much more radiation?”
“Just another week, probably—three more times.”
“That’s good, huh? You won’t be so tired then.”
“Yeah, it does kind of wear you out. But I’m not getting nauseated or anything, which is a definite plus.” The glass door to the library opened and Izzy nudged me, instantlyswitching gears. “Sam! Oh, God, and I’m wearing my Joan Crawford scarf. I wish I had my Marlins cap.”
Sam wandered the floor, scanning the stacks. Beneath the table I actually crossed my fingers.
Izzy yanked a blush compact from her purse and flipped it open. “You know, I haven’t heard a word from him since the hospital. I’ll bet it scared him off.”
“He’s not around much,” I pointed out, grabbing another Dorito.
“No, it’s the hospital thing. Although I was wearing that sexy backless gown with the bunnies on it.” She closed the compact with a sigh. “I should call him over. No, that looks so desperate. On the other hand, I
am
desperate.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am. I’m hairless. Hairless equals desperate.”
Sam wandered behind Izzy and caught my eye. He gave me a frantic look, like a cornered animal. I averted my eyes. No way was I going to blow this by letting Izzy catch on.
“He’s looking this way,” I said.
Izzy studied her physics book. “Which means he’s looking at you.”
“My face or your rear, what do
you
think?”
Izzy half-snorted a laugh, then tried to compose herself. “Your face is every bit as lovely as my butt, Al,” she assured me. “Is he coming this way?”
“Yeah. He looks a little nauseated. That’s good.”
“Nauseated is good.”
“It could be pre-asking-out nausea.”
“Oh, God, oh, God, please,” Izzy whispered, then groaned. “Listen to me. I’m talking to a deity I don’t even believe in.”
I kicked her gently. Sam was closing in. “I think you’re supposed to do all the questions at the end of chapter seven,” I said loudly.
“Ladies,” Sam said, straddling a chair, “you are in possession of contraband in the form of high-fat snack food.”
“Hey, it’s our first offense,” Izzy argued.
“You can buy my silence with a couple of Doritos,” Sam said. His eyes bounced off mine for a split second. “Or you can go out with me tomorrow night.”
Izzy’s pale cheeks colored. “You drive a hard bargain. Just don’t put this on my permanent record.”
“Okay, then.” Sam wiped his palms on his jeans. “Sevenish. I know where you live. We’ll … I don’t know. Have a snack-food orgy. You know I have a motorcycle?”
“I can’t wait to tell Mom.”
“Don’t forget your extra helmet,” I said, instantly regretting it.
“How do you know he has an extra helmet?” Izzy asked.
The edges of Sam’s mouth curled ever so slightly. I knew what that look meant—
I told you this wouldn’t work
.
“That time in the field where he nearly killed himself—remember I told you about it? He had one then. I found it in a ditch.”
I smiled back at Sam. He stood up abruptly. “I’ll see you tomorrow night,” he said to Izzy.
“Sooner,” Izzy said.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. French.”
As he left he brushed my shoulder with his arm. No big contact, not a major foul, but instinctively I pulled away.
Izzy watched him go, perfectly serene. But as soon as hewas out of sight she threw her fist in the air. “Yes!” she cried. “We have liftoff. Doesn’t he have the most incredible you-could-crawl-into-them eyes?”
“Excellent eyes.”
“And those kind of Brad Pitt lips, with that sort of Tom Cruise nose.”
“Excellent assorted body parts.”
She looked so ecstatic. I felt a sweet rush of power, like any successful matchmaker, but it was more than that. I felt positively generous. Almost, as Sam had put it, noble.
“God, I’m being a ditz, aren’t I?”
“Izzy, he’s gorgeous. He’s sweet. He sent you flowers. And you’re going out. What’s not to ditz over?”
“What makes you
“Just another week, probably—three more times.”
“That’s good, huh? You won’t be so tired then.”
“Yeah, it does kind of wear you out. But I’m not getting nauseated or anything, which is a definite plus.” The glass door to the library opened and Izzy nudged me, instantlyswitching gears. “Sam! Oh, God, and I’m wearing my Joan Crawford scarf. I wish I had my Marlins cap.”
Sam wandered the floor, scanning the stacks. Beneath the table I actually crossed my fingers.
Izzy yanked a blush compact from her purse and flipped it open. “You know, I haven’t heard a word from him since the hospital. I’ll bet it scared him off.”
“He’s not around much,” I pointed out, grabbing another Dorito.
“No, it’s the hospital thing. Although I was wearing that sexy backless gown with the bunnies on it.” She closed the compact with a sigh. “I should call him over. No, that looks so desperate. On the other hand, I
am
desperate.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am. I’m hairless. Hairless equals desperate.”
Sam wandered behind Izzy and caught my eye. He gave me a frantic look, like a cornered animal. I averted my eyes. No way was I going to blow this by letting Izzy catch on.
“He’s looking this way,” I said.
Izzy studied her physics book. “Which means he’s looking at you.”
“My face or your rear, what do
you
think?”
Izzy half-snorted a laugh, then tried to compose herself. “Your face is every bit as lovely as my butt, Al,” she assured me. “Is he coming this way?”
“Yeah. He looks a little nauseated. That’s good.”
“Nauseated is good.”
“It could be pre-asking-out nausea.”
“Oh, God, oh, God, please,” Izzy whispered, then groaned. “Listen to me. I’m talking to a deity I don’t even believe in.”
I kicked her gently. Sam was closing in. “I think you’re supposed to do all the questions at the end of chapter seven,” I said loudly.
“Ladies,” Sam said, straddling a chair, “you are in possession of contraband in the form of high-fat snack food.”
“Hey, it’s our first offense,” Izzy argued.
“You can buy my silence with a couple of Doritos,” Sam said. His eyes bounced off mine for a split second. “Or you can go out with me tomorrow night.”
Izzy’s pale cheeks colored. “You drive a hard bargain. Just don’t put this on my permanent record.”
“Okay, then.” Sam wiped his palms on his jeans. “Sevenish. I know where you live. We’ll … I don’t know. Have a snack-food orgy. You know I have a motorcycle?”
“I can’t wait to tell Mom.”
“Don’t forget your extra helmet,” I said, instantly regretting it.
“How do you know he has an extra helmet?” Izzy asked.
The edges of Sam’s mouth curled ever so slightly. I knew what that look meant—
I told you this wouldn’t work
.
“That time in the field where he nearly killed himself—remember I told you about it? He had one then. I found it in a ditch.”
I smiled back at Sam. He stood up abruptly. “I’ll see you tomorrow night,” he said to Izzy.
“Sooner,” Izzy said.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. French.”
As he left he brushed my shoulder with his arm. No big contact, not a major foul, but instinctively I pulled away.
Izzy watched him go, perfectly serene. But as soon as hewas out of sight she threw her fist in the air. “Yes!” she cried. “We have liftoff. Doesn’t he have the most incredible you-could-crawl-into-them eyes?”
“Excellent eyes.”
“And those kind of Brad Pitt lips, with that sort of Tom Cruise nose.”
“Excellent assorted body parts.”
She looked so ecstatic. I felt a sweet rush of power, like any successful matchmaker, but it was more than that. I felt positively generous. Almost, as Sam had put it, noble.
“God, I’m being a ditz, aren’t I?”
“Izzy, he’s gorgeous. He’s sweet. He sent you flowers. And you’re going out. What’s not to ditz over?”
“What makes you
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