The Light Fantastic


by LA Tucker


Part XVII :  I've Got a Secret

For disclaimers, see Part I


"How about I take you home, or better yet, how about you come home with me?", said Chloe, her voice betraying the real meaning behind those words.

Sara, seeing that Nelson and Jeanette were patiently waiting for her in Nelson's truck on the far side of the parking lot, waved two fingers at them, a sign that she would be a few minutes.  She and Chloe were leaning up against Chloe's car, play practice for the day finally over.  Sara carefully studied Chloe's face once again.

"Sounds really good, honey, but I think you should get some rest tonight.  You just got back to work today, and you don't need me hanging around getting you more tired." Sara said sincerely.

Chloe plucked at the elbow of Sara's jacket. "I feel much better. I've told you that a dozen times today.  I don't think it would hurt ..."

Sara interrupted her. "Now, listen, someone has to look out for your welfare, and I've elected myself to that position."  She let her voice drop to a lower tone. "I want you fully recovered and good as new before ..."

Chloe's bit of tiredness showed up when she replied, irritated, "My throat's fine, the aches are gone, I've been pretty much sleeping non-stop for the last four days, I did nothing today but sit around in chairs and seats at work and here."  She heard the crankiness in her voice, and tried to lighten it. "I miss you, Sara. I just want to spend a little time alone with you. I haven't seen you since Tuesday,  and I need some ... alone time with you."

Sara pushed back her natural inclination to want to lean in and kiss Chloe for her words.  She gathered her wits, and said in a commanding, no arguments tone, "Not tonight, Chloe.  I want you to get more rest, Dr. Sara's orders."  She reached and quickly stroked Chloe's arm, and gave her an apologetic smile. "I miss you too."  She looked over at Nelson's truck again, and then turned back to Chloe. "Gotta go. Now go home and get better, I'll call you later."  She pinched the end of Chloe's nose, and giving her one last smile, strode off across the parking lot.

Chloe was feeling very testy now because Sara didn't let her get her way, and Chloe wasn't one to accept defeat easily. She had lied to Sara, her body did ache, but not from the lingering effects of her illness. When Chloe was feeling her worst earlier this week, her sickness effectively muted any physical longings she was harboring.  Now that she was feeling better, and wasn't concentrating on all of the symptoms that had plagued her, her body was taking Chloe's mental longings for Sara, and multiplying them into physical urges that were becoming more and more distracting with every minute that passed.  Even though Chloe was working in the theatre this afternoon, and Sara was down the long hallway in the gymnasium,  Chloe swore she could feel her physical presence from that distance.  She felt as if their bodies were calling to each other.  Now it appeared that Chloe was the only one feeling these stirrings, and she felt rejected by Sara's cautious refusal to spend the evening together.  The hell with this. Chloe got into her car, and started it up.  She apparently doesn't miss me the way I miss her. I couldn't make it any plainer,  I was practically rubbing myself on her at some points today, and she didn't react at all. Chloe watched the pick-up truck leave the parking lot. Maybe we had too much time together already this week.  Maybe this is her way of telling me she needs her space. Chloe growled aloud, then let out a small laugh when she realized it sounded very much like the growl Sara made when she was frustrated about something. I'm growly.  Great.  She put the car into gear, and headed home.

Chloe had changed into a comfortable pair of sweatpants, doffed her bra, and pulled a T-shirt over her head.  She ate a small dinner of leftovers, did her dishes, and walked through each room of her already clean, neat house, straightening things that really didn't need to be straightened.  She thought several times that she wanted to call Sara, but it was only over an hour since they had parted, and Chloe was getting increasingly irritated with herself for obsessing about her.  The more she tried to stop thinking about her, the more she did think about her.  Christ, I'm turning into a needy bitch. She thought briefly about releasing some of her pent up frustration by taking matters into her own hands, but for some reason, that idea didn't appeal to her. She was idly plumping the throw pillows on her couch, when she began to laugh again.  I'm feeling up the pillows, for god's sakes. I've lost it. She began chuckling again, when her giggles were interrupted by a knock on her front door.

