WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 16 – “Now, what can I do for you?” Bill Shaw asked, as he, Tom Spence, Connie Wright, and four other men and women, also station employees, all settled into the comfortable chairs around their conference room table. Eight color monitors embedded in one of the walls kept their own signal and those of their main competitors in view constantly but silently during their discussion.
“Bill, the six of us have talked among ourselves, watched the promotion videos, and, frankly, prayed about ‘911 Live.’ Of course you know that Connie and I rode along on the test run, with you and Janet. After all this thought, observation, and contemplation, we feel more strongly than ever that this show is totally inappropriate for viewing in our audience's homes, particularly at a time when it might lead to staged acts of violence for the sake of television when so many children will probably be watching. We are here to formally ask you to cancel the show in our city, or at least to tape it for rebroadcast at 11:30, after the news.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes.”
“And if I won't do either one?”
“Then the six of us, and perhaps others, will resign from our positions.”
“I see. Could you please tell me what gives the six of you the right to decide what's best for our audience to see at 7:30 on Friday evenings?”
“That's obviously not a job which belongs to any of us, formally. But common sense and simple decency tell us that you don't bring unedited violence and mayhem into people's living rooms—nor do you set up a weekly stage for deranged people to parade their worst fantasies in front of a national audience.”
“That may be what you keepers of our moral code think, but the rest of the country can't wait. I thought we might be discussing this subject, so I brought the reports from the preview tests run on sample audiences, using the same videos, I might add, in which you participated. Here,” he said, sliding the reports down the table towards Tom. “The viewers loved it. Network says this will be one of the hottest—if not the hottest—shows of the fall season. It starts in a month, in early September. And you want me to kill it? To call Network and say that we're too squeamish here in this city to view the truth? That we want to censor ourselves? Come on, guys. Are you crazy?”
“Bill, Network should never have come up with this,” Connie picked up for Tom. “Of course people will say they like it. So long as it's other people's problems and crashes and deaths we're broadcasting live. But what about the victims? Some things are not decided by majority vote, but by what is simply right.”
“And who decides what's right, if not the majority?”
“Well, a good place to start is Scripture. Have you ever heard of the Golden Rule? It's pretty useful. Would you want to watch your own child burn to death on television, Bill?”
“Of course not…but I guess if it did happen, God forbid, and it was picked up by the show, I'd understand.”
“Come on, Bill,” Tom said. “You might understand, but would you like it? And what about other people?”
“Look, we're not getting anywhere,” Bill cut him off. “I'm not going to buck Network, and I'm not going to tape the show and rebroadcast it. It's called ‘911 Live,’ and live it's going to be. So if that's too much for you, you'll just have to resign. By the way, where does Janet stand in all of this?”
“You should ask her yourself, but I don't think she is prepared to resign, although she hates the show,” Tom said.
“Well, good. I hate some of our other shows, but I'm not resigning either. Now, anything else? Let me know what you finally decide. Meeting adjourned.” And without any attempt at further reconciliation, Bill rose and left by the side door.
“Bruce, this is Richard. I've got good news. Marty called this morning and said the tax people told him they'll have the estate wrapped up by the end of August. So he suggested that we go ahead and schedule our closing for early in September, either just before or after Labor Day, in three to four weeks.”
“Sounds great, Richard. And none too soon. We can obviously put the full million to work, and the Fairchild stock seems, for the moment at least, to be holding steady at around 25.”
“Well, start updating your closing exhibits, like the accounts payable and receivable, and we'll start working with Marty's law firm to generate the closing documents.”
“Go easy on us, Richard,” McKinney half-joked, thinking about the probable legal fees.
“Always, Bruce. You know that.”
That evening Richard had dinner at Kristen's apartment. He had already spent two nights there since Janet and the kids had left. He had mentioned to Nancy Bryant on Saturday, as they watched Janet pull down the driveway, that he had some touchy contracts in the works and might have to go out of town at any moment, so she should not worry if he were away. He promised to call whenever he wouldn't be there so she could check the house.
“That's fine, Richard,” Nancy had said. “Whatever Tom and I can do while Janet's away, just let us know. But we won't be much help next weekend because we're planning a trip to the mountain house. Would you like to come?”
Richard had graciously declined, saying that this was his one annual opportunity to really catch up on his work and his reading.
