I’ve always liked airplanes. When I was 8 or so I used to spend hours drawing World War II airplanes, camouflaging them in crayon colors. I built model airplanes and hung them with fishing line from the dropped ceiling in my bedroom. The first time I flew, and we got above the clouds, it was like I saw the sun for the first time. Totally peaceful. Clouds shimmered and floated in almost suspended animation. I have never seen anything so pure as that sunrise. Complete peace, at least, until the businessman next to me started yakking on the phone in the airplane to one of his cronies about the Nikkei and other Wall Street mumbo jumbo. Thank god for the beverage cart.

Bailey was at the gate waiting when I got in. It was one of his slightly embarrassing greetings again, but I didn’t mind. It was good to be in the California air, especially after leaving Minnesota’s February cruelness. The flight was ok, and I didn’t drink too much like I usually did.

Bailey smacked me on the back with his hand, "Buddy, I’m so jazzed that you’re here. You’re going to love sunny California. I bet you’ll never leave."

"In that case I packed way too light."

As we walked to the baggage claim area, Bailey was talking a mile a minute. I wondered how he could go that fast without breathing.

"But, um, oh, yeah! There’s this band I’m taking you to see tonight, you’ll really like them, just your type of stuff. Man, I’m glad you’re here."

"Me too. This conference came at a good time. I’m really tired of the kiddies right now." English Composition 101 was never my favorite to teach. Colin was true to his word, talked to the Dean and got me a contract for the year. Rumor was it that one of the old guard was going to retire and there would be a permanent opening. Permanency wasn’t a concept I was too thrilled with, though.

We grabbed my bags and roared off on the freeway in Bailey’s convertible. Why was I not surprised that he had a convertible? How California. "When’d you get the car?"

"About a month ago. Isn’t she great?"

"She?"

"Of course, do you think I’d be seen in a male car?"

"Are you telling me that there are male and female cars? Bailey, you’ve been sitting out in the sun too long."

"No, I haven’t been in the sun too long, and fuckin’-a right there are male and female cars. This baby’s female all the way. Look at those fenders. She loves it."

I missed the clue. "Women love this Volkswagen Bug convertible?"

"Sure, every hot shot around has some expensive, cool car. I’m different. It helped get my foot in the door."

"So how many are you involved with now. Five?"

"Only one."

"One? Are you limiting yourself? Are you on a diet or something?"

"Cut the crap Carter, just one."

"Don’t tell me you’re serious about this one?"

He glanced over at me briefly. "Yes, this one is serious."

"How serious, marriage serious?"

His face changed slightly. There was a definite pause. "Maybe."

"When?"

"Don’t know yet."

"Ok, is this a don’t know because she hasn’t said yes yet, or a don’t know because you haven’t asked her yet, or a don’t know because you don’t know her name yet? Or did you forget her name?"

"Bite me."

"Can’t. You’d wreck."

Bailey looked straight ahead. "Do you remember me telling you about a girl on my show?"

"The girl on ‘Angel’ is who you’re marrying?"

"Yeah. Yeah, its her. She’s eighteen now, but we have to wait for a while. At least until summer hiatus."

I could hear the wind rippling the top of the Volkswagen. I never thought I’d hear these words. I couldn’t get married but Mister Swinger could.

He glanced over at the traffic, and looked at me for a minute. "She’s waiting at my place. She wants to meet you."

I rolled down the window a crack and lit a cigarette. "Wow. What happened to tasting the rainbow?"

"I don’t remember that."

"You were blitzed, it doesn’t surprise me. We were drinking in the office back in Minnesota and you told me women were like Skittles, that you need to taste the rainbow. Women of all shapes, creeds, colors, breast size, everything. That until you’ve sampled all of the rainbow, that you couldn’t settle down with one woman."

"Well, I was drunk. And I was wrong. Here we are."

It was a neat little bungalow, white with green trim. Smallish fenced in yard, nice, nicer than I expected. There was a white BMW convertible in the driveway.When she finished, I picked her up in my arms.

"What are you doing, Carter?"

"Taking my wife upstairs. We have some unfinished business."

"Carter..."

"Tomorrow Karen’s coming. We’ll go down to the courthouse and get married after that. Then we have to decide what we want to do next."

Catherine nestled her head against my neck as I walked up the stairs. I half expected a loft above a furniture store or something. I’m not sure why. We grabbed my bags and headed in. I could hear the music blasting away as Bailey opened the door. We deposited my stuff on the couch and Bailey led me towards the kitchen. She was swaying to the music, making spaghetti. Bailey sneaked up behind her and gave her a kiss.

"Hi honey!" She turned and looked at me. "This must be Carter."

I couldn’t fault him, she was exquisite. About 5’10" or so, long straight blonde hair, great figure, and a very pretty face. She didn’t even have on any makeup.

Bailey turned down the CD player with a remote control. "Carter, I’d like you to meet Gabi Winston. Gabi, this is Carter."

I went to shake her hand and she gave me a hug. I hadn’t been this close to a woman since that night with Catherine. I couldn’t think about it now.

Gabi was pure energy, working on supper, chatting with Bailey, asking my opinion on how to fix the garlic bread, dancing. Supper was a blur, Gabi and Bailey talking 100 miles an hour about their show, what they had planned for my visit. We killed 3 bottles of wine. After we had finished, I started the dishes.

"Carter, you don’t have to do that. Joshua and I can do that, you’re a guest."

"That’s ok Gabi, I don’t mind."

Bailey started laughing. I looked over my shoulder. "What?"

"Um, Carter, we have a dishwasher."

I started laughing. It was funny, I had to admit it. I was just so used to the house.

The doorbell rang and Gabi raced for the door. I looked at Bailey, but he just smiled like an old bhudda. I was finishing the last pot when Gabi walked in with another girl. "Carter, I’d like you to meet Amanda. Amanda, this is Carter."

I looked at Bailey, and he smiled harder, if that was possible.

She walked over to shake my hand. I dried my hand on the dishtowel that I had draped over my shoulder and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you." She was very pretty. "Um, I’d better finish these dishes."

"Sure, I’m sorry. Josh, how have you been? Gabi said that you’ve been working on a new screenplay?"

Gabi and Amanda grilled Bailey on his screenplay while I finished the last pot, searching for somewhere to sit it to let it dry. I ended up putting the dishtowel on the counter and setting the pot on top of it. I turned around and looked at her. If Bailey picked her, he did well. Amanda looked like an actress or a model, but I wasn’t sure if that’s how every woman looked out here. I guessed her age at about 21. Possibly Latino, and I was guessing my date for the night.

Gabi and Amanda got up together after whispering for a few minutes. "Joshie, we have to go get ready. C’mon Amanda." They went out of the kitchen to what I was guessing was the bedroom. I poured myself another glass of wine and sat down at the table across from Bailey.

"You set me up on a blind date?"

He laughed softly. "Sure did. If it was up to you, you probably wouldn’t date for the next 20 years. So what do you think of Gabi?"

"She’s better looking than on TV."

"So you’ve watched the show?"

"Yep, I had to read really fast to see your name on the end credits. I had to see if your show was a piece of shit or not."

"And?"

"Well, its not MASH, but it’s pretty well done."

Bailey smiled, and poured himself another glass of wine. "You wouldn’t know it now, because she’s all psyched up to go out, but there really is a brain in there. She’s pretty well read, she’s not just a bubble-head."

"That’s pretty surprising, knowing your track record."

His face changed. "Cut that shit out. I’m not like that anymore." He stroked his new-looking goatee. "I had to get tested about a year ago."

I felt the temperature drop. "AIDS?"

"Yeah, girl I used to date got it through a needle. I didn’t know she was a junkie. We only went out a few times, but, well, it got interesting." He looked at the table for a minute. He got up and got an ashtray out of a drawer and set it on the table. "You got a smoke I can bum?"

"Sure." I fished the pack out of my khakis and pulled out two, handed him one. "You start back up?" Bailey had e-mailed me that he had quit a while back.

"I just feel like one, ok?"

"Whoa, no problem."

He lit the smoke, exhaled smoothly. "When’s the last time you saw her?"

Now it was my turn to stare blankly for a moment. "September."

Gabi and Amanda came bounding into the room. I had expected major Barbie doll mini-skirts and heels, the stereotypical Hollywood bimbo thing, but I was pleasantly surprised. Both had on jeans. Gabi was wearing one of Bailey’s shirts. Actually it was my shirt, he had stolen it from me up in Minnesota. It was kind of funny, here was one of America’s TV sweethearts wearing one of my old shirts. Amanda had on a black turtleneck with a camel hair blazer, penny loafers. Her hair was pulled back in ponytail.

Gabi jumped in Bailey’s lap. "Guess what?"

Bailey tickled her. "What?"

"I feel like dancing."

Great. We were going dancing. Besides the fact that I really wasn’t that good of a dancer, I wasn’t sure about Amanda. Maybe it was all too soon. Get a grip, Carter. It’s just a double-date. A double-date. I felt like I was in high school. Was homecoming in the gym again this year? God, I felt old.

It was a very enjoyable night. Instead of the wild rock and roll/alternative scene that I was expecting, Gabi drove us to this old ballroom that played big band music. Amanda and I danced a few times, and I didn’t completely embarrass myself. What really surprised me was when the first slow song began, Gabi grabbed me and pulled me out to the dance floor.

"Carter, I’m really glad you’re here. Josh couldn’t wait for your visit. You’re probably his best friend, do you know that?"

"Yeah, I know. He’s my best friend. Hell, he was even my best man." Shit. Why did I say that?

Gabi lowered her eyes. "I know. He told me."

Great. Now what. "Hey, what’s America’s TV darling doing in this place?"

Her head tilted to the side and she giggled a bit. "First, I’m not America’s darling. I’m not that popular. Anyway, I come here because I don’t get mobbed by fans wanting my autograph. Josh and I can actually be normal here."

Bailey was right. She did surprise you. I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Mind if I cut in, old man?"

"Be my guest, old bean."

I walked back to the table, but Amanda wasn’t there. Great, this would be just like when I was in college and my roommate set me up with one of his girlfriend’s sorority sisters, and when we went out together all she did was talk to fraternity guys she knew.

I watched Bailey and Gabi danced. He was happy, anyone could see that. I just hope that this was it. I didn’t want to see Bailey soured on love. Like me?

"Oh, you’re back. Bombay Sapphire and tonic, right?" It was Amanda. She sat down next to me. "I know this may be a little awkward, I know I haven’t been out on a double-date since high school."

When was that, 3 years ago? "That’s ok. It’s just weird for me to be out. I don’t usually go out much."

"Don’t worry. I don’t either. If it wasn’t for Gabi, I’d probably never go out."

