet black hair, brown eyes, athletic build, class valedictorian. And on the Pill."

"And she's aware it would be a one-time thing?"

"It's NEVER only one time with you!" Katy teased.

"One occasion!" I replied, laughing.

"So, what do you think?"

"Is this an 'all or nothing' offer?"

"No," Katy replied. "Just a suggestion or an offer. No hard feelings either way."

"Then I'm doing it wrong!" I teased.

Katy laughed hard, then said, "Nice."

"I'll use my 'last fling' card," I replied. "Invite her if you want."

"I do! I'm positive you'll find her VERY attractive. I sure do!"

"See you tomorrow evening," I said,

"See you then. And I've been totally rude. How is Keiko?"

"Doing OK at the moment," I replied. "She comes home on Friday, but she has additional rounds of chemo. Fortunately, those can be done out-patient, rather than being hospitalized for over a month."

"So she's going to recover?"

"It's too early to tell, but the doctor said the first round of chemo was successful based on the standards they use. We really won't have an idea of how successful until after the next round in July."

"Hopefully, you'll get very good news."

"Hopefully."

"See you tomorrow!"

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, then rejoined Deanna and CeCi in Deanna's studio/bedroom.

"Is there anything else we need to discuss?" I asked.

"Not that I can think of," Deanna said. "CeCi?"

"Not about this. Jonathan, what's the 'expiration date'?"

"The rings should be here sometime during the week of July 11th. I'd say that whatever day they arrive would be it. I'll know because the jeweler in San Francisco will call to say he's sending them to me by Registered mail. To be safe, assume July 13th, but it could be longer, depending on how long it takes for them to clear Customs."

"Are we going out on Friday night?"

"Keiko will insist, I'm sure. She's not going to be able to be out and about much until she completes the course of chemo. She'll be able to take walks, wearing a mask, but going someplace with a lot of people would be a bad choice, given she'll be susceptible to what they call 'opportunistic infections'."

"Will she wear a mask all the time?"

"I don't believe she'll need to, as that's the point of the UV air cleaners that I ordered, including one that is hooked up to the A/C, which will be installed on Thursday. Kristy will be here to let the HVAC technicians in to install it. I'm not sure what the guidelines will be once she starts her next round of chemo. We'll ask the doctor about that."

"Bianca said we're doing a top-to-bottom cleaning this evening," Deanna said.

"Yes. The main focus is on Keiko's room and the front room, but we want to wash the floors, all the kitchen counters, and the bathrooms as well."

"Tell me to mind my own business," CeCi said, "but fooling around?"

"Inadvisable for the foreseeable future," I replied.

"That's going to be rough on you," CeCi replied.

"Actually, not the way you think," Deanna said. "Bianca is going to try to get pregnant before Keiko and Jonathan marry."

"Whoa!" CeCi gasped. "Didn't see THAT one coming!"

"She and Jonathan have talked about a baby, and Keiko doesn't object."

"So," CeCi smirked, "if I agree to have Jonathan's baby, I could keep sleeping with him?"

"I'm not sure that's going to fly with Keiko," I replied with a smile.

"I was teasing, obviously, because I have zero interest in having a kid at eighteen!" CeCi declared emphatically. "That's way too much responsibility and way too big a commitment!"

"I hear you," I replied. "And the timing is different from what I had planned or expected, but the universe has thrown me a number of curveballs that have caused me to reconsider my thinking on the matter."

"You were ready to accept Bev's daughter as your own, right?"

"Yes, though Bev clearly belongs with Glen; she did NOT belong with Bob. And I'm sorry to cut this short, but I need to call my mom, then head to Violet's house."

I left the attic, headed to my room, shut the door, then dialed my mom's number.

"How is Keiko?" Mom asked as soon as I greeted her.

"She'll come home on Friday," I replied. "Her next round of chemo starts in about three weeks."

"Would it be OK for me to come visit on July 4th?"

"It would, and you're welcome to join us at a Cubs double-header and for fireworks."

"Who all will be there?"

"If you're asking about Glen, I did invite Bev and him. Is that a concern?"

"Not for me," Mom said. "I think he did the right thing by Bev, even if I disapprove of his behavior as a teacher. I think it might be uncomfortable for him."

"That's on him, then," I replied. "I'll let Bev know you plan to come to Chicago, and they can decide what to do."

"And you have a ticket for me? I mean, without displacing one of your friends?"

"Yes. I had planned to offer five tickets to my firemen friends to give to other firemen, but I can change that to four. I hadn't given them a ticket count, so it's not a problem. Also, I'm not sure if they have shifts, so they might need fewer tickets, in which case I'll offer them to other friends. We're going to Grant Park for fireworks. The only question is about a place to stay, but if you don't object, I can ask my friend Violet to put you up for a few days. I'm positive she'll agree. She has a house bigger than yours all to herself."

"I don't want to be a burden," Mom said.

"Trust me, you won't."

"Then expect me on the 2nd, and I'll come home on the 5th. The district offices and the school offices are closed for the first two weeks in July."

"Great! How are things otherwise?"

"Good. How about you?"

"Everything is good at work and with my friends, with the exception of Keiko's situation. By the way, if you want to bring a friend, that'll be OK."

"What kind of girl do you think I am?" Mom asked with mock outrage.

"I can think of several smart-ass answers, all of which will land me in the doghouse, so I'll keep my mouth shut!"

"A wise move, Mister!"

"Is there anyone you're seeing?"

"I had a date on Friday night, if you must know, Nosy Nate!"

"Someone you'll see again?"

"I think so, yes. We'll see if he calls. I expect he will."

"Mind if I ask what he does?"

"He's a building inspector for Clermont County. And to anticipate your next question, divorced with a twenty-year-old daughter who is at Ohio State."

"I do have one bit of news, and that is that I ordered Japanese-style engagement rings for Keiko and me."

"When do you plan to pop the question?"

"Already popped, so to speak. We discussed it before we spoke with a jeweler in San Francisco who could get them from Japan for us. We'll formalize it once the rings arrive, which is probably about three weeks, but could be more due to Customs."

"I have to ask, as a mom, if you did this because of Keiko's cancer?"

"We've been on this trajectory for several months. Her diagnosis brought a moment of clarity, and I saw no point in further delay. And yes, I'm aware of the possible outcomes. I choose to act as if we'll have the best possible outcome and deal with anything less than that if it happens.

"I understand your concern, obviously, because I've thought about it. In the end, if I changed how I felt about Keiko because of her leukemia, what would that say about me as a man? And how would anyone who might depend on me in the future see me if I were to, in effect, abandon Keiko in the midst of the greatest struggle she's likely to face in her life?"

"That is exactly the way I would expect you to think," Mom said. "Nothing has ever been more important for you than your personal integrity and your fidelity to your commitments. It's why every place you ever worked would take you back in a heartbeat. And despite his displeasure with what you and Bev did together, why Jim Newton respected you."

"I don't know any dad of a teenage girl who would approve of what Bev and I did!"

"Your grandfather certainly didn't, though the consequences of me doing that were quite different."

"Far be it from me to argue against my own existence," I replied. "And I don't judge. You did what you felt was right, and in the end, that's all we can ever do. The problems arose because your dad followed an ancient moral code that made women property and declared sex to be bad in any context except lifetime marriage. Without that, things might have been very different."

"And speaking of Jim Newton, have you had any luck convincing Bev to get in touch?"

"No. At this point, pressing the issue will only cause her to become even more stubborn than she usually is!"

Mom laughed, "She was always very determined to do things her way, and you were compliant."

"I'd say that worked out in my favor Senior year!"

Mom laughed, "No seventeen-year-old boy is ever going to complain about a girl basically throwing him down and screwing him!"

I laughed, "And you know this how?"

"Because until that night, you never saw anything other than your friend Bev. Then you saw your friend Bev, and the rest is, as they say, history!"

"That might be what happened," I chuckled.

"I'll let you go. When we talk next weekend, I'll give you my specific plans."

"OK. I'll speak with Violet when I see her in about an hour. Assume everything is OK unless I say otherwise, in which case I'll put you up in a hotel."

"Talk to you next Sunday," Mom said.

"Talk to you then," I agreed.

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, then took a shower, dressed, and left the house to drive to the hospital to see Keiko.

"How are you doing today?" I asked after we greeted each other.

"Starting to go a little stir crazy because I feel so much better."

"Just follow Doctor Morrison's guidance," I replied.

"Oh, I am, but that doesn't mean I like being cooped up here! At least at home, I'll have my room and the front room and all my stuff."

"The air cleaner for the A/C will be installed on Thursday, and the two portable units will be delivered no later than Friday by UPS."

"That's good. And the deck and hot tub?"

"Going according to plan. The deck will receive a second coat of stain, and the fire pit hood will be installed tomorrow. The hot tub will be installed on Tuesday, and the final inspection will be that afternoon."

"I really appreciate you doing all of those things," Keiko said.

"You know I'll do anything within my power to help you and care for you," I said. "And speaking of that, Mr. Matheson said that Noel Spurgeon has contacts at Mayo Clinic who cared for his mom when she had breast cancer. If we need them, Mr. Matheson said Mr. Spurgeon would call them on our behalf."

"Do you think we should?" Keiko asked.

"It's really up to you," I replied. "If it were me, I'd stick with Doctor Morrison at least until we know the results of the next round of chemo. From what I've read and researched, what he's doing is the best possible treatment. But if it would make you feel more comfortable, then I'll ask tomorrow morning."

"I think I'll wait to see the results from the chemo next month. If things improve, then there doesn't seem to be a point in bringing in another doctor. If they don't, then yes, because I want to live."

"And I want you to live! You just say the word, and I'll ask Mr. Matheson or go directly to Mr. Spurgeon."

"How did things go with Teri yesterday?"

"She was disappointed but not upset. I told her before we had dinner at Red Bull in Chinatown, and we kept our plan to see the show at Adler Planetarium."

"No offer to go to bed with you to change your mind?" Keiko asked with a smile and an arched eyebrow.

"She did suggest she wanted to go to bed together, but knew that I'd refuse and also knew that it wasn't going to change anything."

"Refuse because of me?"

"That's certainly a big part of it, but it would have violated one of her core principles with no chance of success. As much of a dog as I might be at times, I'm not that much of a dog!"

Keiko laughed softly, "You aren't, really. It's not as if you go hunting! You're the zebra, and the girls are the lionesses!"

"If the zebra relished being caught!" I chuckled. "I do need to let you know that Katy called and asked to see me."

"What did you say?"

"I considered it and decided that I'd use my 'last fling' with her."

"And Esme?"

"Esme is in Texas visiting her dad's family. Katy did suggest bringing a friend."

"Which would be a true last fling!" Keiko smirked. "And yes, I'm OK with it, based on everything we've said, which doesn't need to be repeated."

"I know, but I felt I needed to tell you. The last thing I want to do is go behind your back."

"I want to ask you a serious question, and one I hope you've thought about."

"What's that?"

"If we do what we've discussed, with the rules I've put in place, you could be signing up for years without sex."

"I considered that possibility and chose to move forward, and that was before you agreed to modify our agreement about Bianca to extend until she's pregnant or we conclude we can't conceive for some reason."

"I'm not sure that's fair to you," Keiko sighed.

"I'm making the commitment to you with full knowledge of that possibility. Nobody is forcing me, nor do I feel compelled by anything other than my love for you. And you know that once I give my word on something, it's sacrosanct."

"I do, but, well, I need to be a bit more blunt than I usually am."

"Go ahead."

"You have sex nearly every night, and you're, in effect, going to go cold turkey, except for the week to ten days each month when Bianca is most likely to get pregnant. If, by some chance, that happens next month, then you won't have any outlet."

"Again, I'm doing so voluntarily, with the knowledge that's not only possible but probable. I don't see any solution that fits within either of our definitions of marriage. Bianca is an extreme exception, only possible because you're honoring me giving my word to her, which, I'll point out, I was willing to forego. In fact, I assumed that would be the case, and you surprised me by offering an accommodation I would never have expected or suggested."

"You're sure?"

"I'm positive, Keiko-chan. I love you."

"I really like it when you call me 'Keiko-chan'."

"It just seems right when I say I love you. How does one say 'I love you' in Japanese?"

"«愛してる» (ai shiteru)," Keiko said.

I couldn't help but start laughing because it sounded every bit like 'I shit on you'.

"What?" she asked.

"You don't want to know!" I chuckled. "What my brain heard is TOTALLY disconnected from 'I love you!'"

"I won't be upset."

"It sounded for all the world like 'I shit on you' in a terrible Japanese accent."

Keiko laughed almost as hard as I had.

"Wow!" she exclaimed.

"Sorry."

"It's OK. This would be where my mom would call you a 'barbarian', using the offensive word for foreigners."

"She wouldn't be wrong, at least with regard to my lack of understanding of Japanese and Japanese culture. I want to ask a question about that, if it's OK?"

"Always. What?"

"How much of your cultural heritage do you intend to pass on to our children?"

"I think the answer has to be as much as you're comfortable with," Keiko replied.

"I certainly haven't seen or heard anything in what you do and say that gives me pause. Bianca even commented that I'm basically a Buddhist in my understanding of the universe."

"Yes, I think that fits, specifically, Zen Buddhism, which is the dominant type in Japan and is a source for current Japanese religious practices. Shinto existed before Buddhism came to Japan, and Buddhist temples were first built close to, or even adjacent to, Shinto shrines. There was a process called «神仏習合» (Shinbutsu-shūgō), which means 'syncretism of kami and buddhas'.

"That lasted until the end of the Edo period, around 1868. That year, the Meiji government issued the «神仏判然令» (Shinbutsu Hanzenrei), or in English, the 'Kami and Buddhas Separation Order'. There was a violent uprising against Buddhist temples and priests, and about five years later, the order was relaxed. Ultimately, the policy failed, except to instill in the public mind that Shinto and Buddhism were separate religions.

"In many ways, they are intermixed, and one could view them as two sides of a coin. Most Japanese have Buddhist funerals, and it was the need for funerals, graves, and other things traditionally administered by Buddhist temples that led to relaxing the order. In my mind, the syncretism is so complete, it cannot be separated, and a separate 'Shinto' is a political construct."

"What does your grandfather think?"

"That is basically his thinking as well; my mom would be outraged at such a comment. Going back to what you asked, I think it's important for our children, if we have them, to know their heritage but not be bound by it the way my mom would want. I think my grandfather's approach is perfect -- fit the Japanese traditions to our circumstances in America. And we are absolutely Americans. Yes, some people call me Japanese-American, but I am an American, born here, with a dad who was born here."

"I don't think we'll have any conflicts, I mean, you and me. I very much like the Japanese culture you've put on display."

"And the Japanese body?" Keiko asked with a sly smile.

"If I'm going to worship anything, that is what I would choose to worship!"

LXII. A Last Fling

June 19, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Did Keiko tell you I visited this morning?" Violet asked after she greeted me on Sunday afternoon with the usual hug and kiss on the cheek.

"She did. I appreciate you visiting her. I assume she let you know she's being released on Friday."

"Yes. She won't be able to join us for the baseball game or the fireworks, will she?"

"Probably not, but I plan to ask her doctor when I see him tomorrow afternoon. I do need to tell you something about Keiko."

"You're going to marry her, aren't you?"

"Yes."

Violet's eyes became glassy, and I could tell she was fighting back her tears.

"I knew that was going to happen," she said, barely able to get the words out.

"I promise we'll still see each other, and you'll always be welcome at our house."

"I just...I wish it could have been different...because...never mind."

"Just say what you want to say, please," I said, keeping my voice as friendly and sympathetic as I could.

"I want to be with you that way," Violet said quietly, "but..."

She finally lost control of her emotions and began sobbing. In almost any other situation, I'd have simply sat and waited for the girl to stop, but Violet was different and needed a different response. I moved from the chair to the couch next to her, helped her into my lap, and held her while she cried.

"Sorry," she said about five minutes later.

"It's OK," I replied. "You have absolutely no need to apologize for anything."

If anyone should be apologizing, it would be her parents, but I doubted any encounter I might have with them would end in any way other than me being hauled away in handcuffs. Of course, her dad was serving what I hoped would be a life sentence, though, in theory, he could be out after twenty years. Fortunately, according to Nelson, there was no credit for 'good behavior' attached to his sentence, meaning it would actually be twenty years. Her mom was a different story, and I hoped to never cross paths with her, as I wasn't sure my pacifism could control my visceral anger about what had been done to Violet.

"Thank you for allowing me to cry on your shoulder," Violet said.

"I hope you know how much I care for you."

"I do, and that's what makes it harder. I care for you, too."

"Are you up for making dinner together, or do you want to order something? Or walk over to Mr. Greek?"

"Let's walk to Mr. Greek," Violet agreed.

We left the house, and as we walked north on Halsted, Violet slipped her hand into mine. That, and the light hugs and kisses on the cheek and the extremely rare cuddling in my lap, were the limits of her physical expression. She'd tried to push further, but the emotional and psychological trauma had prevented it.

I was relatively certain that Violet would never get past that despite the therapy. She no longer had panic attacks, which was a positive thing, but she was, because of the evil perpetrated against her, consigned to be single for her entire life. What I wanted to ensure was that she was not alone.

"Have you seen Bev or Lily lately?" I asked.

"Both. Lily and I meet for lunch on Tuesdays, and I saw Bev last Saturday. I'll see her again next Saturday. Heather is growing so fast!"

"I was there when she was born, and she was such a tiny little thing and so totally helpless. She's a year old now and ready to walk!"

"You know she and Glen plan to marry, right?"

"Yes. That was a given once he decided to move to Illinois. Before I forget, my mom is coming to visit for the Fourth. Do you think she could stay with you? We don't have a spare room at the house."

"Sure! How much trouble could your mom be?"

"Ask my grandfather!" I replied with a grin.

Violet laughed, "She was sixteen when she had you, right?"

"Seventeen. Sixteen when she got pregnant."

"She can stay, obviously. How many days?"

"She plans to drive up on the 2nd and go home on the 5th, so three nights. She'll come to Wrigley Field with us and to Grant Park."

"Uhm, what about Bev?"

"That's up to her and Glen," I replied. "My mom is OK with the situation."

"I still think it's a bit creepy, but I know Bev is really happy."

"In the end, that's what matters, not what anyone else thinks."

"When will you and Keiko get married?"

"I'm not sure. I ordered rings, which we'll exchange when we get engaged sometime in late July. The wedding date will depend on working around her chemo, and we also have to speak to the Shinto priest."

"Whoa!" Violet exclaimed. "You're having a religious ceremony?!"

"In honor of Keiko's Japanese heritage and traditions. The Eastern philosophies, especially Buddhism, do not require belief in a personal god or any specific theistic belief. I'm no expert, obviously, but I don't see anything about Shinto which requires me to compromise my beliefs or disbeliefs, for that matter. The fun part will be wearing a kimono."

"You have to invite me! I just have to see you in a kimono!"

"We haven't made any plans as yet, but you'll be invited, of course."

"Will I still be able to hug you after that?"

"Yes, of course. Keiko is not the jealous type. You can ask her yourself to be sure."

"Even if it doesn't seem like it, I'm happy for you and Keiko."

"You'll always be my friend," I said. "No matter what."

"Thanks."

We had a tasty, filling meal at Mr. Greek, then walked back to our usual diner near the university to have dessert. After dessert, I walked Violet home, where I received the usual hug and kiss on the cheek. Once she'd gone into the house, I walked to my car and headed home to help my housemates clean in preparation for Keiko coming home on Friday.

June 20, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Monday, I began my day early, which would allow me to leave at 2:30pm to be with Keiko when Doctor Morrison presented her test results. I completed my usual morning tasks, reviewed my portfolio holdings, and made a few adjustments, then spent about thirty minutes on my Russian research project before Bianca and I had lunch and went to the gym.

When I returned, there was a message for me from my mom. I was surprised and concerned, so I quickly dialed the number for the school that she'd left.

"Goshen High, Linda Kane speaking," she said when she answered the phone.

"Hi, Mom. What's up?"