Now he and Kristen were enjoying a late dinner on her twelfth-floor balcony. There was a spectacular view of the city below them in the dark. This was like a dream to Richard, sipping white wine with this beautiful woman, looking out at all the lights, wondering what he had done to rate so much happiness. The voices were really spinning and had been since Saturday. He recognized that when he was with Janet, he thought his life should remain with her. But when he was with Kristen, he received such an ego stroking that he could—maybe—imagine leaving Janet for this younger woman. But then he thought of the kids and Janet's love for him, and it all got so balled up that the loudest voice told him just not to think about it, especially not during these ten days, when he and Kristen were virtually honeymooners in their own city.
She handed him some more pasta across the small table, not minding that the motion opened her house coat. The light breeze caught her hair. Richard was in heaven, he told himself.
“So, are you happy?” she asked.
“Are you kidding? I've never been happier.”
“Me, too. You're a great man Richard. I love you very much.” Smiling, she leaned across again, with the same effect, and asked, “Now when do I get to spend the night at your place?”
“Well, I almost hate to risk it, because of the neighbors, but I guess it would be kind of fun. Do you really want to?”
“Absolutely. I want to see what this Janet person gets to see. I want to feel like your wife, if only for one night. I love you so much. I'm terribly jealous of her, but I believe you when you say you are going to leave her. And I just want to be able to see all your things, as if we lived together already.”
“OK. A weekday would be very tricky. But our closest neighbors, the Bryants, are going to their mountain house this weekend, so we ought to be able to spend Friday night, and maybe Saturday night, at the house. But we'll have to keep the drapes facing the street closed. I don't think that anyone is close enough to see on the other sides.”
“Great. So we'll have dinner out on Friday night and then ‘sneak’ me into your house after it's dark?”
“Sounds good to me. I can't wait to see you in our big jacuzzi tub.” He held up his glass for a toast.
“And you with me,” she smiled, as their glasses met.
“Janet, I hate to call you while you're on vacation,” she heard Bill Shaw's voice in the handset, “but I think that six or seven of our staff may resign over this ridiculous ‘911 Live’ thing, and I just want to hear from you exactly where you stand.”
Janet looked out of the big picture window in her parents’ farmhouse living room, across the gently rolling Vermont countryside, in the direction of Lake Champlain. Bill's voice and the awful events of that one night seemed out of place, imposed on so much natural beauty. Janet paused, shifting in her mind back to television programming and out of the peace and quiet of the last several days.
“Are you there? Good. I mean, Janet, if you were thinking about resigning, I might have to reconsider this. But these people are just overreacting to almost nothing.”
Janet thought, OK, Bill, if you mean that, then you owe me one. She finally said, “Bill, I think that ‘911 Live’ stinks. It ought to be thrown in the trash. But I'm a team player, and I'm not going to resign over this. I do think we at the local level should have more input at Network on potentially controversial shows. And I hope ‘911 Live’ doesn't make it. I know that's a terrible thing for the head of your programming department to say, but you asked me, so I'm telling you.”
Bill laughed. “Hey, that's fair. We all have our opinions. And I like your idea on the local input. If I propose to Network that they set up an affiliate commission to do just that, would you like to help me get it started and be our first representative?”
Another pause. “Yes, sure. Anything to weed out these problems before they blow up in our collective faces.”
“And, Janet, if by some chance I need you to talk to the press or to anyone else about the show and about why you're not resigning, can I count on you? Be completely honest, of course, but let them know why you're staying. Will that be OK?”
“I guess so, as long as I can be truthful.”
“Sure, sure—no problem at all. Thanks, Janet. Enjoy your well earned vacation. And I won't forget your support when it's time for your annual review and salary discussion. See you in ten days.”
You better remember, Janet thought, as she hung up the phone and went to rejoin Susan, Tommy, and her mother, who were waiting in the car for their annual day trip to Montreal.
“Everybody ready?” Janet asked, as she opened the driver's door to their minivan.
“Yes, sure,” said her mother, who had a shopping list of possible Christmas presents to look for. “I've got my sweater in case it gets cool and my heart pills, in case I need them.”
At the mention of pills, Susan sat up. “Oh, shoot, I forgot my camera…I'll be right back,” and she was out the door before anyone could argue.
She took the inside stairs to the second floor two at a time, flung open her bedroom door, and reached under the books and magazines inside her travel bag. There she found her new pack of birth control pills; she had been taking one pill every morning since Sunday. She carefully removed a pill, replaced the compact in her bag, and went into the bathroom. Smiling, she lifted a glass of water to the mirror and said to herself, as she swallowed the pill, “Here's looking at you, Drew.” Then she grabbed her camera and vaulted down the stairs and back into the car.
