Kitabı oku: «A Virgin River Novel», sayfa 3

Two

Mike Valenzuela was the Virgin River town constable and, as such, he spent a great deal of time driving the back mountain roads surrounding the town, taking in the lay of the land. It was important to know the people, the structures, the vehicles. There was no better way to identify something unusual. He got out of his Jeep and walked among trees and shrubs for a while, staying mostly out of sight. He came upon a half-buried semi-trailer and metal storage unit that he’d seen before and had been keeping an eye on. There was a generator between the building and the trailer and camouflage netting stretched over the tops, strung between the trees, which identified it as a cannabis operation, but he’d never seen any activity around it. Mike kept his distance—they were sometimes booby trapped.

This time he happened to see a vehicle departing, and he recognized it—a Ford truck, dark, tinted windows. The driver was known around these parts as an illegal grower.

This guy had been seen around here a few times in the past couple of years. The bills in his pocket were large and carried the stink of freshly cut marijuana. When Mel had barely arrived in Virgin River, he had hijacked her out to a trailer, to an illegal grow like this one, to deliver a woman in childbirth, in trouble. Not so long after, Jack’s cook Preacher’s wife, Paige, had been abducted by her abusive ex-husband, and this guy had stepped in, whopped him over the head and facilitated Paige’s rescue. But most significant, Mike had seen him just a few months ago meeting a Sheriff’s Department detective in an isolated location. It had been a sheer accident that Mike had seen them. But the two men had probably handpicked the place—Virgin River had a reputation as dope free—there weren’t any illegal growers nearby that Mike or anyone else knew about. It was a good place for a secret meeting.

Mike decided to check out the trailer. The guy had a relationship of some kind with a cop and Mike wanted to see what he had going on in there. From twenty feet away he could see that the padlock on the semi’s door was left unhitched. Sloppy, was his very first thought. He stepped slowly, carefully, listening for a click, a trip wire. One rule of thumb—growers want to protect their crop from other growers, but really do not want to hurt or kill anyone from law enforcement, not even lowly, nonofficially recognized town constables like Mike. It brings a barrage of cops down on the area, busting up everything that might have otherwise been missed or ignored.

But Mike saw nothing; no trip wires, so he slipped off the padlock and slowly opened the door. The place was almost empty. There were a few medium-size plants right inside the door, so few he could grow that number legally with a prescription and permit. But, all the equipment was there for a large grow—pots, irrigation tubing, lights, fertilizer. The guy obviously bought what a grower would need for a large operation, but there was no real crop. So, he looked like a grower, but he wasn’t growing.

Jesus, Mike thought. The guy was a narc. He was either undercover police or a confidential informant. He’d set up something to look like an illegal grow, but it was a ruse. There was only one reason to establish oneself as a grower when you weren’t—to search for other growers.

It took a long time to form even a nodding acquaintance with other growers, and even when they got friendly, they kept a safe distance unless they were doing business together, and they never showed each other their hidden grows. They spotted each other at the hardware store, the nursery, buying supplies, carrying around bags of chicken shit in the back of pickups. But they didn’t have dinner parties with each other at their grow-sites.

The other reality was that local law enforcement couldn’t keep up with the illegal crops; their resources and manpower were limited. They let a lot of cases slide when they were too small to make an impact, or to get a conviction. When a call came in about a hairdresser who was driving a Hummer and had a generator behind the house and a couple of windows blacked out, it was pretty obvious what she was doing, but the cops had bigger fish to fry—they were looking for over a thousand plants to press for a conviction or ten thousand plants to drive it into a federal crime, otherwise it was a waste of their precious time.

So—this guy, planting himself in the area, making himself known as an illegal grower…He must be looking for something. Mike slowly exited the trailer and once outside, looked around cautiously. Then he looked at the padlock. It had obviously been an oversight on the part of his buddy, the guy in the truck. If he didn’t think it would compromise his operation, he’d find him, tell him he understood what was going on and to be more careful. Instead he removed the lock and pocketed it. He’d think about all this for a while before taking any action.

Paul sat in a small Italian restaurant in Grants Pass, staring into a cup of coffee, waiting. He looked up to see Terri enter the restaurant and he frowned slightly; there was no reason not to be attracted to her. She was a beautiful, tenderhearted girl. She had a very attractive figure that would soon blossom with motherhood.