"Jim Newton had a heart attack this morning," she said. "Julie asked me to ask you to tell Bev."

"How bad?" I asked.

"I honestly don't know. He's at Clermont County Hospital. I have a number for the Cardiac Unit, so Bev can reach her mom, who called me from the waiting room."

"Let me have the number, please," I requested. "But I can't guarantee Bev will call."

"You're joking, right?"

"I wish I was," I replied. "I've had no luck in convincing her to speak to them, and I'm not sure even this will do it."

"Try hard, Jonathan."

"I have. All I can do is relay the message."

"You could give me Bev's phone number, and I could give it to Julie."

"And destroy my friendship with Bev? No chance. Let me call her, and then it's up to her."

We said 'goodbye' and I ended the call, then placed a call to Hart-Lincoln and asked for Bev.

"Bev Newton," she said when she came on the line.

"Bev, it's Jonathan."

"Hi, Jonny! What's up?"

"My mom just called and asked me to relay a message from your mom..."

"Will they ever leave me alone?!" she interrupted, sounding exasperated.

"Bev, your dad is at Clermont County Hospital. He had a heart attack."

"Oh!" she gasped.

"I have a phone number for the Cardiac Unit. You can call and talk to them or talk to your mom, who is in the waiting room."

"This number doesn't go straight to my dad's room, does it?"

"Mom simply said it's for the Cardiac Unit, so I'm going to guess it rings at the nurses' station or maybe even an internal switchboard to connect the call."

"OK."

I repeated the number my mom had provided twice, asked Bev to let me know what she found out, and encouraged her to speak to her mom. She was non-committal about the latter but promised the former, and we ended the call. She called back about twenty minutes later.

"He had what they called a 'mild' heart attack," Bev said. "He needs a procedure called 'balloon angioplasty' but has to be transferred to The Christ Hospital because they can't do it at Clermont County. Do you know what that procedure is? If not, the nurse explained it."

"I do know what it is," I replied. "My boss in the mailroom had one last year. When will he have the procedure?"

"Early this evening after he's transferred."

"Did you speak to your mom?"

"No."

"Bev..." I protested.

"Drop it, please, Jonny. I'll call the other hospital later to make sure he's OK."

"You always were stubborn," I said. "You should reconsider. And I'll leave it at that. Keep me posted, OK?"

"I will. Thanks for relaying the message."

"I do have one other thing to tell you," I said. "My mom is coming to Chicago for a few days around the Fourth. She'll be at the Cubs game and the fireworks. She knows you and Glen are invited and isn't concerned."

"I'm not sure how Glen will feel about that."

"If my mom is cool with you being together, he should be cool with her. You know her only objection was that he was a teacher, and you were a student. Otherwise, she thinks it was a good thing for him to accept his responsibility for Heather."

"I'll talk to him."

I acknowledged her, we said 'goodbye' and after I ended that call, I dialed Goshen High to update my mom.

"Did Mrs. Newton tell you that Mr. Newton needs a procedure they can't perform at Clermont County?" I asked.

"No."

"He needs something called a 'balloon angioplasty', which basically means they thread an instrument into a blood vessel in his leg and use a balloon to expand a clogged blood vessel near or on his heart. It's a relatively new procedure, first done about six years ago, and they can't do it at Clermont County, so they're sending him to The Christ Hospital in Cincinnati."

"Did Bev speak to her mom?"

"No," I sighed. "She only spoke to a nurse. I tried to talk to her about it, but she told me to drop it. I'd say that relationship is effectively sundered just as yours was with your parents."

"The difference is, I was kicked out," Mom said. "Bev's parents accepted what had happened, and I can only imagine that Bev's acting the way she is because she's embarrassed about Heather's father."

"Or she's afraid of how her dad will react. I don't think that would be pretty at all. But, as I've said, eventually they'll find her because she's working, has to register her car properly, has a driving license, and so on. Yes, they have my address, but she can't sustain that forever without risking getting into serious trouble with the State of Illinois. Not to mention, her name will be on a marriage certificate, among other documents."

"Maybe I'll try to talk to her when I'm there."

"I wouldn't count on having much luck, and knowing Bev, she'll point out that you don't speak to your parents."

"Did you ever get in touch with them?"

"No, because of Keiko's situation. I will, once things stabilize a bit."

"OK."

We said 'goodbye,' and I ended the call. I began my afternoon work, analyzing currency trades from earlier in the day in Europe and Hong Kong. I left work at 2:30pm and was in Keiko's room just before 3:00pm when Doctor Morrison arrived.

"I have your test results from Friday, Keiko," he said. "I think the best answer is 'status quo'. There was a small increase in your blast count, which we don't want to see, but it wasn't large enough to say that the chemo failed. Fundamentally, we're in 'wait and see' mode until after the next round of chemo. That said, you can go home on Friday as planned."

"What restrictions will she have?" I asked.

"You purchased the ultraviolet air cleaners?"

"One for her room, one for the front room where she'll spend a lot of time, and a whole-house system that works when the A/C is running. They'll all be operating by Friday."

"Then, at home, neither Keiko nor you and your other housemates need to wear a mask, but you should request anyone who has a cold or infection to not come to the house. I'd also avoid anyone who is in elementary school, as they are exposed to more infectious diseases."

"What about going outside?" Keiko asked.

"Being outside and getting some sun is a good thing, as are walks, but you should avoid crowds. If you're in your backyard, there's no need to wear a mask, but if you go anyplace where the general public might, such as a convenience store or grocery store, you should wear a mask. It's all about levels of risk."

"Do we need anything special at the house?" I asked.

"Not at first, but once she starts the next round of chemo, you'll want a pail for when she inevitably vomits. Make sure you have plenty of Lysol and rubber gloves. Remember, she'll excrete chemo drugs via sweat, saliva, and other bodily fluids. Not that she'll feel like it, but sexual contact is inadvisable, even using prophylactics."

"What about the next two weeks?" Keiko asked.

"I would advise against it," Doctor Morrison said. "It's one more vector for an infection that your body will have a tough time fighting. That's true even if you use prophylactics, which you would have to, given you've been off your birth control pills, and there is no guarantee they'd be effective if you started again, which you absolutely should not."

"And sleeping in the same bed?"

"I'd say it's OK for the next few weeks, but during and immediately following your chemo, I'd recommend against it because of what I said before about the chemo drugs being excreted. Showers are OK, as are baths, if you feel up to them, but you should have someone with you if you take a bath...and I see that smirk, young lady -- I don't mean in the tub!"

Keiko and I both laughed.

"But for the next few weeks?" she asked.

"I'd say it doesn't increase your risks if you two are going to be sharing a bed."

"Is there anything else we should be doing?" I asked. "Either personally or medically?"

"Not at this point," Doctor Morrison said. "Keiko's grandfather has arranged for private marrow testing, and we should begin to see results in the next week. That's a bit ahead of where we are, but it certainly never hurts to be prepared for every eventuality."

"As soon as she receives a diagnosis that requires it, Loyola will allow a testing drive on campus," I said.

"That's very good news. Let's hope it doesn't come to that, and we see the results we want from the next round of chemo."

"What time will she be discharged on Friday?" I asked.

"Usually around 10:00am," Doctor Morrison replied.

"My grandmother can bring me to our house," Keiko said. "I don't want you to use up another vacation day."

"If you're sure," I said.

"Positive."

"Is there anything else?" Doctor Morrison asked.

Neither Keiko nor I had any further questions, so he left the room.

"I spoke to my dad this morning about the «結納» (yuino). Is there any way your family could attend?"

"I was going to tell you that my mom will be here from July 2nd to July 5th, but we won't have the rings by then. And I put off speaking to my grandparents once you received your diagnosis. Timing wise, the rings might not arrive until a few days before your next round of chemo. I have a possible solution, but I don't know if it works within Japanese tradition."

"What?"

"What if we had the gathering on July 2nd? My mom will be here, and I can contact my grandparents. The problem, of course, is that I'm not sure they'll be willing to be together. I'm positive I can talk my mom into it after something she said today...oh, I need to tell you something, but let me finish this thought first. I have no idea what my grandparents will say or do. What happens if I cannot have family attend?"

"The entire point of the gathering is for the families to exchange gifts, so I'm not sure it could work without them."

"All I can do is try. I do plan to ask you formally as soon as I have the rings in hand."

Keiko smiled, "I know. And I will say 'yes', though I still think you should wait to ask."

"No matter what the future holds, I want to marry you, Keiko-chan. Even without your diagnosis, there were no guarantees as my dad's death before I was born or my friend Paula's murder both prove fairly conclusively."

Keiko smiled, "I love you very much."

"And I love you! Shall we take a walk?"

"Yes."

We went outside, which Keiko very much appreciated, and walked for about fifteen minutes before returning to her room. She still had to wear the mask when outside her room, but as of Friday, she'd be free of that burden, at least in the house and taking walks around the neighborhood. I stayed with Keiko until 5:00 when we exchanged our single quick kiss, and I headed home for dinner.

"What did the doctor say?" Bianca asked as soon as I walked into the house.

"Basically, status quo. She had a slight increase in her blast cell count, but I think that was pretty much expected, given what happened with her first round of chemo. Doctor Morrison didn't seem worried and once again said it's not the best result, but also not the worst. The test after the next round of chemo is going to be the one that tells us where we stand."

"OK. Dinner will be ready at 6:00pm. It'll just be you, me, and Juliette, plus Katy and her friend. Kristy and Jack went out with Allyson and Tim, Deanna is working, and CeCi was going to hang out with Sophie and Ivy after her shift."

"OK. I'm going upstairs to change. I'll be right back down to help."

"Juliette and I have it under control! Just relax!"

"Thanks."

I went up to my room, took off my suit, decided on a quick shower, then dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. I went downstairs, and just as I reached the bottom step, the doorbell rang. I went to the front door and opened it to find Katy with her friend, a stunning girl with what I would have called 'American Indian' features, including light brown skin with just a hint of red.

"Jonathan, meet Tayanita; Tayanita this is Jonathan!" [pronounced 'TAH-yah-NEE-tah']

"Hi!" I exclaimed. "Come in!"

The girls came into the house, and I shut the door. They each set a gym bag on the floor and followed me into the great room.

"Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes," I said. "Can I get either of you something to drink?"

"I think we're fine," Katy said.

"What about for dinner? We have Coke, Sprite, Dr Pepper, Orange Crush, milk, ice water, or either red or white wine."

"I'll take a Sprite, please," Tayanita said.

"Orange Crush for me," Katy said.

I excused myself, left them in the great room, got three bottles of pop from the fridge and put them on the table, then rejoined the girls in the great room.

"I hope it's not too forward to ask if your name has a meaning in Cherokee?"

She and Katy looked at each other, and they both burst out laughing.

"Did I just commit a major faux pas?" I asked.

"No," Katy replied with tears in her eyes from laughing. "It's just, well, she'll tell you."

"In our language, which is «ᏣᎳᎩ ᎦᏬᏂᎯᏍᏗ» (Tsalagi Gawonihisdi), or 'Cherokee' in the vernacular, my name means 'young beaver'."

I almost said 'No way!' or that she was joking, but a few seconds of thought convinced me she was telling the truth, and it was like naming a girl 'Bunny', and I was sure the sexual connotation wasn't part of what I would have called the Cherokee language.

"Interesting," I said with a smile, not wanting to make a complete fool of myself nor say anything that might upset the beautiful young woman who had come to the house to have sex with me.

"The name fits," Katy smirked. "She mostly goes by Taya and says it doesn't have a meaning." [pronounced 'TAH-yah']

"I can imagine the reaction amongst High School boys!"

"You kept a fairly straight face," Taya observed.

"That's just Jonathan," Katy said. "He's pretty much unflappable, which is almost a requirement for what he does. I described how he is in bed! Anything but calm and unflappable!"

Bianca let us know dinner was ready, so the three of us went to the table while she and Juliette brought in our meal -- chimichangas, refried beans, jalapeño rice, and «bolillos», small loaves of Mexican bread.

"Do you guys eat like this every night?" Taya asked.

"Everyone in the house can cook pretty well," Bianca replied. "So yes."

"Bianca's the best, though," I said. "I really like Mexican food. Kristy does Italian, Jack is very much steaks and burgers, and Keiko makes awesome fish dishes."

"What about you?" Katy asked.

"A bit of everything," I replied. "Mostly the things my mom and I ate. Fried chicken is my specialty, plus things like spaghetti or mac and cheese."

"He has other uses that make up for any deficiencies in the kitchen," Bianca smirked.

The three other girls all laughed, and we continued eating. During dinner, I learned a bit more about Taya -- her family was originally from Oklahoma, but had moved to Chicago when her dad, an electrical engineer, had been hired at Bell Labs in Naperville just before Taya started High School.

She was, as Katy had related, an honor student and class valedictorian and had a full-ride scholarship to Princeton in the computer science program. She was planning a minor in electrical engineering and wanted to work on computer networks. That revelation had led to a detailed, technical conversation with Bianca about computers and networks that mostly went over my head.

When we finished eating, I offered to help clean up, but Bianca laughed and said I had other things to attend to.

"Just wait here for a few minutes, OK?" Katy requested. "We want to change."

"OK," I replied, remembering the sexy teddy Katy had worn the first time we were together.

I waited a full five minutes, then went up to my room. The door was closed, so I knocked once, then opened it, stepped inside, and shut the door behind me. Katy had on the same red teddy I remembered, while Taya had put on a white lace teddy.

"You're both gorgeous," I said, admiring Katy's curvy form and Taya's athletic one. "What's your pleasure?"

"Taya's straight and isn't interested in experimenting," Katy said, "so we'll just take turns. Start with sixty-nine until you cum, sixty-nine to get you hard, then fuck with you on top, repeat with the girl on top, and continue until you either can't go again or have to go to sleep!"

"As long as I get to sleep by 12:30am, I'll be fine. I have to wake up around 5:30am."

"Does that give us enough time for a joint shower in the morning?"

"I can skip eating breakfast and have a banana, an apple, and a Pop-Tart at my desk."

"Cool!"

"Who's first?" I asked.

"Me!" Katy declared. "I set it up, so I have dibs!"

"May I make one modification?" I asked.

"Sure! What?"

"Allow me to play with your breasts before each sixty-nine!"

Katy laughed softly, "Oh, I suppose!"

As we had her first time when Esme had watched, Katy and I made out for a bit, then undressed. I kissed, licked, and sucked Katy's nipples, then, instead of a blowjob like the first time, we engaged in sixty-nine. I managed to give Katy two good orgasms with my tongue before my cum spurted into her mouth. She released me, turned, and we exchanged a deep French kiss, mixing the small amount of my cum on her tongue with her juices on mine. When we broke the kiss, I went to the bathroom to wash my face and groin out of deference to Taya, given Katy's statement about Taya being straight.

I sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned Taya to sit in my lap, which she did. We started with a soft kiss that tasted of green apple lip gloss, quite different from Katy's cherry lip gloss. After several minutes of French kissing and fondling, I pushed the straps of Taya's teddy off her shoulders. It fell away to reveal small, perfectly formed breasts with dark brown nipples.

I lowered my mouth, took one small nipple into my mouth, and sucked gently, causing Taya to moan softly. Her breasts were much smaller than Katy's, but they were absolutely beautiful. I savored each breast, then we moved onto the bed, with me on my back. Taya turned, straddled my face, and lowered her plump labia to my mouth.

I felt her lips touched my glans and pressed my tongue into her dripping pussy, enjoying the distinct taste of her juices. It continued to fascinate me that every girl had a slightly distinct flavor and that I'd never found one I didn't find intoxicating. I lapped up Taya's juices, then tongued her clit, causing her to moan as she ran her soft tongue around my glans and shaft.

It was obvious from the way Taya was pleasuring me that she was in absolutely no rush. She continued licking and kissing as I pleasured her, and it was better than five minutes before she took me into her mouth and began an expert, exquisite, slow, sensual blowjob. Taya bobbed slowly, licked, and sucked as I teased her clit with my tongue. Her slow-motion blowjob meant she'd receive pleasure from me for an extended time.

Taya received full advantage of the extra time, having three orgasms before she began earnestly trying to bring me off. The pleasure was intense, and when I twitched, Taya began stroking me with her hand while she sucked on my glans and swirled her tongue around it.

Twenty seconds later, I groaned and pulsed, and the first spurt of cum jetted into Taya's mouth. She pressed her pussy hard against my face, and I sucked hard on her clit and lashed it with my tongue as I fired jet after jet of cum into Taya's mouth. Just as my orgasm had run its course, Taya had her fourth, moaning as she bobbed, ensuring she licked up every bit of my cum.

She released me, turned, and we exchanged a fierce French kiss as she ground against me, her soft pubic hair tickling my slowly deflating shaft. She gave herself an additional orgasm before she broke the kiss and moved off me, lying on her back next to me, breathing hard but not gasping.

"Ten minutes?" Katy asked.

"That should be enough," I replied.

She came over, winked, and kissed me, tasting, I was sure, a hint of Taya's juices. I was positive she'd instruct me not to wash after Taya and I fucked, and I wondered what Taya might think about that. It was possible, of course, that they'd discussed it, and I'd leave that to the girls to decide or object.

When Katy broke the kiss, she got into bed next to me, on the other side from Taya. The three of us lay together for about ten minutes before Katy moved on top of me, kissed me deeply, then turned so we could sixty-nine to get me hard. It didn't take long, and once I was fully erect, Katy and I moved so I was on top of her, and Taya sat up so she could watch.

"Go slow to start," Katy requested. "Then fuck my brains out."

I smiled, grasped my shaft, rubbed my glans along Katy's soaked labia, and slowly entered her, using a series of very gentle thrusts to bury myself in her silky pussy. Katy wrapped her legs around me, and I complied with her request and began fucking her with slow, gentle strokes as we kissed softly. Katy matched my motions, and I ground against her every five strokes, giving her an orgasm, which caused her to move in such a way as to indicate she wanted me to begin moving faster and harder.

We increased our rhythm with each successive orgasm so that after her third, we were fucking HARD, with Katy throwing her body at me with reckless abandon, grunting each time I pushed fully into her. Five minutes of that led to my inevitable release, and I pushed deep, ground against Katy's mons, and pumped cum deep into her spasming pussy as she had her fourth orgasm.

When it finally passed, I kissed her again and gently pulled out, moving next to her, both of us breathing heavily from the exertion. We lay together for about five minutes before she rolled towards me, put her arm on my chest and her leg across mine, and snuggled close.

We lay like that for about ten minutes, at which point I got up so I could wash my face and groin once again. When I returned to the bedroom, Katy was sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed, and Taya was lying on her side. I walked over to the bed and lay next to Taya, who was on my right, with the large wet spot Katy and I had created to my left.

"Same as Katy," Taya requested as she moved on top of me. We kissed for a few minutes before she turned, pressed her pussy to my mouth, and began using her tongue to get me hard. The initial blowjob had been so good that I actually considered trying to will myself not to get hard too quickly, but I knew that if she screwed half as well as she performed oral sex, it would be an amazing fuck.

I'd already cum three times, so I didn't get too hard too fast, allowing me to enjoy the sensation of her tongue, but eventually, I became fully erect, and we moved so that I was lying between Taya's legs with her heels on my calves. I kissed her, grasped my shaft, and slowly pushed into her tight, slick tunnel. Taya blew out a huge breath as I penetrated her and worked myself into her with slow, gentle strokes.

"Wow!" she gasped when I was fully embedded in her tight confines.

"Yeah," I agreed and began moving slowly.

Taya matched each gentle thrust with a perfectly timed thrust of her own, and as I had with Katy, I ground against Taya's mons for about twenty seconds after every five strokes. As we screwed in slow motion, Taya moved her heels further up my legs, spreading herself wider, allowing me to go even deeper.

Taya had her first orgasm, and replicating what I'd done before, we began moving faster until we were fucking hard, and Taya's legs were wrapped around my lower back. She was even more energetic than Katy, and I had the impression that had her legs not been locked around me, she'd have bucked me off despite the fact that I outweighed her by at least seventy pounds.

