BEN WADE

Christmas day came. I sat with the others again in the Biebe’s place and marveled at the strangeness of their acceptance. I never celebrated Christmas before, not in my whole life, never received a gift, been willingly given so much … was it respect? Love? Understanding? I never thought I needed any of it and most likely still didn’t need it, but the Lord works in strange ways and I wondered again about this dream. These people. This odd future that could never become real in a million years, much less hundreds.

I found myself carrying my loot back to my room, carrying it alone ‘cause I’m not guarded like a prisoner anymore and I grinned. Maybe this dream was filled with assholes and stupid people? But as I set the stack of new clothing and holiday greetings on my bed, I wondered if maybe it was me being stupid. I couldn’t let myself get too deep into this temporary situation. I had to wake and get back to my life; a crew to gather, a railroad to rob. But the warmth of that dark blue sweater made me touch it, run a hand over it. I pulled it over my shirt and immediately felt a comfort I ain’t used to. Looking around, the room felt familiar but I knew nothing about it all was true. It was a dream. A fucking dream … or was I dead? Did I forget getting shot or hanged or maybe burning to death in the desert? Becoming dust? Was this heaven? Or maybe hell?

I tore the sweater from my body and dropped onto the bed. I needed to be more suspicious, less easily bought. I needed to get tougher. But I grinned, remembering the invitation. I’d be taking dinner with Natalie, her husband Jack Aubrey and his visiting friend, Stephen Maturin tomorrow night. Maybe I could uncover something more about this dream? But maybe I could set a little fear of God into them too. But not Natalie. Not that sweet woman with child. She’d have enough to face with childbirth. If she was real … if she would in fact give birth … if this wasn’t a dream. But it is. It most certainly is.

CLAUDIA

Pullo is so much like Antony. Like a little boy lost where so many things are concerned and he made me laugh, bringing his newly purchased presents and asking me to wrap them ‘all pretty like the ones yesterday’.

“Who are these for?” Antony asked, fingering the jeweler’s boxes, opening one then the other as I gathered paper and ribbons, scissors and tape.

I’m not quite as nosey as Antony but when the flash of a diamond caught my eye I couldn’t help it. I dropped everything and reached for the velvet box. “Oh, Pullo! This is a beautiful engagement ring! I had no idea you were involved with someone!”

Antony scowled. “These are not for that woman you just met, Pullo? Do you not realize a woman must learn to wait for such things?”

I glared, fingering my own lovely diamond ring and Antony quickly cleared his throat.

“Except for my woman, I say. My woman who knows of my love and my commitment and has agreed to give the same –”

“Yeah, yeah,” I teased and he ran a hand down his reddening face. “Who is the lucky woman who has stolen your heart, Pullo?”

He grinned wide. “You’re right, Claudia. So right. It is soon for this but I feel sure of it. If she says ‘no’, I’ll just try again and again until she says yes, then! But mark my words, Lesley Brookmeyer will be mine.”

I heard little else, my hands moved like a machine, wrapping the beautiful ring for Lesley and the pretty heart shaped pendent with a tiny diamond chip for the woman’s young daughter. My chest ached and I really did try to be cheery, tried to look happy for him, but what I knew was wrenching my guts. When he gathered the lovely wrapped packages and happily left I reached out to Antony’s hand.

“Ah, my love,” he kissed me softly. “I must get to my rounds. I’ll return for our noon meal.”

“No, Antony. I need to tell you something … and it can’t wait. Please, give me one minute. Please.”

He pushed a tear from my cheek and sat; concern on his face. “What is this?”

“Oh God, Antony. We have to be ready. Pullo is going to need you soon. He’ll need comfort.”

“Why?”

I sighed, rubbed my eyes. “Remember last week when the hospital called to make arrangements for my private services?”

Antony nodded.

