Her husband was a good father, attentive and caring, but something had come unraveled in his professional life when Connie moved from muse to mother and stopped modeling to stay home with their son. Her husband began working with other models, but nothing really clicked. He seemed to lose the magic and the galleries lost interest and the big ticket clients in the fashion world (always a limited market in Chicago) moved on to the next hot prospect.

To his credit, he never seemed bitter and did not hold her responsible for him having to get what he called a “real” job, one that paid respectably and brought him genuine satisfaction as a photographer, with the only significant drawback that it sometimes caused him to have to leave in the middle of the night. They’d had their second son, Kyle, whom her husband adored; and theirs was, measured by any reasonable yardstick, a happy family life.

Even so, true to her nature, and like her parents, Connie spent a lot of time waiting for the other shoe to drop.…

Her husband crossed the room, bent down and hugged her to him and gave her a quick kiss.

“Get some sleep,” he said into her ear.

She held him an extra moment. “I sleep better with you next to me.”

He gave her another kiss. “That’ll be me, snuggling in next to you, before you know it.”

He drew away and moved toward the door.

Pulling the blankets up to her throat, Connie said, “Don’t forget your raincoat.”

“Not likely,” he said with a grin, “in this.”

“And don’t forget I love you.”

He said something that might have been, “I love you,” but she didn’t quite make it out. Then she heard the door close and he was gone.

Thunder rumbled and rain lashed the windows. She snapped off the TV and lay trembling. She began to cry. Not heaving sobs, just tiny self-pitying tears.

She’d been doing that a lot lately, and had no idea why.

April 17 Chicago Heights, Illinois

   Adrienne Andrews (Addie to her friends), with only one more month until prom, was determined not to be a virgin when that magical night arrived. A lanky, pale-skinned, light-blue-eyed girl who wore her blonde hair short and shaggy, thin Addie was sure she would look better if she could only, please, Jesus, lose another five pounds off her hips. Tonight, she had hidden the offenders under loose-fitting jeans. Her black T-shirt had been tucked in when she left the house, but once out of sight of her folks, she had pulled it out and knotted it so that her tummy (and pierced belly button) showed.

Addie had a straight nose and a nice mouth despite rather thin lips, and her crooked smile could turn the heads of a lot of the boys, especially, thankfully, Benny Mendoza’s.

Like Addie, Benny was a senior at St. Vincent’s Catholic High School on Ashland, and he was a babe, a stone fox. Tonight, the Hispanic boy wore a White Sox home jersey with his jeans, white with black pin-stripes, the name of his favorite player, THOME, stenciled on the back above the number twenty-five.

With his close-cropped black hair and slenderly muscular frame, Benny was everything Addie wanted in a guy—long, narrow, handsome face, with deep brown eyes and lips so full that Addie had to hold herself back from kissing them every time she saw them.

Now, for instance.

They sat next to each other in the bucket seats of his navy blue Hyundai Tiburon. The car was actually Benny’s mom’s, but Mrs. Mendoza rarely drove it, and the vehicle had become, in a de facto kind of way, his. Either that, Addie thought with a laugh, or his mom had left behind the Ozomatli CD they were listening to!

Turning to her in darkness cut only by the dashboard glow, Benny smiled and asked, “What is it, querida?”

She loved him calling her that. “Nothing,” she said, reaching across the console and touching his knee. Squeezing his knee…

After their third date, he had started calling her “ querida.” When she had asked him what it meant, he’d said, “ ‘Darling.’ Or it can also mean, you know, ‘lover.’ ”

His eyes had lowered then, his embarrassment obvious. But she had kissed his cheek and told him she liked it. Since then, she had been “ querida” whenever they were together.

Now, his eyes went back to watching the traffic on the rain-slicked Dixie Highway as they headed south, toward home. Traffic wasn’t heavy, but they weren’t the only ones out late on this windy, rainy night.

Normally, their parents would have pitched fits about them being out past midnight on a school night, but tonight was special. Benny had been invited by his baseball coach to a White Sox game at U.S. Cellular Field. And Benny had convinced the coach to let him bring Addie along as his guest. (And convinced her parents, too.)

They had met the coach outside the park and gotten the tickets. They had even enjoyed the first few innings as the Sox got an early lead on the visiting Detroit Tigers, but then the rains came. The trio had waited bravely with the other diehards for the storm to blow over, but the game had finally been called just before eleven and they had been trying to get home since.

“Tell me what you were laughing at,” he pressed.

She shook her head, her hand covering her mouth in embarrassment. “I can’t tell you.”

“Come on, querida,” he said, all honey-voiced. “You know you want to.” His fingertip touched her arm and she felt a surge of heat rush through her.

“No!” she squealed. “I’m not telling you.”

His hand moved, finding a rib and tickling.

She slapped it away. “Will you please drive?”

He grinned. “Yeah, drive you crazytill you tell me what was so damn funny.”

He tickled her ribs again, this time his hand brushing a breast and, even as she giggled, warmth surged through her. If they hadn’t been so late, tonight would have been the night— thenight.

But she wanted it perfect for them both, and this evening—which was supposed to be Benny’s big night at the ballpark—should have been just the thing. The coach seemed sure Benny would be taken early in the June amateur draft and that there would probably be some nice bonus money. Benny had worked hard for this, Addie knew, and he deserved it.

She’d been planning to top off his big night by finally giving in to him, but they were so late now, there was just no way. Another night would have to do.

Still, Addie knew one thing above all: she didn’t want to wait until prom night.

Some of the other girls, who had already done the deed, told her it would hurt a little ( at leasta little) and it could be messy ( wouldbe messy). That wasn’t the experience she had in mind for prom night, not to mention her prom dress. That night needed to be extra special perfect. Better to get the thing out of the way before, and hope it was fun, at least.

There would be other nights, no doubt, but she was so primed this night.…

“Tell me,” he said, tickling her once more.

“All right!” She pushed his hand away. “It’s just… embarrassing.”

He shrugged. “So what? Tell me.”

“I was just… thinking about the CD being in your mom’s car? Like how funny it would be if it was hermusic or something.”

“It is her music,” he said.

“You’re kidding!”

“No,” he said, his voice as calm as the sky wasn’t. “She really digs Ozomatli.”

“ Yourmom is into multiculti hip-hop rock?”

Benny nodded. “She’s not a hundred years old, you know.”

Part of the reason she loved Benny was she never knew for sure when he was serious and when he was just kidding her. Like now, for instance.

“Which song’s her fave, then?” she challenged.

“This one,” he said, skipping to song number eight on the live album—“Love and Hope.”