Coming Home
Part 3
by Lois Cloarec Hart

Disclaimers - See Part 1 for disclaimers.

Chapter Ten

Terry looked over her shoulder to see Jordy hanging over the bench seat talking animatedly to Rob. She smiled at her younger brother's enthusiasm and turned back to Jan, who was easing the van into heavy highway traffic. "He's really excited about this. I sure appreciate you taking us with you."

Jan glanced at her quickly. "Our pleasure. Rob's been looking forward to showing him around the static displays before handing him off to Eric for a flight."

The van headed west along the TransCanada towards the small Springbank airport that would be hosting the weekend's air show. Terry wondered if they'd even find parking, and mentioned her concerns to Jan, who just smiled and tapped the blue and white handicap-parking placard hanging off the mirror.

"Don't worry. Between this and Eric's VIP pass, we'll have no difficulties. He said he'd leave it for us at the front gate."

"You haven't seen him yet?" Terry asked.

"No, he got in late last night and called us to set things up. He's staying with his teammate at a hotel, but promised to come over to our place for dinner before he flies out. When Rob told him about Jordy, he said it'd be no problem taking him on a flight as long as we got out there early enough for his practice run, since he didn't want to take him during the actual show."

"Ah, that would explain this crack of dawn expedition." Terry grinned and took a deep swallow of her coffee. She had pointed out to Jordy in no uncertain terms that he'd better appreciate her rising on a Saturday at 6:00 AM just for his benefit, but truthfully, she was almost as excited as he was. She'd been over at the Spencers almost everyday this past week since her birthday party, and each night when she finished her writing, she'd joined them for a short visit before heading home. Rob had been briefing her on what she could expect to see today.

She knew it was a smaller air show than the big international ones at Lethbridge and Red Deer, but according to Rob there would be a good selection of new and vintage aircraft here. She hoped that they could stay long enough to see the Canadian Forces Snowbirds aerobatic team do their show later in the afternoon, but Jan had cautioned her that Rob might wear down before that in which case they'd have to go home. She wasn't about to complain, especially when he'd gone out of his way to set this up for Jordy and her.

Forty-five minutes later, they'd finally reached the head of a slow moving line of traffic turning in the Springbank exit and Jan pointed to a small, fenced off parking enclosure. "I think that's where Eric said to meet him."

She pulled out of the line, heading for a crowded field of haphazardly parked cars, and drove up to the enclosure. Leaning out the window, she gave the traffic guard her name, and after checking a list, he handed her a pass and pointed out a spot towards the front of the lot. Looking at Terry she said, "Aren't you glad you're traveling with a VIP?"

"Yes, ma'am. That I am," Terry nodded gratefully. "I'd hate to be fighting that mess back there." She gestured at the long line still inching its way towards the open parking field. She was startled when Jan suddenly said excitedly, "Rob, there's Eric!"

Terry looked up to see a stocky, smiling man in a dark blue flight suit with a bright red baseball cap waving at them as Jan pulled up in front of him. Slightly behind her eager friend who'd thrown the van in park and jumped out, she left her seat to see the man grab Jan in a bear hug and whirl her in a circle.

"Eric, you old coot, put me down before I get seasick!" Jan laughed down at him.

Eric grinned and set her carefully on her feet, leaving his arm around her shoulder. "Janene Nichole! Have you finally seen the light? Are you ready to leave that old hound dog and marry me?"

Jan punched him lightly in the ribs, and smiling said, "Oh sure, and what exactly would Anne have to say about that?"

"Probably 'thank you'. I think she could use the break," Eric joked. "So are you going to introduce me to your lovely friend here, or is Rob keeping her all to himself too?"

Jan rolled her eyes. "Pilots! You're an incorrigible breed!"

"That we are and proud of it," Eric agreed. Squeezing Jan with one arm, he reached out his other hand to Terry. "Hi, I'm Eric. You don't look at all like Rob described."

"Eric! This isn't Jordy. This is his sister Terry, now behave!" Jan chided him playfully. "Terry, this reprobate is our old friend, Eric."

Terry had been watching the reunion of the two old friends with interest, and reached out to take Eric's hand, grasping it firmly.

Eric smiled at her as he shook her hand, then he turned back to the woman standing under his arm. "Behave? Moi?? I'm crushed, Jan. When have I ever not behaved?"

Jan shook her head with a grin. "More like when have you ever behaved! C'mon, let's spring Rob. I know he'll be chomping at the bit back there."

She tugged a willing Eric to the back of the van while Terry trailed along behind, amused at the exuberance of her normally reserved friend.

Jordy was in the process of carefully backing Rob's chair down the ramp, beaming at Rob's confidence in him. He turned Rob to face the approaching threesome, then threw the switch to raise the ramp and closed the door.

"Boomer!" Eric bellowed, pouncing on his grinning friend and wrapping him in a gentle bear hug. Terry saw an expression of sadness cross his face as he held the frail man briefly, but it clearly instantly as he stood back to face Rob.

"Buzzard, you haven't changed a bit!" Rob chuckled, obviously delighted to see his old buddy.

"Neither have you, you old jet jockey. You still have the most beautiful women in the country at your side." Eric's grin took in both Jan and Terry. "I've never understood what you have that I don't."

Eyes twinkling, Rob retorted, "Hair."

Eric groaned and clutched his chest. "Oh, ya got me with that one. And here I thought you'd be firing blanks by now." He ruefully pushed back his ball cap and ran a hand over his shining bald pate. Then turning to Jordy, he held out his hand. "You must be my new co-pilot for the day. Eric Landon."

"Jordy Sanderson. I'm pleased to meet you and I really want to thank you for offering to take me up."

Terry decided that if her little brother's smile got any bigger, his face would split. She was enjoying his delight and she instinctively liked Eric, even laughing at his harmlessly outrageous flirting. Judging by their beaming faces, both Rob and Jan were basking in their old friend's presence and it was obvious this man was special to them both.

"My pleasure, Jordy. Any friend of my old wingman is a friend of mine. C'mon, let's go up to the line. We have to get our practice flights in before noon, so the official show can start, and I've booked us for nine, which gives us half an hour or so."

Eric grabbed the handles of Rob's chair and started pushing him towards the sidewalk leading out of the parking lot. Jordy trotted along beside while the two women followed at a more sedate pace.

"Boomer and Buzzard?" Terry looked curiously at Jan. "There has to be a story behind those nicknames."

Jan nodded, golden highlights dancing off her auburn hair. "There is. Rob got his nickname when he and Eric were participating in a NATO competition for reconnaissance pilots. They were flying from their base in Germany to the base in Holland where the competition was to take place."

As Jan continued her story, her pace slowed and Terry matched her, content to let the men get further ahead. "There was another two Canadians on the team, but they were flying up later. All the commanding officers and most of the other competitors from the other countries had already arrived. The COs and a bunch of brass were gathered in the briefing hut on the hangar line."

Terry was watching Jan's face as they strolled along the path, intrigued by how the morning sun made her eyes shine like dark emeralds. Those eyes were distant now, as she related long-ago events.

"Rob and Eric were never ones to arrive anywhere quietly or inconspicuously, and this time was no different." She smiled at Terry, and the younger woman grinned back, never doubting for a minute that the two old roommates had been hell on wings in their day.

"Rob was flying lead, and he told Eric to stay with him because they were going to wake a few people up. They got clearance to do a fly past but then they came in fifty feet off the deck, right over the briefing hut. Well, from what I understand, there was a near sonic boom when they went overhead and everyone in the hut dived for the floor and under tables...except for the Canadian CO who stood there calmly surveying his NATO colleagues and announced, 'Gentlemen, the Canadians have arrived'. That's how Rob became
'Boomer'."

Terry laughed at the thought of all those exalted military men scrambling for cover. It was never hard to picture Rob as an incorrigible prankster, even though physically he was now a universe away from that hale, young man. Terry nudged her friend who'd become lost in thought. "So how'd Eric become 'Buzzard'?"

Jan looked up at her friend, shaking her head slightly as if to clear cobwebs of memory. "Eric got 'Buzzard' because he had this habit of taking up with his buddies' ex-girlfriends, so one very miffed ex-boyfriend accused Eric of being a vulture. I believe Eric came out of that discussion with two black eyes, but the ex had a broken nose and Eric had the girl, so he claimed he won that one. Ever since though, he's been Buzzard."

"They have quite the colourful past, haven't they?" Terry looked ahead of them to where the men were navigating their way around service vans and onto the hangar line.

"Yes, they have." Jan paused, and then went on with feeling. "You know, a lot of old friends couldn't handle it when Rob started to deteriorate so badly, but Eric and Anne have been staunch in their support and affection. I don't think there's anything Eric wouldn't do for Rob if he could. They were roommates and squadron mates in Europe, but I really think they regard each other as brothers more than anything else. He always stops by when he's on a layover in town, and he calls Rob every couple of weeks to tell him what's going on with all their old buddies."

"Friends like that are treasures," Terry said, looking over at Jan.

Jan smiled softly and looking directly into Terry's eyes said, "Yes. They are."

Both women had drifted to a stop and stood for a moment, content to look at each other and bask in the warmth of the day and the company. Jan shook herself first and said, "I guess we'd better hurry up. They're going to start wondering if we got lost."

Terry nodded just as they heard Jordy's impatient voice. "C'mon you two. What's taking you so long? Eric's ready to strap in, for crying out loud!"

"I believe we've been summoned," Terry said wryly.

They started walking quickly and soon caught up to where the men were waiting for them. Rob looked up at them curiously. "Get lost?" he asked.

"No, just filling Terry in on some of your and Eric's escapades when you were young hotshots," Jan answered him. "So Eric, which one of these beasts is yours?"

Eric pointed at two small red and black, bi-wings parked on the tarmac.

"Those Pitts Special S-2Bs are ours. My partner Tom is probably in the hangar right now, but c'mon, we'll go take a look."

He wheeled Rob across the tarmac to the aircraft, as Jordy, Jan and Terry tagged along behind.

"I thought you guys were going to Yak-55s this year, Eric," Rob said curiously.

"Nah, we looked into it but we got a real deal on these babies and they do everything we want and more. I haven't had this much fun flying anything since you and I were beating up Europe."

The two men grinned with mutual memories, and then Rob asked, "What's the climb rate on one of these?"

"Specs say 2700 feet per minute, but we've pushed the envelope a bit farther, though not during shows," Eric replied.

As the two men got further into a discussion of the plane's capabilities, the other three walked around the aircraft, admiring the compact but able looking bird.

"Do you think he'd be insulted if I told him it was cute?" Terry whispered in Jan's ear.

Jan laughed at her, whispering back conspiratorially, "I don't think they like to hear that about their toys." Both women giggled only to find Jordy looking at them indignantly, which only made them laugh harder. Jordy abandoned them in disgust to return to where Eric and Rob were deep in conversation.

"Do you think we bruised his male ego?" Jan asked, not at all remorseful.

"If we did, it'll heal. He's young and resilient after all, and besides, he's so excited nothing could ruin this day for him." Terry nudged Jan and pointed towards a tall man coming in their direction wearing the identical blue flight suit and red baseball cap as Eric. "Is that his partner?"

"Yes, that's Tom. I guess Jordy's adventure is about to begin."

The two women rejoined the men where introductions were being made. Once the formalities were out of the way, Tom said, "Everything's ready to go, Eric. We're cleared to the practice area for nine. Did you want to run Jordy through what to expect?"

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea. He might as well see the whole routine. We'll take him to the briefing room with us."

