"Come on!" Nancy called from the passenger side of the car, her sunglasses pushed up onto her hair.

Bess, her beach bag over her arm, had almost made it all the way to the car when she stopped at the mailbox. "Just a second," she called, laughing, when Nancy groaned. She flipped through the catalogues and credit card solicitations and circulars until she saw a letter with too many stamps on it.

"Something interesting?"

Bess slipped into the backseat, next to a happily panting Mollie, her eyes still on the envelope. "Don't know," she said, although her heart was beating too quickly. She slit it open with her thumb and pulled out a single sheet of lined paper, the upper edge ragged, full of uneven handwriting. "Oh!"

"So it was," Nancy said, slipping her sunglasses on. Ned glanced at her from the driver's seat when they reached the first stop sign, and he was smiling. The day was beautiful, perfect, and although the fact that she was going to her best friend's husband's family reunion was the slightest bit depressing, Troy's letter made up for it.

"It's just Troy."

Seeing Troy's name made her think ofã but she didn't let herself, she made herself read the letter, over and over, until she wasn't thinking of it anymore. She and Troy had dated, for a while, when she was putting her life back together, but had figured out they were better as friends. Which, she had to admit, was nice, because ex-boyfriends didn't usually take the time to write. At least, not anything as nice as this.

"He's coming back to the States! And... and he has a girlfriend."

Nancy glanced over her shoulder at Bess, as Mollie poked her nose out the window. "That a good thing?"

"Of course," Bess said, and she actually did genuinely feel happy about it. "He says whenever they set a date, I am definitely invited to the wedding. Which is great. You know how much I love weddings."

Ned sighed. "I know, I know, and we're sorry. It was all my fault."

"Yeah, well," Bess said, but she was smiling. "You gonna name me a godmother if you ever actually have that baby?"

"Better," Nancy said, resting her hand on her six-month-swelled belly. "Aunt."

By the time they came to the lake, Bess had already stripped off her shirt and had her window down, her hand bladed as it whipped through the wind, stroking Mollie whenever she stood on her lap and investigated. Nancy glanced back at her and sighed enviously. "Now you're the one who looks fantastic in a bikini and I'm the one who has to run around in a cover-up."

"You don't have to," Ned protested. "You can go tan."

Nancy made a soft deprecating noise. "You try being pregnant," she said. "I'd rather be in a refrigerator than anywhere not in the shade."

"Plus, you have to make nice," Bess said, slipping on her oversized sunhat. "I get to smile and nod and flirt with all your cousins."

A veritable sea of Nickersons greeted them, and Bess managed to bypass them all and make it to the lakeside in record time. While Nancy and Ned claimed a table and helped set up for lunch, Bess was spreading tanning oil over her arms and legs, watching Mollie wade out into the water. Soon Bess's skin was flushed and warm, and she was on her stomach, her head cradled on her crossed arms, nearly asleep.

"We were married here."

Bess turned over and looked at Nancy, who had managed to lower herself to the sand, her legs straight out in front of her, and was stroking Mollie's ears. Bess glanced a few cabins over, at the one his family owned, and nodded. She had seen the tape. Ned had been charming and Nancy had been beautiful and even though Bess would have done it all differently, for them it had been perfect, and she had still found herself near tears when she had watched them exchange their vows.

"Must've been beautiful."

Nancy nodded. "It was," she said. "Now, if you'll help me up, it's time for lunch, and you look like you need to eat something."

Bess sat up and slipped on a loose button-down, the side of her mouth curving up in a smile. "I'm fine," she said.

"Don't talk to me," Nancy said, as Bess helped her climb to her feet, Mollie barking playfully at their heels. "After all those years, Bess, you never needed to lose weight. I don't know what made you think you had to."

Bess shrugged, her eyes averted. "Made me feel better about myself," she said.

Nancy shook her head. "Have a chicken salad sandwich anyway," she said. "Tell me if I did any justice to Hannah's recipe."

"Deal," Bess said, leading the way back to the picnic tables.

The three of them were sitting at the table, their plates piled high with food, Mollie begging and feigning hunger Nancy knew she didn't feel, when the cry went up. Nancy glanced at Ned, who stood more easily than she, and shaded his eyes. "Oh," he said, and glanced over at Bess. "I seem to remember you talking about hot cousins..."

Bess glanced over her shoulder. "Hmm?"

"Come here," he beckoned her, and Bess exchanged a look with Nancy.

