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Part 1

Posted on Sunday, 17 September 2000

Dozens of cans toppled to the floor.

"It's your fault."

"Hey, you were the one who was being so uncooperative."

"Me? Excuse me, Mr. Let - Me - Do - It - You - Can't."

"Exactly, you should have just let me do this."

"Just you? Are you crazy? We don't have that kind of time to waste."

"This is wasting time. If I had done it myself, we would be done by now, Elizabeth."

"You'd still be at the top of the aisle, Willis."

"I hate doing cardboard. Especially when I have to do it with you."

"Jerk."

"Shrew."

"Moron."

As my brother and my friend bickered, Colin and I discreetly picked up the cans of soup and stacked them back on the shelf.

"Come on, let's pick it up," said my brother. He turned and nearly stepped on me. "Hey! You did you two get here?"

"Walked," I replied saucily.

"Be respectful to your elders, Lindsey Georgiana," my brother said with irritated sarcasm. An odd thing about my mother's family -- for who knows how long, the first born girl has always been given a first name beginning with L followed by the middle name Georgiana. Don't ask me why. Thus, my mother was Laura Georgiana; my grandmother was Lillian Georgiana. Shortly before I was born, my brother, who was about three and a half, suggested Louisiana Georgiana as my name. My parents loved this story; Will does not. It was impossible not to think of this and impossible not to smirk. Will glared at me and at Colin, who knew the story and was smirking also.

"I thought you were reshopping in bulk foods?" asked Lizzy.

"We heard," said Colin shortly.

"That is, first we heard the cans, then we heard you two --"

"And we rushed back before you tore each other apart," finished Colin.

"And you can blame this id --"

"She was the one --"

A firm hand descended upon a shoulder of each, silencing them. "Liz, Will. Children." I suppressed a smile at Colin's mockingly stern tone. "I know that it's past midnight. I know it's Friday night -- or morning if that's the way you want to look at it. I know that could potentially mean that we are all losers with no life. We've all been here a long time, we're all tired, and no one is in a particularly cheery mood. I understand that." Colin stopped and corrected himself. "Well, except for Bing of course, but he doesn't count because he's always so infernally happy. Okay, and Jen too, I think it's impossible for her to ever be not nice. But I believe I digress, and now I'm not entirely sure I can remember the point I was going to make -- perhaps it may have been something along the lines of Shut Up, Grow Up, Cooperate, Be Nice, Don't Destroy the Merchandise, and may I say again, Shut up!" Colin turned to me with a smile. "Do you concur, Lindsey, or is there something I ought to add?"

"Oh, I think that would be it, Colin." I returned the smile and followed him back to the bulk foods.

"Think I should pursue a career as a kindergarten teacher, Lindsey?" he asked me.

I pretended to consider. "Well, you could, but I think you would be better off sticking with economics."

Colin sighed heavily. "Yes, I suppose you're right, economics is better for me. I'd probably be bored out of my mind as a kindergarten teacher. I do like working at Wegmans, Lindsey -- but not forever!"

"You won't be here forever," I said reassuringly. "Just a few more years. You'll finish your grad school classes, you'll find a job..."

"Eventually. I don't know, maybe I should get an MBA instead. But that's not what I want to do; I want economics. Well, I've worked here for nearly ten years. I suppose can take a few more." Colin took a bag of dried cranberries out of the cart of reshops. "You know, these are really good, if you're in the right mood. But the lady who was going to get them really wanted raisins and got these by mistake." He tossed the bag over his shoulder. "Hey Linz, catch -- uh-oh."

"What?" I asked turning around. I looked up. The bag had landed neatly in a car of the miniature train that ran along a track above the bulk foods section. "Oooh, that's bad."

"A stepstool's never going to reach that," said Colin, hoisting himself onto a large wooden bin filled with Halloween candy.

"Colin - Richard - Wesley!" I gasped. "Are you crazy?"

He teetered precariously on the edge of the bin, waiting for the train to come around. "Shh... almost got it -- just a little farther -- there!" Colin made a grab for the cranberries, tottered, fall off the edge and stumbled into a display of candy.

I gave him a look. "Had to get it down somehow," he muttered.

"Mmm-hmm," I replied, starting to pick up the candy.

At that point, Billy Burg trotted over. "I flatter myself that you will not mind -- though I am but quite new when compared to the two of you (quite the veterans, you are ) -- my offering the assistance of my advice, meaning that I believe it was not most wisely chosen to stand on the bin and perhaps --"

"Isn't there something you're supposed to be doing right now?" I asked in a withering tone.

"Oh, of course, Miss Fitzdarcy, certainly, you are always --"

"Billy, please return to your register, now," said an impatient voice over the intercom which I recognized as Elizabeth's. With a little yelp, Billy trotted back to the front end, while I exchanged an amused look with Colin, who was of course forgiven.

"So, Lindsey, what would it be? Idiot? Moron? First-class dork?"

"You mean Billy?"

"No, me. For my oh-so-Olympian feats in retrieving the cranberries. Olympian, but ill-fated, I fear," Colin deadpanned.

"None of the above!" I replied, laughing.

"Dunderhead, that must be it," said Colin cheerfully.

"Never. Not you."

I've known Colin for my entire life. When we were growing up, the Wesleys lived next door to us. We are also distantly related by marriage -- or used to be, rather -- because my Aunt Camilla (I'll get to her later -- she's not something you can pass over easily, however much you may wish to) is the ex-wife of Colin's father's cousin Clarence. I feel very sorry for Clarence. He was always so much nicer to me than Aunt Cam, but when they were getting divorced, Aunt Camilla managed to convince everyone that it was his fault. I know it wasn't -- Aunt Cam was having an affair. But everyone saw Clarence as the bad guy and Camilla was awarded most of the custody of their daughter. It wasn't fair. Annie is twenty-two, but she may as well be only twelve because Aunt Camilla is so oppressive.

Colin's older brother Fletcher, Bing Charleston (who lived on the other side of us), and my brother were best friends -- still are, in fact. Colin used to play with them a lot as well, despite being three years younger and the fact that older siblings and their friends rarely welcome the younger as a playmate.

Colin is the quintessential middle sibling. (He also has a sister, Susan, who is four years younger than he is.) He's a first-class peacemaker. He's the nicest person I have ever known ever. I think it's safe to say that there is no one quite like Colin.

