That 70's Pride & Prejudice

Chapter 1

"Gary, man, put me on this story! I know I can uncover the truth."

Gary Tate, assignment editor for the Orlando Sentinel, chuckled over his cigar at Libby's fanaticism. "Libby, you're a good recipe scout. You belong in the food section. Leave the environmental politics to the big boys!"

Libby Bennet, 25, scowled at the sweaty, balding man. "Gary, you are so out of touch. Men can't do this story justice. I've got the passion and drive to get to the heart of this."

"Libby, you're a good writer. Let me tell you what. I'll give you a chance if you'll agree to work with Richard. It'll be a team-writing experience."

She sighed. "OK, that'll work. Richard's a decent journalist. What time do you need the story by?"

"Have it to proofing by 10 p.m." He gave her some other details about what she could and could not do, and she took notes on her legal pad and walked out.

"Hey, Richard!" She peeked around the corner into the older man's cubicle. "Are you up to going on assignment?"

Richard Williams, who at 34 was handsome and charming, grinned. He had returned from Vietnam two years ago. "As long as it doesn't involve me hunting down Charlie, I'm down. What are we looking for?"

Libby sat down on Richard's extra chair. "Nope, no Charlie. Fascists instead of communists. Disney's holding a press conference today about a new park they're thinking of opening. I want to find out if that park will wreak as much havoc on the environment as the Magic Kingdom."

Richard's eyebrows lifted. "Or will they elude paying property taxes like they've managed to do for so long?"

"Right. So we're going out there to look for some answers." Libby hopped up, dashed over to her cubicle, and grabbed her poncho. "The only way Tate would let me have this is if you worked with me, Rich. I swear, he is such a..."

Richard was arranging his notes into his attaché case. "Watch it, Lib."

"Oh, you know what I mean. I can't believe that, with all the strides we've made toward equality in the sexes, that most men see me as suitable only for writing about recipes and etiquette. Me, the queen of proper and feminine." She motioned down at her corduroy bellbottoms.

Richard slung his reporting gear over his shoulder. "You are always a woman to me, Lib," he grunted. "Are you driving?"

"Of course. I have to have the upper hand somewhere in this assignment."

The pair of journalists spent the day driving around Lake Buena Vista, the section of Central Florida where Disney had most of its property, and then sitting through a press conference. Richard got to ask if the new park, whose name would be an acronym, would be paying property taxes. Roy Disney skipped and danced around the question by discussing the theme of the new park, which would be technology and innovation. It would open sometime in 1982, he predicted. Richard and Libby scowled; that was not the answer they were hoping for. At the end, they piled into Libby's purple 1972 Ford Maverick and vented their frustration.

"He's very shrewd," Richard ventured.

Libby snorted. "He's downright devious. Did he answer any questions asked of him?"

Richard fumbled in his case for an eight-track. "No, but big corporation leaders never do. I think they all learned from Nixon." He slid "The Carpenters" into the player.

The pair were fairly quiet on the ride back to Orlando. I-4 was practically deserted, which was to be expected, since there wasn't much development out in that section of Central Florida.

When the pair entered the Sentinel offices, Gary was walking through their section of cubicles. "So, Williams, did she behave herself?"

Libby rolled her eyes at him. "Did you evolve any while we were gone, Mr. Tate?"

He guffawed loudly. "I'm just teasing you, Lib. How did the pc go?"

"Just as we expected. Disney is bent on chicanery and secret-keeping. We probably won't know the effects of this until the next century."

Gary stared at them while they spread out their notes. "Just have it to proofing by 10. That way it can be in tomorrow's edition." He puffed on his cigar and ambled away.

Libby and Richard spent the rest of the day writing their article. Between the two of them, on Richard's word processor, it only took two hours. They reworded some questions and answers, since the answers didn't match the queries very well. They also tried to be as unbiased as possible, which wasn't easy as they felt very strongly about the matter. But journalism required that they present the facts, and only allude to their displeasure. They were finished with their article by 7:30. The proofer read it over, declared it to be without errors, and gave it back to them to take to the copy room.

Walking back to their cubicles, Richard said, "Let's celebrate our luck! Can I take you out tonight?"

Libby grinned. "Yeah, we should go out to eat. I haven't been to Church Street in a while!" She paused as she remembered something. "Wait, I promised Jane we'd get dinner together tonight. Would you mind if she tagged along?"

"Are you kidding? Would I mind if two of the hottest chicks in Florida accompanied me to an eating establishment? No way, Lib."

Libby grinned. "I'll give her a call. And don't call us chicks, Richard."

She returned to her cubicle and dialed their apartment number. After three rings, Jane picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jane. It's me."

"Hey, sis, what's going down?"

"Richard Williams asked if we wanted to go out to eat. I told him we already had plans, and he asked if we three could go out together."

"Far out, Lib! Richard is dreamy. Are you coming home first?"

Libby sniffed her underarms. "Absolutely. I need to grab a quick shower. Can you lay out one of my new dresses?"

"The green velour one? Yeah, it's clean. Come right home."

Libby said goodbye and hung up. She grabbed her poncho and purse and set out. "Hey Richard, we're all set. Where and when should we meet you?"

"Do you mind eating at Rosie O'Grady's? They have good entertainment."

"Yeah, we like the sandwiches there. How about 8:45?"

They agreed that they would meet outside the bar, and set off on their separate ways to get ready.

Libby arrived home to find a wet-haired Jane. "I laid out your dress. I'm thinking of wearing the cream dress with the fairy sleeves. What do you think of that?"

"I think you're a hot mama." Libby kissed Jane on the cheek and headed for the bathroom, shedding clothes as she went. "Aw, she's a brick, HOUSE!"

"Isn't that song about an Amazon woman, Libs?" Jane called as Libby started to run the water.

"Yeah, but Wonder Woman's an Amazon. Guys drool over her!"

Jane raised her voice to talk over the water. "No guys have been drooling over me lately, that's for sure." She took the towel off her head and started combing out her shoulder-length blonde locks.

Libby rinsed soap from her face and laughed. "That's malarkey, Jane, and you know it. You just haven't been willing to take a chance on any man ever since..."

The sound of the hair dryer shut her up. Libby suspected Jane had turned it on at that particular moment because she didn't want to talk about it. Was sick of talking about it, Jane had said. Her senior year of college, Jane had been head over heels in love with a guy. She thought he loved her too, until he had moved away very suddenly and didn't call or write her. Two years ago, on her birthday, Jane had managed to get a hold of him. He told her he had always loved her and wanted to start up a relationship again, which made her raw, wounded heart open up to loving him again, only to be hurt worse when he didn't call or write her any more after that. The saddest thing Libby had ever seen was her sweet, trusting sister tearfully penning a letter to that sleazebag, confessing that she would always love him, but she knew he didn't love her. Ever since then, it was as if a part of Jane, the part that had been loving and confident, had died. She felt nothing for guys that she met, and she had a slight cynical streak in her. Libby noticed the marked change in her, and had to shake her head to get over the image in her head of herself, punching Geoff Wickham in the stomach.

Shower finished, Libby blew her hair dry at the sink, where Jane had purposely left the dryer out for her. When it was nearly dry, Libby flipped her head over, using a large paddle brush to sweep away from her head while blowing hot air on her hair. Once it was dry, she turned right side up and deftly used the brush and dryer to flip the sides back, creating wings that almost met at the back of her head. After spraying that so that her fine, brown hair didn't become flat during the evening, she applied dark blue eyeliner all around the eyes and then coated her lids with sparkly blue eye shadow. The rest of her face she left natural.

She quickly dressed and moved her few meager belongings from her daytime purse to the one which was a little dressier and would be easier to carry inside. In her bedroom, Jane was putting on her final touch: strappy tan platform shoes.

All dolled up, the girls walked out to the car and climbed in. "So, what's the deal with Richard?" Jane asked as they pulled away.

"Oh, nothing. He's a little too old for me."

"Get out of here! I think if he asked you right, you'd be more than happy to go out with him." Jane smirked as she applied some lip gloss.

Libby bobbed her head. "Well, he does have that Tom Selleck moustache thing going on. And that thick blonde hair. He's cute, but there's just some kind of creepiness about dating a guy nine years older than me." She glanced over at her sister, who looked like a younger version of Farrah Fawcett. "Do you think it's creepy to date a guy who is, say, eleven years older than you?"

"Hey! Jane giggled and pushed her sister's arm. "I think it's OK to have a crush on a guy that much older, but not to date him. What would Mom and Dad say?"

Libby motioned out the window that she was turning left and then replied, "I know what Mom would say. She'd say you need to settle down and have babies, and as long as it's a guy with a good job who can provide for his family, it doesn't matter if he's 55."

"Oh, yeah. Marry at all costs. Don't become an old maid, like your sister Libby."

Libby pulled the car into a parking space and reached down for her purse. "That's right, I'm past my age of ripeness. You'd better find a man to hook before you turn 24 and are no longer eligible."

The girls took one last look in the windows of the Maverick before sashaying towards the bar, Rosie O'Grady's. They went inside just before seeing the long white Cadillac Fleetwood pull up in the lot, taking up two spaces next to Libby's Maverick.

---

Chapter 2

The long legs seemed to go on forever as they got out of the car. Knowing that the handsome driver was watching, Carol relished the knowledge that she was turning him on. The legs were topped off with a glittery, gold- lamé short skirt (that would be more correctly labeled as a belt) and an orange-and-brown striped halter-top. As she stood up, Carol placed a hand on her hip and looked around, holding her long neck as high as it would stretch. She sneered as she observed the old-fashioned décor and cars that obviously didn't cost half as much as the one she had arrived in. "This is the only nightlife in Orlando?" she scoffed.

"Carol! Come on, move! We need to get out, too." Louise said from the backseat.

As Carol moved aside, her brother, Chuck, grinned. "It's just like the concierge said-it's like an old-fashioned saloon!"

"And this is our only option. Really. I vote we go back to the hotel and play cards or something." On drawing out the word something, Carol looked sideways in what she thought was a sexy manner at Keith.

Keith, who owned the sleek Cadillac, shook his head as he began to strut toward the historic building, a walk that he had seen John Travolta do in "Saturday Night Fever".

Chuck tried to hook his arm through his younger sister's. "Come on, Carol. It'll be dy-no-mite! Loosen up for once. Don't be so uptight; we're here to have fun!"

Louise and her boyfriend, Guido, stumbled along after them. Louise's shoes were too high and her skirt was too short to make walking manageable. Guido had already had some malt liquors and didn't care where they went as long as he could use the bathroom soon.

Upon entering the restored saloon, the party felt as if they had been transported back in time, except that their time machine had made some dreadful anachronistic mistakes. For one thing, the band or whoever played music was on a break, and "You Make Me Feel Like Dancing" was blaring throughout the room. Although the waitresses were dressed as saloon girls, with their satin maid-dresses with lots of fluffy petticoats, fish-net stockings, and feathered headdresses, a couple of them had long, straight hair, parted in the middle. And the patrons, of course, were all dressed in modern outfits: tight jeans, gabardine pants, short skirts, polyester shirts with lots of chest hair showing. It was a strange mixture of old debauchery and new.

Carol stalked over to an empty table in the corner and sat down. As the rest of the group joined her, a waiter, with long black pants, a white button-down shirt and garters on the sleeves, and oiled hair sidled up next to them. He expertly tossed napkins down as coasters and asked, "What'll it be, ladies and gents?"

Carol answered first. "Champearmint, please."

The waiter looked baffled. "I beg your pardon? I've never heard of that one."

"What? It's the house specialty of the Mark Hotel in Manhattan! I know it has champagne, and a pear slice..."

Keith leaned over to the waiter and listed the ingredients. "I'll just take a glass of cognac."

The others listed their drink orders (Chuck was the only one not drinking alcohol) and then sat back to observe the atmosphere. The bar was almost full to capacity, most of the people standing around the bar area and talking, and the ones that were sitting down were drinking quite a bit. As the waiter returned with their drinks, the musicians returned to the stage. There were some old-timey instruments, and a buxom woman in a bustier and feather boa. She started to sing a song called "You Got To See Mamma" and Keith thought Carol would spit her drink all over them, so he stood up and walked to the other side of the room, where he could lean against a small bar.

Directly in his line of vision were two young ladies, perhaps in their early twenties, sitting with a guy who couldn't be younger than 30. The girls were really hot, he thought; the blonde looked like she could be on "Charlie's Angels", and the girl with the light brown hair had a sparkle in her eyes, and such a pretty, laughing face that he almost wanted to talk to her. But he thought she must be with the mustached guy in the olive-green butterfly collar shirt, and he kept his distance.

Just then, the singing woman switched to a Barry Manilow song, one about boogie-woogie beats, and she was walking through the audience. This was too much to bear for Keith, and he quickly turned and focused on the bar.

"Hey, Darcy! What are you doing over here?" Chuck had a cherry coke in his hand and was bobbing his head to the music. "Can you believe she covered this?"

Keith grimaced. "No, I can not. This is abominable from Barry Manilow, and not to be endured by the fat woman."

Chuck laughed. "You're jivin' me, man! You honestly don't like this?" He nodded at the table where Libby, Jane, and Richard sat. "Those babes are totally groovy. Do you think that turkey's either of them's squeeze?"

"Ugh, Chuck. Your slang is so bad. Are you asking if that guy is dating either of those girls?"

"You got it, my man."

Keith winced. "How would I know? Why don't you go ask?"

"Come with me, man. I got a solid new line I'm dyin' to try out!"

"Oh, this I've got to see. Are there any you haven't tried?"

"Duh, spazoid. Check out the master."

Chuck strutted over to the table, much like Keith had walked earlier in the evening. When he reached their chairs, he put a hand on the backs of Libby and Jane's, causing them to turn around. "Excuse, me, ladies. I found a pair of wings over here, and I knew they must belong to one of you angels."

Jane started laughing really hard, and Libby looked as if she didn't know whether to laugh or lecture. Richard, however, stood up to his full height of 6'2" and looked down at Chuck. "Can I help you, man?"

Chuck stammered, "It's cool, man. I'm just wondering if either of these foxy ladies is taken. We're from out of town, and I just wanted a little conversation..." his speech faltered under the glare of Richard's countenance.

Jane spoke up. "It's cool, Rich. We can have a chat." She smiled up at Chuck, who looked as if he would melt. "Cop a squat, man. Where are y'all from?"

Keith, who remained standing, chuckled. "Y'all. Hmph."

Chuck beamed and replied, "The big city of New York. We're down here for a convention and thought we'd check out some nightlife."

Libby grinned. "That's outta sight. We've never been to New York City. What's it like?"

"Well, there's a lot to do at night. This seems to be the only thing here to do." He motioned around the bar.

"Well, yeah. It's pretty slow. But this area's growing pretty fast. In fact, a lot of bars are springing up all over. And I heard we're going to have a disco pretty soon." Jane smiled shyly. "I love disco music. I bet you get to go disco-dancing all the time up there."

"We do! Well, I love to boogy, but Keith here usually sits them out. Oh, yeah, girls," he changed his posture to introduce them, "This is Keith Darcy. I'm Chuck Bingley. Over there are my sisters, Carol and Louise, and Louise's boyfriend, Guido."

"I'm Jane, and this is Libby, my sister. That's Richard, our friend and protector." The men shook hands.

The music switched to a faster beat, and many people started to dance. "Hey, Jane, want to get down?" She offered her hand, and he spun her onto the dance floor. Keith was left standing awkwardly.

"So, Keith, you don't dance too much?" Libby asked, pouring beer from the pitcher into her glass.

Keith sat down slowly. "No, I find I'd rather watch. I get a lot of amusement from it." He gazed at a man who was flapping his arms like a bird.

Richard chuckled. "Yeah, sometimes I wonder if I look like these idiots. I'm no Travolta, that's for sure!"

Keith smirked. "Besides, there are too many dogs and stellas who want to dance with me. It's just a waste of time."

Libby turned her feminist face on him, and Richard groaned inwardly. He knew that look, and he knew that this Keith guy was going to eat his words. "So, what, a woman is only worthwhile to dance with if she's attractive? Are you really that shallow?"

Keith's brow furrowed. "No, I..."

"So these hideous women, do they fall all over themselves trying to get you to dance? I'm sure you're plagued with thousands of screaming fans up in New York City."

He started to look angry. "That's not what I meant! I just think, if a woman wants to dance, she should, uh, er, wait for a man to ask her."

Libby spluttered. "What prehistoric dating guide have you been reading? If a lady wants to ask a man to dance, why shouldn't she? There's no reason a woman can't be just as aggressive as a man. And she shouldn't be judged for it, either. Don't you think people should be equal?"

He looked completely befuddled. "Look, I don't know. I guess women are equal. I don't do a lot of thinking about it." Libby started to respond, and he said, "Hey, Man, I won't interrupt your date anymore. It was nice to meet you. Send Chuck over when he's done." Keith slinked away in shame.

Richard raised his glass. "Way to go, spitfire! You've driven another man away."

Libby hmphed to let him know she didn't care. "When he's that big of a loser, I don't mind driving them away. Who wants to date a guy who is so totally out of touch?"

---

Chapter 3

Libby woke late the next morning, the sun glaring into her eyes. She tried to pull the covers back over her head and go back to sleep, but it was no use. She was awake, and her head was throbbing. She got up to find some aspirin.

Jane was in the kitchen, making herself bacon and eggs. "Morning, sleepyhead!"

"Why are you up so early?" Libby grumbled as she shuffled toward the refrigerator.

"Clean living, Lib. I didn't drink last night, and so I got a good night's sleep and woke up on this glorious Saturday morning refreshed and alive."

Libby turned around and stared at Jane, open-mouthed. "Oh my gosh, are you this chipper because of that guy at the bar last night?"