I liked her smile. There was nothing hidden in it. "So how do you know Gabi?"

"You’re not going to believe this. Nobody ever does. Ok, Gabi and I met in a department store dressing room."

"What?"

"You heard me. I was in Saks trying on a dress for my aunt’s wedding when the dressing room door opens and she comes in. I was surprised to say the least."

"She walked in on you?"

"Yep, I didn’t get the door shut all the way. She was so embarrassed that when she tried to leave in a hurry that her purse got stuck on the door and it about ripped her arm off. So there we were, in the dressing room, her purse caught on the door and me half-naked. All we could do was laugh. I was 15, she was 12. We’ve been best friends ever since."

I was doing that closed mouth laughing thing. I couldn’t look at Amanda.

"Yes, I know its funny, but it’s not that funny."

"Sorry, I was just trying to picture the look on your face when she walked in."

She smiled and took another drink.

"What are you drinking, Amanda?"

"Bombay and tonic. It sounded good to me, too."

Gabi and Bailey came back to the table. When I looked at her I started laughing.

"Oh shit, she told you the Saks story, didn’t she?"

"Well..."

"Amanda Louise Sanchez, I hate you."

Bailey got up to go get drinks, and Gabi went with him. Alone again. I wasn’t as nervous this time.

So, Amanda Louise Sanchez, tell me about yourself."

"Oh no, not after the Saks story. It’s your turn. But first I’ll tell you what I know about you. Your name is Carter Woodbury. You teach English at Central Minnesota State Community College. You design web pages for museums and other businesses. You recently traded in your car for a ‘62 Chevy pickup. You are not afraid of doing dishes. You dance ok, and you drink good gin. You’re here in town because there’s a conference about teaching and the internet at UCLA that starts in a couple of days. You’re Josh’s best friend, and..."

"And I almost got married last summer. It’s ok. It’s not a taboo subject." Liar. You’ve just met this woman (girl, woman?) and you’re going to pour your heart out if you don’t watch how much you drink. She’s nice, and dangerously good looking. You haven’t even told Bailey the whole story yet. "Bailey was my best man. It didn’t end well."

"I’m sorry. I..."

"She left me at the altar." I lit a cigarette, and looked at Amanda. Too soon, this was too soon. I wanted to run, take a cab, but I had no idea in hell where I was at, and where Bailey’s place was. Shit, I was a perfect gentleman. "Do you mind if I smoke?"

"No, it doesn’t bother me. I might bum one off of you later."

"Sure."

Bailey and Gabi got back, drinkless. Bailey wasn’t very happy. "Ok, I know they won’t let her buy a drink, but why not me? I’m definitely old enough?"

"Because I was there, honey." Gabi was stroking his arm. "They don’t want to be the one who gets in trouble for selling booze to you to give to me."

I stood up. "Bailey, let’s go to a coffeehouse. They’ve got to have those here, don’t they?"

Amanda stood up as well. "Let’s go to Java Johnny’s. It’s a quiet place."

It was then when I noticed the people staring at Gabi. Then I saw the photographers. When I pointed them out, Gabi got nervous.

"Josh, we need to leave. You know what the studio will say if our pictures get in the tabloids, not to mention Mom."

Bailey was in crisis mode. I’d seen him like this a couple of times before, mostly when he was dating three girls at once, and one of them was a former student. "Ok, here’s the plan. Gabi and I will take a cab. Here’s the keys to the car, Amanda. You and Carter go to Java Johnny’s and we’ll meet you in a couple of hours. We’ve got to shake these guys." He looked at me. "Sorry buddy, like I told you in the car, we’ve got to keep this pretty quiet for a while."

And with that Amanda and I were left looking at photographers trying to cut across the dance floor, chasing them out the side door.

The couch was pretty comfortable. As far as couches go, that is. Amanda’s apartment was nice, nothing fancy, but nice. I felt relaxed for the first time in ages. On the way to Java Johnny’s Gabi called Amanda on her cellular, said that there were photographers outside Josh’s house, so we couldn’t go there. They had stopped by her Mom and Dad’s to borrow their Buick, figuring that would throw the paparazzi off the trail, but it didn’t work. Gabi said that she would call her in the morning, and oh, would it be ok if Carter crashed at your apartment? I was feeling setup, that Bailey had planned this, trying to throw me together with Amanda. I knew that wasn’t the case, but that’s how it felt.

Amanda came in to the living room with a pair of baggy shorts and an REM t-shirt for me. "I’m pretty sure these’ll fit you. I like my workout shorts baggy." She wasn’t a stick, she had shape, so I was sure that the shorts would fit. She sat on the chair across from the couch.

"Thanks. I’m really sorry about this. Don’t worry about me, I’ll just stay on the couch."

"I’m not worried. If you were Joshua before he met Gabi, then I would be worried."

"You knew him before he met Gabi?"

"Yeah, he dated a girl I work with. He met Gabi at one of her parties."

"Was that before or after he started working on her show?"

"After. It was weird, they bumped into each other and just started talking. She couldn’t believe that she hadn’t met him on the set already. They’ve been inseparable ever since. I know they’ll be happy."

"So they really are getting married, then?"

"Yeah, they really are. Has Josh changed much since the last time you saw him?"
"Tremendously. He didn’t talk about scoring with chicks or comment about every woman’s breast size when he picked me up at the airport. I knew something was up."

She looked at her watch. "I know its late, but I’m really not that tired. Would you like that coffee we missed out on?"

"Yeah, that would be good. Even with the time difference, I’m not tired at all." I hadn’t been sleeping much lately anyway. Just a couple hours at a stretch. I probably averaged about 5 total, though not consecutive, hours a night. I watched her walk into the kitchen. She draped her blazer over the chair, kicked off her shoes and went into the bedroom. She came back out wearing a white t-shirt, jeans, and no socks. I followed her into the kitchen. "Can I help you with something? Grind the beans?"

"Well, I don’t have a grinder, but you can get me a filter out of the cupboard over there." I was surprised. A plain old drip coffee woman. I felt interested and guilty all at the same time. We sat at the kitchen table while the coffee brewed. There was a little pause before anyone said anything. The uncomfortable pause that happens when people don’t really know each other. I decided that I would break this up. If I didn’t, I’d just keep staring at her which is a good way to look like a potential stalker.

"So what did Bailey tell you about me?"

"Let’s see. I already told you the basics back at the ballroom. Um, you live in plaid shirts, you’re a big baseball fan and you make good omelets. You turn 30 in August, and you’re starting to get paranoid about losing your hair. He also told me that you are a very good poet, and you’re working on a novel, but you don’t write as much as you should." She half stood up and folded one leg underneath herself. "I’ve read some of your stuff, and it is good."

"Let me guess, the stuff that Bailey had? Please don’t tell me..."

"Yes, I read everything."

"Great. I wasn’t sure about that stuff."

"Well, it is good. Let’s see. That if you had your way to spend an afternoon, I’d most likely find you on the couch drinking coffee and reading a novel, or wandering around a museum. That you tried to teach Josh how to pheasant hunt in Iowa one time, and he about shot a barn. And that you have a, how should I say it, unique housing arrangement."

She was right on all counts, except maybe the poetry. I wasn’t satisfied with it yet. And she’d led into the whole Catherine thing.

"All true."

Amanda got up and went to the counter. "Do you want some more coffee?"

"Sure."

She poured us both a fresh cup, and motioned me towards the living room. "Its more comfortable in here. Those chairs make my butt hurt if I sit on them too long."

I sat on the couch, and she sat on the nearby chair, once again folding a leg underneath. She pulled her long black hair out of the ponytail, and ran her fingers through it, straightening it out over her left shoulder. I knew it was going to come up again, so I figured I might as well start it.

"It is true that I have a different housing arrangement. It used to be Catherine’s house, then it was mine, now its her sister’s. They haven’t sold their other house yet, so I’m still living there. So is Catherine. Or, she was. Anyway, Karen, her sister, said that she still feels bad for what happened between Catherine and me, so she lets me live there. Told me that she couldn’t make me go out and get an apartment if nobody was there."

"Isn’t she there?"

"No. She was for about a month, then she left to go see another sister in Las Vegas that nobody has seen for years. She didn’t tell me she was leaving, just left me a note, again."

Amanda folded her other leg underneath to the same side, and cupped her coffee cup with both hands, sipping gently. She brushed her hair back over her shoulder. "If you don’t want to talk about this, its ok."

"No, its ok. I don’t mind."

"Didn’t she leave you a note at the wedding?"

"Yeah, she did. Do you mind if I smoke in here?"

"No, I’ll open a window. Ashtray is in the drawer below the coffeemaker."

I went into the kitchen and opened the drawer, searched around until I found the ashtray. Holiday Inn. Some things never change. When I went back into the living room, there was a nice breeze, cool but not too cold. I realized then that I had been sweating. I pulled a smoke from the pack and lit up. I really should quit this damn habit. I’d been smoking way too much since the wedding. Or non-wedding.

"So what about you, Amanda Louise Sanchez?"

"Well, you already know my full name. The Louise is for my Grandmother. I’m a senior at UCLA, majoring in accounting. I graduate in June. My father works at a bank and my mom is a secretary. I have a younger sister who’s a high school senior. I work at an insurance office doing secretary stuff to help pay for college. Never been married. My last serious boyfriend was my freshman year. Gabi and I are best friends, and I’m going to be her maid of honor at her wedding. Besides that, nothing much."

I sat and drank my coffee, looking at her. I didn’t know what to think. Here was this girl/woman who was almost 9 years younger than I was, and I was going to be sleeping on her couch. It was the first time I’d been in the same room with an attractive, single woman who wasn’t a student since the end of August. Bailey was nowhere to be found, and I didn’t know another soul in the entire city. What did I get myself into?

"Carter, do you want to watch a movie? I rented some videos this afternoon..."

"Just in case I was this dull ugly guy?"

"Um, well, actually yes."

"And?"

"Well, I don’t think you’re dull."

"Gee, thanks."

We spent the rest of the evening watching, of all things, Humphrey Bogart movies. First it was The Big Sleep, then The Maltese Falcon. All the copies of Casablanca were out, she said. At about 3:00, I started to yawn.

"I’m sorry, you’ve had a long day, with the flight in and the time change and everything. I’ll let you get some sleep. My first class isn’t until 1 tomorrow, so I’ll be around in the morning." She got up. "Good night."

"Good night, Amanda. Thanks for letting me crash here." I stood up. "I had a good time tonight."

"Me too."

I woke early up the next morning with Amanda shaking my arm. Bailey was on the phone. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Amanda stumbled back into her room, wearing only a big t-shirt. I was awake.

"This better be good, Bailey."

"It is, buddy, oh baby it is. Gabi and I got married last night."

"What?"