* * *
FRIDAY, AUGUST 18 – “You know, as much as I love you, I think there's an element of second childhood in our relationship,” Richard laughed as he turned his car down Devon Drive on Friday night. “OK, this is it, get down.” He reached over and brought her head into his lap so that she would not be seen in his car by any of the neighbors.
“An interesting place to hide,” she smiled, as he turned into his own driveway and operated the garage door opener. There were a few lights on in the Bryants’ home, but they were the lights which they left on whenever they were away. Because their driveways and garages faced each other, the Bryants’ home was the only one with a clear view of rooms in the Sullivans’ house, primarily the kitchen and breakfast room. The view to and from the other neighbors’ homes was obscured by distance or by foliage. But Richard had closed the front drapes before leaving for work that morning, just to be sure.
With the garage door safely down, he smiled again and said, “Later…this is what you came to see!” Kristen sat up and pulled her overnight bag out of the back seat. She followed Richard in through the small entranceway at the back of the kitchen.
“So, this is what a Richard and Janet Sullivan house looks like,” Kristen said as she stood in the center of the kitchen and slowly turned around. “Nice kitchen. Very homey. Pictures of the kids on the walls. Let's see more!”
Richard led her on a tour of the entire home, through every room. Kristen was impressed by its simple charm and by the understated but high quality in which it was decorated. “I may wish that Janet would go away,” she told him, as they neared the end of the tour in the second floor master bedroom, “but I have to give her high marks for homemaking, particularly since she works.”
“I didn't bring you here to talk about Janet,” Richard said, holding her to him. “Didn't we decide that the plumbing in the jacuzzi tub needs checking?” Then they kissed in the middle of the floor, and she began undressing him.
Nepravel was delighted by Richard's childishness in bringing Kristen to his house. He had frankly not foreseen this fortuitous turn of events, but it played right into the general plan which they had been working on all these years with him. When the demon pulled himself away ninety minutes later, the well-scrubbed couple were sitting in their robes at the breakfast room table, having the desserts they had brought from the restaurant.
SATURDAY, AUGUST 19 – Richard and Kristen were just beginning to stir in the late morning when the doorbell rang. “Ohhhh,” Richard groaned, “Who can that be?” He walked quickly to the front window of the bedroom and looked down. It was Amy and Bobbie, standing on the front stoop, looking straight up at him!
“Kids. Susan's friends. Let me go see what they want. I thought Amy was out of town with her parents. I hope that everything's OK. Please stay up here, out of sight and hearing,” Richard whispered, as he put on his robe and started down the stairs.
“I'll slide down the bannister buck naked in five minutes, so start timing,” she laughed after him.
Richard ran his hand through his hair on the way past the mirror in the hall, looked out through the glass by the door, smiled, and opened the front door.
“Hi, Mr. Sullivan,” Amy smiled back. “How are you?”
“Just fine, ladies. I'm afraid I got in late from the office and was sleeping in, but I had just stirred when you rang the doorbell. What's up? You know Susan's gone.”
“Yes, that's why we're here. We'll be spending the night at Bobbie's tonight,” Amy said, “and I thought we might miss you with all your work this week. Last night at my house we each wrote a letter to Susan. Would you mind taking them with you when you leave for Vermont this week? And here's your morning paper too.”
“Uh, sure, sure.” He took the letters and the paper from their outstretched hands. “You were at your house last night, Amy? I thought you went to the mountain house.”
“My folks did,” Amy explained, “and Bobbie's folks are away, too. We didn't want to go, so they let us stay together—last night at our home, tonight at Bobbie's.”
“Were you home all night? Did you see anything unusual?” Richard's mind raced back to all of the time he and Kristen had spent together in the kitchen and breakfast room, in plain view of Amy's home, if she or Bobbie had looked.
“No, why, Mr. Sullivan? What do you mean?” Amy asked.
Richard looked closely and could detect no duplicity in either of their expressions. “Well, nothing really. I just meant that you were alone. You should have called me.”
The two girls smiled. “Oh, thanks a lot. We were OK. We rented a movie and then talked on the phone in my room most of the night. Everything was fine. And tonight we'll be at Bobbie's.” They turned and walked down the front steps. “Have a nice weekend, Mr. Sullivan, and tell Susan and Tommy hello for us when you see them. Goodbye.” They waved to him.
“Goodbye, girls. I'll give these letters to Susan. See you next Sunday, when we get home.”
