I nodded agreement. I could think of several encounters I would have enjoyed more had I been eating oyster dressing instead of a woman.

No less than one friend a day called. And talked to either Rachel or Emma.

Torbin left a message that he hoped I got well soon and to be sure to let me know that he never did approve of my being sick in bed. Pun intended, no doubt.

Danny called to let us know that they were throwing the book at Choirboy—Murder One. “But he’s so damned innocent-looking, he’ll probably only get manslaughter,” Rachel repeated to me. Danny also said that whenever I got back to the city, the first thing I was to do was to come over for dinner. By the end of the week, Rachel and Emma were included in the invitation and Danny and Rachel would spend half an hour discussing recipes and the latest in green growing things.

Joanne and Alex both called. Alex to say hi and that she hoped I could talk soon. Joanne the same and also to tell us that the search of Frankenstein’s apartment turned up evidence to link Frankenstein to all the murdered women, including Vicky Williams, the murdered woman left out in the woods. She had been his first victim. He had waited outside a clinic that specialized in abortions and, finding her an easy victim, kidnapped and murdered her. He kept a journal describing his actions. From Betty he had gotten a list of board members of the clinic, which gave him Emma’s address in the country. After hearing about the party and that Cordelia was going, he had decided to dump the body there. When he wasn’t caught, he took that as a sign to continue.

They had also found out why Frankenstein was so obsessed with Cordelia. When she was a resident, she had reported that a patient, who had just had an abortion for an ectopic pregnancy, was disturbed by an orderly telling her that she was going to hell because she killed her baby. The woman was quite upset, borderline hysterical. The patient subsequently identified the orderly, a B. Mahoney, and he was fired. When Sarry suggested Cordelia’s clinic as a target and Frankenstein realized it was the same Dr. C. James who had gotten him fired, he found a way to get back at her and “save innocent lives.”

The first three women, Victoria Williams, Beverly Morris, and Alice Tresoe, all really had abortions before Frankenstein gave them his butchered version. The autopsies didn’t reveal that two separate abortions had been performed in one day. Then he made his first mistake. He killed Faye Zimmer and she wasn’t pregnant. His next mistake was putting a file for Victoria Williams in Cordelia’s clinic. But he thought God was on his side and he could get away with anything.

It was, Joanne said, an ugly conjunction of hatreds.

Emma confided to me after talking to Joanne, “I’m against capital punishment, but I can’t regret the death of that energumen.” Religious fanatic. I had to look it up in the dictionary.

Cordelia called several times, mostly, I suspected, to talk to Emma about the clinic and what would happen now, since Emma was a board member. Emma did pass on that Cordelia asked how I was doing.

“Of course we’re going to rebuild,” Emma informed us after one of the calls. “The main problem is what to do in the meantime. We’re looking for a suitable building in the area to rent, but that’s proving difficult.”

I got cards from Bernie, Sister Ann, Hutch and Millie, and even one from O’Connor that said, “Get well soon. I need you to testify.”

After about a week, Emma and Rachel went back to the city for a few days, promising to return by the weekend. Though I sounded like a drunk, chain-smoking bullfrog, I could, if need be, talk long enough to call the fire department if the house burned down, making it safe to leave me by myself. Rachel left me with two gallons of homemade ice cream. I wondered if it would be enough.

I was sitting in the kitchen finishing the rest of the ice cream when they returned.

“Welcome back,” I greeted them, showing off my newfound voice.

“I see you’ve moved from bass to baritone,” Rachel kidded.

“I thought to call you, but didn’t want you talking on the telephone,” Emma said. “But since my last party out here was so rudely interrupted, we’re having another one this weekend. Not very elaborate, just a few close friends.”

“And since your friends have been calling, we couldn’t leave them out,” Rachel added.

“When are they arriving?” I croaked.

“Sometime this afternoon or evening,” Emma informed me.

“So, if you’re recovered enough, there’s a load of groceries in the car you can help with,” Rachel said.

I did, hanging around the kitchen doing all the available peon chores until the master chef chased me out, preferring to create in peace.

I ended up on the front porch, sipping lemonade, watching for arrivals, directing Emma’s friends to the music room and Rachel’s to the kitchen. It was too early for either Joanne or Danny (and by default, Elly and Alex) to get off work and get out here. Theirs weren’t the kind of jobs you could slip away from early on Friday afternoon, even in the dog days of summer.

Of course, that left me wondering if Cordelia was coming, and, if she did, what I would say to her.

After pointing Julia and Herbert in the direction of the music room, I sat back down. And watched my car drive in. My first thought was to hightail it off the porch and hide until I could think of something profound to say, something witty and passionate, but self-contained and honest (yet without risk), not to mention explanatory without being self-serving. Nothing came to mind.

Get up and go over to meet her, I told myself. You’ll think of something to say. Highly inappropriate, I’m sure, I added as I put down my glass and started walking across the lawn.