"We drove out to Vegas and got married. By Elvis, no less. How cool is that?"

"Hold on, let me wake up a minute." I stood up and stretched, looked out the window to see a basic, bland apartment parking lot just like all other apartment parking lots all over America. Only problem was that the sun was so damn bright. "So you and Gabi drove to Vegas and got married. Does anybody else know?"

"Only Elvis and the organist. You’re the first person I’ve told. Go get Amanda on the phone, I’ll have Gabi tell her."

I walked down the hall and knocked on Amanda’s door. "Amanda, Gabi wants to talk to you."

"I’m trying to go back to sleep. Tell her I’ll call her later."

"You’ll want to take this call."

"Ok, hold on a minute."

After some rustling around she opened the door wearing a robe, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. I handed her the phone. As expected, she was excited. What I didn’t expect was that she started crying. She hung up the phone and went into the bathroom for a Kleenex.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I’ll be all right. I’m just so happy for her. She really loves Josh. I’ve never seen her so happy. Her mother is going to freak out, though."

"So what’s the plan now?"

"They’re going back to Josh’s place and want us to meet them there in about an hour. They’re on their way back now. Gabi told me where the spare key is hidden. Would you start the coffee, I’m going to go take a shower. I just can’t believe this!"

I went into the kitchen and started the coffee, but I couldn’t get over Bailey. He didn’t even tell me he was going to do it. Damn him, I wanted to be there if he was going to get married, but I had always figured that was going to be well into the future. Amanda was happy, and she looked good in the morning, even in the robe.

Bailey was beaming when they walked in. Amanda and Gabi were hugging, crying, laughing, you name it. It was weird, seeing him like this. Actually, it was just weird, because here were these three people who hang out all the time, and then there was me. My conference started tomorrow, and I didn’t even know how to get there yet. So far everything was good concerning the wedding, there weren’t any photographers outside the house, and nothing was in the paper.

After a while, I went in and took a shower, left them to themselves. I needed new clothes anyway. When I came back out, Amanda and Gabi were gone, and Bailey was popping the cork off of a bottle of champagne.

"Um, isn’t it a little early for champagne?"

"Not when I just got married, you idiot. Here, have a coffee mug of champagne."

I gave him a hug and told him that I was happy. We sat down in the living room, and he couldn’t sit still.

"So, you’re a married man."

"Yep. Married man. I’ve even got a ring and everything."

"Um, you have a ring? Where did you get a ring?"

"Believe it or not, off a guy in the street in Vegas. You can buy anything at anytime out there."

"Bailey, it’s probably stolen."

"Oh, thanks for the downer. I thought it was pretty romantic."

"What about Gabi’s ring?"

"I’ve had that for a month or so."

Wow. He really was serious. This might work out. "So what’s next?"

"I don’t know. We haven’t figured out where we’re going to live yet. Gabi and Amanda were going over to tell her mom. I offered to go, but she wouldn’t let me. Her mom is going to flip."

"What’s the deal with her mom, anyway?"

"She’s trying to keep her daughter’s image squeaky-clean. She’s afraid that she’ll be sticking up liquor stores in a few years if she doesn’t. She wants her to get a part in a Disney movie, and she’s paranoid about Gabi’s image."

"Sounds like a wonderful new mother-in-law you have there."
"Oh yeah."

The conference went pretty well, I took some notes and met some people. Did the networking thing you have to do in academia. I didn’t see Amanda for the rest of my visit, but she told Bailey to give me her phone number and e-mail address. I was at Bailey’s house when the story of the marriage broke. Someone had found the information on the internet, and things went nuts. Bailey was at work and I was alone in his place when the doorbell rang. I answered it and had about 20 microphones stuck in my face. I told them that I had no comment, and saw myself on the local news later that night. At least I was presentable when I answered the door. Bailey and Gabi did a joint statement that I helped write, which they released through her agent. This felt like something out a movie. Why not, I was in California. Maybe I’d do the F. Scott Fitzgerald and William Faulkner thing, be a writer for the movies and drink myself to death. Well, no, but there’s always that doomed-romantic writer thing to fall back on.

Minnesota was cold when I got back, colder than I had ever imagined. Colin met me at the door and helped me bring in my bags. He was my house sitter when I was gone.

"I didn’t think you’d come back, Carter. I figured that you would be lying on a beach, sipping some sort of drink with an umbrella, scheduling lunches at Spago’s with starlets."

"Actually, I did meet a TV star. She married Bailey."

"Goodness gracious! You didn’t prepare me for that in the least, you know."

"I know. It was worth it to see your face." We went into the kitchen. Colin had coffee ready, thank God.

"So Carter, how was the conference?"

"Don’t you want to know about Bailey?"

"Business before pleasure."

I spent the next 45 minutes or so filling Colin in on the conference. He thought we might be able to use an intranet in the English Department for distributing syllabi, procedures, stuff like that. Of course he suggested that I head up that project. "Make you look indispensable to the Chair, you know."

I wasn’t too sure about that. "Colin, you know I love Minnesota, but right now I’m not too sure about things."

"I was going to talk to you about that. You need to move out of this place. Find your own house. Do you believe in ghosts?"

"What?"

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

"Actually, yes, I do."

"Carter, the ghosts of your relationship with Catherine is haunting this house. You need to move to someplace new, someplace free of these ghosts."

I took a sip of coffee. "Colin, I think you’re right."

"Of course I am. Now, tell me about Bailey."

I spent the next hour regaling Colin with my visit to Bailey, meeting Gabi and Amanda. I didn’t tell him too much about Amanda. Close to the end of my tale we had moved from coffee to beer.

"So, Colin, will you help me look for someplace?"

"Of course, I have about 3 houses in mind for a couple of weeks now. Of course, they’re not like this wonderful palace."

"Fine with me. This place is just too damn big."

There is nothing as beautiful as a Minnesota spring. You almost give up hope of it ever getting there, you just expect that omnipresent grey to hang over your head forever, the sun to stay behind the clouds, and that cold wind to always be blowing in your face. Then, when the sun breaks through, the skies clear, and the first warm breeze floats over your face, you can’t help but be in a good mood. I was in a good mood that spring, walking across campus to my office. It didn’t matter that I had to park in the lot affectionately known as Guam, it was so far away. It didn’t matter that I had a mountain of papers to grade, it was spring. No more scraping the ice off of the car window, no more Antarctic-grade coats, ice-fisherman boots. The trees were actually starting to get leaves. It was a good walk to the office. I could have walked from my house, but I had too many papers today.

Colin had found a little 2 bedroom house about 4 blocks from campus. There was a fraternity house a few blocks away, but besides that it was very comfortable. Circe had plenty of windows, and a window seat, to keep her occupied. There was plenty of room for my books and computer in the upstairs bedroom, and the kitchen was large. No garage, which in Minnesota isn’t fun, but the price was right.

Birds were actually singing. The bookstore was full, and the movie theater close to campus was showing a Woody Allen film festival this weekend. Life is good. And Amanda called me last night. Yes. I’d been thinking about her a lot, but I didn’t want to push something that I wasn’t sure was there. Sure, Bailey told me that she really liked me, but hell, what can you know after one night? Yeah, we did spend a lot of time together, and I crashed on her couch and was a gentleman, but how can you tell? Like I can trust my gut feelings anymore, look at the whole Catherine thing. No, I’m not going to think about her, Amanda called me. Shit, here I am going to be thirty in June and I’m acting like a sixteen year old kid. Go figure.

Colin was working on his PC when I got in the office. After setting my stuff down, I checked my e-mail. 22 e-mails. Great, like I have time to wade through all of this. I checked through the senders, junk mail, junk mail, student, student, my brother Brett. That was surprising. After opening it, I couldn’t believe it. Now Brett was getting married, to his high school sweetheart from Des Moines. They had hooked up a few years ago at their ten year high school reunion, she was living in Des Moines. They went out while he was visiting from Texas, picked up where they left off from high school, and now they were getting married. It was in Des Moines in April, and I was to be a groomsman with my little bro’ Mike. It’s going to be a big deal, ballroom dancing, the whole bit. Brett said that he was traveling or else he would have called me, but he thought it would be easier to reach me via email anyway. Oh, and bring a date.

I sat back in my chair and made one of those surprised and astonished guttural sounds like Dad makes, when Colin walked over.

"Good news or bad news?"

"My big brother’s getting married in April in Des Moines. I’m a groomsman and I need a date."

"Sorry, contrary to popular belief I am not gay, so I can’t help you there."

"Very funny. Who am I going to ask?"

"Ask that Amanda girl you met in California. You seemed to like her very much."

"Oh yeah, I’m sure she’ll want to travel to Iowa to stay with a guy she met once."

"Maybe Mr. and Mrs. Bailey will want to come visit as well."

I thought about it for a minute. "Colin, you may have something there."

"Of course I do. Don’t I always?"

"Always, my friend, always."

I emailed Bailey with the suggestion, and much to my surprise he thought it was a good idea. He and Gabi worked the trip into a personal appearance for her in Des Moines (the network wanted to pick up the midwest ratings) and floated Amanda’s ticket as well. She was Gabi’s "personal assistant" or some such thing. Anyway, they booked their flights. I bought Pepto-Bismol.

I was sitting at home, reading a weekly baseball magazine that afternoon. Nothing much had gone on, even on a Saturday. Brett’s wedding was next weekend, so I had nothing much that I absolutely had to do. Circe and I had vacuumed the upstairs, actually I vacuumed and she ran like hell. I barbecued some bratwursts and watched some of the Braves spring training game. That reminded me that my Braves hat was getting pretty beat up, so I drove to the sporting goods store and bought a new one. I also bought a Washington Senators and St. Louis Browns hats. I like the old hats, the ones that would be appropriate about 40 or 50 years ago. Helped hide my slightly growing bald spot. I was comfortable. I had my cat, my books, baseball, papers to grade, full liquor cabinet, some good cigars, ESPN, Elvis Costello on the CD player, life was good. Anyway, I was reading about this hot hitting third baseman down in Georgia when the doorbell rang.

Great. Who was bugging me now? I was enjoying my day. I wasn’t prepared for who was at the door.

"Bailey! Gabi, Amanda, what are you guys doing here?"

Bailey laughed and looked at me. I didn’t say anything. He cleared his throat, "Um, can we come in?"

"Sure, sure, come in."

I know that I had to have been staring at Amanda. She was wearing jeans and a UCLA sweatshirt. Gabi and Bailey were still giddy newlyweds. They were sick. Not really, but I really wanted to talk to Amanda. Instead, there was the obvious. "So what are you guys doing here? Brett’s wedding isn’t until the 19th?"

Bailey started. "Well, we thought it would be a nice surprise..."