He's a year older than me. He and my friend Elizabeth Benedict were in the same class in high school. Liz's sister Guinevere is two years older than them. Everyone always calls her Jen -- let's just say Mrs. Benedict was going through a highly romantic phase when Jen was born. Hmm... I'm considering taking back what I said. Maybe Colin isn't quite the nicest person I know -- it might be Jen, or maybe Bing. No, Colin is still the nicest... just in a different way. Trust me, I know. And if I hadn't been able to figure it out in the first twenty years that I knew him, an incident four years ago proved it beyond any doubt.

My mother died when I was six, and when I was eighteen, my father died. Fortunately, Will and I have always been very close. We still live together in the house we grew up in. The house is large and Will has one side and I the other, so we are still able to live like adults with our own lives. My father was a very successful businessman in the communications field and both Will and I were left a substantial amount when he died. Will was also left the business. This was not a sexist move on my father's part at all. He knew I had no interest in it at all while Will did. So I was left more cash and stocks and Will got the my father's share of the business. Until four years ago, twenty-five percent was publicly owned, another quarter was owned by my father's younger brother, Gardiner, who had been my father's second-in-command, and Will owned the other half.

I want to be a writer. I am a writer, I think, though I haven't had anything published to speak of... yet. Only a bit in small magazines and college reviews and such, and in that, only nonfiction. I write both fiction and about philosophy, which I was my major in college. Aunt Camilla of course disapproved, thinking it was impractical and also politically incorrect somehow. I don't think she likes Enlightenment philosophy much. I do. She said her brothers -- my father and Uncle Gardiner, are capitalist exploiters. And meanwhile she has how much money? Colin is fond of amusing himself by provoking her. But back to the immediate subject -- Aunt Cam thought that if I wanted to major in "any of that liberal arts drivel", I should have gone to law school and become some sort of women's advocacy lawyer. Sorry, Aunt Cam, but I don't think so. Failing me, she's living vicariously through her daughter Annie. Poor Annie. She's a nice girl, just a little... trampled. Anyway, my father and Will approved of my decision, and they matter far more to me than Aunt Camilla can ever hope to -- and though she doesn't like me much, she does hope to. I like Uncle Gardiner and Aunt Phyllis better.

Argh, I'm digressing again. Sorry. During my sophomore year of college, Will started a new division of the business, rather doubtfully sanctioned by Uncle Gard. He wanted to explore the computer and Internet aspect of the business further. Having a degree in computer science from MIT, Will figured he was invincible. That's a bit of a fault of his, and that together with his pride was not such a good combination. Bing's perpetually trusting nature and easygoing temperament didn't help much either, and as for Geoff Hollwick -- well, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Bing was a communications major and invested in Will's new division. He also helped with the planning and such. He was going to be the division controller. Geoffery Hollwick was the son of a college friend of my father's, an excellent man who managed the New York City branch before he died in a plane crash. Geoff was also a computer science major at MIT and became friends with Will. He was supposed to head the research in the new division; he said he had always wanted to be involved in the research, not the financial and legal matters, and Will and Bing believed him, having no reason not to. Legal and finance was to be Will's specialty until Fletcher Wesley graduated law school, when he would take over that part. Clarence Wesley was going to return to Rochester from Seattle and help them set it up as well. That of course reaped much wrath and displeasure about the whole plan from Camilla, but she would have disapproved anyway.

That summer, Will, Bing and Geoff were in the final stages of preparation. Colin and I, off from college, helped them with whatever we could. In the end of July, I had a dreadful fight with Will. I don't really remember what it was about anymore, but it doesn't really matter. A few days after the fight, he had some sort of accident and landed himself in the hospital with a couple of cracked ribs. Meanwhile, Bing and Uncle Gardiner were in Seattle meeting with Clarence.

I hadn't seen Geoff since I was eight, when his family moved to New York City.. He seemed nice enough... and then he told me that he loved me. He said that Will was mismanaging the business, that he was resorting to trickery to cover up losses and that was why there were going to be some numbers that didn't make sense. Geoff said that Will and Bing had agreed to let him take over the financial aspect.

I believed him. It still shocks me that I thought my own brother, who had done nothing but the best for me, was resorting to deceit and dishonesty to cover up his incompetence. I like to think that if I had been in my right mind, I never would have believed it for a second, but I was mad at Will, and Geoff said he loved me. I didn't love him, but it didn't matter, because he said that he loved me, and that was better than...

But there is no good excuse. I nearly wrecked the company. I should have gone straight to Will; instead, one Sunday evening I went with Geoff to the company's empty office building. He said he was going to show me proof of Will's financial fudging. Instead, he intended to seduce me.

Who knows what might have happened if a small part of my brain hadn't still been functioning properly. At the office, while Geoff was hedging about showing me the records, I excuse myself to use the ladies' room. I suppose I never fully believed Geoff after all, and while he was stalling, my doubts began to rise. Instead of going to the restroom, I went to Bing's office and called Colin on his cell-phone. Geoff had thought the office was deserted, but Colin had been working that evening as well, going through recent files in a store room. Some of the numbers Geoff had given him had been bothering his economist's brain.

Colin got to Will's office just as Geoff was becoming malicious because of my rejection of his advances. Colin is normally one of the calmest people I know, but I have never seen him as mad as he was then.

He asked me to go back to Bing's office and wait for him. I don't know what happened in Will's office, but forty minutes later I heard Geoff's car peel furiously out of the parking lot, and Colin, still seething, retrieved me from Bing's office and drove me to home.

When I say that Colin was furious, I mean at Geoff. With me, he couldn't have been nicer. That's Colin. He sat down with me at Will's kitchen table and gave me hot chocolate to drink in the last week of July. He listened and soothed as I told him everything, shaking uncontrollably. He told me that Geoff had been appropriating the new division's funds for the last few months. He also said he doubted anything could be proven against Geoff in court, and that the company's stock was about to crash.

Colin turned out to be right about everything. The stockholders had to be informed of all the money that had been drained from the company and the stock plummeted. It was difficult to recover the rest of the company because of the delicate position it was in, but fortunately, Gardiner and Clarence are business geniuses. My brother was mortified, but not angry with me. He said that he was more angry with Geoff about what he did to me than the money. Will blames himself for not realizing Geoff's deception and the failure of the new division. Bing blames himself for trusting Geoff to manage by himself while he and Gard were in Seattle and Will was in the hospital. Colin blames himself for not alerting Will or Bing as soon as he had suspicions. I still say it's my fault.