Cordelia got out. She waved at me, giving me no choice but to continue walking toward her.

“Hi,” I rasped out. So far, so good.

“Hi. How are you?” she asked, smiling at me.

“Much better. How are you?”

“I’m fine.” Then she frowned, which took me aback until I realized it was at the still discolored marks on my neck. “Bruise yellow. My least favorite color,” she commented.

Then we both didn’t say anything. She turned and opened the trunk.

“I guess I owe you an explanation,” I finally said. We both knew for what. The night I had walked away from her.

“Yes, you do.”

“Too bad I don’t have one,” I said, which was partly true. The only explanation I did have was “I love you and I couldn’t just use you for sex. It would have hurt too much to leave in the morning.” But I was afraid to say that.

She shrugged, turning back to the trunk and taking out her overnight bag slowly.

“It’s not a good one, I mean,” I fumbled. “I couldn’t just sleep with you…”

“Understandable,” Cordelia answered quietly.

“Oh, hell,” I blurted out, my voice cracking, “I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?”

“No, I think you’re doing what you have to,” she said, her back still to me.

“No, I’m not. I’m making myself…I’m not very good at this.”

She turned to face me, waiting for me to continue.

“I got out of your car because…I respect you too much.”

“You respect me too much to sleep with me?”

“Yes…No, I…Hell. I use sex, at least I have, to avoid…love. And…not with you. I didn’t want to do that. I was pretty drunk by the time we left the bar. I’m sorry if I…led you on. Danny got me angry. It was better for me to be by myself,” I finished lamely.

“Waiting for bombs on your doorstep?”

“Well…” I shrugged.

“Micky, it’s okay. We can be just friends, if you want.”

“No,” I blurted.

“No?” she answered, surprised.

“No, I…yes, let’s be friends, but…I would like to see you.” I leaned against my car.

“Aren’t you at the moment?” she asked, with her half-smile.

“I mean…go out. Maybe the zoo or something. I can be a reasonable human being when people aren’t trying to kill me. We don’t even have to hold hands. Just…give me a chance.”

“No,” she said.

“Oh,” I said, staring at our feet. Mine were ready to run across the yard. Hers were calmly crossed at the ankle.

“No,” she repeated. “If you want to see me, you’ll have to at least hold my hand. Actually,” she continued, “even that won’t do. My minimum is a protracted good night kiss. But,” she put her hand on my shoulder, “I’d prefer to do it in the street and scare the horses. Think of my reputation.”

“Your reputation?” I stopped looking at my feet.

“Yeah,” she answered. “What would people say if they knew we were seeing one another and not even holding hands?” She was facing me now, her forearms resting lightly on my shoulders. “Alex once said I was the only real lesbian nun she knew. You have no idea how out of character it was for me to put my hand on your thigh. Let alone kiss you that evening in my office.”

“Why did you?”

“I…I’m very attracted to you. I couldn’t…stop myself,” Cordelia replied, half sheepishly.

“Well, I have to admit my offer not to hold hands has a few practical problems. Like I would only be able to manage it if Sister Ann and five other nuns were always in attendance.”

I put my arms around her waist. Her elbows were now resting on my shoulders.

“Really?” Cordelia queried, a smile slowly spreading from her eyes to her lips.

“Really.” I heard a car drive in. “Danny’s probably going to show up any minute now.”

“Good. Let her,” Cordelia answered. “I think you owe me a ruined reputation.”

Never refuse a lady a reasonable request.

I kissed her. And kissed her.

For a very long time, we stood in the yard kissing each other. I was vaguely aware of more arrivals, but they were a very minor distraction. “I think my knees are getting weak,” I finally said.

“Let’s go,” Cordelia suggested, picking up her bag, one arm still around my shoulder.

“No,” I said, seeing which direction she was leading me. “Not the blue cabin.”

“That’s where I’m staying.”

“No, you’re not. You’re staying with me. In my room.” I pulled her toward the house.

“Don’t you want to be with the gang?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Because, I’ve…slept with most of them.”

“So?” Cordelia replied.

“But they’ll be so embarrassed when they hear us and wonder why I never made that much noise when I was with them.”

Cordelia burst into laughter. “You are crazy,” she told me.

“No,” I replied. “I’m…in love.” There, I said it, I thought, caught between panic and pride.

Cordelia stopped, forcing me to face her.

“So am I,” she said, looking directly at me.

We started for my room.

“Well, I won that bet,” Cordelia continued. “Danny said you’d never say it.”

“Damn Danny and her interference,” I said, not really too upset at Danny. “She made me…”

“Yes?”

“Promise I would stay with you at least six months,” I admitted, as we climbed the steps to the front porch.

“You got off easy. Joanne made me promise at least a year,” Cordelia said amiably.

