"Flip is a mild word," Laura said. "He sent Bobby to a friend's house and was waiting with Mom when I got home."

"Oh boy."

"He wasn't pleased. I hadn't even done anything yet. Like I said, I was just curious." Laura's face took on a faraway look. "I had to sit there for almost two hours having a talk about sex with my parents."

"Oh man, that had to be awful."

"Yeah, Mom talking about standing and image while Dad paced around the room asking me over and over if it had anything to do with that incident at West Point." She shook her head. "Apparently he was of the school that all lesbians are that way because they've had bad experiences with men. They convinced themselves that it was just a phase I was going through until I moved in with Lisa."

"Was she your first, um"

"Lover?" Laura offered. "Yes. We lived together for about two months after graduation. After that the romance disappeared and she found me impossible to live with. Of course by then there was no denying it to my parents anymore. I think by then they'd accepted it." She leaned back in her chair. "So maybe that's part of why I'm so careful about everything being neat and orderly. Every once in a while Jenny will pull her therapist act on me and she says that's part of it." She turned her head to look at Crystal's watch. "What time is it?"

"Heading for one thirty."

"We'd better get going if we're going to get to the garage and the store and back before the boys get here."

"Oh. Yeah." Secretly Crystal breathed a sigh of relief that the conversation was over. Laura's recounting triggered memories that she'd rather not have had return. Stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray, she followed Laura inside. To her surprise, the table had been cleared. When did you have time

She then remembered that Laura had not followed her outside immediately. Can't let it go for even a minute, can you? she silently asked as she watched Laura head up the stairs. She walked over to the phone and called the garage to make sure her car was ready before going up to her own room to get her wallet and sneakers. Maybe we can stop at the ice cream place on Wilson.

Crystal leaned her elbow against the counter, resting her chin against her hand. "I would never have the patience for that." Laura glanced up from her task, sprinkling seasoning over the chicken breasts. "It's easy enough to follow the recipe." "Too many steps," she said, shifting so both forearms rested on the counter. "I prefer the open 'em up, toss 'em in the nuker and go kinda dinners."

"So I've seen." Laura placed the pan in the oven. "My freezer never saw a TV dinner before you moved in. Your stomach must be made of cast iron."

"I'm used to it. I grew up with TV dinners and frozen pizza."

Laura paused in her wiping of the counter. "You ate that a lot, huh?"

How did we get back to talking about me again? She shrugged. "I guess. Whenever we weren't having macaroni and cheese from a box, that is." Her eyes fell on the open recipe book. Reaching out, she pulled the book closer. "You know, I've seen these on television and at friend's houses but I don't think my mother ever had one." She flipped the page.

"You never cooked something nice for yourself?"

"It was cheaper to buy the pre-made stuff than to buy all the ingredients and make it from scratch." She was saved from further conversation by the doorbell.

"That'll be the boys," Laura said, folding the dishrag and draping it neatly over the faucet.

"I'll get it." Crystal went to the door and looked out the peephole, seeing only the distorted image of the man who rented her the apartment.

"Miss Sheridan!" the balding redhead exclaimed as the door was opened. Before she could react Crystal found herself caught in an enthusiastic hug. Peter stepped back, his hands gently squeezing her upper arms. "It's so good to see you again."

"Um, hi." Surprised by the greeting, it took all of her willpower not to jerk back out of his grasp. She forced a polite smile to her face and subtly stepped out of reach. She turned toward the open doorway and received another shock when she saw the hulking behemoth of a man standing before her. His bulky chest and bulging biceps strained the neatly pressed white shirt. Short blond hair refused to be tamed, cowlicks spiking up on both the back and sides. His rounded face and cheeks made him appear squinty but even so Crystal could easily see the bright blue of his eyes.

"Miss Sheridan, this is Michael.," Peter said sweetly. He took the covered dish out of his lover's hands and walked off to the kitchen.

Crystal found her hand clasped between two larger ones as Peter walked away, leaving her alone with the man easily twice her size. She couldn't decide if he looked more like a wrestler or a bodybuilder. The sheer size of the stranger was enough to get her heart pounding with an old fear and the urge to flee was almost too much. Then the giant opened his mouth.

"I'm pleased to meet you," his said, his voice almost as high as hers. "I'm Michael Swenson, Peter's lover."

