Chapter 12

“Joe!”

I was startled awake by my father bellowing my name on Saturday morning. I squinted when the light hit my eyes but could see him standing in the doorway to my bedroom. “Yeah?” I asked weakly.

“I’m going to the range. If you have any intention of going hunting next month, get your ass out of bed and down to the car. It’s nine o’clock, for Christ’s sake.”

“I’m coming. Two minutes.”

Maybe it was three, but I grabbed a shirt and pants from the pile on the floor next to my bed then slipped on my socks and shoes. I got in the car and neither of us spoke as he drove.

Ten minutes after leaving the driveway, we were headed out of town and through the gap. At seventy miles an hour, the state game lands were only another five minutes ahead, but I was still uncomfortable with the silence while not being able to think of anything kind of small talk that wouldn’t sound forced.

He hated sports. I certainly couldn’t discuss Hannah. We could usually talk politics but the only thing going on, other than the long simmering aftermath of the Iranian revolution was the new Pope, John Paul the second, coming to see Jimmy Carter.

So I kept on staring out the passenger’s side window, looking for glimpses of the river below in between glancing up at the top of the hillside on the opposite side, fifteen hundred feet higher.

Just before reaching the small town at the end of the gorge, we turned left onto a gravel road that led up the mountain.The dirt and rocks crunched under our tires as we made our way up the steep incline. Finally we got to the clearing where we parked.

Dad said, “Help me get the stuff out of the trunk.”

I was glad I grabbed my jacket as it wasn’t going to get much higher than fifty. As I walked around to the rear of the car, he opened the trunk and waited for me to get my Springfield thirty-aught-six before he lifted out his Winchester two-seventy, a box of ammo and a set of targets.

He passed me a couple of the paper sheets with a printed bullseye and said, “Take these out to the hundred-yard mark and meet me back at the pavilion.”

There was no chit-chat. It was all business. The crisp air stung at my lungs as I jogged across the side of the silent mountain to place the targets then return.

I carefully loaded six rounds into the magazine and snapped it into place on the underside of the thirty-aught-six. I was preparing to take a standing shot at the target when Dad said, “Sit on the bench. You need to be as stable as possible so we can be confident that any errors are from the sights being off and not because you can’t hold the rifle steady.”

Following his instructions, I settled onto the bench and rested the rifle. I closed my left eye and lined up the iron sights of the rifle with the center of the target a hundred yards away. I squeezed the trigger and felt the butt slam into my shoulder as a deafening roar echoed off the hillside. I reset my grip and squeezed off another round, seeing the target flinch as the bullet passed through its paper. It took less than two minutes to run through all six rounds in the magazine.

Finished, I stepped back from the bench and watched as Dad replaced me. His two-seventy was a lighter and faster round and produced more of a cracking sound.

Dad sent me to retrieve both our targets, once again jogging out and back. He studied mine, which had a fairly tight group slightly low and to the left of center. “You’re a little over three inches to the left at a hundred. That’s three in thirty-six hundred, or one in twelve-hundred.” He glanced at a small ragged book. “A bit under two minutes.” He turned to me, extended his hand and said, “Let me see the rifle.”

He leaned in close to the rear sight, on top and a few inches behind the trigger on the underside. He turned the screw at the edge of the sight slightly then looked up at me. “I figure next year is the last time you’ll be doing any deer hunting.”

Confused, I asked, “What do you mean?”

He shook his head. “Have you been paying any attention? Ever? Who’s going to sight your rifle for you?”

I pointed at it and replied, “Uh, yeah. You were using trig to calculate the angle.”

“Do you have any idea how to clean it?”

I waved my hand at it and replied, “You’ve got some oil and rags you wipe it down with.”

His frown deepened as he looked up at me. “But you don’t know the details. You never pay attention. You’re one of the smartest people I know but you piss your life away with ball games and playing with yourself instead of studying or learning any life skills.”

“But...”

He raised his voice. “Do you know how to change the oil in a car? I’ve been trying to show you this stuff since you were three!”

A knot formed in my chest as I felt a tear welling in my eye. I didn’t want him to see me cry. “Yeah ... uh ... I don’t know!” I stammered. “I’m sorry. I like to hunt but I’m not into the same stuff as you.”

“Tell me son, don’t you want to be somebody? Or, as the song says, just be another brick in the wall?”