Turning to Rob and the women, Eric dug into his pocket and came up with a plastic tag. "Here, this will let you into the VIP observation area. It's catered if you're hungry and in the meantime, you might want to look around at the static displays. They've got the military aircraft like the Tomcats, Eagles and Hornets at the far end of the field, and they've got some vintage Second World War aircraft set up between 1 and 2 Hangers. I think there's some Brit, French and Polish aircraft at the opposite end where the heavy transports are set up. The Snowbirds aren't parked here, but they're due to perform at one if you can stay. Lots to see, and we'll bring Jordy back to you around ten, okay?"

With that, Eric and Tom started back towards the hangar, Jordy close on their heels. Jan took control of Rob's chair and the small party started down the flight line, with Rob giving a running commentary on what they passed. Twenty minutes later, they saw the two Pitts taxiing by to the button of the runway.

Terry saw her brother in the back seat of the lead aircraft, helmet on his head and staring intently forward. She waved, though she doubted he had any awareness of anything outside that cockpit. Moments later, she watched the two aircraft take off and angle westward.

She wasn't even aware that she was staring after them until she felt a light touch on her arm and Jan said, "You don't have to worry about him, Terry. Eric's a terrific pilot and he won't let anything happen to Jordy, other than maybe an upset stomach."

"Oh, I know. I'm not really worried, just hoping this lives up to his expectations." She patted Jan's hand then said, "Hey, I wonder if we can get a cup of coffee somewhere?"

"Of course we can," Rob spoke up. "What's the good of being VIPs if you can't even get a decent cup of coffee?"

The three of them moved off to the enclosed pavilion with a brightly striped tent covering the rear. Jan showed their pass to the attendant and he pulled back the velvet rope for them to enter.

Securing coffee and pastries, they found a table close to the flight line and sat down facing the airfield. As the three friends settled in to await Jordy's and the team's return, Rob entertained them with tales of air shows past when he'd flown with demonstration teams all over Canada and the States.

At five to ten, Terry was the first to spot the red and black biplanes returning. Pointing them out to the other two, she jumped to her feet and said, "Let's go meet them. I want to see how he did."

Rob and Jan followed, and by the time they'd made their way back through the growing crowds swarming over the tarmac to the Pitts' parking spots, the aircraft were just taxiing into position.

As the planes coasted to a stop, both pilots pushed back their canopies. Terry was focused on Jordy as he clambered out of the cockpit after Eric. As she reached him, he grinned widely at her and threw his arms around her in an exuberant hug.

"Ter, you should have seen us! We did rolls and loops and passes, and Eric even let me take the controls once their routine was done. I did a hammerhead stall and recovery, almost on my own and Eric said I could fly with him any day," Jordy bragged.

Terry ran her knuckles over her brother's cheek. "I dunno, runt. Ya look a little pale to me. You sure you brought back that little brown bag empty?" she teased her excited sibling.

"Of course I did!" Jordy snorted indignantly. "Pilots don't need those things. That's just for wusses."

The older men were smiling indulgently at the young man's exhilaration. Terry wondered if they were recalling when they'd been Jordy's age, and if the boy's excitement reminded them of the passion that had once propelled them into the air force and into the skies.

Eric had replaced his helmet with his ball cap, but now he tugged it off his head and placed it on Jordy's. "There you go. Now you're officially one of the team," he said to the beaming young man.

Terry leaned down and whispered in Rob's ear, "Thank you. I owe you one."

Rob turned his head and assured her softly, "No debt. It was my pleasure."

Terry felt an undeniable lump in her throat at this man's kindness. It would have been so easy for him to become embittered at what life had done to him, but there wasn't a trace of that in him. Standing, she saw Jan watching the exchange with an understanding smile and Terry was suddenly very glad she'd been delivering mail on that particular route, on that particular day.

*******

It was almost noon and the small party, minus Tom who'd headed back to the hangar, had returned to the VIP enclosure for lunch. Terry was discussing the upcoming Snowbird show with Eric and Jordy when she felt Jan's hand on her arm. Turning, she noticed for the first time that Rob's head was slumping to his chest and his eyes were half-closed.

Indicating her exhausted husband, Jan said, "Terry, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to take him home. It's been a long morning and he's worn out."

Terry felt a flash of disappointment but it was quickly overridden by concern for her friends. "Of course, Jan. We'll leave as soon as you're ready."

Jan studied her for a moment, and then turned to Eric. "Eric, are you still coming over for dinner tonight?"

"Yeah, we were going to cut out of here after our show around four, and I should be at your place about five."

Jan nodded as she went on, "You have your own transportation then?"

"We rented a car for the weekend and I'm going to drop Tom off at his cousins on the way. Why, do you need something?" Eric asked.

"Would you mind giving Terry and Jordy a ride? I know they were looking forward to the Snowbirds but Rob's got to get home now."

When Terry started to protest, Jan looked at her and said firmly, "You know you were, and there's no reason you have to miss them. We've seen them many times so I don't mind passing on the show this time."

Eric chimed in, "No, I don't mind at all. Besides it'll give Jordy more time to pick my brain on the military." He grinned at the young man who'd been peppering him with questions all morning. "I think he may just be considering a possible career as a fly boy."

At this Terry raised her eyebrow at her little brother, but before she could interrogate him, Jan spoke. "It's settled then. Terry, why don't you and Jordy stay for dinner with us, and then I'll run you home afterwards."

"Uh, sure." Terry said, not quite sure how their plans had become so rapidly reordered, but happy at the results though she'd have preferred it if Jan and Rob could have stayed. She watched as Jan briskly unlocked Rob's brakes and pulled his chair back from the table. She noticed Rob was too tired to even protest their premature departure. As everyone bid them good-bye, Jan pushed Rob out of the VIP enclosure and soon disappeared into the crowds still milling around the tarmac.

"Do you know there was a time that man could party all night and fly all day, and nothing ever slowed him down?" Eric said sadly, looking after his departing friends.

Terry looked at him. "I wish I could have known him then," she said. "I'll bet he was the life of the party when you two were over there."

"He was," Eric said seriously. "He was also the most loyal friend you could ask for. There was nothing he wouldn't do for you if you asked." He paused and smiled, "Even if it ended up getting us all in trouble. Did he ever tell you about the checkerboard and the commandant's desk?"

Terry and Jordy leaned forward eagerly. "Nope, I don't think he's mentioned that one. What was it all about?" Terry said, sure they were about to get another glimpse of the hellion their friend had been.

Eric settled back, in full storyteller mode now. "Well, a good buddy of ours got a speeding ticket on the base from the military police. He was only going five kilometers over the limit, but the meatheads didn't have anything better to do than play traffic cop."

He paused and drained his coffee cup as his audience waited impatiently. "Our buddy was complaining about this in the squadron room, and Rob decided the meatheads needed a lesson on priorities. Now you have to know that our Squadron emblem was a checkerboard. So anyway, Rob gets a couple of cans of black and white paint and that night, he leads half a dozen of us on a raid."

Lifting his hand, Eric signaled the waiter for another coffee while Terry and Jordy hung on his words. Impatience overcoming him, Jordy blurted out, "So what did you guys do?"

Eric grinned and picked up his story. "We broke into the Base Commander's office, painted a huge black and white checkerboard all over his oak desk and left a note pointing out how lax base security was and suggesting that something be done about that."

"No way!" Terry laughed.

"Yes ma'am, we did so," Eric asserted vigorously. "And when the Base Commander came in the next morning, he hit the roof. He called the meathead's section head in and went up one side and down the other. 'Course then the head went back to his section and raked them over the coals. Hell, those meatheads were so mad they were spitting bullets. They'd been publicly humiliated, and within hours the entire base was laughing at them. They spent months conducting an inquiry into that stunt."

"Did they ever catch you guys?" Jordy asked breathlessly.

Eric's eyes twinkled. "No, they never did, but it sure wasn't for lack of trying. They investigated their asses off but no one cracked. A year later when the Base Commander was being posted out and we had a farewell mess dinner for him, he brought the subject up himself. Said he couldn't prove it, but he *knew* Spencer and Landon had to be behind it. He was looking right at us, but we just sat there looking like choir boys."

"Oh yeah, I'll bet that was believable!" Terry chortled, picturing Rob and Eric trying to look innocent.

"Maybe not," Eric admitted, "But no way were we going to confess. We both wanted long careers and we knew we'd run into the Base Commander somewhere along the line."

"Did you?" asked Jordy. "I mean, run into him again."

"Uh huh. About five years later he became a general and was appointed head of the air force. But you know he was one of the guys that helped keep Rob in when his health started to go downhill. They could have easily kicked him out after he couldn't fly anymore, but he'd made so many friends and admirers over the years that they just reassigned him to a desk job and let him stay in as long as he could handle it."

"I'd wondered why he got to stay in even after he was diagnosed," Terry mused. "I guess that answers that."

"Yeah," Eric said reflectively. "I think it would have killed Rob to lose the air force, especially after his first wife left him. It kept him going until he met Jan, and from then on, that lady literally saved his life."

He looked at his two young companions soberly. "He came within a couple of hours of dying one time, you know. She wouldn't let him. Never seen anything like it. Just stubborn as a mule, she was. Told him he'd promised her sixty years and he wasn't going to welsh on her or she'd haunt him for eternity. She sat there and held his hand and talked to him day after day. Doctors couldn't believe it but he recovered because she told him to."

Terry saw Eric's eyes mist at the memory of his friends' ordeal. "They're quite a pair," she said softly, and saw Eric nod his head.

"You don't know the half of it," he stated firmly.

Chapter Eleven

Terry plodded up the steps to her house, glad that the endless workweek had finally come to an end. Two weeks after Labour Day, the weather had turned cool with sullen gray skies that threatened early snow. As Terry pulled open the front door, the gusty wind tried to whip it out of her hands and she fought to close it behind her.

Kicking off unlaced shoes and tossing her uniform jacket into the hall closet, she slouched into the living room and collapsed on the nearest couch. Closing her eyes wearily, she'd just decided wild horses couldn't drag her off this couch not even for her nightly trek to the Spencers when she felt an exuberant presence bounce down beside her.

Opening one eye, she cast a jaundiced glance at her grinning roommate and growled, "No, Michael. Whatever it is, no!"

"Aw, c'mon Terry, you haven't even heard what I was going to say," he chided. "Besides, you're not allowed to say no this time because we've decided you've been playing hermit too long."

"Who's 'we'?" Terry opened both eyes now and focused them peevishly on her friend.

"Lisa, Robyn, Randy and I. We were talking this week and we couldn't even remember the last time you came out with us, so we're kidnapping you to Oly's for TGIF. We intend to get you wined, dined and bedded tonight."

Terry groaned inwardly. Her big plans for the night had included a long, hot bubble bath and a trashy novel, but she knew how persistent Michael could be once he got something in mind. She wasn't going to make it easy for him though.

"Maybe I don't wanna be wined, dined and bedded," she pouted, glaring at him even while the corner of her mouth curled up a little.

Michael gasped and clutching his chest tumbled off the couch in an exaggerated pratfall. Throwing one arm over his eyes he groaned, "You don't want to be bedded? Did the sun rise in the west today? Is our dollar actually worth a dollar? Are the Flames gonna make the play-offs?"

He peeked out from behind his arm and Terry couldn't help laughing at her melodramatic friend. He sat up grinning and leaned against her legs.

"Seriously, Terry. You have to come out with us. Your Dona Juanita credentials are in imminent danger of being revoked by the Lesbian Collective. All you do any more is hang around here or go over to the Spencers'. What's gotten into you anyway?"

Looking into his curious eyes as he rested his arms on her lap, Terry shook her head. "Nothing's gotten into me. I just haven't felt like going out lately."

"C'mon, Ter. Just think of all those lovely ladies you're depriving of the pleasure of your company," Michael wheedled. "You have a duty to get out there and circulate."

Terry broke out laughing and pushed her outrageous roommate over with her knee. He sprawled on the floor grinning up at her, confident that he'd won.

"Oh all right, far be it from me to deprive all those lonely women," Terry joked. "What time were you planning on leaving?"