Will felt dreadful about the failure, partially because of his pride, but mostly because he felt he let his employees, stockholders, and Bing down. And in some way our father too. Will wanted to give all his holdings in the company to Uncle Gardiner, but he insisted that Will and I keep fifteen percent each. Gard and Clarence control the company now. Will has decided that he is not and will never be a businessman.

We both lost a lot of money from that fiasco. So did Bing. Will decided that in addition to learning more and more and still more about computer science, he should become better at working with people. He thinks that's part of the reason for the failure of the division.

Will and I have both worked at Wegmans since we were sixteen. A lot of kids at my school got huge allowances for doing virtually nothing, but Will and I never did. Our father thought we should have a job regardless of his income.

And now we're back. Will, Colin, Elizabeth, Jen, Bing, Bing's twin sister Lucia, and I are all front-end managers. When he isn't at Wegmans, Will takes more classes in computer stuff at the Rochester Institute of Technology and programs. (I swear, the boy is aiming for a Ph.D. in computer science, if such a thing is possible.) I write and take a few graduate classes at the University of Rochester. Colin is working on his Masters' degree in Economics from UR. Liz wants to be a journalist, but doesn't want to write for the local paper and I can't blame her; it's terrible. She does a bit of free lance work and sometimes writes opinion columns for online news services. Jen majored in psychology and also works as a counselor at Strong Hospital. She wants to go back to school to become a psychiatrist -- sometime, when she can afford it. Bing is a freelance contractor for marketing companies, not that he has time to accept many jobs. Lucia (we always call her Carley) is a jazz pianist.

"Lummox, that's it!" Colin's exclamation broke into my thoughts.

"Huh?" I asked, confused.

"Uh, never mind. Twelve-thirty -- you and I are done! Will's on until 2 am tonight, isn't he?"

"Yeah, that's what he gets for being too lazy to take an earlier shift."

"I'll take you home then."

"Thanks." An errant reddish curl slipped out of my braid. It's amazing how little I look like my brother. He's tall with very dark hair and eyes. I'm small and slight, with light red-gold hair and I suppose my eyes would be hazel -- gold-brown and darker green, and sometimes a bit of gray. Liz and Jen don't look much alike though either. Carley and Bing do, though. So do Colin and Fletch -- brown hair, blue-gray eyes.

Colin and I leaned over the schedule book, both groaning. Liz and Will were scheduled for much of the same time -- and so were both of us to bear witness to the fracas. Billy Burg was scheduled for five days. Bing was going to be working at the same time as Jen, which meant he would be rendered somewhat useless. And the name Carol Ann Gorbing was listed. It was going to be a very long week.

Part 2

Posted on Friday, 22 September 2000

"Thanks again, Colin," Lindsey said to me as she got in the car.

"Hey, no problem. But I thought Will was going to leave you his car today."

"Yeah, that's what was supposed to happen -- but Will forgot and left while I was out roller-blading. Needless to say, he received a rather displeased call from me when I got home, but I think I'll go easy on him. He says that half of today's class can't even turn on the computer."

"Ooh, that must infuriate his sensibilities."

"Yep, sure sounded like it did when I called him. Oh, and then someone clicked on something to 'see what would happen' and Will had to reboot the whole system."

"Ouch."

Every Saturday, Will is commissioned by some corporation or other to train its employees in computer literacy. When she works Saturdays, Lindsey usually takes him to the company of the week so she can drive to Wegmans, but apparently the dolt had forgotten she had to work this morning.

"I called the Liz to see if one of them could take me, but they had already left."

"Hey, it's no problem. Don't worry about it. So all the Benedicks are working today?"

"Liz, Jen, and Kristy are. I don't know about Myra and Lynda -- probably not."

"Sounds good," I said with a momentary grin. The three oldest Benedicks are definitely the most preferable of the five sisters. Elizabeth -- wow, what a girl, I went through high school with her. Her constant squabbles with Will can be a bit of a pain... but let's just say I've got a few theories about that. And Saint Jen -- her only transgression is distracting Bing, not that she tries to. Bing has had a crush on Jen for oh, about the last fifteen years. He never did much about it, though. There are a multitude of reasons (none of them particularly substantial) for why he hasn't. I don't know everything that went on, since Bing is three years older than me and Jen is two years older. But I think I know enough to make some logical deductions, though. Bing is a good friend of mine, but I can't help thinking that this is utterly ridiculous. You'll never see me doing something like that. Slap me upside the head if you ever do, but it's never going to happen, trust me.

Kristen Benedict has improved considerably over the past five or six years. Before she used to be nearly as much of an embarrassment to Jen and Liz as the two youngest were. Not that they ever said that, but you could just tell. Jen and Liz of course had a good deal to do with her improvement, but I credit Lindsey at least as much. I admit, I used to think of Kristy as silly, insipid, empty-headed -- but she has turned out to be quite intelligent and very pleasant, and with a good deal of spirit, now that she is out from behind the shadow of Lynda, the spoiled youngest daughter. She got her Bachelors Degree in business this year -- certainly not a typical move for ditz. Yes, Kristy has improved a remarkable amount. When school starts again next week, she and Andrew Dennison, showing a great deal more sense than I did, are going to pursue an M.B.A. at the University of Rochester.

I suddenly noticed Lindsey was speaking to me again.

"I don't know what's up with him. He's been so... distracted lately," Lindsey said.

"Mmm-hmm..." I replied vaguely. As I said, I have my... theories. I wonder if Lindsey might; it's distinctly possible. An economist and a writer/philosophy major -- theories abound.

We drove in silence a bit longer. Finally, Lindsey began tentatively, "Err... Colin... Carol's name wasn't really on the schedule, was it?"

I groaned. "You saw it too? I was hoping it was just some sort of caffeine-induced late-night horrific delusion."

"Guess not. She doesn't like me, you know. Not at all. She just pretends to -- because of Will, I suppose."

"I've noticed," I replied grimly. Carol Ann was in the same class as Jen Benedict -- two years behind Will and a year ahead of Lizzy and me.

"But I don't get it!" Lindsey exclaimed. "Carol working at Wegmans. What's going on?"

"Cost of living in New York City got too high?" I suggested. "Especially for someone with spending habits like hers."

Another thought stuck Lindsey. "You know," she said direly, "Lizzy's not going to like this. Carol always hated her, and now she's going to be tossing comments about her magazine internship -- which brings me back to the original point -- why's she here?!?"