Then Gabi. "And I had a break in shooting for a while, the director had a nervous breakdown or something."

Then Amanda. "And I had spring break, so we decided to come out early and see Minnesota, then drive down to Iowa with you."

Wow, this was too cool. I definitely was not expecting this.

"Um, only one problem old buddy. The airline lost Amanda’s luggage." It was Bailey. "We gave them your address, because we don’t have a hotel yet."

Amanda broke in. "And I can’t wear Miss Barbie-waist-movie star’s clothes, so I guess I have to borrow some stuff or do some serious shopping."

"I’m not going out, Amanda. Joshie and I are just going to cocoon. Take Carter with you. Besides, I really don’t want to go shopping with you. You know we never agree on anything except shoes." Gabi was sitting in Josh’s lap. It was obvious that they were in love. I just hoped it would last.

Bailey picked up Gabi and sat her down on the other couch cushion. "Hey man, enough chit-chat. On to the important things. What do you have to eat, what kind of booze do you have, and what do you want to do tonight?"

It was a great week. Everybody stayed over at my house, Gabi and Bailey stayed in my room, Amanda took the couch and I slept upstairs in the small bedroom. I went shopping with Amanda and helped her pick out clothes. Unfortunately, I had to give my honest opinion or she said that she wouldn’t speak to me. I know she tested me on the plaid leather mini-skirt and polka-dot shirt, which I have to say, was probably the single most putrid outfit for women that I have ever seen. Besides that, we went to the Woody Allen film festival which was still playing. During "Manhattan" Amanda took my hand in hers, right as Gershwin swelled and the black and white cityscape of Manhattan filled the screen. Too perfect. I know my pulse had to be about a million over a zillion.

Bailey and I decided to go out and have a beer by ourselves. "You boys go out and leave us alone. We have things to talk about." And with that, Gabi shooed us out of the house. We went to Annie’s, a bar close to campus that everybody in the English department frequents.

After ordering our second beer, Bailey asked what had been on his mind for a while. "So Carter, what happened with you and Catherine?"

I took a big drink of the beer. It always tastes better from the tap. "It’s hard to say. After the wedding didn’t happen, I just hung around the house for a while. I didn’t do anything, just drank and watched a lot of TV. I went camping with Colin and on the Fourth of July she came back. For a while it was good, I’d wake up and she’d be in my arms. I didn’t really ask to many questions. She told me that she found her missing sister in Las Vegas, and that she wanted to go see her." I took another drink and looked at Bailey. I could read nothing from his face. "Since I owned the house now, I sold it to Karen for exactly one dollar. Catherine didn’t want the house anymore, and she always thought it should go to Karen. Karen was selling her house, so she said that we could stay there as long as we wanted to. For a while it was pretty good. Then one day I woke up and found a note on the nightstand, saying that she had gone out to Vegas to find her sister, that she had to try and put everything back together again. She left me another damn note." I finished the beer. "After that, Colin helped me get my teaching job, I saw you in California, and I moved to the new house. That’s about it."

Bailey looked at me seriously, like he was trying to learn algebra for the first time. "Man, that’s the Cliff Notes plot outline. What happened?"

"I don’t know Bailey. Sometimes it felt like I was just along for the ride, that I was the faithful dog in the cartoon that waits for the family to get home for years, waiting on the doorstep for her return. I can’t figure it out sometimes."

"Carter, since we’re good friends I think I can tell you this without you getting pissed. I think there are women in our lives that we will never understand, the ones that have this strange kind of hold on us, the ones that we will do anything for, and never ask questions. It’s almost like we’re just so grateful that they’re with us that we are captivated by them. It’s almost like some voodoo-magic-9½ weeks kind of thing. I think that’s what Catherine was, this siren who wooed you to her island with her song. And like the dumb sailors we all are, you couldn’t leave."

I wasn’t sure how to take this. "I remember the fucking Odyssey."

"Right, I know man, but come on, do you see what I’m talking about?"

"I guess."

"My ass you guess. It’s true. It’s happened to all of us at one time or another. Remember Claire Morgan?"

I signaled the bartender for two more. "Who?"

"Claire Morgan. Short brown hair, pretty face, nice tits? Freckles?"

"Wasn’t she the one you met at the movies?"

"Yeah, that’s her. Man, I had it bad. Whatever she wanted, she got. I just went along with everything. It was like I was underwater or something, everything was blurred when I was with her, some kind of heightened sensitivity to what’s going on, but never really paying attention. You know what I mean? It was great while it lasted. Man, we all have our voodoo women. Catherine was just your voodoo woman. Now, don’t get me wrong, I always liked her. She had a nice ass. Anyway, she was just your voodoo woman. That’s it."

The bartender put down two more beers. "Maybe you’re right Bailey. But you know the worst part is? After being with her for that long, I knew her history, her family traditions, the habits, it was like being a part of the family, then getting a divorce."

"Hey, that’s what it’s always like when you break up, you always miss that stuff. S’life, man, that’s it." Bailey lit a cigarette. "You want one?"

"No thanks. Quit."

"Really? Since when?"

"Since I came back from California."

"Amanda?"

"What?"

"Amanda doesn’t like it?"

"No, that’s not it. Just got tired of it."

Bailey took an exaggerated inhale, blew a smoke ring. "Bet you can’t sit through a Humphrey Bogart movie."

I didn't look at him, just the beer. "You’re probably right."

"So, man, what about Amanda?"

"What about her?"

"You obviously like her."

"Well, yeah. Who wouldn’t?"

Bailey laughed. "We need some whiskey. Anyway, I think she likes you. She was pretty impressed that you didn’t try to jump her when you stayed at her apartment."

"Unlike you?"

"In another time? You betcha’ bud. Anyway, I let her read some of your poems and stuff. She wants to get to know you, so she asked if we could come to Minnesota early."

"It was her idea?"

"Yep, said she’d never been out to the Midwest, but she really wanted to see you."

"Damn."

"Yeah, damn."

We ordered whiskey, a couple of beers, and went home stinking drunk. Thank God the house was in walking distance. When we got home the girls were talking in the upstairs bedroom, so I crashed on the couch. I don’t think Bailey made it past the living room floor.

Hangovers suck. I hadn’t had one in ages, but the last one I remember involved Bailey too. Imagine that. At least I could smell coffee. Gabi and Amanda came bouncing in the room, I think I could hear them walking a mile away.

"Good morning, boys! Have a good time last night?"

Bailey was sleeping on the floor with his head under the coffeetable. I am getting too old for this stuff. "Um, yeah, we did. I think Bailey did too."

Bailey stirred briefly. Gabi went over and slapped him on the butt. "Up and attem, loverboy!"

After we stumbled into the kitchen and had a cup of coffee, we were mostly coherent. Amanda and Gabi’s smiles were a little too big, though.

"Oh Carter! Guess what we found in your library?" Gabi had a book in her hand which looked vaguely familiar. "You’ll never guess, so I’ll tell you. It’s your high school yearbook!"

Shit. This wouldn’t have been good stone sober, let alone hungover. Of course Bailey perked up at this.

"Lemme see, Gabi." Bailey grabbed it from her.

Amanda had been quiet the whole time, yet she was smiling. I looked at her. "What?"

"I didn’t know that you were such a sporty guy. Baseball, football, track."

"Hey Carter, nice hair!" Bailey had found my senior picture, when I had long hair in the that MTV video-way."

"Can’t we forget the 80’s?"

Gabi picked up for Amanda. "Senior play, yearbook staff, Spanish club, student council, shit, Carter, what didn’t you do?"

"It was a small school, ok?"

Amanda came over behind my chair and put her hands on my shoulders. "I thought you looked cute." Then she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

It was going to be a good day.

I like driving. It can be one of the most relaxing things in the world, tooling down the road with the radio on, trees zipping by. Bailey had rented a four-door car at the airport, in this hideous shade of purple, and we packed the thing to the gills and headed south. There’s this stretch of road going from Minneapolis that runs through a little town called St. Peter that I love. I’ve been through there numerous times, but I always make time. The hills stretch up from the road, and you can see trees covering vast areas of land. I imagine the glaciers moving through the area millions of years ago, leaving this area where I can see trees for miles.

The last time that I went through here was with Catherine. Damn, why does she always have to come back to me when I’m feeling good? Here I am, with my best friend and his new wife, and my, um and Amanda, driving down to Iowa for my brother’s wedding, and I have to think of her? This sucks. And that idiot in front of me in the pickup isn’t helping matters either.

It was about midnight, and I was still driving. Carter and Gabi were asleep in the back seat, and Amanda was nestled against the door and window with her coat as a pillow. Her shoes were off, and her feet were nestled under my coat. I told her I didn’t care, and she believed me. I didn’t care. What the hell was I getting myself into? I knew there’d be a million questions at the wedding about Amanda, especially from Mom. Her voice would be loud and clear, "Carter, don’t you think you’re rushing things a little? After all you’ve been through with Catherine? Honey, I just want you to be happy. But I worry about you." I was going to need a lot of booze to get through this one. Well, maybe not, but it wasn’t going to be a lot of fun, regardless. The radio was mostly static except for a few country stations that were playing top 40 country, which was ok, but not tonight. I found a talk radio station and turned up the volume slightly. There’s something about talk radio that’s soothing. With talk radio you can always imagine that the people are there with you, that it’s not the almost ceaseless music that fills out our lives in the elevator, on the TV, on the radio, at work, wherever. Music for the most part doesn’t make you think, you can lose yourself in the beat and rhythm, and not have to think. When somebody is babbling about the price of some stock on the radio, and the imminent market correction, you aren’t thinking "why’d she leave me," all you are thinking is "this correction must be a big deal" or "I should have sold short" or "this guy doesn’t know a damn thing he’s talking about." Shit.

I pulled over for gas at a convenience store and Amanda woke up. I saw her move though the glass as I pumped gas, freezing in my sweatshirt. All I need is coffee, some gas, and we’re good to go. I need her too, but I’m not sure why. Is it because I always need somebody to look out for me, I need to have a girlfriend/lover/wife? Am I just a lonely pathetic guy? Am I afraid of popping in the TV dinner and watching Wheel of Fortune by myself for the rest of my life? Why am I so afraid? Why do I let things happen instead of making things happen? I finished filling the tank and knocked on the passenger window.

"Do you want anything?"

"I’ll have a coffee."

After getting two large coffees and paying for the gas, I entered the car with a comforting whump of the door. Close. We’re close. And I hardly know her. And I’ve put all these thoughts on her. Focused on her. Why do I always do this?

Amanda pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "Do you want me to drive for a little while?"

"Do you know where we’re going?"

"No. You have to be the navigator."

"Ok. I’ll switch." I opened the door and went around to the passenger side. Amanda scooted over to the driver’s seat and made her mirror adjustments. I was watching her look at herself in the rear-view mirror.