Jane actually blushed and waved her hand. "No. Well, maybe. He was cute, wasn't he? He's supposed to call sometime today."

Libby grabbed a box of cereal and sat at the small table. "Then get out of here! Don't be sitting by the phone when he calls."

"Of course I'm not sitting by the phone. But if I happen to be here when he calls, then yay for me! I can't wait to see him again."

Libby munched on the dry cereal. "What's he like? What does he do?"

Jane's brow furrowed. "I know they're salesmen of some sort. I think they're the heads of their division, or something like that. They're trying to get something or other set up here, and they're doing a convention."

"And after that, they'll be back to New York City? Oh, Jane, be careful!"

Jane smiled, a smile that said she knew a joke. "Of course I'm careful. I'm a modern woman; I'm on the pill!"

Libby threw a sugar crisp at her sister. "Not that kind of careful! Don't put up with any crap, and don't let him run away with your heart!"

"No way, sister. Not after last time. I am reformed. He's going to squirm, and beg to move here to be closer to me when I'm done with him."

Libby took her aspirin with a gulp of water and went back to her room. Saturdays were the nicest day of the week, she thought. The only thing she absolutely had to do today was laundry. She started sorting her clothes and made a mental note to ask Jane if she had any delicates they could wash together.

The phone rang. It rang a second time, a move Libby knew Jane did purposely. She heard Jane's muffled but delighted voice through the wall. After a few minutes, Jane appeared in the doorway.

"Libby, guess what?"

She licked her lips and thought for a second. "Mom and Dad said we're really adopted?"

"No, even better. I'm going for a bicycle ride with Chuck."

"Very nice, sis. Where and when are you going?"

"In about an hour. He's going to pick me up, and we can ride from here. I'm going to give him a tour of College Park." She looked at the mounds of laundry. "Can you throw my delicates in with yours? It seems like a waste of water to do them separately."

"You read my mind, sister dear. I was just going to ask."

Jane got ready for her date, and Libby hauled two baskets of laundry out to her car. She usually did her laundry at her parents' house, since their apartment didn't have a washer or dryer. She would sit and talk to her mother, or play a game with her father. Visiting her family like this, once a week, kept her grounded in reality.

When she walked in the front door, she was greeted by her parents' dachshund, Missy. Missy was a yelping, short-haired red dachshund. Very cute, but also annoying. She didn't do doggy things; she liked only to be held and petted.

Her little sister, Mary, came into the living room. "Hey, Libby. How was your week?"

"Just fine and dandy, Mary. How was yours?"

"I won the essay contest at school. I had to write about a woman I admire, and I picked Gloria Steinem. Most other girls wrote about their mothers or dead women."

Libby smiled. "Talent runs in the family! Where is everyone?"

"Mom and Lydia are down at the church, selling baked goods for the youth mission trip. Dad is in his favorite room, as usual."

"Here, give me a hand with this laundry, will you?" Libby had always felt close to her sister. Mary was seventeen now, and about to graduate from Edgewater High School. She was also the brainiest of the girls, which Libby admired and applauded. They loaded the clothes into the washer, measured out soap powder, and chatted about school. Mary had always looked up to her big sister's independence.

After they had visited a while, the girls went into Mr. Bennet's favorite room, his den. He was reclined in his La-Z-Boy, watching golf on T.V. "Hey Dad!" she exclaimed, walking into the room. "Intellectually enriching yourself?"

Mr. Bennet chuckled. "Yeah, you'd be surprised how stimulating golf commentary can be," he said dryly. She kissed him on top of his balding head. "How are things at the paper?"

She sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs. "Yesterday, they let me cover the new Disney story. It should be in today's edition." She hadn't looked at her copy at home, and grabbed their newspaper out of the magazine rack. There was the story, on the third page of the local section! She almost jumped for joy.

"I had to work on it with another reporter, but they put both of our names in the byline! Isn't that exciting?"

"Let me see that," requested Mr. Bennet. He scanned the article. "So Roy Disney's planning on expanding, eh? Hmm." He read down to the end, then put the paper down. "This is good journalism, Libby. I'm very proud of you." Then Mary demanded to see it, and declared that her own award was nothing compared to getting published.

When Mrs. Bennet and Lydia came home two hours later, they found the three sitting around the card table, playing Monopoly and laughing heartily.

"Here's my oldest girl," Mrs. Bennet cooed, as if introducing her to a visitor. She walked over and kissed Libby on top of the head. In her print dress and perfectly coiffed hair, Mrs. Bennet looked like a '50s housewife.

"Mrs. Bennet, you should be very proud of this one. She just had a real, meaningful article published in our local paper." Mr. Bennet beamed at his lovely Libby.

They showed the article to Mrs. Bennet, who only said, "Wow, Disney's to open another park. That's nice." Then to Libby, "Who is Richard Williams? Is he eligible?"

Libby and Mary grinned at each other. "Rich is just a guy I work with, Mom," Libby explained patiently.

"So there's no interest there?"

"Um, well, he's 34. He's been in Vietnam. We don't quite click that way." Libby knew these were lame reasons, but she couldn't put her finger on just why she wasn't interested in Richard. He was good-looking, that was true, but she felt comfortable with his friendship.

Mrs. Bennet looked condescendingly at her. "Well, maybe you're just not trying hard enough! You aren't getting any younger, dear."

Libby was used to her mother's stinging remarks, but now she felt attacked. "I know, Mom," she said, annoyed.

"Steven, just listen to how she speaks to me. She's grown and out of the house, but she still speaks to me with that tone," Mrs. Bennet whined to her husband.

"Libby, watch how you speak to your mother," he said in a warning tone, but with a twinkle in his eye.

Libby could have growled. She was a liberated woman, with her own apartment, and yet her mother could still get under her skin. Maybe it was her old-fashioned ways, and how she expected Libby to be just like the daughter on Donna Reed. Luckily, Mary grabbed her hand and pulled her towards her bedroom.

Mary and Lydia used to share a room, but since Jane and Libby had moved out, they each had their own bedroom. The walls of Mary's room were decorated with pictures of Fleetwood Mac, James Taylor, and movie posters. Mary flopped stomach down on her bed and looked up at Libby. "Don't let Mom get you down. You aren't old."

Libby laughed and plopped herself into Mary's hot pink beanbag chair. "I know. I just wish my parents would recognize that I'm a complete person without a man. I don't live my life looking for love. I mean, it would be nice, but I haven't found Mr. Right, and I don't think it's good to push it."

Lydia came in a few minutes later. She put Shaun Cassidy on the record player. She began dancing and singing to "Da Doo Ron Ron". Libby and Mary groaned. "Ugh, Lydia, why couldn't you have picked something different?" Libby moaned, tossing a fuzzy purple pillow at her shaking butt.

"Shaun Cassidy is so dreamy!" exclaimed Lydia, flopping down next to Mary.

"Ugh, that hair! I think this obsession is unhealthy." Mary didn't approve of bubble gum pop music.

"So where is Jane today?" asked Lydia.

Libby snickered. "She's bike-riding with a guy we met last night. He was so spastic." She began to relate the story of the pick-up line, getting tears in her eyes from laughing. "They danced a bit. Then later he came and talked to us, and he was really sweet. His sister came over to talk to us, and she's a witch."

"Really? Why?"

"Oh, she thinks she's the big cheese because she lives in New York City and goes to Studio 54. I think she looks like she's on heroin."

Lydia clutched a stuffed dog and rolled onto her back, feet in the air. "David Bowie looks like he's on heroin, but he's still hot."

"Anyway, Jane went bike riding with him today and she's on cloud nine. I really hope this guy is nice to her."

"Doesn't he live in New York City?" asked the astute Mary.

"Yeah, and I hope that he doesn't jerk Jane around." Libby looked at her sisters. "Listen, I need to go. It was good to hang out with you. Will I see you next week?"

"We'll be here," said Mary.

"No, I have a rehearsal for church," responded Lydia.

"Wow, you're really getting into church," observed Libby. Lydia assured her that it was fun, and she was getting close to God.

Libby loaded her dried laundry into her trunk and drove home. It was only four miles to her parents' house, but she always felt like she was in another place when she was with them.

---

Chapter 4

When Libby arrived home, she found Jane and Chuck in the living room, comfortably sitting on the couch and overstuffed chair across from each other, chatting and giggling. Jane was relating a story about their childhood to him.

"And when Libby saw me painting the toilet seat with her nail polish, she ran straight to Mom and Dad. I got a spanking for using up all the polish without asking!"

Chuck was laughing hard. "Why would you do that?"

Jane wiped tears from her eyes. "I wanted the toilet seat to look pretty!"

Libby grinned at the remembrance. She had walked in on Jane in the tiny bathroom they shared, to see her crouching on the floor, meticulously painting the seat with the miniscule brush. She screamed and ran for her father's den...

Libby quickly dumped Jane's delicates onto her bed, and hurried back out to sit with the couple.

When she walked in, Jane and Charles looked up at her happily. "Hey you," greeted Jane. "Chuck has some good news!"

He grinned from ear to ear. "I have been chosen to head up this section of the country, and I'm renting a house until there's a more stable base here," he announced.

"That's great! When will you be staying until?"

"Well, who knows? It takes a while to establish a clientele. But it means I'll be able to hang out with you more. Darcy's really excited! But my sisters don't find it so amusing. They miss New York, but they want to stay with us."

Libby bobbed her head. "So, Chuck, what is it exactly that you do?"

"I'm a diamond distributor for AmWay." At her puzzled expression, he continued. "We sell household products and cosmetics, and try to get others interested in selling along with us. In fact, it's a great opportunity for you two to earn some extra money." He continued with a spiel that sounded rehearsed.

Just as he was going over rewards for selling, the doorbell rang. Libby ran to open it, since Jane looked enthralled. "Carly!" Libby exclaimed, reaching out to hug her friend.

Carly was tall, with long blonde frizzy hair and a gap between her two front teeth. "Hey, Libs, how's it going? I saw you pull up a few minutes ago, and I thought I'd run over."

"Well, you're very welcome. Jane has a new love interest."

"No! Is it serious?"

"Well, they only met last night, but I'm detecting serious sparks. Come in and see for yourself." They made their way back to the living room, which was in the rear of the tiny house.

Charles had taken a seat next to Jane by this time. "Yeah, it's a great way to earn money in your spare time. As a teacher, you probably don't have time to get a part-time job. This way, you could work out of your home and reap the benefits." He waved his hand through the air, palm up, in a studied gesture.

Libby cleared her throat. "Hey, Chuck, this is our neighbor and local wild woman, Carly Lucas." Chuck did a half-standing movement so he could shake her hand.

"Cool!" he blurted. "I'll be moving into the area soon, and I already have friends."

Libby doubted that he had a lot of trouble making friends. "Where are you thinking of renting?"

"Well, we haven't had a chance to look around. Winter Park seems nice. And this area, College Park, is great! Everything you need is on that street, what do you call it again..."

"Edgewater Drive," interjected Jane.

Carly smiled at him. "My dad's got some rental properties. I bet he could hook you up." They discussed good areas to rent in, and Carly gave him some tips, as well as her father's phone number. "He says this is the business to be in, since the area's growing so fast."

Soon after that, Chuck had to leave. The two girls walked Jane and him to the front door, and watched them take their leave of each other without kissing. Carly spoke first. "I love the combination of his jogging shorts, tube socks, and that headband," she observed.

"That's the style nowadays," murmured Libby. "Besides, it just serves to make him even cuter. Did you see Jane's face? She's got it bad."

"Well, she deserves to have it bad. She's one of the nicest people I've ever met."

"What are you doing tonight?"

"That's why I came over. Do you want to go to the mall with me?"

Libby thought for a second, her eyes looking to the left and down. "I don't think I have anything else to do tonight. Yeah, we can go."

"Groovy. I need some new pants. I feel like all these pant legs are too narrow."

The ladies drove to the Altamonte Mall a few hours later. Libby helped Carly pick out a few different pairs of bellbottom pants: beige, brown, and olive green, since Carly liked basic colors. Libby tried to get her into a pair of flowery ones, saying that all the kids were wearing them, but Carly only laughed. "Can you imagine what they'd say at work if I showed up in those?" Carly was a paralegal, and expected to look very subdued and professional.

They went to Farrell's Ice Cream Parlour to have burgers for dinner. "What are these friends of Chuck's like?" Carly asked, once they had ordered and handed the newsprint menus back to the waiter.

"Woman, I don't think you want to know! Pretty snobby if you ask me. Jane doesn't see it."

"She never does."

"I know. Well, Chuck is eager and obliging, but his two sisters couldn't be more different from him. The older one is dating this fat Italian slob, and the younger one is trampy and skinny. She looks like she's on heroin." The waiter brought them their drinks, and Libby paused as she took a sip. "Also, his business partner is a male chauvinist pig. He tried to get into it with me, but I gave him a good dose of my feminist manifesto."

Carly groaned. "You didn't, Libby! What happened?"

Libby grinned. "He was going on and on about how ugly women are the only ones who want to dance with him, and I merely explained how women can be worthwhile even if they're not physically attractive. Then he fed me some dinosaur line about women waiting for men to ask them to dance. I pointed out that women are equal, and should be able to ask men if they want!"

"Absolutely. What did he say to that?"

"He tucked his tail between his legs and walked away. What could he say?"

"He sounds weak if he didn't have any good arguments to come back with." They had to sit quietly while the staff brought out a huge ice cream dish to the people next to them. Since it was a birthday, the wait staff blared a siren, banged a bass drum, and shook noisemakers before they sang the birthday boy, an eight-year-old with collar-length hair, a rousing birthday song. When it was finished, Libby started again.

"Yeah, I think this Keith guy is pretty lame. When we talked to them later, he kept glaring at me."

Charlotte nodded and sipped the straw. "Couldn't think of anything to say to you, I imagine." She stretched her arms up over her head. "Are you going to church tomorrow with your family?"

"Yeah, Mary and Lydia are performing with the youth choir. I promised them I'd come. Besides, Jane needs someone to sit next to."

"Cool. I think I'll go, too."

When they went back to Libby's and Jane's apartment, they got out the nail care box and the facial masks. They spent the rest of the evening having "girls' night," playing records, then watching "Saturday Night Live" when that came on.

---

Chapter 5  

Libby had another relaxing day the next day. She spent the morning at church, where there was a new pastor preaching. Although he was only in his late thirties, he had a really bad comb-over hairstyle that Libby and Jane kept snickering about. Lydia had a solo in the youth song, and Jane grinned when she hit a high note she had been worried about. She also discovered that the family who sat next to them lived down the road from their apartment.

Mrs. Jones, a short, perky lady who was around thirty years old, held her daughter, Debbie, on her hip. "We just moved in about a month ago. Do you live in one of the duplexes?"

Jane replied, "The house we live in is divided into four apartments. We live in the downstairs one, on the left. Have you noticed the coral colored house?"

"Okay, I know which one you mean! That's nice that you're so close. Are you interested in babysitting anytime?"

Jane, who was already playing with Debbie's finger, smiled. "I do some babysitting, although not as much as I did in college. Do you just have one daughter?"

"No, I also have a six-year-old. Christy, come over here!" A thin girl with short brown hair and a ruffled red dress walked shyly over. "Christy, this is Miss Jane and Miss Libby. Would you like it if they babysat you?"

Christy hugged her mother's waist, timidly peeking out at them with smiling eyes. Mrs. Jones said, "I'm sorry, she gets quiet around strangers. We can't get her to stop talking at home!"

Libby laughed. "That's how Lydia was, too."

"The girl who sang the solo today?"

"Yep, that's our Lydia."

Jane asked, "When would you like me to baby-sit?"

"Anytime. Tonight, if you're not busy. Mr. Jones and I would like to go out to have some peace and quiet!"

They agreed on a time that Jane would go over to their house. Libby decided she liked the new neighbors very much.

Libby went to work Monday morning feeling refreshed. She felt that she could even tackle recipes for the food section with vigor. However, Mr. Tate had other plans for her.

It seemed that the editors liked the article she had worked on with Richard. They decided that she should write about growth in Central Florida.

Libby was thrilled with the decision. She spent her day researching archival records of the Church Street Station area, which was the center of a lot of recreation expansion.

That evening, Jane was abuzz. School would end in a week, and Jane was being hired for next year. She had only taught as a substitute in this class for the past two months when the regular teacher had gone on maternity leave. She was one of three third-grade teachers, and the team seemed very strong. Libby was happy for Jane: she had a blossoming romance and good prospects for a new year.

Tuesday evening, Chuck called and invited her and Libby to his new rented house for dinner. He had taken the furnished house yesterday, he said, and spent all evening and most of the day getting settled. Since they had been staying in a hotel, there wasn't a lot to move in, and the owner had been too happy to have him and his friends move in right away.

The girls drove over and got there at 6:30. Jane wore culottes and a peasant shirt, while Libby opted for jeans and a tank top. When they rang the doorbell, they were greeted by a smiling Chuck.

"Hey, groovy ladies! Come on in; Keith and my sisters are out back." He shut the door behind them and led them to the backyard, his hand on the small of Jane's back. They passed through the kitchen, where Guido was rifling through the fridge.

"Yo, Bing, didn't ya get any beer at the store?" His heavy Brooklyn accent came from inside, while all they could see of him was his expansive backside, clad in a brown velour jogging suit.

"No, Guido. I got pop and milk, but I forgot about beer. Do you girls want any?" he inquired of them.

"I'd drink one if you got some," replied Libby.

"I'm fine with Sprite," said Jane. Chuck lent Guido the keys to his car and they continued out to the backyard.

The backyard of the house was rather large. It was fenced in, with two big live oak trees providing plenty of shade. Libby thought she noticed scraped-away bark on a limb, meaning that there had been a swing tied to that branch. The owner had kept the perimeter of the yard landscaped with azalea bushes. It was perfect for a family with children or a large dog, neither of which Chuck owned.