Richard felt like he had just dodged a bullet. He closed the door, put the letters on the hall table, poured two coffees in the kitchen, walked up to his room, and handed Kristen a mug. “That was close,” he said, taking off his robe and joining her on the bed with the paper. “They were next door all night. We're lucky they never saw us. That would have been real easy to explain!” He managed a small laugh, the tension starting to ebb.
“Why, sure,” she smiled mischievously, exaggerating her southern accent again, as she took the paper out of his hand, “your cowgirl niece from Texas showed up unexpectedly, and all she wanted to do was ride the horsey…”
Nepravel, circling through, smiled as well. “Amy and Bobbie didn't see you, Richard, because it was not time…Not quite time…but soon!”
That Saturday night, at Amy's insistence, she and Jay double dated with Bobbie and Thomas. “I want to see what you two do!” Amy had told Bobbie, smiling, but also quite seriously curious.
Ever since the previous weekend, from the slumber party to the youth group to the service, Amy had been thinking about what she had seen and heard. She was attracted by these Christian people and their behavior, and she was curious about their beliefs, which seemed to be so strong and confident. So she went to church again with the Merediths on the Sunday after Susan left for Vermont and arranged this weekend to be as much a repeat of the previous two as she could.
Jay was a little on edge, knowing that this particular double date would keep them off the cul-de-sac again. Amy had not let him park there since the slumber party two weeks before. And he knew that these kids were somehow indirectly responsible for Amy's new “go slow” attitude. He obviously didn't appreciate it, and he was so desperate for time with Amy that he had even agreed to go to church with her on Sunday! I must be crazy, he thought.
But whatever the teenagers felt, Nepravel was furious. He had heard through Balzor that Susan was in good shape, out of town and taking her pills. But Amy was another matter. He and Zloy had been pulling out all the stops in their repertoire of voices, but she was just hearing the Word too much. And reading it in that blasted Bible Glenn had given her! She was actually reading the Gospel of John in the morning and at night. The demons were appalled, because they knew the typical result.
When they tried Unworthy on her, it almost backfired. She started to think about the abortion and the prayers of the young people, and she considered the possibility that she had actually killed a living baby, part of God's creation. As sometimes happened with Unworthy, when people really hit bottom, they stop defending themselves, and began looking for help. Amy was almost there, so Pride would not be much help in her case, either. Zloy and Nepravel therefore decided to back off and to stick with Doubt and Confusion.
They played up the questions in her mind about how real this could all be, with people actually experiencing this power. How could that be? Luckily, a Christian day school counselor was indicted that week for child abuse, and a prominent married pastor admitted openly to an affair with his secretary of fourteen years. They played these images in front of Amy as often as possible, trying to persuade her that these Christians, like Bobbie and the rest, were basically hypocrites. But unfortunately for the demons, Amy had Bobbie right there, and Amy knew that Bobbie was no hypocrite. So it was a nip and tuck battle for Amy's soul, which could go either way, and Balzor watched the events from his perch over their sector.
The double date was superbly low key, and Amy had to admit she actually had a lot of fun, knowing that the sexual “maneuver” was not even going to come up that night. Then the youth group and the service at Morningside were as powerful as the previous two weeks, and even Jay seemed moved by the strong testimony of a converted drug dealer/hit man. Amy was still feeling her way, checking out everyone involved, listening a little to Doubt, not quite ready to make a commitment, but she obviously liked what she saw in the kids and in the adults associated with Morningside. And she wanted to see more.
THURSDAY, AUGUST 24 – Early Thursday morning Richard caught a flight with connections to put him into Burlington at 1:00 that afternoon. Janet, Susan, and Tommy were waiting for him, tanned and looking very happy. There were hugs all around, and since he had only his overnight bag, they went directly to the van.
During the ride to Janet's parents’ home, Susan and Tommy told Richard all about the latest news with the Vermont friends they kept up with every summer. There were two families, the Battens and the Wildes, with farms and lots of kids on either side of Janet's parents’, and these children enjoyed the Sullivans’ visit every summer as well. Tommy and Susan also told their father about the new horse they both rode almost every day. The weather had been great, and Richard noted that Janet looked really good, having benefited from plenty of rest and outdoor activities.
“Everything is fine back home,” he announced, “and Susan, here are letters for you from Amy and Bobbie. They brought them over on Saturday.” Susan opened them and began reading.