“Of course, I do!” I pleaded.

He jabbed his index finger at me. “You don’t show it. You have to be willing to do the work but you never seem to want to go that far. You got a year and a half until you finish school. Then what?”

I shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know yet. I like to figure things out, find the answers. If I stay in town I might work up at Metropolitan Life.”

“But when you switched your major, without asking us about it, you went to econ instead of math, and insurance would want experience in actuarial science.”

“I think I’d really like to work for the C.I.A.”

“Okay, that’s something,” he conceded, “but what about your grades?”

“We’re only six weeks into the semester but I’m getting mostly A’s.”

His voice grew stern and disapproving. “I mean the two years you pissed away, barely passing.”

I looked down and shook my head slowly. “I don’t know. Maybe they’ll have an entrance exam.”

“Maybe?” he echoed incredulously. “You need to know these things for sure. If you want to be some kind of analyst, you better start doing some research. Now!”

I sighed and reluctantly nodded my head. “Yes.”

“Tell you what. You get out for the summer in April, right?”

“Yeah.”

He was poking his finger at me again. “Okay, not this coming spring, but next, when you graduate. Eighteen months. Do your homework – because once you’re out of school you’ll have ninety days to find your own place.”

“What?” I exclaimed in shock.

“You’ll be turning twenty-two with a college degree. Damn well old enough to take care of yourself. Time to be a man.”

I stared at him in disbelief for a few moments, trying to not let another tear fall down my cheek, before finally nodding weakly and muttering, “Okay.”

After we got back to the car and put all the gear in the trunk, Dad said, “Wait a minute,” reaching into the back seat for a box. “You remember what I told you about not bring home any goddamn mistakes?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Quickest way to mess up the rest of your life.” He handed me the box and said, “Here’s a hundred condoms. Think that’ll last you awhile?”

“It’s not like that, I...”

“Don’t give me any bull. It only takes one time.”

I grinned. “Okay, um, thank you?”

Not a word was said on the ride home either. Box in hand, I ran up to my room, looked around, then decided to hide it in the back of my sock drawer.

I was still rattled and needed to see Hannah. Without hesitation, I grabbed my keys and skipped down the stairs. Mom was at the stove and as I came around the corner she said, “You want some lunch?”

“No, thanks – I’m going up to the mall for awhile.”

“You going to be home for supper?”

With a hand on the back door I replied, “Uh, I don’t ... wait, yeah ... I’ll be here.”

“Okay, I will plan for your return. Don’t forget, we have bowling later.”

Instead of the highway that headed directly to the mall I took the road to Hannah’s house. I knocked on the door and when Aunt Janet opened it she waved me in saying, “Joe, you’re family, you don’t have to knock. Just come on in.”

“Thanks.”

As we entered the living room she asked, “So, what’s up?”

“I was heading over to the mall and wondered if anyone wanted to come along. Maybe we can catch a movie,” I explained.

Dave chimed in, “Sorry bro, I’m going over to Susie’s.”

Hannah stuck up her hand. “Yeah, I’ll go. I’m not doing anything.”

I replied, “Hey fine, c’mon” and she followed me out to the car. Once we were moving, I said, “Nice reply there. Didn’t want to make it obvious.”

She looked over and smiled. “No problem, but it is a pleasant surprise.”

I sighed. “Eh, I was having a pretty rotten day. Was out with Dad this morning and he started on me again. I was hoping you could cheer me up.”

“Bugging you about a job again?”

I glanced over at her and nodded. “Yeah, and ready to kick me out of the house as soon as I finish school two summers from now.”

“You know you can’t steal money from his sock drawer forever.”

I wagged my finger at her. “Oh ... don’t you start, too!”

“Hey, just saying,” she shrugged with a smile. “So how was the game yesterday? The one you saw without me!”

“You had school!”

She slapped me on the arm and laughed. “That didn’t stop you – how many classes did you cut?”

“Just two.”

She said, “Remember, you switched majors to get your grades up” as she wagged a finger at me.

“It was a great game, you would’ve enjoyed it.”

“Uh-huh,” she smirked.

“You know how the lower level is metal, so they can rotate the stands for the Steelers?”

“Of course,.” she nodded.

“Everyone down there was jumping up and down together, and the stands were rippling in waves!. Then in the late innings we kept yelling at Dave Collins out in right-field.”