"Randy's coming over around seven, and Lisa and Robyn are going to pick us up about eight." Michael stood up and dusted his trousers off. "I want you to wear those new black jeans and the boots I gave you."

Terry threw a pillow after him as he ducked through the door and called, "Do I at least get to choose my shirt?"

She heard his answer float down the hall. "Yes, but I'll be by at 7:30 to approve it."

Terry chuckled, knowing that he would indeed come by her room to make sure she was presentable. He'd lacked any faith in her ability to dress herself since that regrettable orange leather pants episode.

She resigned herself to going out tonight, briefly toying with a plan to make an early exit but knowing her friends would probably not let her get away with it. Sinking deeper into the couch, she decided she might as well take a nap while she could because the night promised to be long, and the morning after even longer.

*******

Randy pushed open the door to Oly's with one burly shoulder, standing aside to let the three women through. A blast of noise and smoke greeted them as they burrowed into the crowd, wending their way to the bar and finding a spot to stand. The bar was bursting with the usual Friday night revelers and Terry wondered if they'd be able to find a free table.

As always though, Lisa's uncanny ability to spot an opening had them worming their way through the crowd five minutes later, glasses of beer held high to protect them. Her diminutive friend pounced on a table just as the occupants were getting ready to leave, and she glared at a couple attempting to claim the same territory. With Robyn and Randy's solid presence at her back, Lisa carried the day and the table was theirs.

The friends settled around the table and Terry smiled to herself watching Randy inch his chair close to Michael's, settling one arm gently around her roommate's shoulders. She liked the large, quiet man whose muscular, rough looks contrasted so sharply to Michael's slender, urbane appearance. Randy looked exactly like what he was, an oil rigger who spent as much time out in the field as he did in the city.

She'd been surprised when they started dating several weeks ago after meeting in Oly's, and hadn't expected it to last even this long. Since his disastrous relationship with Owen, Michael had steadfastly refused to be pinned down by anyone.

Terry mused that it might end when Randy returned to the north at the end of the month since she couldn't see her friend staying faithful to an absentee lover. Still, watching Randy suddenly tug a laughing Michael to his feet and pull him towards an open dartboard, she decided she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her roommate more content.

Sipping her beer, she surveyed the mix of Oly's regulars and a good many strangers. It had been a while since she'd been here. In fact, she hadn't been back since the ball team's end of season party. She let her eyes drift over the people clustered at the bar and settle on an attractive, older woman sitting quietly at the far end of the bar nursing a drink.

The woman's pale blonde hair was cut neatly in a bob, and her expensive, well-tailored, bronze coloured suit draped evenly over generous curves. Terry watched as the woman turned on her stool and casually surveyed the room. When the woman finally noticed Terry's gaze, she smiled flirtatiously and dropped her eyes, turning back to her drink. Terry chuckled to herself, not sure yet whether she'd pursue the invitation, but intrigued by it nonetheless.

Returning her attention to her own table, she saw Lisa and Robyn grinning at her. "What?" she demanded, "What's with the Cheshire Cat routine?"

Unrepentantly Lisa said, "It's just good to see you getting back in the game." Turning to Robyn, she said, "Hon, would you mind getting us another round?"

The big woman stood up and asked Terry, "Another of the same?" When Terry nodded her agreement, Robyn started pushing through the crowd to the bar, leaving the two women alone at the table. Lisa instantly turned serious and Terry wondered what was on her mind. She didn't have long to wait.

"Terry, I'm really glad you decided to come out with us tonight. Frankly, we were seriously considering running an intervention on you." Lisa only half-joked.

"What are you talking about?" Terry asked, puzzled at her friend's intensity.

Lisa stared at Terry for a moment, then said, "Terry, you haven't been doing much lately except for going over to the Spencers. It seems like every time Robyn or I call for you, that's where you are."

"I like them and I like going over there," Terry said defensively. "They're really great people. Heck, you met them at my birthday, you know that."

"They are good people," Lisa agreed. "But I can't help worrying about why you're spending so much time with them to the exclusion of all your other friends. I ran into Jordy the other day, and he said even he hadn't seen much of you lately."

Terry didn't want to go into why she spent almost every night at the Spencer's as she was still protective about her writing. Perhaps she had been a little obsessed lately, but her new writing retreat had spurred a wonderful upsurge in productivity. She rarely left the Spencers now without a great sense of satisfaction about what she'd accomplished that evening. At the rate she was going, she thought she might have the first draft completed by Christmas.

Still, it perturbed her that everyone was making such a big deal out of her changed routine. It wasn't as if she'd started skydiving or bungee jumping. She was just spending a lot of time with new friends. She reasoned that maybe her old friends were feeling neglected. When she started to ask if that were the case, Lisa interrupted her.

"Look, Ter. You're not doing something dumb like falling for a straight, married woman, are you?"

Terry gaped at her, completely shocked that such a thought had crossed her friend's mind. "Where in the hell did you get an idea like that?" she finally sputtered. "They're my friends, Lisa. Both of them!"

Lisa looked at her intently. "Terry, we all saw the way you looked at her at your birthday party. You couldn't keep your eyes off her." The diminutive woman sighed heavily. "I know it's not your style, and God knows, you've never lacked for single women. And I know Rob's your friend too, but I think you may be getting into deep waters here. You haven't forgotten what happened with Belinda when she got mixed up with her boss's wife, have you? I mean, it's not like you'd lose your job or anything, but you know how that whole mess tore her apart. She's never been the same since."

Terry stood up abruptly, angry at the insinuation. "You're crazy if you think that. I would never do anything to hurt either one of them."

Spinning around, she almost ran into Robyn who was returning with three beers in her hand. Grabbing one, Terry stalked off to the bar, unwilling to stay and talk about such a preposterous notion.

Making up her mind, she angled towards the blonde woman she'd been eying moments earlier. Sliding in beside the woman, she turned on a winning smile and asked, "Hi, would you like some company?"

When the woman nodded with a slight grin, Terry motioned the bartender over. "Can I get you another of those?" she asked the blonde.

"Yes, please. Chivas on the rocks," the woman said, as she shifted to give Terry more room beside her.

Terry held out her hand. "My name's Terry Sanderson."

"Patricia Wilson," the blonde responded. "Trish for short."

"Hi, Trish. I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you new to Oly's?"

"Actually, I'm new to Calgary, and I'm only here for another couple of weeks. I'm on a contract assignment from head office in Toronto to straighten out a mess with our local branch office. Are you from around here?"

"Yup, I'm a native Calgarian, born and raised here," Terry answered, enjoying the way the woman's graceful hands toyed with her drink.

Pushing the distasteful conversation with Lisa from her mind, she settled in to get to know her new companion. The next couple of hours flew by as the two women talked about jobs, families, and the differences between their cities.

Terry liked Trish's casual confidence and easy conversation. The woman was intelligent, well traveled and a pleasure to converse with. She noticed that Trish was finding many opportunities to lay her hand on Terry's arm, and laughing brightly at her words.

Partway through the evening, Michael came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Leaning close, he whispered, "Atta girl! I knew you still had it in you."

Speaking louder then, he said, "Randy and I are cutting out to Harlequin's, and Lisa and Robyn are heading to the Arc for a bit. Did you want to come or can you find your own way home?"

Terry glanced over to their table and saw Lisa, Robyn and Randy getting ready to go. Before she could answer, Trish chimed in, "I've got a rental car. I could drop you off at your place later if you'd like."

"Are you sure you don't mind?" Terry asked, giving Trish a chance to back out.

"No, not at all. Besides, I'd hate to lose such charming company so early." Trish smiled at Terry, a veiled promise in her pale blue eyes.

Terry grinned back, and turning to Michael said, "No, you guys go on. I'll catch you later." She paused then said, "Tell Lisa, no hard feelings, 'kay?"

Michael nodded and gave Terry a quick hug before returning to the waiting trio. She saw him tell Lisa something, and saw the smaller woman look her way and smile. She returned the smile, relieved that Lisa's ridiculous theory hadn't created a rift between them. She knew Lisa had just been seeing chimera, but she hated to argue with her old friend. Giving a small sigh, she turned back to her companion.

"Are you hungry at all? Would you like to drop over to Pieder's for a bite to eat?"

"That sounds like a great idea," Trish enthused. "I feel like I haven't eaten in ages."

Gathering up her purse, the blonde woman followed Terry's lead as she threaded her way through the still boisterous crowd and out into the cool fall night. Terry held the door for her, smiling at the evening's possibilities.

*******

Terry's hips surged upward with one last spasm of pleasure then settled back onto the disheveled sheets. Consciously bringing her breathing back under control, she reached down to idly caress the blonde head now lying on her belly. The two women lay quietly, enjoying the mutually pleasant sense of satiation, until Terry reached down and gently urged the blonde higher on the bed.

She was just tugging a sheet over their cooling bodies, when her door suddenly burst inward and an odd figure staggered inside. Trish started and gave a small shriek, diving under the covers and grabbing Terry's arm. Terry just snorted and shook her head.

"Michael! What the hell are you doing, and what's that thing over your head?" Terry yelled at her obviously drunk roommate as he swayed in the doorway.

"How kin ya tell s'me?" Michael giggled. "I'm in disguise!"

Terry picked up one of her pillows and threw it at him, nailing him in the head, or at least she thought she did. It was a little hard to tell as he had a lampshade over it, but it was enough to offset his precarious balance and he landed on his butt with a thud, still giggling uproariously.

Simultaneously, a large half-naked man skidded into the room. Randy, wearing only his jeans and an appalled look on his face, looked at his downed lover and shook his head.

Turning to Terry, and Trish who was gaping at the pair in astonishment, Randy apologized, "Aw shit, Terry. I'm sorry. He got away from me. I was trying to convince him to pack it in for the night, and while I was in the washroom, I heard him say something about investigating the mating habits of yellow thrushes and by the time I got out, he was gone, along with the lampshade."

"S'alright, Randy. But could you drag him out of here? He's not exactly what I had in mind for tonight."

Terry grinned at the big man, who grimaced and said, "Yeah, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind either." He grinned ruefully, then bent to help his lover up, removing the lampshade as he did. Michael looked at him blearily, then chortled and hung an arm around his neck.

Randy easily lifted the smaller man, tossing the lampshade aside. "I'll pick that up in the morning, okay?" he asked Terry.

"Yeah, no problem. When the lush wakes up, tell him I want to have a word with him about his sense of timing." Terry grinned, watching the two men leave as Randy hooked his foot around the door to close it.

As the room quieted down again, Terry felt Trish stir uncomfortably beside her. She peeled the covers back a bit and slid one arm around the woman's shoulders. "Look, I'm sorry about that. Michael has a weird sense of humour at the best of times and when he's been drinking, it goes right off the wall. Are you okay?"

She felt the woman's head nod against her shoulder, and then Trish said, "Yes, I just wasn't expecting company." She was silent for a few moments, and then she said, "You have quite the exciting household."

Terry chuckled, pulling the woman closer and settling deeper in her pillow. "It can be at times," she yawned. "But I wouldn't trade my roommates for anything." The exhaustion she'd held at bay all evening set in again, and this time she yielded to it, closing her eyes and slipping off to sleep within moments.

Many hours later, when Terry finally opened her eyes to a room lit with bright morning sunshine, she was mildly surprised but not displeased to see Trish had already gone, leaving a note on her pillow. After an indulgent stretch, Terry reached for the note to see what it said.

Thanks for a wonderful night, lampshade guy and all. I'm in town until mid-October, staying at the Sheraton if you feel like giving me a call.

It was signed simply 'Trish' and listed her hotel room number. Terry stretched again, then tossing the note on her side table, pushed back the covers and stood up.