Each of Taya's four successive orgasms had squeezed me tighter, and the fifth one, which started when I fired the first jet of cum into her, made it almost impossible to move, not that I wanted to. Her muscles milked the cum from me, giving me an intensely pleasurable release, which came to an end all too soon, given how good it had felt.

Taya didn't move her arms or legs, so I stayed on top of her, and we kissed until I began to soften, at which point she released me. I rolled onto my back, and she turned to snuggle just as Katy had.

"Amazing," Taya said breathlessly.

"Yeah," I agreed, breathing very hard.

We lay together for about twenty minutes, as I'd cum four times already, so I knew I'd need a slightly longer time to reload. I decided, as Taya and I lay together, that I'd only wash if Katy suggested it, or Taya expressed any discomfort with the idea.

"I could use something to drink," Katy said. "I'll borrow your robe and get us some pop."

Taya and I both asked for Orange Crush, and Katy put on my robe, left the room, and returned two minutes later with three bottles, handing one to each of us, then setting hers down so she could remove my robe which she was wearing. The three of us sat cross-legged on the bed to drink, carefully avoiding the two large wet spots.

"Could I make a special request?" Katy asked.

"What did you have in mind?" I inquired.

"You're obviously free to say 'no', but you got two of my cherries, and I want you to have the third. It's something I've never done, but I feel comfortable trying it with you -- will you fuck me in the ass?"

My first reaction was to say 'no', but then I remembered what I'd be doing with Deanna and CeCi the next two nights, and despite it not being my favorite activity or one that I sought out, I could fulfill that request. Whether I actually wanted to or not was a different question altogether.

"Not to be indelicate or pry, but I thought that might have happened at Princeton."

"Believe it or not, that's the one thing I haven't done. One of the guys suggested it, and I turned him down, but later on, I became curious, though not curious enough to do it. Esme and I talked about it and agreed we'd try it at some point."

"Together? In other words, will she be upset?"

"Jealous, for sure, but not upset. She knew I was going to call you and was disappointed that she'd be in Texas, but she knew you and Keiko were eventually going to be a couple."

"Have you done that before?" Taya asked, speaking up for the first time since we'd finished screwing -- well, except for saying 'Orange Crush' when Katy had offered to get drinks.

"I have," I replied. "I think the best thing to say is that it's different, and I only did it because a girl wanted to try it."

That wasn't completely accurate because Jeri had surprised me the first time, but I'd done it at her insistence on other occasions. It was true, though, that Deanna and CeCi had asked because they wanted to try it.

"I did ask someone about it," Katy said, "and I have lubricant in my bag. I wasn't a hundred percent sure, but now I am. If you're willing."

"You're really going to do that?" Taya asked, confirming my suspicion that Katy hadn't discussed it with her in advance.

"If Jonathan will. What do you say, Jonathan?"

It was my 'last fling', and that changed the picture slightly, even considering my plans with Deanna and CeCi, which was actually more about them doing it to me than the other way around. Katy was expressing serious trust in asking me to do it, and it seemed right to repay that trust by honoring her request.

"if you really want to, I will," I said.

"I do. Maybe Taya will want to try it after she watches!"

"Maybe I will!" Taya exclaimed.

LXIII. It Could Also Be A Lot Worse; A Whole Lot Worse

June 20, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"That was the weirdest thing I've ever done!" Katy exclaimed when we finished.

She had, as I'd suspected she would, not requested I wash before we engaged in sixty-nine to get me hard so that I could fulfill her request, which I'd done with slow, deliberate strokes, not prolonging it given she'd never done anal before.

"That was my reaction the first time I did it," I said.

"I want to try it," Taya said. "But I also want to screw again. Could we do that in the morning, before our shower?"

I looked at the clock, and because it was just before 11:00pm, I felt I could get enough sleep, even waking up thirty minutes early.

"Yes," I replied, getting out of bed and going into the bathroom. I decided the best thing to do was take a quick shower to ensure I was completely clean. I used a copious amount of soap, rinsing and repeating, to ensure I removed any remnants of what Katy and I had done, then after drying off, went back into the bedroom.

"Can I change my request?" Taya asked.

"Nobody is compelled to do anything," I replied.

She laughed softly, "I still want to, but after you give me an orgasm with your tongue, we screw until I have an orgasm, then do me in the butt. But still once more in the morning, and it should go as long as possible."

"Whatever you want," I replied. "No objections, Katy?"

"No. I'm OK if she gets something extra!"

Taya and I began by kissing, but rather than immediately move to sixty-nine, I kissed, licked, and sucked on her nipples for several minutes, worshiping her perfect breasts. Given what I knew would be a longer recovery time, I slid down and used my mouth to bring Taya off. I was sorely tempted to ask her to give me a blowjob because her mouth felt that good, but, as always, it was about what the girl wanted because there was no chance of me not cumming, no matter what we did.

I was hard by the time Taya had her orgasm, and at my encouragement, she turned and mounted me, slowly sliding down my shaft, then grinding against me until she had an orgasm. She lifted off, then lay on her stomach. I used the lube Katy had brought with her to liberally coat my shaft and glans, then spread her firm, toned butt cheeks with my hand to expose her rear entrance.

I rubbed my glans along her rear, had her take a few deep breaths and relax her muscles, then pushed forward. Taya groaned loudly when my glans popped past her tight ring, so I stopped and waited.

"OK," she gasped about thirty seconds later.

I used short, slow strokes to work myself into her, with Taya grunting each time I pushed forward. A dozen strokes later, I was fully embedded in her very, very tight butt and once again simply lay still, waiting for her to relax and become accustomed to the invasion.

"Go slow," she gasped.

I pulled back a bit, then pushed forward again, repeating the motion, and pulling back a bit further each time, until about twenty strokes later, I was pulling back so that just my glans was in her butt, then slowly pushing forward until I was fully embedded. Taya snaked her hand under her and began rubbing her clit, just as Katy had done when she and I had done this same thing.

"Don't...cum...too...soon," Taya requested, breathing heavily.

Whereas Katy had, in my estimation, tolerated me being in her butt, Taya appeared to be enjoying it. And if she was enjoying it, I was going to do my best to increase her enjoyment, despite my own desire to finish relatively quickly, as I had with Katy.

"Go harder," Taya requested about five minutes later.

I did, though it was still slow and gentle compared to the athletic screwing we'd done earlier in the evening. Taya had three very good orgasms over the next ten minutes, and to my surprise, the sensations for me were extremely pleasurable, though different from being in her pussy.

"You can cum any time," she gasped after her third orgasm.

I stopped trying to control my pleasure, changed my motions a bit, and two minutes later, pushed deep into Taya's butt and groaned as I blasted her full of cum. When my orgasm had passed, I stroked five more times, then carefully pulled out and went straight to the shower to clean up.

When I returned, I changed the alarm clock, then asked the girls to help me change the sheets. After we had fresh, clean sheets on the bed, we climbed in, with one girl snuggled on each side of me.

"You really got into that, Taya," Katy observed.

"I surprised myself!" Taya exclaimed. "I'm pretty sure I'll do that again. You?"

"At least once," Katy said. "It didn't do much for me, but I want to try it with two guys, one in front and one in back. I'm pretty sure that's what Jonathan had expected I'd done."

"Given you've had threesomes with two guys, it was a logical conclusion," I replied.

"As I said, it was about trust, and I knew you wouldn't react badly if I'd asked you to stop or had changed my mind at the last minute. I didn't realize you'd done it and weren't into it."

"Oh, he was 'into it' alright!" Taya teased.

Katy and I both laughed.

"Yes, he was!" Katy declared. "And I absolutely made the right decision, both the first time with him and tonight. Giving him all my cherries was exactly the right thing to do!"

"For sure," Taya agreed. "Giving him all my cherries was absolutely the right thing for me to do, too!"

The only word for the feeling I had was 'shock' because nothing about Taya had said 'virgin' -- not her comfort with the situation, not the way she screwed, and absolutely not the way she gave blowjobs. I almost couldn't believe it, but she had no reason to lie, so I was positive she was being truthful.

"Then I am the most privileged man on the planet!" I declared.

"You don't have to answer," Katy said, "but you couldn't tell?"

"No, I couldn't," I replied. "The physical evidence is pretty rare after age fifteen from what I've read and heard, and Taya wasn't nervous or tentative, and she clearly knew what she was doing."

"Katy gave me pointers," Taya said. "She knew, but I asked her not to say anything because I didn't want you to behave differently."

"I reassured her you wouldn't," Katy said. "But she decided it was best not to say anything."

"As I've said to others, it's not my business, and all that matters is being truthful about anything the girl chooses to reveal. She doesn't have to reveal anything, though I'd be very upset if she didn't reveal she was in a committed relationship. I don't brook infidelity at all."

"Does Keiko know we're here?" Katy asked.

"Yes. This is my last fling, so to speak, before we commit to each other. Keiko had no objection because of the way our relationship started and how it progressed."

"Mind telling me?" Taya inquired.

"A circumstance similar to this one. A friend told her about our encounters, and Keiko decided to take the opportunity. What was supposed to be a purely casual encounter turned into something special."

"Three years from now, that might have been me," Katy said. "But no way before I graduate from college!"

"A common sentiment," I replied. "And a wise one for anyone who wants to go to college."

"You don't have a degree?" Taya asked.

"No. I've taken evening classes, but securities licenses are far more important than an undergrad degree in my field. I hold Series 3 and Series 7 licenses, which means I can broker anything except real estate and life insurance."

"Katy said you did research and analysis."

"That's my primary role at the moment because I'm learning about the industry. I also trade my own account and have a fund I manage, mostly for friends, but I also have a few other clients."

"I don't know, Katy," Taya said, "if he weren't effectively taken, I think I'd consider it, even though I'm only eighteen!"

Katy laughed softly, "A big dick and a big wallet? Not to mention being a great guy? I hear you, but I am not ready to settle down!"

"Because you're having so much fun at Princeton," I said. "And it's going to be even MORE fun with Esme and Taya there!"

"Truth!" Katy declared. "We should probably get to sleep."

She reached over and turned off the bedside lamp, then snuggled close, and the three of us fell asleep fairly quickly.

June 21, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

We woke with the alarm on Tuesday morning, Taya used her mouth to get me hard, then mounted me and rode me gently, giving herself two orgasms, before we switched to the missionary position and had a long, slow screw. When we finished, the three of us went to the shower, where Katy and Taya washed me, and then I washed each of them in turn, something I very much enjoyed doing.

"I know it's unlikely," Katy said as we dressed, "but feel free to call anytime over the Summer."

Taya expressed the same sentiment when she sang...

Call me on the line

Call me, call me any, anytime

Call me, I'll arrive

You can call me any day or night

Call me

"Jonathan's Stud Service?" Katy teased.

"Anytime, anyplace, anywhere, any day, any way!" Taya exclaimed.

We went downstairs, I grabbed an apple, a banana, and a Pop-Tart, and then the three of us left the house with Bianca and Jack. Taya and Katy each gave me a hug and kiss, then got into Katy's car. Once they'd pulled out of the driveway, Jack, Bianca, and I got into my car and headed for the office.

"Is that girl American Indian?" Jack asked.

"Cherokee," I replied.

"Smoking hot!" he said, shaking his head.

"Does Jonathan have any that aren't?" Bianca asked with a smirk.

"Now that you mention it," Jack chuckled. "Including you!"

"Kristy is pretty hot," I said.

"Hey, that wasn't a complaint, just an observation! Just because the store is closed doesn't mean I can't window shop!"

Not to mention occasional threesomes with Allyson, about which I was positive he'd never complain! I wondered how Allyson would react to the news about me and Keiko, but I suspected she already knew, given how close she and Kristy were.

"Fortunately for us," I said, "neither Kristy nor Keiko is the jealous, overly-possessive type."

"I'd say, given Keiko gave her blessing for you and Bianca to have a baby! It's going to be totally weird having a baby in the house!"

"More for me than you!" Bianca declared mirthfully. "And it's not like we place an order and 'presto' a baby shows up!"

"I very much enjoy the ordering process," I chuckled.

"Who doesn't?!" Bianca asked.

When we arrived at the office, I quickly completed my usual morning routine, eating my makeshift breakfast as I worked. The morning was occupied with currency research, and at 11:30am, I left to meet Marcia for lunch.

"I decided to apply for a job with Charles Hayes' office," Marcia said after we had ordered and she'd asked about Keiko.

"I think that's a wise idea. Can you do anything before the election?"

"I spoke to the woman who's going to be his Chief of Staff, and she expressed interest, but no promises can be made before the election."

"What role did you express interest in?"

"Manager for his legislative office," Marcia said. "I think I have a decent shot, given my experience and education. I also have a strong recommendation letter from Mayor Washington, which he wrote after he was elected, but before I was offered my current role."

"Do you think he'd be bothered by you leaving?"

"I doubt he cares, really," Marcia replied. "I mean, given all the other stuff that's going on, housing is not his biggest concern, not to mention we're basically under federal control."

"Then I think that's a very good move on your part all around. I'd have suggested it even if it caused problems with the Mayor, simply because you have to look out for your own best interests and let him worry about his."

"That does make sense," Marcia agreed. "Changing topics, could we go out sometime?"

"We could, but it would be just as friends because I ordered rings for Keiko and me."

"You asked her to marry you?!"

"Informally, yes. The rings will be exchanged at a Japanese ceremony where we'll formally get engaged."

"Not to be negative, but her diagnosis is unclear, so why?"

"Because there are never any guarantees, and we don't ever know what will happen in the future. Remember, my dad got on a routine flight from Chicago to Kansas City, and the plane was blown up by a crazy person hoping his wife would collect insurance."

"OK, but in your case, you know there's a good chance of a negative outcome."

"Which doesn't mean no chance of a positive outcome. I can't change how I feel about Keiko simply because she's sick. Think about the vows used in most weddings."

"OK, but...no, never mind. You make a good point. It's just...well, no, forget that too. Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"Who knows?"

"My housemates and a few close friends, which now includes you. We don't know the exact timing of the ceremony because the rings are coming from Japan."

"Already flaunting your wealth?" Marcia asked though she said it in a friendly way with a smile.

"I will not apologize for using money I've earned to make Keiko happy, nor, to be honest, for using it to make ME happy. And while I don't feel I have to justify this to you, I will say that the two rings certainly cost less than even a small diamond engagement ring, which she doesn't want."

"Sorry," Marcia said quietly. "I was out of line."

"I understand your general point, but what you don't seem to accept is that my tax burden will be significant, and I pay it on all realized gains. If you don't think it's enough, that's for Congress and the President to fix. Maybe the number should be higher, and if our elected representatives change it, I'll pay it because I need public services and feel it's my obligation to pay my fair share. If I were cheating, that would be a different thing altogether."

"I know," Marcia replied. "I was being catty because...well, I'm sure you know I wanted to keep seeing you and thought we might find a way."

"What?" I asked with a smile. "And participate in my quest to gain piles of filthy lucre and fill my basement with gold coins in which we would swim?"

Marcia laughed softly, "OK, I deserved that. And you are not Scrooge McDuck."

"I'm sorry if things didn't work out the way you had hoped, but my hope is that we can remain friends. And if it doesn't offend your progressive sensibilities, I'd like you to start investing, which you can do with as little as $500 and then $100 a month in my fund. You can get filthy rich in the process!"

Marcia laughed, "I don't think that small of an investment will make me filthy rich!"

"Want to bet?" I asked.

"No, because I wouldn't bet against you on anything financial."

"If you started with $500, then added $100 a month, and did so for thirty years, at the passbook rate, you'd only have around $90,000. If, on the other hand, you earned 20% returns, which is typical for Spurgeon but not guaranteed, you'd have just under $2,000,000 when you're ready to retire."

"NO WAY!" Marcia gasped.

"It's basic investment math with compound interest. Granted, it discounts inflation and taxes, but the worst-case scenario there would be having about a million bucks. And all you have to do is put away $100 a month. Granted, we might not earn 20% every year, but if that's the average, the numbers hold. Even at 15%, you'd have over half a mil."

"Wait! 5% makes that much difference?"

"Yes, because of compounding. But either way, you only put away $36,500. And if you increase your monthly investment, it's even better. But seriously, even putting it in a passbook at 5¼%, you'd double your money by retirement. And that would supplement Social Security or any other pension or retirement plan."

"That's just crazy!"

"It's math, and if more people understood it, retirement would be better for nearly everyone. As I was taught in school, Social Security was meant to supplement your own savings and investment and any pension, but it hasn't worked out that way. And no, I'm not advocating to privatize it or anything like that, just advocating for a way to ensure you have a comfortable retirement."

"I've been pretty strident about it, haven't I?"

"There's nothing wrong with being a strong advocate for your beliefs," I replied. "My only objection is when you impugn my motives and suggest that making money is somehow evil. It's not. Remember, compared to my childhood, you lived in the lap of luxury. I don't hold that against you, nor do I think it was 'unfair' or 'evil' or whatever."

"Getting on your case constantly probably wasn't the best strategy for success."

"Probably not," I agreed.

"I'll get you a check for $500," she said.

"I'll fax you the forms you need to fill out, and you can give them back to me with the check."

"OK. Have you and Keiko set a date?"

"No. We'll do that once we exchange rings."

We had a nice lunch, then I headed back to work. There was nothing too exciting going on in the world, and most of our trades were on behalf of clients or arbitrage between exchanges, but my gold and silver positions were approaching the point where I'd close them out. They weren't quite to my price target, and I didn't see any risk of holding the positions open for the time being.

I was happy with my stock holdings, as they were performing well, though none of them had reached a point where I was ready to lock in the profits. According to my spreadsheet, my projected annual return, if my gold and silver plays worked as I expected them to, would be 22%. I felt that was a respectable annual return, especially given the comparatively limited assets I controlled.

Bev called mid-afternoon to let me know that her dad's angioplasty had gone well, but she had only spoken to a doctor, not directly to her dad. I encouraged her once again to get in touch with her parents, but she pushed back, so I dropped it. I asked her to keep me posted about her dad's condition, which she promised to do. She also said that she and Glen would attend the Cubs game, which I felt was a good thing.

Late in the afternoon, I received a call from Beth, and after I explained about Keiko and me, we agreed to have lunch on Thursday. At the end of the day, Bianca and I headed to Rush-Presbyterian to see Keiko, who was going a bit stir-crazy from being in the hospital. I sympathized, as I couldn't imagine that I'd have dealt well with that kind of confinement. The only plus was that she was allowed to walk outside, which we did before Bianca and I left the hospital to head home for dinner.

"She seems in good spirits, considering," Bianca observed once we were in the car.

"She is," I agreed.

"I'm going to ask this as your closest confidante, but did you propose to her to give her a future to look forward to?"

"The answer to that question is 'yes', but probably not the way you meant it. I didn't do it cynically, nor was it an attempt to make her happy, nor an attempt to brighten her day in the sense of manipulation. It also wasn't out of pity or with some perverse thought that it was only temporary. All that happened was that I did what I should have done in April because I was positive back then Keiko was the person I wanted to be with for the rest of my life."

"That was a pretty strong response that might otherwise generate the comment 'he doth protest too much, methinks', but I know you well enough to know that's not the case."

"I won't deny that I know the worst-case scenario, nor will I deny that asking Keiko to marry me raises her spirits and gives her a reason to fight her leukemia no matter what, but those are benefits, not justifications. I don't want to lose Keiko, either through foolish neglect or stubborn procrastination, nor do I want to lose her to leukemia."

"I hope you'll believe me when I say that was the answer I expected, but I felt I had to ask to make sure."

"I expect you to challenge me and help me see angles I might not otherwise see. I won't ever take anything you say personally, and all advice is good, even if I evaluate the advice and choose not to follow it. And that goes for work and our personal life."

"I'm very happy with how things have worked out," Bianca said, "even if I had a slightly different plan in mind."

"I honestly believe this is the best plan for everyone involved," I said. "Keiko, you, me, and our future children."