Chloe jumped up from the couch, and looked out her peephole onto her front porch, expecting to see Marcy standing there.  Instead, she saw a distorted view of a blue eyed, dark haired woman grinning right at the location of the peephole.  Chloe's heart leapt, and she threw open the door, and grabbed Sara, who had already opened the screen door and was standing inside of it, and hauled her inside her home.  Sara was grinning slyly, but the look was lost on Chloe, who was simultaneously pulling Sara's head down to hers, and shutting the door behind her.  Chloe's lips were seeking Sara's even before the door clicked shut. The momentum of Chloe's attack pushed Sara up against the door, and Chloe took this opportunity to start climbing all over her like a jungle gym. Chloe had eight hands, three mouths, four legs,  fifty fingers, and they were all over Sara, all at once.

Whatever clever greeting Sara had in mind when she had decided to surprise the small librarian, was immediately lost in the fury of the redhead's assault.  Chloe began a endless moan, which called to Sara's senses, and the moaning became a duet. Chloe's hands found their rounded targets and latched on.  Then her lips stopped their wandering and centered and locked onto Sara's mouth, forcing a insistent tongue deep within, so hard and so strong that Sara felt her ears ringing by the sheer forcefulness of it. Sara's hand, still clutching onto car keys, somehow found her jacket pocket, and dropped them in. Both hands were now freed and Chloe was sucking mightily and rhythmically on her tongue, driving her half crazy.  Sara popped one eye open, and quickly tried to survey the room. Couch.  Her hands went to Chloe's rounded butt, and swiftly lifted her, and started walking them haltingly towards the sofa. Once there, never breaking their kiss, Sara bent her knees and deposited Chloe onto her back, following down with her until ...

The phone rang. And rang. And rang.  Chloe's erotic moans continued, feeling the weight of Sara's body settling down on top of her. The answering machine picked up as Sara was nudging a knee between Chloe's thighs and settling her thigh high into the apex between them.

The machine in the kitchen, set on loud volume so it could be heard throughout the house, boomed with the sound of Marcy's voice. "Chloe?  Pick up.  It's Marcy. I need to talk to you."

Sara could feel the heat emanating onto her thigh from where it was settled between Chloe's legs. Chloe had taken a breather from the kiss, and was running her tongue up Sara's neck, and she was reveling in the position of Sara's knee. Sara's hand was under the bottom of her T-shirt, stroking a path ever higher over the smooth skin of Chloe's stomach.

"Chloe, dammit, pick up. It's important. I mean it. I know you're there."  The answering machine clicked off.

Sara's hand had just made contact with a newly hardened portion of Chloe's body, and her fingertips lightly caressed it.  Chloe arched up into Sara's hand, her moans increasing in volume when she heard the heated growl that slid from Sara's throat when she made that heavenly contact. A shot of heat traveled down both their bodies and settled, warming them below their waists. Chloe's hands settled in Sara's dark hair, pulling her in for another kiss, and Sara's other hand began tugging at Chloe's T-shirt, pulling it up higher so her hand could join its mate in fully exploring Chloe's breasts.

Ring.  Pant.  Ring.  Groan.  Ring.

"Dammit, Chloe,  I don't have time for this.  Pick up. IT'S AN EMERGENCY."

Chloe gasped for air, and placed her hands on Sara's shoulders, and pushed a little as Sara simultaneously lifted.  Chloe whined, "I don't BELIEVE this!"  She disentangled regretfully from Sara, and stood up, rather shakily, straightened her T-shirt and gave Sara a disbelieving look which Sara returned. Sara sat up on the couch, and watched as Chloe made her way into the kitchen, and picked up the phone.

"Marcy?", she said, rather breathlessly. "What's wrong?"

Marcy, irritated but thankful Chloe had finally answered, huffed, "You name it.  Listen, I need to talk to you. Now."

Chloe could hear the deflated tone of Marcy's voice, and did her best to concentrate on it, rather than the feeling between her legs, and the cause of that feeling, who was waiting for her on the couch.

Chloe hesitated, then her better self took over. "Sure.  You want to come by?  Sara's here,  you could ..."

"I want to talk to you, not Sara. No offense, but just ... you.  You think you could come to my house?  I'm not feeling my best ..."

"Give me a half hour. Can't you tell me ... ?"

"No.  See you soon. And Chloe ... thanks."  Marcy hung up.