After a huge meal that night, the four adults sat together on the porch and discussed topics ranging from family members to national politics. Richard enjoyed Janet's parents and their simple but dedicated lifestyle as working dairy farmers. It was a world totally foreign to his own experience, except on these visits. But he understood hard work and could see the results every year. He also understood getting up at 4:00 every morning, with hardly a break, and he respected his parents-in-law for their single-minded dedication to all that had to be done on their farm.
While the adults talked on the porch, Tommy watched television alone and reflected on a singular experience of that afternoon. After bringing his dad to his grandparents’ home, he took off on his bike for the Battens’ farm. Ever since they had been coming to Vermont, Tommy had played with Caroline Batten, who was his age, along with her older and younger brothers. Caroline had always been a tomboy, wearing her blonde hair in pigtails and hitting a baseball as far as any of the boys. But something had happened to her in the past year. Tommy barely recognized her when they arrived. She was rounder and curvy and even seemed to walk differently. It occurred to Tommy on their second day there that Caroline was simply beautiful. When she smiled at him, he felt a strange stiffness in his chest.
Then today, when he arrived at the Battens’ farm, he found only Caroline and her mother at home. “Come on, Tommy, let's go feed the chickens,” Caroline suggested, as she bounded out the kitchen door. Tommy enjoyed all the farm chores, since he only had to do them for two weeks, and he liked to help. So they started off down the short gravel road which led to the chickens’ half of an old barn.
Once out of sight behind the barn, as they came close together to open the gate, Caroline said, “I hate it that you already have to go home on Saturday.” And then she leaned over and kissed him. Tommy had to steady himself on the gate, he was so surprised. This wonderful, beautiful girl, whom he had known every summer of his life, must like him! She kissed him!
He had no idea what to do. So in self-defense, he smiled and said, “I hate it, too. And you sure are beautiful, Caroline.” And he kissed her back, tentatively putting a hand on her shoulder. For the next five minutes, they kissed and hugged, standing behind the barn. Then they heard her father's tractor coming and had to return to the chores. But Tommy was not sure that his bike wheels ever touched the ground on the way back to his grandparents’ house that afternoon. And now, as he sat in front of the television, he was thinking about Caroline, and what this all meant.
Susan, who had left the porch, sat in a big armchair in her room and reread her two letters. Both Bobbie and Amy recounted their activities during the first week of Susan's vacation. But then, almost as if they had planned it, both letters urged her to go slow with the birth control pills. Amy's letter was the more remarkable. She wrote that she had been back to Bobbie's church, and that she was rethinking many things, including her “physical relationship” with Jay. Amy admonished her not to begin taking the pill and not to become physically involved with Drew.
The second time through these letters made Susan even more angry than the first time. “Wonderful advice from girls who hardly even know Drew, and certainly don't know him the way I do!” a voice told her, as she thought of Drew and imagined how far away he was. “Bobbie has her God to keep her happy—at least she sure likes to tell us so—and Amy hops into bed with a college guy she hardly knows—probably two—has an abortion, and then tries to tell me to go slow!”
Almost before she could think it, a voice reminded her that she and Drew had known each other for a year and had been dating for several months. They had expressed their love for each other. Drew was a great guy, and she was not going to get pregnant. So why not express her love in the way God—or Nature, or someone—had provided? And, the voice told her, she certainly didn't need Amy and Bobbie to be her new moral policewomen!
* * *
Later, Richard lay in bed next to Janet as she slept, listening to her breathing and to the total silence of the Vermont night. As often happened to him in settings like this, he wondered what it would be like to give up his law practice in the big city and to move to a smaller city or town. Not Vermont, probably, but one of the towns within a couple of hours of their city. What sort of a life would they have? Could he earn a living? Would there still be a “rat race”? Or would he come home at five in the afternoon and play tennis with Susan or baseball with Tommy? How would the kids grow up differently? Would it be better…or boring?
As he reflected on the possibilities, a voice reminded him that Susan and Tommy would be gone to college in a few years. So a home in a small town would be just as empty as a home in the city. Whatever the kids were going to be was pretty much set. There was no reason to think about moving when they had so many friends and opportunities where they were. As he rose up on one elbow and looked across the dark but peaceful countryside outside the second floor window, he felt a distant sadness, as if the choices he made twenty years ago were now unfolding before his eyes, and he was powerless to stop them. But maybe if they moved, there could be a different ending…
SATURDAY, AUGUST 26 – On Saturday morning they packed the minivan for the trip home, and everyone said a tearful goodbye. “Please fly down for Christmas,” Janet told her mother.
“Sure wish you could stay another day and go to church with us tomorrow,” Janet's father told Richard, as he did every year.