"The best chance to place an order will be next week. How do you feel we go about it without transgressing Keiko's limitations?"

"I think making love each day, but not sleeping together except for Thursdays, fits her views."

"But only once per night?"

"Her point, as I understand it, is that we're not to focus on the pleasure, but otherwise, we're cleared to do what we think is best for conceiving."

"Bummer for you!" Bianca smirked. "Blowjobs are out of the question!"

"I'll live," I chuckled. "Is there any time that's better than others?"

"There are all manner of opinions, and I think the best approach is mornings before work and evenings after dinner, if we can manage that."

"OK. I've been thinking about how things should be after Friday, and I think we make our baby in your bed, and I spend the nights with CeCi or Deanna in their rooms until that ends when Keiko and I exchange rings."

"'Your' bed is yours and Keiko's?"

"I think that sends the correct message and shows I'm not abusing the freedom she's given me when we're engaged in every way except the formality of exchanging rings."

"How was last night?" Bianca asked, with an arched eyebrow.

"Enjoyable."

"Katy's friend was drop-dead gorgeous!"

"And, unfortunately for you, completely straight!"

When we arrived home, we could go in the back door, as the construction had been completed as planned. Everything looked great, and when we went into the house, Kristy confirmed that the work had passed inspection and she'd turned over the check to Marcus. Bianca and I went upstairs to change and then returned downstairs to set the table for dinner, which Kristy and Jack had prepared.

When Deanna and CeCi arrived home, they changed their clothes, and we all sat down to eat. After we ate, Bianca and I did the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen, and then Deanna, CeCi, and I went up to my room.

"It's your plan," I said to CeCi. "What's first?"

"We discussed it and decided you were probably right about it being extreme," she replied. "Tonight, we'll just recreate the movie scene, once for each of us, in each position. Then tomorrow night, double penetration, but just once each, with Deanna and me using the strap-on in the other's butt."

"That is quite a bit less extreme!" I replied.

"We know you're uncomfortable with the whole idea, and what I suggested was more than a bit crazy."

"How do we start?"

"You fuck Deanna, and I'll use the strap-on on you, then we switch to you fucking me and Deanna using the strap-on on you. Then I fuck Deanna with the strap-on, and you do me in the butt, then finally, Deanna fucks me with the strap-on, and you do her in the butt. Then we sleep! Tomorrow night you and I fuck with me on top, and Deanna does me in the butt, then we switch."

"You're cool with the plan, Deanna?" I asked.

"Totally! Let me go get my toy from my room!"

She left to go up to the attic and returned a minute later with a bag. She shut and locked the door, then pulled out a harness and a fake rubber dick, which, thankfully, was much smaller than my real one. She set them on the bed, along with a tube of lubricant, and we all got undressed.

I watched CeCi step into the harness with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, then went to Deanna and took her into my arms. We kissed for a bit, then moved to the bed, where she quickly got me hard with her mouth, then turned on her back so I could move between her legs. I grasped my shaft, rubbed my glans along her labia, then slowly pushed into her.

Once I was fully embedded, I felt the bed move, and CeCi straddled me. I willed myself to relax but tensed when I felt the lubricated dildo move between my butt cheeks. I felt some pressure, took a deep breath, let it out, and relaxed enough to allow CeCi to push into me.

"Ungh," I grunted as the dildo slipped past my sphincter.

I didn't move, and CeCi slowly pushed the six-inch fake dick completely into my butt.

"Damn..." I groaned.

"You OK?" she asked.

"For certain definitions of 'OK'," I replied.

CeCi waited a minute to allow me to get accustomed to the dildo, then began sliding in and out. I groaned and grunted with each stroke, and after six strokes, I began moving opposite to her so that I pulled back from Deanna as CeCi moved forward and forward as CeCi moved back. The rhythm took a bit of trial and error for us to get right, but eventually, we were in sync.

It was the strangest feeling I'd ever had, and I was very happy the girls had modified their plans, as I didn't like it and didn't enjoy it. I tried to focus on Deanna, but with CeCi sliding in and out of my butt, that was impossible. Not wanting to prolong the experience, I didn't try to hold back, and after Deanna had an orgasm, I allowed my pleasure to build until the point of no return.

I pushed deep into Deanna and ground against her as cum spurted from my dick. CeCi, in response, pushed as deeply into me as she could and moved the dildo around inside me, and as the last spurt of cum jetted into Deanna, my pleasure became extremely intense. I had no idea what had happened, but something CeCi had done had stimulated something, and I groaned loudly in pleasure.

We all lay still for a few minutes before CeCi pulled out of me, and I pulled out of Deanna.

"What did you think?" CeCi asked.

"That was, without question, the weirdest thing I've ever done, and it felt really strange. Then, right at the end, something happened, and the intensity of my orgasm increased dramatically."

"The girl at the store said that stimulating the prostate makes orgasms more intense for some guys," Deanna said.

"Changed your mind?" CeCi asked with a silly smile.

"No! Obviously, Deanna gets her turn, but I'm not particularly interested in doing it again after that."

CeCi went into the bathroom to clean off the dildo, and when she returned, Deanna put it on, and we repeated the activities, with the girls having switched positions. This time, the extra stimulation happened just before my orgasm, making it so intense I felt as if I was going to pass out. Even with that, I wasn't interested in prolonging the experience or trying it again.

"Let me fuck Deanna for a few minutes before you put it in me," CeCi requested.

I watched in fascination as CeCi, wearing the strap-on, entered Deanna, and they began fucking gently. I grew hard simply watching them but waited until Deanna had an orgasm before slathering lube on my shaft and glans. I moved onto the bed, straddled the girls' legs, and positioned myself with my glans against CeCi's rear entrance. I felt her relax and pushed firmly, popping past her tight ring.

"Fuuuuucccckkkkk!" she groaned.

"You OK?"

"Yeah," she gasped. "Keep going."

I worked myself into her, and, as we had before, we managed to sync our rhythms. Not wanting to prolong the experience, I didn't fight the intense pressure that CeCi's tight butt put on my shaft and glans, and seven minutes after we started, I came hard. I pulled out, washed myself in the shower, and when I returned to the bed, the girls switched positions. Just under ten minutes later, I came in Deanna's butt. We separated, and all three of us went into the bathroom to shower.

"I think I'm with Jonathan on that one," Deanna said. "An experiment I probably won't repeat. Well, receiving! The giving part was OK and actually exciting!"

"The truly exciting part was watching you two screw," I said. "That was erotic!"

"I was totally turned on by fucking Deanna," CeCi said. "And, honestly, I'd do anal again. Dee, are you still OK with the double penetration tomorrow night?"

"Yes," Deanna replied. "Once as an experiment, but it's not my cup of tea."

"Same here," I said. "But I don't regret doing the experiment."

We finished in the shower, dried off, changed the sheets, then climbed into bed with Deanna and CeCi on either side of me. CeCi turned out the lamp, both girls snuggled close, and we fell soon asleep.

June 22, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Wednesday was a normal day at work, which included my usual trip to the gym, and at 5:00pm, I left the office to visit Keiko.

"The hot tub, deck, and fire pit are all set," I said. "I thought about inviting people over for the 3rd, but with what Doctor Morrison said about crowds, I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"If you want to do that, I can just stay in my room," Keiko said.

"I really don't like the idea of excluding you or doing something that means you have to stay in your room."

"I don't mind," Keiko replied. "You're doing so much for me, and I want you to keep living your life in a way that makes you happy. Having your friends at the house makes you happy, and it won't hurt me in any way. I'll ask Doctor Morrison in the morning and see what he thinks. Maybe I can go outside for a few minutes with a mask. Call it a calculated risk."

I smiled, "If I debate that with you, you'll point to our kisses during each visit, won't you?"

"Yes! I also want to sleep in the same bed with you as often as we can for the next two weeks."

"I decided, as of Friday, that our bed is ours, so you're welcome there any night. If I decide to be with CeCi or Deanna, it'll be in their beds, and Bianca and I will use her bed for procreation purposes."

Keiko laughed, "You are allowed to enjoy it! And for the next few weeks, playtime is permitted!"

"I don't want to disrespect you," I said. "Or do anything you think might harm our relationship."

Keiko smiled, "It's OK. We both have to adapt to the reality of the situation. It's obviously not what either of us expected."

"OK. Is everything set with your grandmother for Friday?"

"Yes. I should be home before noon."

"OK. I'm not going to go out on Friday, so I can be with you. I already let Jack know."

"This week, that's OK, but you should go out with them on Fridays."

"It doesn't make sense to try to do that after we're engaged," I replied. "You won't be able to join us, and per our agreement, I won't be seeing anyone else. I'll talk to Jack about him and I doing something together one evening a week, though not Fridays, so I don't interfere with his dates with Kristy."

"Your friends are important," Keiko said. "Please don't neglect them."

"I won't, but we'll have to figure out the correct balance."

"I think the next year will be all about finding compromises that work, given I'll likely need multiple rounds of consolidation chemo."

"I agree."

"One thing the oncology nurse suggested is that if we do sleep in the same bed, you should shower before coming to bed."

"That makes sense."

"And I do have to sleep alone for the full week I'm having chemo, plus the following week."

"I assumed that would be the case based on what Doctor Morrison had said. Is there anything specific you should or shouldn't eat?"

"Fresh fruit and whole grains, green vegetables, plus fish and chicken. He strongly suggested avoiding red meat and processed foods."

"I'll stop on the way home tomorrow to pick up some fruit and oatmeal. What kind of fruit do you prefer?"

"Bananas, Granny Smith apples, and pears. Make sure we have cinnamon and brown sugar, please, for the oatmeal."

"Brown sugar?"

"I asked. A small amount is OK. No pop, obviously, and no candy or cookies. You should get some Saltine crackers, too, please. They help settle my stomach."

"OK. I'll also get the cans of Lysol spray that we need. And, as I said, the UV air cleaner will be installed tomorrow. I actually bought the upgraded version that has an electrostatic component that zaps dust in addition to the ultraviolet light that kills viruses. Your room was thoroughly scrubbed, as was the front room, and the rest of the house was cleaned. I washed your sheets in hot water and put them back on the bed."

"I think everything is set, then. Let's take a walk before you go home to dinner."

I helped her from the bed, helped her put on her lightweight robe and a mask, and then we left the room. We used the elevator to get to the ground floor, then walked outside. We walked for about twenty minutes before we returned to Keiko's room. As was my habit, I scrubbed my face with the antibacterial soap, we exchanged a kiss, and then I headed home for dinner and my night with CeCi and Deanna.

June 23, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Thursday, I met Beth for lunch at a diner not too far from the Hancock Center, as she had more flexibility with her time away from the shop than I had away from the office.

"I was both surprised and not surprised," she said once we'd ordered. "You're being a true «mensch», which is exactly what I'd expect from you."

"How was your date with Joshua?" I asked.

"I agreed to a second one on Saturday evening."

"That's non-committal," I chuckled. "You're usually more direct."

"I like him, but I'm not sure he's the right guy. I'm also not sure he isn't. We had a good time, but it'll take more dates to decide if it's worth moving forward. The only downside is now I'm between sex partners. Well, no, there is one other downside -- we never got around to you tying me up!"

"Events kind of overtook us," I replied. "None of us -- you, Keiko, or me -- expected what happened, and now we're all reacting to it. It required all of us to adapt to a new reality."

"How is she doing? I mean, really, how is she?"

"In good spirits and mostly recovered from the chemo, but her blast count -- the number of cancer cells -- is increasing, though not at a rate where they consider the first round to be a failure. Her oncologist says all we can do now is see what happens after the first round of consolidation chemo. It should reduce her blast count further, but the key is by how much. The first round was successful but not great. If the next round has a similar result, she'll need several rounds of consolidation chemo. It's also possible she might need a bone marrow transplant."

"Those are risky, right?"

"Compared to the alternative?" I asked.

"When you put it that way, no, not really."

"Fundamentally, she's alive and is responding to the treatment. Could it be better? Sure. But it could also be a lot worse; a whole lot worse."

"That's a good outlook," Beth said. "How are things otherwise?"

"Work is busy, and I've had a few inquiries from people you've referred to me, but no bites just yet. How about you?"

"Business is good, and we appreciate the referrals."

"Before I forget, did you need one or two tickets for the Cubs game on the Fourth?"

"Two, please. I'll bring Joshua."

"Great! We're meeting outside Wrigley at 10:00am, at the 'Will Call' box."

"We'll be there!"

LXIV. What Did She Propose?

June 24, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Friday, I arranged my schedule so I could be home at 3:00pm, and when I arrived, I found Keiko and her grandmother in the front room, which my housemates had begun calling the Japanese room. I greeted Atsuko with a bow, then exchanged a quick kiss with Keiko, the first one not technically prohibited by her doctors.

"Jonathan-san," Atsuko said. "I will leave you two and return on Monday morning at 6:00am."

"«Arigatou gozaimasu»," I said, hoping I'd gotten the pronunciation which Keiko had painstakingly taught me the night before, correct.

"«どういたしまして» (Dō itashimashite)," Atsuko replied.

"Keiko-chan," I said, "I'm going to walk your grandmother to her car, and I'll be right back."

"I think I'll survive a few minutes without someone checking on me, poking me, or prodding me!"

"You allow Jonathan to care for you, Keiko-chan," Atsuko said firmly.

"Yes, «おばあちゃん» (O bāchan), I will." ("Grandmother")

Atsuko and I left the house by the back door, and I walked her to the alley where she'd parked.

"It was thoughtful of you to create that room," Atsuko said, "And your home is beautiful and bright, with flowers, very much like a Japanese home."

"Thank you."

"I know you'll take good care of Keiko, and her grandfather and I will help in every way we can."

"I appreciate it. Would a gesture of inviting her parents to the house be well received?"

"I don't see how it can hurt," Atsuko said. "My daughter-in-law is not a bad person; she just places being Japanese above all other concerns."

"I'll discuss it with Keiko and invite them."

We reached her car, I bowed once again, she got in, and once she'd driven away, I went back into the house.

"I want to invite your parents here as an olive branch to your mom."

"My grandmother's suggestion?"

"No, but I did ask her if it would be well received. She said she didn't see how it could hurt. I also need to get in touch with my grandparents, but we'd have to invite them to come here, and I'm not sure how that would go over with them."

"How could it hurt?"

"Given their religious beliefs, we're all living in sin, and in their minds, at least from what I gathered from my mom, they believe no unmarried woman should live anywhere except her parents' house. Jack and Kristy living together would offend them, to say nothing of Bianca and Juliette. I honestly don't care what they think, but why create a situation almost guaranteed to go wrong."

"So what do you want to do?"

"I think I'll call my Aunt and see if she'll host a dinner sometime in the next two weeks. You'd have to wear a mask, of course. And you know, I never asked you how you feel about how you look."

Keiko smirked, "Like I'm twelve when I'm naked! That hair fell out, too!"

"You know that wasn't what I meant!" I chuckled.

"Yes, of course, but you'll see that later, and I wanted to warn you. If you mean, am I self-conscious or uncomfortable? Not really. I don't mind wearing the scarf, and you've seen me without it. Would I prefer I had my hair? Yes, of course! But there was no way to avoid this outcome, so I simply accept it and move on. May I ask how you felt seeing me without hair?"

"You're still you," I replied. "And because I love you, I accept you as you are. Is there anything you need now?"

"No. I saw all the things you bought, and my grandmother washed my clothes and put everything away."

"I'm making dinner for you, me, and CeCi. Deanna is working, and everyone else will be out. Are you sleeping in our bed tonight?"

"I like how that sounds! 'Our bed'! And yes, of course!"

"Bianca and I discussed our plans for placing an order for a baby, and we'll start next week, once in the morning and once in the evening."

Keiko laughed softly, "Placing an order? That's cute, actually. And that's fine. And remember, until we exchange rings, you're allowed to play!"

"I think you'll discover that none of the girls will want to play because they don't want to disrespect you."

"But it's not!" Keiko protested. "It's OK, and I explained why."

"Yes, you did, but I guarantee they'll ask you, not assume, and they might not even ask and, therefore, not do anything with me."

"'Can Jonathan come out to play, Keiko?'" she said, laughing softly.

"Something like that! And maybe they will ask, but I was clear that we'd have to use their beds. I think that sent a strong message that Deanna and CeCi understood, even if they aren't proponents of monogamy."

"It's up to you until we exchange rings, but I want you to understand I have no objections."

"I do understand. Changing topics, what are we supposed to do with the kamidana?"

"On the first and fifteenth day of the month, we make offerings of rice, water, salt, and saké. The rice is cooked and eaten after it's replaced. Daily prayers would involve washing our hands and brushing our teeth, lighting the candles and a stick of incense, then clapping our hands loudly to get the attention of the «kami». After that, a simple prayer is said."

"Saké might be a problem," I said. "Nobody in the house can buy it."

"My grandfather will, I'm sure."

"OK. Is there a ritual prayer, you know, like The Lord's Prayer?"

"Yes, though it's not required to say a specific prayer. Given you can't speak Japanese, and your «kami» would speak English, we can say a simple prayer in English, then I'll say one in Japanese to honor my family's «kami». I think I know the perfect one for you -- a prayer for peace. It goes something like this..."

I know of the people living across the ocean surrounding us,

and I believe are all our brothers and sisters.

Therefore, why are there constant troubles in this world?

Why do winds and waves rise in the ocean surrounding us?

I only earnestly wish that the wind will soon puff away all the clouds which are hanging over the tops of the mountains.

"That doesn't sound like any prayer I've ever heard," I replied.

"Because you have only heard Christian prayers when invocations are given. Jewish prayers are in Hebrew, and Muslim prayers are in Arabic. I don't know any, but I suspect those are not dissimilar to the Christian ones, as they all have their origin in the Jewish Scriptures. Shinto, like Buddhism, is very different. I don't think you could say a Christian prayer, but you could say the Shinto one with no concern."

"I think so," I agreed.

"It's similar to saying «いただきます» (Itadakimasu) before a meal. You can say 'I humbly receive', but you could never say what Christians call 'Grace' because you don't believe in the Christian god."

"True," I replied. "Or any gods. And as you've explained, honor and respect are sufficient because the only thing in this house I'm ever going to worship is you!"

Keiko laughed softly, "And make an offering at my 'shrine'?"

"Cute. I should probably get dinner started."

"I can help," Keiko said. "I'm feeling good and don't want to just sit around."

"So long as you're feeling OK, that's fine."

"I am."

We made chicken stir fry and rice, and when CeCi arrived home, the three of us ate together, and CeCi volunteered to clean up. We had a quiet evening at home, and at about 9:30pm, Keiko and I went upstairs. I retrieved the UV air cleaner and, put it in my room and, turned it on, then shut the door. With the whole-house system in place, it was probably unnecessary, but I wasn't going to take any chances in that regard, and we'd need the room-sized units when the AC wasn't running.

"I'll shower with you," she said with a smile. "I don't think it's a risk, and I can make sure you're clean!"

I laughed, and we undressed, with Keiko removing her scarf as well. She was right about looking very young with her pubic hair missing, even younger than she normally looked. I took her hand and led her to the shower. We washed each other, dried with clean towels I'd put out, then got into bed. Keiko snuggled close, put her head on my chest, and sighed deeply.

About five minutes later, she moved on top of me and began grinding her mons against my pubic bone, causing an unavoidable reaction.

"Keiko," I cautioned.

"I want to," she whispered. "Please let me."

"But..."

She put her finger on my lips, "Advised against, not forbidden."

I wasn't sure it was a good idea, but I was sure Keiko would be very sad if I refused.

"Whatever you think is right," I replied.

She shifted so she could rub her labia along my shaft, but I noticed she wasn't very wet.

"You might need lube," I said quietly.

"I think so," she agreed.

She moved off me, got the lube from the drawer, slathered some on my shaft, then moved on top of me again. She once again rubbed her labia along my shaft, then grasped me and slowly impaled herself on me. She stretched out so that she was lying on top of me and simply ground against me, giving herself a pair of gentle orgasms before she began flexing her hips and squeezing her muscles so she could bring about my release, which she did about five minutes later.