On lawn chairs, listening to a transistor radio, were Carol and Louise in hotpants and halter-tops. Keith was at the grill, wearing a tight white T-shirt and jeans, flipping burgers and chicken over the charcoal. Chuck re-introduced everyone. "Hey, Carol, Louise, you remember Jane and Libby. Keith, we met them at Rosie's the other night." Keith looked up and nodded at them.

"Jane! What a cute top. Come over and sit with us." Carol sat up with her back toward Libby while her sister sat down between them on the reclined lawn chair. Carol's shoulder blades stuck out like daggers at Libby. She looked at Chuck.

"So, have you had much luck making contacts so far?"

Chuck wiped sweat from his forehead. "Well, I haven't had much time, with moving in today and yesterday."

"Oh, of course. When is your conference?"

"Tomorrow through Friday, we have several sessions." He walked her over to the grill. "How are the burgers coming, Keith?"

"I think this batch is just about done. Grab the platter for me."

They checked a burger, noted that it was medium well, and transferred the ones on the grill to the platter. Libby asked him to make the next one a little rarer.

Keith looked at her for a moment. She was caught off guard by that. When she was about to look away, he said, "I like mine that way, too." Libby didn't know what to say to that other than, "Oh, do you?" He continued to keep glancing at her while he put new patties on the metal.

She decided to try a little normal conversation. "So, have you lived in New York all your life?"

He nodded. "Yes. My parents own a house in the Hamptons, though, and we always spent part of the summers there."

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

He stared at the grill, bobbing his head. "I have a younger sister we call Jo. She is going to be back at college this semester."

He certainly doesn't volunteer very much, thought Libby. Chuck saved her by saying, "How's Jo doing, man?"

"She's fine." Keith glanced at Libby, then closed his mouth. Libby rolled her eyes at how this conversation was going. She decided to take more initiative.

"So, how did you guys meet?"

Chuck plopped down on a lawn chair he had dragged over. "We both got into AmWay at the same time, and we kind of teamed up."

"I was a business major in college, and Chuck was communications. We sort of make a good team."

Chuck guffawed. "Sort of? We had the highest profits in our district last quarter, man," he took a swig of Coke. "We make the perfect team."

Chuck hopped up as he heard "Right Back Where We Started From" playing on the radio. He ran over to Jane and sat next to her, his hands folded in his lap, while he swayed back and forth, causing her to sway with him. Libby laughed at his cute flirting.

"He certainly is a flirt," she commented.

Keith sighed. "Yeah, he is very friendly." He paid attention to the chicken, which was getting black on one side.

Libby felt very uncomfortable standing next to him. "I'm gonna go... I'm going to sit with Jane," she feebly muttered. Keith made no reply.

Sheesh, what's his problem? Wondered Libby. The group on the lawn chairs laughed heartily at Chuck's cutesy motions. Libby noticed that Jane was watching him with an awed look in her eyes. Jane could be goofy at times, and she liked her men to have a good sense of humor. From the looks of it, thought Libby, this was a match made in heaven!

"Oh! Lib! You have to see this." Chuck hopped up and grabbed both her hand and Jane's hand. They ran together over to the fence, where Chuck pointed over to another backyard. There was a pond behind it.

"Last night, I was looking out there and I heard a strange croaking noise," he explained. "Could it be alligators?"

"Yeah, alligators live in a lot of lakes around here," responded Jane.

"Far out! Do you think they'll ever bother me?"

"Nah, they usually stay in their muck, unless they don't have enough to eat. Do you have a flashlight?"

"Yeah, I keep one in my glove compartment."

Libby grinned. "We can shine the flashlight over the water when it gets dark, and if its head is above water, we might be able to see its eyes."

Keith called them over, saying the burgers were done. They pranced back over to the picnic table, where there were buns and potato salad and plates spread out for them. As Libby reached for a bun, Keith held a hamburger up on the spatula. "Here, Libby, this is for you," he called out.

She looked up, surprised, since this was the first time he had voluntarily addressed her. "Thanks," she said, holding the plate. His eyes, as dark blue as the ocean seen from an airplane, caught hers. She almost dropped her specially-made hamburger in the dirt. A tingle went down her back. What the...? She thought.

Just as quickly as it had come, the feeling stopped and Keith put a piece of chicken on Carol's plate. Damn, she thought. That was intense! She scooped some potato salad onto her plate.

She and Jane shared a lawn chair with a folding table to put their food onto. The burger was good, she had to admit. It had just the right amount of spices in it.

As Guido handed her a Bud, she noticed Carol lurking around Keith, saucily forking potato salad into her mouth. Although she was initiating a lot of conversation, Libby caught that Carol was having as much trouble getting a response from him as she had. She would chatter about a movie, and he'd poke at the meat on the platter. Finally, satisfied that everyone in the party had what they needed, he took a piece of chicken, poured barbecue sauce on his plate to dip it in, and sat down across from Libby and Jane.

"Keith, what do you think of this area?" inquired Jane.

He swallowed a bite of chicken. "Well, it's very different from Manhattan. There aren't as many people."

"Yeah, it's still very small town here. It's a very safe place to live." Libby joined into the conversation.

"Don't get me wrong. I like the easy traffic and the lack of air pollution." He paused and dipped a bite of chicken in the sauce. "I like the anonymity of being in crowds, though, you know?"

Libby stared at him. She asked, "Are you sure you're an AmWay salesman?"

Keith seemed to be a naturally quiet person, because he didn't say much the rest of the evening besides "That's a good idea" and "I like Paul McCartney's group, 'Wings'." Libby thought he must look down on them for living in such a small town, since he had been to see "Wings" and many other groups in concert, while she and Jane rarely got to see live shows.

She knew they had seen these concerts, because once "Hello, It's Me" by Todd Rundgren came on the radio, and reminded Carol of the time she had run into him and he had no shirt on, Carol would not stop talking about them. She raved about how she had been backstage with Aerosmith, sat in the front row for Peter Frampton, and gotten to touch his hand. Although Libby liked all these artists, she had never been as privileged as they had. Tampa was the closest that any big names came, and since the last concert she had seen was in college when she saw Helen Reddy, she would hardly call herself a concert-goer on a regular basis. She responded to all these boasts of Carol's with listing albums she had.

Chuck seemed very impressed with the size of her collection. As he walked them out to Libby's Maverick, he discussed whether they thought the Beatles would ever get back together.

Libby did a trick she had learned in high school: she drove around the block, giving Jane time to say good-bye to Chuck without her sitting in the car watching them kiss. When she circled around and pulled up, she saw them stepping back from an embrace. She grinned as she watched Chuck's tall frame straightening back up, contrasting Jane's petite, thin figure.

They drove home, Jane unable to wipe the grin off of her face. She sang softly with the radio when it played "I'm in you," and Libby suspected that Jane's season of man-apprehension was over.

Getting ready for bed, Libby was setting her hair in big curlers when the phone rang. Wondering who could be calling at 10:00 at night, she padded to the phone. "Hello?"

There was a brief silence. She was about to say "Hello" again, ready to hang up if no one responded, when a voice spoke. "Hi, Libby?"

"That's me. Who is this?"

"Um, it's Keith. Is it too late to call?"

---

Chapter 6

Libby's jaw dropped. Keith, calling her? Then she remembered that he was still on the line. "Uh, no. It's Okay. What's up?"

Pause. "You seem to know a lot about music."

A call after normal proper calling-etiquette hours, and he wants to discuss music? "Well, I wouldn't call myself an expert, but I enjoy music. Why?" She was very suspicious.

"I, uh, don't have a lot of albums here. I want to buy some more." He posed no question, just presented her with this gem of factual information.

"Is that so?" There was a sort of noise at the other end that Libby took for a response. "Well, why don't you go buy some?" Honestly, this guy was dreadfully dull!

"Oh, uh, that's what I'm calling about. I wonder, do you know any good music stores around here?"

"Well, East West records is a good local business. I'm friends with a guy who works there; maybe he could help you out. Um, there's also a music store in the mall."

"Great." Pause. "Actually, I don't know..."

"Do you need directions?" She was losing patience.

"No. Um, I mean, you are from around here. Do you want to go with me?" he rushed the last sentence out.

Libby pulled the phone away from her ear, gave the receiver a baffled look, and then pulled it back to her head. "I'm pretty busy most evenings. When are you thinking of going?"

"Anytime you have free. Thursday and Friday we should be done by four o'clock."

She sighed. "Is Chuck thinking of going?"

Another dramatic pause. Libby couldn't wait to get off the phone. "I, he, we didn't talk about it. Look, do you not want to go?" he sounded injured.

"Hey, it's cool, man. I just got the vibe that you didn't think I was so great, and I thought maybe Chuck would want to hang out with Jane again. What kind of music do you want to get?"

"I like a lot of different things. Not disco, though."

She gave a half-laugh. "Yeah, disco is getting old. When will our culture get over this disco phase?"

He seemed to relax a little. "Who knows? Maybe the eighties will bring a different type of music."

She was struck with an idea. "Have you heard of punk rock?"

"Of course! I have friends from England who say it's the biggest craze over there. He says people over there actually dye their hair weird colors and wear leather and metal spikes."

"I've seen pictures!"

"I was thinking of visiting next summer, but that branch of the culture kind of frightens me."

She loosened up a bit, as well. "Frightens you? What, that they'll attack you?"

He joked, "No, that I'll be tempted to join them."

They found enough topics to discuss for the next ten minutes. Finally she said, "Look, I need to get up early tomorrow. Can you call me on Thursday and tell me when you're ready to go?"

"Sure. I'll ask Chuck if he wants to go."

"Okay. Tell him if he does, to call Jane and ask her."

They hung up the phone amiably and Libby stared at the receiver, astonished. Was she happy he had called? Were they going out on a date? How strange!

At work the next day, Richard poked his head into her cubicle to find her doing a really good impression of working. "How are the fascists?" he inquired.

"Who?" Libby looked up from a paragraph she had read three times.

"Disney. Have you looked into them at all this week?"

"Oh, no. I've been focusing on Church Street. Did you know they're thinking of opening a dance club?"

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, and we'll be able to boogie with the best of the big cities, then!" She pointed her finger in the air as she said this, in the manner of John Travolta on the poster of "Saturday Night Fever".

He chuckled at her motion, then leaned on the wall of her cubicle. "What do you have planned for this weekend?"

She thought briefly. "Nothin' much," she answered.

"I want to get a bunch of people together to go to the beach," he explained. "My cousin is in town, and I thought it would be fun to show him the ocean. He's from Oklahoma, and doesn't get to come here often."

Libby nodded. "That's cool. Can we invite more people?"

"Yeah. In fact, can you invite any people from your church?"

Libby raised an eyebrow. "Sure. Why?"

"Bill is going to be an intern at your church. He's going to work with the youth group."

"That's cool! I'll see if Mary and Lydia want to come." She smoothed her skirt. "Unless it would be weird for him to meet the teenage girls he's supposed to be working with in bathing suits for the first time."

"Nah, I'm sure he'd be fine. We can go to Cocoa Beach, walk along the pier, and maybe play some volleyball."

Libby asked, "Are you thinking, 'The more, the merrier'?"

He nodded and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Who are you thinking of?"

"Jane might want to ask Chuck."

"The dancing king we met at Rosie's last week? Are they talking?"

Libby scooted her chair towards him a bit. "Yeah! He rented a house in Winter Park. We actually went over for dinner last night."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Did you see the one guy again? The guy you beat down?"

Libby laughed and swatted at Richard. "Yes, he was there." She didn't want to tell him about the phone call last night.

"Was he scared of you?"

"I don't know. A little bit, maybe. They're a strange bunch."

He nodded. "Yeah, they were. Hey, talk to Jane and let me know about Saturday." He straightened up and walked to his own work area.

That evening, Libby went to her yoga class with Carly. While the yoga teacher prepared the music, Libby asked her, "What are you doing Saturday?"

Carly stretched her long legs out in front of her, grabbing her toes. "During the day? Nothing I can think of."

"Do you want to go to the beach?" Libby clasped her hands above her head and bent to the side, stretching out her oblique muscles.

"Which beach?"

"Cocoa Beach, I think. My friend from work wants people to go."

Carly pushed back a wisp of hair from her face. "Sure, I'd like to go to the beach. Who else is going?"

Libby arranged her yoga mats. "I'm not sure. Richard, and his cousin from Oklahoma. Maybe Jane, maybe Chuck and his crew. I'm going to ask Mary and Lydia, too." She explained about Bill's involvement with her church.

The yoga instructor began class, and Libby had to concentrate on downward-facing dog and cobra positions. During class, it occurred to her that Carly might be a good candidate for Richard. They were both tall, they both enjoy cerebral conversations, and neither one had had a dating prospect for a while. She nodded to herself. Yes, Richard would be great for Carly.

---

Chapter 7

Thursday at work was very hectic and frustrating. The people she contacted about expansion at Church Street either told her they would call her back, or had their secretary tell her they would call her back, and none called her back. The letter "e" on her typewriter's daisy wheel jammed, so that she couldn't type anything up sensibly. To top it off, Gary was grouchy, and hinted that her inability to contact anyone was ineptitude.

Libby was so frustrated she almost forgot about going to the music store with Keith. Almost.

She didn't leave work until after six o'clock, and there was an accident on the road she took home, so she didn't get home until six-thirty. She was ready to scream when she walked in the front door. Jane stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall.

"Libby, Keith Darcy has called twice. He wants you to call back." Her forehead was all wrinkled together. "Why?"

Libby tried to sound nonchalant. "He called the other night and wants to go to a music store to buy some albums, so I told him I'd go."

Jane looked incredulous. "The other night? Do you mean Tuesday night? I thought it was Mom on the phone, because when I walked by, you sounded annoyed! Why didn't you tell me?"

Libby remembered that Keith was supposed to ask Chuck to ask Jane if she wanted to go. That's why she hadn't told her. She walked toward her bedroom. "Didn't Chuck ask you to go?"

Jane stopped following her. "No. Was he supposed to?" She sounded hurt.

Libby cringed. "I don't know. Did Keith leave a number?"

Jane walked in and placed the slip of paper on her bed. "Here you go." She walked silently away. Libby thought to herself that the day couldn't get any worse! She dialed the number.

Keith's voice actually sounded cheerful when he answered. "Hello?"

"Hi, Keith?"

"Hello, Libby. Did you have a good day at work?"

She pulled it away from her head and gave the receiver a strange look. "It was alright. Do you still want to go shopping?"

"Sure, sure. Do you want me to come pick you up?"

"Okay. Yeah, I need to freshen up a little bit." She ran her fingers through her hair and encountered several tangles.

"Cool. Tell me how to get to your house."

She closed her eyes, laid back on her bed, and asked, "Did you ask Chuck if he wanted to go?"

There was a pause on the other line. "No. I forgot."

Libby tried to sound casual. "Oh, because I mentioned it to Jane..."

"I'm sorry. Did you really want them to go?"

Libby wrinkled her forehead. "I want him to go if he wants to get some music."

Keith sounded as if he were taking a big breath. "Okay, let me go ask him."

Libby started brushing her hair, waiting for him to return. Then there was a jiggling noise, indicating that he was back and picking up his receiver. "Um, yeah, he wants to go. I think he wants you to ask Jane."

"Okay, hold on, Keith. Why don't you put Chuck on, and I'll put Jane on, and they can talk it out for themselves?"

He paused and said, "Okay. That sounds all right. But wait, first, have you eaten anything?"

"No, I haven't."

"Well, plan on our taking you out to eat. I should apologize for this mix-up."

Libby nodded approvingly. "That would be nice. Let me go get Jane."

Thirty minutes later, Keith's long Cadillac was pulling in the driveway of their apartment, and Libby and Jane walked out. Libby wore overalls and a T-shirt, while Jane wore Gaucho pants with boots. Libby had pulled her tired hair into two low pigtails.

Chuck opened the back door for them. "Hey, pretty mamas! How was your day, Jane?" He kissed her on the cheek, letting her know that everything was fine between them.

Jane grinned, a happy grin. "Good, Chuck, how was yours?"

He trotted around to the other side and got into the passenger seat. "Good. We're really getting a lot out of these seminars."

They rode to the mall, Chuck chattering happily, while Jane and Libby took turns responding. Libby interrupted periodically to give Keith directions.

Walking into the record store, Libby knew that both couples couldn't stay together. Jane and Charles wanted to go look at disco records, while Keith and Libby wouldn't be caught dead near a BeeGee's album. They went, instead, to the Rock'n'Roll section. Libby suggested some Rolling Stones, which Keith agreed to, and picked out some Fleetwood Mac and Van Morrison himself.

The store played top forties music, and Crystal Gayle's voice began singing "Don't It Make My Brown Eyes Blue." Libby smiled. "This is a sweet song, I think," she remarked.

He grinned at her. "You like country?"

"Well, maybe not all country songs, but this is nice. Slow, and danceable."

He set the albums on the counter and looked her full in the face. "Does it make you want to dance, now?"

She smiled, but did not answer him. Instead she looked at some buttons that were on display next to the register. "Oh look, 'I found myself. See? I'm right here!'" She knew it was lame, but it was all she could do to divert the conversation.

He stared at her, and she felt her cheeks turning red. Suddenly, she turned toward him. "No, I don't want to dance in here. You wanted me to say, 'yes,' right? But since you expect me to say it, I won't do it. Though I have been known to kick up my heels in public places." She looked saucily at him, and then said, "Am I one of those ugly girls you would be so offended to dance with?"

He looked surprised. "Huh? No!"

She continued, "Or maybe you brought it up because you thought I should keep my mouth shut and wait for you to ask."

He set his albums down and looked her in her face, which was tilted upward in defiance, her jaw set. "Okay, I get it. You're making me eat my words. Would you let me apologize?"