"Hi." She tried to reconcile the boyish voice with the grown man standing before her. "Crystal."

"Well it's very nice to meet you, Crystal," he said, every word calming her innate fear. "You'll have to excuse Peter. Manners never were his thing." "Don't start," a voice called from the kitchen. "It's not my fault you don't pay attention."

The blond man tsked and rolled his eyes. "He thinks he tells me things," he whispered conspiratorially. Crystal couldn't help but smirk at his expression. "Four hours ago he tells me we're supposed to bring a soufflé." He sighed and shook his head. "But you don't need to hear about our problems."

"Oh well, um it smells wonderful." That voice just doesn't fit that body, she thought to herself.

"Wait until you taste it."

"Hi Michael," Laura said as she walked into the room, offering her cheek for a perfunctory kiss. "It's good to see you again."

"Always a pleasure. It's nice to get out of the house once in a while," he replied, earning a snort from his lover standing near the entrance to the kitchen. Crystal looked over to see Peter shake his head and stalk off into the kitchen. Michael sat down on the couch, leaning back and crossing his leg over his knee. "I wanted to go to the fair this weekend but he promised his mother I'd fix her porch."

"You'd rather my mother broke her hip falling off those rickety steps?" the red-haired man said as he walked into the room, a cocktail tray with drinks in hand. He looked at Laura and huffed. "I swear he's just so thoughtless sometimes. Here sweetie, club soda with lime." He handed the glass to the writer, then turned his attention to Crystal. "I didn't know what you liked but I figured you for a gin and tonic girl."

Gin? She looked in surprise at Laura, then at her drink. She has booze somewhere? Oh what an idiot I am. Having not seen her roommate drink or seen any bottles lying around, Crystal assumed there was no liquor in the house. So that day I sat here and suffered, you had something here all along? She made a mental note to check out what was really in the cabinets in the kitchen the next time Laura went out. "Thank you." I could use this about now.

Peter took his drink and set the tray with its remaining glass on the coffee table. Laura frowned slightly and handed Michael the drink. "Michael, how difficult would it be to install a light on the upstairs deck?"

The big blonde man shrugged. "It shouldn't be too hard. It's just a clapboard wall on the outside and sheet rock inside, right?" "Right."

"Shouldn't take more than a couple of hours if there's a good place to connect into the wiring. I could probably get it done in an afternoon."

Peter leaned over until his face was next to Laura's. "I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you," he said. "I've been waiting five weeks for Mister Fix-It to put up my new bird feeder."

"I hung it up twice," the handyman defended. "Both times you bitched."

"Well how am I supposed to see it from the bedroom window if you hide it under all those leaves?" The redhead straightened and took a small sip of his drink. "Honestly I just don't know what you're thinking sometimes."

"I'm thinking how nice it would be to go somewhere for once and not have you throw a hissy fit."

Peter held his drink close to his chest and tapped his foot on the short carpeting. "Laura, would you join me in the kitchen, please? There's something I want to show you."

"I don't think that line will work on her," Michael said, his youthful voice again drawing Crystal's attention to him. "That only works on guys hanging out at in the park," he continued.

Ooh. Crystal winced. Jeez, he's really pissed.

"He thinks I believe him when he tells me he's going to the gym," the blond man said to her. "Mister Vanity doesn't realize I canceled our membership two months ago."

She leaned forward, lowering her voice so they wouldn't be overheard. "So why haven't you told him?"

"I'm waiting."

"For what?"

His round face puffed up with a smile. "He's just having a fit because I yelled at him for not giving me more notice with the soufflé. He'll get over it in a little while if I stop picking on him." He leaned forward. "I'm saving my trump card until he discovers I scratched the paint on his car backing into a parking space."

Crystal brought the glass to her lips, tasting very little tonic. Few more of these and I won't have to sneak upstairs for a hit, she mused, taking another healthy sip. She realized Michael was still speaking to her. "What?"

"I asked if you wanted to show me the balcony so I can give Laura a better i.e.of how much it would cost to put a light in." "Um" Upstairs? Alone? Rational thought told her that the hulking blond man meant her no harm but she couldn't stop the tensing of her body. Downing the rest of her drink, Crystal struggled to think of an excuse not to go upstairs with him. Fortunately Laura unwittingly came to her rescue.