When they connected eyes, he smiled and began to rise. Yes, she was a lovely girl, but she just didn’t do to his blood pressure what Vanni did to him. The chemistry between them was nice, but it wasn’t explosive.

He held a chair out for her to sit down. “Everything all right, Paul?” she asked a bit nervously.

“Sure,” he said. “Fine. We haven’t talked since last week. I apologize for that—I meant to get in touch sooner.”

“That’s all right. What’s up?”

“I thought we should have a conversation. I think the shock and tears kept us from getting anything resolved the last time we saw each other.” He reached across the table and gave her hand a pat. “I don’t know how we could have avoided that.”

“Resolved?” she echoed.

“You haven’t really explained what you think I can do for you right now.”

“Well,” she said, “I just found out myself, so I haven’t given it much thought, either. I mean, the best-case scenario didn’t work out for me.”

He held his tongue, not willing to go there again, but he looked down uncomfortably. Even if things never worked out with Vanni, which was what he feared, he didn’t have the kind of passion for Terri that was required to take on marriage—it would rob them both. Yet, he was going to end up committing most of a lifetime to her because of the child. “How about insurance benefits? Financial obligations?”

“I have a good job, Paul. My benefits will see me through the pregnancy, though I haven’t told my boss yet. I don’t think that’s the kind of help I’m going to need.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Good,” she said. “Excellent.”

A waiter came to their table, offered menus, took drink orders, disappeared again.

“Go ahead,” Paul said. “Take a look, see what you feel like for lunch.”

“I’m, ah, not real hungry right now,” she said.

“Well, you have to eat, Terri. You’re supporting more than one body. One of them’s growing.” And then he smiled kindly. “I know—I’m a little nervous, too. I think we’re going to have to try to get past the jitters if we’re going to make this work.”

“Sure,” she said, looking into her menu. She lifted it up so he couldn’t see her face and he noticed a movement behind the menu that suggested she wiped her eyes before lowering it again. “I’ll just have a salad,” she said. And then the waiter was beside them with water and iced tea.

“I’ll have lasagna,” Paul said. “And bread. And bring the lady a minestrone soup with her salad.” When the waiter had gone he said, “Don’t worry, Terri. This will get easier.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Have you told your parents yet?”

She looked down. “I told my mom. She and my dad are divorced and I haven’t had that much contact with him.” She looked up shyly. “She’d like to meet you sometime.”

“Sure,” he said, sitting back in his chair. “When we’ve had some time to sort things out a little, huh?” And she nodded. This woman was a far cry from the little pistol he’d met a year ago. She was subdued, self-conscious and submissive today. He didn’t know her well but, at the moment, it was as if he didn’t know her at all. As much as he wished this wasn’t happening, he couldn’t help but see it was harder for her than him. She’d been so good to him; he hated that he’d hurt her.

“Have you told your parents?”

He laughed a little. “No,” he said. “I think I might hold off on that a while.”

“Will they freak out?”

He chuckled again. “Oh, I think it’ll surprise them. In fact, maybe I should brush up on my CPR.”

“Ew,” she said, a hand going to her tummy.

Paul immediately reached for her other hand and held it supportively. “Terri, you don’t have to worry that they’d be a problem for you. My parents are real decent people. Even if they were thoroughly disappointed in me, they’d treat you and your child with kindness. Respect.”

“Our child,” she said softly after a moment of silence.

He was quiet, not responding to that. He might get there eventually, but he wasn’t there yet. He kept thinking of this as her baby or his baby but not their baby. “You’ve seen the doctor?”

“Just once, to confirm what I already knew. I’m not very far along, you know.”

He knew exactly how far along. Almost to the minute. “And you’re due…?”

“November. The twentieth.”

“Are you happy with the doctor?”

“She’s nice.” Terri shrugged. “She was recommended…”

To Paul’s great relief, the food arrived. He waited for Terri to take a couple of bites before he started on his; he found himself watching her to be sure she was eating. They sat in uncomfortable silence. After a few minutes, he pulled a card out of his shirt pocket, turned it over to be sure it was the right one and slid it across the table. “My home, work and cell phone numbers,” he said. “I have your home phone, but I don’t know where you work. Secretary, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “Legal secretary. I’m thinking about applying for a paralegal course.”

“Hey, that’s great,” he said.