“Bunch of hoodlums!”

“We were excited! Beat the damn Reds. Can’t wait for the Series to start on Tuesday.”

I pulled into the lot right by the entrance next to the theater. It was still chilly, and Hannah clutched my arm as we walked past the rows of cars and up to the building. As we stepped inside, she turned to me and asked, “What’s playing?”

I shrugged, “I’m not sure – let’s go check the marquee.” Standing in front of the posters, I said, “Looks like ‘10’ with Bo Derek and ‘Starting Over’ with Burt Reynolds.”

Hannah stared at the display, then looked sternly at me and said, “No way I’m sitting next to you while you watch Bo Derek running around naked.”

I frowned and tilted my head. “Uh, yes ma’am? So I guess it’s Burt Reynolds?”

“Yeah,” she affirmed with a nod. “That ought’a be good for a laugh, and he’s a hunk.”

I threw my hands in the air and replied, “Oh, so you can look but I can’t?”

She pointed a finger at me playfully. “He’ll be dressed, big difference.”

I smirked. “As far as you know.”

I paid for the matinee tickets and as we passed by the concessions Hannah asked, “Do you have enough money for some popcorn or something?”

I rummaged through my pockets, pulling bills from my left and coins from my right. “Eh, two dollars and change.”

She shook her head disapprovingly and snatched the bills from my hand.

As we entered the dimly lit theater, the previews had already begun to roll. I pointed towards a row in the back where we might be afforded some privacy, but she tugged my arm, leading me towards the front. “I want to see Burt close up.”

Once we settled in, I reached for her popcorn but she batted my hand away. “Sorry, not enough for two. You should’ve brought more money,” she scolded playfully.

The movie started with Burt Reynolds offering some philosophical narration over the opening credits, the meaning of which became clearer as the action opened inside an affluent looking bedroom, where Reynolds was lecturing Candace Bergen as she watched him transfer his possessions from a dresser into a suitcase on the bed.

She pleaded that her desire to pursue music was real and not like her other infatuations, but then he found love letters to another man taped to the bottom of the dresser drawer that he’d just dumped into his suitcase. Holding the letters up, he asked with a mix of sadness and anger, “Did you want me to find these?”

Reynolds portrayed Phil Potter, who then went to visit his brother and sister-in-law in what appeared to be a peaceful suburban neighborhood. On his second trip to their home, he was strolling down the sidewalk behind a woman who seemed nervous and clutched her coat tightly against herself in the crisp autumn air. Suddenly she whipped around and screamed at him, “I have a knife, and I’ll cut your fucking balls off!”

My eyes widened in shock and I whispered to Hannah, “She seems nice.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, I was expecting a comedy.”

Then the woman raced to Phil’s brother’s house and disappeared inside. As it was his destination as well, Phil knocked on the door and upon being let inside was told that his sister-in-law’s friend had just called the police because of being followed by a pervert, when in fact this woman Marilyn had been invited to dinner to meet Phil.

Amidst all the chaos and confusion, they all had a good laugh, but Marilyn didn’t want to date Phil right away. “Maybe in three or four months” to which he replied, “Do you know anyone who will go out with me now?”

We chuckled at various times, following the low key humor as Phil pursued his romance with Marilyn while he fixed up the dilapidated brownstone apartment that he’d recently moved into.

When Phil told his divorced men’s support group that he hadn’t had sex with Marilyn yet, one of the other men suggested, “Maybe she’s special.”

Phil told Marilyn he’d worked as a writer and was preparing to start teaching creative writing at a community college. When he looked pensive she asked what was bothering him.

“Two things,” Phil responded.

“Which are?”

“I’m nervous about teaching this class for the first time...”

“What’s the second?” Marilyn pressed on.

Phil looked her directly in the eyes and declared, “I want to have sex with you.”

Hannah punched me in the arm.

On screen, Marilyn replied, “I don’t want romance either, but can’t you just personalize it?”

“I’m not that good.”

Next they were shown laying in bed together and Hannah interlaced her fingers with mine and pulled closer to my side.

In the morning when Marilyn was alone in bed and Phil was driving away, Hannah yanked my arm. “Oh, that’s cold, where the hell is he going?”