As she gathered what she'd need for her shower, she mused idly on the preceding night. It had been fun, she supposed. Trish was certainly nice enough and had proved an enthusiastic partner, but she was glad the woman didn't appear to have any further expectations of her. She wasn't in any mood for entanglements at the moment.

Briefly, Lisa's words flashed through her mind, and she frowned at the memory. Scoffing internally, she pushed the thought away, and started down the steps to the washroom.

An hour later, showered and dressed, she sat in the kitchen sharing a pot of coffee with Claire. Both women turned their heads as the basement door creaked open and a pathetic looking specimen staggered into the kitchen. Claire smothered a smile, while Terry piped up, "Geez, Michael! You look like something the cat dragged in. What the hell did you do to yourself last night?"

Michael stared at her through blood-shot eyes, wincing at the brilliant morning light, then groped his way along the counter towards the coffee maker.

Grabbing it like a drowning man reaching for a lifesaver, he stared disbelievingly at the dregs barely coating the bottom of the pot. Moaning pitifully, he rolled the shallow liquid around the pot as if willpower alone would increase the volume. "How could you girls do this to me?" he rasped. "I thought you loved me!"

The women looked at him as he cradled the pot in his arms, then at each other as they broke out laughing. Michael groaned and clapped his hands over his ears, forgetting he held the pot as he did so. He succeeded in hitting himself with the pot, which only made the women laugh harder.

Finally Terry took pity on him, and prying the pot out of his desperate fingers, replaced it with her own coffee mug as she turned to make a fresh pot. He staggered to the table, taking deep swallows of the coffee as he plopped gracelessly down beside Claire. Grimacing, he grumbled to Terry about his purloined treasure, "What'd you do, put a little coffee in your cream?"

Terry looked at him acerbically. "Beggars cannot be choosers. Besides, after what you did last night, you're lucky I even let you near my coffee!"

"What I did? What did I do that you would be so cruel as to deny me the fluid of life in my hour of need?" Michael whined pitiably.

Before she could answer, a knock sounded on their back door. Pulling it open, Terry saw Robyn's large face beaming at her. Grinning at her friend, she swung the door wide in an unspoken invitation. "Good morning, Robyn. Where's your better half today?"

"Lisa had to run a bunch of errands so she's going to swing by later. You know how much I love shopping so I decided to drop in for a cup of your world-famous coffee." Robyn tossed her coat over the back of a chair and joined the roommates clustered around the table.

"Good luck on the coffee," Michael grumbled. "And I have dibs on the first cup when the pot's ready."

"What's with Mary Sunshine over there?" Robyn asked the women, jerking her thumb at the slumping Michael still clutching Terry's now empty mug.

Smiling, Claire enlightened her. "Our suave and debonair friend managed to get rather inebriated last night and now he's paying his penance, and not very graciously at that."

"Never again!" Michael moaned, dropping his head gently down on the table. "I'm never again doing Jell-o shooters with Randy. That man could put Babe the Blue Ox under the table. Hell, I think he is the Blue Ox!"

"Well, you would know more about that than we would," Claire teased him. "But we'll take your word for it."

Without even looking in her direction, Michael punched her arm lightly. "Ha ha! You're just such a funny lady."

"Where is that man of yours?" Terry asked, sliding back in next to Robyn now that the coffee pot was perking in the background.

"Still asleep. Exactly where I'd be if I had any sense at all." Michael rolled his head so he could open one eye and peer at Terry across the table. "What were you talking about that I did to you last night?"

Terry grinned evilly. "So you don't remember staggering into my room while I was in flagrante delicto, wearing a lampshade on your head and giggling like a mad schoolboy?"

Michael's face was blank for a moment, then a look of horror washed over it as he jerked upright. "Ohmigawd! I didn't dream that??"

"Nope, you sure didn't. You know for someone who was determined to see me bedded last night, you weren't exactly helping the endeavor along!"

Terry sat back, enjoying the expression of remorse and embarrassment on Michael's classic features. The chuckles from the other two women only served to increase the vivid blush colouring his cheeks.

"Oh, Terry. I'm so, so sorry. I can't believe I did that. Was your date really upset?"

"Nah, lucky for you we'd already taken care of matters so all you were disturbing was the afterglow."

"No doubt about that," Claire teased. "Honestly Terry, if we'd had any crystal in the house last night, I'm sure it would have shattered."

Terry polished her fingernails on her shirt, then looked up smugly at her friends, "What can I say guys? When ya got it, ya got it!"

A chorus of groans met her boasts and she grinned at the expected response. "Hey, you two were the ones insisting on me being bedded last night," she said as she poked Michael and Robyn. "I was only following instructions. Can I help it if the lady appreciated my efforts?"

"Oui, but did she have to appreciate them at 200 decibels?" Claire complained. "Next time, I think you should either gag your guest, or issue us all ear protectors."

"Yeah, well if there is a next time, I'll keep that in mind," Terry said casually.

The others looked at each other, then back at Terry who was studying her hands. Finally Michael asked what was on all their minds. "If, Terry? Whaddaya mean, 'if'? Something go wrong last night? I didn't really screw things up for you, did I?"

"No, Michael. Everything was fine. I mean Trish was fun, you know. She's a nice lady and we had a good time but… "

She trailed off, not sure how to define what was missing. The others waited patiently, but she just shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "I dunno. It was just different somehow, ya know? Maybe I was just more tired than I thought."

When no further explanation for Terry's unusual lack of enthusiasm came, Michael leaned forward and said conspiratorially, "I know what it was. She failed the Terry Test, right?"

"What's the 'Terry Test'?" Claire asked curiously.

Michael turned to her and grinning said, "That's to determine whether there'll be a second time for Terry's dates. Doesn't matter if they were the best thing under the covers since woolen socks in winter, if they fail the Terry Test, they're outta there."

The other urged him to explain, so he went on. "As I understand it, the lady in question has to like sharing ice cream but despise lima beans; know who scored the winning goal in the '72 Canada-Russia series; love Tolkien and hate Danielle Steel. If she fails in any of those crucial categories, she's history, right, Ter?"

"Michael! I'm not that bad," Terry complained. She paused, then with a grin explained, "I can cut them a little slack if they miss the hockey question but I am inflexible on the ice cream issue."

"So did last night's date fail the ice cream test?" Claire asked curiously.

"Um, we never actually got around to talking about that, but I do know that she probably wouldn't know Tolkien from Tolstoy." She shook her head bemusedly, "She doesn't like to read, not even trashy novels. Can you believe that?"

Robyn looked at her quizzically. "I didn't know that was so high on your priorities, Terry."

Terry shifted uncomfortably. "Well, not for a casual date of course, but I figure if you're going to hook up with a person long-term, those are vital areas of compatibility. I mean, not that I thought Trish was going to be long-term or anything. She's not even going to be in town much longer."

She leaned towards Michael and nudged him. "Besides, I was only following this one's directives anyway. Until he coerced me into going out, my big plan was to spend my Friday night in a bubble bath." When the others snickered, she raised an eyebrow and added, "By myself!"

"It would have been much quieter if you had!" griped Claire cheerfully. Pushing her chair back, the Quebecoise stood. "Well, I have a paper to work on so I'm heading over to the library."

Michael squinted up at her. "You're not talking about Crowley's assignment, are you?" When Claire nodded, he groaned. "That thing's not due for months yet."

Claire smiled at his gloomy expression, and replied, "It's due in four weeks, Michael. And unlike some people I could mention, I prefer not to leave everything to last minute and then pull a week of all-nighters."

As she left the kitchen, Michael just shook his head. "I don't know how she does it. That woman is the most organized person I've ever met."

Terry chuckled and teased him, "Next to you, everyone looks organized. So party boy, is your conscience gonna bother you? Are you going to hit the books early this time?"

Michael drew himself up haughtily. "Don't be silly. I have a reputation to preserve. If I started a paper more than 72 hours before it was due, people would think I was trying to be a scholar or something."

He shuddered, as Terry said dryly, "Oh yes, and God forbid they think that."

Michael yawned, then patting Terry on the shoulder, he stood up and excused himself too, pouring himself another cup to go. "I'm heading back to the bed I should never have left this morning. Are you going to be around later, Ter?"

"I don't know, Michael. I was thinking of going over to Jan and Rob's this afternoon, and I'm not sure what time I'll get back. Did you need something?"

"Nothing important. I'll catch you later."

Michael left and Terry turned back to Robyn who was watching her with an odd expression. "Oh, not you too, Robyn! They're just friends, period, end of sentence!" She shook her head in disgust at her friends' misguided assumptions.

Robyn leaned forward and laid her massive hand over Terry's slender one. "Terry, I didn't say anything. Your business is your own, and I'm not going to butt in."

"Yeah, I know. I just don't understand why everyone's acting so weird lately. You'd think I'd done a Jekyll and Hyde or something. I haven't changed. I've just made some new friends and they're terrific people. It's not like I'm abandoning all of you, for crying out loud!"

"Shhhh, I know that. So does Lisa. She was just worried about you, Terry."

Terry looked at her friend intently. "And what about you, Robyn? Are you worried too? Do you think I'm getting into a mess?"

Robyn was quiet a few moments before she spoke carefully. "I think that you're reaching the point where you want more than just dating a parade of willing women, and that because you are reaching that point, you're more vulnerable now. You told me once that some day you want what your parents have, that you want the love and commitment you've seen between them every day of your life. Do you remember that?"

Terry nodded mutely, as Robyn went on, "I don't for one minute think you'd consciously hurt your friends, but I don't think you'll be as careful about protecting yourself. And that's what concerns me, because you have a big heart, Ter, and I can easily see you losing it in a hopeless cause. I've known you since fifth grade and I've never really seen you in love before. I've seen you in 'lust' more times than I can count, but you've always held back part of yourself. I think the first time you give that part of yourself will also be the last, so I want you to give it to the right woman, a woman who's free to love you back. So yeah, I worry about you."

Terry stared at Robyn. That was more words than the large woman usually spoke in a month. "Robyn." She stopped, uncertain what to say.

"No, it's alright. Just don't get mad at us for caring, okay?"

Slightly stunned, Terry shook her head. "I won't. I really think you guys are worrying for nothing, but I do appreciate that you care."

Robyn smiled, and releasing Terry's hand, went to fill her neglected cup.

Chapter Twelve

On the short drive from her house to Jan and Rob's, Terry enjoyed the bright sun after the dull, windy week just past. She mused on how the easily the Spencers had adopted her into their little family, and how comfortable she felt there.

It didn't matter if she was at their place nearly every day, they always greeted her cheerfully as she passed through en route to her basement retreat. They insisted she eat with them if she were there over meal times, and she often found a small treat on her table when she went down to set up her laptop.

She'd worried somewhat that she might wear out her welcome, but when she approached Jan to express her concern that she was intruding on the couple's private time, Jan had assured her that she was so quiet they barely knew she was there, and that even when she was spending time upstairs with them, they enjoyed her company tremendously.

Jan told Terry she didn't want to hear any more such nonsense and chided her gently for worrying. Still hesitant, the younger woman had studied Jan for signs she was merely being polite, but seeing only seen affectionate exasperation in the redhead's eyes, she'd finally relaxed.

Terry loved the way Jan and Rob accepted her without any expectations or demands. As much as she adored her family and old friends, she always felt a subtle pressure to live up to the image they held of her. Perhaps it was because the Spencers knew of her passion for writing so she was free to be open with them, or maybe it was because they simply gave her unconditional affection and support. In turn, she was sure there was nothing she wouldn't do for them if it were within her power.

She regularly insisted on springing for take-out, especially Chinese which was Rob's favourite. She'd helped Jan repair the back fence though both women had ended up laughing at the less than perfect results. Several times she'd filled in looking after Rob so Jan could take care of appointments and errands.

Only a few days ago, both had told her they didn't know what they'd done before they met her, and she had felt flushed with pleasure that they obviously cared as much about the friendship between them as she did.