“Well, I was thinking about that, before…”

He liked that she had goals for herself, something to look forward to, since he wasn’t giving her much in that department. And she would improve her earning potential, he thought. Because she was going to be a working mother. Or…Maybe she shouldn’t have to work. His head started to spin. “Listen, it’s hard to make long-term plans when you have a short-term complications, but if that’s something you really want to do, don’t give up on the idea. Not yet. Things always seem to work out the way they’re supposed to. You’d be surprised.”

“Right now it’s a little hard to figure things out. Things like that…”

“What other things have you concerned?” he asked.

“Well, I live in a one bedroom, upstairs apartment. It’s a nice apartment—you’ve been there. Single women like the upstairs—it’s safer. Fewer means of entry, for one thing. But single mothers probably have a hard time with things like that. Babies come with a lot of gear. You know?”

Stroller, diaper bag, car seat, swing, Port-a-Crib, etcetera. He’d spent years watching his brothers tromp into their parents’ house, hauling all the baby stuff. The stairs to her apartment were steep. She should live in a house, he thought. In a safe neighborhood. He thought he felt a migraine coming on. The first one of his life.

“I don’t have any savings,” she said. “I make a decent living, not a great one. My office has paid leave for six weeks and optional time off without pay up to six months. I already feel like six weeks isn’t enough. Not for a new baby. And then—what about child care? I haven’t even felt this baby move—and I’m already worried about leaving him with some stranger. Or her. Him or her.”

Paul smiled kindly. “Try not to worry about things like that yet, Terri. You’re not going to have to make those decisions alone. Don’t let it keep you up nights. I’ll be pitching in.”

“Pitching in? How?”

“Well, financially and, hopefully, with child care.”

“Helping me pay for childcare? Is that it?”

“And with actual child care,” he said, smiling.

“You thinking of sticking your mother with a baby?”

“I’m pretty good with babies,” he said. “I was thinking of having my time with him. Or her.”

“Oh,” she said. “Thanks. That’s nice of you.”

Nice of me, he thought shamefully. She was talking like she expected to go it alone if he wouldn’t marry her, and that almost made his cheeks flame. He had at least as much responsibility here as she did. She might’ve been lazy about those pills, but he’d used a condom he’d been carrying around for months, rubbing it thinner every time he slid into a chair. “I told you—you’re not in this all alone. Can you think of anything I can do to help right now?”

“To tell the truth, just having you show a little interest helps a lot. Moral support, you know.” And then for the first time since they sat down, she smiled.

“Ah,” he said. “There it is. I know you don’t think you have that much to smile about right now, especially where I’m concerned. I’ll do whatever I can. It’ll help if you tell me what you need.”

“Right now? I want my baby to have a father. A good father. I just need someone to care.”

“I care about what’s happening with you and the baby. I’m kind of clumsy with words, Terri. I might’ve been a little too shocked to give you the kind of comfort you needed when I first found out, I’m sorry about that. Here’s how I feel—I think it would be a mistake for us to try to make a marriage out of a very nice friendship, but if I’m having a child, I’m committed to the child. For life. I’ll do my part because I want to. You can rest easy about that.”

“How will your parents feel about that?” she asked.

“They’ll feel the same way,” he said. “Terri—I’m thirty-six. I’m past asking my parents for approval. What we’re going to have to do here is find a way to work together.” He swallowed. “We have to put the needs of the child first.”

She sighed. “God,” she said, tears sparkling in her eyes. “I never expected you to act like this. I thought you’d take off or deny it. But you’re a good man, Paul. A real good man…”

If I was worth a damn, you wouldn’t be unmarried and pregnant, he thought. “I’m sure I’ll fall short a lot, but I’m going to do my best.”

“Thanks,” she said. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

When their lunch was over, he walked her to her car and she hugged him. “Just having you nearby—that’s very reassuring,” she said. “I thought I’d never hear from you again. Sometimes this feels so lonely.” Then she looked up at him and said, “Although I might not have a husband—I feel like I have a partner. Thank you, Paul.”

“Um…Yeah. We’ll work together on this, make sure everything is covered…”

Her arms still around his waist, looking up at him with those large, sad eyes, she said, “Maybe I could make you dinner this weekend…”

He was shaking his head before she even finished. “We have to keep this in perspective, Terri. We’re going to be parents together, I guess. But that relationship we had, such as it was? We’re not going to have that relationship anymore. We can’t. It’ll only complicate a situation that’s already complicated.”