"What?"

Damn. She caught me. "Nothing."

Bailey shifted in his sleep. Gabi moved her head slightly on his shoulder.

"Nothing, huh? Ok, now which way?"

I was just looking at her mouth move. Then I realized that she was talking to me. "What? I’m sorry."

"Which way do I go, Magellan?"

"South."

"Carter..."

"Sorry, left."

We’d been driving for about 20 minutes or so when she looked over at me. "Why don’t you try to get some sleep? We stay on this road until the interstate, right?"

"Yeah, then just follow it into Des Moines. From there it’s a pretty straight shot. I’m not sleepy, just tired."

She looked straight ahead and didn’t look at me. "I know you’re tired, Carter. For a lot of reasons."

This was not what I had expected. I reached back into Bailey’s bag and fished out his cigarettes, rolled down my window part way and lit up.

"I thought you’d quit."

"So did I."

I turned the radio station as the signal was getting weaker. At least I found a classical station. She was looking at me.

"No response?"

"I’m not sure I want to get into this, Amanda."

"Why not? We’ve got plenty of time."

"How about we talk about something else, ok?"

"Sure. You like talk radio, here you go. Tonight’s topic: mysterious men, what makes them tick. Our first guest is Carter Woodbury. Hello, Carter."

What the hell, I thought, I’ll play along. "Hello, Amanda."

"Mr. Carter, my first question tonight is this: why won’t you let anybody really get to know you?"

"What in hell makes you think that?" I was starting to get pissed.

"Sorry, sorry, I’ll quit. It’s just that, well, anytime we’ve had a chance to really talk, you’ve always changed the topic or done something else."

I took a drag of the cigarette and threw it out the window. I left the window down, the cold wind felt good on my face.

"Carter, don’t you want to get to know me?"

"Yes."

"Then why don’t you talk to me? It was her, wasn’t it?"

"You mean Catherine?"

"Yes, I do. All women aren’t like her, Carter."

"I know." I took a drink of coffee. "It’s just that it seems like I’m always left holding the bag. And you’re so damn far away." Shit. I couldn’t believe that I said that.

Nobody said anything for a while. We just watched the trees through the bright moonlight.

Amanda’s voice surprised me. "Topic change! It’s time to play everybody’s favorite game show, What’s Your Favorite! Our contestant tonight is an English teacher from Minnesota, Carter Woodbury! Carter, your first question, for 200 points, what is your favorite movie and why?"

"Excuse me?"

"Ok, it’s a blatant move to lighten things up, I know, but isn’t that one of the things you always want to know about someone? Even better, what movie do you love watching but never want to admit watching?"

I laughed a little. I saw that smile flash over at me, and I thought maybe things could be good. "Ok, let’s see. My favorite movies that I admit to are ‘The Big Sleep’ and ‘Chinatown.’ There’s something about film noir that I love. But the movie that I don’t want to admit to watching? Easy, ‘Saturday Night Fever.’ Man, Travolta can move. It makes disco look so cool."

She was laughing now, a good sign. I liked her laugh, unpretentious and easy.

"Oh yeah, I forgot. Anything where there’s lots of ‘splosions. Us guys love guns, girls with big hooters and ‘splosions. Can never have enough ‘splosions."

We’d been driving for a while, just chatting when Bailey woke up and stuck his head between the front seats.

"Where the hell are we?"

"In Iowa, about an hour from Des Moines."

"How much farther?"

"Couple of hours, Bailey. Go back to sleep."

"Hey, hit the next rest area, will you?"

"Bailey, there are no rest areas. We’ll have to find a truck stop or something."

We drove for about 15 minutes until we saw the lights of this little place, it looked like a mom and pop convenience store, no major chain sign. We pulled in and Bailey woke Gabi. They half-staggered to the door and entered. Amanda and I just sat for a minute or two, not saying anything.

"Carter, are you afraid of me?"

"What the hell kind of question is that?"

"A truthful one. Well?"

I looked through the windshield at the trees. They were large, starting to show the beginnings of leaves. "In a way. I know I could lose myself in you. That I could give myself up in you. I’ve done that before."

"I know you have. Carter, think about it. I’m here because I want to be. There are no expectations, I’m here because I want to be."

"I know."

"No, I don’t think you do. I’m not trying to replace Catherine. I know some of what you went through from Bailey. I’m not Catherine. I want to get to know you. And I definitely don’t want you to lose yourself, in me or anything else. Relationships aren’t about getting lost. They’re about getting found."

"You’ve really thought about this."

"Yes, I have. I have a lot of things going on. I graduate later this spring. I don’t know what I’m doing yet. But at least I have a reason. I don’t think you know what you’re doing either, you’re just drifting. What are your goals, Carter? What do you want?"

You. I want to be with you. I want you. "Sometimes in the middle of the night I think I know, but when morning comes it was all just a fog that’s lifted. I want to write, I like teaching, and I like computers. I really want to play third base for the Braves, but that’s not going to happen. I just want to be comfortable."

"That’s it? You just want to be comfortable? Comfortable doesn’t mean happy."

"But can anybody really be happy?"

"Yes, they can. If they let themselves be happy."

The car door opened and Bailey and Gabi got in. Gabi stuck her hand between the seats. "Look, we got treats! Who wants some beef jerky?"

The rest of the ride went pretty smoothly. We got to my parent’s house a couple of hours later. Mom was waiting up for us, in her flannel nightgown that Dad got her for Christmas about 5 years ago, sitting on the couch reading a mystery novel. I guess I get my love of books from her, she is always reading something. Some of my earliest memories are of her reading to me. The clearest memory I have of her reading is one of the Hardy Boys books. We’re alike in that we’ll both stay up until 4 in the morning reading, even if we have to get up early. It was a typical Mom greeting, with hugs and kisses. She gave Bailey a big hug and made him introduce Gabi, who was blushing like I’ve never seen before. I didn’t think anything made her blush. Thankfully Gabi introduced Amanda, so I didn’t have to try and think of how to introduce her. "Mom, this is Amanda, she’s my, well, her and I, um, this is Amanda." That would have went well.

Mom has turned the house into a bed and breakfast, so it was no problem with accommodations. Dad was on a business trip, back in a couple of days, so we pretty much had the place to ourselves. Mom settled Gabi and Bailey into the honeymoon room, which was good, because they never really had a chance to take a honeymoon. Amanda got the "gold room," which mom had done up in all gold and white, and I got my old bedroom, which looks nothing like it used to. I was home, sort of.

I woke to the smell of bacon frying. It was a good smell, one that reminded me of when I was little, and mom would have breakfast ready when me and my brothers would wake up for school. And our lunches would be packed, and I knew what I would have in mine: peanut butter and brown sugar sandwich on wheat, cut into triangles, potato chips, a couple of Ho-ho’s, and a can of Coke. Mike and Brett would already be downstairs, scarfing like dogs, racing to see who could be to the bus first. Mom would always try to get me to get going a little faster, and Dad would fill me in on the sports news as I ate.

I heard a knock on the door and said come in, expecting Mom, but it was Amanda. Thank God I sleep in boxers and a t-shirt.

"You’re mom’s got breakfast ready. This place is great!"

"Thank Mom and Dad. They’re the one’s who redid the place. What’s for breakfast?"

"Bacon, eggs, toast, muffins, coffee, tea, you name it!"

"One of the benefits of having a mom that runs a B&B." I was sitting up in bed now, covers around my waist. Amanda was wearing a blue sweater and leggings, and some moccasin-type slippers. Her hair was in a ponytail and she was wearing glasses, small frames that looked as delicate as icicles. "I didn’t know you wear glasses."

"Learn something new everyday, don’t you? Come on, breakfast’ll get cold!"

And with that she went downstairs. I pulled on last night’s jeans, an old sweatshirt, my Braves hat and went downstairs.

Gabi and Bailey were at the kitchen table, feeding each other muffins. God, sometimes they make you want to puke. Amanda was helping Mom with cooking, she had an apron on and the whole bit. Mom saw me first.

"Well, hello mister sleepyhead. You always were the last one up, I see things never change."

"Morning, Mom. Hey guys, sleep ok?" Amanda turned and looked at me.

"I don’t think they slept too much."

Gabi turned the most deep shade of red that I had ever seen, and she threw a muffin at Amanda, hitting her in the butt.

I laughed. "Hey, no throwing my breakfast!"

Amanda picked up the muffin and tossed it in the trash. "Hmm, perfectly good waste of a muffin."

I sat down across from Bailey and poured myself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table. Amanda brought me over a plate. "Your mom said you like basically raw bacon, scrambled eggs with Tabasco, and blueberry muffins swimming in butter."

It looked great. "Yeah, she’s right. Could I have some cream, please, Miss?"

Amanda smacked me on the back of the head. "Don’t you ‘Miss’ me, mister."

Mom laughed and sat down across from Gabi. "So what do you kids have planned today?"

Kids. I guess I still was, at least here. Gabi took a sip of coffee, then started talking to Mom. They discussed what things there were to do around here, most everything involved going back into Des Moines, except for the outdoorsy-type stuff. Amanda was still working at the stove and the oven. I didn’t know she could cook. I am learning more things about her everyday. I sat and ate some eggs, watching her move, her easy grace in the kitchen. I didn’t expect this.

Mom caught me watching Amanda. "So, Carter, what are you doing today?"

"Um, don’t really know, Mom. When does everybody else get in?"

"Your father gets back from Virginia tomorrow afternoon. If you don’t mind, I need you to pick him up at the airport. Brett is coming in tonight, and Michael will be in later this afternoon. Anna is staying at her place until the wedding."

"Is Anna the bride?" It was Bailey.

"Yes, she lives in Des Moines. Carter, do you know that your brother is moving to Seattle?"

"Seattle?" No I hadn’t heard that. Then again, Brett never was one for filling me in on the details, just usually the highlights.

"Yes, his company transferred him. Anna and he will only be married for about a month until they move. They’re going to live in Des Moines until then. Brett said he can do his work online, so it shouldn’t matter. His company is actually giving him the time off, but you know your brother."

Yeah, I know Brett. The one that always did all of his homework, and then some. The one who did all of his summer reading in a month, and then extra all while playing baseball and dating. Mister all-everything. The account executive with this insurance company. Then Michael. Mike was the athlete of the family, better than Brett or I even thought about being. He went to college on a baseball scholarship, played some minor league baseball but never got past AA. He’s working with the Chicago Cubs AAA team in Des Moines as some sort of scout/assistant. And then me, the teacher, sort of writer, sort of computer geek.

"Amanda, honey, you can stop now. I can take care of everything." It was Mom. She got up and put her hand on Amanda’s shoulder and helped her out of the apron. At least Mom likes Amanda, I thought. Oh shit, how long have those two been awake and talking?