“I begin next week to care for Lesley Brookmeyer. Antony, she’s dying. She has little time, weeks, a month maybe. It’s a terrible thing … brain cancer that is moving fast. I’m sure Pullo doesn’t know yet.”

Antony visibly deflated. “This is not good, Claudia. Pullo lost his first wife in childbirth and a lover … well … you are most correct, he will need us all. He will truly need us all.”

“This information is in confidence,” I said, taking a deep breath and sniffling. “Ms. Brookmeyer didn’t want anyone to know.”
 
RILEY

I love the holidays, bump and bustle and crazy crap everywhere. Day after Christmas had shaped up to be a nutty one for us. We’d booked four parties that evening.

One would be catered off premises. Another was a small party (the mayor and his political friends) to be held in the private breakfast room. The third was being held on the second floor, left tower. An entire family had booked all the rooms there and we were setting up a buffet in one of the suites. It would be a free for all and probably a little noisy too. But … it’s Christmas! Time for fun and frivolity, right? 

The final big concern was a twelve top in the main dining room that had chosen a special menu. Movie stars, go figure. But Diane Keaton discovered our Inn last year and has made it a place she likes to visit often. It was nice to have her for the holidays; she didn’t ask that much, just to entertain her Vermont friends and associates with a menu traditional to her family.

Chef Chris was on top of the Keaton party. I’d be handling the suite buffet. Andy could deal with the Mayor’s sit down dinner (as it was simple and would get him home before he keeled over), and Monica was making the big sacrifice of handling the off-site catering.

I was always excited to get an opportunity to be back in the kitchen, but I couldn’t start my prep until I took care of a few administration details. I called Kim to our apartment and we signed the biggest management agreement the Inn had ever to undertaken. It guaranteed Kim three years to make his mark before re-negotiation. I figured if Vermont life bored the hell out of him, this would give him a comfortable out. John, on the other hand was thinking three years was about all he could handle of the guy.

I watched the ink scrawls and sighed relief; it was going to work out beautifully, I just knew it. “Now,” I slid my arm into the crook of Kim’s arm. “One more thing then you can get on with your last week off.”

“Where we goin’, love?”

“To meet your new executive assistant.”

“I got an assistant?”

I laughed, he really did look surprised, but this seemed like the absolute perfect arrangement to me.

EMILY

My world seems to consist of nothing but work, school and leftover lasagna, despite my feeble attempts to have any shred of a meaningful social life. I keep reminding myself that this is just a temporary situation and that things will change for the better as soon as I get my degree, but once in a while it gets a little lonely. I’ve lost touch with so many of my girlfriends, most of whom have started to settle down with marriages and families. I sometimes suspect I’m destined to become nothing more than a well educated old maid.

While my love life is doomed, my professional life seems to have taken an unexpected left turn as well. I had only been at work for less than 30 minutes this morning when Riley stopped into the shop, accompanied by what was probably one of the best looking men I’ve seen in months. (Yeah, it’s been that long.)

“Emily Carreras, I’d like you to meet the Inn’s new corporate manager, Kim Barrett.”

My heart sank to my stomach as I held out my hand in greeting. I knew the position was out of my reach when I gave Riley my resume, but I had still hoped. “Hello Kim, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” I tried to give him my best welcoming smile but my lips weren’t cooperating. “I guess congratulations are in order.” His hand felt smooth and warm while my own hand felt cold as ice.

“Thank you, Emily.” His eyes met and held mine. “Looking forward to getting better acquainted with everyone.” 

He seemed so polite and polished. Maybe too polished, you know what I mean? It wasn’t anything that I could really put my finger on, other than the fact that he looked almost too perfect, not a hair out of place. His brown wool suit looked expensive and was perfectly color coordinated with a cream toned shirt and maroon paisley tie, finished off with a pair of Prada oxfords. Mr. GQ all the way. 