Her face fell. She looked down. “I see,” she said.

He put a finger under her chin, lifting her face so their eyes met. “We’re in this together, but we’re not a couple. We never were.”

She took a breath. “If I’m going to carry the baby, it would be nice if I also had some affection.”

He put a small kiss on her brow. “You have that. As the mother of my child.”

“You’re absolutely sure nothing could grow between us? As we have this baby together?”

“Terri, my intention is to be good to you and be a good father. But if there was something more between us, we both would have known before this, before now. I think what we can be is good friends, good parents. Let’s shoot for that, huh?”

“Sure,” she said with a sad smile. “Sure. That’s something, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, Terri. That’s all I have. And until that night I called, I think that’s all you had. Think about it—we never even had phone calls. We just weren’t that connected. Let’s move ahead. Let’s see if we can make this work for the child.”

“Then I guess it’ll have to be enough,” she said, pulling her arms from around him.

For the first time he thought, what if she takes this child away from me? What if she finds someone else, some guy, willing to be that husband and father? And it puts me in the way? I have to know more about this kind of thing, he thought. I have to know what I can do about this.

“That’s all I can ask.” He gave her shoulders a brief, friendly squeeze. “I’ll be in touch.”

Vanessa had almost every piece of clothing she owned spread out across the bed. She was trying to pack for a trip to Grants Pass to visit Matt’s parents and she wanted to look her best. She had asked her mother-in-law, Carol, if she would please invite Paul to dinner. She hadn’t seen him since the baby was born and she’d so like to get his attention. But when Vanessa looked in the mirror, she saw a waist that was still too thick, breasts too heavy for her tops and thighs that felt like tree trunks. She couldn’t get into any of her old clothes and she’d be damned if she’d wear maternity clothes. The baby was almost two months old.

Vanessa had always been sure of herself. Her mother had called her feisty, her father proclaimed her a handful, her best friends from the airline told her she was a fearless extrovert and counted on her to handle difficult situations with pilots or passengers. Matt had called her his fiery-haired vixen.

Around Carol, however, she lacked confidence. Carol was chic, perfect, successful and took self-assurance to the next level. Vanessa and Carol seemed to disagree on everything, and Carol managed to get her way at all times by wearing the most engaging smile. Carol Rutledge was possibly the only woman alive Vanessa had trouble standing up to. On top of that, Vanni felt she looked fat.

Frustrated, she pulled on a pair of jeans with an elastic waistband and her riding boots. She found her father in the great room. “Hey, Dad. Matt’s asleep and should be down for another hour or two. Can you listen for him while I take a short ride? I won’t be long.”

“Take your time,” he said, barely looking up from his book.

“Thanks.”

At least she was finally cleared to ride again. The exercise and glorious spring weather was good for her spirits. When she got to the stable, she noticed the door to the tack room was ajar. She heard something, hopefully not a mouse. She pushed the door open a bit further and saw her younger brother Tom sitting on the bench, paging through a book. “Whatcha doin?” she asked.

He jumped in surprise, slammed the book shut and hid it behind his back. His cheeks brightened and he looked like he wanted to die. She walked into the room and reached behind him, grabbing onto the book. She withdrew The Joy Of Sex.

“Is this mine?” she asked.

He shrugged.

“This is mine!” she said.

“Come on, Vanni. Be a sport, huh?”

“Where did you find this?”

“I had to clean out the garage for Dad,” he said.

“But this must have been packed up in my stuff,” she said. “You’re not, you know—using this to—You know.”

“What?” he asked, brows drawn together in confusion. Then he caught her meaning; she thought he was using the pictures to beat off. “No! Jesus, no!”

“Well, then what?”

He shrugged. “I was just a little curious. That’s all.”

She flipped through the pages. It was an old book, but quite graphic. “You and Brenda aren’t having enough joy?”

He frowned. Sometimes he hated his sister, and this was one of them. “No, if you must know.”

“She suggest a little homework?”

“Vanni, we haven’t done it, all right?”

Her head snapped up in surprise. She smiled wryly and lifted a brow. “Really?” she said, grinning.

He hated her. “Really,” he said.

“You’re a virgin?”