Rolling down her window, she inhaled the crisp, cool fall air permeated with the scent of a world going to sleep for another winter. Turning onto the Spencers' street, she smiled as she spotted Jan in their front yard raking up leaves. As she pulled up and parked, Jan turned to wave at her. The usual sense of well being at returning to this home flooded through her, and she walked up to the older woman with a big grin on her face.

"Hey, Jan. How's it going this glorious day?"

"Hi Terry—it's going wonderfully though I'm beginning to think I should conduct a midnight raid to chop down my neighbour's tree. I swear he waits until the fall winds have blown most of his leaves into our yard before he even thinks of raking his own." The redhead shook her head ruefully, looking at a yard covered with a thick mat of dead leaves.

"Yeah, you've sure got a good crop on your hands. Want some help raking them up?"

"Don't you want to get to work? I don't want to cut in on your writing time."

"Nah, too nice a day to be cooped up in the basement all afternoon. I'll give you a hand if you have another rake."

"Thanks, Terry. That's awfully nice of you. Sure then, there's another rake hanging in the garage. It's not as good as this one, but then it all depends on the skill of the user of course." She grinned mischievously at younger woman. "Think you can keep up?"

Terry chuckled. "Are you challenging me, old lady?"

Jan gave her a gentle push in the direction of the garage. "Yup, let's see what you can do with all those youthful muscles of yours."

Terry ambled off, only to turn with her hands on her hips. Cocking her head and frowning at her friend, she asked, "You're not trying to pull a 'Tom Sawyer' on me, are you?"

Laughing heartily, Jan shook her head and resumed raking leaves. "No, I promise I won't trick you into raking the whole yard by yourself."

Terry stood for a moment more, admiring the way the sun illuminated Jan's hair like a bronze flame, and the way her lithe, sturdy body fell into a graceful rhythm as she drew the rake repeatedly over the lawn.

She found herself overcome with affection for the small, quiet woman who handled her lot in life with an enviable serenity. She wondered how she'd react in similar circumstances, and longed to be able to do more for the older woman than simply help out with household chores. She wanted to make a difference, to make things better for these people she'd come to care so much for, even as she realized there was little in reality that could be done.

When Jan looked up quizzically at her continued presence, Terry shook herself out of her reverie and started toward the garage. Swinging by the front door, she stopped for a moment to holler a greeting to Rob. After a brief mutual exchange of friendly insults, she walked around to the garage and found the other rake. It looked as if it had been through a lawnmower with missing and bent prongs, and a taped up handle. Shaking her head at her equipment, she returned to the front yard to demonstrate her leaf-raking prowess to her friend.

The two women raked companionably for the next half hour building an ever-increasing pile in the centre of the yard. Finally, satisfied that they'd collected all the errant leaves they could find, they stopped and leaned on their rakes.

"You sure you're not descended from some ole plantation boss?" Terry teased.

"Oh, like you were working so hard!" Jan scoffed. "Don't think I didn't see you having fun kicking them around."

Terry grinned sheepishly. "I like the sound of them when they're all dry and crunchy."

"Me too. I really like the smell of them too. It's sort of earthy, like a harvest smell. This is without doubt my favourite time of year." Jan closed her eyes and sucked in a deep lungful of the air before suddenly squawking as Terry grabbed the rake and hip checked her into the large pile. Sputtering and pushing leaves out of her face, Jan sat up with an indignant look on her face.

Terry laughed and holding her hands up in supplication, backed away slowly. "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. That pile was just screaming for someone to jump in it."

"Uh huh, and you figured that someone should be me, eh?" Jan got to her feet and stalked after Terry with a predatory look on her face. "You do realize you've ruined an hour's work and that you will pay for that?"

Without waiting for an answer, she launched herself at her friend and, twisting, pulled Terry back into the now scattered pile of leaves. Screams of laughter erupted from a flailing mass of arms and legs as the two women rolled around, each trying to bury the other in the disintegrating pile, throwing leaves with both hands. Finally, out of breath from the flurry of play fighting, they flopped back together on a bed of fragrant crushed leaves.

Terry soaked in the brilliance of the afternoon sun and the essence of the woman beside her. She felt ridiculously happy and wasn't the least bit embarrassed that a couple of mature women had been acting like school kids in front of the whole neighbourhood. Even over the leaves she could detect Jan's unique scent. The older woman smelled of the warmth of summer past, the crispness of fall mornings and the hint of lavender from the soap she favoured.

Terry found herself inhaling deeper to pull that fresh, clean perfume into her memory. She heard Jan's quiet chuckles beside her, and she knew that she only had to turn slightly and their heads would touch. She felt Jan push herself up on one elbow and lean over her. Looking up into laughing green eyes, she watched as Jan gently brushed a few stray leaves off her forehead, then felt the light caress of small fingers as she delicately pushed Terry's disheveled hair back behind her ear.

Unable to move, unwilling to breathe for fear the woman would retreat, Terry was overcome with a longing to hold this woman, to feel her smaller body tight against her own length, to be free to bury her face in that glorious auburn silk.

Jan drew back a little, but left her hand on Terry's shoulder. Giving her a little shake, she said with a smile, "Now you've done it, lady. I think I've got leaves in places leaves have no business being."

Pushing back on her heels, Jan got to her feet and extended a hand to the still frozen Terry. "C'mon you. You helped make the mess, you get to help clean it up."

Taking her hand, Terry allowed herself to be pulled upright. As Jan turned and started searching for her rake, Terry's mind echoed with one thought.

Oh God, Lisa was right!

*******

Terry stared at her screen, not even noticing the lively screen saver flashing across it. Deeply lost in thought, she hadn't typed a word in over thirty minutes. She couldn't stop thinking about this afternoon's shockingly unexpected revelation.

Dazed, she rubbed her forehead and glanced up at the clock on the wall. She shook her head at how little time had actually gone by since her world had been stood on end. Was it really only an hour since all the pieces had fallen into place, and she discovered that place could never be hers?

Contritely she recalled Robyn's words from that morning and how she'd brushed them off. Her friends could still be wrong, couldn't they? Maybe she was just imagining things simply because everyone else seemed to be seeing things.

She closed her eyes and allowed the memory of how she'd felt surface, recalling the glorious feeling of Jan's body squirming under hers as they wrestled in the leaves and how those sparkling, laughing eyes had enraptured her.

Terry shook her head, denying her own fleeting hope that she'd imagined her feelings. No, touching that woman, even in play with layers of warm clothing between them, had been the most erotic experience of her life.

Just lust? She pondered that hopefully. After all, Jan was an attractive woman. Not her usual type certainly, but perhaps she was just reacting to normal stimuli.

Terry rejected that immediately as she compared what she'd felt during the brief leaf fight to her encounter with Trish the night before. Trish had only been about sex. Jan was about so much more that Terry was having problems fathoming the depth of what she was feeling.

She'd never in her life been as completely overwhelmed as she had on that leaf-strewn lawn. Ruefully, she imagined Robyn and Lisa having the last laugh, but had to acknowledge that in reality they would hurt almost as much as she did for her impossible situation.

It was impossible, right? She shook her head firmly. Of course it was. Jan was happily married to a husband she was devoted to. She'd be shocked if she knew what Terry was feeling. Besides, whatever she felt for Jan, she'd never step between her two friends. Even if Jan could be interested in her, Terry would never hurt Rob so terribly. She only had to look at him to see that his whole world revolved around his wife. Without her, he'd be condemned to the unimaginable loneliness of a permanent care facility.

Okay, so how to handle it? Well, she certainly wasn't going to act on it or let Jan know, that much was for sure. Terry knew she couldn't order her heart to stop caring but maybe by ignoring it as much as possible, this fresh new love would wilt from neglect.

She groaned softly and dropped her head in her hands. The only way this powerful feeling, this insatiable craving to gather that woman into her arms and merge their bodies in passion was ever going to vanish was if she moved to the other side of the country for the next three decades.

I wonder if they take Protestant nuns? She snorted at the instant mental image of herself in wimple and sackcloth. Oh yeah, throw me in an exclusive community of women, that'll help!

A chuckle came from the doorway and Terry's head jerked up to see Jan leaning against the doorframe watching her. Her heart rate instantly doubled and her breath caught as every part of her body took note of the woman looking at her with twinkling eyes.

"Do you always go through such agonies when you're writing?" the older woman asked with amusement.

"Uh, I was just, um, thinking," Terry said, flustered at her reaction and wondering how long Jan had been watching her.

"Yes, I could tell. I hope you haven't hit writer's block or anything. You sure seemed lost in a world of your own."

Terry blushed as she recalled the world she'd been lost in, a world of soft, silky skin, deep auburn hair, laughing green eyes and a scent she could pick out in a crowd of thousands.

"Just working out some details before I start the next chapter. Saves a lot of rewriting that way."

"Uh huh. Well judging by that very attractive shade you're wearing, I'm guessing this must be one of 'those' scenes," Jan kidded her, ambling toward Terry and leaning over her to peek at the uninformative screen. "Care to share the details?"

Terry fought to stop herself from leaning back into the woman hovering over her shoulder. Strenuously trying to recover her absent composure, she turned in her chair to regard the redhead, grateful that Jan had stepped back a couple of steps. "No, nothing like that. Was there something you wanted?"

"Yes, I just wanted to check and see if you'd have dinner with us tonight. After all, feeding you is the least I can do after I worked you so hard this afternoon, even if you did create a lot of that work yourself." Jan smiled as her teasing words elicited the predictable look of outrage on Terry's face.

"I made work?? May I remind you who was right in there scattering leaves with the best of them?" Terry fell easily into their established playful pattern, grateful that she could hide her heart behind the familiar banter.

"Yeah, well, who started it?" Jan chuckled. "You didn't really think I'd just let you get away with that, did you?"

"I didn't think you could tackle like defensive back! You should come with a warning label attached, lady. You play rough!"

"Huh! I distinctly remember being pushed into that pile when I was most vulnerable. There I am, eyes closed, enjoying the fall air, and wham! The next thing I know, I've got a face full of dead foliage." Jan cuffed Terry lightly on the side of the head, then laughed as she said, "Hold still. You've still got a few strays in your hair." She leaned closer, tilting Terry's head to the side while she pulled some leftover leaf bits out of the dark curly hair.

Terry closed her eyes, feeling the closeness of the older woman's body and the gentle industriousness of Jan's fingers as she removed the last remnants of their play.

Oh God! It's too soon. She hadn't built up her defences to this woman's presence yet. Terry hastily pushed back her chair and stood up. "Um, thanks. I'll just go run a brush through and get the rest out. Why don't you give me a shout whenever dinner's ready, okay?"

She beat a quick retreat to the washroom, painfully aware of Jan's puzzled look. She was sure if she stayed there a moment longer, her rebellious arms would pull the older woman into an ardent embrace. Closing the door behind her, she leaned on the sink and looked in the mirror. Wide, frantic eyes looked back at her.

"Get a grip!" She told herself. "You cannot do this!" She breathed in deeply, trying to calm herself, and then began to pace within the limited confines of the small room. "Okay, you'll be fine as long as you're not alone with her. That's the key."

Right. That's how she'd handle it, by sticking close to Rob when she wasn't downstairs writing. Suddenly she stopped as a thought occurred to her. Maybe I shouldn't even be coming over here anymore.

"No!" The word escaped her lips involuntarily, even as the thought crossed her mind. She couldn't give these people up. They'd come to mean too much to her, and they'd never understand if she abruptly vanished from their lives. She refused to hurt them when they'd done nothing but offer her unqualified friendship.

She leaned back against the nearest wall. Hell, she refused to hurt herself like that. Am I being selfish? She acknowledged that might very well be the case, but it hurt too much to even thinking of removing herself from the picture. Slowly she slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor, knees drawn up to her chest and her head buried in her arms.