Riley’s gazed drifted quickly around the store then turned back towards Kim. “Emily’s been our gift shop manager for the past year and a half or so, and in that time sales have increased by forty percent.  She deals directly with the local artisans and vendors and always keeps her eye out for new unique products. It was her idea to implement the current computerized inventory system.”

I was proud of my accomplishments here at the Inn, but I was trying my best to disguise my disappointment over the news that someone else had received the position I had been interested in. Where did this guy come from? I wasn’t aware that the position had been officially advertised. But what Riley said next nearly knocked me back on my heels.

“Emily, I was anxious for you and Kim to meet because I wanted to offer you the position as his administrative assistant.”

Kim’s eyebrows shot up and my mouth dropped open. Administrative assistant? Wait a minute … four years of college debt, not to mention the cost of the Master’s program, and I was being offered the job of a mere … secretary?

Despite my initial shock, I felt a strange force taking over my body and heard my lips pronouncing the word ‘yes’. Luckily, common sense won out and somewhere my brain realized that this offered position might have more than a few benefits. A higher salary for starters.

Riley continued. “It’s more than a secretarial position. You’ll be acting as Kim’s assistant. You’ve impressed me with your work ethic and always seem to have a fresh, infectious attitude; I think you and Kim would work well together with all your combined creative energy and ideas.”

Okay, maybe I was being a bit hasty in my snap judgment about the position. Some very important women started out as secretaries: Belle Reeves, Condoleezza Rice… okay, I’m only half joking, but I began to see what kind of opportunity was being laid before me.

I looked at them both and squared my shoulders. “When do I begin?”
 
KIM 

Somehow, this wasn’t quite what I was expecting when Riley introduced me to the young woman who was about to become my assistant. This sheila appeared to be all of 15 years old. She couldn’t have been much taller than Riley and the first thing I thought of when I took hold of her hand in greeting was that she looked like some sort of Christmas pixie, with her short spiky dark hair and big brown eyes. She wore a red suede vest over a black turtleneck and slacks, the latter of which were tucked into short red suede boots, which only amplified the pixie effect. A good gust of wind would blow her away; she couldn’t have weighed more than 95 pounds soaking wet.

But I could hardly say that she wasn’t attractive, in a cute, best mate’s little sister sort of way. And Riley would never have offered her the position if she didn’t feel that she was up for the challenge of the job. I would have liked to have interviewed her myself before making the decision to hire her, but then I had an idea.

“The position officially starts January 2nd, but I’d be interested in getting together with you a bit sooner to discuss more of what the job entails. Would you be interested in discussing it over dinner on New Year’s Eve?” My intentions were purely professional. What better time to discuss the future of our working relationship?

Emily eyes grew wide as she glanced over at Riley, who had backed away to speak with the cashier behind the counter. She then turned her gaze back towards me, looking like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights. “Um, New Year’s Eve wouldn’t be possible. I’ve already made other plans. Would you be willing to meet sometime tomorrow afternoon, instead?”

What was I thinking? Of course she had other plans. Everyone had other plans for New Year’s and I was the only living soul in existence over the age of twenty-one who was without a plan of his own, or a clue. I’ve been so preoccupied with getting settled and preparing for this position that I failed to realize that life was still going on around me. “We could arrange that. Tomorrow morning, eleven? Say we meet here for brunch and we’ll take it from there?”

She gave what looked like a smile of relief. “That sounds wonderful. I’ll be looking forward to meeting with you then.”

“Eleven it is.” I held out my hand to shake on the deal and this time her smile reached all the way up to her eyes.

Riley came back over to join us then, a cookie in one hand and a cup of what looked like hot chocolate in the other. “This is fabulous, you two. I know that good things are gonna happen for us all in 2008. Emily, these gingerbread men are delicious.”

She slipped her arm through mine and started to lead me towards the door. “Kim, I’d like you to meet a couple more folks before I cut you loose for the day.”