"It's okay," Nancy said, laughing. "I know who he means. Have fun, grab a beer on your way back since some of us got knocked up and can't drink."

"I don't remember you ever complaining," Ned called over his shoulder, grinning, before they were out of Nancy's earshot. "I just thought you might want to meet my cousin," he told Bess.

"You just want me to marry into the family so you'll have a guaranteed babysitter."

"Who said anything about getting married? And... you're not already a guaranteed babysitter?"

Bess punched him in the arm. "How many cousins do you have, anyway?"

"I'm not sure, they keep reproducing," he said, maneuvering through the crowd. "But this one is a double first cousin."

"What's his name?" Bess stood on her toes, trying to peer through the circle of relatives congratulating the new arrival, clapping his back, chirping happily.

"Terry," Ned replied. "Terry, hey!"

The crowd parted, and Bess fell back onto her feet with a solid thump, unable to take her eyes off him.

Terry was tall, but not too tall; Ned was about half a foot too tall for Bess, but Terry looked like he was almost the perfect height. His hair was brown like Ned's, bleached lighter by the sun like Ned's, but his eyes were caramel where Ned's were chocolate brown. Ned gave Terry what Bess had dubbed the man-hug, clapping each other on the back, and they could have passed for brothers. Then Terry's gaze fell on Bess.

"Did someone else marry into the family behind my back?" He reached for Bess's hand. "Hi, I'm Terry."

Bess was speechless and Ned smiled. "Not quite. Terry, this is Bess; Bess is my wife's best friend."

"Bess?" Terry repeated.

"Short for Elizabeth," Bess finally managed, returning Terry's handshake. "Sorry, I just... Ned, I thought you said cousin, not long-lost brother."

"Yeah, that's what happens when two sets of siblings get married," Terry said easily. "I am starving."

"Grab a plate and a beer and come eat with us."

Nancy pushed herself up and extended a hand to Terry when he joined them. "Hi Terry."

"So you two finally made it legal. I heard the wedding was great."

"From one of the five people who was there?"

"Something like that," Terry laughed. "What have you two been up to?"

"Oh, you know. Bought a house, painting the nursery, the usual newlywed things. Bess here just got back from a few years in Europe."

"Really?" Terry turned to Bess. "First trip?"

"Not hardly," Bess laughed. "I went with Nancy so often that I practically filled a passport. It was an... interesting trip, though."

"Terry here just got back from his tour," Ned said, taking a sip of his beer, while Nancy gazed at it, longingly. "How was it?"

"It was," Terry began, before he looked away from Bess. "It was good."

"Can't I just have a sip?" Nancy asked.

"No," Ned said firmly. "You cannot have a sip. You were tipsy off that wine cooler you had last week and we are not going through that again."

"Ned," she pleaded, softly, fluttering her lashes.

"You don't even like beer," he replied. "So, Terry. Still single?"

Ned was looking pointedly away from his wife, and in retaliation she leaned over and swiped his beer. Ned launched himself across the table, scrambling for it, but she took a long sip before he could stop her.

"Yeah," Terry replied, glancing between the two of them. "Still single."

The reunion lasted for hours. When Nancy had told her that they would probably be spending the rest of the weekend at the lake and to pack accordingly, Bess hadn't realized that the rest of Ned's extended family would be staying as well.

"They spend so much time on the drive here," Nancy explained, as the two of them made up the spare bed in the cabin. "That's why we end up with boxes of chicken from fast-food restaurants."

Bess nodded, only half-listening. Through the open screened window she could hear the low unintelligible sound of Ned and Terry's conversation, their occasional laughter and the ring of the beer cans on the table. When she turned back to her friend, Nancy had a certain gleam in her eye, one that Bess recognized all too well.

"Why don't you see if Terry wants another beer," Nancy suggested.

Bess felt a pang of something too much like envy for comfort, as she levered open the elderly refrigerator's door and peered inside. She hadn't felt solid ground under her feet in so long, and then coming back, nothing had been the same. Nancy was going to have a baby.

I always thought I'd have the first baby, Bess thought, not for the first or hundredth time. She scooped one of the still-lukewarm beers off the shelf and headed out, keeping her face normal. As soon as she caught sight of Terry, his features half-indistinct in the moonlight, she let herself smile.

"You read my mind," Ned greeted her, too happily.

Bess shook a finger at him. "Nancy told me to bring one to Terry. She didn't say a word about you."