She didn't know how long she sat there, but finally recognized that her butt had gone numb from the pressure. Pulling herself up, she turned on the cold water and washed her face thoroughly. It helped clear the emotional cobwebs from her mind and as she ran the towel over her dripping skin, she decided her best course of action was to behave as if nothing had changed so that no one would have any reason to suspect that anything had.

Looking into eyes that seemed to have aged perceptibly within the last hour, she resolved that she would allow herself to stay in Jan's life only as long as she didn't hurt either of the Spencers. If it looked like there was any danger of that happening, then she would withdraw from their lives immediately. Sickened by the very thought, she clenched the edge of the sink and looking at herself firmly said, "Then it's up to you to make sure it doesn't come to that."

Returning to her computer, she'd never felt less like writing. What she wanted to do was scurry home to the refuge of her garret, but she'd already agreed to have dinner with her friends and she wasn't going to begin Operation Above Suspicion by running at the first opportunity.

She was going to have to buy herself some time to regain a bit of perspective though. She'd think about that later and for now, she would manage to pass a couple of hours puttering about and accomplishing absolutely nothing productive, until Jan's voice floated down the stairs calling her for dinner.

When Terry emerged in the kitchen, Jan glanced up at her tentatively. "Everything alright?" the older woman asked as she set out china and cutlery.

"Yeah, fine. I think I am running into writer's block after all though. In fact, I've been pushing it pretty hard these last few weeks, and I think I need to recharge my batteries for awhile, just not think about the book at all, y'know?"

Jan nodded slowly. "So what's your plan then?"

Terry took Rob's lap tray out of the cupboard and setting it on the island, fiddled nervously with arranging his dishes and napkin on it. Without raising her eyes to Jan, she said, "I think I'll just set it aside for a week or two, let the ideas percolate a bit before I get back to it."

"Hmm," Jan murmured noncommittally. "I guess we won't have the pleasure of your company every night then for awhile."

Terry laughed shortly. "Well you guys are probably pretty sick of me hanging around all the time anyway. You might find you've missed your peace and privacy."

Jan stopped ladling the homemade clam chowder into bowls and looked directly at Terry, compelling the younger woman to meet her eyes.

"I thought I'd made it clear, Terry. We enjoy having you here, and that's not going to change. However, if you need to go do other things for a while, we have no claim to your time. When you're ready to come back, we'll be here. We're certainly not going anywhere."

Adding thick slices of hot freshly baked bread to the tray Terry was still holding, she took it from her hands and turned to take her husband's supper in to him.

Turning just as she reached the entrance to the living room, Jan added, "Your Mom called while you were downstairs and asked us over for Sunday dinner next week, so maybe we'll see you then."

Terry shook her head bemusedly. Uh huh. This was going to work really well. Wish I could tell Mom what a big help she's not being. Picking up her own bowl and a couple of slices of bread, she stiffened her resolve and went to join her friends for dinner.
Chapter Thirteen

Terry couldn't help slamming the door petulantly, as she entered her home. Dinner at her parents had been the first time she'd seen the Spencers in a week, and her behaviour had been less than suave. She'd had trouble carrying on the simplest of conversations. She'd caught both her mother and Jan looking at her in puzzlement more than once. Her father had gotten annoyed with her when she failed to rally as usual to his cheerful insults. Even Jordy had pulled her aside to chew her out for ducking him in recent weeks, and asked her what the hell was the matter with her. Operation Above Suspicion had not gotten off to an auspicious start.

She tossed her keys on the side table, and stopped to consider her options. Running her hands through her hair, she tugged lightly as if to reboot her brain. She rejected going up to her room to write. The muse seemed to have temporarily--at least she hoped it was just temporarily--flown the coop.

No, she needed a mindless distraction. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was nearly time for The X-Files and decided a good dose of cinematic paranoia was just what she needed to take her mind off her own problems.

Opening the door to the basement, she could hear the television blaring from below. Not in the mood for company, she almost changed her mind, and then grumpily deciding she had as much right as her roommates to invade the TV room, she stomped down the stairs.

Michael looked up as she entered the room and threw herself on the couch beside him. He regarded her silently for a moment, and then asked, "What's got your tail in a knot?"

"Nothing!" she snapped at him, slouching down in the cushions and refusing to look at him.

"Uh huh," was the doubtful rejoinder as Michael wisely decided to remain silent. Five minutes passed as Terry glowered at the inoffensive screen while Michael snuck surreptitious glances at her.

Just as the eerie theme music came on, Terry threw back her head and yelled wordlessly. Michael regarded her with a grin. "Feel better now?" he asked.

Sheepishly, Terry nodded her head. Turning sideways to face him, she punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Sorry, Michael. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

He shrugged. "What are friends for? Want to tell me what's bugging you?"

Behind his light tone, she could detect real concern. She hesitated, but then said, "Nothing really. Just been one of those weeks, you know? And then tonight at Mom and Dad's, I couldn't seem to do anything right. Now I've got everyone mad at me."

Affectionate eyes regarded her gently. "I'm not mad at you."

Terry breathed out a sigh. "Yeah, and thank you for that. Dunno what I'd do if I was in your bad books too."

She leaned sideways and rested her head against his shoulder as he reached an arm around her to pull her closer. They sat quietly watching the show together, and then Michael spoke softly.

"If you do want to talk about anything, you know I'm always here for you, right?"

"I know, Michael. Thank you."

She gave him a half-hug, grateful for his steadfast friendship. She knew she could tell him about her newly discovered feelings for Jan and he would listen non-judgmentally, but she also knew he would try to talk her out of them which was looking more and more like a hopeless proposition.

It wasn't like she hadn't done the same thing over the last week. She'd reasoned and argued with herself endlessly while she walked her route each day, and in the quiet of her garret each night. No amount of logic had made a dent, nor had her absence from the Spencer household dimmed her feelings in the slightest.

Seeing Jan tonight at her parents' house, her throat had closed, quivers racked her knees and dizziness had swept over her. She'd covered by bolting to the kitchen on some pretext until she got her rebellious body under control. At this rate, she thought ruefully, I'm going to have to start carrying smelling salts.

Terry and Michael sat in amiable companionship as the television drew them deeper into the current conspiracy arc. Suddenly the phone rang loudly beside them, and they both jumped. Laughing at their mutual reaction, Michael reached over his side of the couch and grabbed the receiver.

"Hello," he said casually as Terry pulled away a little, stretching out tired limbs. She returned her attention to the screen, only to look back when Michael sat bolt upright and assumed a more formal tone.

"Oh, hello Dad. It's nice to hear from you. How's Mother?"

Terry could see Michael assume the posture of the Seaton scion his parents had raised him to be. She couldn't help grinning at the contrast to his usual easy-going slouch, but then her grin faded as Michael turned distinctly pale.

"Of course, Dad. I'll be delighted to see you both. Shall I pick you up at the airport then, or will you be taking a limo to your hotel?" Michael listened for a moment, and then continued, "That sounds fine. I'll see you once you're settled in and we can go out for dinner. I'll be looking forward to your call."

Terry watched as her friend reached out a shaky hand and hung the phone up. She waited for him to say something, and when he didn't, she finally nudged him. "Folks coming for a visit?"

He turned an anguished face towards her, then jumped up and started walking jerkily back and forth.

"Oh God, Terry! What am I gonna do? Dad's got a two-day conference this week and they're flying in from Toronto tomorrow. Mother's coming along so they can both have a visit with me. Why would they do that? They never come to Calgary. Ever! Ohgodohgodohgod!"

If Michael hadn't been so obviously upset, Terry would have laughed at him, but she'd never seen the usually debonaire young man so agitated. He was making her dizzy and she finally grabbed his arm, hauling him back to the couch.

"Michael! Get a hold of yourself. What's the big deal? So your parents are going to drop in for a visit. So what? It's only for a couple of days. I'm looking forward to meeting them."

Michael stared at her like she'd just started spewing pea soup. "Are you nuts?" he demanded. "The Seatons never leave Toronto except on holidays and errands of doom. If they're coming to see me, disaster is imminent!"

"Oh now you're being neurotic. Your father has a business trip and your mom's coming along to see her son. What's so ominous about that?"

"Dad does not do business trips to anywhere other than New York or London. He leaves national trips to his minions. Nope, if they're coming out here, it's to drop some kind of bomb on me." Michael stopped, and then gasped. "I know what it is! They're going to start pressuring me to get engaged."

"They're what?!" Terry sputtered in disbelief. "Are you telling me that they don't know you're not the, um, 'marrying' kind? You never told me that!"

Michael dropped his head in his hands, the picture of abject misery. "I know. It was a little hard to 'fess up that I was too gutless to tell them. They're expecting me to carry on the family name and they think I've sort of got an arrangement with this old friend of the family."

Terry gaped at him. "Um, Michael, are you sure they don't know? I mean, it's not like you're a flaming queen or anything, but you're not exactly..."

She trailed off, not sure how to tell him his orientation was apparent for anyone with eyes to see.

Michael turned his head sideways, eyeing her from within cupped hands. He gave a small rueful grin and said, "Yeah, well, parents tend to only see what they want to see, and when I'm around them, I do try and live up to their image of me. Besides there was always Patsy around to divert suspicion."

"Patsy? Who's she? Your beard?" Terry asked quizzically, unable to picture Michael romantically involved with a woman.

"I suppose in a way, but really she was just an old friend. Our fathers were business associates, our mothers were friends, we lived in the same neighbourhood, and we've been pals for as long as I can remember."

"Well surely she must know then, Michael. She's not expecting a proposal, is she?"

Michael winced. "Patsy's lived a very cloistered life, Ter. I'm not sure she even knows there are alternative lifestyles." He groaned. "It was just easier to let her and everyone else assume we had an 'understanding'. I knew she wouldn't push me while I was in school and it took the pressure off me not seeing other women, ya know?"

Terry nodded sympathetically. She could see how it happened, but if that was what the senior Seatons were coming out here about, her friend was about to do some fancy stepping to get around parental expectations. Since Michael was an only child, they clearly expected him to carry on the family dynasty and it was going to be sticky to say the least when they found out he had no interest in doing so. Suddenly a thought occurred to her.

"Michael, you're not going to do something stupid like go through with this, are you?"

When dead silence met her question, her eyes widened. "Michael, you can't do that, not to yourself, and not to Patsy. It's not fair to either of you."

"Wouldn't be the first time it happened," he mumbled miserably.

Her own problems now long forgotten in the midst of her friend's startling revelations, Terry shook her head at the predicament he was in. Never having hidden her sexuality from her family, she found it difficult to accept that Michael might be forced into a loveless marriage by unwitting parents. Wracking her brain, she tried to find a way out for him, only to start in surprise as he suddenly bolted upright.
"Ohmigawd! What if they want to see my room while they're here?" Michael blurted.

He jumped over the couch and dashed for his room. The next thing Terry heard was paper being ripped from his walls and she knew his beloved Brad Pitt poster had just bitten the dust. As she heard a second long rip, she winced. Aw, not the James Dean poster too! She shook her head and looked up as he appeared in his doorway holding the remains of two large posters.

"I don't suppose you could have just taken them down carefully and let me store them for you until they left?" she remarked dryly.

Michael looked down at the paper hanging in strips from his hands. "Aw, shit!"

At the look of stunned desolation on her friend's face, Terry couldn't maintain a poker face any longer. Despite the looming family crisis, it felt good to release all the strain of the past week in gales of laughter.

After a moment, Michael joined her, ruefully chuckling at his own overreaction. Finally he choked out, "You don't think they'll inspect my underwear drawer, do you?"