I just shook my head at the presumption of our friends. We entered the house and headed up the stairs.

What’s Emma going to think, I suddenly wondered. Getting a bit above yourself, aren’t you, Micky? But it wasn’t her voice saying it. It sounded like Aunt Greta’s. And I didn’t give a damn about what she thought.

I let Cordelia into my room.

“You might not believe this,” I said as she put her arms around me and started kissing my cheek, “but you’re the first woman I’ve ever slept with in this bed.”

“Really?” she asked, looking up.

“Yes, really,” I answered. “I mean, I’ve fooled around out here. A couple hundred acres is very inviting, but…somehow I couldn’t, not with Emma right across the hall.”

“I feel privileged,” Cordelia replied. “But promise me one thing?”

“Uh?” I grunted, somewhat distracted by the movement of her hands.

“That sometime over this weekend, we’ll make love in the woods.”

“Anywhere you want,” I agreed.

Cordelia led me to the bed.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Believe it or not, I’m shy.”

“I know,” she replied. “I finally figured it out. Underneath that brazen smart-mouth lurks a shy woman. It took a while, although it should have been easy.”

“Why?” I asked, lying back under the gentle pressure of her hands.

“Believe it or not, I’m shy, too.” She got on top of me.

“You are?”

“Haven’t you noticed?”

“No. I’ve always seen a competent, strong-willed woman.”

“You must be in love.”

“I am,” I told her. “Did I mention strikingly beautiful?”

“Uh-huh,” she murmured skeptically, wrapping her tongue around my nipple, one hand delving under the waistband of my pants.

“You don’t seem shy,” I commented as her hand continued to move.

“No point in being reserved with you,” she said softly.

“Oh. I do have a bit of a past, don’t I?”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, ceasing her explorations for the moment. “I always figured that someday I’d end up with someone…I could settle for. I never thought I’d get the one that I really wanted.”

“Me? You mean me?”

“Micky, you idiot,” Cordelia said. “Danny has carried a torch for you for years. I don’t think even Elly’s extinguished it completely. And Joanne? I always figured I was at the end of a very long line.”

I shook my head, disbelieving.

“When you walked into my life, what was it, six months ago?” she continued, “you just…after you arrived, I didn’t know where I was, but I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Life with you won’t be boring.”

“No, it won’t.” I agreed with that.

She kissed me, then paused to say, “Getting you has done wonders for my ego. I feel like I’ve just been sent to the head of the class. Alex can’t make any more tacky comments about my love life. And Danny will have to stop trying to fix me up with other women.”

Then our kiss continued. My shyness vanished.

I don’t know when she stopped kissing me. I don’t know if she ever really did. All I know is that some time later, with the last faint glow of a summer sunset slanting through my window, I was lying in her arms, some deep part of me at rest, finally comforted and stroked to surfeit.

“I bet the gang is here by now,” Cordelia said, gently rubbing the back of my neck, “and wondering where we are. You need to make an appearance to convince them you’re alive and well.”

“I suppose,” I answered.

There was a knock on the door.

“Micky?” Emma’s voice called.

I jumped out of bed, not that I had any place to go. “Just a…”

Emma opened the door. I dived back toward the bed, figuring my back was less revealing than my front.

“Well,” Emma said, chuckling softly. “I’ve been looking for both of you, but I didn’t think it likely to find you in the same location.”

“Hello, Emma,” Cordelia said easily. “I suppose we’re an odd sort of couple.”

“Not in the least. I’ve always thought the two of you would make a wonderful pair. I just didn’t think it possible that both of you would have the good sense to realize it.”

Cordelia laughed. I was still fumbling with the sheets, trying to make them cover at least some portion of my body.

“I’ll tell your friends not to expect you for dinner. And possibly not breakfast either,” Emma said, and then her exit line, “And not only to have the good sense, but both of you at the same time. Wondrous strange, indeed.”

She closed the door.

I jumped back out of bed.

“Watch,” I said to Cordelia, running after Emma.

I yanked open the door, calling after her in the hallway. “We fooled you, didn’t we?”

She stared at me, standing naked in the hall.

Then I caught her and threw my arms around her, hugging her and picking her up.

For once, I confounded Emma Auerbach.

Cordelia was standing in the doorway, a big grin on her face when I set Emma down.

“Well…” she said.

“We’ll see you sometime, Emma,” Cordelia said, extending her hand to me.

“We might be down for supper,” I hedged.

“Ah, youth,” I heard Emma finally say as we closed the door, remembering to latch it this time.

“No, life with you won’t be boring,” Cordelia said as we lay back down. “I keep thinking that there’s nothing you can do that will surprise me. And yet, you keep surprising me.”

“Don’t feel too bad. I still surprise myself.”

“Good,” she replied, putting her arms around me. “That means we’re really in this together.”

Then she kissed me. I lied about dinner. We never made it.