"Oh, uhh ... let me think..." I began to recall something my ex-aunt had said about a year ago. "Didn't Camilla say that the magazine stopped paying their interns? Carol's mother was very upset and took it as a personal insult to her daughter."

"Oh yeah. She did say that." Lindsey slumped down in her seat. "Poor Will," she commented.

"Ohhhh, yes. Think there's any chance that she won't take up the hunt again?"

"Nope."

"That's what I think."

We arrived at Wegmans a half hour early: breakfast. Yes, we're dependent. Lindsey and I took our food to the breakroom and sat down at a table near the back. We chatted in peace for a few minutes before I felt a chilling sensation down my back and my intuition began to give off alarm signals. I looked across the table at Lindsey and saw an expression of acute displeasure on her face. "Uh-uh. Not today. Not 'til Monday."

"Sorry," Lindsey replied, looking over my shoulder. "Today."

"Do you think we can hide behind the lockers?" I suggested.

"No such luck," she sighed. "We have been Spotted."

"Spotted...and Marked as Prey?"

"It looks that way."

"Maybe we could just shrink down?"

Carol Ann Gorbing plopped herself into the chair next to Lindsey's and arranged her arms in such a way that Lindsey was forced to scoot over.

"Lindsey, Colin, it is soooo nice to see you. It has simply been too too long," she gushed.

"Ahhmm..." Lindsey and I mumbled together.

"This will be so wonderful. So many old friends!" Uh, which ones might they be, Carol? "The two of you, and Jen, Elizabeth" -- Carol could not avoid almost spitting out that name -- "Bing and Lucia" -- Carley! Her friends call her Carley! -- "oh and Jen's dear little sister Kristen is here now isn't she?" Oh come on, Carol, don't be that hypocritical; you now you always looked down on Kristen. "And of course," Carol continued, as she kept throwing glances over my shoulder at the door to the breakroom, "your brother, Lindsey --"

"Will isn't working today," Lindsey and I chorused.

"Oh." Carol endeavored to disguise her distinct disappointment.

"Sorry," Lindsey added, causing me to smirk a bit. Carol gave her a frosty little smile and sipped her no-fat-no-sugar coffee drink of some kind. I leaned back in my chair and amused myself by contemplating the marked difference between Lindsey and Carol.

While I was absorbed trying to recall what color her now decidedly platinum blond hair was originally, Carol went into attack mode.

"Oh, Lindsey. I was so distraught when I heard about your brother's business. Camilla told my mother all about it of course, they are such good friends."

"I see," said Lindsey tightly.

"Yeeeees...well. Oh! And you must have felt terribly, considering --"

What?!? What was this -- this -- this Concubine of Satan* doing to my poor little Lindsey?!?

"So, why are you here, Carol?" I interrupted loudly. Very loudly, it would seem, since a few people turned to look at me. "I guess the magazine thing didn't work out so great, huh?"

Carol glared at me. "They stopped paying the interns -- even though we do all the real work -- and some pig-headed editor refused to promote me to a paid position," she sniffed.

"Poor thing," I said. Lindsey kicked me under the table.

"And then I had a very traumatic break-up. His fault, of course -- I dumped him."

"Of course," I agreed. Carol Ann seemed to suspect no sarcasm.

"But Carol... how come you're here today? I thought you started Monday," Lindsey asked.

"Orientation," she replied smugly. "I'm going to be a manager."

"Happy thought indeed," I muttered. Lindsey, I presume, meant to kick the table leg, but nabbed my leg instead. She shot a look of apology at me, which I dismissed with a casual nod.

Carol, annoyed that she was being left out of this silent conversation, asked whether Will was coming later today.

"Nope. He usually has another job Saturday, sometimes he works in the evening, but I don't think tonight," Lindsey answered, then looked as if she regretted betraying Will's whereabouts to Carol Ann.

Carol wallowed in her disappointment for a moment, then looked up at me with a little gleam in her eye. Uh-ohhhh...

Carol's foot touched mine, then began to slide up my leg. Yikes. I literally jumped off my chair a few inches and choked on my orange juice.

Carol's first target is always Will, failing him, my brother Fletch is next, then Bing and I are up.

Lindsey was staring at me with a startled expression. "Umm... are you okay, Colin?"

I spluttered. "Fi --" *cough* "--Fine. I --" *cough COUGH COUGH* "I just need some waah --" *COUGH* "--water. Yeah. Water." I took a long sip of Lindsey's iced tea. Close enough. "Ahem. Thank you." I handed the glass back to Lindsey, who continued to eye me dubiously. I looked hard at her, flicked my glance over to Carol Ann, and back at Lindsey with a slight expressive look. Her eyes widened, then she raised her eyebrows. After a moment, a very faint amused smile began to appear. I frowned back at her. No Lindsey. It is not funny. She shot me another inquisitive look. Women always want details. I thought a moment, then glanced over at Carol again and tapped Lindsey's leg with my foot. By the time this wordless communication was complete, Carol was glaring at both of us. As I said, she hates being excluded from a discussion, especially a covert one such as this. She must have her share in the conversation -- or at least know what's being said.

"I have to go now," she said haughtily, flouncing out of the break-room. Sadly for her, she was so intent on flouncing she nearly collided with Lucia Charleston in the doorway.

"I am so freakin' sick of that man!" Carley exploded.

"Mmm...which one would that be?" Lindsey asked as we got up from the table and threw away our trash.

"Elliot Bath-Waters," Carley spat through her teeth. "His oldest daughter is getting married and he wants my band to play at the engagement party, but he keeps changing the date -- and nearly everything else!"

"Irene Bath-Waters is getting married?" Lindsey repeated incredulously.

"How?" I blurted out. Lindsey whapped me across the stomach. "Owww. Why'd you do that?!?"

"Not nice."

"Oh come on, Linz, you know that's only what you we're thinking. I mean really, now that we're in the vicinity of one of Satan's Concubines, we might as well acknowledge another --" Lindsey's arm whacked my side again. "Okay okay."

"I'm doing this for your own good."

"Whenever women say their doing something for my own good I get nervous."

"I'm training you --"

"Now I'm really nervous."

"If you'd let me continue -- you can't talk like that to customers --"

"Come on Linz, I know that."

"-- or to the cashiers either. Especially the younger ones. You confuse 'em. And they think you're teasing them."

"I do not! Okay, well yes -- not that much! And what about Jack."

"I promise to slap Jack as well if a suitable opportunity arises."