Chloe dropped the phone into place, and sighed, staring at it. She's my best friend, she needs me. She turned and saw that Sara's eyes were watching her from the couch. Chloe ran a hand through her hair, and gave Sara a small smile as she walked back into the living room, and dropped back onto the couch. She propped her head onto Sara's shoulder, and let out a heavy, frustrated sigh. Sara dropped an arm around Chloe, and pulled her close.  They stared, straight ahead, not focusing on anything but trying to get past their own disappointment.  Sara finally broke the silence.


Chloe rubbed her head on Sara's shoulder. "Jinxed."

Sara let out a growl.

Chloe smiled ruefully, and took Sara's hand into her own. "Yeah, Growly. Me too. I have to go over there.  She needs to talk to me about something. She sounds really upset."

Sara lifted a concerned eyebrow, and then drooped her shoulders a bit. I am going to die, and my obituary is going to say, 'She died of unnatural causes. Terminal frustration'.

Chloe ran her hand across Sara's cheek. "Look, I'm sorry. Listen, I'll run you home, and then ..."

Sara said, with a chuckle, "No need. Here."  She reached in her jacket pocket, and pulled out a plastic card. "Got it this afternoon before play practice. Dave took me."

Chloe took the card in her hand and examined it. Then she surprised Sara by lifting her head off her shoulder, and placing a good sized punch there instead.  "Bitch. NOBODY has a good driver's license picture. Nobody.  This is great!", she laughed. "Look at that wonderful smile on your face!  Can we get an 8 X 10 of this made?  What made you smile like that?" Chloe said wonderingly.

"The girl who was taking the pictures looked exactly like Drew Barrymore ..." Sara laughed, because that statement brought another light punch from Chloe.

"Bitch."  Chloe's mind turned over and grasped the reality of another situation. "So, this afternoon, when you were being so nonchalant after play practice, when I was throwing my lustful self at you ... and you were all calm ..."

"Yeah. That was sneaky, huh?  I wanted to surprise you, AND get you back for that 'mono' scare on Tuesday ..."

Chloe handed the card back to Sara, and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. "I'm the Pope. I forgive you, my child."  Chloe sighed, yet again, and put her feet more firmly onto the floor, and stood up.  She looked down at Sara. "I'm really glad you're driving again. Now there won't be any more excuses for us not ... "

"Yeah, " agreed Sara, looking into those green eyes that made her feel boneless. "Except for our family, our friends, high school students, town gossips, broken down cars and natural disasters."

"Don't remind me.  How'd you get here?"

Sara stood up; she knew that Chloe had to get over to Marcy's.  "Nelson's truck.  But I think Dave and I are going car shopping tomorrow.  I want one of my own."

Chloe grabbed her coat off the hook, and put it on, and grabbed her car keys from the small table by the door. She looked up into Sara's softly shining eyes, and got lost for a moment. "Get something sturdy. A Volvo.  A Subaru.  A Honda."

Sara returned her gaze. "Hell no.  I'm gonna get me a 'babe magnet' of a car. I do have a rep to preserve." Her eyes twinkled, and she dropped her head to give Chloe another breath stealing kiss.

Chloe murmured. "Listen you, you have yet to magnetize THIS babe. Try and keep your priorities straight, OK?"

One more kiss, and Sara said, "Yeah. I'll try and keep that in mind."

"Trust me."  Marcy called from her kitchen. "You're going to want a beer."

"All right. Bring me a beer." , Chloe called from the couch in Marcy's living room.  She let her eyes travel around the room again, always amazed and amused at the amount of colors and patterns the room held.  There were paintings, drawings and photographs seemingly covering every square inch of wall space, mostly works of Marcy's own doing. There were mobiles and hanging knotted things, coming down from the ceiling.  Shelves and tables held smaller objects d'art, sculptures and works in clay, recognizable forms and abstracts.  The room, as was the whole house, was a conglomeration of light and dark, swirls and straight lines, and so many harmonious colors that it was eclectic, not garish.  This was the house of a romantic, an eccentric, an independent soul, an artist.

Marcy gave Chloe her bottle of beer, and sank down in her usual place at the other end of the couch.  She grabbed her pack of cigarettes from her coffee table, lifted a brow, and said to Chloe. "I'm smokin'.  Don't give me any shit about it tonight."

Chloe knew that Marcy was always very gracious about not smoking when Chloe came over, so she knew something was very wrong. "OK."  She watched Marcy draw one out of her pack, and light it. She sat, patiently, waiting for Marcy to begin.