Libby had not thought he would respond with an apology. She nodded slowly.

"You caught me off guard in the club. See, it's different in New York." His dark blue eyes looked off to the left, picturing in his memory. "When we go to the clubs in New York, they're very exclusive. You have to be somebody to get in. When we went to Rosie's, we walked right in, but in Manhattan, we'd walk past a long line of people waiting and get let in by the bouncers. I was treated differently. Here, it seems that everyone hangs out together, and it doesn't matter if they have money or not."

Libby nodded, her face deeply sympathetic. Then she responded with, "What does your being treated like a king have to do with your insulting women?"

"You didn't let me get to that! Do you know how those floozies flock around a guy they know has money?"

She hadn't thought of that. She fingered a poster of David Cassidy's smiling face. "So did you expect me and Jane to flock around you?"

He looked relieved. "Libby, when Chuck fed you that lame line, and your friend Richard looked as if he were about to knock our blocks off, I knew you were women who were not the type we could mess with. Your face looked as if you would smack him upside one side of the room and back down the other. And laugh at him the whole time."

Libby laughed and looked over at Chuck, who was entertaining Jane with a dance in which he shook his hips from side to side and shuffled his feet creatively. Jane was smiling and nodding at his antics. "He's so cute! Is he like this all the time?"

"Pretty much. He likes to entertain women a lot. Jane looks amused."

Libby watched for a second, then murmured, "He better be nice to her. She's been hurt before, you know."

"Yeah?" Keith watched Jane imitate Chuck's dance. "You'd never know it. Her face is so calm and sweet." He looked at Libby, and for a moment he seemed about to say something. But all that came out was, "Let's get them and see if they're ready to go."

The disco fan bought five disco albums, while Keith got six rock albums. As they walked out with their purchases, Keith asked, "Where would you like to eat?"

Jane shrugged, and Libby said, "I'm in the mood for a milkshake. Let's go to Steak-n-Shake!"

Jane squealed, "Ooh, that sounds good!"

Keith's eyes got big. "Steak-n-Shake? I was thinking more along the lines of Steak and Ale."

"Ha! Look at how we're dressed! I would feel a little out of place. Besides, we are all laid back right now. We shouldn't have to put on our best manners."

As they pulled into the parking lot, there were people there, showing off old cars in the lot. Keith sucked in his breath. "Look at that old Camaro!"

Jane looked a second too long in the direction Keith was pointing. If she had turned her head away a moment before she did, she would have missed the guy in the black leather jacket come out from behind a raised hood and chuckle with the other car admirers. But as it was, she saw him. She saw Geoff Wickham and knew he was back in town.

Libby had seen him, too.

In the restaurant, Jane and Chuck sat with their backs toward the parking lot window, and Libby and Keith had a good view. Libby kept staring out the window, and when Chuck blew his straw wrapper at her, hitting her in the chest, she snapped back to attention.

"What's so interesting out there, Lib?"

Jane's face held a warning. Libby responded, "Oh, just looking at the cars. It's funny how some people get so wrapped up in their vehicles." Of course, that spawned a whole discussion about fancy cars.

When they left, Geoff and the Camaro were gone. Jane still looked as if she wanted to get home as quickly as possible. They drove off in relative silence, only the eight-track singing "I'm Not In Love".

Halfway home, Chuck burst out, "Hey, we never looked for the alligators the other night! Do you want to come over tomorrow and do that?"


---

Chapter 8

After Libby slammed the car door and the boys drove off, Jane flashed her a worried look. "Lib, why is Geoff in town? Why did we have to see him?" She rubbed her temples.

Libby got her key out. "I don't know. I don't think he saw us, though."

Jane hmph'ed and followed Libby inside. "I hope not. Wait, I hope he did. I hope he saw us with Chuck and Keith. I hope he was jealous." She flung her purse on the coffee table.

Libby thought carefully about it for a minute. "Well, hopefully we won't see him again. And if you do, who cares?"

"Yeah. Who cares?" Jane flopped in the papasan chair and put her feet up next to her purse on the coffee table. "It's so funny. I thought I was over him. I didn't think I could feel so much when I saw him again."

"Do you think you still love him?"

Jane sighed, her eyes focused on the ceiling. "I don't think so. Most of what I felt was anger. He's just such a jerk!"

Libby nodded, and the phone rang. "I'll get it," she said, relieved to not have to think about Geoff anymore. "Hello?"

"Hi, Libby. It's your mother."

"Hello, Mom. What's going on?"

"Oh, the usual, honey. What are you and Jane up to this evening?"

"Well, we just got back from Steak and Shake."

"Steak and Shake! Why didn't you cook?" her mother voiced her disapproval shrilly.

Libby cleared her throat and shot Jane an amused smile. "We like Steak and Shake, Mom. We were out with some friends."

"Really? Were they male friends?"

"Um, I'll let Jane tell you," she giggled and dropped the receiver in Jane's lap. She skipped off to her bedroom, hearing Jane say, "It's not serious, Mom. His name is Chuck, and he's really nice."

The next morning, Jane glared at her over cereal. "That was pretty dirty last night, making me tell Mom about Chuck. Why didn't you tell her about Keith?"

Libby chuckled. "Yeah, right! Why would I tell her about Keith? I don't even like him! And he seems like he is just able to tolerate me!"

"Why would he call you and invite you to go shopping with him, AND take you out to dinner?"

"He's bored, he knows I like music a lot, and he felt like a heel for not communicating properly with Chuck."

Jane swallowed a mouthful of cereal, and shook her head. "I just don't think he'd bother if he wasn't smitten with you."

Libby looked at Jane, her eyebrows lifted in disbelief. "He's rich, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"He's from New York, right?"

"Yeah."

"I think he's looking for a fling."

Jane laughed out loud, pulling her knees up into her nightgown. "Looking for a fling? Why would he pick you to have a fling with? He knows you're a liberated woman." She hugged her knees. "Maybe he recognizes how special and wonderful you are."

"Darn tootin'!"

"No, really, Lib. If he wanted a fling, he'd choose some air headed bimbo. Or Carol."

Libby giggled, dribbled milk down her chin, and wiped it away. "Yeah, Carol seems as though she'd rush into his bedroom at a moment's notice." She looked up at the clock. "Oh no, I've got to go. Will you rinse this out for me?"

"Sure thing, beautiful." Both sisters went to work before eight o'clock, so they often rushed in the morning.

That day at work was slightly more productive. A man from Church Street called her back, and told her some helpful things about the expansion project. Gary did not imply that she was incompetent, but actually sounded as if he were thinking about apologizing for the previous day's remark when she told him about the phone call.

Richard told her the details of Saturday's beach outing. They were to meet at his house at 9:30, and bring any gear they wanted to take with them. He told her where they were thinking about going. She mentioned that Chuck and Keith's whole crew might go, and Richard said, "The more, the merrier!"

Because she was writing about local growth and events, the advertising department was now keeping her informed of local upcoming events. She scanned over the list of things to do in the upcoming weeks. One, which was happening next Saturday, made her smile, because she knew it would be something Chuck, Jane, and Keith would want to go to. The second thing that caught her eyes made her laugh out loud, because she knew it would be something that they would never dream of in a million years.

When she went home that evening, she was pleased to pull in right after Chuck did. He greeted her with, "I'm so glad you're home, Libby. Do you still want to come over to look at the alligators?"

"Sure! I haven't done this since I was little."

They went inside to find Jane already in shorts and a T-shirt. After Libby changed, they all got into Chuck's bug and drove to his house.

Walking inside, they found Guido, Louise, and Carol relaxing in the living room, watching a game show. They were laughing at a contestant who seemed clueless. The three of them joined them on the couch.

After a few minutes, Keith joined them in the living room. As there was no more room on the furniture, he was obliged to sit on the floor.

"Where have you been, man?" inquired Chuck.

Keith scowled at the television for a minute. "On the phone."

"With your family?"

Keith gave a nod. Libby wondered what could have happened back home to make him so moody.

After dinner, the sun was starting to set. They all went out on the back porch to wait for it to get dark.

Keith sat next to Libby on a lawn chair. "How was your day?" she asked.

"Not bad. I'm glad that next week is the last week of this seminar. I'll be glad to focus on paperwork and sales again."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really? I think I would rather do the seminars. Paperwork sounds boring.

"Yeah, but I feel like I'm behind. It's hard to move, you know? I feel disorganized." He shifted his weight. "I wish I had my own place."

She nodded at him. "Do you think you'll stay long enough here in Orlando to make that practical?"

He grinned at her. "Well, I don't know! It depends on how well the business is going."

She groaned. "Does that mean you want me to join?"

"No, you've got your job with the newspaper. You could do it part time, you know, though. I'd help you get started."

"No, thanks. I don't like trying to sell things."

He chuckled. "It's not about selling. It's about developing relationships."

Libby was saved by Chuck's shouting, "Hey, come over here!"

He was standing at the fence, looking out over the pond. He turned on his flashlight. Carol went back to the house and turned off the lights. As Chuck panned his beam of light over the surface of the water, they could hear a strange, hoarse croaking sound. They listened for a moment, discerning where it was coming from. Chuck found the origin of the sound. They saw two glittering circles at first, then they could tell that there was a log-like body behind the circles. Louise gasped, and Jane said, "There he is!" They all started speculating on how long they thought he was.

They discovered three more living back there. It was slightly disturbing, yet exciting, to think about.

After about fifteen minutes, they grew tired of it, and went inside. Guido suggested that they play a game, and Chuck groaned. "I hate board games," he whined. But Louise found "Monopoly," and they all sat around the dining room table and teamed up: Chuck and Keith, Libby and Jane, Guido and Louise. Carol pointed out, "I don't have a partner!"

"You can be on our team," offered Louise.

"No, that wouldn't make sense. Chuck, you don't want to play. I'll be Keith's partner."

"I need you, man," pleaded Keith.

Chuck looked from his sister to his best friend, not knowing what to do. "Can I just be the banker, and then I won't have to play?" he asked.

"That's great. You sit over there, and I'll take your place." She sidled in next to Keith. Her Manhattan accent was more prevalent than ever.

Libby had a good time playing the game. Even though Carol's ineptitude and flirting with Keith was annoying, it was slightly amusing, too. Carol wanted to buy everything they came into contact with, and Keith had to curb her impulses. Libby and Jane wound up going to jail twice. Guido and Louise soon controlled all the major properties, making everyone pay them rent, and finally they won. Libby thought to herself that Guido could be very convincing about making them pay rent. He might break her kneecaps if she refused.

After the game, Jane reminded them about the beach the next day. "Bring your swimsuits, and anything else you want for the beach," she reminded them. "And be sure to wear sun block; the sun can be pretty fierce when you're out in it all day!"

"I'm going to bring baby oil. That's the only way you can ensure that you'll get a lot of sun," said Carol.

"Carol, you'll fry your skin!" warned Libby.

"I don't burn," sniffed Carol. "I have olive tones in my skin that brown perfectly."

Libby bit her tongue to keep from laughing, and bid the crew good night. Keith and Chuck walked them outside.

"So, I get to see you in a bathing suit tomorrow, Miss Bennet?" Keith asked.

"Well, yeah. But you also get to see Carol, which is very exciting to you, I know," Libby joked.

"Believe me, it's nothing special. She sits around all day in bathing suits and hot pants," complained Keith. "And it's not that sexy. She's got no curves."

"You like curves, then?" inquired Libby.

He looked at her body for a moment too long, making Libby feel like she was being summed up. "I like your curves," he said sexily.

"Do you, now? Well, you're just going to have to wait until tomorrow to see them exposed."

He grinned and put his arms around her waist. "I can't wait," he said. He leaned in, a slight smile on his lips, his eyes starting to close.

"Keith! Chuck! 'The Rockford Files' is on!" Carol shrieked from the doorway. "Come on, you're missing a good part!"

Libby said, "You'd better go. She won't let us alone now that she's seen us."

Keith groaned at her. "Tomorrow, 9:15, your place," he said.

"I'll be there, scantily clad," she promised.

He beamed at her as he walked backward into the house.


---

Chapter 9

Libby looked in the full-length mirror and surveyed herself. For the beach outing, she was wearing a navy blue bikini, with cutoff shorts and a tank top over it. She certainly did have curves; the crease that traced a path from beneath her shoulder blades to her waist had grown more pronounced lately, making her hips seem fuller. She grimaced at her love handles, splurging out slightly from over the top of her shorts. She pulled the tank top down more to hide them.

She packed her bag with a beach towel and sunscreen, slid her feet into flip-flops, and shuffled out into the living room. Jane was already waiting on the couch, watching Saturday morning cartoons.

"Hey, beach bunny," she greeted Libby.

"Hey, bikini goddess," Libby returned. She could see the straps of Jane's pink bikini through her white T-shirt.

As they were still sleepy, they watched T.V. until the others showed up. Mary and Lydia were the first to arrive, excited as puppies at being invited to go to the beach. Lydia babbled about how excited she was to meet Jane's and Libby's hunks. Mary just grinned.

Right at 9:15, Keith's Cadillac pulled in front of the apartment. The girls all grabbed their bags and went out to meet them.

"Hey, strangers," Libby greeted them as they got out of the huge car.

"Wanna go to the beach?" asked Jane, grinning.

Chuck put one finger next to his temple as if he were thinking. "What a great idea! We were just thinking how we wanted to go to the beach," he joked back.

"Good lord, there are already nine of us!" noticed Carol.

"Ten," corrected Libby, as Carly walked up to them.

Chuck, Keith, Carol, Guido, and Louise rode in the Cadillac, while Jane, Libby, Carly, Mary, and Lydia squeezed into the Maverick. It was a short drive over to Richard's house. When they got there, Richard and another guy, who Libby thought must be Bill, were loading a cooler into the back of Richard's Volkswagen van.

When they all got out, Richard laughed at Libby. "You weren't kidding when you said you'd bring some friends! Who is everyone?"

Jane introduced all the unfamiliar faces to Richard, who in turn introduced his cousin, Bill, to the group. Bill was rather stocky, with small eyes, an upturned nose, and a friendly expression. He looked at Jane with a big grin. Chuck noticed this and walked over to her, putting his arm around her waist.

"So, who is going to ride where? We can take my car, since it's big," Keith offered.

"Yeah, and my van can hold about seven, so I think we can just take the two vehicles," replied Richard.

After some discussion, Chuck, Jane, Keith, Libby, and Carly were to ride in the Cadillac, while Richard, Bill, Mary, Lydia, Louise, Guido, and Carol were riding in the van. Carol looked as if she wanted to protest, but only called "shotgun!" as she looked coyly at Richard.

As they drove toward the beach, with the windows rolled down, they sang along with the radio:

When you walked into the room
There was voodoo in the vibes
I was captured by your style
But I could not catch your eye
Now I stand here helplessly
Hoping you'll get into me
I am so into you
I can't think of nothing else
I am so into you
I can't think of nothing else*

Singing, with the wind in her hair (that occasionally whipped annoyingly against her face), gave Libby a chance to think. Keith was very hard to figure out. He was cold and distant one minute, the next, flirty and attentive. She had wanted him to kiss her last night, but was also taken by surprise when he put his arms around her and leaned in. She looked at him while he drove, his arm muscles outlined by his tight T-shirt. He looked sideways at her when he sang the lyrics "I am so into you," noticed her looking at him, and smiled. He poked her thigh with his right index finger. She grabbed his finger and held it for a moment, noticing how the shiver she had felt at the cookout returned to her spine. Releasing his finger and looking at the piney scenery along the interstate, she thought how strange it was that they didn't know how long they would be staying. Glancing in the rearview mirror at Jane, she hoped it would be some time.

---

The two vehicles pulled into a public parking lot and parked side by side. Stretching her legs, she walked to the door of the van, as Mary hopped out. "Enjoy the ride?" she inquired.

"Um, sure," said Mary a little sarcastically. "That Carol's a piece of work." Carol had followed Richard around to the back of the van, continuing a discussion.

"How was Lydia?" Libby asked.

"She and the new intern are getting along famously," answered Mary. Indeed, they were still sitting in the van, discussing summer events for the church youth group. Libby was impressed; Lydia usually wouldn't talk to a guy unless he was extremely good-looking.

Libby and Jane carried the cooler between them, amidst protests from Keith and Chuck that it was too heavy. When everyone was situated, they had to cross a street and walk between two hotels to get to the beach. Libby and Jane tiptoed over the hot, gritty sand to find a place near the shoreline.

They were lucky to get such a big area to spread out their stuff in. Keith and Chuck put their towels next to Libby and Jane, and Libby tried to ensure that Carly set up camp next to Richard. Carol took the other side of him. Behind Richard, Bill laid his old towel next to the teenage girls, and Louise and Guido unfolded beach chairs that laid down flat behind Chuck.

"How did Richard get so lucky?" Libby muttered to Keith. He snickered at Libby's coworker, who didn't know who to talk to: Carol, who had on a string bikini that looked as if it were made of flesh-colored macramé, or Carly, who looked better in her floral one-piece than Libby imagined. Both ladies were tall and thin, but Carly had a figure like Cheryl Ladd, while Carol looked like a skeleton wearing skin and some yarn.

Libby flopped down on her blanket. "Spread some of that on my back, OK?" she asked Jane, who was applying lotion to her legs.

"Sure thing, sis," Jane replied cheerfully. She crawled over and squirted the coconut-scented lotion between her sister's shoulder blades.

"Will you do that to me next?" begged Chuck. Jane smiled at him and said, "Of course!" Libby shoved her face down into the blanket to keep from laughing; he just wanted Jane's hands all over him!

Meanwhile, Mary had pulled out a book while Lydia commandeered all of Bill's attention. She was suggesting a trip to the roller rink for the youth group, and he was nodding enthusiastically. "That's exactly the kind of youthful suggestion I want," he commented.