"Fine." By this time, we had exited the break-room, punched in, and gone down the stairs into the main floor. Lindsey stooped to pick up an orange off the floor as we passed through the produce section.

"Hey! And what makes you think I was thinking that too?"

"I always know what you're thinking."

"Betcha don't."

"Of course I do. You're thinking 'if Colin really always knew what I was thinking, I would be most seriously displeased.' "

"You are impossible."

"Yes, but you love me that way."

"That's right."

The rest of the day progressed fairly sanely, or perhaps more accurately, relatively sanely. Carley calmed down and even refrained from glaring at men who resembled Elliot Bath-Waters in appearance or character. (Thought maybe for him lack of character would be a more appropriate designation.) Caroline was off doing a crash course for the managing position, so there were no further problems from her. Jen was working way over in the Pharmacy Department, so Bing was able function in an intelligent way. Lindsey says that whenever Jen is in sight, Bing is rendered somewhat useless. No. When Jen is around, Bing is rendered completely useless. Elizabeth was working but Will was not, thus preserving the peace. Billy for the most part remained quiet.

I saw a register light flashing and went over. "What's the problem?" I asked Margaret Dashwood, the cashier.

She turned around to look at me. "Oh, sorry Colin -- Liz is already taking care of it. I forgot to turn off my light." At that juncture, Liz returned.

"Oh no, it's not your fault," I assured Maggie. "It's her fault," I said, indicating Liz.

"I knew you were going to say that," she retorted.

Maggie grinned. "Yeah, I thought you'd say that too."

"Wow. So I've become that predictable, huh?"

"Yikes, I've got to get a new pitch, don't I."

"Indeed you do," said Lizzy. "I'm expecting it by the time you leave tonight."

"I leave at 7:30, my dear. Not much time, even for a brilliant mind like mine."

"So soon?" she asked mockingly.

"Yeah, just love these eight and a half hour shifts."

"We all do. Now get thee to the podium. Some poor kid is waiting for you."

I went back obediently. "Please state your name, age, residence, and occupation," I told the teenager, who was wearing an "I'm New" ribbon and the yellow nametag designating sixteen and seventeen year olds (and now a rather puzzled expression). Lindsey was restocking a beverage cooler next to me. She glared pointedly. I didn't really want to get whacked across the middle again. "Did you just come in?" I amended.

Cathy nodded.

"Okay, let me see..." I bent over the lists of people and times.

Jack Willard, a college friend of mine, arrived and started filling the helium balloons. Yes - in the frozen foods department. Don't ask me. Maybe they figure ice cream gets people in a party mood or something.

"Hey Lindsey," he greeted her. "How is it today?"

"Alright. Not too busy right now, but it was earlier."

I picked up my yellow highlighter and scanned down the list, overhearing snippets of conversation.

"Are you on tomorrow, Lindsey?"

"No, not until Monday."

"I thought you usually worked on Sundays."

"Well, not this week.

"Anything planned?"

"Yep. Girl stuff with Liz and Jen and Kristy. Carley might come if she can, but Elliot Bath-Waters is currently ruining her life."

"Oh, yeah, I heard his hellion of an eldest daughter is getting married. Never met any of them, though."

"No loss," said Lindsey darkly. "They went to our school. Everyone always liked Johanna but Irene is a hellion, as you say, and the youngest - can't remember her name - was a whining brat. Anyway, Carley says Elliot keeps changing all the arrangements and dates and everything; it's driving her crazy."

"Carley can tough it out."

"Of course. She's no pushover."

"Unlike her brother."

"Well...yes. I suppose Bing can be like that at times."

"Oh, hey - I heard some woman - Carolyn or something like that - came back, everyone's in a panic."

Lindsey groaned. "Maybe not a panic, just dread. Not quite everyone's favorite person."

"Sounds like fun," said Jack.

"Oh, I'm sure that you can devise some way to entertain yourself with her."

"Excuse me?!?"

"All I meant was that you'll enjoy tormenting her. She's... well, you'll meet her, I'm sure -- she's going to be a manager. You'll see what I mean... trust me."

"Heh, this does sound like fun."

"Well, take it easy. She has a tendency to throw tantrums when things aren't going her way."

"Uh-huh..." said Jack deviously.

I looked up to see Cathy Morrislind waving her hands in front of me. "What's up?" I asked her.

"Umm...where do you want me to go?"

"I didn't tell you already?"

"Nooo..." Cathy looked at me doubtfully.

"Huh. Sorry about that." I consulted the list again. "Mmm... go on 17. Tell Maggie she's going home."

Jack finished filling the balloons and leaned over the podium, looking for some task list. Another cashier appeared. "Back from break," she announced.

"Was it everything you dreamed of and more?"

"Jaaaack..." I said. "Be nice or face Lindsey's repercussions." Lindsey laughed.

"Yeah Jack, listen Colin, he knows a little about that."

"Fourteen's going on break," I told the cashier.

"What? - I am being nice!" Jack protested.

Liz passed by. "Going home soon, Lindsey?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"I'm here until nine - see you tomorrow. Remember - ice cream and Darcy. Who could ask for anything more."

"Darcy's okay, but I don't like him that much," Lindsey replied.

"Pride and Prejudice," Jack and I chorused.

"Women," Jack shrugged, shaking his head.

Part 3: Curiouser and Curiouser

Posted on Sunday, 22 October 2000

FINALLY... if anyone still remembers this. Sorry it's been so long -- school, homework, work, activities, more homework, etc... I'll *try* to become more frequent. And last post (yeah, waaaaay back then) I forgot to credit Sania with the designation of Satan's concubine for Caroline -- Sorry! (That was why there was that unexplained asterisk, if anyone noticed.) To avoid confusion, I'll be using this color in my chapter heading whenever Lindsey is narrating; other colors for other characters ~ Kate

My brother dropped me off at Lizzy, Jen, and Kristy's Tudor-style townhouse on his way to work late Sunday morning.

"Come in and just say hi," I urged him.

"No -- I'd rather not."

"Oh, come on, Will -- she's not going to eat you."

"I know that," he replied sharply. "But I can't stop -- I'll be late."

"You have more than half an hour."

"I have things to do."

"Such as?" I asked archly. He didn't have anything to do.

"I have to go to the bank."

"It's Sunday, Will."

"The ATM."

I sighed and got out of the car. "You are such a wimp."

"Have a nice time."

"You'll pick me up later?"

"Yeah, look for me a little after seven." My brother drove off.