Grumbling good-naturedly, Ned pushed himself off his chair and stumbled into the cabin, and Bess slouched in the chair he'd left behind. She slid the beer across the small, low table to Terry, who cracked it open.

"Thanks."

Bess just smiled back, catching and holding his gaze a beat longer than was friendly before she crossed her legs. "It's really beautiful out here."

Terry nodded, turning his gaze out toward the water. "To be honest, I was thinking about taking a walk," he said. "Been a long time since I've been out here."

Bess nodded noncommittally. Terry had just opened his mouth again, casting a sidelong glance at her, when he blanched. Mollie had nosed the nearly-closed door open, and was making a break for it, barking happily.

"Guess Mollie had the same idea," Bess replied, before they clattered down the porch steps, taking off after her.

They talked about everything, that night, once they caught up with Mollie and Bess was able to catch her breath. He didn't talk about any other girls, and Bess didn't talk about Johnny. She didn't mention anyone other than Troy, who was entirely non-threatening, and even Troy was just a passing mention. At the end of Bess's "vacation," just before Christmas, her homesickness had come back with devastating force.

"Tell me about it," Terry said, taking the stick Mollie had retrieved to toss it again. "Don't get me wrong. I love to travel," and he snorted, a little, and she smiled. "But I can feel when I've been gone too long."

"I think I've lost that urge for a while," Bess confessed, pushing her long blonde hair behind her ears. "Not forever, though."

By the time they made it back to the cabin, the master bedroom door was closed, the strip of air beneath it dim. Bess and Terry explored the rest of the rooms, whispering and laughing and shushing each other, until they found a second bedroom, already made up.

"Nancy and Ned were married here," Bess said suddenly, proud that she managed to keep her voice even. Exhaustion and the little she'd had to drink, in the heat, were enough.

"Yeah," Terry agreed, kicking his shoes off. "And by the time I got the invitation, it was over and done with. My own cousin's wedding."

"My own best friend's wedding," Bess said, and they both trailed off, looking at each other. She was the first to break away.

"Good night, Terry."

He followed her to his door. "Good night, Bess," he said, and caught her trailing fingers in his. When she turned back, puzzled, he brushed his lips over hers.

Bess didn't feel a single floorboard under her feet as she made her way back to her own bedroom.

--

Then the weekend of the reunion was over and Bess was pretty sure that Terry had been sweet and, quite frankly, practically everything it had taken her so many years to figure out that she needed, but then he was gone. The three of them went back to Chicago, Bess in her small house, where she watered the plants and went to her work as a buyer. She didn't date as much. The last guy she'd actually dated steadily was Troy, and since she'd come out of that relationship much better than she'd started, that had been it.

Nancy was worried, as worried as she could be with her own baby on the way and a thousand things to take care of before going into labor. George didn't have the distraction.

"Don't tell me I have to set you up on a date."

Bess, startled from her reverie, gazed at her cousin with wide, mischievous eyes. "You? Set me up on a date? Are you a robot who just happens to be disguised as George?"

George threw her straw paper at Bess just before the waitress arrived with their appetizer. "Yes. Georgebot. I'm Georgebot."

Bess giggled. "I'm doing fine. Work is pretty crazy right now."

George took a long sip of her drink. "And you haven't heard from..."

Bess's hand tightened on her own knee under the table. George didn't have to finish her sentence; her tone and expression said it all. "No, I haven't," Bess said firmly, her gaze flashing up, almost daring her to continue. "Believe me, I'm not sitting around waiting for that."

George held her hands up, palms out, defensive. "Never said you were."

Bess nodded. "But, trust me, if you run into any cute guys, I'd be more than willing to get their numbers."

They exchanged their knowing, familiar grins, but as Bess drove home a few hours later, a glass of wine still warming her fingertips, she let herself imagine that. Even if someone who wasn't incredibly and obviously gay approached her at work, in a club, anywhere... well, Johnny was her fluke. She just wouldn't date another musician.

Or at least not a guitarist. Maybe a drummer.

Bess had seen so many girls from their graduating class, since she had returned from Europe. Most, practically all, of them had been like Nancy, married, with a child or one on the way. She was behind schedule now. Instead of living in a tiny house, she should be picking out cribs and station wagons. She knew that.

But she was paralyzed with the knowledge that Johnny, even though he had loved her, she knew that he had loved her, hadn't loved her enough to be faithful to her. It was the same old story; it had been this story since she'd started dating, but Johnny...