I stood up. "I’m going to go take a shower. You guys can figure out what we’re doing today."

The hot shower felt good. Mom had redone my room so that I had a private shower, complete with CD player. I popped in a new age CD that was on the table and stood under the stream of hot water for quite some time, just letting the water cascade down over my head. This was something new. Mom had never had a chance to meet Catherine, but she was getting along great with Amanda. Don’t think too far ahead, Carter. You don’t know what’s going to happen.

Mike met us at the stadium’s main entrance. I’ve always loved baseball, but he’s the lucky little bastard that gets to work at the stadium. While I was in the shower, Mike called and wanted us to meet him at the stadium to have lunch and goof off. Gabi and Bailey decided to hit the bike trail close to the house on the bikes mom has for her guests. Why the hell not, this was probably their honeymoon. It struck me as funny, the Hollywood writer and TV star having their honeymoon in Iowa, of all places. Mom begged off, saying that she had way too much to do to get ready for everybody. So it was just Amanda and I. Hopefully Mike would be tactful, but then again, he always is.

"Hey, bro! You’re looking good! Bad hat, though." Mike gave me a hug. He always gave me crap about my Braves hat.

"Mike, this is Amanda. Amanda, this is Mike."

"Nice to meet you, Amanda. You must be Carter’s..."

"Friend. She’s my friend, Mike." Amanda just smiled.

"Nice to meet you, Mike. Is this where you work?"

"Yeah, it’s pretty nice. One of the best AAA stadiums in baseball. Come on in, I’ll give you the tour."

I let Mike take Amanda by the arm and walk her around the stadium, showing us the skyboxes and the seats. I had a twinge of jealousy, but let it pass. It was good to be back at the stadium. I remember watching with Dad and my brothers as Mom taught me how to do a box score, the time when Brett caught a foul ball. It was a good place.

Mike turned back to me. "Want to take a little BP?"

"Are you kidding? Batting practice?"

"Sure. I’ve already set it up. Pitching machine’s in place. You don’t think I’m going to pitch to you, do you? You never could hit my curve."

I looked at Amanda. "He’s lying of course. Grandma could hit his curve."

"Yeah, right. That’s bull." He looked at Amanda, pulled her close and whispered something in her ear."

"What? What’d you tell Amanda?"

"Never you mind, mister."

Amanda came over to me. "He said that you were right, that Grandma couldn’t hit his change-up."

I laughed quietly. "Old pitchers never die, honey, their stuff just gets better with each story."

Amanda’s eyes lit up and she squeezed my arm and took my hand in hers. I had called her honey! Oh man. I started breathing heavier as Mike led us down to the field.

"Hey doofus! You still trying to be a lefty?" Mike was at the mound.

"Yeah, weenie-arm!"

"Well go grab a bat from the front of the dugout. Don’t pull any from the racks or I’ll get killed. Amanda, you’d better come out here with me behind the screen. I’ve seen him hit."

Amanda jogged out to stand by Mike as I dug into the batter’s box. I’d imagined this for years, but the stands were full and I was wearing number 5, George Brett’s number. It’d be some huge right-hander on the mound and the bases would be loaded. I wasn’t ready for the first ball, and I bailed out of the box.

"Same as always, huh?"

"Yeah, except I know the machine won’t try and hit me like someone else I know."

"Har-de-har-har. I’m putting it on medium."

For the next 20 minutes or so I swung away, connecting with a few. It felt good. It also felt weird, because Amanda was watching me. It was like in high school, trying to show off for your girlfriend. At least I didn’t embarrass myself.

"We’re out of balls, want to go again?"

"No thanks, Mike. I need about a gallon of Ben-Gay now, thank you very much."

We picked up the balls and put them back in the bucket on the mound, then headed to the Stadium Club for lunch. Amanda and Mike were arm in arm as we walked up through the dugout. They were chatting away, me in tow. Finally we got to the club and sat down.

"Amanda’s been filling me in on what you’ve been doing lately. Is it true we have a TV star out at the house?"

"Yeah, it’s true. Bailey’s there too."

"Remember the last time we all went out?"

"Mike..."

The waitress brought us water. Mike looked at her and motioned her over, whispered something in her ear. She nodded and left.

"What are you up to, Mike?"

Amanda turned and looked at Mike. "So what happened the last time that you and Carter and Bailey went out?"

Mike laughed and looked at me. "Should I?"

I shook my head. "Why the hell not? You’ve already got her going."

"Ok, it’s like this. Carter and Bailey came down over Thanksgiving break a few years back. Bailey had never been pheasant hunting, something that he felt he could not be a true Midwesterner until he’d done. So we loaned him one of Dad’s shotguns, got him a license, dressed him up in some of Brett’s hunting gear and took him out. It was hilarious. I don’t think he’d ever held a shotgun, let alone shot one." He took a drink of water. "So anyway, we’re out in the switchgrass over by the Johnson’s old place, fairly close to the barn walking our way down the fencerow when a rooster gets up. Bailey was the closest to him, so he swings up the gun, and blasts away." Mike is laughing hard now, wiping his eyes with his fingers. "I can’t finish, Carter."

I laughed and looked at Amanda. "He shot a window out of Johnson’s barn. I don’t know how he did it, but there was this crash and glass was going everywhere. Luckily the Johnson’s weren’t home, so he didn’t have to deal with Bert. Bailey had his eyes closed, and the first words out of his mouth were ‘Did I get him?’ It was hilarious. We couldn’t stop laughing. Bailey got pissed and went and sat in the truck. He was cooled down when we got back. We went to another field, and Mike and I each got a couple of birds, but Bailey didn’t take the shotgun with him again."

Amanda was laughing. "I can just imagine Joshua. That must have been hilarious."

"Oh, it was. But after that was even better." Mike continued. "After we got our birds we went into a small town nearby and had lunch in the bar. Our neighbor was in having lunch and asked us if we had any luck. Bailey turned about 30 shades of red and didn’t say anything, just walked up to the bar and ordered some beers. He didn’t say a damn thing the whole way home."

The waitress came back and took our orders. Lunch was a fun affair, laughing about stuff that happened when we were in school, Mike talking about all of my high school girlfriends with Amanda, and Brett’s wedding plans. The wedding was taking place at Hoyt Sherman house. We explained to Amanda that Hoyt Sherman was the brother of General William Tecumseh Sherman, and he had started this big insurance company here in Iowa. It was a huge house with it’s own theater, art all over the place. Should be pretty "swell."

Mike fiddled with his napkin. "It’s going to be a big deal. Oh yeah, Carter, Mom reminded me that we have to go get fitted for our tuxes. We’ve got an appointment in about an hour or so. After that I’ve got to get to work, so you guys are on your own."

The waitress came back and handed Mike a note. Mike got up, "Excuse me guys, but I’m not going to be able to go with you. Duty calls. Tell the tux place that I’ll reschedule. Here’s the address."

He handed me a business card of a place on the west side of town. Easy enough to find.

"Ok, well, Amanda, great to meet you. Save me a dance at the reception, ok? Carter, you guys are staying at the house for the duration, right? Ok, well, I’ll see you later."

With that Mike left. Same Mike as always.

"I like your brother, Carter. He’s really nice."

"Yeah, he’s pretty good as little brothers go. What did you guys talk about when I was hitting?"

"Trying to hit, according to Mike. None of your beeswax what we talked about."

"Come on, you can tell me."

"If you promise not to tell your brother. Ok, he asked how long we’ve been seeing each other."

"What’d you say?"

"I said off and on since February."

"So we’re seeing each other?"

Amanda looked at me straight, taking off her glasses. "You haven’t been seeing anyone else, have you?"

"No, I haven’t. Have you?"

"No."

Nobody said anything for a while. I dunked a last french fry in the ketchup and ate it. She was still looking at me. "So what does this mean?"

"It means I want to spend time with you, Carter. I don’t know where anything is leading, I just want to be with you. Sometimes I don’t know why, I know we’re so far away and everything, but it just feels right."

"Gut feeling?"

"Yeah."

"I’ve been burnt on gut feelings before."

"I know. That’s why sometimes I feel like I’m walking on eggshells around you. I’m afraid of saying the wrong thing, of even bringing up Catherine. I didn’t even know how you would react at your brother’s wedding. I just wish you would talk to me. Really talk to me."

Wow. This is what I’d been wishing for. What I’d tossed around in my head ever since February, even more since the few phone calls we’d had. She was so easy to talk to, yet I never did, really talk. And she has that easy grace, the way she moves, her eyes. Am I in love? Was I ever really in love with Catherine, or was that some strange voodoo thing like Bailey thinks? Do I know what I’m doing? Or have I ever?

"Carter, I’m not asking for any decisions. I just want to be with you. For as long as I can."

"Amanda, you don’t really know me very well."

"I know enough to keep me interested. And I’m finding out more each day." She put her glasses back on. "I had a good talk with your mother this morning."

Oh shit. Now what? "And what did good old Mom say?"

"That you have this tendency to retreat into yourself. That there’s a beautiful person in there, if you peel back all of the layers."

I flagged the waitress for the check. "Well, ok, I guess. Let’s just take things easy, ok? I don’t want to spoil anything."

"Carter, I am here to spend time with you and be your date to your brother’s wedding. That’s it. I have no major expectations. I just enjoy being with you, that’s why I’m here." Pause. "Ok?"

"Ok." The waitress came back. "Could we have the check, please?"

"Don’t worry, sir. Mr. Woodbury has taken care of everything. Can I get you any dessert, today?"

"No thanks. Thank you." After she walked away I looked at Amanda. "I guess we’d better go to the tux place." She nodded. "And I can show you around, too, if that’s ok."

She flashed a warm smile, like when you get ice cream on your apple pie without asking. "Carter, I would like nothing better."

Gabi and Bailey were lounging on the couch watching TV when we got back. Bailey rose up to talk.

"So what’d you guys do today?"

I didn’t even have a chance to talk before Amanda began. "Well, let’s see. We went to the baseball stadium to meet Carter’s brother Mike, and Carter hit batting practice out on the field. Mike gave us a tour of the stadium, and we had lunch with him. After that, Carter got fitted for his tux, and we drove around town. We had coffee at a place that used to be an old Victorian style house, and then we went shopping. I have to have a dress, you know."

The airline still hadn’t found her luggage. The last time the contacted her, they thought it might be en route to Omaha. Shopping with Amanda had been fun. This time we went to her department in one of the best stores in Des Moines, I forced her to tell me her size, and I made her sit at the makeup counter while I picked out dresses for her to try on. It was a fashion show, of sorts. My favorite, and the one I bought for her, was this slinky black velvet dress with thin straps and a low cut back. I didn’t think she would even try it on, but when she came out it took my breath away. She was absolutely gorgeous. It was expensive, but I didn’t care. I also bought her some heels to go with the dress. Wow. She was going to look wonderful.