Phil called and Marilyn tearfully yelled, “I will not let anyone do that to me! I am not a one-nighter!” and he whimsically replied, “I left a note.”

Hannah pointed a finger at the screen. “You go girl!”

They made up and soon it was Thanksgiving dinner at his brother’s house. Then Phil’s ex-wife Jessie called. It was very awkward as everyone at the table could hear what he was saying, and that he referred to Marilyn as ‘a friend’ instead of by name, causing her to storm off.

“How could you call me a friend?”

“I felt like I was cheating on my wife.”

“Bastard! I don’t breathe right without you! Who are we kidding here? You’re hung up on your ex-wife!”

He pleaded, “I can’t see you because I did one dumb thing?”

I whispered, “Oh man, he stepped in it.”

Hannah replied, “Well, he was a bastard!”

I chided, “Oh, oh ... language young lady!” and she stuck out her tongue at me.

I nudged her with my elbow. “Don’t be sticking that thing out unless you intend to use it!” She smirked and clutched my arm.

Phil continued to pursue Marilyn and eventually she relented when he asked her to move in. They seemed happy as Phil died Christmas shopping but then returned home to find his ex-wife Jessie sitting next to Marilyn, with both women grinning at him.

Stunned, he asks, “Been here long?”

Jessie replied, “About three hours.”

Phil angrily dragged Marilyn into the bedroom where she smiled and told him, “She has pretty tits.”

I’d noticed the plunging neckline and lack of bra and whispered to Hannah, “Damn, she was stunning. Much better than at the beginning of the movie”

She poked me in the side and warned, “Keep your eyes in your head.”

Phil asked Marilyn if he could have some time to talk to Jessie. Once she left, Jessie said, “All those questions I was going to ask you and now I don’t feel like it.”

“What did you expect?”

“You sprawled out on the sofa, suffering from malnutrition, muttering my name ... you sure are a sight for sore eyes. How do I look?”

I whispered to Hannah, “My God, she’s upset that he’s happy without her?”

Phil and Jessie went to the car, but Marilyn was sitting in the driver’s seat, shivering. He said, “Um, I’m going to drop her off at the motel and be right back.” Marilyn nodded and went back in the house.

As they drove down the road and Jessie squeezed his thigh, I said to no one in particular, “No, no – don’t do it!” and Hannah squeezed my hand.

At the motel Jessie offered him a bottle of wine and put on music. She took a sip and whispered, “Better than ever.”

Phil nodded. “Look at us – we’re a couple.”

Jessie came up from behind and put her hand on Phil’s shoulder, then whispered in his ear, “Just me touching you makes you that excited?”

“Apparently.”

“Incredible!” Jessie said.

Hannah whispered, “Huh, just like you.”

“But he can’t!” I replied firmly.

She smirked at me. “You said how pretty she was.”

“But she’s a bitch. Marilyn may not look like much, but she loves him.”

Next thing, Phil was back at home, but Marilyn was gone. Then Jessie called to say, “I’m sorry. I embarrassed myself.”

“Goodbye, Jessie.” Phil hung up the receiver.

I said to Hannah, “Oh, thank God, he didn’t do it.”

She replied, “Yeah, but Marilyn’s still gone. He blew it.”

Phil told his group what happened and one of the guys said, “Is that all?”

Phil replied forlornly, “I never wanted a woman so much in my life.”

He meets Marilyn at Bloomingdale’s where they are looking for a new sofa. The salesman says, “Once you sit on that sofa you won’t want to get up” but instantly Phil curled up in a ball and muttered over and over, “I’m sorry, Marilyn, I’m sorry” as he continued to cry.

Hannah punched my arm and said, “He did do it – the bastard!”

Out of popcorn, Hannah had her head on my shoulder as Phil Potter returned to his fancy apartment that he’d shared with Jessie when they were married. She was waiting on the sidewalk and led him upstairs, through the door and into their bedroom. Phil looked over hesitantly as Jessie undressed, then followed her lead and removed his shirt and pants.

As they laid on the bed and kissed, Hannah whispered in my ear, “Twenty-seven days.”

I glanced over at her. “What?”

“It’s been twenty-seven days.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Since when?”

She turned and looked up at me, whispering, “Since the last time we did that. Do you realize, in the six weeks we’ve been together, we’ve only done it twice?”

