Chapter 80

5 p.m. Friday

Regan couldn't help but smile when the door to Andy's hotel suite opened. Anne Duffield stood there to greet her - and the woman's face was split in a grin.

"Welcome, young lady," Anne said. "Andy will be with you in a moment. He only got in a few minutes ago and is picking through his closet as we speak."

"Can I go back?" Regan asked.

"I would imagine you shan't see anything you haven't seen before," Anne replied. She laughed when Regan blushed scarlet.

"It's fine, Dear," Anne said, putting her arm around the embarrassed young woman. "You must understand, we Brits are not as 'hung up' about sexuality as the Americans seem to be. I was a teenager in 1960s and as a daughter of privilege if not wealth, I am certain I did some things that would cause my Evan and my Andy to blush to their toes. I once flashed Ringo Starr - but only because Paul, John and George were looking the other way. If I had to do it again, I would rush right out in front of them and force all three of them to watch. It was right before their final official tour. I was 14 years old and I convinced my Mum to take me to Heathrow to see them off.

"Thankfully for all, she remained in the car. I swear to you, Dear, there were 10,000 teenage girls standing and waiting. Well, I pressed my way to the front! My father was Sir Elliot Allen, hero of the tank squadron, after all."

She laughed to show that was (mostly) joking.

"I'm afraid when I was a silly girl, I took things like that a bit too seriously," she admitted. "But I made my way to the front anyway. I pushed and shoved. I'm not certain, but I think I bit one poor lass that wouldn't yield to my advance. I was no more than 10 meters from the lads as they walked to their plane - and I pulled up my jumper and gave them a show."

Regan had only a fleeting image of who the Beatles might be - and absolutely no frame of reference about the band's mass following around the world in the 1960s.

"It was quite funny, in hindsight," Anne declared, glancing down at her chest. "I mean, I certainly was never blessed with your endowments - and let us just say that young women matured slower in those days. I'm sure I was in my trainer because I barely had any jubblies at all. Anyway, Ringo gave me a nod and wink - as though to say he heartily agreed that stupid girls should greet him that way."

Regan smile was obligatory. She didn't understand why the woman was telling the story in the first place. It certainly didn't ease Regan's discomfort at having the entirety of her family and Andy's family knowing what was going to transpire that evening. But Anne's arm was still around Regan's back and the woman appeared to have a grip of iron. Regan wasn't certain that she could break away even if she tried.

"I am simply telling you that if you attempt to make tonight - or whenever - a large production, I fear you will come away disappointed," Anne said after spotting the confusion on Regan's features. "As the story reflects, I can look back on a few things I've done with great relish. The first time I had sex is not one of them. I will confess, Andrew was my first. I will also confess that it was well before we were wed - although I am convinced that Evan believes I've had sex exactly once - the day he was conceived. The first time for any couple - even ones that are as close as you and Andy - is bound to be awkward. Sometimes the hundredth time is awkward.

"I just want you to remember that even if tonight - or whenever - is not all you've imagined it to be that it will get better. I don't want you to think that either of you is to blame if the world doesn't come to a stop to applaud when the night is over. It is something that takes a great deal of practice to get right - which is why, I think, God has made practicing so much fun."

Regan gave the older woman a smile of gratitude. Joy and Ruth - along with her mother - had offered Regan similar counsel.

"And if the world does stop to applaud?" Regan wondered.

"Then by all means continue to practice!" Anne said gleefully. "It is one activity where the practice is just as much fun as the games."

The women heard Andy's door open and they broke apart with a shared conspiratorial grin. Andy was shaking his head when he exited his room.

"It seems the clothing fairy made a stop while I was at school today," he said, looking directly as his grandmother.

"I had 17 birthdays, Christmases and random events to make up for," Anne declared. She didn't appear fazed by Andy's displeasure. Regan decided she would definitely ask for pointers about how to achieve that feat. "Get over it."

Andy sighed but shook his head again - this time in defeat.

"I picked styles and colors you already owned," Anne told him.

"I did not own anything purple until today!" Andy noted.

"That shirt will look lovely if you wear it while in Regan's company," Anne replied. "The colors I chose will go well with her hair and complexion - blue, green, purple and dark red are fine. I didn't get you anything girly. The purple shirt with tan trousers will look smashing."

"If you say so," Andy said dubiously.

"The rest are Earth tones - tans mostly," Anne continued unabated. "The last thing you want to do when you accompany someone as lovely and graceful as Regan is to detract attention from her by wearing clothing that clashes with her natural style. For instance, you will want to stay away from grays. Regan's eyes have flecks of brown in them and so does her hair so light browns and tans are OK. Grays will make both of you appear to be ghouls risen from the grave."

"I wear mostly jeans and T-shirts, Grandma," Andy pointed out.

"I'm certain your sartorial style will broaden at college," Anne stated. "Or at least I pray to heaven that it does! Jeans are fine for everyday wear. But you don't want to wear them to special occasions. I got you a few pair of linen pants that will be cool enough to replace shorts if you are going out to a play or to dinner somewhere the food doesn't appear in wrappers. I didn't get jeans because I understand that you are somewhat selective in their fit."

"I like them a little loose," Andy said with a shrug. "I mean, not like some of the guys in my old neighborhood that wore them below their butts but I don't like tight clothing."