I looked back to nod a quick good bye to Emily, who seemed to be watching us rather intently. Why was I getting the feeling that this sheila ran hot and cold at the drop of a hat? Oh well, no matter. As long as she could type and fix a good pot of coffee; that was half the battle. I’ll have to ask her if she knows shorthand …

MAXIMUS

I stood with Sophia at the pond; we were arm in arm and blessedly discussing the possibilities of adoption. Although she was crying, I could feel her heart slowly being soothed with the idea of holding a child we would raise as our own. The conversation had moved toward which age this child should be. To me, this was of no importance. Seeing her hold and nurture a child was all I wished and whatever age was decided upon would please me greatly.

“There are so many older children available,” she sighed, pushing tears away. “Children from all over the world who need a good home and good parents; children with health or emotional problems. Children no one wants.”

“But what would you prefer, my love?” I kissed her lips and felt her body melt against mine.

“Of course, I would prefer a newborn. A child I can love from the beginning. But private adoption is expensive and carries risks, Max. Many young mothers change their mind, deprive you of the child once they’ve carried it, seen it, had that moment to bond with it.”

“Is it not worth the risk, Sophia?”

She shrugged, and we turned to walk back to the warmth of the Inn. “Is it? I feel as though I have already lost a child. I’m unsure if I can bear it again … and again … and as many times as we would have to try. Perhaps we can talk more about this at another time. After all, there is no hurry, is there?”

I stopped, shook my head. “No. This decision should be made now, my dear one. We should choose our course and make our way toward it.”

Sophia straightened her shoulders and gazed up into my eyes. “Husband? Can you handle my disappointment? My tears? My losses?”

“They will be my disappointments, tears and losses as well. I will bow to your decision, but the decision should be made today.”

“Now? This moment?”

“Yes,” I grinned sadly. “This moment.”

“Then gird your loins, my love. I wish a newborn.”

I chuckled, cuddled her under my arm and we continued toward the porch. “Then we will begin our journey this very day; a call to our attorney, perhaps the internet. Perhaps –”

“Maximus?” Antony called from behind and I kissed my wife before sending her in from the cold.

“General Marc Antony,” I smiled. “How does the day find you?”

“Most concerned for my comrade. Are you aware that Pullo is at this moment proposing marriage to a woman he had just met?”

There was no mirth in his expression and I could immediately decipher that his concern was far deeper than a friend making a marital misjudgment. “And there is a problem?”

“There is. Maximus, Claudia has informed me that the woman in question is in dire condition. She is dying.”

“Ah,” my brow curled and my head dropped back, my eyes tight against the news. Pullo has been strong, a good man but has faced much turmoil since arriving in our world. “Pullo is unaware of this?”

“Most unaware. I fear he will need our assistance to accept this fate. And … I fear he already loves this woman greatly. He’s a foolish sort who loves easily. He may go in a bad way.”

I shook my head sadly. “Loving easily is not a poor trait, Antony. But it is, I fear, a sad turn of events for our friend. I will stand with you. Where is he?”

“With the woman at her house. I come to ask that you and I prepare for the worse when he returns.”

“If he returns, Antony. If he returns.” In my mind I envisioned the man drunk and out of control, reverted to his previous behavior and in great danger because of it. “Vigilance, my man.”

STEPHEN

After a lovely dinner, Mr. Wade and I settled ourselves in a large corner booth in the pub awaiting Jack. He had escorted a protesting Miss Natalie to their quarters as dinner had tired her more than she wished. She was in her last stages of pregnancy and I had observed her during dinner. She was uncomfortable and tried to hide it beneath a mask of good humor, but both she and I were acutely aware that the babes would arrive very soon. It was best for her to rest now while she was able, for she’ll not have a chance to do so after the births.

Mr. Wade and I sat in companionable silence for a few moments, sipping our drinks. He was a gregarious sort, but not boastful nor prideful. Obviously intelligent. An enjoyable companion, to say the least. Much like Jack, but with a very different manner. There was a slight hint of smugness about his demeanor, as if he possessed some hidden knowledge to which only he was privy. He examined our surroundings closely with a bemused smile, calmly sipping his whiskey.