Mary snorted and turned the page.

"Hey, want to go for a walk?" asked Keith.

Libby looked around. "Now? We just got here. I want to lay out for a while."

"Laying here is boring! Come walk with me." He tugged on her arm. "I have a Frisbee we could toss around."

She pushed herself up on her elbows. "All right, but we have to come back in half an hour, OK? I want to vegetate as much as possible today!" She grabbed her shorts and pulled them up.

As they walked parallel to the water, Keith reached for her hand. Libby didn't pull away. "I love it here," he commented. "I love watching the kids playing, and listening to the waves and the seagulls..." he breathed in deeply. "And you look good. All is right with my world."

"You don't look so bad yourself," she replied, noticing his well-defined pectoral muscles and nicely- shaped back. His red swimming trunks fit his form perfectly. "So, how does a salesman get a body like yours?" She bit her lip as it came out. It was a stupid question.

He grinned. "I jog every morning. Sometimes I lift weights. I ran track in high school and college, you know."

"Really? I didn't know that."

"Yeah, hurdles and long jump. I miss training with other people." He gazed out over the ocean. "Do you play any sports?"

She followed his gaze. "Jane and I ride bikes a lot. I like a good game of volleyball every now and again. But mostly, I'm not very coordinated."

He looked into her eyes. "Really? I would have figured you for an athlete. The way you move is very ... graceful."

"Me? I'm the original klutz!"

"You don't seem klutzy to me."

She focused on an older couple who were enjoying the sun. "You just haven't seen me in the right circumstances. I am constantly tripping over things and knocking things over." As she said it, she wondered why she was being so self- deprecating.

"That's OK. It doesn't mean you're klutzy. You just have a lot of things on your mind all the time."

She grinned. "Yeah, it's my fast-paced lifestyle that keeps me distracted."

Without warning, Keith scooped her up in her arms and began carrying her into the waves. "Ready to get wet?"

She shrieked and kicked her feet. "If I go in, you're going in with me!"

"Oh, I see. Equality of the sexes means equality of getting soaked?"

"Absolutely!" she yelled as a wave came up and splashed her butt.

They continued out into the waves. He didn't let go of her, and she didn't try to get away. Whenever a wave came up, he held her a little higher. Libby glanced back at the shore. She couldn't see their party; the two of them must have walked too far down the beach. Finally, when he was chest-high in the surf, he released her legs. "Can you stand?"

She could reach it on her tiptoes, but she had to strain and tilt her head so that the water was under her chin. "Um, I think I'm a little shorter than you are." She treaded water.

"You're a good height." He still had his arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah, I'm pretty short. I'm taller than Jane, though," she remarked, aware that he was moving closer.

Keith stopped, and pushed around the water with his hands. "Chuck thinks Jane is the perfect height. Perfect everything," he added. "We discussed which of you is more perfect."

Libby laughed. "What did you decide?"

"That we're two different men with two different opinions. Chuck loves Jane's light hair and sweet personality, and I like your passion. And your curves," he grinned.

He stopped paddling with his hands and stepped over to kiss her, gazing deeply into her eyes. His hands went around her waist and pulled her closer as his lips brushed hers, softly at first, then harder. The waves threatened to sweep over Libby, so Keith lifted her up over the water. Libby was weak in the knees.

She pulled back. She thought of her theory the other day, how she thought that Keith was looking for a fling while he was there. Much as she liked kissing him, she didn't want to be that; didn't want their relationship to be just that.

"What's wrong?" inquired Keith, rubbing her shoulder.

"How long are you going to be here?" She looked him straight in the face. He cleared his throat.

"Well, I think we're going to be here through August, at least. And then, who knows? Chuck wants to stay past that. I might need to go back. My family kind of... needs me."

Libby started slowly swimming back toward shore, her head above water. "What's going on?"

Keith swam with her. "With my family, do you mean, or with us?"

She tilted her head. "I meant with your family, but both answers would be nice."

Keith sighed, and a wave, which was bigger at this depth, threatened to go up his nose. "My family is going through a rough time right now. Let's just say that, um, my sister is having some problems." His face looked as if dark clouds were passing overhead. "I really don't want to get into details. One of the reasons I agreed to come to Florida was that my being there didn't seem to help. I was getting really frustrated, because she wouldn't talk to me. Growing up, she always talked to me."

"How old is she?" Libby stepped over some seaweed that was being sucked back into the tide.

"She's nineteen. I don't know; I mean, she's old enough to work things out on her own, but I just wish she'd turn to her older brother, you know?"

Libby's heart about melted. He was so caring!

"Now, about us," he looked at her again, and his face lit up. "I think that's a little easier. I think you are a fascinating, smart, quick-witted, refreshing, groovy woman, and I want to get to know you better. The fact that you're pretty and funny are definite bonuses."

Libby beamed at him. "I am pretty funny, aren't I?

"You make me laugh. I like that. I haven't laughed too much in the past few months, so being around you is wonderful."

They were walking toward the rest of their party. "Keith, I'm just scared that, well, I'm a fling. Not that you're that type of guy," she added quickly. "I am just, I'm a little, well, humph. I'm getting too old to just have a fling, you know?"

Keith stopped walking and took her hand. "I'm too old for it, too. You're good for me, Libby. If all we have is this summer, then we have to make the most of it."

She nodded at him and started walking again. "You're right. The here and now is really all we have."

They approached their party. Carol's oiled body glinted blindingly in the sun. Chuck and Jane were playing a paddleball game, and the other girls lay in the sand. Libby noted happily that Richard was lying on his side, chatting cheerily with Carly.

Keith squatted by Carol and nudged her shoulder. "Carol, have you rolled over recently?"

"Wha--?" she looked up drowsily. There was a towel crease on her cheek.

"Carol, roll over. We don't want you to burn."

"Oh, yeah, right." She sat up and pushed herself over. There was a definite difference between the front and back half of her. She picked up her bottle of baby oil and began rubbing it onto the front of her thighs.

Libby walked to her towel, wincing at the image of Carol's horrible sunburn tonight. She applied some sunblock and lay down, putting her sunglasses over her eyes.

After hot dogs and sodas for lunch, the guys all went to join a game of volleyball. After a few games, Libby and Carly joined their team. Libby was good at keeping the ball from hitting the ground, but Carly was excellent at spiking the ball, scoring points for their team. Richard high-fived her and smiled admiringly at her.

Exhausted, the gang decided to leave around three-thirty. As they gathered up their belongings, Libby noticed that her sisters were not speaking anymore to Bill. They were keeping to themselves, pointing and giggling at some boys down the beach.

The songs on the radio on the way home all seemed to sing about her life. Keith held her hand between them on the front seat, and smiled frequently at her.

As they unpacked at Richard's house, Libby told them all about what she wanted to do next weekend. "The Rock Superbowl is Friday, and I can get some passes. Do you want to go?"

"Who's playing?" asked Richard.

"Fleetwood Mac, The Doobie Brothers, and some others," Libby replied.

Everyone agreed that they wanted to go except Bill. "I don't know my schedule yet," he replied. Libby noted that she had a lot of tickets to get.

Chuck dragged Jane over to the side of the house, and Keith kissed Libby on the cheek. "Do you want to do anything tonight?" he asked. Libby saw Carol glaring at her over his shoulder.

"Sure. Let's go see a movie," she replied. She was tempted to stick her tongue out at Carol, but just smiled sweetly at her.

"I'll call you in an hour or so," he promised.

* "So Into You" by Atlanta Rhythm Section

---

Chapter 10

"Louise, have you seen my black leather pants?" Carol shouted.

"I thought they were hanging up in your closet," replied Louise.

Carol stalked into the living room where Louise and Guido were watching The Joker's Wild on T.V., clad in only underwear and a black-and-white striped tank top. "I can't find them anywhere. I have starved myself all week so I could fit into them, and now I can't wear them!"

"Why don't you wear the shiny white bellbottoms?" asked Louise helpfully.

"I could wear those, but the black ones look so much better!" insisted Carol.

The two sisters walked back to the bedroom to find the pants. After some searching through dirty clothes piles, they located the pants. "Oh, I'm so glad," Carol gushed. "These are my best concert pants. I shook hands with Steve Tyler while wearing these pants." She pulled them on and pretended to suck in her already emaciated gut, even though the pants were not tight. "These are the only pants I have that don't make me look fat," she commented.

Louise rolled her eyes. "You don't look fat," she moaned. "I look fat!" she grabbed a handful of flesh from her middle and squeezed it.

The two women finished getting Carol ready for the concert and walked out to the living room. "Ready for a great time?" Carol asked Keith and Chuck. Louise and Guido were staying home; Libby and Richard had only been able to get five extra tickets.

The three of them drove to Libby and Jane's apartment. Richard, Carly, Libby and Jane came out immediately, as if they had been waiting by the front door. Jane cheered when she saw them.

"Carol, you're peeling," noticed Libby.

Carol shrugged. "Yeah, I've been really red all week. It doesn't hurt anymore, though." She had large patches of blistered-looking skin curling up all over her back and chest.

"Were you sick? It looks like you could have had sun poisoning," commented Carly.

"No, I was fine," lied Carol. Chuck, mercifully, didn't say anything. He had sat up with her when she had thrown up Saturday night, and rubbed aloe vera lotion on her burning skin. But he could tell that Carol wanted to downplay her illness, so he left her alone.

The Tangerine Bowl was packed with people flooding in for the concert. The group had to drive all around before they found a parking space.

Walking to the stadium, Carol was trying to be civil, she really was. But the way that Libby kept looking at Keith was infuriating! And he was grinning back at her like an idiot. She stumbled along unhappily in her platform shoes, alone. Chuck and his sweet, simple Jane practically skipped down the sidewalk; Richard chatted interestedly with the frizzy-headed, gap-toothed Carly. Carol could not understand it; she had always been the popular girl, surrounded by guys who were interested in her and complimented her often. Now, these men were paying their attention to ugly girls. She decided to get some attention back.

"Richard," she said, interrupting his boring discourse to Carly about military policy, "Can you do anything odd with your body parts?"

Carly looked like she were about to snicker at this question, but Carol ignored her. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Look," she commanded, and pulled her arm up behind her head at an alarming angle, her shoulder popping out sickeningly. "I'm double-jointed," she remarked, waiting for his exclamation of amazement.

"That's cool," he replied. "I can do my knuckle weird." He pulled his thumb to the bottom of the back of his hand, and his knuckle looked like it was unhinged. "Can you do anything, Carly?"

"Well, since I've been taking yoga, I can do all sorts of odd positions. Don't get any pictures in your head," she warned, wagging a finger at him.

Carol thought quickly; the last thing she wanted was for the conversation to turn into a discussion of Carly's contortionist abilities. "I can also flip my tongue around," Carol said quickly. She opened her mouth and turned her tongue upside down first to the left, then to the right. She then made it look like a rose.

"Oh, that's cool!" laughed Carly. "I can only make it look like a 'U'." She demonstrated, pulling the sides of her tongue up.

Richard laughed. "You are both talented," he announced.

They had approached the stadium, and Libby was now looking at the tickets to find their section. They found it, and climbed up the stairs to their seats. When they reached them, Carol asked Libby, "So, do you have backstage passes, too?"

Libby chuckled. "No, I need a little more time to reach that level. Right now they just want me to report on the traffic, what songs the bands played, and how the crowd reacted. Maybe throw in a little about how they looked and sounded, too."

"Mmm-hmm." Carol really couldn't care less about what the article was about; she just wanted to meet some of the musicians, especially Lindsey Buckingham. What a fox.

Before the concert began, Keith stood up. "I'm going to get something to drink. Does anyone else want anything?"

Carol sprung up. "I'll go with you and help you carry them," she offered. They got the drink orders from the others, and headed off to find the concession stand.

"So, are you having a good time, Carol? Excited to be at this concert?"

Carol stared straight ahead as she stalked along the concrete walkway. "You know I love concerts," she said. "Are you excited to be here?"

He grinned. "Yeah. I'm really glad we're all getting along so well. Libby's really cool to share her tickets with us. She went out of her way to get us here." He looked pointedly at Carol when he said "us".

They found a concession stand that had a line of about 15 people already standing in it. Carol sucked up her courage and asked, "So, what is going on with you two? You seem to be getting mighty familiar."

He looked sheepish and happy all at once. His neck started flaming a bit red. "She's a solid girl. There's no question about that. I wouldn't say she's my main squeeze yet or anything, but I'm working on it!"

Carol looked at the ground and kicked her toe against a crushed drink cup, forcing the bottom to flatten against the sides. "What will you do when we have to go back to New York?" She was afraid of the answer, so she said it softly.

He stared at a poster advertising the prices of the snacks. "I haven't decided yet. I mean, we might get such a team built up here that I may just stay."

Carol looked up at him sharply. "What would Warren and Anne say? Have you told Jo yet?"

Keith sighed. "No, I haven't told them. It's so indefinite that it doesn't seem practical to put the bug into their heads." They were now the next customers in line. He looked questioningly at her. "What about you? Do you want to go back?"

Carol's jaw dropped. "Of course! Central Florida is practically the middle of nowhere! I can't believe you don't hate it here. Come on, don't you think it's so... hot?"

It was their turn. Keith stepped up and ordered beers and sodas. While the attendant was filling the cups, Keith said, "Hot. Yeah, it sure is hot here. And there aren't as many people, let alone A-list people. But that's kind of why I like it. It's nice to be around people who are so real."

This was the reason Keith liked that Libby girl? Because she was real? What did that mean? "What do you mean by real, Keith?" Carol asked as he helped the attendant to put the drinks in a cardboard holder.

He looked straight into her eyes. "Not fake."

Carol shifted her weight uncomfortably, and then picked up a holder of drinks, ready to take them back. She waited for him to finish paying. I'm not fake, she thought. I just have high standards, and I like to be where the action is. What's wrong with that? "What, you think living in a small town that wants to be a city, and being overweight, and being mean to other people is real?" She knew it sounded stupid, but she was feeling overwhelmed with hurt.

Keith paused in the middle of the walkway, forcing people to walk around them. "Carol, what are you talking about? I like Libby because she's funny and generous. She doesn't worry about making the right people like her; she just says and does what she wants. I don't mean to compare her to you. You're right; there is no comparison between you two. She has never lived in New York, and if she moved there, she'd probably be eaten alive. She doesn't have the survival skills of the upper class like you do. But when has she ever been mean to you?" He looked really concerned.

Carol thought quickly. She honestly couldn't think of a single time that Libby had been anything but polite to her, even though she herself had been downright rude sometimes. "That's not the point," she asserted. "She's just not your type, Keith. Anne has told me many times how she hopes to have a daughter-in-law she can really get along with. Can you honestly picture your mother bringing Libby to a tea at the Westhampton Country Club? Or to the Children's Leukemia Society Benefit? Admit it, Keith. She wouldn't fit in."

Keith flared his nostrils as he turned to walk toward the seats, sloshing beer on his shirt as he did so. "What does it matter? If I organize a stable team here, I might just stay down here. And who said I'm even thinking that far ahead? If I'm having a good time with Libby, why should you care? Don't you want me to be happy?"

Carol stopped suddenly, at the base of the stairs to go up to their seats. It was all she could do to shout, What about me? Don't you want me to be happy, to be yours? Now all she could feel was idiotic that she had ever brought it up. "Of course," she tried to say nonchalantly. "If she makes you happy, go ahead. Have your fun with her. But remember who your family is, and what you owe them. Just because you're so in love down here in Florida, doesn't mean that you don't have to be seen with the right people back home."

Keith stood on the stairs, facing the wrong direction. He waited for her to brush past him before he turned and followed her to their seats.

He knew she was right. A family like his had to be cautious of who they connected with. His parents had always expected him to date women of their social circle, and he had tried. For a while, he even worried that he was gay because he would get turned off after a few dates. But his parents kept insisting that he keep trying.

His decision to join AmWay had astounded them. He could have been a vice president of any of his father's friends' businesses. But he had wanted to have something that was all his. Chuck's friendship had done more for his confidence than any job could have done. So, when they went to a meeting, and Chuck had gotten excited, he had signed up to sell, too. He ignored his family's disapproval, and set about building up a very successful business of his own. He knew it was corny and pedestrian, but it made him happy.

Libby, on the other hand, drove him crazy. She was an enigma that he had to figure out. How she could be so cute, and sexy, and funny, and everything that he had never known he wanted but couldn't live without... He didn't care that she lived in Florida, and that she worked for a small newspaper. He wanted to get to know her better, and he needed to be around her. It was healing him. She was healing him; she was making him forget how hurt his family had been this past year, and remember how good life could be.

He shook his head and came back into the moment. He walked up to the seats and delivered the drinks to the right people. He was in a daze all through Fleetwood Mac's performance, and the Doobie Brothers' jamming. Except for when Libby squeezed his hand and smiled at him. Then he was better than all right.

---

Chapter 11

Libby stared at the couple at the next table, who were gazing into each other's eyes and kissing each other across the table. The man's hand continuously caressed her jaw, while she batted her eyelashes and smiled demurely. Neither one of them noticed his elbow in his fettuccine alfredo.

Keith turned and glanced at the couple. "Do you want me to do that?" he joked quietly.

She smirked and looked away, feeling guilty. "Um, no. That sauce would be pretty hard to clean up." He glanced again, saw the man's elbow, and stifled a laugh.

When the waiter had come to clear away their plates, Keith tried again. "Where are we going Friday night?"

Libby smiled evilly and narrowed her eyes. "Won't work, babe," she warned.

He sighed in frustration and thought again of the description she had given him. "OK, I know that I need to wear clothes I don't mind getting dirty, and shoes that are ready for the trash. Are we hiking?"

"Like I said before, no."

"Also, it's something I haven't done in New York."

"Probably not," she reminded him.

