"Huh? For what?"

"First Michael. Now John."

For a moment he couldn't see through the tears, couldn't breathe through the tightness in his throat.

Teri cried while Beth made soothing sounds and provided Kleenex.

"Norm," Teri said a few blocks later, still in that voice from which the brass had vanished, "can I come to your house for a while? Just for an hour or two, while I get ahold of myself? I won't be any bother."

A covey of panicky excuses fluttered across his mind. But he understood. And compassion was more important than appearances right now.

"Sure. Annie will understand. What about your kids?"

"They're at my aunt's. She's used to me showing up late. And I won't stay long. I promise…"

"Don't worry. You've always been welcome."

He hoped she would be now. Annie had been getting blue-nosed the past few years.

There was a Rexall drugstore coming up across the street. He and the pharmacist had known one another for years. "Just remembered something I was supposed to pick up." He parked, ran over, borrowed the phone.

Annie was less difficult than he had anticipated.

She was a good woman, his wife.

Forewarned, she would make Teri feel at home, would soften her grief. Teri had cried on her shoulder before.

He bought some Listerine as his excuse for going in. Probably won't fool the girls, he thought.

Once they were on their way to Harald's house, Beth asked, "Why did she want to go to your place?"

"Once upon a time, so long ago that it seems like it was during somebody else's life, she was one of our extra kids. Like John. I don't know what it is. We always attract the strays.

Cats and people. We've got kittens under the back porch right now, and refugees upstairs… Anyway, Teri and John and Michael's first affair. They almost stopped being friends… It's funny when I look back at it."

"I didn't realize you'd known her before."

"Her father hit the road when she was eleven. After raping her. And her mother never gave a damn. She got to be a pretty tough kid. I guess she liked us because we were about the only people who treated her decent."

"Sad. She's such a pretty woman."

"You should have seen her then. When she cleaned herself up. Before she looked so hard."

"What was that bunny stuff?"

"The white-haired bunny?" Cash blushed.

"My God. I can't remember you being embarrassed." She giggled. "Daddy-Waddy."

Cash laughed, but strictly from nervousness. "I don't guess it matters now. Long as you keep it to yourself. She used to bleach her hair. White."

"And it looked like hell. I tried that once too. It didn't make me a different person."

"Anyway, we were talking one day, about her plans, and I asked her what she thought about modeling. Or being a Playboy Bunny, after she graduated…" Another little hiccough laugh ripped itself free.

"She had the looks… She was pretty loose then. We were at the house alone. Annie had taken Michael, Matthew, and John to their Saturday afternoon hockey practice…"

"And she tried to seduce you?"

"Liked to drive me crazy, being my 'white-haired bunny.' You'd have to be a man to understand. There's something about a girl that age… innocence? Maybe it's just instinct. Get them started breeding."

Beth snorted derisively.

"What do you do? The girl says she's willing. She throws herself into your lap. She starts playing kissy-face huggy-bear with you. Blows in your ear. Puts your hand…"

He felt eggs could be fried on his cheeks.

"But you didn't give in." Merriment flickered round the edges of her words. "You're so noble, Sir Norman."

"No. I didn't. And I was always sorry. That was an archetypal middle-age fantasy come true. And I chickened out. God, I wanted her…

"We were closer afterward. Like she could respect and trust me because I told her no. Probably the only guy who ever did. She never pulled that again, but she made it clear I could collect any time."

"I should meet a guy like that."

Cash ignored that wistful remark. "Then Michael and John went away to school. After a while they stopped coming home weekends. And Teri got pregnant. She married the guy and we didn't see her anymore."

"John did."

"Yeah. I don't know much about it. It hasn't been going on long."

"Didn't he brag? I thought men always kissed and told."

"Some do, I guess. But I don't know any. Guys I know don't talk about a woman till a relationship is over. Well, that's high school stuff anyway."

John's place seemed strange. There was an air of gloom about it, as if the structure knew, as if its heart had been ripped out. Nancy's decrepit Datsun stood behind Carrie's Satellite.

"This could get to be pure soap. Michael's wife is here."

Carrie had red, hollow eyes and wore an air of total despair when she answered the bell.

She stepped aside without speaking, apparently able to respond with nothing but a stare.

"Who is it?" Nancy called from the rear of the house. "News?" Her voice betrayed false optimism.

"It's Norm. And…" Carrie struggled for the name.

"Beth Tavares," Beth told her.

Nancy came from the kitchen. She was pale, tense, had a tall drink in hand. Cash glanced around. There had been a lot of drinking and very little housekeeping here since John's disappearance. "Dad?…"

"It's news all right." Carrie sniffled. "Bad news."

Where are the kids? Cash wondered. Farmed out to a grandmother? "You'd both better sit down."

"I told you!"

Beth moved nearer Carrie. The woman was on the verge of hysteria.

"Shit!" Cash swore. The grief was creeping up on him too.

Nancy made Carrie gulp half her drink, forcing her head back till she choked. "Calm down, Carrie. We expected bad news, didn't we? Dad, get it over with. Did he really go this time?"

"Go? This time?"