"Thank you," she said.

She kissed me, stretched out on top of me, and fell asleep. It wasn't the most comfortable position for me to sleep, but I loved Keiko, and no matter what she needed, I was going to do it, so long as it wouldn't hurt her. A few minutes later, I fell asleep.

June 25, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Did you sleep OK?" Keiko asked on Saturday morning.

"Yes," I replied. "Did you like your special mattress?"

Keiko smiled, "I liked your warmth, and it made me feel safe and secure. I also missed the physical contact, which I couldn't have for the past five weeks."

"I don't want to do anything that will hurt you, but I do have one question."

"Birth control? Don't worry. I didn't have my period, and it's unlikely I'll have one for several months after the last round of chemo, and I might never again. It's unpredictable, according to the nurses."

"You don't think it's risky?"

"Not really, and please don't take this the wrong way, but chemo would stop any pregnancy if something very unlikely happened. I think it's safe to assume I can't get pregnant. And last night was very special. I don't want to be foolish, but I also needed to be with you that way last night."

"As I said, whatever you need. I assume the lack of natural lubrication was related to your chemo?"

"Yes. Another thing that may or may not recover for a long time, if ever. The nurse made that point, too. It affected saliva as well, but so long as I drink water with my meal, that's not too bad; it's just my mouth is a bit dry at times."

"Shall we shower and go to breakfast?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to leave the air cleaner in here," I said. "If you want, we could move all your things in here."

Keiko smiled, "I'd like that. Of course, when I have the second round, I have to sleep in my bed."

"I know, and we'll deal with that, but this is our room now."

Keiko smiled again, "Thanks."

We showered, dressed, and went downstairs so we could have breakfast, then hung out in the Japanese room until just before 11:00am, when I called my Aunt Wendy to ask about a dinner with my grandparents.

"How is Keiko?" she asked.

"She's basically recovered from the chemo, but she has another round starting July 18th."

"Did you want to speak to Alec?"

"Actually, I wanted to discuss an idea I had about trying to mend fences with your parents."

"What are you thinking?"

"Given Keiko's restrictions and limitations, I'd prefer not to drive all the way to Naperville, especially given it might be a very short encounter, if Grandpa Kane responds the way you and Mom think he might. Inviting them here is problematic because Jack and Kristy are living together, but more problematic is that Bianca has a female partner."

"That would be sure to set him off!"

"Exactly. If you could host a dinner on neutral ground, so to speak, that would be appreciated. Unfortunately, it would need to be before the 18th, or else we'll have trouble working around what might be monthly chemo treatments."

"For how long?"

"Until her blast count is negligible. At that point, she goes on maintenance, which is not nearly as rough. When she stays at a negligible level for a year, she's in remission, and if her count goes to zero and stays that way for five years, she's considered cured. We'll know more when we see how she responds to the next round of chemo."

"Next weekend is the Fourth; would Saturday the 9th work?"

"There's nothing on our calendar," I replied. "Let's do that if it works for your parents."

"I'll call and speak to my mom and impress on her that Dad should keep his opinions to himself."

"Thanks."

"I'm not sure it will work, but I'll try. He and Alec have tangled more than once."

"I just don't get it."

"When you believe you are in possession of 'The Truth', with a pair of capital T's, it changes your perspective of the world."

"Wonderful. Anyway, I appreciate it, and I'll wait to hear from you."

"I'll call you back this afternoon. I'll also make sure Lisa has someplace else to be. She won't mind and will probably be glad because she doesn't like my dad."

I almost asked 'who does?' but felt it would be inappropriate.

"I appreciate that, too. Thanks, Aunt Wendy."

"You're welcome!"

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, and then returned to the Japanese room and let Keiko know what had been said. At noon, we had lunch with our housemates, and after lunch, Keiko took a nap while Bianca and I went shopping.

"She seems to be doing OK," Bianca observed.

"So far, so good," I replied. "We're going to move most of her things into my room after dinner. She'll sleep with me except when she's having chemo and for the week following."

"And we're still good to go for our ordering process?"

"Yes. I plan to go back to my normal schedule because I don't need to visit the hospital, so I'll set my alarm so we have time in the morning and then after dinner. Keiko did remind me that 'playtime' is permitted until we exchange rings."

Bianca laughed, "As much as I enjoy 'playtime', it's counter-productive for us if you cum in my mouth!"

"Juliette knows about the plan, right?"

"Yes; she's on board and will accommodate. I know she'd like to join us, but I get the impression from you that you've basically become exclusive."

"I have. CeCi and Deanna both, in effect, yielded their time back to Keiko, even though she didn't insist. They aren't off limits; I just choose not to."

"Because you are, at heart, monogamous. Tell me to mind my own business, but when can you and Keiko do that again? A year or so, right?"

"Doctor Morrison's instructions were that it wasn't advisable, but he didn't forbid it."

"And Keiko wanted to last night, right?"

"Yes. Her body is so messed up, even though she feels better, that it's going to be rare, and obviously can't be for the week she has chemo or the following week when I'm not supposed to even touch her skin."

"But you'll kiss her if she asks, won't you?"

"Yes, though, just a quick touch of lips. Honestly, the risk is small, from what I've read. The real risk would be constant body contact or regular contact with saliva or other bodily fluids."

"I don't think you're cut out to be a monk."

"Well, unless you get pregnant on Monday, which we wouldn't know for two weeks, I won't be for several months. That said, I understand exactly what I'm signing up for."

"I wasn't implying you weren't, just giving you my two cents. I'll drop it."

"Don't feel you need to hold back your opinions or advice; just don't be upset if I push back. I promise I won't be upset with you for those opinions or that advice. Deal?"

"Deal."

"We should talk about names," Bianca suggested.

"Well, there's nobody in my family tree I'd like to name someone after, so I'm wide open."

"I think I know the answer to this, but do you have any concerns about ethnic names?"

"You mean Mexican? No."

"Sofía Angélica Kane Pérez?" Bianca suggested.

"So the kids have the dad's last name, then the mom's?"

"Yes. That's normal. In the US, they often hyphenate names or simply use the dad's name. Maybe it would be better to be slightly less traditional and make it Sofía Angélica Kane-Pérez, with the hyphen."

"I didn't realize that was important to you! What's your full name?"

"Legally, it's Bianca María Pérez Álvarez, but I've always gone by Bianca Pérez. The only place my full name appears is on government stuff. Sometimes, it requires an explanation, which is why I was thinking we might hyphenate the last name as Kane-Pérez. That would be her surname, and she could decide what to do when she marries and has kids."

"Boys' names are the same? Or do they reverse the order?"

"The same. For a boy, I like Nicolás Santiago."

"I don't have a problem with either of those, and we do have nine months to think about it. I can agree, provisionally, that those names are OK."

"That is such a Jonathan response!"

"Well, given I'm me, what else would you expect?"

"Nothing less than full Jonathan! And I like to be full OF Jonathan!"

"Starting Monday, twice a day!"

"We should do it twice in the evening, just to make sure!"

"'To make sure'. Uh-huh," I chuckled. "Not that I object, mind you."

We completed our shopping and stopped at the dry cleaner, then returned home. Keiko had taken a message from my Aunt Wendy, so I returned the call. She had arranged dinner with my grandparents at 6:00pm on the 9th, so I wrote that on the calendar and let Keiko know.

"How was your nap?" I asked.

"I slept for about an hour, which was what I'd planned. Did you arrange for your friends to come over on the 3rd?"

"No. I meant to ask last night what Doctor Morrison said."

"That so long as people mostly stayed outside, it wouldn't be a problem, though I should stay in a room with one of the air cleaners. He did say going outside was OK, but I have to wear a mask and not sit close to a large group."

"OK. I'll invite some people and let everyone else know they can invite a few people. We'll grill in the backyard. I take it the baseball game and Grant Park are out?"

"Unfortunately."

"I'll go make the calls," I said.

"OK."

I made the calls and let my other housemates know, and late in the afternoon, CeCi and I made dinner. After dinner, Jack and Kristy cleaned up, and Keiko and I went to the Japanese room to relax and listen to a tape of Japanese music. When it was bedtime, she and I showered together, then snuggled close in bed and fell asleep.

June 28, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Sunday had been a lazy day around the house in the morning, and I'd visited Violet in the afternoon. Monday had been a typical day at the office, as had Tuesday. On Tuesday evening, rather than heading home, I headed to Jeri's house for our monthly group dinner. As usually happened, I was the first to arrive.

"Your parents are almost never here," I observed after Karl had brought me a drink.

"That's been true for as long as I can remember. I had a nanny until I was about eight, at which point it was just Karl and Karolin, and they didn't bother me or interfere in anything. I could call for a car to go see friends, and honestly, I didn't miss my parents. They took a bit more interest when I turned thirteen and started including me in some of their plans, including fundraisers, which is when guys started hitting on me. You know the story from there, with the end result that my mom wants me to take over the Foundation."

"You never did explain why that would be such a terrible fate."

"Because it's what she wants, not what I want. I'd reconsider if you were interested in a girl who would have access to hundreds of millions of dollars, will fuck you senseless, and let you do literally anything you want, AND enjoy it!"

"I'm going to ask Keiko to marry me," I said.

"You aren't even twenty-one!" Jeri protested. "And, seriously, think about the power and control if you had two hundred million bucks to manage!"

"As we're being blunt, that's simply a different set of handcuffs. I'd trade Spurgeon being my master for the Foundation being my master. The difference is, I could formulate a reasonable exit plan from Spurgeon, but not from the Foundation. It's the same trap you want to avoid. The difference is, in your 'power couple' scenario, you'd be free because you believe I could help you move your mom aside."

"Interesting analysis," Jeri said.

"I do want to remind you that you said I wasn't powerful enough to take on your mom."

"If we were a couple, you would be, or rather we would be."

"I know you think that's the right course of action, but I love Keiko, and I'm going to marry her. You and I will make a lot of money together."

Jeri smiled ruefully, "I had to give it one last try. You're not the type to ever cheat, which, by the way, means you don't fit in at Spurgeon."

"I'll take that as a compliment. I avoid the coke, too."

"But not the underage pussy," she smirked. "Though I was sixteen, not fourteen."

"A momentary weakness, never to be repeated, and that would be true even if Keiko and I weren't getting engaged."

"Not tempted by smoking hot fifteen-year-olds?"

"Not even a little bit."

"Miss Crowley," Karl announced as Allyson walked in.

He brought her a drink, and then I heard the doorbell ring, and Nelson, Gary, and Pete were all announced and walked in together. They were all served drinks, and we made small talk before Karl called us for dinner. We each shared what was going on with our jobs or with school, and I made some mental notes about some things Pete had said about the banking sector, especially with Savings & Loans, so-called 'Thrifts'. According to Pete, there were concerns about non-performing loans, and that put many of those S&Ls at risk. That was something I'd need to research because anything that affected the banking system had a direct effect on the FX desk.

Allyson had a car with her, so she didn't need a ride, but we walked out together after dessert and coffee.

"Kristy told me," Allyson said. "Congratulations, and I hope Keiko beats her leukemia."

"Thanks. Me, too, obviously. What are you doing for the Summer?"

"Being a bum! Once I finish my undergrad degree, I won't have any time off except a few days around Christmas during my first two years of medical school. After that, I'm on clinical rotations, and there are no vacations and no breaks. And then there's Residency. I assume you heard from Sandy and Perry about that."

"It's completely insane!"

"It is. Tim and I will see you on the 3rd and the 4th! I assume it's OK to hug you?"

"It is. Keiko isn't the jealous type."

"That's good!"

We hugged, Allyson got into her car, and once she'd driven off, I headed home. As we had the previous night, Bianca and I made two attempts at ordering a baby, and then Keiko and I showered and went to bed.

June 30, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"You should go out tomorrow night," Keiko insisted after dinner on Thursday. "Ask CeCi to go out with you, please. I know she'll say 'yes'.

"Are you sure, Keiko-chan?"

"Positive. I'm afraid you'll spend all your time at home and not see your friends. Go out and have a good time. Please."

"Let me see if she's interested," I said.

Keiko laughed, "Of course she is! And if you want, you could stay in her room tomorrow night."

"I want to be with you, and only you," I said. "Yes, Bianca and I are still doing that, but for an express purpose."

"Are you truly happy?"

"Yes!" I replied, getting up. "I'll be right back."

I went to find CeCi, who was in the basement with Jack, Kristy, Bianca, and Juliette, watching a movie on the projection TV. They paused the videotape, and I asked CeCi if she wanted to go out and received an affirmative answer. That accomplished, I returned to Keiko.

"She said 'yes'," I said, sitting down next to Keiko.

"Of course she did! Did you know Deanna was going to talk to me today?"

"About?"

"How flexible I could be with our relationship."

I sighed, "No, I didn't know about that. I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize! She said you didn't know she was going to ask, but I needed to check to make sure she was being honest."

"I've never known her to be deceitful, let alone tell a lie. That's true about everyone who lives here. What did she propose?"

"What you would expect, I suspect. She knows about the multiple rounds of chemo, obviously, and knows that once Bianca is pregnant, you two will stop. She also knows we probably won't be able to have sex very often, if at all."

"Bianca made a similar observation, and I made it clear I knew exactly what the situation was and have my eyes wide open."

"You know why it's a concern, right?" she said.

"I'm curious to hear what you think."

"Sorry, I meant their concern. Since I've known you, you've had sex almost every day and with many different partners. And once Bianca is pregnant, it's possible you won't be able to have sex for an extended time."

"Something of which I'm fully aware. Let me present a hypothetical with slightly different circumstances. Say everything is the same, except that we married before your diagnosis, and you and I had regular, almost daily, sex. Would a diagnosis suddenly relieve me of my vows? Or change your definition of fidelity?"

"You obviously think the answer is a clear 'no'."

"Everything I know about you says it is. Yes, you were flexible about the situation with Bianca, but that's a special, extreme case because our timeline, forced by me, was to marry around the time you finished your undergrad degree. And that was because of my stubborn 'too young' or 'not ready' thinking."

"But you could only agree to have a baby with Bianca if you followed your plan or you chose to follow Bianca's plan and have some kind of harem situation."

"Bianca didn't actually propose a harem," I countered. "That was Ellie's interpretation. Unless she told you, I suspect you don't know Bianca's original proposal. Back before I moved out of my apartment over the garage at Lily's house, Bianca proposed we live together, be a couple, and I could have other girls. Her long-term plan was for her, me, and another girl in some kind of permanent three-way relationship.

"I declined and intended to find an apartment, but then things changed, and she, Shelly, and I decided to get a house together, but I wasn't in a relationship with her, except insofar as we were having sex. She continued to want a long-term three-way relationship, but my thinking about marriage and family is more traditional.

"Eventually, as she became my closest confidante and our relationship developed, she acknowledged I wasn't likely to change my stance and suggested we have a baby before I married. She did continue to lobby me to change my mind and made other suggestions along the way, but mostly, they were in jest. Ellie took it seriously, which, in a strange twist of fate, led her to offer me to you, and here we are."

"She was very unhappy about how that worked out," Keiko said.

"I know, but in the end, I wasn't going to have a harem. My intent was to have a traditional marriage, and Ellie was not a candidate because we didn't click. You and I did. Your leukemia diagnosis created some conflicts with things I had planned, and you offered an accommodation to which I agreed. None of that was done in a vacuum or in ignorance."

"That was different from what I think Deanna wants," Keiko observed.

"Yes, of course. Deanna wants a patron, and she's OK with being a mistress, though she might marry eventually. She's gone back and forth on that, but at nineteen, that shouldn't surprise anyone. Because she's not ready to even consider the idea of marriage, she's happy to have a guy to fool around with and support her art. As I've pointed out, I can support her without the sexual relationship, even if that's not her preferred solution."

"OK, I didn't know all of that history," Keiko said.

"I probably should have shared all of that before, but in my mind, what was important was the two agreements -- to have a baby with Bianca and to support Deanna's art. We discussed both of those, and you didn't have a problem with patronage and offered accommodation about the baby because of a change in circumstances. And it was, in one sense, it was simply you finding a way to keep your word about being OK with Bianca and me having a baby."

"I don't think you hid anything; we just didn't discuss what happened before it became clear we were eventually going to marry, and I moved in."

"I think you knew that before I did," I replied.

"I was positive that first night, and why I asked to see you again. I had intended to just have sex with you, and while it was amazing, there was something that screamed, 'This is the guy'. That's why I asked to see you again, and well, you know the rest."

"Are you having second thoughts?" I asked.

"If you mean that the way I think you mean it, the answer is 'yes'. I think the future is too cloudy, but as I said, if you asked, I'd say 'yes'. And while the formal question is waiting until the rings arrive, I said 'yes' when I agreed we should order them. You explained your thinking, and I don't disagree; I'm just concerned about you."

"And I'm concerned about you. As I've said several times, if I changed how I feel about you and what I want because of your illness, that does not say anything good about the kind of man I am and the kind of man I want to be. I love you, Keiko-chan. And that's what matters."

"My diagnosis, the changed prognosis, and the uncertainty have made me think a lot about things I never considered before, especially dying. I'm sure you understand that, at least in the sense that it makes sense; I'd think about it."

"It does. Coming face-to-face with mortality is sobering, and it's not something most people do until they're much older."

"It changes our priorities and forces us to change how we think," Keiko observed. "And that's true of surviving cancer as well -- it creates a completely new reality from the one I had hoped for and, to some extent, expected. Unless things go perfectly, or I'm an extreme outlier, I'll never have a baby, which was something I very much wanted to do.

"Yes, we can adopt if I live, but having a biological child is a different experience because you create that life with your partner and then carry and deliver the baby. I wouldn't love an adopted child any less, but it would be different, and I believe you agree with that sentiment from everything you've said when we discussed the agreement you have with Bianca."

"Yes. I have the same feeling as you -- creating a baby is a special experience that I want to have, but I would not love an adopted child any less or treat them at all differently."

"All of this thinking, and I've had plenty of time to do it in the hospital, has me contemplating what is truly important in my life. First and foremost, it's you."

"I feel the same about you," I said, interrupting her.

"Yes, I know," Keiko said with a smile. "I knew that before my diagnosis. And that means I want what's best for you, just as you want what's best for me. It's that feeling that causes the concern about you and what might happen. I know your usual approach is to request that you be allowed to decide, but I wonder if you're thinking about yourself enough. My primary example is not sex, but your friends."

"Do you trust me to set my priorities and act logically consistent with them?"

"Yes, I do, though priorities change; mine certainly have in the past six weeks."

"Did you have some specific outcome in mind for this conversation?"

"No. Well, not in that we'd change anything, only to agree that the circumstances are such that things may change and that we both need to be open to developments that require rethinking everything."

"With one specific exception -- I'm not going to rethink loving you. Ever."

Keiko smiled, "Me, either. Everything else is open for discussion. Do you agree?"

"Discussion is always appropriate, and any analysis has to be updated as new facts come to light. That may or may not lead to making changes to our approach to life."

"Good. May I ask a very direct question?" Keiko inquired.

"Always."

"Did you think I was going to suggest we agree to Deanna's plan?"

"No. I was positive you simply put it out there for discussion, and I also suspect you were positive about what my response would be."

"Both those things are true. At this point, given our circumstances, it doesn't make sense to take anything off the table, at least with regard to discussing it. I suspect we're going to have to be extremely flexible for the duration of my treatment."

"I expect so," I agreed.

"May I say something that might sound morbid?"

"Yes."

"If the worst happens, and I am not saying I think it will, but if it does, I want a Buddhist funeral and want to be cremated. And I want you to find someone with whom to spend the rest of your life. Promise me those things, please."

"I'll follow your wishes with regard to you, but I have to keep my own counsel on what happens with me in that case. I'd prefer not to think about it and simply acknowledge that it's a possible outcome. Now that we've said that out loud, let's focus on doing everything we can so that we have fifty or sixty years together!"

"I agree. You should probably go see Bianca so you can work on your baby. I'll see you in bed afterwards."