Marcy sighed, and let out a long stream of satisfying smoke. She tossed her lighter onto the coffee table, and then looked Chloe straight on.

"I called the doctor for my 'flu' results after play practice," she began, her voice very modulated and atonal. "Then I drove around. And around. Then I came here and called you."

Chloe's stomach and heart both did a little turning. She kept her gaze fixed on Marcy, who took a few more puffs and ran a hand through her hair before continuing.

"I'm pregnant." She looked at Chloe's expression of surprise. "Yeah, me, too.  I'm about 6 weeks. I don't have the flu, he said I may be a little run down, but mostly, it's been morning sickness that's been mowing me down for the last week or so." She watched as Chloe silently reached over, and extracted a cigarette for herself from Marcy's pack. "Help yourself. I plan on chain smoking every last one I have, which is, I think, around a pack and a half.  I have to quit. For me ... and the baby."

Chloe blew out her own smoke, and looked at her best friend. "So, what are you thinking about ... this?"

"Well, considering the initial shock of it, which I'm still dealing with, and the thought that there is something growing down here, " Marcy's hand traveled down and rubbed her belly, "I'd say I'm doing pretty shitty, considering."  She let out a rueful laugh, and shook her head at Chloe. "Sorry you weren't here to do the blue stick test with me this time.  That way we both could be sharing the shock and the joy." She said sarcastically, and then looked away from Chloe.

Oh man. Chloe remembered that time.  Marcy restlessly pacing, swearing up and down she didn't want children, raising her voice to the ceiling promising to give up sex if she wasn't with child.  Marcy's relief at the negative results of that test was so joyous and intense , Chloe thought her longtime friend might actually be seducing her, what with the way she was holding on to Chloe, rubbing her in relief and abandon, kissing her friend's face.  Chloe had finally settled her friend down, and had a small laugh to herself at the thought that all of that physical contact with Marcy was actually ... turning her on a little bit. Whew.

Chloe took a long drink from her beer. "Does Dave know?" Then she stopped, and before she could stop herself, she asked, seriously, "It is Dave's, right?"  She swore at herself for even saying something like that, but as well as she thought she knew Marcy, there was always that certain unpredictability about her.

Marcy was insulted for just a mere moment, and then blew it off. "Yeah, it's Dave's.  I may like men, Chloe, but I usually stick to one at a time. And no, he doesn't know.  I haven't made up my mind yet ... as to what I'm going to do."  Marcy looked at Chloe. "Funny thing is,  I should be talking to him right now, not you. But when I found out, you're the first person that I thought of, not Dave.  There's something intrinsically wrong with that line of thinking. I think. Who knows?"

Chloe stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray, knowing it wasn't the first or last one she'd be smoking this evening. Marcy looked at her, and asked, "What do you think?  About me being pregnant?"

Chloe didn't know what Marcy was fishing for here, what kind of statement Marcy wanted from Chloe. "Well," she began slowly, and searched in Marcy's brown eyes, "I'm not going to be happy about this unless you are, Marse.  That baby ..."  and she pointed at Marcy's abdomen, "will be either equally as loved or ... equally as not desired ... by me,  in support of what you want.  I'm not going to talk you into my agenda.  I've tried that before with smaller, inconsequential matters, and it's never worked.  So, I support you and any of the decisions you have to make. You come first, Marse. I'm not going to judge you.  I may try and stick my two cents in, but no, you always come first with me."  She smiled at her little speech of solidarity, and was pleased to see the relieved smile Marcy directed her way.

Marcy lit another cigarette, and picked up her bottle of water. "I know this won't come as any surprise to you.  I'm not sure that I want to have it."  She took a sip of her water, and then looked at Chloe. "Actually my first reaction is to not have it, and do whatever is necessary just to stop it now."  Marcy frowned, and pursed her lips. "What a great thing for me to say, huh?  No joy in Marcy about this bit of good news. I must sound like an absolute asshole creep."

Chloe leaned over towards her friend sitting so dejectedly on her end of the couch, and stroked her arm. "No, Marse, I understand. I've known you since the third grade, and not one time, never once, did you ever mention the desire to have 'mother' listed in your resume.  All you've ever said is how you had no desire to have children. So, no, your reaction to this doesn't surprise me in the slightest. Don't beat yourself up about it."