"Does it involve my getting hurt?"

"Not unless you slip and fall," she said. The waiter brought Keith the bill. "Look, you probably won't guess. Even if you do, it's going to be a total surprise. Just enjoy it on Friday, and don't worry about it!"

"Just bear in mind that I'm trusting you," he warned.

She smiled again. Keith had taken her out for a real date tonight. Friday, they would be doubling with Chuck and Jane again, but tonight was all for them. Keith had been very sweet, but Libby was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. First, there was the notion that he thought she was wonderful. Not ordinary I-want-to-get-to-know-you-wonderful, but I-think-you're-perfect-wonderful. He laughed at every joke, hung on every word, and simpered into her face. He was acting clingy, and it was bothering her.

Second, she suspected that he was hiding something from her. She knew some things about him, but he was very quiet on the subject of his family. Oddly quiet, even though she had only known him a few weeks. It was as though he was ashamed of them. She knew several people with family problems, and didn't think it was unusual. She knew better than to get involved, though.

Third, he had a lot of upper-class notions. Libby was decidedly middle class, and made it known. She believed that she should work hard and value people for their friendship and accomplishments, while he let her know that his family wanted him to marry a woman with social connections. Even though he seemed intrigued by her lifestyle, she wondered if it was just a fleeting fascination that he would get bored with soon.

She had decided to take him somewhere that his upper class, New York lifestyle would be unaccustomed to. It would be a sort of test of whether he would get upset and stop seeing her, or if he could take the experience in stride and treat it as just an experience.

Their ride home that night was uneventful. They were rather quiet in the car, and when he dropped her off, the kiss was nothing great to speak of. Yet he seemed very happy while he walked back to the car.

The next two days at work, she didn't think about him, except when he called her. She tried to be cheerful and nonchalant, but knew that whether she wanted to see him again depended on Friday night.

---

Libby and Jane wore cutoff jeans shorts and old T-shirts. Libby's sneakers were ones she'd had for four years, and the right one had a hole over her little toe. Jane's sneakers were in equal disrepair. However, Jane had not caught Libby's apathy toward her love interest; her enthusiasm about Chuck was stronger than it had been when she'd first met him.

"They're going to be so surprised," Jane remarked as they pulled up to Chuck's Winter Park house. "Just wait until they see the buses!"

"Don't say anything until we're there," warned Libby.

They picked up the guys, who looked odd in their old clothes. Carol glared at the outfits as they walked out.

Keith was silent as Jane drove. "OK, we're heading east. What's on the east side of Orlando? Florida Tech?" Chuck inquired.

"We'll pass it," Jane assured him.

They kept driving. They drove east on State Road 50 ("How do you pronounce that road-Chuluota?") and passed many old, run-down buildings ("I've never heard of this town, Bithlo. It sounds like white supremacists and hound dogs") until they came to their destination: the Orlando Speedworld.

The parking lot, though it was just a huge, muddy field, was already almost full, and they had to follow the waving redneck man to a place near the back. "Where in the name of white trash have you brought us?" wondered Keith, climbing out of the car.

The girls laughed and walked toward the rickety stadium, arms around each other's shoulders. "Welcome to Bithlo," stated Libby. Keith and Chuck noticed that she pronounced it Biff- low. "Now this is the real Florida!"

They waded through mucky grass, past many old pick-up trucks and El Caminos, toward the racetrack. They waited in a long line with some very dirty-looking people to go to the stands. It started at 8:00, and it was now just 7:50. They climbed up wooden steps to sit in the bleachers, which had stark holes between the seats and footrests, where they could see the action on the track.

Orlando Speedworld had a football-stadium sized track running around it, with a big "X" in the middle of the field. "That's the figure 8," explained Jane. "That makes for some very exciting races."

"I can't believe we're at something called Crash O-Rama," moaned Keith.

"This is going to be far-out!" exclaimed Chuck.

As it turned out, the guys really enjoyed the demolition derby. Reckless men, who wished they could race real racecars, had fixed up cars from junkyards to race them around this track. There were several bizarre events, including old school bus races and cars that dragged old boats around. Around and around the figure 8 they would go, and when the drivers crashed into other cars, the crowd cheered wildly.

As a car with a rebel flag spray-painted on the top and sides collides with a rusty 1960 Ford Falcon, causing the Ford to spin onto the grass, Keith asked Libby, "Have you come here before?"

"Yeah, my dad used to bring us when we were 13 or 14," she explained. "My mom got so mad when she found out! She didn't want us exposed to this kind of thing." Libby let out a "Yee-haw!" as the Confederate car lost a wheel and continued driving, sparks shooting out behind the dragging metal bumper.

Chuck was kind enough to stand in a long line to get them some drinks and boiled peanuts, a Southern delicacy that the guys had not sampled. He brought them back in a cup. "That's not very many," remarked Keith.

"Yeah, but they're filling," replied Jane, who was splitting open the salty shell and sucking out the mushy peanut.

They threw their shells onto the ground below them. Between car events, Jane and Chuck competed to see who could throw their shell between the cracks of the footrests. The width of the crack was just wide enough for a peanut shell. Keith admitted that they were tasty. "They're mushy, but salty and good," he pronounced them.

Too soon, the demolishing was finished. The grand finale was to line up the worst banged-up cars and set fire to them. It was an exciting, fiery spectacle.

Their walk out to their car was equally muddy and precarious. They joked about how the mats and seats would be filthy, and Jane said she didn't care because they had had such a good time. Driving out, a lot of people leaned out their windows, shouting and hooting and hollering; people were pumped up on cheap fuel, crashes, and beer.

"Let's do something!" shouted Chuck as a truck passed by them with three moons hanging out the back. "Let's go for a walk or get some drinks. I'm feeling cantankerous!"

"Good word, sweetie," praised Jane.

They went to a small, country bar in Bithlo. Jane and Chuck immediately made a beeline for the jukebox and the small dance floor, while Libby and Keith took a seat at a wooden table by the wall. A buxom waitress with tight pants and a big, 1950s hairdo took their drink order.

"So, how'd you like tonight?" Libby asked, taking a swig of beer.

Keith nodded. "It was definitely different," he said cautiously. He smiled very widely at her. "You always surprise me. I don't know any other women who would take me to a demolition derby."

"Yes, they're really cool," gushed Libby. "I mean, you can't hold on to any snobbery or high-falootin' notions while you're there, can you? I bet you feel just as trashy as the guy who drove the 'General Pee', don't you?" He laughed his assent. "And you loved every second of it, didn't you?"

"Libby, I feel as if I could drive a pickup truck, put dip in my lip and have people start calling me Bubba," he remarked.

They were quiet for another minute or two, just sipping their beers. When the music changed, so did Keith's face. He held out his hand. "Do you want to dance?"

Libby took his hand with a smile. "Yes, now would be a good time to dance." They walked out to the floor. He put his right hand on her waist and lightly grasped her hand with his left, and started swaying and circling to the music.

I'll be fine when you're gone,
I'll just cry all night long,
Say it isn't true,
And don't it make my brown eyes blue.

Keith smiled into her eyes and gave her a peck on the forehead.

Tell me no secrets,
Tell me some lies
Give me no reasons,
Give me alibis.
Tell me you love me
And don't let me cry
Say anything but don't say goodbye.*

They were so close now, they were practically embracing. Libby thought Keith would probably kiss her again now, and she pulled back to look into his face. Just as she did, though, Jane tapped her shoulder.

"Janey, what's wrong?"

Jane had tears running down her face. "Sorry to interrupt you guys, but could you come outside please?"

"Of course," Keith replied. They hurriedly walked toward the entrance. "What's going on?"

"I think Chuck's about to get into a fight," Jane called over her shoulder.

When they exited the bar into the parking lot, they witnessed Chuck yelling at three guys. "I don't care if this is where you usually come, I'm here with my girl to have a good time! I don't need you punks to give me any trouble!"

"We don't need wimps like you hanging around our spot," one of the leather jacket wearers hurled back at him.

"You need to stay away from Jane, turkey," shouted the tallest.

Keith reached the group and put a hand on Chuck's chest and held up a warning hand to the opposing side. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. What's going on here?"

Chuck and the three guys started to talk at once. "One at a time! Chuck, what did these guys do to you?"

"They walked up to me and started hassling me because I'm here with Jane," he said, very calmly for how angry he looked.

"You need to tell your boy here that he just don't belong to be messin' with certain chicks," said the shortest one, who had a gap between his two front teeth.

"What's your problem with Jane?" asked Keith.

"We ain't got no problem with Jane, just with punks like him who shouldn't be messing around with her!"

"How do you know her?" Keith asked.

"She's my girl, Richie Rich," spat the tall one. "Or she was."

"You were the one who didn't call me anymore, so stop being stupid, Geoff!" shouted Jane.

Geoff started to back away, his hands in the air. "Fine. You want to be with this ugly, stuck-up butt-munch, fine with me. Just remember, Howdy Doody," he threatened, pointing at Chuck, "I had her first. And be careful, because she can get really cold afterwards."

The other two joined Geoff walking towards the car, still hurling insults such as "ice queen" and "poindexter" at them.

Chuck stormed off toward the back of the bar. Jane ran after him. "Has Chuck ever been in a fight before?" asked Libby, daring to speak for the first time since they had walked outside.

"Yeah, he can get very emotional. Usually calms down after a while, though. Jane should get him back to normal soon." Keith crossed his arms and stared after the couple. After a moment, he pulled out his wallet. "Here, go pay our bill. We'll want to leave soon, I'm sure." He gave her a ten-dollar bill. "Be sure to tip the waitress well."

Libby found the waitress soon, paid, gave her an apologetic smile, and went back out to join Keith. She heard Chuck, who didn't seem to be cooling down after all.

"Do you love him, Jane?"

Jane's voice was very shaky, and they could barely hear her from the distance. "I don't know," she replied.

Chuck walked back towards them. He pounded his fist against the side of the building.

"Come on, man. Let's get in the car and go home."

Chuck said nothing, but nodded.

Libby walked back to Jane, who was stumbling toward her. "Here, Janey. I'll drive. Do you want to ride up front with me?"

Jane had trouble even nodding at her, she was crying so hard.

Libby and Jane rode in the front, with the guys in the back seat. Chuck fumed the whole way home. When they arrived at Chuck's rental home, he barely muttered "Thanks," flung open his door and sprinted toward the house. Keith shut the door behind him and walked around to the driver's side, where Libby had the window open.

"We're just going to go straight home," said Libby.

"OK. Be safe, all right?" advised Keith.

He pecked her on the mouth. She started to pull away, when he trotted along beside the car. "Wait for a second. I really wanted to give you this," he pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, "but I kept putting it off. Will you read this?"

"Sure," said Libby. She tucked it into her own pocket and pulled out of the driveway.

*"Don't It Make My Brown Eyes Blue" by Crystal Gayle

---

Chapter 12

Libby had an exhausting evening. After driving Jane home, who had sobbed as if her heart would break the whole way, she had taken her inside, gotten her ready for bed, and sat on the edge of the bed until Jane had calmed down enough to talk.

"I can't believe I said that, Libby. I ruined everything!" Jane whimpered into her pillow.

"Jane, sweetie, you didn't ruin anything. It was that jerk, Geoff. I can't believe him!"

"Libby, he hates me. Why didn't I say I don't love him? I DON'T love him! I used to think I did, but I know I don't now. I love Chuh- uh- uck!" she choked out.

Libby smoothed her hair. "Chuck loves you," she pointed out. "He'll get over this quickly, Jane. He seems like the type to communicate. In fact, I bet he'll call you tomorrow, begging your forgiveness."

Jane sighed and hiccupped. "Libby, that is sweet of you, but I don't think it will happen. I think I screwed things up too badly."

"Yes, but I've seen him looking at you," insisted Libby. "He loves you too much to let this get in the way. You guys can work it out. It is possible."

Jane had turned to the wall and said simply, "Thanks, Libby."

Libby had gotten ready for bed. As she changed out of her dirty clothes, she heard the rustle in her pocket and realized that Keith's note was in there.

"The Food of Love"
Our love is like a seagull
Gliding over the ocean
I love to see your soaring smile
And watch your form in motion

You are a Goddess to me
A Pallas Athena or Aphrodite
Your simple ways thrill my soul
And your temper would never spite me

I cannot wait to satiate my hunger
Our passion will surely nourish
Every time I look into your eyes
I feel my fears vanish

Elizabeth, you are the sun and the moon
Your twinkling eyes are so fine
One day I'll improve your status
By claiming you as mine.

Libby reread the poem, shocked. Surely this wasn't the Keith she had gotten to know over the past few weeks? This poem was, well, awful.

She had had her experiences with poetry in high school, and then college, when she had taken creative writing. During those times, she had come to see rhyming poetry as trite and silly; it was too constraining for the author to really express him or herself. Using words one normally didn't use, such as "satiate", was another no-no in her book. Also, this poem left many things unexplained, which was unforgivable. A boyfriend of Jane's in high school had written her songs that he sang on his guitar, and Libby had wanted to strangle the poor sap.

Athena?she thought angrily. Am I the goddess of war? Aphrodite, the goddess of love, wasn't bad, but why on earth would he call her two different goddesses, and then on the next line call her simple? She was beginning to feel her temper, and it was enough to spite him.

What was this nonsense about calling her the sun and the moon? His putting her on a pedestal and thinking her perfect was exactly what she was disgusted by. The line "One day I'll improve your status" made her want to kick him in the shins. Was something wrong with her status? How dare he imagine that she'd need him to bring her up in the world!

Libby flung the paper on the floor by her bed. She was annoyed and tired, and as far as she was concerned, she wouldn't be seeing Keith anymore.

The phone ringing the next morning woke her up. "Hello?" she answered groggily, hoping it was Chuck for Jane.

"Hello, Elizabeth. It's your mother."

"Hi, Mom."

"Libby, you sound like you're still in bed! It's nearly ten o'clock!"

Libby struggled to sit up. "Yeah. We had a long night last night."

"Is everything all right?" Mrs. Bennet sounded concerned.

Libby paused. "Jane's upset. She and Chuck had a fight."

"Oh, no!"

"We ran into Geoff last night."

"Wickham?"

"That's the one. He tried to call Jane his girl, and called Chuck a few names. Then Chuck got upset with Jane. We were all pretty miffed."

"Oh, Libby! Did they make up?"

"No. I'm hoping he comes to his senses and calls today. Don't worry, though," she said, realizing that her mother would take this opportunity to smother Jane, "I've got it under control. Jane's going to be fine."

"Baby, is there anything I can do?" Libby could tell Mrs. Bennet was sincere, and not just trying to meddle in the girls' lives.

Libby thought hard. "Yes, you can, Mom. We'll come over to do our laundry, and you can make Jane her favorite grilled cheese."

"Oh, that sounds good! Sure, Libby. You bring your sister over, and I'll have a nice sandwich for her. I'll make you lunch, too, Sweetie."

"Thanks, Mom. Hey, could you act like you don't know what I told you? I'm not sure if Jane wants to talk about it yet."

"Don't worry, Libby. I'll be very cool, isn't that what they're saying nowadays? And if Jane wants to talk, I'll be here."

"That's great, Mom. We'll be over in an hour or so."

Jane woke up relatively easy. She smiled at Libby, then a look crossed her face that told Libby that she remembered last night. "Chuck is really mad at me, isn't he, Libby?"

Libby grabbed her hands and pulled her to an upright sitting position. "We're not going to think about that right now, Jane. We're going over to Mom and Dad's. Separate your laundry." Libby walked across the room and picked up Jane's laundry basket. She put it at the foot of Jane's bed. "Come on, get up!"

"All right, all right!" Jane threw back her pink blanket. She reached for the basket, and then said, "Wait, Libby. I can't go. What if Chuck calls?"

"He can call back," Libby said. "But if you're here waiting for him, then he's won. He can't get angry with you and then expect you to sit around waiting for him."

"Libby, it's partly my fault. I should be here to talk to him."

"Jane, you get started on your laundry. If you're really wanting to talk to him, I'll call Keith and tell him we're going over to Mom and Dad's."

Jane nodded. "That's a good idea. Thanks."

Libby walked out of Jane's bedroom and slapped her forehead with her palm. The last thing she wanted to do was to call him! Well, maybe she could make it brief and wouldn't have to discuss the horrible poem.

She shuffled over to the phone in the kitchen. She pulled the receiver off the hook and dialed the guys' number, her finger lingering in the hole after each number rotated the dial back into place. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding, not wanting anyone to answer. After three rings, a female voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Caroline? It's Libby Bennet."

Pause. "Oh, hi, Libby," Caroline responded in a sugary sweet voice.

"Hey. Is Keith or Chuck there?"

There was a noise on the other end as if Caroline were covering up the receiver. "Um, no, actually, they're not. They had to go out. Something about some AmWay contacts."

"Oh." Libby felt relieved, yet disappointed. "Could you tell them, then, that we're going over to my parents' house? If they need to reach us, we'll be over there."

"Sure thing! You have a good day!"

"You too. Bye."

When the two of them arrived at the Bennets' half an hour later, Jane practically dragged herself out of the car. She hauled the laundry basket out of the backseat, and plodded to the front door.

Mrs. Bennet greeted them at the front door, her apron spotless and her hair perfectly coiffed. "Look who it is! It's my first baby." She kissed Jane on the top of the head. "How are you, baby?"

Jane smiled weakly at her. "I'm fine, Mom."

Mrs. Bennet held the door open for them. "Come on in, come on in. I'm making lunch in a little while. Your favorite, Jane! Grilled cheese!"

Jane's face showed relief and happiness all at once. "Thanks, Mom," she said sincerely.

Libby took both of their laundry baskets to the washer and dryer and put in the first load. When she returned to the living room, Jane was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, in between Mary's legs, who was braiding her hair and telling Jane about her high school graduation, which was next Saturday.