"I love you, Keiko-chan."

"I love you, too, Jonathan."

I gave her a quick kiss, then went to find Bianca so we could complete the ordering process and hope the order was filled.

LXV. Fourth of July

July 1, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Friday, at work, I reviewed my gold and silver positions. There had been a slight uptick overnight, and indicators were pointing to closing out the positions, even though neither gold nor silver was quite at my target price. What gave me pause was that Monday had no trading. The question was, should I hold out for my target or lock in the profits? I decided I didn't need to be greedy, so I called Mr. Steinem and asked him to close out my positions.

"Done," he said. "Should I expect a call from Murray?"

"No, he's holding for a much lower price."

"Realistic?"

"Probably, but I don't have the same risk profile he has. Thanks for the assist."

"You know my number when you need me again!"

I checked my terminal, saw the trade, and plugged the numbers into my spreadsheet. I'd given up about 3% of my target profit, but that still left me with a solid gain, and I put my projected annual return at just over 30%, which, according to my rough estimate, should beat the S&P by about seven percentage points.

I completed my morning analyst report and turned it in, then spent some time on my research on Soviet trade. The more I read, the less I felt there was any benefit to developing a relationship with anyone or even meeting the Trade Attaché. Maybe if something changed, their natural resources could pay off, but the Cold War was 'heating up' thanks to the hardcore anti-communist stances taken by Reagan and Thatcher, cheered on by the Polish Pope.

I wasn't surprised when, just after 8:00am, Murray Matheson asked to see me.

"Lost your nerve?" he asked.

"Not at all. With no trading on Monday and within 3% of my target, I decided to pull the trigger. I think you can keep your end-of-the-year target."

"You've made some ballsy calls, why not on this one?"

"I locked in solid profits, and I have cash to make another play."

"What are you thinking?"

"Today? Keeping my powder dry until after the Fourth. I plan to start looking into Savings & Loans and the banks who back them."

"What's going on there?"

"I'm not sure yet, but a friend of mine who works at Continental Illinois said there's serious concern about non-performing loans. I was about to begin researching to see if I could find any references or any other information. All I have right now is a comment made Tuesday night. I'll let you know what I turn up."

"Thanks, Kane. I don't think you made a mistake based on your priorities and the amount of risk you can take at this point. Just don't become too trigger-happy. And don't become gun shy."

"As Sun Tzu said, 'Ponder and deliberate before you make a move'. But, he also counseled that 'Opportunities multiply as they are seized'."

"You've read Sun Tzu. That's good. What else did you learn that's applicable to FX?"

"Thinking about the currency moves earlier this year, I'd say 'Victory comes from finding opportunities in problems' and 'In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity' both apply."

"You've done well so far, Kane, and you're doing all the right things. Your daily analyst reports are the best I've seen -- concise, to the point, and accurate. You haven't provided any bad advice."

"Thanks."

"Keep it up! There is literally no limit to the upside except your balls and your brains."

"Used in the correct ratio," I countered.

"Figure out the precise ratio, and you'll make more money than you can possibly imagine."

"I have a pretty good imagination!" I chuckled.

"That helps as well! Go find some opportunities to make some serious money!"

"On it!" I declared.

"Hang on a sec," he said. "Before you go, what are you doing about the Ruskies?

"A dead-end, I think, given the deepening of the Cold War and the hot proxy wars in Africa and Central America."

"I'd say that's right. Where's the next serious hotspot?"

"You just said my daily analysis is the best you've seen, so you know what it is!"

"Grenada? A speck of dirt in the Caribbean?"

"Where the Soviets could, according to President Reagan, land long-range bombers, as I noted in my report. The Bishop government claims the runway is for tourism, and at 9,000 feet, that argument is plausible, as I noted, given the minimum runway length for takeoff for a typically loaded 747 is about 8,000 feet at sea level and in good weather conditions.

"Also, as I noted, Congressman Ron Dellums said, and I quote, 'It is my thought that it is absurd, patronizing, and totally unwarranted for the United States government to charge that this airport poses a military threat'. That comment has to be taken in the context of his political views. His statement might well be self-serving, as Reagan's is, and as such, I suggest the President wins that contest."

"When?"

"I don't have a crystal ball nor any insight into CIA, NSA, or DoD analyses, so I'm not sure what is going to happen, but something will. I suspect if the Soviets tried to militarize the island, that would cause a 'quarantine' similar to Cuba during the Missile Crisis. The fact that Cuba is involved in constructing the runway might be enough to trigger some kind of military move on its own, again, a blockade or quarantine being most likely."

"So, no invasion?"

"I don't know how to calculate the odds on that with the information I have or can reasonably obtain. And if it happens, the most likely outcome is a quick occupation, and other than momentary blips in precious metals, nothing changes given the Monroe Doctrine would be trotted out as an excuse for us to interfere, again, where we reject any other interference."

"Nicaragua?"

"As I noted in my report, it's a question of how much support the US will provide to «Fuerza Democrática Nicaragüense». I don't see any likelihood of involvement beyond money, matériel, and advisors. Of course, I'm positive that's what some analyst said in 1963 about Viet Nam."

Mr. Matheson laughed, "I'd bet you're right."

"I also think we learned our lesson from that and the Bay of Pigs, and so we'll fund and supply the anti-Sandinista forces but not commit any combat assets. I wrote that in my report as well."

Mr. Matheson laughed again, "I do read them every single day and don't skim. One thing you'll discover is that what people put in writing and what they say might be very close to the same thing, but you can discern what they really believe by their body language and tone of voice."

"Any discrepancy?"

"No. You're a straight shooter, and you hedge your statements based on solid analysis. The struggle, always, as we've discussed, is the need to be right and the need to be first. You have to be both or you lose. What's your current projected rate of return?"

"About 30%, which would beat the projected S&P return by seven percentage points or so."

"Respectable for anyone; excellent for someone fairly green. Keep it up. Now, go find a way to make some serious money!"

I left his office and returned to my desk to begin my research into Savings & Loans, locating seven articles in various periodicals which discussed the potential threats to their liquidity and their balance sheets. There would be some short opportunities, but the timing would be tricky. That meant tracking relevant details from their quarterly reports and also paying attention to foreclosure rates and other data, which would indicate trouble for the 'Thrifts'.

"I need a spreadsheet," I said to Bianca when we were at lunch together in the break room.

I explained what I was looking for and the metrics I wanted to use, and she made some notes on a napkin and promised to get me something by the end of the following week, given she was fully occupied with developing the analysis programs we'd discussed. I was positive they'd provide us with exactly the edge we'd need to be 'right and first' more than our competition.

After lunch, Bianca and I went to the gym to work out, then returned to the office. Late in the afternoon, I went to Personnel to set up my 401K contributions, which I set to the maximum, as Spurgeon would match dollar for dollar up to 10% of my income. That accomplished, I went back to my desk to finish out the day.

Bianca and I met Jack in the lobby just after 5:00pm, and the three of us headed home for what would be a three-day weekend. At home, I spent some time with Keiko, then Jack, Kristy, CeCi, and I left for dinner at Italian Village and then saw Stroker Ace, a comedy about stock car racing starring Burt Reynolds, Jim Nabors, and Loni Anderson.

"Jennifer or Bailey?" CeCi asked after the movie.

"A dangerous question if I've ever heard one," I replied with a grin, "given you're blonde like Loni Anderson!"

"Equally for me," Jack said with a grin, "given Kristy has dark hair!"

"Which says you two disagree!" Kristy observed with a smile. "Jonathan prefers Jan Smithers, and Jack prefers Loni Anderson!"

"What did you think of the movie?" I asked.

"It was funny," Kristy replied, "though I suspect if any of us were fans of stock car racing, it would have been funnier."

"There were some cameos from actual drivers," Jack noted. "The only one I recognized is Cale Yarborough because, strangely enough, I met him a few years ago through a cousin in Georgia."

"Ice cream?" Kristy suggested.

"I don't believe anyone in this group will turn it down!"

We stopped at Oberweis, and after we finished our ice cream, we headed home.

"I'd like you to spend the night," CeCi said when we arrived at the house. "I'd like a last time with you, just you and me, please. I know Keiko is OK with it, and I also know there aren't likely to be many opportunities because the rings could arrive at any time."

All valid points, and all fit with what Keiko had said, but I was reluctant to make that decision on my own.

"Let me have a quick chat with Keiko, OK?"

"Yes."

I went to the master bedroom, which Keiko and I now shared, and found her reading in bed. I walked over and gave her a kiss.

"CeCi requested a 'last time' and invited me to spend the night with her," I said.

"Deanna is going to ask for the same thing for Tuesday night. I told her she had to ask you, but I had no objections. You know you're free until we exchange rings."

"There's 'free' and then there's 'free'," I replied.

"May I provide a Jonathan-style analysis?" Keiko asked.

I chuckled, "This ought to be interesting! Go ahead."

"Both of them expected to be able to sleep with you for at least two more years, possibly longer, and neither of them has complained nor objected to the abrupt change in those plans. And while you didn't promise, there was an implied promise, especially given your insistence that you were not going to commit to anyone before your twenty-first birthday and probably not immediately after, either. So, from that perspective, allowing them each a 'last night' is appropriate, from a relationship perspective."

"A reward for 'good behavior'?" I asked. "Theirs, I mean."

"I'd say it's allowing that part of the relationship to end on a positive note. My opinion is that you aren't violating any commitments or harming me in any way. I became involved with you to, and I'll simply say it bluntly -- be expertly fucked and have an amazing first time. As I said, neither of us planned for what happened, either with how we came to feel about each other or my diagnosis. I had no objections to sharing you with other girls because I'm neither jealous nor controlling."

"But after marriage?" I asked with a smirk.

Keiko laughed, "Acceptance only goes so far! I know you're teasing, of course, but there is a fundamental difference between sharing my husband and sharing a guy with whom none of us had a committed relationship. Sleep with CeCi; well, you probably won't sleep much, but you know what I mean!"

"You're sure, Keiko-chan?"

"Get it now or never," she said with a soft laugh.

I kissed her, then went to CeCi's room.

"She agreed?" CeCi asked.

"Yes, which I'm going to guess you were sure was the case because you asked her before I arrived home."

"Busted," CeCi replied with a smile. "Will you do something for me?"

"What's that?"

"Fuck my brains out, then after that, just slow and sweet until you can't go anymore?"

"I'll do my best!"

July 2, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Thank you for a wonderful night," CeCi said when we woke up on Saturday morning. "Got one more in you?"

I chuckled, "You mean in you!"

"Obviously!"

"Hard or soft?"

"Soft, please."

We had a slow, passionate, sexy screw, then showered together in the communal bathroom across from her room. After the shower, I went to my room to get clean clothes, finding Keiko propped in bed reading.

"Morning," I said, going over to her and giving her a kiss.

"Morning! Are you and Bianca going shopping?"

"Yes. After breakfast. We'll make our attempt to order a baby sometime during the afternoon."

"OK. Your mom arrives today, right?"

"Yes. She expects to be at Violet's around 4:00pm, and I plan to be there to meet her. She'll come to the house tomorrow for the party and bring Violet with her. I'm having dinner with Violet and my mom at Violet's house tonight, but I'll be home by 8:30pm to spend time with you."

"I'm looking forward to meeting your mom!"

"And she's looking forward to meeting the girl who captured my heart!"

"For a logical, analytical, emotionless guy, you're awfully emotional about that!"

"I'm going to assume that is an observation, not a complaint!"

"True!" Keiko declared. "Neither of us is overly emotional; it's just a very different side of you. I suspect you're very different around Heather, too."

"That's because I was scared shitless!" I chuckled. "I got over it, at least partly, but without Violet, I'd have been completely lost and completely insecure in Kansas City."

"And when you and Bianca have a baby?"

"Same reaction, but I'll adjust and be as loving a dad as I can possibly be. I'll have to make it up as I go along because I don't exactly have a role model to follow. Well, that's not true -- your grandfather's approach seems awesome, and I'll ask him for advice."

Keiko laughed softly. "The ultra-conservative Japanese man who would be scandalized if he knew about what actually went on in this house!"

"Yeah, well, I think most dads of girls would be!" I chuckled. "Ask me again about it if I have a daughter who turns thirteen or so!"

"I can't see you having a double standard, though I wouldn't want to be a boy who disrespected your daughter!"

"The one time I might actually contemplate initiating violence!" I chuckled.

"Like most dads! Get dressed, and we can have breakfast."

I dressed, and we went downstairs to eat and the rest of the day progressed exactly as I'd described to Keiko, and I walked into Violet's house about fifteen minutes before my mom's planned arrival time.

"How is Keiko?" Violet asked.

"I think I'll say she's doing well, though obviously she has more chemo coming up."

"How are you?"

"Fine," I replied. "I'm cautiously optimistic, but not ignoring the possible negative outcomes."

"I don't understand how you can say that so calmly and coldly."

"I'm not unfeeling or uncaring," I replied. "But facts are facts, and acknowledging them is the first step to formulating a plan. We have one, and while Keiko's results aren't the best possible, they're also not the worst possible. As for outcomes, it would be foolish to not acknowledge them, even if we don't like them."

"It's just...well, no, I guess that's how you've always been since I met you. Sometimes, it's hard to tell if you're happy or not."

"I'm happy most of the time," I replied. "And I'm certainly happy you're my friend and that we can spend time together."

"Me, too!"

The doorbell rang, and Violet went to answer it, and a moment later, returned with my mom, who was carrying a small suitcase.

"Hi, Mom!" I said. "I'll take your bag up to your room."

"What?! No hug for your mom?!"

I laughed, hugged her, then took her bag up to the guest room and returned downstairs.

"Violet will bring you to the house tomorrow around 11:00am," I said. "She'll bring you back here when the cookout ends. You'll take the L to Wrigley Field on Monday morning, then we'll go to Grant Park as a group afterwards. I'm going to park my car in the delivery area of the tailor shop so I can bring you both here after the fireworks."

"That sounds fine to me," Mom said.

"Good. Then you relax, and Violet and I will make dinner."

"I'll come sit in the kitchen so we can chat, if that's OK."

"It is."

We had a good three-way chat while Violet and I were making dinner, and after we ate, I helped Violet clean up, declining help from my mom. I didn't stay late, as I'd promised Keiko I'd be home early, so just after 8:00pm, I said 'good night' and headed home.

July 3, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Sunday morning was busy setting up for the cookout, and my housemates and I agreed that the house would basically be off-limits except for using the bathroom to limit Keiko's exposure to the group of about thirty-five people who would be there. She would come outside to spend some time, but she and I would eat inside so she didn't have to remove her mask in proximity to all those people in the backyard.

My mom and Violet arrived a bit early, and after I introduced my mom to Keiko, my mom asked if I had time to take a walk so we could talk. I checked with Jack and Bianca to ensure there was nothing I needed to do, and then, with Keiko's blessing, my mom and I left.

"I doubt what I'm going to say will come as a surprise to you, but Violet is in love with you."

"I know," I replied. "I love her, too. There's an impediment which cannot be overcome despite my best efforts and patience. Unfortunately, I can't share anything else about the situation."

"OK. I assume it's OK to spend some time with Keiko? I am going to be her mother-in-law, after all!"

"Of course. Mostly, we won't have anyone in the house to limit her exposure because her immune system is seriously compromised due to the chemo. She'll come outside for an hour or so but wear a surgical mask. The house has a whole-house air cleaner that uses UV light to kill any airborne viruses and portable units in our room and in the Japanese room, where you met Keiko."

"'Our' room?"

"Yes, Mom, your son is living in sin!" I chuckled. "She moved into the master bedroom when she came home last Friday. She'll have to sleep in her old room during the first two weeks of each round of chemo because the chemo drugs leach through her skin and are in her saliva and other stuff. Nobody is supposed to touch her without surgical gloves during those two weeks."

"I had no idea!"

"Until about six weeks ago, neither did I. Both Keiko and I have had a crash course in leukemia, chemotherapy, and everything that goes along with it."

"Do you know her prognosis?"

"Although her oncologist is reluctant to say because she's in the 'middle' group -- not the best, not the worst -- the statistics are about 50/50 for five-year survival. We'll know more after the next round of chemo."

"And you're prepared for that?"

"I'm not exactly sure how one 'prepares for that', but I'm cognizant of the possible outcomes. That said, Keiko and I are prepared to fight for her to live. Her family is, as well, and her grandfather arranged for marrow testing for her extended family. I don't know any of the results as yet, but we'll find out at her appointment on the 15th."

"How many more treatments does she have?"

"A minimum of one, but given what happened with the first one, I suspect several. As I said, we'll know more after the next round, and the next set of full blood tests is on the 29th. Anything else I say is pure speculation. Changing topics, Keiko and I are having dinner at your sister's house with Grandpa and Grandma Kane on the 9th."

"That should be interesting."

"That's one word to describe it. I'm going in with an open mind and giving them the benefit of the doubt, but I have limited tolerance for holier-than-thou people who claim to speak for an imaginary being with whom they purport to communicate regularly."

"I'm sure I don't have to say this, but I'd avoid any discussion of your living arrangements."

"I won't bring it up, but I won't lie. Ditto with going to church or any other topic."

"Sometimes discretion is the better idea."

"Not if it means lying to someone or deceiving them. My reputation in the industry has to be one of being a straight-shooter who always tells the truth and doesn't try to mislead or obfuscate. You know, I never asked, but what does Grandpa do?"

"According to Wendy, he's an executive at Caterpillar in Aurora. I believe he's responsible for acquiring all the parts and supplies needed to assemble whatever equipment they build there."

"And Grandma?"

"Never worked a day in her life, as far as I'm aware. You'd need to ask Wendy, but she moved from her dad's house to your grandfather's house the day they married, which was in June after she graduated from High School, which was just after Dad finished his degree in business at UC, and had started working at P&G. He was at P&G until he moved to Illinois to start a church."

"With an investment manager named Robert Van Kampen, who is a very successful municipal bond trader. Aunt Wendy said he's some kind of 'End Times' fanatic."

"Dad believes the Book of Daniel and the Book of Revelation both predict the future. I don't know much, given it's been twenty years, but I recall him saying that what ushers in the 'End Times' is a treaty between the Antichrist and Israel. That begins the 'End Times' and kicks off the events which lead to the Rapture and Second Coming."

"Hogwash," I said firmly. "I find it difficult to believe that someone with Robert Van Kampen's obvious intelligence and abilities believes that kind of nonsense. I promised Aunt Wendy I won't bring it up, but I'm not going to listen to Grandpa preach or say a single negative thing about Keiko."

"I take it from the decoration in the room at your house, she's not Christian?"

"Shinto, which, at least as her family practices it, is a fusion of Buddhism and ancient Japanese religion, though it's a bit more complicated than that."

"And she follows her faith?"

"Again, it's complicated because Buddhism isn't theistic, and Shinto is very culturally Japanese, and the concepts don't translate well to the things I've heard Christians say, though nearly everyone I speak with is Roman Catholic."

"Your grandfather rejects the idea that they're Christians."

"And I suspect the feeling is mutual. Ultimately, it's up to him what happens. I'll be polite, but I won't sit still for BS or anything negative about Keiko and her beliefs."

"Nor should you. You know my take."

"I do, and from everything Aunt Wendy says, this is futile, but I have to make an attempt because I respect Keiko's grandfather, and having my family at the «yuino», or engagement party, is important to him."

"Engagement party?"

"I ordered rings. I'm going to ask her to marry me as soon as they arrive. I don't know if we'll be able to swing the party before her chemo, so my rough guess is that it would be in mid-July. I'd want you to come to Chicago, and I'll pay for an airline ticket for you."

"Rings? As in wedding rings?"

"There are multiple traditions in Japan, and many people have adopted the Western practice, but Keiko wants to exchange engagement rings, which is the more traditional practice. We'll forego the usual diamond engagement ring and wedding rings for a pair of «mokume-gane» rings, which are made from three metals folded together. According to Keiko, they're quite beautiful."

"And your wedding?"