Jen opened the door for me. "Come in, Lindsey," she greeted warmly. "Liz is already salivating over the movie covers."

I smiled and followed the taller woman into the apartment.

"Lizzy," Jen called. "Lizzy! stop drooling and help me with this!"

Elizabeth sighed and joined us in the kitchen. Jen handed her a large plate of Oreos. Obviously, it was not quite going to be a day filled with 'nutritious balanced meals.' Oh well, chocolate is underestimated.

Jen Benedict is the closest thing to human perfection that has ever been achieved. She is unerringly generous, sensible, patient, and thoughtful. Her long, wavy, light brown hair is never ever out of place. Her features and figure are perfectly proportioned and classical. No wonder Bing Charleston has spent the latter part of his life drooling over her.

"Is Carley coming?" I asked her. "And where's Kristy?"

"Bing called me earlier -- Carley won't be able to come. Elliot and Irene decided to make a sudden change in the music selections, so Carley had to call an emergency rehearsal," Jen sighed. "I hate to say it, but I can't help feeling that the Bath-Waters are taking advantage of her. And Kristy has been shut up in the office with Andy since breakfast -- they're going over work from college and this summer's classes."

"Oh, that's right," I said. "They're starting their MBA classes soon aren't they?"

"Two weeks. I think they're going to wreck the printer." Jane grimaced as she heard her middle sister shriek in the room next door. Andrew Dennison uttered a groan followed by an loud explicative.

I heard Lizzy open the door to the office. "Maltreatment of the equipment will not make it behave, children."

"Okay, Liz, you tell us what will," Andrew retorted.

"I don't know, maybe a crowbar," Lizzy replied impishly.

"Wait, wait -- I think I've got it, Andy," Kristy said. "No. Yes. Nooo... Yes! Um, wait. No. Yes...? Umm... just a second. Okay... there we go... I think."

Lizzy closed the door and returned to the kitchen. "I think we better keep Andrew away from the heavy tools," she chuckled.

"Well, Lizzy, you were the one giving him ideas," Jen reminded her.

"Ahhh..." Liz turned to me reproachfully, changing the subject. "So Will brought you?"

"Well, yes, of course..."

"And he's picking you up?"

"Yes..." I sighed. This was shaping up to be another of Lizzy's "get-yourself-a-car" lectures.

"And when Will can't take you somewhere and he's using his car?"

"Then I ask Colin or you or Jen," I mumbled wearily. "Or I take the bus. Or I just walk, if possible."

"Exactly. You --"

I cut her off. "Elizabeth. I don't want a car. And I don't need a car! Maybe it's a bit inconvenient at times, but not nearly enough to compensate for the cost and the gas and the parking and the maintenance and..."

Liz was about to say something when Jen interrupted. "You've been over this before. Many, many times," she said sweetly. "Leave it alone, Elizabeth. Not everyone has to think as you do."

Liz loves her car, a red 1988 Ford she bought when she was a junior in college. She finds it impossible that I can be twenty-three and a half, independent, and employed -- and not want my own car. Personally, I am entirely content to drive Will's car or get a ride from him or Colin or one of the Benedicks.

"If you're having some computer problems, Will can look at it when he comes to pick me up," I offered as we followed Jen into the living room.

Liz pursed her lips. "No offense, Lindsey, but I would rather not be beholden to your brother --"

"Oh, Lizzy! You wouldn't be beholden! What nonsense you talk!"

"-- And I am quite sure that he wouldn't like being obliged to do anything for me."

"Lizzy..." I sighed.

Elizabeth's lips twitched with amusement. "After all... I am not attractive enough to tempt him."

"What?!?"

"Jen is," Lizzy continued. "Just enough. But I am only tolerable."

I could tell Liz was amused, not insulted; nevertheless I was mystified.

"What are you talking about, Lizzy?" I saw a devious glint in her dark eyes. "My brother didn't say that, did he?" I demanded.

"He did indeed," she replied with a grin.

"Oh, Lizzy, I am sure he could not have said anything like that," Jen protested. "You must have been mistaken, perhaps he was speaking of... merchandise."

Lizzy let out a shriek of laughter. "Merchandise named Elizabeth Benedict?"

"Well..."

"I can't believe he would say such a thing about you," I said, puzzled.

Liz shrugged. "Don't worry about it, Lindsey -- I'm not offended. It's just Will."

"Yes, but..."

"Hey, I don't hold it against you, trust me."

"But Lizzy! He doesn't think that you are 'only tolerable'. He thinks you're beautiful."

"Huh?" Liz dropped a jug of apple cider. Jen stuck out her foot to dull the impact just before it hit the floor. Both cider and floor survived unscathed. "Will thinks I'm beautiful?!?!? How did that happen?"

"Umm..." I fumbled. A devious gleam appeared in the deep olive green flecks of Lizzy's dark eyes. "Wellllllllllll..."

"Huh. He thinks I'm beautiful. How fascinating..."

Whoops. I wondered what kind of devilment Lizzy was plotting.

Liz stood with her hands on her hips and shook back her waist-length brown-black curls. "Because considering the way he's treated me, you would never have thought that, would you, Lindsey? Jen?"

"Perhaps not," said Jen gently. I gave Lizzy a tentative little smile and hoped to drop through the floorboards. It didn't happen.

"Well now, what might that mean?" asked Lizzy sarcastically.

"He's shy?" I squeaked.

"Maybe not," Liz retorted. "You know that as well as I do, Linz."

"Ahhh..."

"How do you know this, Lindsey?"

"OhumwellIheardhimsaysotoColinbutactuallyIdon'tthinkthatreallyahhhhhhhhhh..."

Lizzy looked critically at me for a moment, then flopped onto the couch and began to laugh, shaking her head. "Who would have ever thought this would be?"

Jen had been gazing at Lizzy with no small amount of alarm. "How about we start the movies now," she suggested persuasively.

Liz raised an eyebrow at her older sister. "Very well, Jenny." Jen ignored Lizzy's sarcastic, pointed use of the nickname.

Jen put on Sense and Sensibility, since Kristy didn't like it as much as Pride and Prejudice. We had watched Persuasion and the second two Emmas for last month's Austen-film festival.

As I sat curled up on a living room chair watching the movie, I was preoccupied with worries about my revelations about Will to Lizzy.

Edward Ferrars sat one of the Dashwood sisters' needlepoint.

"Done!" Jen, Elizabeth, and I turned our heads toward the office door at Kristen's happy exclamation. Consequently we were treated to an interesting scene.