“So Doc, I take it you came here with the Captain?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“Yes, we arrived together, oh … several years ago now.”

“And how have you done? Have you … acclimated?” There was a sly smile that played about his lips.

I paused before answering, deliberating on what to say, how much and on what exactly Mr. Wade was looking for.

“Hmm. Well, yes. I have, actually. But it was a difficult process and there have been occasions when I have longed for home and more familiar surroundings.”

“But you didn’t go home.”

“No. I was on the precipice, was actually at my portal ready to cross through, but I held myself back.” I shifted and leaned forward, speaking quietly. “You see, when I came here, I was amazed at the progress mankind has made, the achievements he has accomplished. Momentous advances in medicine and natural science. It was astounding. But, there have also been horrifying achievements in warfare and in the destruction of our planet. Mankind’s capacity for cruelty and murder has remained unabated.” I paused, staring into my glass of port.

“What changed your mind?” Mr. Wade looked thoughtful, the sardonic smile gone from his face.

“This family. Jack. If I left, there was no guarantee that I could return and the ties that bind me here are strong. I’ll not deny that I sometimes feel out of place … a walking history book, if you will … but this family has become more important to me than returning to my former life.”

We heard Jack arrive before we saw him. His voice boomed greetings to all around as he strode to our table. “So, Mr. Wade,” he said, clapping his back heartily, “about this card game you proposed. I believe you prefer poker over whist?”

JOHN

“Strained carrots or strained peas, buddy?”

Little Terry slapped his hands happily on the highchair tray and I grinned. “Peas it is.”

I dunno, maybe I’m not supposed to say this, maybe it’s not ‘manly’ or something, but I kinda like it when Riley’s busy with stuff and I get baby time. T’s a good kid, calmer than any of my other three were at this age, that’s for sure. Never with the colicky crying, no cranky shit even though he’s teething. And I think he really listens when we talk. Maybe Riles is a great mom. Maybe I’m a damn good dad. I’ll tell you this much, I don’t fucking swear around this one. Well, not often, that’s for sure.

Riles would be tied up for hours handling that party. Us guys were gonna have some fun. My bottle was cold and his was ready to be warmed. There’s a hockey game on TV and I’ve already chilled like a hundred teething rings. We’re gonna be just fine.

“What?” I asked as the baby’s green tongue slimed out and his face scrunched up. “Don’t like peas? Maybe we try the carrots.” But before I rinsed out his baby dish, I licked some green from my finger. “Jesus! That fucking tastes like ass! No more peas for us, T. Man,” I guzzled beer. “Ugh!”

He giggled and I kissed his dark curls. We tried the carrots. Not too bad. We both liked those and managed to finish off the whole jar. I changed his diaper and tucked him into his pajamas then we cuddled on the recliner.

While he chewed on his toy hockey stick, I tried to explain the game. Don’t know how it happened, but soon I wasn’t talking about hockey anymore. I was talking about life while the little guy snuggled and gnawed and looked up at me with his big blue eyes.

“That’s true, you know. Life is just like a hockey game. You need protection. A cup, pads, helmet. Shit, a good helmet because sometimes the crap comes down like rain. You gotta always be watching and always … always … always be ready to pull off your gloves. There’s gonna be someone wants a fight and you have to be able to take care of yourself, T. Lemme see your fist.”

