"Oh, no, thank you," I said quickly. "I'm sure Robin told you that my sister-in-law was killed a few days ago. As if that wasn't awful enough, someone came into her house and ransacked it. My brother-in-law just shouldn't be faced with dealing with a mess, in addition to everything else."

We all laid out some platitudes about how dreadful the world was nowadays, and no one was safe, even in a small town like Lawrenceton, where people used to leave their doors unlocked year-round. I certainly didn't remember such a time myself, but my mother had assured me that was so.

My company all helped carry the food and dirty dishes into the kitchen, and to my embarrassment and gratitude, Corinne and Robin insisted on doing the dishes. My good china couldn't go in the dishwasher, so this was a bigger task than usual. Phillip and Corinne dried while Robin washed, and I put away all the leftovers. My pants felt a little tight around the waist, and though that wasn't unusual after a large meal, I realized that they'd felt a little snug when I'd put them on that morning. Even my bra felt tight. I decided tomorrow would certainly be early enough to worry about weight gain, but tomorrow I'd definitely need to cut back.

We decided to stay in the less formal den, cozier and more comfortable and right by the kitchen. Of course, a football game was on, and Phillip and Robin talked sports while Corinne and I discussed Thanksgiving customs, Christmas shopping, how long I'd lived in my present house, Corinne's grandchildren. Maybe she wouldn't mind so much, me not being able to have any, since she already had some. The minute the thought crossed my mind, I was sorry.

I was about to ruin my own day, and I slammed a mental door on that subject and turned to more pleasant ones.

"My mother and her husband are coming to share a glass of wine in a short while," I said. "I hope that you'll stay and meet them."

"Oh, that would be wonderful," Corinne said instantly. She seemed positively delighted at the prospect.

With Corinne, Phillip, and Robin settled down in front of the television, I excused myself. When I emerged from the bathroom off my bedroom, Robin was standing there waiting. Without saying a word, he kissed me. At first, it was a sweet sort of kiss, a ‘You just met my mom and she likes you' kind of kiss, but abruptly it turned into a hormonal lip lock, that had more to do with ripping off underwear than Mom. In about one minute flat, we were ready to land on the bed.

"Whoa," I gasped, pulling my lips away from his.

His mouth followed mine, and for a second we dallied with resuming the pleasurable activity, but sanity prevailed. My brother and Robin's mom were in the next room, and the television volume wasn't that loud.

"Can I come over tonight?" he whispered.

"Your mom!"

"She won't miss me for a couple of hours."

"But she'll know, and that makes me feel creepy. I know she knows anyway, but still..."

"I'll think of a very good excuse. Remember, I'm a professional writer."

"Okay," I said, giving in without a further thought.

"By the way," the professional writer said, "your brother is a normal teenager who's just gotten lucky very recently and was safe about it."

"That's all I want to know," I said, making a stop sign by holding my hand up, palm facing him. "No gory details. Brothers and sisters don't need to know too much."

Robin decided we should kiss again. It was even harder to pull apart this time, and I was still feeling a little dazed by lust as we went back into the den, where Corinne was catnapping in an ever-so-ladylike way, and Phillip was talking on the phone again.

"Can I go?" he whispered. "Josh and Joss have finished eating, and his mom says it's okay. They live about two blocks over, so I can walk. He's got a Play Station Two and some games I haven't tried yet."

I glanced at my watch. I wondered whether my mother would be relieved or disappointed to miss seeing him, then decided that relieved would more fit the bill today, and gave Phillip my blessing, along with an injunction to be home in two hours, or I'd be calling the Finstermeyers.

Phillip waved good-bye to Robin, grabbed his jacket, and was gone before I could count to fifteen. Robin and I settled on the love seat and I leaned my head against his shoulder. Our hands were twined together. It was nice and warm, and I was full. I joined Corinne in dreamland for a few minutes, and then I heard my mother's distinctive knock on the door. I couldn't believe I'd missed all the worrying about the "Aida meets Corinne" scenario, and I couldn't believe I'd fallen asleep twice in one day.

Corinne was sitting up straight, her eyes fixed on the television, so she was already alert. Good. She'd need it.

My mother was dressed in a discreet plaid skirt and a red blouse, with some gorgeous red pumps on. John was wearing a dress shirt and a tweed jacket but no tie. He looked very bluff and hearty, which was not John at all, but it made a good first impression.

The introductions went well, though Mother raised her eyebrows at me for having my company in the den instead of in the formal living room. Tough, Mom. We'd migrated naturally.

"Bryan called you at our house today," Mother said to me directly during a lull in the chitchat. "He seemed to assume you'd be at our house. I told him you'd been cooking your own Thanksgiving dinners for a while now."

Okay. Mother wanted Robin to know other men found me attractive, she wanted me to know she didn't mind me not having Thanksgiving with them, and she wanted Corinne to know that she respected my independence.

Mission accomplished, Mom.

"I'll call him back tomorrow. Today's a holiday," I said instantly, stating that my relationship with Bryan Pascoe was Business with a capital B. But in the next instant, I found myself wondering if he'd discovered something about the Wynns.

The visit went well, on the whole. John was not too talkative, seeming abstracted most of the time, but I was sure Corinne would understand. John had wonderful manners and was always able to think of something pleasant to say, so I knew he would improve on Corinne's acquaintance. Robin had an excellent rapport with my mother; the thought crossed my mind that he was better with her than my late husband, Martin, had ever been. Martin and Mother had always been so conscious they were close to the same age—in fact, if Martin had married Mother instead of me, it wouldn't have raised many eyebrows at all.

I tried not to compare other men to Martin, but sometimes ideas popped into my head whether I wanted them to or not.

I opened my mouth to interrogate my mother about Poppy's parents—if she remembered any specific scandal about Marvin Wynn—but I realized just in time that there was no way she'd discuss that in front of Corinne Crusoe.

"Where's the boy?" Mother asked as Corinne and Robin were telling John a long golfing story about Robin's late father.

"He's gone over to Josh's house," I explained. "You know, the Finstermeyers. Josh and his twin sister, Joss, took Phillip around the other day, to the movies and so on."

"Well, that's nice," Mother said unconvincingly. "What do you think of the boy? How long is he going to stay?"

"Dad and Betty Jo want him to come back after Thanksgiving," I said, suddenly aware that I hadn't talked to them in two days—or had it been longer? Surely they ought to have made some travel plans for Phillip by now. But how on earth would they get airline reservations this late? Weren't the airports full on the weekend after Thanksgiving? "Maybe he can stay longer," I added hastily, so Mother would never think I was tired of Phillip. I didn't exactly want to get rid of him. I loved my brother, though I realized I didn't know him that well. My problem was the extent of my responsibility. If Phillip were to stay for a while, I would have to be a little stricter; I couldn't be an indulgent big sister if he was going to be with me for weeks.