Marcy had so many completely alien emotions swirling in her brain at this moment, she didn't have the first clue as to what she thought. "I know this, I'm going to call and make an appointment for counseling about my ... options.  I want you to go with me."

"What about ... Dave?"

Marcy knew that this was going to come up, and also knew that Chloe was going to hate what she was about to say. "I'm not telling Dave.  Not until I have to."

"And when is 'until you have to', Marse?"

"I'm going to tell Dave, if, and only if, I decide to actually have the baby."  Here it comes.

"You mean, you won't tell him before, you won't tell him if you want to abort?  You aren't going to make these decisions together?"  Chloe's voice was becoming louder and more annoyed with each word that came out of her mouth.  When she saw Marcy silently agreeing with Chloe's statements,  she got pissed. "THIS is something entirely different than me supporting you as to whether you want to have a child or not, Marcy.  This is someone who should be involved in the process, I mean, he was there to help start this chain of events, right?"

Marcy took on a patient air. "He'll want me to have the baby. He'll want me to marry him."

"Well, that's where you two are headed, isn't it?  Engagement number 6 for you?"

"I don't want to marry him."

Chloe blinked, and couldn't find anything to say.

"I like him too much to marry him.  Or should I say, put myself in the position of promising to marry him. I don't want him to be Mr. Dumped at the Altar #6."

"Do you love him?  Are you in love with him?"

"I think so.  I know he's in love with me. He's said so, many times.  Frankly, I've been getting a little worried lately that he might be thinking of popping the question.  And now, this ..."  She threw her hands in the air. "I like him, I love him, and dammit, I even love his family. I think the world of Nelson, I can't tell you how glad I am that he's nearly a grown-up, and not a child that I would have deal with. I couldn't do that. Hell, I even love Sara." Marcy squinted her eyes at Chloe. "Don't you EVER tell her that, either.  I have the upper hand with that woman, and I don't ever want to lose it."

Chloe had to smile at that. But the smile soon disappeared. "Marcy, it's just not fair of you not to allow Dave into the decision making process. It's not right."

"I know it; you're right. But I look at it this way. If I decide to have an abortion, he never has to know that a baby existed. We can just go on from there. If I decide to have the baby, well, I know he'll be pleased, and want to 'do the right thing' by me. That part is negotiable. Either way, I get to keep Dave, no matter what my decision is."  Marcy, for the first time, looked like she was going to start crying. "If I decide to have an abortion, and he knows, he'll fight me about it, and we'll end up ... not together.  He'll leave me if I have an abortion.  I don't know if I could deal with that."

"So if you have an abortion, without him ever knowing you were pregnant, you two can just go on your merry way?  There's something wrong with that, Marcy, it involves lies. Big, big, bad lies.  And if you ever did grow up, and really want a real relationship with him, and that lie ever became known ... well, you'd lose him anyway."

"At this point, I'm not decided on anything.  I want to have the counseling, I want to talk to you, I want to think."  Marcy sighed, and reached for her cigarettes again. "Stupid.  This is my last night of smoking, just in case, just in case I decide to have ... it.  I have to torture myself even more, giving up my beloved smoking, on an 'if'. "

Chloe decided to help Marcy on her way. "Gimme another one.  I'm going to sound like Kathleen Turner tomorrow anyway, at this rate."  She watched, and smiled, as Marcy lit two cigarettes, as in old movies, and handed her one.

Marcy stood up.  "You want another beer, too?  You may as well ruin your recovery all in one night."

You don't know the half of it. I was just on my way to having an exhausting evening with Sara when you called me, friend.  Oh my god. Sara. "Marcy!", yelled Chloe needlessly, as Marcy was already stepping back into the living room.



"What about her?"

"We ... you ... I ... somebody has got to tell her about this!"

"Um, Chloe, I told you it's Dave's, not Sara's."

"She's his sister."

"I noticed the resemblance."

"No, I mean, we're this big extended ... family group ...  I mean, if she doesn't know, and finds out that I knew without letting her know, then I don't know,  I just don't know how she'd react."

"You're my best friend. You're keeping your word to me to keep it in confidence. What's not to understand?" Marcy couldn't hide the impatience in her voice.

"She's my lover, or, let me amend that, we have big plans so she will be my lover. She's my pre-lover. She hates any kind of manipulation.  She likes everything out on the table.  She'd never forgive me for that."