"We have white caps and gowns, and the guys get to wear red ones. I think I'd rather wear a color, though, because I have to wear a white outfit underneath. Jane, I know I don't have a complete white outfit! Maybe I should just go nude."

Jane sniffed and tilted her head back to look at Mary's face. "I still have my outfit. You can wear mine. I know it's five years old, but..."

"That would be cool, Jane! I always loved that dress." Mary arranged the strands of hair into one hand so that she could grab a comb from the cushion. "You guys are coming, aren't you?" Mary asked, addressing the question also to Libby, who had joined her on the black, brown and white plaid couch.

"Nah, I have plans," Libby said nonchalantly. When Mary gave her a sad face, Libby grinned. "I'm kidding! Why would we miss your graduation?"

Mary smiled and finished the braid, securing it with a rubber band. "Thanks, guys. Mom wants us all to go out to eat afterwards. Plus it'll be hot out there on the football field, so wear something that is cool, but you can also wear in a restaurant."

"Sure," murmured Jane. She sounded lost in thoughts.

"Hey, Mary, what's going on with the youth intern?" Libby asked to change the subject.

Mary nodded. "He's doing a good job. He had us running this funky relay race at our last youth group. We had to run up and grab something out of a bag and eat it. We had to swallow it before we ran back to the line. I got a little box of cereal, but Lydia got a scallion!"

"EWWW!" both Libby and Jane exclaimed.

"But he's got really great ideas. He tells us that we don't have to conform to what our parents are telling us, because they want us to be just like them. He tells us to look to the Bible, and pray about who we should be."

Libby frowned. "Really? I mean, yeah, you should be your own person, but that sounds a little..." she faltered, not really knowing what to say.

Jane chimed in, "Yeah, that sounds odd. Everyone in that group is a minor, and you have to listen to what your parents are telling you."

"No, no, he didn't mean it like that," Mary explained quickly. "He just meant that our parents sometimes make wrong choices too. Or that they try to live their lives through us. It's more about achieving your own faith and sense of identity, rather than trying to make everyone else happy."

"Well, that sounds OK. As long as the people who he is telling this to are intelligent and able to make their own decisions without messing up too badly."

"Yeah, he really challenges us to be better, you know? Most youth leaders think we are silly kids who want to get in trouble all the time. But he respects us, and it shows through in his actions." Mary's eyes were shining.

"How does Lydia like it?" asked Libby.

"She adores it. She's even asked him if she could talk to him privately a few times. She asked me to wait for her last week while she sat around with him."

"If he helps Lydia, he's all right in my book," said Jane.

Mrs. Bennet came into the room with a tray full of grilled cheese sandwiches for everyone. She sat next to Jane on the couch, and hugged her frequently with one arm. Jane was the center of attention, and seemed to enjoy the coddling.

The rest of the visit passed as smoothly. Jane seemed very comforted by the time they left. It wasn't until they were turning onto their street that Jane noticed, "Chuck never called."

"They were busy," Libby excused him. "I talked to Caroline this morning and she told me they had something to do with the business."

Jane just stared at the window.

When they were walking to the front door, however, Mrs. Jones from down the street was walking toward them. "Hey, girls," she called. "Jane, I have a favor to ask of you."

Jane smiled at her. "What is it, Maddie?"

Maddie responded, "Well, Sam and I want to go to visit some friends in a couple of days. But we can't leave the girls all alone. We were wondering if you would like to come over and watch them and the house for a few days."

Jane nodded. "I can do that!" They discussed a few more details. Then they began a conversation about work. Maddie was considering taking some college courses. Since Christy was in first grade at Jane's school, and Debbie was already enrolled in a day care, it would be easy for Jane to watch them for a few days without taking any time off this last week of school.

Libby excused herself and went inside. She liked the Joneses, but she wasn't sure that babysitting would be the best option for Jane. It might give her some free time to think about Chuck, if they hadn't reconciled by now.

---

Chapter 13

By Thursday, Libby was ready for the weekend. The week had been absolute torture.

First of all, neither Chuck nor Keith had called. She was not in a fiery rush to talk to Keith, but she was curious as to why he had not contacted her. She had broken down on Tuesday and called the house, but there was no answer.

Jane had babysat for the Joneses, and Libby went over several times to check on her in the tiny green-and-white house. Jane sat morosely, always near the telephone, when the young girls weren't tugging at her mercilessly. Libby played hide-and-seek with them to keep them from squashing Jane, who was in a constant daze.

Driving home on Tuesday on I-4 from a rather unproductive research interview, her tire had blown out. She was terrified, and pulled off to the left shoulder, but realized it wasn't even wide enough for her to get out of the car. So she had to wait for a break in the traffic (almost twenty minutes during the rush hour) until she could pull out into the main lanes and drive, on the bald rim, to the other side of the road. She discovered, when she did, that the jack supplied in the trunk of her car was quite useless, so she had had to hike to a gas station to call a tow truck and Jane. She had actually worn pantyhose for the interview, and it got many runs from the hitchhiker weeds growing on the side of the highway. She spent Wednesday getting her tire replaced and buying a new jack.

On Thursday, she wandered around work, trying to waste time so that the afternoon would come sooner. She happened upon Richard, who asked her, "How's your week going?"

Libby gave him an earful and a half of how her week was going. Finally he interrupted her and said, "Woah, Charger. Better settle down before you hurt yourself. How about we go to happy hour tomorrow?"

"Oh, I need a happy hour," replied Libby.

Jane also appreciated the idea. When she went home that night, the girls gave each other massages and ate Burger Chef fast food. They decided that they had had enough cruelty for one week. They painted each other's toenails. Libby thought that her pink sparkly toes looked terrific. She was happy something about her looked good.

Friday evening after work, Libby followed Richard to Tom & Jerry's bar, where Jane met them for drinks. When she got off work (from a week that had been not nearly as stressful), Carly joined them as well. They also ran into an old friend from high school, Alicia.

Alicia turned out to be a poor influence on them. She loved to experiment with different kinds of shots, which she kept insisting they join her in. Richard had gone outside to play darts with Carly, but Jane and Libby kept downing shots with Alicia. And the more liquor they had inside them, the sadder their weeks became.

When Carly and Richard came inside, holding hands and laughing, Jane had her head down on the bar, and Libby was talking to a man who was in his late fifties and had a combover.

"I mean, come on," Libby gushed to the man. "My sister is bee-yoo-tiful! Why would he do that to her? Why?"

"He sounds like he doesn't know what he's missing," the man sympathized with her.

"I know! He is a loser! And maybe he did something to my tire to make it explode" (Here Libby flailed her arms about in an explosive gesture) like it did on I-4! Do you know how hard it is to change a tire?" Libby asked the man.

"Yeah, I work for a tire company," he replied. "I go out to fix flats all the time."

"Libby, what have you had to drink?" asked Richard.

"Um, not much," Libby hiccupped. "My friend bought me a shot, and then I think I had a beer. Or maybe a Kamikaze, I don't know."

"Oh, geez minetti, have you been mixing alcohols?" asked Richard frantically.

Alicia sashayed up to Richard. "Hey, Sugar Cookie," she slurred at him. "Are you with my good, good friend Libby?" She smiled drunkenly at him.

Richard recoiled from her strong breath. "Yeah. Why, do you know what she was drinking?"

"Yes, and I'll tell you, Mr. Fantastic, that she's not going to feel too good tomorrow! She had tequila, kahlua and cream, something green, a Budweiser, and a Kamikaze."

"And a Goldschlager," reminded the balding man.

"Oh, yeah, my new friend bought us Goldschlager shots," remembered Alicia. "That was so nice of you! You don't even know us!" she thanked the man, smiling widely into his face.

"Janice, can we have the tab, please?" Richard said to the bartender. He looked at the man. "What about this one? Is she passed out?"

At this comment, Jane popped her head up. "No, I'm not passed out!" she exclaimed, wide awake. "I don't like tequila," she observed. "It tastes bad when you burp it up." Her cheeks puffed out a little, as she burped and tasted the alcohol.

"Oh, Lord, I think I'm driving home," observed Carly.

The two of them practically had to carry Jane to the car, while Libby danced her way out. They all rode in Carly's car, since she had had nothing to drink but a Coke.

---

Libby moaned. The sun was very, very bright. Had scientists invented laser beams that shot from the sun directly into her eyes? She pulled the cover over her head, but the rustling was so, so loud that she moaned again.

Jane was lying next to her. "Oh, please don't move like that again," pleaded Jane. "I have already made too many trips to the bathroom. I want to die." The last word dragged out of her, so that it sounded like daah-ie.

"Jane, what happened last night?" Libby asked, trying not to move too much with her talking.

"I think we had too much to drink," recalled Jane. "I remember that girl, Alicia, and something about Carly and Richard." Jane smiled. "Oh yeah, I think they're dating."

Libby smiled weakly. "Good for them," she commented. "I knew they could do it."

"What, date each other?"

"Yeah." Libby licked her lips. "Man, I'm thirsty." She gently put her hand to her forehead. "Oh, what did I drink? I feel awful!"

Jane slowly and tenderly reached out her hand and patted Libby on the hand that was holding the cover over her head. "You drank a little of everything. That's why it's so bad. I did, too."

They were quiet for a few minutes, then Jane asked, "How did we get home? Did either of us drive?"

At that moment, Carly walked in, carrying two glasses of ice water. "No, I wouldn't let you do that," she assured them. "I drove. Richard and I carried you inside. You were both passed out. You drank for four hours, for goodness' sake!" She shook her head.

"Oh, Carly, thank you," whispered Jane. She slowly sat up and sipped the water that Carly held for her. "What would we do without you?"

"Wake up at the bald guy's apartment," guessed Carly. "You need to stay in bed. I'll be back to check on you in an hour or so."

Jane shook her head, then held her hands up to steady the dizzying feeling. "No, we have to get up. Mary's graduation is today."

Libby groaned. "What time is it?"

Carly looked at the clock. "Nine-thirty," she observed.

"Good. It doesn't start until one o'clock. We have about two or two-and-a-half hours to get ready."

"Ugh, I'm staying right here. I can't move," whined Libby.

"Yes, you're getting up. I didn't feel like getting up last week, but you made me, and I'm glad you did," said Jane. "You don't want to let Mary down. I know you don't."

Libby's eyes appeared from under the blanket, bloodshot and sleepy-lidded. "No, I don't," she agreed. "It's going to take me a while, though. Are we all right to drive?"

"You should be," replied Carly.

"Well, I'll get up. But I won't look pretty. You can't make me. The best I can do right now is clean."

"You'll feel so much better once you've had a shower. Oh, and Libby?" Jane said as Libby crawled out of the bed.

"Yeah?"

"You're always my beautiful princess sister," Jane said in a baby voice.

"Shut up or I'll bounce on the bed," Libby threatened.

---

At twelve forty-five, Libby and Jane climbed out of the Maverick. Both were wearing large sunglasses. Libby had on the same green velour dress that she had worn to Rosie O'Grady's. Jane had on a beige skirt and a short-sleeved, white button-down blouse. Both of them looked well-rested and pretty, belying how awful they still felt inside.

"Oh my gosh, I don't think I can walk in these shoes," muttered Libby.

"You can do it," Jane grunted through gritted teeth, as they spotted Lydia. Jane waved unenthusiastically as Lydia scowled at them.

"Wow, Lydia looks as bad as I feel," Libby commented. "What's eating her?"

As they approached, Lydia looked away and started walking towards the bleachers. "When will Edgewater build its own stadium?" Libby wondered. They had to share a football stadium with another nearby high school.

They followed Lydia up to a row of seats not too high up to make them dread climbing the stairs. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet smiled as they approached. Mr. Bennet stood and kissed them on their cheeks.

When they sat down, Libby was able to lean over to her dad and whisper, "What's eating Lydia?" They glanced down at her, sitting at the end of the row. She was picking her fingernail polish, and ignoring everyone and everything around her. Normally, Lydia would be standing up, smiling and flirting with any nearby cute boys; she seemed uncharacteristically lethargic and depressed.

Mr. Bennet sighed. "I wish I knew," he confessed. "Your mother and I have been trying and trying to get her to tell us. But you know how Lydia is. Stubborn as a mule. She says we wouldn't understand."

Libby thought. "Well, maybe Jane can talk to her. They've always been able to talk," she said.

Her father responded with silence. Libby thought that he must be very worried indeed if he could not even have faith in Jane's communicating abilities. From childhood, the girls had always had their connections with the younger sisters: Libby and Mary were close, and Jane and Lydia. Libby hoped Jane could perk Lydia up, but with Jane's sad mood, it seemed unlikely.

When the ceremony started, Mrs. Bennet was up out of her seat, making a fuss over Mary. They had a good view of her, and her gold tassels and cords glinted in the sun. Mrs. Bennet had to be up in the aisle, taking snapshots and fussing about the angle and other students blocking her view of Mary.

Mary graduated with honors. She had been disappointed not to have been Valedictorian, but she had been among the top ten in her class, and had received several scholarship offers from Florida schools. When the principal called her name to hand her the diploma and shake her hand, the Bennets all stood, cheered, whistled, and catcalled. Libby and Jane fought the pain in their throbbing heads to support Mary, but all Lydia could manage was a pathetic clap.

Afterward, among all the confusion of families meeting up with graduates, Libby prodded Jane to talk to Lydia. She saw Jane pull her aside, and watched as Lydia stared at the ground and refused to open up to her favorite sister. She could scarcely believe the change in her youngest sister in such a short time.

The family agreed to meet at Ronnie's, a popular restaurant on Colonial Drive. Jane tried to persuade Lydia to ride with them, but she refused. Libby and Jane dragged themselves back to Libby's car.

"Oh, I just want to go home and sleep," moaned Libby.

"I'm starting to feel a little better," Jane said hopefully. "I need something to drink, though."

"Nothing like hot seat belts to get you motivated," Libby said, quickly trying to buckle the seat belt without touching it. She clawed her fingers, trying to only touch the plastic.

Finally, they were set, and with windows rolled down and sweat gathering on their foreheads, they set off for Ronnie's. Libby touched the steering wheel with only the tips of her fingers, first with her left hand, then with her right. "I can't wait to own a car with air conditioning," she commented.

"That ought to be standard in cars in Florida," observed Jane.

After the short drive, Libby found that Ronnie's was busy. Apparently, many families had thought it a good place to celebrate. It was located in the corner of a shopping center, so they had to drive quite a ways down from the restaurant to find a parking space.

Libby never liked to take her time getting out of a car. Especially not a day like today, when it was so hot, and she knew the inside of Ronnie's would be nice and cool. So she quickly pulled the keys from the ignition, snatched her purse, and locked and shut the door all in one motion. Jane then pointed out that the gift that she had responsibly bought and wrapped from both of them was on Libby's side in the backseat, so she had to open the car again, and awkwardly balance her purse on her shoulder while reaching for the present. Finally, she was ready to walk in, but had a handful with her keys in her hand, and the gift in the other. She hurried up to the sidewalk, trying to put her keys in the zippered pocket with one hand, which was normally a two-handed job.

She wasn't watching where she was going, so she clumsily tripped over the curb and fell. She felt herself going down almost in slow motion. Her hands reached out to stop her fall on the concrete, causing the gift to fly out from her hands and skid across the walk. She tumbled onto her palms and her knees. Without even looking, she knew her knees had been skinned through her dress, and feeling her toenails scraping the asphalt, knew also that her pedicure from the other night was all grated off.

Jane gasped and cried out, "Libby, are you OK?"

A familiar male voice asked, "Can you get up?" She saw his hand reaching out towards her and looked up into his eyes.


---

Chapter 14

Libby was speechless. For one thing, she was gasping from running and then tripping; then, she was at a loss for what to say to Keith, who was holding out his hand toward her.

"Libby, here, you have to get up," Jane prodded, reaching down to take her forearm. With their aid, Libby managed to get into a sitting position on the curb.

"Oh, how embarrassing," she moaned.

A familiar female voice said, "Wow, that looked painful! Are you OK?"

Libby looked down at her lap. Great, she thought. Just what I need, Carol to gloat over my clumsy fall. She looked up and smiled. "Yeah, I had a nice trip," she quipped.

Jane and Carol giggled, but Keith did not. "Man, you had me worried there for a second," he told her. Libby looked at his face. "I ran over here as fast as I could."

Libby smiled. "Thanks," she managed. "It's lucky you were here." Unlike this whole week, when I've been wondering where you've been, she thought.

Jane asked, "So what are the two of you doing here?"

Keith replied, "I just flew back in from New York. I had to go up there to see my family." He seemed to look questioningly at Libby. "Carol was nice enough to pick me up from the airport."

"We're just stopping by here for some lunch on our way home," Carol informed them.

Libby nodded. "It's our sister Mary's graduation day. We're having lunch here, too."

Jane looked at her toes. "Libby, you're all scraped up! We'd better get you inside where you can wash up."

Libby stood up awkwardly without any hands, and Jane picked up the gift, which now had skid marks on the wrapping. "Well..."

"Well, we'll see you around," Carol said quickly. "Come on, Keith. We have to go get a table."

Keith did not look as if he knew what to say. "Sure, here," he said as he held the door open for them.

Jane spotted their family. "Come on, sis; we'll leave the present at the table with Mom and Dad, and then go to the bathroom."

Carol was busy telling the hostess that she needed a table for two in the smoking section, and Keith was studying his shoes. "OK," Libby said. "Hey, Keith, I'll see you around, right?"

He looked up. "Right," he replied. "Um, I'll call you sometime this week."

"OK." Libby didn't know if she should ask about Chuck. She decided not to. "Bye."

At the table, Jane informed Mr. and Mrs. Bennet of Libby's situation and need to wash up, and pulled Libby to the ladies' room. She pulled several paper towels out of the holder, ran the water, and started squirting soap onto one of the towels. "Wow, that was weird," she commented.