“Vanni, so help me—”

He was. He’d made it all the way to eighteen with his virginity intact? Whew, she thought. Either he wasn’t as motivated as most boys his age or he was awfully well mannered. “Hmm,” she said. And then it hit her—she and Dad were going to Grants Pass with the baby for the weekend. “Oh-oh.”

“Don’t start,” he warned her.

“You have a date this weekend, Tommy?” she asked him.

He put his head in his hands. “God, why couldn’t I have had a big brother…”

“I presume you’re totally covered?” she asked him.

“I swear, if you say anything to anyone, especially—”

“Are you?” she asked a little hotly.

He looked up at her, almost bored. “Ask yourself—does the general’s boy have the facts about sexual responsibility? Does he have a drawer full of rubbers and all the birth control information available to the entire U.S. Army? Does the kid know anything about STDs? You wanna give me a frickin’ break here? Who is your father, huh?”

“Yeah, okay,” she said. Dad probably started talking to him about this stuff when he was three. “I’ll give you that one.” She flipped through the pages. She held the book open, turned it around toward him and gave it back to him. “Read this page. Memorize this page. I’m going for a short ride.”

She saddled up and took one of the horses out on the trail along the river, thinking about how long it had been since she’d even anticipated making love. Matt left almost a year ago and didn’t come back. She envied Tom, and she was frankly very surprised he was still untouched.

Well, if they were going to do it, she hoped her little brother would do a decent job of it. Vanessa’s first time had been a waste of time. But hopefully Brenda would fare better—the page she had shown Tom was all about the clitoris.

Carol and Lance Rutledge had been down to Virgin River twice in the past few months. First, last December to bury their son on the general’s land, an event that was understandably painful. If it wasn’t bad enough that they’d lost their only son, they had nothing to say about where he’d be laid to rest, and Carol had been stiff and angry about the decisions she felt Vanessa had made alone.

The Rutledges came back right after the baby was born to see their first and what would be their only grandchild. Those visits had been tense until Carol softened toward the baby. Lance, however, was very like his son had been—laid-back, cuddly, humorous. Carol was cool; a well-decked and still sexy grandmother who said, “Ew,” when the baby spit up on her blouse.

Now that the baby was almost two months, Vanni and Walt were going to them for the first time. Vanessa had always hated these visits, even when Matt was alive. Lance Rutledge was so easy to get along with, so unflappable. And, as men will do, Matt and his dad had hung together during visits and either ignored or were oblivious to any discord between the women.

Vanni wasn’t the only one who had trouble getting along with Carol. She and Matt had laughed about how Carol blamed Paul for talking Matt into quitting college to join the Marine Corps. Paul had gone back to college and received his degree in engineering while Matt stayed with the Corps.

The Rutledge home was very large for only two people, up on a hill with a long driveway. Lance was an endodontist and Carol had been in real estate for many years and was a real mover and shaker in the business world of Grants Pass. They were certainly successful enough to retire, but they both enjoyed their work, social lives and vacations.

Carol Rutledge didn’t look her age. She was fit and trim with thick auburn hair that she kept short, manicured nails, a drop-dead wardrobe and, though this was supposed to be a secret, a woman who had benefited from a face-lift that made her look more a youthful fifty than sixty. Before pregnancy and childbirth, Vanni felt equal by comparison, but at the moment, breasts straining at her shirts, hips too wide and waistless, nails trimmed down short, she felt dowdy and insecure.

When they arrived, Lance grabbed the baby immediately, thrilled to be nuzzling him, while Carol stood beside him, giving the baby a few pats. Vanni wandered into the house, so large and richly decorated. Eventually she moved down the hall to peek into the room Matt had used as a teenager, looking at all the memorabilia. It was everywhere—pictures, letters from high school teams, trophies, posters, airplane models. It hadn’t been preserved, but restored, like a shrine. A small framed picture of the baby now rested on the bureau, as though Matt would be back directly. It almost made Vanni cry.

That evening, as Lance turned steaks on the grill with Walt and the women keeping him company on the deck, Vanni learned that Carol had at least one surprise in store for her. “I’ve invited another guest to dinner tomorrow night, Vanessa,” Carol told her. “A friend of ours—a young doctor I met through work. His name is Cameron and he’s just darling.”

“Carol, you’re not fixing me up, are you?”