"A Shinto ceremony, but the timing will depend on Keiko's chemo. You'll get to see me in a kimono."

"A beautiful floral print?" Mom asked with a smirk.

"Men's kimono are generally a black skirt and a coat, not floral prints!"

"Darn!" Mom teased. "I'd buy a camera for that! In all seriousness, are you sure?"

"Positive. Will you come to Chicago for the «yuino»?"

"Yes, of course! I can drive up, so no need for an airline ticket. I have a somewhat flexible schedule over the Summer."

We returned to the house just as more guests were arriving. Bianca had put a sign on the front door asking everyone to simply go around the side of the house to the backyard, which meant we didn't have to constantly answer the door. I was happy that my guy friends all showed up, including Tom, but I detected something amiss between him and Maria, and when I had a chance to do so privately, I asked Stuart about it.

"Tom's been very quiet about it, but you noticed the same thing I did," Stuart said. "I think they may be heading for a breakup. I wasn't sure it was the best idea to get married so young, and it turns out I might have been right."

"You, on the other hand, must have a little black book the size of the Chicago White Pages!"

Stuart laughed, "Being tied down does not interest me. I seriously doubt I'll ever get married, so why not live the bachelor life to its fullest!"

"I don't disagree with you, except that I do plan to marry and have a family."

"Better you than me! I'll be fifty and have a girlfriend in her twenties when you're paying for college!"

I chuckled, "I think I'll be able to afford it. Not that you guys are badly paid, and your construction jobs on your days off are a nice income, too!"

"And retire at forty-five, or fifty at the latest, and free to do whatever I want at that point! I suppose you could do the same, if you make it to the big time."

"That is the plan! Shall we get some brats and burgers going?"

We walked over to the grill, which I'd set up earlier, and lit it. Once the coals were hot, we started grilling hamburgers and brats with help from Jack, Costas, and Tim, who was Allyson's date. As planned, I ate inside with Keiko, and after we ate, she came outside for about forty minutes. I had left the hot tub cover on and hadn't mentioned it to anyone, so it wasn't used during the cookout.

As planned, people began to drift off about 8:00pm, and by 9:00pm, it was just my housemates left.

"We should christen the hot tub," Bianca suggested. "But we wait until 10:00pm so we don't have to wear suits!"

"It'll be a tight fit with seven," I said. "Unfortunately, Keiko can't join us."

"But you guys should do it," Keiko interjected.

"I can sit on Jack's...lap," Kristy said with a silly smile.

I went to the porch, removed the cover from the hot tub, adjusted the controls to heat the water, and then went back inside. At 10:00pm, we all went back outside, and the combination of the fence, house, and privacy screen allowed us to strip naked and get into the tub, with Kristy sitting on Jack's lap. It was enjoyable, but I was disappointed that Keiko couldn't participate. I only stayed in about ten minutes before I left Bianca, Juliette, Jack, Kristy, Deanna, and CeCi in the tub and went inside.

I went up to the master bedroom, showered, then got into bed with Keiko. She snuggled close, and we fell asleep.

July 4, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I spent Monday morning with Keiko because, unfortunately, she wasn't able to join us at Wrigley Field for the doubleheader between the Cubs and Expos, nor at Grant Park for the fireworks. I wasn't thrilled with the idea of going without her, but she insisted, so I left the house with Bianca so we could drop my car at the tailor shop and leave the coolers we'd prepared for Grant Park in Bev's apartment. That accomplished, Bev, Glen, Beth, and Joshua joined us for the ride to the ballpark on the L. Bev left Heather with a babysitter she'd arranged.

We met our friends at the 'Will Call' window, and I retrieved the tickets and handed them out. Once everyone had arrived, we all entered the stadium and made our way to the bleachers. I sat with Jack to my right and my mom to my left, more or less in the center of the group, with Bianca and Juliette in front of me and Deanna and CeCi behind me. Dustin, Trevor, Costas, and Archie were there, along with Shelly and Perry, Stuart and his new girl, Sheryl, Allyson and Tim, Sophie, Ivy, and their professor, Miranda, Lucy, and a few guys and girls from Loyola that Bianca had invited.

We had a great time, though the Cubs had a bad day, losing both games. They lost the opener 6-3 and the second game 4-2. In both games, the Cubs gave up as many runs in the first inning as they scored the entire game -- 3 in the first inning of game one and 2 in the first inning of game two. The outcome left the Cubs at 38-41 and the Expos at 41-36, about halfway through the season, and neither team had any real chance of catching the Phillies.

We left the ballpark, with most people heading for Grant Park, while Jack, Stuart, Costas, Trevor, Dustin, Archie, Tim, and I headed for Bev's apartment to retrieve the four coolers with food and drinks. The only downside was that Chicago's 'open bottle' ordinance meant no bottles or cans of beer were allowed. The eight of us carried the four coolers to Grant Park, where we found the rest of our group, with blankets they'd brought with them to the ballpark spread on the grass.

We had several hours before the fireworks began, and Stuart had brought a football and Bianca some Frisbees, which kept us entertained. Finally, just after dusk, the usual Chicago fireworks display over Lake Michigan began. Just over an hour later, we left Grant Park, and I walked with my mom and Violet to my car, which was parked at the tailor shop, then drove them to Violet's house.

Because I had to work on Tuesday, I said 'goodbye' to my mom, who was leaving in the morning, got the usual hug and kiss on the cheek from Violet, then headed home.

"Did you enjoy your day?" Keiko asked when I came into the bedroom.

"I did, but the highlight is being with you!"

"You can be so goofy!" Keiko replied.

"Perhaps, but it's also true. I need a quick shower, then I'll come to bed."

I took a shower, brushed my teeth, then got into bed with Keiko, who snuggled close.

"I had a very good talk with your mom," Keiko said. "We got along well, and I heard quite a few stories about you growing up."

"All lies!" I protested.

"It wasn't anything bad! I think she and I will get along well."

"That's good."

"So far, everyone in your family is great except your cousin."

"Fortunately, she'll be out the evening we have dinner with my grandparents."

"I'd say that's probably a good thing. Your mom did let me know you explained about the «結納» (yuino) and that she'll come to Chicago for it. August?"

"I think it'll have to be because I don't want to set the date for it until we have the rings."

"That makes sense," Keiko agreed.

"And it won't cause trouble with your family if we exchange rings before the «yuino»?"

"No."

"Then August it is," I said firmly.

Keiko agreed, I turned out the light, she snuggled close, and we fell asleep.

July 5, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Tuesday was a fairly normal day at work, and that evening, Juliette and Kristy made dinner. After we ate, Jack and I cleaned up, and then I spent the evening with Keiko, minus the hour I spent with Bianca. Deanna had asked for a last night together, so when Keiko went to bed, I stayed up and waited for Deanna to arrive home from her job at Venice Café. When she arrived home, we showered together, then went to her combination studio/bedroom in the attic.

"What can I do for you?" I asked.

"Being your mistress is off the table?'

"Yes, but that doesn't change any other part of our relationship. I intend to support your art in any way I'm able, and that means not charging you rent going forward."

"I'd rather pay rent and keep fucking you!" Deanna declared. "But I know that's off the table, so I'll just say thank you. There is something else you can do, if you're willing."

"What's that?"

"Pose for me for art; mostly clothed, but sometimes nude."

"Your memory appears to be pretty good, given your sketchbooks!"

"Yes, but it is easier if you're there! This might be a bit much, but would you volunteer to model for some of my classes?"

"Nude?" I inquired.

"It's possible you'd be asked to do that."

"Let me think about it," I replied.

"And discuss it with Keiko?"

"Yes. I don't have a problem with the concept."

"Good. Now, for tonight, Fuck me, cum in my mouth, repeat until you need to go to sleep so we can have one more in the morning."

"I can do that."

"Great!"

July 8, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Friday after the Fourth of July, just after 10:00am, I received the call I'd been waiting for from Detective Sergeant Thomas in Overland Park.

"The union leadership would like you to come to Overland Park and make a presentation and answer questions. They're very interested, but at least one person expressed the thought that it was too good to be true."

"The materials I'll bring to hand out will include audited financial statements for all Spurgeon Funds. My fund is relatively new, so there isn't an audit, but I'll bring a complete transaction list so you can verify the trades, if necessary."

"Good. When can you come down?"

"Let me discuss it with my boss, Mr. Matheson. I suspect he'll come down with me, as he's been here since the beginning. I'll call you back no later than this afternoon."

"They'll clear their schedules for you."

"You'll hear from me in a few hours, at most."

We said 'goodbye', I replaced the handset in the cradle, then walked over to Anna's desk and asked to see Murray Matheson. He wasn't immediately available, but just after 11:00am, he called me in.

"Overland Park bit," I replied. "It'll be the police and firefighters union's pension fund. They'd like me to come down and make a presentation."

"How much?"

"About $18 million."

"I'll go with you; Noel will insist."

"I suggested to the detective who's the go-between that was likely. I think we should do this before I begin my vacation, which means next week."

"For that kind of initial investment, Noel will let us use the Gulfstream. One sec."

He placed a call, spoke to someone for a few minutes, agreed on a time, then hung up.

"Next week, Wednesday. We can be in Overland Park by 9:00am. Set it up. I'll talk to Noel, and if everything goes well, we'll onboard them while you're on vacation. That won't change your commission structure."

"I'll make the call!"

I left his office, returned to my desk, and placed the phone call to arrange for the presentation. I arranged for the meeting to be at 11:00am, with lunch at noon, and to be finished by 2:00pm. Once I'd set up the meeting, I created a checklist of the things we should take with us, then had lunch with Bianca. After lunch, Mr. Matheson confirmed that he'd spoken to Noel Spurgeon and then called to let the flight crew know the exact times for our flight.

Once that was completed, I called Windy City Travel and arranged for a car and driver in Kansas City. I spent the afternoon working on the presentation materials and handouts, which involved speaking to Accounting, Legal, and Compliance to get the necessary documents and approvals. That occupied a good chunk of the afternoon.

At the end of the day, Bianca, Jack, and I headed home, and after I spent some time with Keiko, CeCi and I joined Jack and Kristy for dinner at Maxim's. After dinner, we saw Superman III, which was mediocre and wasn't nearly as good as the first two. After the movie, we had ice cream, then headed home, where I went to the master bedroom and, after a quick shower, got into bed with Keiko, who snuggled close, and we fell asleep.

LXVI. A Presentation and an Important Question

July 9, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Saturday, Bianca and I went to the grocery store and dry cleaners, then had lunch at home with Keiko and Juliette. After lunch, Bianca and I went to Bianca's room for our daily attempt at making a baby.

"I think today is the last day I'm likely to conceive," Bianca said when we cuddled after we finished our attempt to place an order. "My period should start on Tuesday. There's something I really want to do before you get engaged, if you're amenable."

"What's that?"

"Screw in the hot tub! Tonight would be perfect because we can wait until after midnight to limit the chances of being caught."

"I could see my way clear to do that. I'm going to assume you checked with Keiko?"

"Of course! And in keeping with the pattern, Juliette and I would like a last 'playtime', given in a week or so, you'll basically be off limits except for procreation."

"Knowing, of course, that as much as I love you, I'd be hard-pressed to turn you down, given Deanna and CeCi had their last times."

"I was sure that love would be the deciding factor, but I assume nothing, and if you say 'no', I'll understand. I hope you don't."

"If Keiko agrees, we'll start 'playtime' when I return from dinner at my uncle's house."

"You know I already asked!" Bianca exclaimed.

"Of course, but you also know I'm not going to do a thing to upset Keiko. She's been very tolerant, and the last thing I want to do is take advantage of that because I certainly could."

"Could, but won't, because you have integrity. And you know I'll support you, whatever decisions you make."

"My next decision is to get out of bed and shower so I can dress for dinner at my uncle's house."

"If anyone needed proof of your dedication to Keiko, it's you trying to please not just her but her grandfather by reconciling with your grandparents."

"Trying and failing might be better," I observed. "I don't think having them and my mom at the engagement party will go over well at all, and it'll turn ugly quickly if my grandfather starts in on my mom on anything or makes any kind of disparaging remark about Shinto or Buddhism."

"What are the chances of that not happening?"

"Near zero, according to my aunt. But I have to try, and if things actually get to that point, I'll lay down the law to my grandfather, and if he doesn't like it, that's on him, not on the rest of us. But, as I said, I'm going with an olive branch and a peaceful spirit. I'll maintain that so long as he doesn't slap the olive branch out of my hand."

"Which you expect him to do."

"Which my aunt expects him to do. I'm simply being realistic about the difficulties of trying to reconcile what amount to diametrically opposing worldviews."

"You haven't dated any Evangelical girls, have you?"

"No, unless you count CeCi, and I don't think she actually counts. Most of the girls have been Catholic, but there have been a few Protestants. The only one who goes to church regularly is Lily, and she's seeing someone exclusively. Others go occasionally, similar to how you go when you're home."

"It keeps the peace and doesn't bother me. You obviously know I don't give a fuck about what the Church teaches about most things."

"Obviously."

We got out of bed, I put on my robe, and went to the master bedroom so I could shower. While I was in the shower, Keiko came in and joined me. We finished our shower, dried ourselves, then dressed for dinner. Once we were ready, we left the house, got into my car, and began heading for Logan Square.

"Bianca asked me to spend the night with her and Juliette tonight," I said.

"She asked, and it's OK. I think you have about a week of freedom left!"

I chuckled, "And yet, I don't see myself as being restricted in any way that really matters. I always intended to marry, be faithful to my wife, have kids, and so on. Yes, the situation with Bianca complicates things a bit, at least for the short term, but that was an accommodation all three of us made to achieve something that is important to her and me."

"And me, believe it or not," Keiko said. "We know I may never be able to have children, and we both are OK with adoption, but having a biological child is important to you, which makes it important to me."

"I know we haven't talked about it, but how do you feel about not having a biological child, if that's what happens?"

"It's not what I had planned, but my identity is not tied to having a baby or even being a mom. Yes, I want to do that, but I don't have a visceral need to have a baby the way some girls do."

"And me," I replied.

"I don't think so," Keiko countered. "I think if presented with the choice, you would choose me and be happy to adopt one or two kids and never regret your choice. Having your own baby is important, but not a visceral need, such that you would give up on us to get it. Some guys would."

"I'd say that's an accurate analysis."

"That's high praise from you!" Keiko said with a smile.

"Let's say we do have to adopt, as you suspect we would. Do you want a boy or girl?"

"I would be OK with either, and perhaps we decide based on your child with Bianca, so there's a boy and a girl. Bianca plans to live with us long-term, right?"

"Yes," I confirmed. "Her plan is that we would raise our child together, and that's something I'd like. We already have a room we can turn into a nursery, and at some point, Jack and Kristy will move out, though it'll be a few years. Ceci will probably move to California when she finishes the four-year program at The School of the Art Institute, and Deanna will probably live with us long term, depending on what kind of relationship she decides to have."

"You might not have thought this far ahead, but knowing you, you did -- what about a new house?"

"I have thought about it, and I think it's about three years away. Fundamentally, I think I need to create an REIT -- a Real Estate Investment Trust -- to own the rental properties. I also need to put myself in a position to repay the mortgage from Spurgeon. That way, I'll be able to finance the new house I want to build. I figure three years should do it, during which time I'll buy a pair of two- or four-flats. Those, plus this house, would create a nice REIT and provide tax advantages, as well as move the loans from being personal to being part of the REIT. I can capitalize the REIT by selling shares of it to the Cincinnatus Fund."

"So, no outlay on your part?"

"Correct. The only thing we have to sort out about the new house is how Bianca builds equity, but I need to discuss that with my tax attorney and CPA. But that's a few years down the road."

"When do you plan to buy the two- or four-flats?"

"I'll have enough capital in the Cincinnatus Fund once we seal the deal with the Overland Park Police and Fire pension funds. Then I'll speak to my friend Pete from Continental Illinois or someone at Goldman to line up the financing, transfer this house into the REIT, and then start looking for available property. I figure August, assuming Mr. Matheson and I close the deal on Wednesday."

"Will you manage the properties?"

"No. I'll ask Kasia to do that for me. Basically, I want an investment vehicle, and don't want to have to worry about the day-to-day stuff."

"You're very successful for being so young," Keiko said with a smile.

"The true measure at Spurgeon is long-term success. There have been some whiz kids in the past who were flashes in the pan, and people also burn out. One reason I'm so careful with my money is to ensure that no matter what happens, we can have a comfortable life."

"You've spent a lot of money on me."

"On us," I corrected.

Keiko smiled, "On us."

"And all of it is an investment in the future of some kind -- the garden, deck, and hot tub improve the value of the house. Would I have done them for you without that? Yes, of course, but in the end, each and everything I've spent money on provides some future value, including the engagement rings."

"I have to hear that analysis!"

"You're my life partner, and that, Keiko-chan, is more valuable than anything I can think of."

"Thank you."

"I hope you understand how much I love you."

"I do. I just...well, you know..."

"All we can ever do is take things one day at a time and deal with any challenges as they arise. That doesn't mean we don't plan for the future, but no matter what plans we make, there are no guarantees in life. The best approach is to live our lives to the utmost, whatever the future brings, so that, as I read in one of the Eastern philosophy books Anala recommended, we can say we had a life well-lived."

"Have you heard from her?"

"No. Once she met the guy from Milford, she's been scarce, and the contact attempts were one-sided. If she doesn't want to spend time with me, there isn't much I can do about it."

"I suppose not."

When we arrived in Logan Square, I dropped Keiko in front of my uncle's townhouse and then went in search of a parking spot. That took about five minutes, and when I arrived at the townhouse, Keiko had been invited in by my aunt and uncle. My grandparents were expected shortly, and, as Aunt Wendy had promised, Lisa was nowhere to be seen. The four of us sat in the living room and chatted until there was a knock at the door. My aunt got up and let her parents into the townhouse.

I had never met them, and I had no idea if they had even seen a picture of me growing up. I expected that they had not, given my mom wasn't in touch with them, and the last contact I'd had with them was the .22 rifle they'd sent me when I was eight. My grandfather was about my height, and if I was completely honest, I saw some resemblance to the face I saw in the mirror each morning, albeit about forty years older.

I stood up when they came into the room and extended my hand to shake with my grandfather.

"Hi," I said.

"Hello, Jonathan," he replied.

"It's nice to finally meet you," my grandmother said.

"And you as well," I replied. "This is my girlfriend, Keiko. You'll excuse her wearing the surgical mask, but she has a compromised immune system."

"Wendy explained the situation," my grandmother said. "It's nice to meet you, Keiko."

"Nice to meet you both, as well."

"Can I get you something to drink, Dad?" Aunt Wendy inquired.

"Ginger ale, please, and for your mother."

"Be right back."

We all sat down, and Aunt Wendy brought two glasses of ginger ale and handed them to her parents.

"Wendy tells us that you're an investment analyst," my grandfather said.

"Yes, and I hold a pair of securities licenses as well, so I can trade professionally in my own name and on behalf of clients."

"No college degree is required for that?" he asked.

"No," I replied. "I studied the training guides from Spurgeon and then attended classes to prepare for the licensure exams."

"And what do you do, Keiko?" my grandmother asked.

"I'm a student at Loyola, studying political science, and I intend to seek a Master's in international relations."

"Would that lead to a job at the State Department?" my grandfather asked.

"It could," Keiko replied. "But it also could lead to a position at any company that does significant business overseas, a teaching position, or a job at a think tank."

"Are you a Christian, young lady?" my grandfather asked.

"Dad..." Aunt Wendy warned.

"I don't believe a discussion of religion would be fruitful," I interjected, hoping to head off what I feared was an inevitable debate which would ruin the evening.

"And why is that?" he asked.

"Answering that question will simply start a debate which cannot have a positive outcome."

"There is only one way to heaven, Jonathan."

"I'd strongly prefer not to have this conversation," I said.

"Just like your mother," he replied.

"Tim, please," Uncle Alec pleaded.