“It's just too far to drive in one day.” Richard smiled and thanked him, as he also did every year. Susan and her parents were surprised to see Caroline Batten there so early in the morning to say goodbye to Tommy. This was a new and unexpected development, but the three of them had the good taste not to press Tommy about her on their trip home.
SUNDAY, AUGUST 27 – Late Sunday afternoon the Sullivans arrived home. Amy and her parents heard them drive in next door and came out to help them unpack. Tommy was soon off for Brent's house, and the two girls went up to Susan's room to look at her photographs from the vacation. Nancy talked with Janet while she unloaded the laundry.
Tom went into his garage and returned. “Richard, I found these tools and your jumper cables and bolt cutter up at our mountain house. Remember when I borrowed all of these during our construction?”
“Yea, sure. Here, just put them in the trunk of my car for now,” Richard said, tossing Tom his keys, as he gathered a load from the minivan. “I'll sort through all of them later, and at least I'll have the cables if I need them.”
Upstairs, Amy and Susan sat on her bed while Susan called Drew to let him know that they had arrived home safely. “Yes, sure, I don't see why not. Give me a little while to get cleaned up. Come over about 6:30. I love you.” And Susan hung up the phone.
“Drew asked me out to dinner,” Susan smiled at Amy. “How are you and Jay?”
“He's fine. We went to a movie last night. But I've put my foot down about going slow for now, and he doesn't like it.”
“Why did you do that? I read your letter, but I don't really understand.”
“Well, I've gone to Bobbie's church four Sundays in a row now, counting this morning. Every time I've attended both the youth group and the service, like you did. I don't know, it's like something Glenn said last week. Like I never realized I was thirsty, but suddenly I'm drinking water, and I like it. I don't think I've really changed, maybe, but they're challenging me to think about a lot of stuff, and until I get it figured out, I told Jay I don't want to complicate things even more with sex.”
“Well I'm glad for you. And you've obviously had more experiences than I have. But Drew and I love each other, and I'm seventeen, and I'm ready to share that love in any way he wants,” Susan said, feeling more certain of herself as she heard her own words. She began to unbutton her shirt, to take a shower.
“Mom,” she called downstairs, “Drew and I are going out tonight, so don't count me in for dinner.”
“Susan,” Amy said, getting up to leave, “I know how stupid this sounds, coming from me, after what I've done, and how you've helped me in the past few months. But having sex is powerful. Just like our parents and teachers have told us, it changes things. Besides babies and diseases, which I know you don't expect,” Amy raised her hand as Susan turned to say something, “there's just the change in the relationship itself. I can't really explain it, but it happens. Once you've done it, you can't go back. I do know that. I just wish…”
“Look, thanks a lot,” Susan interrupted. “You're right. We've been through quite a bit. And in some ways I guess I'm jealous of your experiences. People are different, and Drew is not Billy or Jay. We love each other. I think our relationship will only get better. Now, I have to get ready. See you tomorrow.”
Three hours later, parked in the cul-de-sac, after a casual supper at Austin's, where they had caught up on the last two weeks’ news, Drew and Susan were now experiencing the pent-up emotion caused by their absence.
Susan pulled back from a long kiss and smiled up at Drew. “I've been taking the birth control pills, just like I promised. I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” Drew whispered back in her ear, hugging her.
“But I can't imagine making love in a car, Drew. What are we going to do?”
Drew thought for a moment. “I think I can rent a motel room over on the interstate, where no one will know us or ask questions. I can use a fictitious name, pay cash, and then come to get you. No one will ever know.”
“A motel room? Do you think you can?” She smiled, imagining how nice that would be. “But we couldn't spend the whole night.”
“I know. I'll pay up front in cash, and then we'll just leave in time to get home. It'll work. When…?” He smiled down at her.
“Well, since school starts on Thursday, and I have to work tomorrow night, what about Tuesday?”
“Sounds great to me.” Drew returned her smile. “I'll drive over and get the room and then pick you up about 6:30. If I have a problem, I'll call.”
Susan snuggled in close to him. “I can't wait. I love you so much. Drew, do you think we can apply to the same colleges this fall? Wouldn't it be great if we could spend four years together at school?”
That thought sounded like a prison term to Drew. But focusing more on Tuesday than on next fall, he hugged her tightly and said, “Yes, that would be fantastic.”
“Oh, and be sure to bring a condom,” she added. “I've been taking these pills, but it's only been two weeks, and I want to be real sure I don't get pregnant!”