Gabi and Amanda went upstairs to check out her dress, and I sat down on the couch next to Bailey.

"So Bailey, what’d you guys do today?"

"We took a long bike ride. This place is beautiful! Gabi loved it, we stopped in a little convenience store for some water, and at first nobody recognized her. Then we stopped at one of the resting places on the trail, and some teenage girls noticed her. She chatted with them for a while, gave them autographs, and they were on their way. Then we came back to the house, and your mom had this big Italian lunch ready for us. Man, your mom can cook! After that, we had a long soak in the hot tub out back."

"We have a hot tub here?"

"Yeah, back close to the honeymoon room. There’s this little passageway from a hidden door in the room. I couldn’t believe it, a hidden door. This place is just too cool. You grew up here?"

"Yeah, but it was just this huge old farmhouse then, none of this stuff was here. Mom and Dad have really reworked this place." Bailey was beaming. "You really love her, don’t you?"

"More than you can ever know."

"Good."

"What about you?"

"I love Gabi, too."

"Dickhead, I mean Amanda, what’s going on there?"
"I’m not sure. We had an interesting talk at lunch. We’re just going to take it easy, not put any expectations on things."

"You’ve got it bad, buddy."

"What?"

"It’s obvious. Your mom picked up on that. Hell, Ray Charles could pick up on that."

"Why not Helen Keller?"

"Because she’s dead. Listen, idiot, she’s got it bad for you. But she’s scared. She knows some of the crap you went through with Catherine, and she doesn’t want to scare you off."

"But she’s so young. How can she know what she wants?"

"Carter, how can any of us know what we want? Sometimes its right in front of our faces, and we never know it. Other times it hits us upside the head. Just don’t screw it up, okay buddy? She’s my friend, too."

I grabbed the remote and turned it to ESPN. "So what’d my mom say?"

"That she’s never seen you like this. She knows that you really like Amanda, that from what she’s seen she likes Amanda, but she knows how you retreat when things get too difficult to handle sometimes. She also said that you have to work it out, that she can’t help you, that nobody can help you, that you always have to do things yourself."

She was right. I remember trying to put together a plastic airplane model that I got as a birthday present one year, and not doing it right. Dad tried to help, but I wouldn’t let him, and ended up ruining it. "Where is Mom?"

"She went to pick up your brother Brett at the airport. Said that she’d be late, to fix supper ourselves. Oh, and that she wants you to take a look at her website when you get a chance."

The next few hours I sat down at Mom’s PC, re-working her website. Functional, but a little too plain. The content really didn’t describe what the place looked like. I had to take a tour around my parent’s house to figure out what was really in the place. Amanda brought me some iced tea while I worked, sat with me for a little while and asked some questions about the website. When she got up to leave, she gave me a kiss on the cheek. I didn’t do anything for about 15 minutes after that, just looked at the screen.

I had forgotten about cooking dinner when I smelled something coming from the kitchen. I saved the website stuff and headed downstairs. Bailey and Gabi were making dinner, Cornish game hens from what the wrappers in the trash said. Amanda was upstairs taking a nap, according to Gabi. Things looked well in hand in the kitchen, so I decided to go see Amanda.

I knocked lightly on the door as I opened it. "Amanda? You awake?" She had fallen asleep with her glasses on, reading a copy of ‘The Great Gatsby.’ I went and sat on the bed, gently taking off her glasses. She stirred slightly, then fell back to sleep. I ran my fingers though her hair. So different than Catherine. Younger. There wasn’t that pain in the back of her eyes like Catherine’s. I remembered looking at Catherine and feeling like I was looking at a dog that someone had kicked too many times. Maybe that’s why I was with her as long as I was. I didn’t want to be one more person to kick her. Amanda wasn’t like that. She was energetic, a voodoo woman herself but in a different way, the kind that you could take to a party, spend the whole night talking to other people, glance at her across the room, and know that she would return to you, with that warm smile and those dark eyes. A strange sort of connection, in a good way. With Catherine I’d been sitting in the passenger seat, along for the ride. With Amanda, it was more of a team effort, one of us driving and the other with the map. I leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. She stirred, looked at me. I felt her hand move to my arm, and I kissed her again, not as softly.

Mom and Brett hit the door around 8 o’clock. Brett looked just like he always has, trim, fit and slightly tan. His hair cut short, tortoiseshell glasses, hell, he looks like a poster boy for corporate America. And he is. Only problem is, he has a tendency to be a little obnoxious, something I’m sure his boss would love if he only knew. He was smiling from ear to ear, something I’m assuming most grooms look like. I must have been an exception. Anyway, he and mom hit the house with tons of bags, which Bailey and I helped carry to the back bedroom, or as I described it on the website, the burgundy room. It was Mike’s old room.

Everybody settled into what used to be the living room, now the common room and mom opened a couple of bottles of wine. I made the introductions, introducing Amanda as simply "Amanda." Brett knew better than to push things. He filled us in on how he and Anna had hooked back up, how it was a whirlwind courtship and engagement. I had to admit, it did take your breath away, sort of. This was something I would have never expected out of my methodical older brother. Then again, love does something to you, I guess.

I thought back to earlier this afternoon, when Amanda and I kissed for what seemed hours. God, that was great. Then we got up when Bailey started yelling about supper. The Cornish game hens were good, as were the mashed potatoes and hot rolls. Bailey can cook fairly well, and Gabi is no slouch either. After cleaning up, we all just sat around and played Scrabble. I won, which was rather a shock, since I always end up with the Q, Z and four Es.

Brett continued holding court when Mike walked in, carrying a case of beer. At least it was good beer, not the kind of crap we used to drink when we were young and poor. We all ended up drinking in the common room, and since it wasn’t real warm outside, Mike made a fire in the fireplace. I was sitting in Dad’s big chair, next to the fire when Amanda came over and sat between my legs on the floor, arm wrapped around my leg. Unconsciously I played with her hair for a while until I realized that Brett was watching, so I quit, got up and got another beer. While I was in the kitchen Amanda came in, put the empties in the sink and wrapped her arms around me.

"Whatcha’ doin’?"

"Getting some more beer. Want one?"

"Sure. Can we try the hot tub later?"

"That’s through Gabi and Bailey’s room."

"Gabi said it’d be fine."

"Ok. When?"

"How ‘bout now?"

"Amanda, Brett just got in a few hours ago."

"Exactly. You have at least 3 days to catch up with him. C’mon."

"Ok. How are we going to break away?"

"Simple, Carter, we tell them we’re going to the hot tub."

And with that, Amanda took the beer from my hand and left the room.

I just stood at the kitchen sink, wondering what Amanda would look like in the hot tub, when the phone rang. Mom called and said it was for me, a Colin. I knew this had to be extremely good, or extremely bad. I figured it was the latter.

"Hey Colin, what's going on?"

"I’m sorry to interrupt your vacation there, Carter, but I just got the most distressing phone call from Catherine. She’s in Vegas, and her sister is in re-hab or something like that, and she wanted to get a hold of you. What should I do?"

I walked over to the fridge, the cord on the wall-mount phone stretching to its limit. Nothing looked good to eat. I wasn't really hungry anyway.

"Are you there, Carter?"

Maybe some cold pizza. There’s nothing quite like cold pizza. Especially pan pizza, even after the warmth has left the food, the buttery flavor and crispness still remain. "Yeah. I'm here."

"I'm sorry, old boy. I know things..."

"Yeah. Thanks. How's Circe?"

"She's fine." His tone changed to that of a father during one of those made for TV movies. "Carter, are you OK?"

"I don't know, Colin." Pause. Mom still has the fridge covered with magnets. A magnet from the State Fair, pharmacy, little picture frames. I wonder if she’d like the magnet of Michaelangelo’s David that you can dress up. "I'll call you later, ok?"

"Sure, sure, you know I'll be here. Research, you know."

I hung up the phone with Colin and went back into the common room and sat down. Everybody was looking at me.

Brett broke the silence, "What's amatter, somebody die?"

I looked at him for a while. "No. Catherine called a friend of mine. She’s trying to get a hold of me. Her sister in Vegas is in re-hab or something, I’m not sure. I do know that I’m going outside for a while." I grabbed my jacket, slammed my Braves hat on, walked through the kitchen and sat out on the patio in the wrought-iron chairs. The outside light automatically came on, annoying me. I just wanted to sit out in the darkness, looking at the stars.

I heard the door shut softly behind me. I knew that someone would come out here, but I didn't know who. A baseball glove fell in my lap, and I looked up. It was Mike.

"C'mon, how about a game of catch?" Mike was feigning lightheartedness, I could tell by the strained expression on his face.

"Mike..."

"Shut up and play, weenie-arm."

I put on the glove. It was my old glove from my high-school baseball days. The last time I saw it, it needed restrung something fierce. "What happened to my glove?"

Mike hadn't stopped walking the other direction, and answered me half over his shoulder. "I was gonna surprise you. Mom found it when her and Dad were redoing the house, and I took it to our equipment guy. Charged me a case of good beer, too." Mike stopped and turned around, looking from side to side. "Motion lights should stay on if we stay here."

I looked at the motion lights, then my old glove. Even with new stringing, it still felt like an old shoe, comfortable.

"Hey, heads up."

Mike threw the baseball in a lazy motion, almost head high. I threw him back an easy one, knowing my arm would take a while to warm up. We concentrated on throwing for a while. I tried to break off a curve that ended up one-hopping to Mike.

"You know what, Carter? You never could throw a curve."

"That's why I played outfield."

Mike threw a hummer that I almost didn't catch. "So how 'ya doin', Carter?"

I put some heat, or as much heat as I could muster, on the throw back. "I don't know, Mike. It's weird. It seems every time I'm ready to make a break with Catherine, one way or another she always manages to get to me. You know she came back after the wedding."

"You mean almost-wedding, right?"

"Yeah."

Mike nodded. "Here, watch this." The ball came in at 12 o'clock and dropped to 6 o'clock. "Learned that the other day fooling around with the pitchers." Mike pulled the thumb-strings tighter with his teeth. "Yeah, Mom told us. We didn't know what to think, and we still don't. What's with this Amanda chick?"

I popped one in high and hard.

"Damn, Carter. It's hard to see out here."

"Sorry. Don't call her a chick."

"Sorry. Don't know what to think, Carter. First you almost got married, you got this house, she came back, then she left, and now you show up with your friends and this new girl. It gets me to think that you're over Catherine, but nobody really wants to ask, you know?"

"Yeah. Well, I think so."