I lifted his tiny hand. The pudgy fingers opened and wrapped around my finger and I grinned. “Good grip. Good fist. But then … then there’s women. Respect the women, man. I’m gonna tell you a secret only us guys know, so listen good. Without women, we’re screwed. We’re nothing alone … and alone, we’re really in trouble. Be good to the girls, Terry. They’ll make your life whole … well,” I reached for his bottle but he refused, his gums working feverishly at the teether and his eyes glued to mine. “Some women will drive you up the wall. You’ll know which ones they are. Hell,” I laughed, taking a sip from my own bottle. “Aunt Lizzybelle was one of those women who made me fucking … ah I mean fudging … fudging insane. She had me crazy twenty-four seven. See, the trick is finding the right woman. Look at how LizBeth and Kevin get along. Real good, right? Some matches work, some don’t. I’m a real lucky puck, finding your mom … or was that the other way around? I think maybe she found me. Or maybe I just let her catch me. But damn, what a great catch for both of us, huh?”

“There’s other shit you need to know too, buddy. There’s being safe, there’s women … and even bigger … there’s responsibility and family. Those are the biggest things I want you to know about. We’ll talk about this a lot. Aw, man,” I stood, held the baby out. “You pissed on me?”

I grinned, changed his diaper, his pajamas and my shirt. This time when we settled he took the bottle. I knew he’d be sound asleep soon so I had to talk fast. “This is simple. These rules never change so don’t forget. You don’t fucking ignore your responsibilities. And you don’t fucking forget to take care of your family. Period. Got it?”

I looked down, his eyes were closed, his breath even and the bottle almost empty. Cool. He can down one as fast as I can. I sighed, glanced up at the TV. Game was over. What the hell was the score? Guess I should’ve put the baby to bed but I just snuggled deeper into the big chair, let my face lean close so I could breathe in his hair and … fell asleep.

BEN WADE

We played some poker, me Jack and Stephen, but I wasn’t concentrating. Losing real bad too. Some of what the Doc said was stuck in my head, burning like a brand, marking me. I left them to the game and decided to walk off whatever had me worried, but walking around the Inn didn’t help.

I looked around; they called these things antiques but they ain’t old to me. The feeling of being out of place got worse; ached in my gut. Everything Stephen said was still buzzing in my ears and I sat on the step. My room was just a few doors down the hall, but I couldn’t get there.

I ain’t cried since I was a boy. Something broke loose inside me and I fought to hold back sobs. It wasn’t like I lost nothing. I had nothing to really speak of, didn’t really even need nothing; just a horse and my pistol, a railroad to rob and a few men around to keep me sharp. Not much. But … it was all gone. Forever. And I wasn’t gonna get any of it back.

I gasped and ran a sleeve over my face. Fucking tears. What an asshole I was. I didn’t know a whole lot, really wasn’t paying much attention when they were telling me shit. Let it all slide over me like water. Now I know … it’s all important or I won’t survive. These good people wanted that for me. Survival. They talk about thriving but I can’t see it for me. And for a minute, I wished I had the ‘Hand of God’ … could use it to end it all. What would it matter?

“Hey Ben? Lose your room key?”

I looked up at Riley’s smiling face. She musta heard me crying like a kid but she wasn’t showing any disgust. I shifted, patted the step and she sat tight against me.

“No. Just … thinking.”

She sighed, leaned back on her outstretched hands and I looked over her clothes. A white jacket, black trousers. Not very attractive shoes. I’d seen her wear those clothes before. She called them ‘chef attire’. I called them ‘a damn shame’. She’s too pretty to hide her curves like that, no matter what work she did.

“You know,” she said softly. “I’ve been thinking too. If you think this is all strange, you should have seen it before.”

Her grin made me smile and I just waited, for once having nothing to say and no interest in changing the way the conversation was gonna go.

“Four or five years ago, things were real different, but for you and the others, it’s always the same. See, you didn’t get a choice about this. Your movie ends and poof, here you are. But me … when I crossed over I –”

“Hold up. What’re you talking about?”

She sat up and turned to face me. “Yes, Ben. There were lots of women who crossed over to this dimension too. We came by choice, left our reality behind to be here with you guys. Back then, it was kinda a big responsibility, you know. We took care of all of you … took really good care of you. Offered you everything.”