"I think you'll really like the linen trousers," Anne said with a nod. "I am much like you. I prefer a more relaxed fit. I only wear tight jeans when I wish others to look at my rump."

"Grandma!" Andy said in exasperation.

"She was just telling me about the time she flashed her boobies to the Beatles," Regan said with a laugh.

"That, Dear, was supposed to be kept in strictest confidence!" Anne said - laughing to show she was joking. "Thankfully, I kept the story about the Rolling Stones to myself. Those boys were true rock and rollers!"

Andy considered the concept that the elderly men he'd seen pictures of had once been boys. It seemed impossible to him. Regan appeared to be doing the same thing because she frowned slightly.

"Well, I will leave you two to your own devices," Anne said. "Evan and Camille won't be home until late so they didn't expect you to wait for them."

"Where are they?" Andy asked. It was the second time he'd asked the question - and, like the earlier time, his grandmother simply shrugged.

Regan, on the other hand, knew exactly where they were. She had seen them entering the house below hers with Esperanza Gomez's son as she drove past. She hadn't realized it was them until she was past the driveway - and she was anxious to see Andy - so she hadn't stopped. She beeped the horn and waved - getting a similar response from all three.

"I will be in my room," Anne said. "You two may have some privacy."

"Uh, I was going to get Regan to help me pick out my clothes," Andy replied. He had smiled, as he always did, when his grandmother used English pronunciation on words that sounded differently in America. "I seem to have a lot more options than I thought I did and we haven't really made any firm plans."

"Then by all means, have at it," Anne declared. "I was enjoying these smashing American television shows."

Andy glanced at the television, which appeared to be playing its typical fare for late afternoon.

"Yes, lad, I said that in jest," Anne clarified. "I wanted to wait around for you this evening so I could speak to Regan for a bit. That accomplished, I regret not accompanying Evan and Camille. I believe I will go out and see if I can find something pink for your wardrobe."

Andy groaned before he followed Regan back to his room. She came to an abrupt stop when she entered - first, because of the amount of clothing on the bed and, second, because she wanted to give Andy a kiss.

Even though they had spent Wednesday and Thursday evenings together, it still seemed like days since she'd seen him. Both had school the next day and he had departed by nine p.m. each night. Wednesday had been spent with Andy playing pack mule for Regan's belongings. Then he regaled the Rileys with the tale of Esperanza Gomez and his parents.

He had confided that Evan was certain that the housekeeper had saved them tens of thousands of dollars on the sale price of the house. Esperanza had been impressed with the house - right up to the time she had walked into the parlor (or living room, as Andy thought of it).

"Mildew," she had said instantly as she stopped in the middle of the room. She had turned in a circle and then she had dropped to all fours on the carpeting as she ferreted out the scent that had offended her nostrils. She had found it just as his parents and the Realtor walked into the room.

The site of a 45-year-old Latina on her hands and knees next to the wall had caused Camille to shoot Andy a questioning glance.

"Mildew," he had answered - mostly because he couldn't think of any other explanation.

"Ridiculous," the Realtor had hissed.

"There is severe water damage to the wall," Esperanza had declared firmly. Andy tried to assist her to her feet but the woman had arisen without his help. "The carpeting and, I'm sure, the padding and floor beneath have been contaminated, as well. Both will have to be torn up and replaced, I am certain."

"We've had experts go over the house," the Realtor had insisted.

"You have your experts; we have ours," Camille stated. She had no idea who the woman was or why she was with her son but he had nodded his agreement when the woman spoke.

Esperanza's gaze had shifted to the ceiling and she pointed to a spot near the corner.

"I would say either a pipe has broken or the tub has overflowed," she had said.

And, indeed, she had been correct. The Realtor had placed an urgent call to the sellers - and they had reluctantly confirmed that water from the bathtub had caused damaged to the wall.

While the Realtor was seeing her commission fall, Esperanza was explaining that her son was a general contractor and she would have him come out anytime Camille and Evan wanted in order to give them a true idea of the costs of replacing the carpeting, repairing the damage to the walls and ceiling and to ensure that nothing else had been left off the seller's list of repairs.

By the time he had finished recounting Esperanza's activities, it had been time for Regan to drive him home. He had returned the following afternoon - only to repeat his activities with the things Joy and Ruth wished to keep at Regan's house.

But now, Regan had him to herself for three days - and she planned to make the most of that time.

Camille and Evan sat in her car and watched Hector Gomez drive away.

"The Realtor said they came down to two-seventy," Camille said, expelling breath through puffed cheeks.

"I think we offer two-forty," Evan replied. "Hector says he will fix the flooring and the walls at a discount because his mother insists upon it. He said it would run about $25,000 with anyone else. I spoke with another agent this afternoon. She seemed to think the three-ten wasn't outlandish for this area - even if it required a bit of refurbishing."

Camille exhaled again

"We can look other places," Evan stated. "Perhaps we can look a bit farther down the coast toward Palo Alto. If you're having second thoughts, we need not make a decision until later."

"It's just a lot of money," Camille replied. "I'm not having second thoughts and I like this house but I'm just not sure of paying that much. I mean, Jesus, I don't think the farm was worth fifty thousand and it had property with it."