“Of course not! But I didn’t think it was too soon for you to meet someone. If you two get along, maybe sometime in the future…”

“She’s fixing you up,” Lance said.

“That’s what it sounds like,” Walt agreed.

“Oh God,” Vanni said miserably.

“Stop it, all of you. We’ve had Cameron to dinner before, and he’s charming. I happen to like him.”

“But, Carol, Paul will be here, too.”

“I know, honey,” she said brightly. “I’m sure they’ll hit it off. I know if Matt were with us, he’d like Cameron.”

How could she do that so well? Make Vanni feel guilty, as though Matt would want her to meet this Cameron? Vanni’s pants immediately began to feel more snug, her belly rounder, her breasts bulkier and nails choppier. Not only would she look plump and awkward to Paul, but to two men. She tried to be ready for anything with Carol, but hadn’t counted on something like this, a new widow with a baby just two months old—and two bachelors at dinner. One of whom she had been missing. Missing so much.

“We should talk about what you’re going to do next, Vanessa,” Carol said smoothly. “With just the smallest interest in real estate, I could take you into our firm. Your hours would be flexible for the baby, the market is good right now and it would set you up for a successful career.” She beamed. “I could work alongside you until you get your sea legs.”

Vanni wanted to die. She’d rather have an ax firmly planted in her skull than work with Carol every day. “I’m…ah…afraid real estate doesn’t appeal to me much.”

“You can’t be thinking of flying again,” Carol said. “Really, I could help. At least give it a fair chance.”

“Thank you,” she said. “It’s too soon for me to think about that now. I’ll let you know.”

“Good girl,” Carol said, patting her knee and smiling.

Vanni was a long way from having Carol figured out. She seemed to be trying to be helpful, but she plowed through every polite, “No, thank you,” and did as she pleased. She’d made Vanni’s wedding a nightmare with her interference. Vanni’s mother had been deceased only a short time, and Carol had wanted to step in and help in that role, but she took over. Carol had not liked the colors of the bridesmaids’ dresses; she preferred coral to pale green. She thought that by getting a consensus from the bridesmaids and paying for the ones she liked, the problem was solved, but Vanni had hated them. When she had appealed to Matt, he had said, “What’s wrong with orange, or whatever that is? They look nice and the girls like them.”

“They clash with my hair!” Vanni had tearfully argued. “There will be pictures…”

“Look,” said Matt, the peacekeeper. “She doesn’t have a daughter—why not let her have her way about some small things?” So Vanni let it go and Carol changed the flowers from Vanni’s favorites of calla lilies to white roses and baby’s breath. She added a hundred names to her guest list and presided over the parties and wedding reception as though it was her wedding, cracking the whip over caterers and florists like an Egyptian pharaoh. “Try not to worry about little things,” Matt had said. “Really, she’s only trying to help. She just wants everything to be beautiful for us.” It left Vanni in the uncomfortable position of fighting it out with her future husband or future mother-in-law.

As for Saturday night’s dinner, Cameron arrived a good half hour before Paul for drinks. Vanni suspected Carol had told Cameron six and Paul six-thirty, and because of that, Vanni didn’t give Carol any credit at all for coming up with a perfectly nice man in her attempted setup.

But the man who stood before Vanessa had absolutely no excuse for being thirty-five and single. He was so good-looking, he could make a woman pee her pants. He was six feet with dark hair, heavy, expressive brows, sexy dimples in his cheeks when he smiled and teeth so white that they almost made you gasp when he grinned. And he grinned hugely when he met Vanessa.

“You’re a doctor, I’m told,” Vanni said.

“Uh-huh. Pediatrician,” he answered, and she thought—Carol has outdone herself. What is sexier than that? Gorgeous, hot and loves kids.

“And yet, you don’t have children?”

“I couldn’t work that in. But now that I can, all the good women seem to be taken. But hey, I still have time to father children. Don’t you think?” Grin.

Oh, yeah, she thought. He could probably father them like mad.

Carol directed them to a pair of chairs in the living room—soft comfortable chairs that faced each other at angles, separated by a side table, where they could sit and get to know each other. Walt and Lance resumed their positions on the deck after initial introductions so the couple that was not being fixed up—ha!—could have this intimate little session to themselves. Carol delivered them drinks and then pleaded business in the kitchen, leaving them alone.