“Everything?” My mouth had dropped to my knees and her eyes glittered before she lowered them and her cheeks went all pink.

“Yeah … everything.”

“So, you saying you been with more of them than just John?” Now this was an interesting bit of information!

“Yeah. But that was then. Things are different now. I wanted to tell you something else, Ben. Share something I think you need to hear. See –”

“What if I wanna hear more about how things used to be?” I teased.

“Then you’ll have to wait ‘til I tell you what I want you to know first. Now, stop interrupting me, Ben Wade.” She playfully pushed her shoulder to mine.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Listen, I know most of you guys pretty well, but I know John the most … because I love him the most. And what I want you to know is that it was unbelievably hard for him when he crossed over. John lost a wife and three kids, lost … gone forever. Needless to say, that ‘game world’ was a little tough for him.”

I grunted. “You trying to say he didn’t like having a different woman every night?”

She giggled. “It wasn’t exactly like that, every night and all. But what I am saying is that John was mourning the loss of his family. It was a really hard adjustment for him.”

I nodded, chewed on that a minute then grinned and looked into her sparkling dark eyes. “So … what happened to that … ‘game world’?”

“John and I kinda shattered it to pieces. We broke the cardinal rule. We got married. After that most of them seemed to do the same thing.” She shrugged. “It’s real life here, Ben. Not always easy but always interesting and always supportive.”

But my mind was stuck on something else. “You saying all those woman in the family were part of that world?”

“No” she gasped. “Not at all. There are only four of us left now. Natalie, Meredith, Monica and me.”

“Ah …” I was silent, feeling that pressure in my chest again. “So, this isn’t a dream, is it Riley?”

“No, Ben … but it can be a dream come true. We’re here to help you. We know it’s hard and we’re here for you.” Her sweet eyes filled with tears and she kissed my cheek real soft. “We’re so glad you’re here.”

I nodded and quickly snuck a kiss on her pretty lips, shrugged. “Worth a try, right?”

She laughed and stood. “Well, I need to get home before John teaches the baby how to swear and drink beer. Get some sleep, Ben. Good night.”

“Good night, darlin’. And oh, hey! Are there any of those ‘game world’ women ‘round here?”

“No!” she called as she turned the bend and trotted down the stairwell.

I grunted to my feet and headed to my room. “Well, damn.”

KIM

Okay, so asking Emily out to dinner was probably a major faux pas on my part, even if I did try to pass it off as relating only to business. I’ve learned from past mistakes that it’s best not to get too personally involved with subordinates, but I’ll chalk it up to a momentary lapse in judgment. Last year about this time I was in Florence with Arianna, toasting in the future as fireworks lit the night sky over the Palazzo Vecchio.

Maybe something was telling me to slow down, or perhaps I just really needed to get laid. That usually cures all for a bloke when he’s out of sorts, but after I got back to Andy and Monna’s that evening, I didn’t have the bloody energy to go out and hit the local clubs.

But I wasn’t tired enough to call it a night. Getting comfortable on the bed, I took a bite of my ham sammie and flipped open my laptop. Maybe I’d just surf the net and see what kind of things were happening around town. As a joke I clicked onto a link for Vermont professional singles, and found my way into a chat room for the over thirty set. I always get a good laugh over the various IDs people choose when online: HotMama, LuckyDan, BigMac, BabyDoll… HotMama probably had three children under the age of 5 and collected child support from each one of the fathers; LuckyDan was most likely balding with a large paunch and considered himself the life of any tailgate party; BigMac, well, no comment on that one, but BabyDoll…

Deciding to have some harmless fun, I created an ID and logged in and within moments someone with the board name of PrimaVera pounced on me.

{NYSE411: enters chat room}

PRIMAVERA: NYSE411, that’s an interesting name. I like it. No mention of certain anatomical abnormalities. I find that utterly refreshing. Welcome to the board.

NYSE411:  Hi, PrimaVera. Are you the welcoming committee?