"You mean the pink silk boxers? I dunno, Michael. You might want to invest in some butch flannels for the occasion." Terry stopped, looked at Michael, and then howled with renewed laughter at the thought. Helplessly the two leaned against each other, until Michael quieted and asked, "God, Terry. What am I going to do?"

Sobering, Terry sat up and took Michael's hand. She couldn't think of an answer, and hoped that her unspoken support would be enough for the moment. After long moments of silence, she said, "Why don't we wait until we see what exactly they want and take it from there, okay?"

Michael nodded wordlessly, appearing to accept the wisdom of that course, but Terry noted the unusual lines of worry on his face and gripped his hand tighter.

*********

"What time are they supposed to get here?" Terry asked a nervously pacing Michael.

"Their flight arrives at six-thirty and by the time they get to their hotel, it'll probably be close to eight or so."

"Then you've got lots of time yet. Why don't you sit down before you wear a hole in the rug?"

Michael sighed, but finally stopped and dropped into the nearest chair. He tugged on his dark blue pants until they hung properly, and then flicked bits of lint off his gray tweed blazer. As his hands drifted to his muted silk tie, tugging and adjusting its perfect knot, Terry shook her head. Who needs windmills? She mused. This boy is putting out enough nervous energy to power the entire province all on his own.

Trying to distract Michael, she asked, "So how much have you told your parents about your life out here?"

He blinked at her absently. "Oh you know, stuff about sharing a house with you two, how my studies are going, shows I've seen and concerts I've gone to."

He paused and a genuine smile crossed his lips. "Mom used to take me to Roy Thompson and Massey Hall all the time when I was a kid and we had season tickets for the TSO. I miss that, you know?"

He glanced almost shyly at Terry, who smiled. Michael rarely spoke of his life back in Toronto, and even less of his family. "Didn't your Dad go along with you?" she asked, wanting to keep him talking.

He snorted. "Not likely! Dad was only interested in business and golf. I think he was glad when I was old enough to go with Mom so she stopped trying to drag him with her. But Mom and I used to make a really big deal of it. We'd go out for dinner, all dressed up to the nines, and she'd always talk to me like another adult, never like I was an annoying kid. Once we got to the Hall, we'd both get lost in the music, and when we got home, we'd spend hours talking about what we'd just heard."

"She sounds pretty special, Michael," Terry observed softly.

He nodded slowly, studying his hands. "She is. Actually, in his own way, my Dad's a pretty decent fellow too."

"Are you sure they wouldn't understand, Michael? Maybe you should just..."

Michael cut her off abruptly. "No, you don't get it. My father's views are very, very conservative. I can remember sitting at the dinner table, listening to him rave about 'those damned Liberals' in Ottawa, and the way the Charter of Rights was going to be the ruin of the country. Shortly after I figured out for myself that I was gay, there was a scandal at his company when a senior VP was found to be cheating on his wife with a man. Hell, Ter. You'd have thought the world was going to come crumbling down the way he ranted and railed. It was all he talked about for a whole month, and I'm pretty sure he was instrumental in getting the man to 'retire' for the good of the company."

"Okay, maybe your father wouldn't be receptive, but what about your mother?"

"Well, Mom's no doormat, that's for sure. She's never let Dad make up her mind for her in her life, but I think in this case, she'd probably agree with him. I'm pretty sure she's looking forward to grandchildren one day."

He stopped and looked up at an attentive Terry with sad eyes. "We were really close when I was growing up. I don't want to sound like a cliché, but Mom and I were the best of friends back then."

"So what happened, Michael?"

"When I was sixteen, I fell in love for the first time. He was a classmate at my private school. Once I accepted my feelings for him, I understood that a divide had opened between my parents and I--one that I realized couldn't be crossed. I knew that what I felt, what I was, wouldn't be acceptable to them at all, so I just withdrew into myself. I doubt Dad even noticed, but Mom did. She didn't understand it of course, but I know she sensed it. I would catch her looking at me, like she was trying to figure me out, but I'm sure she wrote it off to normal teenage angst. It became easier for both of us to just stay in separate worlds, and only meet on neutral ground."

Terry contemplated this surprising insight into her friend's life. "That's really sad, Michael. I wish it had been easier for you."

He laughed with no hint of humour. "Yeah well, we can't all have Emily and Gord for parents, can we?"

Terry started to reply, then looked over Michael's shoulders out the front window. "Uh, Michael, did you say you were expecting them in around eight?"

"Yeah," he muttered, still staring at his highly polished footwear. "Why?"

"Because a black limo just pulled up in front of our house, and I don't think its Claire."

Michael blanched, then whirled to look out the window. "It's them! They're early! I'm not ready. I can't do this. Maybe you could tell them..."

Terry grabbed her friend, and pulled him into a tight hug until he calmed down a little. Then she ran a quick hand over his hair, smoothing it into place and nudged him towards the front door. Looking back over his shoulder, he asked her pleadingly, "You'll hang around, won't you?"

She nodded her assent, just as the front doorbell rang. Michael straightened his shoulders then reached for the doorknob to allow his parents into his world.

As the door swung open, Terry had a quick impression of a very large man standing there. As Michael moved aside to let his parents in, she saw the man extend his hand and shake Michael's vigorously while greeting him in a loud baritone and clapping him on the shoulder.

Michael's father was a tall, burly man, in a sharp, well-cut, navy blue suit, with penetrating gray eyes and a monk like fringe of incongruously curly hair. James Seaton wouldn't have looked out of place on a football field, and she had a hunch part of his business success was due to his intimidating size and manner.

A slender woman moved quietly up behind him and waited for her turn to greet their son. Terry smiled to herself. There was certainly no doubt which parent Michael took after. The woman's slight build, delicate features and intelligent, deep blue eyes were the feminine incarnation of her son. Unlike her husband, the woman cast formality aside and wrapped her son in a warm hug, releasing him only to arm's length in order to cast a maternal eye over him.

"I'm glad to see you're not wasting away out here, Michael," she declared, in the time-honoured fashion of mothers convinced their offspring will starve once they fly the nest.

"Aw, Mom," Michael groaned. "You know I can cook. Heck, I can even sew a button on if I have to."

Terry stifled a snort of laughter, thinking of last Halloween when Michael had created hand-sewn costumes for both of them from his own original patterns. Yes, her friend could definitely sew but he'd probably prefer she didn't bring that fact up right now.

The older woman glanced over her son's shoulder and chided him gently, "Michael, where are your manners? Aren't you going to make introductions?"

Terry stepped forward, as Michael turned and reached out a hand to her. "Mom, Dad, this is one of my very best friends and roommates, Terry Sanderson. Terry, these are my parents, James and Elizabeth Seaton."

Terry held out her hand politely. "I'm pleased to finally meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Seaton."

James Seaton enveloped her hand in a firm grip, giving it a quick shake before releasing it and eyeing her intently. Elizabeth Seaton smiled at Terry, taking the younger woman's hand in both of hers.

"We've heard so much about you, Terry. I've always been very glad that my son has such a good friend out here."

Turning to Michael, Elizabeth took his arm and directed him into the living room. "Why don't we make ourselves comfortable, dear?"

James and Terry followed, and sat in chairs flanking the couch where mother and son had settled.

"I thought you weren't getting in until later," Michael began, focusing on his mother.

"We hadn't planned to, darling, but then an opportunity came up for us to catch a ride with Edward in his private plane. You remember Edward Bell, your father's senior partner, don't you, Michael?"

When Michael nodded his recollection, his father chimed in. "Ed's daughter is having some kind of problem out in Vancouver and he had to fly out to straighten matters around, so he offered to drop us off en route. It was a lot more convenient and got us here early enough so I was able to arrange an advance meeting with a client. I'll have to leave for that in an hour or so."

"Are you talking about Christy Bell, Dad? I knew her. She was a couple of years ahead of me in school. What kind of trouble is she in? I hope it's not serious."

James snorted. "If it is, Ed will get it cleared up. He didn't want to go into it, but from what I understood, the silly girl went and got in with a bad crowd. He's going to bring her back to Toronto as quickly as he can wrap up her affairs there. Should never have let her go to that crackpot university in the first place."

Terry and Michael exchanged a quick sympathetic glance for the hapless Christy, and then Terry noticed Elizabeth watching their byplay with interest.

"Uh, can I offer you some coffee?" Terry asked hastily.

"Tea would be lovely, if you have some, dear," Elizabeth answered graciously. "But please don't go to any trouble."

"No trouble at all," Terry assured her, and stood up to make her exit.

Michael jumped up too, saying, "I think I'd better give her a hand. Terry's not allowed in the kitchen alone for all of our sakes." He grinned at Terry's look of chagrin. "You know it's true, Ter. Who was responsible for half the fire department showing up at our door the last time she attempted to cook dinner?"

"But that wasn't my fault!" Terry griped as Michael tugged her out of the room. "Who knew you had to peel the stupid things before you put them in the oven? You'd think they'd put clearer instructions on the package!"

Terry could hear the chuckles behind her as Michael propelled her down the hall and into the kitchen. Lowering her voice, she whispered to her friend, "Besides, I didn't see you complaining about men in uniform showing up at our door."

She snickered at Michael's outraged expression and dodged an elbow. Entering the kitchen, she leaned against the counter as he fussed about putting on a kettle and setting out a teapot and cups. "I could have handled it, you know," she remarked mildly.

"Uh huh. Sure you could." Michael turned to her with a smirk. "Why don't you get down the tea bags?"

Terry eyed the multitude of cupboards. "Okay..."

As Michael snickered, she frowned at him. "I can find them, just give me a minute."

"By the time you find them, my parents will be back in Ontario," Michael quipped as he reached high into a corner cupboard and pulled down a brightly coloured tin.

"Well, if you're going to hide them like they were buried treasure, no wonder I didn't know where they were," Terry grinned, glad that her friend's mood had lightened. "Your folks seem like pretty decent people, Michael. I don't know what you were so worried about."

Michael glanced over at her as he continued his preparations, and then said wryly, "If I wasn't carrying the weight of parental expectations, I'd probably think they were lovely folks too. C'mon, grab the cups and we'll head back into the lion's den."

*********

Terry leaned back in her chair, pleasantly surprised at how smoothly things had gone, and how quickly an hour had passed. Michael and Elizabeth had carried most of the conversation, catching up on old friends, what was happening on the Toronto concert scene, eastern politics, and what Michael was up to in Calgary.

She was impressed by how adroitly Michael steered the conversation away from any potential trouble areas and back into the safer waters of tales from school and of his roommates. Even his posture and bearing befitted the Seaton scion that he was born to be. With his back straight and shoulders square, Michael easily fit the image of an up and coming young businessman in training. He spoke firmly and fluently, never stumbling as he engaged in give and take with his parents. His feet were planted solidly on the floor, and one hand rested easily on his knee, while the other wielded a teacup as if he'd been raised in fine salons, which Terry mused, he probably had been.

Drifting mentally from the discussion of the Seatons' upcoming winter vacation to the Mediterranean, Terry considered her friend's chameleon-like veneer in his parents' presence. Rather than the amiable, often profane party-boy she lived with, a sophisticated, socially adept young man sat in front of her, conversing in perfect diction with the elegant woman who'd raised him.

Terry now understood how Michael could carry off a double life right under his parent's noses. She mused that her friend could have been a terrific actor if he'd been inclined that way, then had to smile at the thought that such a choice would probably horrify his family as much as coming out would. Hearing James' deep voice rumble, she brought her attention back to the conversation.

"I'm going to have to go if I'm going to make my meeting. Listen, Michael, why don't you come along with me? It'll be good preparation for you, meeting our clients and seeing the way we do things." James stood as if the issue was already decided, while Michael looked helplessly at Terry.

"But Dad, I can't just leave Mother by herself."

"Nonsense, I'll have the driver drop her at the hotel, and once we're done, we'll all meet for dinner."