"Left. No, sorry, I mean right. No -- just two steps. Okay. Now you have to go through the door," Kristy directed. Andrew Dennison carried two large file boxes stacked one on top of the other, blocking his view. Kristy had her hands on his back, steering his progress rather erratically as she tried to peek around him and the boxes. "You better slow down a little. Slooooooooowly."

"Right," said Andrew absently.

"What in the world are the two of you doing?" Liz laughed.

"Okay, Andy, I think somewhere around here there are a few steps -- Eeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!" Kristy shrieked as Andy missed the short staircase and tripped. The boxes toppled over upside-down and onto their sides, strewing the carefully arranged papers across the living room floor. Andy lay sprawled across the floor, draped over the boxes and across the four stairs that separated the office from the living room door. Kristy tumbled on top of him.

Jen rushed over to help. "Are you two all right?" she asked, alarmed.

"Mumph," Kristy said into Andrew's shirt. She clambered off of Andy, pressing her hand into his back in the process, which provoked an anguished "ARGH" from that quarter. "Sorry," said Kristen meekly.

Andy rolled onto his back and blinked dazed blue eyes at Jen. "Pain," he commented briefly.

"Would you like me to get you some ice?" Jen offered anxiously.

"Naaaaaaahhhh." Andy rose to his knees rather messily and began picking up papers. Kristy finished the vigorous rubbing of her knees and elbows and joined him. Jen concluded that if they would not take ice they should at least drink some ice water, and Lizzy and I exchanged bemused glances over the crawling Kristen and Andrew.

"Only in this family," Liz muttered as she replaced the battered and bashed boxes. I picked little pieces of Oreos, which had been knocked to the floor by Andy, out of the rug. Returning with the water, Jen next looked intently at Andy, seeming to be checking for signs of blood in his short sandy hair.

Kristy frowned at the hastily packed boxes of papers. "They're all out of order now. We could get them organized again if you want. Why don't you stay for lunch; it was my fault anyway."

Andrew looked up at her and rose from the floor, dusting off his blue shirt. "Thanks," he hesitated, "but it's okay. I'll do it myself -- you've got this thing planned; you wouldn't want to miss that. And I should have been paying more attention anyway. Well, I'll see you later."

"You're going now?" Jen asked, who in her usual maternal way seemed to be worried that the capably functioning Andy might faint on his way home, or at least become disoriented.

"Yeahhh... I've got some stuff to do anyway, and you girls are doing your little thing --" Liz, Kristy, and I rolled our eyes "-- Don't worry, Jenny, I'll be fine." He leaned back into the family room. "Bye, Kristy -- maybe I'll call you later tonight, okay?" With that Andrew Dennison exited the apartment.

Kristy smiled and shook her head indulgently. "Odd boy."

"Exactly, that's why you two suit each other well," Lizzy teased. "Both completely nuts."

"Heyyyy... but trust me Liz, together Andy and I can get at least three times as much stuff done than we ever could in any study group we were in during college. By the middle of junior year we gave up on them entirely and just worked together."

"Just got to try to avoid those freak accidents. And I don't want my printer murdered by a impatient twenty-two year old male!"

Kristen laughed. "I'll keep him from harming it, Lizzy."

"And yourselves."

"Might be a bit more difficult."

"That appears likely."

At quarter to seven, the doorbell rang. "That must be Will," I said, surprised. "He's not supposed to be here for another half an hour, though -- and it's usually so busy Sunday evenings; I can't imagine why they'd want him to go home early..."

Lizzy assumed an unconcerned and haughty attitude as Jen went to answer the door. I noticed and sunk down in my chair, remembering my prior indiscretion. Kristy stared at her sister in puzzlement.

Instead of my brother, Colin's tall, stringbean figure followed Jen into the living room.

"You again?" I exclaimed.

"Me again!" he grinned at me. "The Wesley Taxi Service, but since I can see you don't want me, I'll be on my way."

"Of course I want you."

"You know," said Colin, looking contemplatively at the ceiling, "I get that a lot from women," he finished, causing a collective groan.

"What happened to Will?"

"Your brother," he said, shaking his head. "Your brother. You know, I --" he stopped. "I don't know what's happened to Will. The man has lost his mind somewhere between Buffalo and North Syracuse, and that takes in a lot of distance."

"Aaaand...?" I arched an eyebrow at Colin.

"Aaaand... he mistook a nine for a seven apparently, so that's why I'm here."

I tilted my head towards the ceiling and sighed. "Niagara Falls and Albany," I told Colin.

"Eh, you think it's that bad?"

"Uh-huh."

"A few more weeks and we might be moving towards Long Island... and possibly even into the Canadian border."

"Hmm... we should really intervene before it gets through customs. Save him from himself. After that it might be impossible."

"Certainly. ...But do you really think Canadian officials would let Will's sanity through customs?"

"Good point."

The two oldest Benedicts, accustomed to these sort of exchanges between me and Colin, did not seem to find anything out of the ordinary. Kristen looked a bit doubtful, but amused.

"So, Colin?" asked Lizzy.

"Yes, Elizabeth?"

"Exactly why is Will's sanity at stake?"

Colin grew wary. "Just stress... Well, ready Lindsey? I'm sorry to shoot out of here so fast, but I've got ice cream in the car."

I groaned. "You would."

"Jen, Lizzy... Kristy..." Colin paused thoughtfully, then suddenly turned and exited with me in tow, inducing us to contemplate the abruptness of male comings and goings in the Benedict apartment today.

"So, Lindsey, have fun?" Colin asked as we drove to my house.

"Yeah... um, Colin?"

"What?"

"I... I think Lizzy... well, not so good things happened in the Will department..."

"Eh?" Colin looked up from adjusting the radio tuner.

"Mmm... I sort of told her Will finds her attractive... and..."

"Ahh, don't worry about it. Lots of men find Liz attractive. I do," he added cheerfully.

"Colin..."

"What? Do I not count as well?"

"I think you count twice."

"Heh! Meaning?"

I gave him a pointed look.

"What? I like women."

"No kidding."

"Oh, come on, Lindsey," he protested. "And you don't even know --" he stopped and turned the volume up on the radio.

I narrowed my eyes. "I don't even know the worst of it, do I?"

Colin paused before answering. "Well... why does there have to be a 'worst'?" I was silent. "Hey, want to eat my ice cream with me?"

This provoked a small smile. "What kind?"

"Chocolate chip."