PRIMAVERA: Ah, you found me out, LOL. Actually, I’ve only been logged on for the past 20 minutes and already I’ve been invited to take part in a threesome and someone else just asked me if I was into “furries.” Gee, I’m just a sweet, normal girl who’s a little bored and look at what I’ve fallen into – a den of internet iniquity!

NYSE411: No worries, love. I’ll protect you. I’m a decent enough guy.

BIGMAC: Hey Vera, I thought we had something meaningful going on and you dump me for this poseur?

PRIMAVERA: BigMac, you are so not my type.

NYSE411: Bugger off, mate.

BIGMAC: Vera, give me another chance.

PRIMAVERA: Sorry big guy. I’m not into fast food.

PRIMAVERA: Hey, NYSE411?

NYSE411: Yes?

PRIMAVERA: Let’s take this into a PRIVATE chat room. I promise I won’t bite.

NYSE411: Just as I was getting hopeful. LOL…

BIGMAC: Vera, you broke my heart.

BABYDOLL: Come here, BIGMAC, I can kiss it and make it all better.

BIGMAC: Oh Baby, I bet you could.

NYSE411: Is it me, or is it getting crowded in here?

PRIMAVERA: Come on, NYSE, let’s blow this Popsicle stand.

{PRIMARVERA:  signed out}

BIGMAC: Well blow me down…

BABYDOLL: Come here Big guy, and I’ll show you how to whistle.

NYSE411: Been nice meeting you two…

{NYSE411: signed out}

EMILY

I stared at my laptop screen and giggled. This was the first time I’d ever actually gone online and tried anything like this, but well, my social life being what it is, it just seemed like a fun, adventurous thing to do.

NYSE411: Okay love, here we are in the private room. Love the décor. Any ground rules?

PRIMAVERA: Well, I guess I’d better come out and say this right now, but I’m really not into cybersex…

NYSE411: No worries, I prefer the real thing myself. To be honest, I’ve never done anything like this before.

PRIMAVERA: Really? Neither have I!

NYSE411: See, we already have something in common.

PRIMAVERA: What a relief! Tell me, NYSE, what’s your favorite color?

NYSE411: Favorite color? Green. Why?

PRIMAVERA: You can tell a lot about a person by their choice of favorite color, and it’s a question that isn’t too invasive.

NYSE411: So, what does my favorite color tell you about me?

PRIMAVERA: That you like money.

NYSE411: Wow, you’re good at this. What’s your favorite color?

PRIMAVERA: Blue. What does that tell you about me?

NYSE411: You like looking at clouds.

PRIMAVERA: Hey, you’re not too bad at this yourself. What’s your favorite food?

Next thing I knew it was 3AM.

PRIMAVERA: Hey NYSE? It’s getting late. Or should I say it’s getting early? I have to get up in 4 hours, and as much as I hate to say it, I think I’d better try and get some sleep.

NYSE411: You’re right – I’m pretty tired myself. I didn’t realize the time either, but I’ve really enjoyed this. Would you like to do this again? Chat, I mean?

PRIMAVERA: Do you have Yahoo IM?

NYSE411: No, but I can download it for free, right?

PRIMAVERA: Sure can. My e-mail is primavera@yahoo.com. Just send me an invite to this address when you download and then we can talk at any time.

NYSE411: I’d like that.

PRIMAVERA: Me too. Thank you for the fun time.

NYSE411: The pleasure was all mine, love. Go get some sleep now, and I’ll buzz you again real soon. Do you have anything planned for tonight?

PRIMAVERA: Send me a message and find out, LOL. Good night for now.

NYSE411: Good night.

{PRIMAVERA: signed out}

{NYSE411: signed out}

I flipped down the laptop screen and sighed. Okay, I know, it’s just a silly online conversation. With my luck he’ll be a middle aged, bald headed old fart, but hey, it’s cyberspace. Anything is possible.