"Lordy, I can't believe Carol saw me fall! And Keith, too! Oh, Janey, I'm so embarrassed." She put her foot up on the counter and started dabbing at the scrapes on her knees. She winced and drew in a sharp breath as the soap touched the raw skin.

"I'm sure they were more concerned that you were all right," Jane said as she patted the soapy area with a wet paper towel.

"Yeah, because it wouldn't have been funny if I'd gotten hurt, now would it?" Libby asked with bitterness in her voice. "You can laugh at the dork on TV who trips and falls as long as you know he's not really hurt."

"Keith looked genuinely concerned," Jane pointed out. "Here, run your hands under the water."

Libby did as she was told. "Oh, man, my skin is just shredded here," she said as she pulled a piece of wet, loose skin.

"Don't pull on it," Jane advised. "Here, you wash off some more and I'll ask a waitress if they have any band-aids."

Again, Libby did as Jane told her. She was drying off her toes (which looked as if she'd used sandpaper to try to remove the polish) when Carol came in. Carol completely ignored her and walked into a stall. Libby kept patting, and presently Jane came in, too.

"They gave me a box, and told me to use as many as we need," Jane told her.

Libby tried to silently motion with her head. "What?" Jane asked, clueless to what the head jerk meant. Libby mouthed, "Carol!" but Jane still looked confused. Libby grabbed the box and shook her head as the toilet flushed and Carol walked out.

She walked right past them out the door. "Can you believe her nerve?" asked Jane incredulously.

"Can you believe she didn't wash her hands?" Libby said disgustedly. "Ew!"

They finished putting Libby together and walked out. When they approached the table, Mary turned around and saw Libby's bandaged knees and hands. She held back a laugh. "Wow, Libby. You got all dressed up for me!"

"Shut up," Libby told her as she took the seat across from her.

"Libby!" Mrs. Bennet was shocked. "Why would you say that to your sister?"

"She's just teasing, Mom," assured Mary. "Right, Libby? You're just joshing me." She kicked her leg under the table to emphasize the fact that they were all supposed to be kidding each other.

"Of course, my huge-brained little sister," Libby said back. "Hey, did y'all order yet?"

"No, we were waiting for you," Mr. Bennet said.

The waitress walked up at that moment. Libby and Jane ordered last so they could look over the menu.

Then, Mary opened her presents. Her parents gave her a new journal, a set of nice pens, and a gold cross necklace. Libby and Jane's present turned out to be a photo album and a hardcover, first edition copy of The Catcher In The Rye. Everyone noticed that Lydia had given her nothing.

Libby was glad that the restaurant had a partition so that she couldn't see where Keith and Carol were sitting. She was happy that she was with her family, although she frowned on Lydia, sitting quietly, dripping water on her straw wrapper so that it unwound like a snake.

---

Jane and Libby took Mary out to see a movie later that evening. It was early enough so that Mary could go to a graduation party that some friends were having. Mary described it as the "Nerd Convention." Libby assured her that, since they had graduated, they were no longer nerds.

"Shoot, that was kind of my claim to fame," Mary joked.

When they got home, Libby flopped on the couch. "Whew, what a day!"

Jane was taking off her sandals. "Doesn't that hurt your scrapes?"

Libby rested her hands lightly on her stomach. "No ... I just want to lie here for a while. I feel so comfortable."

Jane turned on the TV. They watched in contented silence for a while. Then the phone rang, and Jane picked it up. "Hello?" she waited a second. "Hello, who's there?" she made a confused face and hung the receiver up. "Maybe it was a wrong number, but it sounded like someone hung up on me."

"Probably a wrong number," Libby said tiredly. She went to the bathroom to change her bandages. While she was snipping off some loose skin with cuticle scissors, Jane came to the door.

"Libby, it happened again. I'm getting annoyed."

"Leave the phone off the hook for a while."

"If we do that, someone might try to call. What if it's important and they can't get through?"

Libby looked up at Jane. "Well, if it happens again, we'll call the phone company and report it. Maybe they'll get bored of doing it after a while and stop."

Jane nodded. Libby changed into her comfy clothes, and came back out to the living room. While she was popping popcorn, the phone rang again.

"I'll get it," she told Jane. "Yes? Can I help you?" she said icily into the phone. There was blank silence on the other line. Libby waited silently. After about ten seconds, there was a hanging up sound.

"OK, I'm calling the phone company," Libby said.

She dialed the operator and waited. When the woman's voice came on the line, she told her what had happened. "It's happened three times within fifteen minutes. We're two single women living here, and it's a little unnerving," she said.

"Yes. We'll monitor your line to see if any unusual activity happens again," the operator assured her.

Ten minutes later, it happened again. Libby picked it up, with Jane standing by her shoulder. "Hello?"

Again the silence. She heard a woman's voice saying, "The call was placed from ___________, so we have tracked the phone number. We can block this number from calling you, if you wish."

Libby heard the click of the other phone hanging up. "Yes, please. I don't want them calling again." She made the arrangements with the operator and then hung up. "I hope they don't just go to a different phone and call," she said.

They both wondered who would be calling them. It was starting to get creepy. But the call block obviously worked, because when they shut off the television and went to bed, they had not gotten another phone call.

---

Chapter 15

Libby and Jane both went to church the next day. The odd phone calls had made them want to feel safe and close to their families. They wound up sitting with the whole Bennet clan, in the pew behind Mr. and Mrs. Jones and their oldest daughter, Christy. Mary persisted in passing notes on the backs of offering envelopes to Libby. The great thing about Mary was that she passed notes about the sermon, rather than about boys or gossip. Her comments were usually things like "Yes, I’m sure Paul would have agreed with that; after all, weren’t the early Christians Southern Baptist?" and "Oh my, C.S. Lewis is probably rolling over in his grave after hearing that interpretation on 1 Corinthians 13!!!" It was all Libby could do not to burst out laughing. She tried to concentrate on the throbbing in her knees to avoid giggling, and wrote back some witty sayings of her own.

After the service, Mrs. Jones turned to Jane.

"Thank you again for housesitting for us, Jane."

"It was my pleasure, Maddie. Christy was so good! We had so much fun!" Jane smiled and patted the little girl on the shoulder.

"Jane, when are you coming to spend the night again?" Christy asked.

"We can have a sleepover party any time your mommy says it’s OK!" Jane assured her.

Mr. Jones had gone to collect Debbie from the nursery. "There’s Janey!" shrieked the little girl.

"Hey, Debbie!" Jane held out her arms to the little blonde girl. Debbie happily climbed into Jane’s hug, and then looked querulously at Libby.

"Your shirt’s pink," she informed her.

"That’s right! It is pink," Libby agreed.

Debbie nodded solemnly. "I knew that in my brain," she informed them.

"You sure are smart," Jane told her.

"I know," Debbie replied simply.

"What are you doing this afternoon?" Maddie asked them.

The girls looked at each other. "Nothing," replied Jane.

"Do you want to come on a walk with us? We promised the girls they could ride bikes."

"Sure. I’d love a walk." Libby added silently to herself, "I would like to clear my head."

When they got home, they changed into shorts and tee shirts and walked to the Joneses’. Debby was already riding her red tricycle around on the sidewalk outside the little green- and- white house. Mr. Jones was watching her. Libby and Jane chatted with him about the weather until Maddie and Christy came out, dressed in play clothes. Christy mounted her blue bicycle and showed off how she could ride without training wheels. They all complimented her riding skills, then set off down the street.

"So, what’s been going on in your world?" Mrs. Jones inquired.

"Oh, wow, a lot has been going down lately," Libby moaned.

"Like what?" Maddie looked curiously at her.

Libby told her about the flat tire on I-4, the awful hangover, the skinned knees (complete with visual aids), and the prank phone calls. "Oh yeah, and the guys we’ve been dating have weirded out on us," she ended.

"Yikes! It’s been quite a week," Maddie commiserated.

Mr. Jones went to steer the girls away from a car that was approaching, and Maddie said, "What do you mean, ‘weirded out’?"

Jane replied, "Well, I sort of screwed up. I panicked when Chuck asked what was up with an old boyfriend, and he hasn’t called me."

"Hasn’t called you? Do you know why?"

Jane shook her head. "Well, there’s always the possibility that he hates me and wants nothing to do with me. But I really don’t know what’s going on."

Maddie nodded sympathetically. "And what’s going on with your guy, Libby?"

Libby snorted. "I really don’t know," she said. "I mean, he was very into me, and then he wrote me this horrible poem." She smirked, thinking about how bad it had been. "And he hasn’t called me either! But we did see him yesterday." She recounted how he had seen the infamous fall. "And to top it off, he was with Carol. And she was very witchy to us."

Jane had stopped listening to Libby. She was looking down the street at a car that was driving toward them. When it slowed to a stop, Libby noticed that Chuck was driving the VW Beetle. Jane walked over and bent over, placing her hands on the window to talk to him.

"Is that Chuck?" asked Maddie.

"Yeah! I wonder why he’s here?" asked Libby. "Hopefully he wants to beg forgiveness." The two adults led the little girls away from the couple to give them some time to talk.

"Wow, that’s a good sign," breathed Libby. Maddie agreed.

They stayed in the same area so they could keep an eye on the car but gave them privacy just the same. Every once in a while, Jane appeared to laugh, so Libby thought the conversation was heading in the right direction. Christy and Debby got off their bikes to pick the pink flowers off of the azalea bushes growing alongside the road.

When the Bennet Girls headed inside later that afternoon, they were accompanied by a relieved-looking Chuck. After leaving the couple be for an hour, Libby went to join them in the living room. She wanted so badly to inquire about the past week, but didn’t know what to ask him.

At last, Chuck turned to her. "So, did you have a nice trip?"

Libby rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and I brought you a souvenir." She presented her knees, hands, and feet as examples. "Keith and Carol told you about it?"

Chuck grinned. "Nope, Carol didn’t say a word. Keith was pretty worried about you. I said I’d come over today and check how you were doing. He thinks you’re mad at him."

Libby’s jaw dropped. "Me? Mad? Why?"

Chuck held his hands out, making a pushing away motion. "Woah, baby, I don’t know. He said you seemed angry when you saw him yesterday, that’s all I know. He tried to call you Friday…"

"Friday night? We were out Friday night."

"Yeah, well, he needed a ride from the airport yesterday morning. He thought you’d be down for that, but he had to settle for my sis picking him up."

It all made sense! "Chuck, is he home now?"

Chuck nodded. "He’s catching up on some work."

She jumped up. "OK, y’all, I’m going to call him. I want to get this straightened out. Chuck, it is nice to see you again. Drop by anytime."

"Take care, Libs."

Libby quickly dialed the seven digit number she had committed to memory. She realized that she had missed him more than expected. As the phone rang on the other end, her heart raced.

"Yo," a deep voice with an Italian accent answered.

"Um, Guido? Hi, this is Libby. Is Keith around?"

Guido made a grunting sound. "Naw, he ran up to da store. You wanna call back later?"

Libby’s lips scrunched off to the side. "Yeah, I’ll try back later. Have a good day, Guido."

"You, too." He hung up.

She stalked back into the living room. "Rats, he wasn’t there."

The couple were now watching television, and Libby noticed they were even holding hands. She couldn’t wait to ask Jane later what they had talked about.

Chuck didn’t leave until after Libby had gone to bed. She had not called Keith; she figured she would call him the next day.

Libby swore. She had practically broken her ankle when her foot slipped on the stairs, but had caught the handrail just in time to avoid a nasty spill (her wrist, specifically, caught the handrail, and she now rubbed the spot where she could tell she’d have a big bruise). Now, as she looked out the front door of the Orlando Sentinel office, rain poured off the awning to the sidewalk and flooded gutter below.

Florida weather, Libby thought, as she opened the door and made a dash for her car with her purse above her head. The summer weather’s starting, when it’s always sweltering throughout the morning, and then storming in the afternoon. She deftly opened the door, threw her purse in, and heaved her body in, landing in the driver’s seat in a perfect sitting position, all in one motion.

She slammed the door and stuck the key in the ignition. She hated driving when she was soaking wet. It always felt as if her feet would slip off the pedals, and she was squishing in the seat.

Libby pulled the paper out of her purse and looked at the directions. They had gotten a little wet, and the ink was slightly fuzzy. She drove off toward Colonial Drive, squinting at the directions.

She knew she had to drive a few miles before coming to the road she needed to turn on, so she put the directions on the seat and concentrated on the road. Her windshield wipers slip-slopped as they went back and forth. As she noticed a yellow light up ahead, she pushed on the brakes, only to find her car hydroplaning frightfully toward the car in front of her. Desperate, she pumped the brakes, but could not slow down in time and her car crashed into the bumper.

She sat for a moment, dizzy and nauseated. Oh my gosh, this will count as my fault, was her first thought. Then she comprehended that there were people in the car in front of her, and she ought to check on them. She turned her hazards on, and got out in the pouring rain to look.

Keith was surveying the damage to the back of his leased Cadillac. "@^$#, Libby! Are you all right?" he asked, concerned.

Libby felt a wealth of emotions well up inside her. First, she was relieved that Keith was all right. Second, she was annoyed that she had hit Keith, of all people. Third, she felt embarrassed that she had not been able to stop in time. It was a little too much to express all at once, so she lamely said, "Yeah. Are you OK?"

He put his hands on her shoulders and bent over, looking into her eyes. "Does your neck hurt?" He gently rubbed her neck, water pouring over his fingers.

She shook her head, not knowing if she had started crying or if the rain was just washing over her face. "Keith, I’m so sorry. I tried to stop…"

"Come on. Get in the car." Keith steered her into the back seat of his Cadillac. It felt good to get out of the rain. "It’s OK! This is a rental car. And you have insurance, right?" Libby sniffed. He put his finger under her chin and looked at her intensely. "It’s not really bad damage, Lib. It’s all right. Your hood is messed up but it can be fixed. All that matters is that neither of us got hurt." He leaned over the seat and got her a napkin from a fast food restaurant. She couldn’t help but notice his well-rounded butt as he reached. When he handed her the napkin, she dabbed at her eyes with it.

"Keith, it’s just been a hard week. I’m so tired." She glanced back at her car, which still had the headlights on and the hazards flashing. "Do we need to file a police report?"

"I don’t know. I don’t think the damage is bad enough." He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and looked for the temporary insurance card. A squashed boiled peanut fell out onto the floor. "How did that get in there?" he wondered. "It must be left over from when we went to the Crash-O-Rama. Anyway, we could head to my house. It’s only about five minutes away and we could call them. Do you have your insurance card?"

Libby had left her purse in her car. "Um, it’s in my car. Oh, shoot, I’ll have to call my appointment and let them know I’ll be late." Then his words registered in her head. "You have a house? Your own house?"

"Yeah, I’m renting a house in College Park. OK, you get in your car and let’s make sure it starts so you can follow me there."

They got out into the pouring rain and ran, hunched over, back to Libby’s Maverick. She got into the driver’s seat and started it back up; there was no hesitation.

"All right, leave your hazards on and follow me. We’ll go up Bumby and head down Virginia."

They caravanned through the Orlando streets with their hazards flashing. They pulled up into the driveway of a small white house. It was typical of other College Park houses because it looked as if it had been built earlier in the century, but very sturdy.

They ran to the front door and Keith unlocked it. He had her wait in the foyer while he ran for towels, and they stood for a moment, relishing the warm, dry material soaking up their wetness.

"I know I want to change out of these clothes. Do you want to borrow something, and I can throw your stuff in the dryer?"

Libby smiled half-heartedly. "I’m sure nothing of yours would fit me."

"I’ve got a robe you can borrow. And some sweatpants. No hairdryer, though."

His attention warmed her heart. "That sounds lovely. Where can I change?"

He showed her to a small bathroom, and immediately brought her the robe and sweatpants, along with some rather worn but comfortable socks. She felt odd changing into Keith Darcy’s clothes, in his bathroom, with no underwear, in the middle of the day, but knew her only other choice was to sit around in cold, damp clothes.

When she came out, wrapping the towel securely around her hair, Keith was on the phone with the insurance company. He had been placed on hold, and was turning on the radio, which was on the console next to the phone.

Libby looked around. The phone, radio, and television were the only gadgets set up in the rather small living room, with many boxes lying around unpacked. The furniture looked as if it had come with the house. She settled herself on the green-and-yellow flowered couch and waited for him to finish. She fished her insurance card out of her purse and placed it on the coffee table.

When the representative returned, she assured him that he needed to contact Libby’s insurance company. He dialed the phone for her, and she described the accident to the representative. She had to give many details and numbers, and when she was finished she looked over at Keith.

He was sitting on the couch, arms draped over the back, staring at her. She was overcome by his wet curls, tight tee shirt, and shadow of stubble beginning to creep over his handsome jaw line. As she gazed at him, one of her favorite songs began to play on the radio.

Hello, it’s me

I’ve thought about us for a long, long time

Maybe I think too much but something’s wrong

There’s something here doesn’t last too long

Maybe I shouldn’t think of you as mine.

Libby walked over to him on the couch and sat down next to him. He reached out and stroked her face. She pulled the towel out of her hair and set it next to her.

Seeing you,

Or seeing anything as much as I do you

I take for granted that you’re always there

I take for granted that you just don’t care

Sometimes I can’t help seeing all the way through.

Keith grasped her face in both of his hands and kissed her, kissed her deeply and passionately.

It’s important to me that you know you are free

‘Cause I never want to make you change for me.

Think of me,

You know that I’d be with you if I could

I’ll come around to see you once in a while,

Or if I ever need a reason to smile

And spend the night if you think I should.*

Still kissing, Keith pulled her up and led her, groping their way down the hall. They shut the door behind them.

*Hello It's Me by Todd Rundgren

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