“Twice? Um, well ... that’s not all my fault! We’ve had opportunities, but then you said you were mad at me or something!”

Suddenly there was a “Shhhhhh!” from the lady behind us.

Hannah waited a minute before beginning to rub and squeeze my thigh. “Well, I’m not mad at you today. I want it ... bad, and you will give it to me!” she whispered seductively.

“You don’t hear me complaining, but where? Both of our places are a no go.”

“If you had any money we could go to a motel.”

“That would take some planning. Can’t be a spur of the moment thing.”

“Then you need to prepare to take care of your woman!”

Again, from behind came, “Will you be quiet?”

The next morning, Phil said to Jessie, “Feels strange to be back together again” and she smiled and replied, “When we made love last night, I had a vaginal orgasm”. Immediately I got an elbow in the ribs from Hannah.

We sat quietly as Phil called Jessie to again say goodbye, then repeatedly chased after Marilyn until he blurted out “I want to marry you.” Once she realized what he had said, they hugged and kissed and lived happily ever after.

As we walked out of the theater, Hannah intertwined her fingers with mine and with a small smile asked, “You don’t have any old girl friends that I have to worry about, do you?”

I chuckled and squeezed her hand in response. “We discussed that the other night. I don’t think anyone is pining for me.”

She let out a giggle and leaned closer to me. “Well, I’ll keep you ... but now, where are we going to go?”

I looked down and frowned as I walked. “Maybe we can check on campus. Let’s go see Matt.”

Ten minutes later we walked into the first floor of Matt’s lodge and climbed the stairs to his room. I turned left and gave a quick rap on the door. A few seconds later it opened and Matt peaked out. “Hey ... oh, Joe, Hannah ... how you guys doing? What’s up?”

I said, “Came to ask a bro a favor. We were out this afternoon and now we’re in need of, um, a place where we might enjoy some privacy. As she’s pointed out, I don’t have the funds for a motel.”

Matt looked over at Hannah and she squeezed my hand while giving him puppy dog eyes. He ran a hand through his hair while he thought. “Okay, um, let me see. You know where Willie lives over at Laurel?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. If you find him, he has some keys for a storeroom in the basement. It’s a bit cluttered, but there’s a couch down there.”

It sounded familiar. I shook his hand and said, “Thanks, man” as we turned and headed back out.

It was a hundred fifty yards or so from Briar over to Laurel. Willie was home, and keys in hand I led Hannah towards the basement stairs. As we headed through the lobby I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Three o’clock. I should probably be home by five.”

She squeezed my fingers. Hard. “You are not going to rush this.”

“Ouch! Don’t worry, I intend on enjoying this as long as possible.”

I fumbled with the keys but was able to get the door unlocked. We stepped inside, flipped on the light switch, then I closed the door and locked it again.

Hannah glanced around then looked up at me. “Not exactly the Biltmore,” she remarked dryly.

There were old bed frames leaning against the wall, ping pong tables on top of each other, and cobwebs filled every corner. Not much different than that night eight months earlier when I was led there by a fat, drunken co-ed.

I lifted some boxes off the couch and said, “At least it should be private.”

“If I see a rat, I’m outta here.”

“Yeah, and I’ll be right behind you,” I replied with a nervous chuckle.

For a few moments we both stood there, gazing at each other, until Hannah stretched her arms towards me and said, “Well ... c’mon, we don’t have all day.”

I stepped forward eagerly, allowing her to wrap her arms around me, moaning as she held me tight, then sliding a hand down my back and past my belt which sent shivers down my spine.

I tensed at her squeeze, then leaned down to bring my lips to hers. At first soft and gentle, we pressed harder until she parted her lips to let my tongue slide inside. She ground against me, feeling me stiffen, then pulled my shirt loose from my belt and over my head as I held my arms up.

Having broken the kiss, she looked up and asked, “You did bring rubbers?”

“Of course, I always have one in my wallet.”

She giggled and replied, “One? What if that’s not enough? What if I want it four or five times?”

As we talked my hands rubbed her sides and then came up to cup her breasts through her blouse, slowly kneading them. “You’d have me dead before we even get to five – but guess what my dad did for me today?”

“Besides yell at you?” she quipped.

“He bought me a box of condoms. A hundred foil wrappers for you to undo, because he didn’t want any mistakes.”