"I don't want her to know.  I'm sorry, Chlo, but I'm afraid I don't trust her not to speak to Dave about it."

"You don't appreciate the kind of position that puts me in?"

"I understand that you want her to be Mrs. Donovan some day, or you want to be her Mrs. D' Amico.  Chloe, calm down.  I haven't made any decisions just yet. When I have, I'll talk to you about it, and we can decide how you can deal with Sara. I'm sorry, but she just isn't my biggest concern right now.  She's ... a bystander."

Chloe regretfully decided to quit thinking about Sara, for the moment, and direct her attention to where it was needed most. They talked long into the evening, until Chloe finally had to extricate herself, and go home and get some rest.  They hugged a long time, both smelling like an ashtray full of cigarette butts.

Dave looked up from his newspaper, very surprised to see Sara shrugging out of her coat.  She tossed Nelson's truck keys onto the table to the left of him.

"Didn't expect to be seeing you  ... so soon, Sis." Dave said, seeing the tired look on her face. She crossed the kitchen, and opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. She held it up to him, and he nodded. She retrieved a second, and sat down in the chair across from him, and he folded close the paper while she opened both bottles, and then handed him one.

She sighed, took a very long swig, and sighed again. "I'm not meant to have sex, dear brother. I am doomed to eternally be a frustrated, nearly half-crazed lesbian, never to achieve ... the release I'm seeking."  She had to grin a little bit at the look of discomfort that passed her brother's face. "Oh, sure, Dave, we can talk about YOUR sex life as easy as talking about the weather, but, oh, let me bring up my lack of a sex life, and you get all uncomfortable. " She laughed. "What exactly is your problem?  Can't picture two women doing anything together, or is it just because I'm your sister?"

Dave harrumphed, and even blushed a little, which for him, was rare. "Male or female, a guy isn't supposed to think about his sister having sex with anyone. I prefer to think that you and Chloe just ... kiss a lot."

"Well, Dave, that's not far from the truth," Sara snorted. "That's about all we have done.  And I think I'm going to explode from ... I don't know ... repressed desires that should be pressing ... forward, with abandon."

Dave deflected the conversation into another direction, without being rude, and totally dismissing the topic. "So, why aren't you over there now, pressing your ...  advantage?"

Sara had thought about Marcy's call on her short ride home, and had decided to see how much Dave knew before revealing anything that had transpired earlier at Chloe's house. "Chloe got sort of an emergency call, had to go see about something ... "

Dave rubbed his chin. "Is everything all right, what's the emergency?"

Sara knew right then that Dave was unaware of any problems concerning Marcy, and if he and the artist had been fighting, his demeanor would be much different than it was now.  Sara had just assumed that Marcy's demanding call had something to do with a lovers' quarrel between Dave and Marcy.  But that wasn't how it was playing out now, in Sara's head.  I wonder what the problem is?  I shouldn't mention it to Dave, it's not my business.  Marcy would have called him if she wanted him to know, or help out.  This is something she wanted to share only with Chloe.  I hope Chloe calls me later and fills me in.  Caught up in her thoughts, she didn't notice that Dave was still waiting for a reply to his question until he tapped his beer bottle against hers.

"Earth to Sara?  Is everything alright in Chloeland?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, just some library stuff she needed to go take care of ..."

Dave was pretty sure there was more to it than Sara was letting on, but let it go. He wasn't a particularly inquisitive man, he preferred to deal with things as they came along. Except for the one thing that had being weighing on his mind lately, and he wanted to talk to his sister about it.

"How's it feel to be driving again?  Find anyone to drag race down Route 5 with you?"

Sara laughed, relieved that Dave had dropped any further inquiries about Chloe. "No, not tonight, but in Nelson's pick-up truck, I doubt I could outrun Doris Raeburn's mouth at full speed."  She and Dave both shared a grin over the mental image that placed in their heads. "Hey Dave, you got some time you can free up for me tomorrow morning, or afternoon?  Thought I could get you to maybe accompany me on some car hunting in Erie."

Dave clicked his beer bottle on hers again. "Sure! And while we're shopping for you, you can help me with a little something that I want to do ..."


"You'll see.  A guy has to have some secrets, doesn't he?  You women can't possibly be the keepers of them all."



Continued in Part XVIII

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