"Okay -- provided you don't do anything weird with it like Will does."

"Define weird."

"Strawberry syrup on chocolate chip ice cream."

"Not my thing."

"Good."

"I do, however, like to mash it around so it assumes a sort of half melted, half frozen state."

"I think I can deal with that."

"You should try it, it's fun -- you can make all these little hills and shapes, really play around. It's like small-scale snow sculpting."

"Aren't you ever going to grow up?"

"So you're implying that I'm not?"

"I really don't know. Occasionally you seem more like four than nearly twenty-four... and there are times you act like a seventeen year old," I said sarcastically.

"See, this is what you say. But you know you still like me."

"You're so impossible... for me to dislike."

*Mysterious Ways, U2

Interlude: Just One Kiss

Posted on Wednesday, 1 November 2000

Seven years ago...

Lindsey Fitzdarcy, sixteen, swung slowly back and forth on the playground in back of the town library. Her feet dragged across the silt underneath the swing, her face was turned upward. The expression in her eyes and faint smile-frown revealed her day-dreamy state of mind. Abruptly, into the neighboring swing dropped a figure clad in wet sneakers, grass stained jeans, and a sweatshirt streaked with sweat and mud.

"Hey, what's up, Spanky," it greeted cheerily.

Lindsey turned and blushed, distinctly pleased. "Colin..." she smiled.

The assistant pee-wee football coach nudged a pile of books with his foot. "These yours?"

"Yeah, I --"

Colin leaned over and transferred the books from the wet grass to a pile of leaves. "Fitzgerald. Nice," he commented. "English independent reading?"

"Yes. I was originally doing Nathanael West, but I traded. He was so depressing... and so..." Lindsey wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. "So disillusioning." Blue-gray eyes directed a serious look at her. "I don't like being disillusioned," Lindsey defended.

Again the searching look. "I know," said Colin calmly. Lindsey frowned and looked at the ground. "I did Fitzgerald too," he added. "I almost put down Charles Brockden Brown for first choice -- the spontaneous combustion thing was intriguing -- but then I thought naaahhh, I don't like the Edgar Allen Poe kind of stuff too much. Well, you know Fitzgerald isn't going to be a merry Sunday picnic in the park either, so... whatcha starting with?"

"This Side of Paradise.

"So'd I." Colin attempted to brush bits of grass out of his light brown hair and succeeded in streaking yet more mud across his forehead.

Lindsey smirked and made a face. "How did you get that dirty just coaching?"

Colin grinned. "Actually, the kids left nearly an hour ago. Post-game coaches' scrimmage. There were some other guys too, of course. My team won," he added happily. "Of course." Colin had quit scholastic sports after freshman year -- not enough time due to accelerated classes and other activities, and in the case of football, "not enough weight." He satisfied his love of football, baseball, hockey, basketball, and lacrosse by coaching and refereeing for younger teams and summer sports camps.

"I see." They drifted briefly into silence. The wistful, dreamy look reappeared on Lindsey's face. Colin frowned in perplexity. "You know, there was something I was going to ask you," he muttered.

"What?"

"Can't remember. Huh..." Colin frowned, then brightened. "Oh yeah! Got a date for the prom?"

Lindsey blinked. "Nooo... it's only October."

"Yeah, true. I probably never had a date until two weeks before, I think. No wait -- did I have a date? Oh yeah! I went with Lizzy. We planned that early in the year, now I remember. That was great, not really a date at all, 'cause we were just friends, so we could both do pretty much what ever we wanted."

Lindsey rolled her eyes, muttering "So many girls, so little time."

"Yeah, thank you, missy. I'm offering myself as back-up plan A."

"How flattering."

"What? Probably won't happen anyway."

"Mmmm..." Lindsey murmured. She scuffled her shoe in the silt under the swing. Dejected, frustrated -- he just had to be such an older brother, always. Why couldn't he --

Catching something in her tone and expression, Colin turned and looked at her. "Yes?"

"...Nothing."

"No?"

Lindsey wrinkled her nose, fidgeted, blushed and looked down. "Mmmm... hmm. I... aaaah."

"Very explicit, my dear."

Lindsey screwed up her face and blushed again. To tell him, of all people... the idea was not appealing. And yet... As Colin watched patiently, she sighed, rolled her eyes in exasperation, and finally gave in. "I've never been kissed," she said matter-of-factly.

"Ahha. So that's what all those gyrations were about." Colin looked at her levelly. "There are worse things," he said solemnly.

She began swinging frantically "Well, yesssss... but..."

"I don't see why it's so terrible," said Colin nonchalantly, watching her energetically increase altitude. "All the same, I suppose it does surprise me a bit."

Lindsey put her foot on the ground to stop and nearly tumbled off the swing. "Really?" she demanded doubtfully.

"Sure."

Lindsey leaned against the swing chain. "Hmmm."

"Hmm."

Lindsey began pivoting nervously back and forth on the swing, unconscious of Colin's deliberating gaze. Suddenly she looked up, green eyes met blue. "Yeah?"

Colin stood up. "Come here."

"What?"

Colin leaned down -- smelled lavender soap -- knew he smelled of sweat and at best, crushed grass -- hoped she wouldn't mind -- hoped she wouldn't want to kill him for this whole thing -- figured it was too late to back out... kissed her.

Lindsey looked up at him, dazed. She found she had trouble meeting his eyes; she knew she was blushing deeply. "I -- Thank you," she said desperately. Colin bit back a small laugh.

"No problem," he replied pleasantly.

Lindsey nodded. Her knees seemed dangerously unsteady. She was lost for a moment, then decided, "I ah... I'm going to go... home now."

"Okay. If you wait about fifteen minutes, I can take you home. No, shoot, I didn't drive today. But we might as well walk together; I've just got to look for something at the library."

"Ummm... no thank you. I'm just going to walk... now..." She started off.

"Books?" reminded Colin, handing them to her.

"Oh! Oh, thank you..."

"You go that way," he noted gently.

"What?"

"Your house -- it's that way."

"Right. Um... bye, Colin." Lindsey plunged with desperate rapidity across the fields. Bemused, Colin watched her, then sat down the swing, picked up a stick, and began scraping mud off his sneakers.

Once past the library property, Lindsey slowed her pace to an abstracted, dreamy speed. She tilted her head back and watched the sky, oblivious to other pedestrians and cars.

I Only Want to Be With You, Mike Hawker, Ivor Raymond

Continued In Next Section