Hannah looked up into my eyes. “Except for the first time, we’ve been careful – but did you bring them with you?”

I shook my head. “No, I put the box in my socks drawer.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Lots of room there, as all your socks are on top of the dresser,” then with a hint of disappointment said, “but I guess I’ll have to settle for just one time today.”

“I’ll make it worthwhile.” I kissed her again, then pulled off her blouse and undid the clasp on her bra, letting her breasts hang free. I motioned for her to move back and onto the couch, allowing me to lay over her torso and take turns suckling her.

After a few more minutes, breath heavy and heart racing, she pushed me off and said, “C’mon, I’m ready.”

As she quickly slipped her jeans and panties off her hips and then over her knees and feet, revealing herself completely to me, I got the condom from my wallet.

Sitting up, she deftly undid my belt and slid my pants and boxers down my hips and to the floor, from where I kicked them away. She said, “Open it while I get this ready” and took me deeply into her mouth while I ripped the foil away.

She gagged slightly then held her hand up, allowing me to pass her the condom, which she placed at my tip and then unrolled with both hands until it encased my entire length.

Hannah laid back on the couch and spread her knees. I knelt before her, pulled back her hairs and slid my tongue up her folds a few times to make sure she was wet enough.

“Brussel sprouts?” she giggled as I explored every inch of her with my tongue.

“Oh, no – it tastes just like roses!” I teased.

“You don’t taste roses, silly!” she laughed.

I stood up and said, “Are you ready?”

“Always,” she replied with a seductive smile that sent shivers down my spine.

With that I lowered myself over her and pressed my condom sheathed manhood up against her opening, as a rush of anticipation and desire coursed though me. Slowly, I rubbed back and forth a few times before finally pressing inside. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as I pushed deeper, feeling her warmth envelop me. Bottoming out, I pulled halfway back then started a slow and steady rhythm.

We continued without words for several minutes, our bodies in sync, as I alternated between nuzzling her neck and kissing her forehead.

As I hovered above Hannah, rhythmically sliding in and out, over and over, pressing as deep as I could, she writhed, eyes closed, wincing and moaning with each thrust, steadily growing louder and more urgent.

After a while she reached around my back to pull me in, bringing her lips to mine for a slow passionate kiss. Eventually she broke away, and holding my face in her hands, staring straight into my eyes, said softly, “I love this so much ... oh, oh ... it’s amazing how close I feel to you ... oh, yes, oh ... can you promise me ... ohhh ... that this will never end ... ohhh.”

And with that I slammed forward, stiffened, and filled the condom.

Rolling off her, she sat up and stuck a finger in my face. “We are not done yet - you better finish me!”

I rested on my side next to her, propped up on my left elbow, as my right hand slid down her belly and into her bush. After a moment I found warm, wet skin and then her tender nub. I rubbed the tip of my middle finger in circles, pressing down.

It wasn’t long before my hand started cramping, but by then she was arching her back and uttering guttural cries and moans as she reached the peak of her pleasure. When she stiffened, I dropped my mouth to hers, kissing her hard as my hand was caught between her clenched thighs.

As her breathing slowed, I smiled and asked, “Better than Burt Reynolds?”

She let out a laugh and replied, “I can’t complain, but did you see? That man has more hair on his arms and chest than you do on your head!”

I got home in time for dinner, afterwhich Mom rode me to the bowling alley.

We were on lanes twenty and twenty-one that night, and as I got my shoes out of my bag and sat to put them on, I saw Katie coming over. She stood in front of me, apparently studying my face as she smirked.

I lowered my foot to the floor, shoe still untied, and felt myself blushing as I turned my full attention to her. “What?”

She giggled and asked, “Uh, did someone get lucky?”

“Huh?”

She leaned in and whispered, “Lucky. You know...”

I felt a little sweaty from her closeness and my eyes went wide. I smiled and said, “Ohhh ... um ... how can you tell?”

“It’s all over your face. Most of the time you are so serious, lost in space...”

“I’m concentrating on my bowling...”

She giggled. “Yeah, right ... but tonight, you have this glow.”

I gazed at her and stifled a laugh. “And, um ... you know this from personal experience?”

Katie tilted her head. “Isn’t that a little, as you say ... personal? Anyway, I’m a good Mennonite girl. Have to be after thirteen years of school.”