Mike threw in a lazy one, an easy catch.

"I mean, you're marrying this woman nobody has met, then you bring this girl to Mom and Dad's. What are we supposed to think? Mom doesn't really want to pry, but you know she's dying to find out. Hell, she's probably grilling them in there now."

"Grounder." I threw about a three-hopper. Mike fielded cleanly, and I took the first baseman's stretch position. It came in fast and straight. "I probably don't want to know what they're talking about. I don't know Mike, I really like Amanda, I like her a lot. I just don't want to invest so much of myself and get burnt again, ya know?"

"Gotcha. Taking it slow?"

"Very. She lives in California, I met her out there when I went to a conference and stayed with Bailey."

Mike laughed a nervous laugh. "That's when you were on TV, right?"

I threw another easy one back. "I was on TV out here?"

"Yeah, one of the syndicated shows that comes on after the news, right after supper. One of Mom's friends videotaped videotapes all of those shows, don’t ask me why. Anyway, she copied the tape it and gave it to her. Good 'no comment,' brother."

"Thanks."

"How'd you meet her?"

"Blind date. Bailey set me up with her the night we got there. Ended up sleeping on her couch the night Bailey and Gabi got married in Vegas."

Mike shook his hand that was holding the ball and made "woo-woo" sounds. The ball came in at a hard pop.

"Get a grip, Mike. Nothing happened. We just had coffee and watched some movies."

"Lemme guess, something with a lot of nudity?"

I threw as hard as I could. "Fuck you."

Mike fielded cleanly and laughed. "You probably want to, you perv."

"Doubt it. You’re probably a talker and would cry afterwards."

We threw back and forth for a while without saying anything, falling into the rhythm of catch, grounders, throwing heat, junk balls. I threw a decent knuckleball, and Mike returned it with an even better one.

"Carter..." Mike's voice had a different timbreer, "I really don't know what to say about Catherine. I'm sure she means something to you, but nobody knows exactly what."

I put the ball inside my glove and took it off. My shoulder was hurting a little. "Mike, I'm not sure either. That's what really sucks about this. I'm not sure how I feel about Catherine anymore, especially now. And I know how I feel about Amanda, but..."

"But you're afraid that the same thing could happen again." Mike had walked closer, glove under his arm.

"Yeah. I guess so. Not that the exact same things would happen..."

"But the general idea, and the same outcome. You'd be alone again..."

I flipped him the ball. He caught it easily. "I don't mind the being alone. Its the giving of yourself, and then being left alone. Like taking a day off to give someone a birthday party, then finding out that they had to go on a trip."

We stood there a while, then the motion light went out.

"Well Carter, I guess that's our sign to get inside. Do you want to talk to anybody, or do you just want to be alone?"

"Tell them I'll see them at breakfast."

"Gotcha. You still have a weenie-arm, computer-geek."

"You'd better shut up, I know your social security number."

It’s funny how we all live with ghosts. Dead relatives, loved ones, times that should have stood still forever. The time when I was alone in a studio apartment, Philip Glass on the CD player, and the sun was streaming through the windows, thrown open, on an early spring day. It was a different spring now, with a wedding, and Amanda. I said a little prayer to Aphrodite, just to cover my bases if the Greeks were right, and went to sleep in my clothes.

I don’t think I had been asleep very long when I felt a hand drift across my forehead. I kept my eyes closed, felt the soft feminine fingers slowly drift across my temples. In my mind’s eye, I saw Amanda. I opened my eyes, and she was sitting on the bed, leaning over with her hair falling down to one side.

"Amanda…"

"Shush. You don’t have to say anything. Just relax. You were tossing and turning when I came in. Bad dreams."

"No, no bad dreams. No dreams at all, just a black unconsciousness." I sat up slowly. "I haven’t slept in my clothes in a long time."

"Do you want me to leave, Carter?"

"Please stay." I looked down. "For a while."

"I know a lot about what happened with you and Catherine from Joshua. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to."

"It’s ok, Amanda. I don’t mind. With you, anyway."

"Carter, knowing what I do, it’s hard to say things sometimes. I don’t really know where we stand. It’s…"

"Amanda, I just get scared around you sometimes. I don’t want to rush anything, but you make me feel better than I have in years. It’s like when you find something that’s been lost for a while, and when you look for it, you don’t find it. Then out of the blue, you run across it while moving furniture or something. Not that you’re a lost remote control or anything, that’s not it, well, you know what I mean. Shit, I don’t know how to say it."

"Then don’t worry about it, Carter. Just let me be here with you right now."

Amanda sat down next to me and put her head on my chest. I laid back down, and felt her warmth through the t-shirt. As I slipped my arm around her back, I could feel her heart beating. A sSoft, regular rhythm, not too fast, comforting, reassuring.

The wedding was nice. Really, it was. Nothing too great or too lousy, just nice. I enjoyed looking at the art in the main room. Behind Brett and Ann was this picture of what looked like a nymph, holding musical instruments. It was long and thin, and the colors were muted, slivery-blue shades. The focus was sort of fuzzy, like when you’re wearing someone else’s glasses. Somewhat of an art-deco style. Beautiful picture. And in front of this Brett and Ann took their vows, and there was a small string quartet off in a small room where we couldn’t see them, only hear them. I stood next to Brett’s best man, I think his name was Henry or something, and tried not to look too nervous. Amanda sat next to Gabi and Bailey. I noticed, when I glanced over occasionally, that she was smiling at me. Really smiling. The kind of smile that you can read everything in, ones that light up rooms.

Everybody had to go take pictures out on the big porch-veranda thingy, so that took a while. We were standing waiting for the photographer switch cameras or something when I saw Amanda come over. She looked great, wearing that dress and with her hair all done up. I was very impressed.

"You look like you could use one of these, Carter." She handed me a glass of white winechampagne.

I took a big sip. "You are oh so right." We just smiled at each other for a while. "Thanks."

Mike came up from behind and put his arm around my neck in a chokehold. "Hey, Miss Amanda, remember that you are to save a dance for me, right?"

I elbowed him in the ribs and he backed off. I didn’t’ do it very hard, but hard enough.

Amanda laughed and took a drink of her wine. "Don’t worry Mr. Michael, I have a dance on my card for you."

Amanda walked away and we took pictures for what seemed like forever. Brett and Ann looked happy. I hoped they would always stay that way, but we all know that kind of euphoric feeling is fleeting. And that’s what we are always after. I think that’s what the guys who get married about 6 or 7 times keep trying to recapture, that feeling. It’s sad, because you know in about a year they’ll be out looking for someone else to get that feeling with.

After pictures were done there was a little break before the dinner, so I went wandering around the house. I wasn’t sure where Amanda was. I about fell down a couple of stairs when my cell phone rang. I’m not sure why I had it with me, force of habit, I guess.

"Hello this is Carter."

"Hi Carter."

Holy shit. Catherine."

"Hi Catherine."

"Did I call you at a bad time?"

I leaned against a railing, halfway up the stairs. "Yeah, sort of. I’m at Brett’s wedding."

"Brett’s your older brother, right?"

I moved out of the way of an elderly couple looking at the art. "Yeah. Yeah, Mike’s the baby."

There was a really long pause. I looked at this immense portrait of a young girl, in a pastoral setting. I guess she was about 7 or 8 when the picture was made. I focused on her face, that youthful picture of hope. I stared at it hard enough that I was looking for the brushstrokes.

"How are you, Carter?"

I exhaled deeply. "Ok, I guess. How are you doing?"

"Ok, I guess. Janet’s in re-hab now. She’s an alcoholic. I’ve got the kids right now. Bobby’s six, Mary is five, and Julia is two. They’re good kids, they’ve just had a hell of a life."

I started walking up the stairs and through the room where we changed into our tuxes into the theater. It was dark except for the Exit sign lights. I was about halfway up in the seats. I sat down in the middle of a row and looked on the empty stage. There was a light somewhere in the back of the curtains that gave the stage an eerie halflight. I could hear people taking impromptu tours down a section below.

"Carter, are you there?"

"Yes, Catherine, I’m here." Nobody said anything for a while. I watched another group of about six people move the heavy blood-red drapes aside and come into the theater. "Catherine, why did you call me?"

"I’m not sure Carter. I just feel like so much was left undone."

"No shit."

"You have every right to be angry. I’m sorry, Carter, but I just wanted to talk to you."

"That’s a first. Usually you just leave a fucking note." I couldn’t believe what I was actually saying. It was almost like watching yourself on a videotape, you can see yourself say the actual words, but you’re not saying them at the current time.

"Carter, I deserve that. I…I just wondered if after all that we’ve been through, if…"

"No way, Catherine. I’m sorry. I’m not going to live my life according to your whims. I don’t want to live knowing that one day I could walk in the door and you’d be gone. I can’t do that. Not again. I love you, no, I take that back. I loved you once, but that time is gone. If you want Circe she’s at my place in Minnesota."

I could hear her breathing on the phone. Was she crying? Damn it, so fucking what if she was. Goddammit, I’m in the right here. Then why do I feel like shit?"

"I know she is, Colin told me. I’m sorry to have bothered you. Have a good life, Carter, you deserve it. I love you."

Shit. Now she was getting to me. "Catherine, if anybody deserves to have a good life it’s you. Help Janet. Go see Karen. Go find Margie. You can do it. But you can’t do it with me anymore. I loved you once, and in some ways I still do, always will, but not that way anymore." I stood up. "I have to go."

"I’m sorry to bother you at your brother’s wedding." There was a long pause. "Goodbye, Carter."

I noticed that everybody else had left the theater. I was alone. "Goodbye, Catherine."

I sat there back down for a while, holding my cell phone. I turned it over and over in my hands, tracing the smooth lines with my fingers, feeling the indentations of the logo in the plastic. I don’t know how long I sat there, but I took out the batteriesy and threw it down towards the stage. It made quite a nice clatter as it hit, and I think it broke into several pieces. I’m not sure.

When I got back to the ballroom everybody was finding their places at the dinner tables. Thankfully Brett, or Mom, or whoever had the good idea of sitting the bride and groom at the top, center table, and everybody else had separate tables. What I mean is that we didn’t have the whole freaking wedding party at one huge, long table and everybody else at their own tables. Anyway, I worked my way through the crowd to my table. Amanda was there, sipping wine and talking to Gabi. Bailey was deep in a conversation with Earl, one of Dad’s friends who farms not too far from Mom and Dad’s house. I caught something about crop prices and laughed. Josh was out of his league.

After I sat down Amanda put her arm around me. "Where’d you sneak off to?"

I took a long drink of water. "I had a phone call."

"Everything ok?"

I looked at Amanda, her pretty face, and those deep brown eyes, hiding nothing. "Yes, everything is ok. It really is"

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