Elizabeth cut in smoothly. "Actually James, I think if Terry doesn't mind, I'll stay here until you two are finished. I'd certainly rather enjoy such lovely company than look at four dreary walls in a hotel room."

"Mother, you're booked into a suite in the Four Seasons. I'd hardly call it 'dreary', and besides, Terry's probably got her own plans." Michael was starting to sound a little desperate, but his mother waved off his concerns.

"Terry, would you mind keeping an old lady company for awhile, or did you have other matters you needed to attend to?"

Terry got the impression she'd just been issued a royal command couched with exquisite politeness. While she doubted Elizabeth could actually have her head lopped off if she disobeyed, she didn't want to make things harder for Michael, even though she got the uneasy feeling she was about to face an inquisition. Keeping her tone neutral she said, "Of course, Mrs. Seaton. You're more than welcome to wait here."

"There, that's settled then. Come on, Michael, we don't want to keep the client waiting." James started walking towards the front door, followed by one slightly wilted son. As he opened the door, a hearty voice could be heard from the front step.

"Hey, Mikey. Since when did ya get such fancy wheels?"

Terry bolted out of her chair and dashed by a startled James and a frozen Michael at the front door. Flinging her arms around an astonished Randy, she planted an enthusiastic kiss on his lips.

"Parents. Play along!" she whispered frantically, hoping Randy would catch on quickly. Out loud, she said, "Randy, sweetie. I forgot all about our date tonight. I'm so sorry, something's come up. Can I have a rain check?"

She spun the dumbstruck man around and locking her arm around his, marched him back down the path towards his truck. By the time he'd gotten his bearings, he was standing beside the driver's door, looking at Terry in bemusement.

She pulled his head down towards hers, and pretending to nuzzle his ear whispered, "I'm sorry, Randy. It was an emergency. I'll have Michael call you when he gets home later, okay? His parents are in from Toronto and he has to go out to dinner with them.

"Okay, darlin'," Randy grinned, opening his door. "Tell him from me that he's an idiot for not canceling our date but I'll forgive him under the circumstances, although I'm thinking seriously about changing teams after that greeting!"

Terry couldn't help blushing a little at his teasing. As the big man slid behind his wheel, he looked up and added, "Oh yeah, and tell him he did a damn fine job of doing the deer in the headlights bit."

As the two snickered at the usually urbane Michael's stunned reaction, Randy tossed in a parting shot. "I think that boy of mine owes you big, Terry."

Terry groaned as she leaned her head against the truck door. "God, Randy, you don't know the half of it. I have to entertain his mother while he goes off with his Dad. I think I'll be busting into that new bottle of CC later tonight."

Randy laughed, then started his truck and pulled away, waving at Terry as he went. Terry started back up the walk, drained by the ebbing adrenaline and the prospect of spending the next couple of hours in Elizabeth's formidable company. Passing Michael and James, she smiled slightly at her friend's expression of pathetic gratitude.

"I hope we didn't mess up your plans, young lady," boomed James, putting out a hand to stop her. "Was your boyfriend upset?"

"Not at all, Mr. Seaton. Randy's a very understanding guy, and I'll make it up to him tomorrow."

Terry was amazed at how glibly the false implication came to her lips. Sheesh, maybe Michael's not the only one who could have been an actor!

As she climbed the stairs to the house, she saw Elizabeth standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and an amused look on her face. Terry stopped short, uncomfortably convinced that those piercing blue eyes were looking right through her. Shaking off the notion, she climbed the rest of the way and followed the older woman back into the house.

As Terry was about to resume her seat in the living room, Elizabeth gestured her over to Michael's vacated spot on the couch beside her. Feeling like she was entering the lioness' den without so much as a chair to defend herself, Terry settled uneasily on the old couch.

Reaching for the teapot, Elizabeth poured what was left in her cup. Seeing a small avenue of escape, Terry asked, "Would you like some more, Mrs. Seaton? It'll only take a few minutes."

Elizabeth smiled. "From what my son says, that's a pretty dangerous offer, Terry. But thank you, this will be enough."

She sipped from her cup and allowed the silence to build between them. Terry found herself thinking inanely that the woman's dress probably cost more than her entire wardrobe put together.

Elizabeth Seaton was exactly what she thought a Rosedale socialite would look like, not that Terry generally frequented those circles. The calm, sophisticated woman exuded grace, breeding and old money. She controlled her surrounding without so much as lifting one well-manicured finger, yet Terry didn't sense any hostility or arrogance from her.

After a few moments that seemed to a nerve-wracked Terry to last a few years, Elizabeth set her cup gently on the coffee table and leaned back to look intently at the young woman fidgeting beside her.

"That was your boyfriend then, was it, Terry? I do hope that he won't mind me stealing you away for a little while."

Terry's eyes darted away from Elizabeth's soft smile, as she stumbled, "Uh, yeah, well, Randy's a great guy. He didn't mind me putting off our date until tomorrow."

"That's very considerate of him considering the short notice. It's always nice when our significant others are understanding, don't you think?

Terry nodded mutely, afraid to open her mouth for fear of incriminating herself.
"Have you two been seeing each other for very long?"

God, Michael! You are going to owe me sooooo big! Terry thought sourly, then aloud, "Not that long really. We met earlier this year." Well that part's true anyway.

"Interesting." Elizabeth studied Terry casually. "I was under the impression from Michael that you were gay. Perhaps I misunderstood him?"

Shit, now what? You won't tell them about yourself, but you tell them about me! Terry shot mental daggers at her absent friend and tried frantically to come up with something plausible. "Uh, what exactly did Michael say to give you that impression?"

The older woman smiled sweetly. "I believe his exact words were, 'Terry's gay'."

Oh yeah, no mistaking that! Damnit, damnit, damnit! I'm gonna kill that boy! Terry fumed internally and slouched further into the couch trying futilely to escape the notice of her inquisitor.

Suddenly she heard the older woman chuckle softly. Lifting her eyes from an intense study of the faded carpet, she was startled to see blue eyes bright with merriment focused on her.

"My son certainly left you in quite a pickle, didn't he?"

Terry couldn't help but respond to the woman's amusement. "Yeah, and I'm gonna kill him when he comes home!"

"So why the charade, Terry?"

Terry fell mute again, unable to come up with one single likely sounding reason on the spur of the moment and unwilling to lie further to this woman.

"Terry." An iron velvet voice commanded her attention. "I want to tell you a little story. Will you listen, please?"

When Terry nodded silently, Elizabeth continued. "I realize you don't know me and I have a hunch my son doesn't speak much about us either."

Terry's quick guilty glance confirmed this. "You have no reason to think I'm anything but an idle, rich woman, living on Glen Road and meeting other 'ladies who lunch' at Prego every Friday, but I assure you that's not the entire picture."

Elizabeth sighed slightly. "When I met James twenty-five years ago, I was actually student teaching in Kingston. He was in his last year at Queen's, and the brashest young man I'd ever met. He was involved in a dozen different clubs, played football for the Golden Gaels, and was completing his MBA. His father was holding a position open for him in one of the top firms in Toronto, and as far as James could see, the whole world was his oyster."

She laughed then at some private memory. "What the dear man hadn't counted on was falling for an equally stubborn, and often hostile young woman with diametrically opposed political views. I thought he was a spoiled egotist, interested in nothing but furthering his family's already impressive wealth. I'm sure he thought I was a raving socialist. It took him six months to convince me even to date him, and three years before I'd agree to marry him. He proposed fifteen times before I said yes."

She looked wryly at Terry as the younger woman chuckled. "He was nothing if not persistent, but my point is, I was not always what you see now. In fact, my family had been railroaders for generations back. Family legend has it that a MacEwan was even present for the driving of the final spike, but that's ancient history."

Terry watched Elizabeth intently, fascinated by the insight into this complex woman. Unconsciously she leaned slightly towards her, eager to see where this was going.

"I won't say I don't enjoy the fruits of my husband's labours, but I've also tried over the years to find more satisfactory uses of my time than just lunching and shopping. One of the things I've been involved with for quite a number of years is fund-raising for such organizations as the AIDs Committee of Toronto and hospices like Casey House and Trinity Home."

Elizabeth paused, and Terry watched the sadness come over her face. The woman's eyes dropped to her hands, then raised again with an unspoken pain in them. "I've met some wonderful people through my work, but I've also seen far too many beautiful young men die long before their natural time."

Terry tensed, sensing where Elizabeth was going. "Terry, I'm not a fool, nor am I blind to my son's nature, no matter how deluded he is about me. At a guess, I'd say Randy was here today to pick up Michael, not you, isn't that so?"

"Uh, Mrs. Seaton, don't you think you should be talking to Michael about this?" Terry managed to get out.

Elizabeth sighed. "It's not like I haven't tried, but he can be the most evasive creature on this earth when he doesn't want to be pinned down on something."

"Boy, don't I know that!" Terry muttered, then glanced up quickly to see her companion smile sadly.

"It's alright, Terry. You haven't told me anything, and really it's not like I need the confirmation anyway. I think I've known almost as long as he has, though I was in denial for a few years." She rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly. "I've been so afraid for him, so afraid he'd end up like those young men I saw at the hospices."

A note of pleading entered her voice then. "Please, Terry. Just tell me if he's happy and if he's safe. I'm not asking you to break any confidences."

Terry hesitated, unsure of what to say to avoid breaking faith with her friend. She thought of how her mother would feel in the same place as Elizabeth was and decided to trust her instincts. "Mrs. Seaton," she began carefully. "I think Michael's fairly happy and he's assured me he's being careful when I bug him about it."

Elizabeth observed her closely as if to read the meaning behind her words. Suddenly Terry found herself blurting out, "He thinks you guys are here to pressure him about getting married."

Shocked at what she'd let slip, she clapped a hand over her mouth only to hear Elizabeth's peals of laughter at her words. A grin began to work its way over her face, and she found herself joining in, chuckling at the absurdity of Michael's fears.

The tension lifted and both women leaned back, more at ease now in each other's company. Elizabeth regarded the younger woman, still smiling. "Exactly who did Michael think we wanted him to marry?"

"Some old friend of his named Patsy?" Terry suggested.

Elizabeth snorted. "Good lord! Does the boy think we're total idiots? Even James thinks that girl is the dimmest bulb in the box. She's a sweet thing, mind you, but living proof of the dangers of social inbreeding."

Terry laughed again at the woman's description. "So I take it she isn't exactly daughter-in-law material?"

"She isn't exactly dog-walker material," Elizabeth stated dryly.

A thought occurred to Terry. "Does Mr. Seaton know about Michael?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, James is not stupid, but he is utterly focused to the exclusion of anything outside the normal parameters of his world. It would no more occur to him that Michael's gay then it would that he's a Communist."

She stopped and looked at Terry gravely. "James loves his son, but I think he would have great difficulty with this and Michael's probably wise to keep it quiet for now."

The two women sat quietly for a few moments, comfortable now in their shared confidences. Finally Elizabeth broke the silence. "Is Randy a good man? Do you think it's serious?"

Terry considered the question. "Randy is definitely a good guy, there's no question about that. And he really does seem to care about Michael, but..."

She trailed off unsure about how much she could reveal to Michael's mother.

"But my son isn't one for monogamy?" Elizabeth inquired.

"That's part of it, I suppose, but it's also that Michael got badly burned last year and he's been leery of long-term relationships ever since. Still, I think if anyone can get him to settle down, it'd be Randy. I don't think I've ever seen Michael as relaxed and contented with anyone as with that oversized oil rigger, and Randy seems just as happy to be with him too."

"I'm glad. I'd love to see Michael settle down permanently, though God knows how we'd ever break it to James."

Terry grinned to herself, thinking of her own mom. Eastern socialite or western matriarch, mothers weren't all that different in their aspirations for their children.

Continued in Part 4