I was sorely tempted to get into it with him, but I refrained because I'd promised myself, Keiko, and my aunt and uncle that I'd do my utmost to avoid being confrontational. The comment about my mom and the implications behind it was basically the limit, and if he didn't cease and desist, I'd say something that would likely end the evening when it had barely started.

"Grandpa," I said. "I'm looking to mend fences or build bridges or whatever metaphor you prefer, not continue a fight that appears to have begun about twenty-one years ago. If that isn't your intent, or you aren't willing, please just say so, and we'll save everyone from a fruitless debate."

"Denying the truth doesn't make it go away," my grandfather countered.

My options were to respond, to leave, or to listen to the sermon he was so clearly itching to give.

"And fervently believing a fantasy does not make it true," I counted.

"Fantasy?!" he growled. "Blasphemy!"

"Aunt Wendy," I said, "I'm sorry, but you appear to have been correct. Keiko and I are going to leave."

"Jonathan, stay put for a moment, please," Uncle Alec requested. "Tim, may I speak to you privately in my study?"

Interestingly, my grandmother seemed uneasy and gave the impression she disagreed with my grandfather, but if I understood the dynamic correctly, she would never contradict him nor assert herself on any topic on which he had expressed an opinion. I was somewhat surprised when my grandfather got up and followed my uncle to his study.

"Mom, would you come to the kitchen with me, please," Aunty Wendy requested. "I need to check on dinner."

I considered volunteering to help, but I suspected my aunt wanted to have a private conversation. My grandmother got up and followed her daughter into the kitchen.

"I don't understand why he's trying to pick a fight," Keiko said quietly.

"Because as a 'True Believer', with a capital 'T' and a capital 'B', he has no choice but to follow what he thinks are the key precepts of his beliefs. The problem is, he can offer no proof of what he believes and appears to expect everyone to just take his word for it. I have no problem with him following whatever code works for him, but when he tries to force it on others or looks down on them because they disagree, then we have a problem."

"He's not going to come to our wedding," Keiko said. "No way."

"Sadly, I think you're correct. His worldview is so narrow that it has no room for dissent. I suspect he'll reject coming to the engagement party as well. That said, my grandmother's body language and facial expressions indicated she didn't approve of his behavior."

"Why didn't she speak up?" Keiko asked.

"Because she's bought into the program that says the man is in charge, period. She went straight from her father's control to her husband's. It's not something I could ever contemplate doing. And I suspect, strongly, that my mom sneaking out to meet my dad was all about who was actually in control. Mom proved fairly definitively she was. And THAT, I think, is the true source of the conflict with my grandfather, even if he couches it in terms of sinful behavior."

"He's going to have a fit about you having a baby with Bianca."

"I think he'd have a bigger fit about the fact that Bianca has a girlfriend and probably a bigger one about the boys."

"I don't understand how people can be so intolerant."

"Me, either. Life is far too short to worry about what anyone else is doing if it doesn't harm me or an innocent party. Fundamentally, society would be a lot better off with fewer busybodies and less moralistic pontification."

A full five minutes passed before my uncle and my grandfather returned to the room.

"Alec tells me you bought a house earlier this year," my grandfather said.

"Yes, I did," I replied.

"That's quite an accomplishment for someone who is only twenty."

"Hard work and determination, plus a small amount of luck," I replied. "And an introduction from Uncle Alec, which got me into the mailroom."

"You've worked your way up to analyst from the mailroom in two years?"

"Yes."

"Do you know Bob van Kampen?"

"I've never met him, but I know about Van Kampen Merritt and its history. His firm has sold north of seven billion dollars of Insured Municipal Income Trusts. It's one of the largest firms dealing in municipal bonds. That's not my area of focus, so I wouldn't have any cause to deal with his firm. I focus on foreign exchange, mostly currencies, but also precious metals and commodities. You work for Caterpillar, right?"

"Yes. I'm responsible for logistics."

"You worked for P&G in Cincinnati, right?"

"Yes, I was hired as a logistics expediter right after I graduated from UC. I worked there until we moved to Illinois."

"What year did you graduate?"

"1945. We moved to Illinois in late 1964."

"Dinner is ready," Aunt Wendy announced.

We all went to the dining room table, and my grandmother and aunt brought in the food. In order to not be responsible for creating any tension, I bowed my head when my grandfather said a prayer, but I didn't say 'Amen', and neither did Keiko nor my uncle. The conversation during dinner was cordial, with my grandparents asking questions about me growing up but carefully steering clear of even mentioning my mom.

When we finished eating, we had dessert and coffee, and then my grandparents announced they would be leaving as they had to be up early for church.

"Sometime in August, Keiko and I will have an engagement party," I said to my grandfather. "It's a Japanese tradition and involves the couple's families. Keiko's extended family will attend, and I've invited Uncle Alec and Aunt Wendy, as well as my mom."

My grandfather visibly stiffened at the mention of my mom.

"Let us know the date, please," my grandmother said.

"I will. It was good to finally meet both of you."

I shook hands with my grandfather, said 'good night' to both of them, and they left.

"What did you say to him?" I asked Uncle Alec.

"That he was being rude and obnoxious, and if anyone was leaving, it would be him and his wife, not you and Keiko. I take it you saw his reaction to the invitation once you mentioned your mom?"

"I did. Keiko and I agreed it was unlikely they'd attend, and once he finds out Keiko is Shinto. We're planning a Shinto wedding ceremony, and that will reinforce his decision."

"His worldview is too narrow to even attend something like that," Aunt Wendy said. "He wouldn't even set foot in a Catholic church."

"I'll send the invitation; what he does with it is up to him. And I do apologize, but we need to get home so Keiko can go to bed. Thank you both for your hospitality."

"You're welcome," Uncle Alec said. "Let us know when you're having the party."

"I will."

Keiko and I said 'good night', and we left the townhouse. Keiko said she was OK to walk to the car, so I put my arm around her and we walked along the sidewalk.

"You handled that very well," Keiko said. "You were restrained, except for the 'fantasy' comment, which was right on target."

"I probably shouldn't have said that, but I was annoyed."

"I think my grandfather will accept that you made the effort, and, if I may be honest, I'd prefer your grandparents didn't attend. I wouldn't rescind the invitation, but I hope they don't accept."

"I suspect once they find out we're having a Shinto ceremony, that'll be the end of it, as my aunt suggested. That said, I will make at least one further attempt, but I think I'll do it by inviting my grandfather to lunch."

"You know how that will turn out," Keiko replied.

"I have a strong suspicion, but it's the right thing to do."

We reached the car, and I opened the door for Keiko. Once she was in the passenger seat, I shut the door, then walked around to the other side of the car and got in. A minute later, after waiting for traffic, I pulled out of the spot and headed for Rogers Park.

"I haven't asked, but how are things working with your grandmother?"

"Good, I'd say," Keiko replied. "She comes over for a few hours each morning. Once I start the next round of chemo, she'll be at the house all day. We should probably invite my parents for dinner before I start my next round of chemo."

"Pick the day, and I'll arrange my schedule around it. Your birthday might be a nice gesture."

"I'll call them when we arrive home."

"What should we serve for dinner?"

"Steaks on the grill would be OK, along with corn-on-the-cob. An authentic American Summer meal."

"They'll be OK with that?"

"Yes. At some point, I'll teach you how to cook some Japanese dishes, but I think the American meal complements the Japanese room in a way that honors both cultures."

"Which is something I absolutely want to do."

"Well," Keiko smirked, "you do like eating Japanese!"

I chuckled, "It's very tasty!"

"Well, it's Mexican-American for you tonight!"

"So long as you're OK with it."

"I am. I do want to make love before my chemo starts."

"That's entirely up to you," I replied. "You know Doctor Morrison's opinion."

"Yes, and he's entitled to it! Each time we make love could be the last."

"A true statement, Keiko-chan, but please try to keep a positive outlook."

"I'm not giving up!"

"Good."

"I was thinking maybe we should invite my grandparents, as well as my aunt, uncle, and cousin."

"It's up to you," I replied. "Your cousin is younger, right?"

"Yes. Ailea is seven."

"I don't recall what you said about how they balance American and Japanese culture."

"Mostly, they don't. My cousin is interested in Japanese culture, but my aunt purposefully married an American man because she wanted to be fully American. I just remembered that my uncle has relatives in southern Ohio but further east, I think. The town is named East Monroe."

"I don't recall hearing that city name, do you have an idea where it is?"

"East of Cincinnati on Route 50, around Rutherford."

"OK, that one, I know."

"My uncle's brother has a son named Mike, who is about our age, but I haven't seen him in about five years. Other than Lisa, you don't know if you have any cousins, right?"

"Right. I have no idea if my dad had siblings or not. I have thought about trying to find out, but it would take quite a bit of legwork in Kansas City, and, in the end, I decided it wasn't important enough for me to find out."

At home, Keiko made phone calls to her parents, her aunt, and her grandparents, and all of them agreed to join us for a cookout on the 16th. With that arranged, Keiko and I went up to our room. She got ready for bed, and I changed into shorts and a T-shirt. I kissed her 'good night', then went down to the great room where Bianca, Juliette, and CeCi were watching TV.

"I'm all yours until it's time for me to get ready to go to Violet's tomorrow," I said.

"Then let's go upstairs!" Bianca exclaimed.

July 10, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Bianca, Juliette, and I had spent a few hours in their room fooling around, then, just after midnight, we'd gone to the hot tub where I'd screwed each girl in turn. When we'd finished in the hot tub, we'd returned to their bedroom and had fooled around until nearly 3:00am. We'd slept until 10:00am, and then each girl received a vigorous fuck, before the three of us took a shower together, with the girls giving me a joint blowjob.

After we'd dried off and dressed, we went downstairs for a late breakfast, and once I'd eaten, I joined Keiko in the front room. We spent a few hours together before I left for my weekly visit with Violet. She and I had dinner together, and after dinner, I headed home to spend time with Keiko.

July 12, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Tuesday, just after 11:00am, the phone on my desk rang.

"FX desk, Kane," I answered.

"Mr. Kane, this is Kazuya Kenji from Kazuya Japanese Designs."

"Good morning, Kazuya-san."

"I have good news! The rings are in my possession, and I will ship them to you today via Registered Express Mail."

It was Tuesday, which meant they would, in all probability, be delivered on Thursday or possibly even Wednesday. In case they were delivered tomorrow, I'd give Jack a letter along with a copy of my license so he could sign for them.

"I'd like you to send them to my office, please. I can't be sure someone would be home to sign for them."

"Certainly! Please provide the address."

I did that, then added, "And please charge the remaining balance to my VISA card."

"I will do so! You should have the rings no later than Friday. I'll call this afternoon with the Registration number."

"Thank you very much!"

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up.

"The rings?" Bianca asked.

"Yes. He's sending them Express and Registered, so they should be here either tomorrow or Thursday. I figured it was safer to have them sent here than have to try to get to the Post Office in Rogers Park."

"That makes sense. Changing topics, do you need anything else from me for your trip tomorrow?"

"I have what I need, thanks. The numbers are important, but in the end, it's the handshake and looking me in the eye that will seal the deal and beating the S&P 500 that will keep them as clients."

Later, after lunch and working out, I received a call from Kazuya-san with the Registration number for the package containing the rings. The Post Office estimated delivery on Thursday, which was perfect. I thanked him, then wrote out a letter of agency for Jack, made a photocopy of my license, and took it to the mail room. That accomplished, I went back to my desk to complete my day's work, and at 5:00pm, Jack, Bianca, and I left the office.

"The rings shipped and should be here by Thursday," I said to Keiko after she greeted me at home.

"Awesome!" she exclaimed.

I went upstairs, changed, then returned downstairs to help Bianca make dinner. After dinner, Keiko and I relaxed in the Japanese room before bed.

July 13, 1983, Overland Park, Kansas

On Wednesday morning, I dropped Jack and Bianca at the office, then drove to Meigs Field to meet Murray Matheson for our flight to Overland Park on the corporate Gulfstream. It was night and day different from my flight to Cincinnati, both in terms of simply walking onto the plane and flight speed, with the flight taking just over an hour.

"Hi, Mr. Kane," James, the driver I'd had on my previous visit, called out.

"Morning, James! This is my boss, Mr. Matheson," I said.

"This way, please."

"You know him?" Mr. Matheson asked.

"He was my driver when I flew here to help Bev."

"Ah, OK. How is she doing?"

"She and the baby's father reconciled and are likely going to marry."

"She's your age, right?"

"A year younger," I replied. "This is a good thing."

"What does he do?"

"Teaches High School math and science."

We reached the Lincoln Town Car, and James opened the doors for us. We got in, he shut the doors, then got into the driver's seat.

"Hereford House, right?" James asked.

"Yes."

"Great steaks," he observed.

Mr. Matheson and I reviewed the presentation I was going to give, finishing just as James pulled up in front of the restaurant.

"Back to the airport at 2:15pm, correct?" he inquired.

"Yes."

I signed his form, added a generous tip, thanked him, then Mr. Matheson and I went into the restaurant.

"Good morning!" a cute young woman exclaimed. "Welcome to Hereford House."

"Jonathan Kane and Murray Matheson to see Paul Gilbert and John Moore," I replied, naming the executives whom Detective Sergeant Thomas had identified.

"Right this way!" she said, flashing a smile.

She led us to a room where a number of men in business suits, along with several uniformed police officers and firefighters, were waiting.

"You could hit that," Mr. Matheson said after the girl left.

"Given I'm asking Keiko to marry me, that would be a very bad plan!"

Detective Sergeant Thomas walked over to us, I introduced Mr. Matheson, and he shook our hands. He led us to a small group of men, which included the two executives, and introduced us. We shook hands, and after brief pleasantries, they asked everyone to take seats. Paul Gilbert introduced us and had a uniformed police officer hand out the packets I'd created to the sixteen attendees.

"Good morning," I said. "My name is Jonathan Kane, manager of Spurgeon Capital's Cincinnatus Fund. With me is Mr. Murray Matheson, Senior Vice President of Spurgeon Capital, head of the Foreign Exchange Desk, and my boss. He, together with Noel Spurgeon, founded Spurgeon Capital in 1971.

"If you turn to the first page of your booklet, you'll see a brief outline of the history of Spurgeon Capital, along with the average annual returns, which have beaten the S&P 500 consistently for the past ten years and have had gains even in so-called 'down markets'. Last year's audited and verified total return was 42%, compared to the S&P 500, which returned just over 20%, and the Dow Jones Industrial Average, which returned just under 20%. Allowing for the management fees, you'd have made about 80% more investing with us than you would have in a stock index fund.

"Page two shows the current returns for the Cincinnatus fund, which are about 50% higher than the projected S&P 500 return, with nearly six months to go. The SEC prohibits us from guaranteeing future results, but as you can see from the Spurgeon track record, we've consistently outperformed the S&P 500 every single year for the past ten years."

"Is it OK to ask questions?" a uniformed firefighter asked.

"Yes, of course," I replied. "Your name?"

"Chief Bill Walsh," he replied. "These funds aren't guaranteed?"

"No. There are guaranteed investment products, but they typically return about a tenth of what our funds have returned. Generally speaking, those investments are insured municipal bonds, and the insurance siphons off more than our management fees. If you look at page five, I've included an example of the difference in returns.

"I'll give a simplified example. If you started with $500, then added $100 a month, and did so for thirty years at the passbook rate, you'd only have around $90,000. If, on the other hand, you earned 20% returns, which is typical for Spurgeon but not guaranteed, you'd have just under $2,000,000 when you're ready to retire."

"Two mil?" a uniformed police officer asked. "From a hundred bucks a month?"

"Yes, Officer..."

"Captain Al Crowe."

"Sorry, Captain. Those numbers are real and show the importance of compounding. There's something you may have heard of called the 'Rule of 72', which is a simplified way of calculating how long it would take for your money to double at a given interest rate. At 5%, that would be just over fourteen years. At 20%, the calculation is slightly different but yields four years. In other words, you would double your money three times over the same period. And those numbers are real, and if you want to see the actual math, which involves natural logarithms, I've included the formula in the appendix."

"Jesus," a man in a business suit muttered.

"Joe Miller," a different man in a business suit said. "I'm the Union treasurer. No insult intended, but how old are you?"

"Twenty," I replied.

Mr. Matheson stood up.

"Don't let his youth deter you," he said. "Jonathan is the best young trader I've ever met, except for the guy who stared back at me in the mirror when I was his age!"

The assembled men all laughed.

"He is the youngest analyst we've ever hired, and he's the youngest person at Spurgeon to ever earn his securities license. And not just one, but two. In the next three years, he'll earn his Branch Manager's license, which allows him to manage other traders. He's that good, gentlemen."

That revelation was news to me and indicated that Mr. Matheson and Mr. Spurgeon had discussed my future in a very positive way.

"Thank you," I said, nodding to Mr. Matheson. "If you turn to page six, you'll see some sample trades and returns that have been made this year. All of them were trades I evaluated and analyzed. Following page six is the fund prospectus, which explains in detail the fees associated with the fund. And on page fourteen is a set of examples which show how those fees would work based on different returns."

"This is accurate?" Chief Walsh asked. "You only collect your twenty percent fee on returns over 8%?"

"Correct," I replied. "That's called the 'hurdle rate' in the prospectus. It guarantees I have serious skin in the game. It's also the case that most of my money is invested in the fund for the same reason."

"We should have him manage the benevolence funds, too," Chief Walsh said.

"Those are charitable?" I inquired.

"Yes."

I'd need to speak to Legal and Compliance, but I was positive that wouldn't be a problem.

"I'm happy to discuss them with you, of course," I replied.

The next forty minutes were spent answering questions, and then Mr. Matheson gave a history of Spurgeon, focusing on client relationships. When he sat down, I was positive we had a done deal. I asked if there were further questions, and there were not, so Paul Gilbert signaled the wait staff to begin serving lunch.

We had a good lunch, and I chatted with the union leadership, who were very curious about my background. I was forthright and reinforced my analytical skills, as well as the depth of experience at Spurgeon on which I could draw. When we finished lunch, Paul Gilbert and John Moore asked us to meet privately with them.

"What do we need to do to make this happen?" John Moore asked.

I smiled, reached into my satchel, took out the filled-out forms, and handed them to him.

"These will need to be signed and notarized. We strongly encourage you to have an attorney review them and contact our Legal Department with any questions or concerns. Once you've signed the forms, fill out the account transfer documents and send everything to me using the pre-paid Federal Express envelope. We'll begin the process of bringing you on board as soon as we receive the documents."

We all shook hands, and Mr. Matheson and I left the restaurant. We had to wait about fifteen minutes for James to arrive, and when he did, we got into the car to head for the airport.

July 13, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

When we arrived back at Meigs, Mr. Matheson and I each got into our cars and, as it was early enough in the afternoon, headed for the Hancock Center, where we went straight to Noel Spurgeon's office.

"He nailed it," Mr. Matheson said. "I mean, the kid is a natural. And not just $18 mil from their pension fund, another three from the benevolence fund is on offer."

"Good job, Kane," Mr. Spurgeon said. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you," I replied.

"How's your girlfriend?"

"She starts her next round of chemo on Monday," I replied. "My sensitive leave begins on Monday."

"The Overland Park folks will call me if there are any concerns," Mr. Matheson said.

"Excellent work, both of you. Go make some money!"

Mr. Matheson and I left Noel Spurgeon's office, and on the way downstairs, I stopped at the mailroom. The rings had been delivered, which made me happy. I took the box with me to 29 and invited Bianca to see them. We went into the conference room, and I opened the package and extracted two ring boxes.

"Whoa!" Bianca gasped when I opened the boxes. "Those are gorgeous!"

"Keiko knew exactly what she wanted, and I have to say these are amazing."

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

I put the rings in my suit coat pocket and went to my desk to work for about an hour before Bianca, Jack, and I left the office.

Forty minutes later, I walked into the house. I greeted Keiko and asked her to come to the Japanese room with me. She followed me into the room, and I took the ring boxes from my pocket and opened them so she could see.

"Keiko-chan, «結婚してください» (Kekkon shite kudasai)?" ("Will you marry me?")