Bess set her mouth and stared straight ahead, willing herself not to cry. She wasn't going to, she wasn't, she wasn't, she wasn't.

He didn't call her that night, and she was glad. He still had her number, and if he got drunk enough and remembered how to call it, sometimes he still did. She just couldn't bring herself to change it. She couldn't bring herself to cut that last faint connection to him. Even if all it meant was that she listened to the drunken messages he left.

--

"But you're no fun to be around," Bess teased Nancy.

Nancy huffed into the phone. "Even if I'm a guaranteed DD?"

"Well, maybe," Bess replied, laughing under her breath. "Okay. I just don't like feeling like a third wheel."

"I'm sorry, you actually think Ned doesn't have any hot single cop friends? Cop friends, Bess."

"You're gonna set me up with a cop?"

"Only if you want to be set up with a cop," Nancy said, and then Bess heard a rustling on the other end.

"Come on, Bess," Ned said, laughing as his wife protested in the background. "We'll scratch up somebody. And we can get nice and drunk and sing while Nancy drives us around."

Nancy threatened Ned bodily harm while Bess chuckled in response. "Okay. Fine, I'll see you Friday night. And you better show me a good time, Nickerson."

"I swear," Ned promised. "Now, we have to go, I have to tackle Nancy before she knees me."

"Be careful," Bess called. "Both of you."

On Friday night Bess spent twenty minutes picking her outfit, while she was still wrapped in her towel after her shower. She remembered a time when it took an hour, at the least, for her to get ready. It had always taken at least an hour for her to get ready to go out with Johnny, knowing the kind of girls she'd be competing with. Tonight, she'd probably just be competing with Mollie for the couch. She layered a thin t-shirt over a cami, found a wide predistressed belt and a pair of cowboy boots, and she was ready to go.

"Hey!"

Ned was already standing outside the club, waiting for her. "Nan's already inside," he said, hooking his thumb over his shoulder. "She can't stand around for too long."

"And we're at a club why?" Bess laughed, hooking her thumb under her purse strap to hitch it up as they headed inside.

"'Cause the rest of us still like to have fun."

"You did bring someone for me to flirt awkwardly with, didn't you?" Bess asked archly, as they flashed their IDs.

"You never flirted awkwardly a day in your life," Ned accused her. "And yeah. We found someone."

"'We'?"

His back was to them, Nancy facing him across the table, and the look on Nancy's face... was almost crafty, Bess realized. "Hi," she said, sighing inside.

"Hi," Terry replied, his dark eyes laughing up into hers, and Bess relaxed into a genuine smile.

Terry bought her a drink, then Ned bought her a drink, and then Bess set up her own tab and started buying her own drinks. At a quarter to midnight Ned went out on a call, and even once Terry and Bess offered to accompany her home, Nancy shrugged and said she was fine with staying.

"I feel kind of bad," Bess confessed to Terry, as they headed back out on the dance floor.

"Oh? You think she's miserable?" Terry nodded in his cousin-in-law's direction.

"I'd be," Bess admitted. "But I don't want to leave just yet."

Terry half-smiled. "I don't either."

"And I don't even know when I'm going to see you again."

"Didn't Ned tell you? I'm sticking around for a while."

"Ned didn't tell me anything," Bess drawled. "I think he was just waiting to see my face when I saw you."

"Odd," Terry replied. "Could've sworn Nancy was doing the same thing."

Bess traced her palm over Terry's sleeve. "I'm feeling a little thirsty again."

"And the drinks are so damn expensive," Terry sighed. "Look, I know where you and me can find a nice bottle and a big comfortable couch."

"That is the best thing I've heard all night. Long as we take Nan home."

"You kidding? We'll be in her living room."

When Ned came into his own house at two o'clock, Terry and Bess were on the couch, laughing, a half-empty bottle on the coffee table. "Sorry," Ned said blearily. "Nan in bed?"

Bess nodded. "Mind if I crash on the couch?"

The corner of Ned's mouth curved up as he nodded his response. "See you guys in the morning."

After they were alone again, Bess poured herself another shot, then pushed herself unsteadily to her feet. "Need some more Coke."

"Let me help," Terry said, following her, and when he caught up he stumbled into her, until she was pressed between him and the counter. "Where is it?"

Bess reached up and cupped Terry's cheek. "Think it's in the fridge," she replied, closing her eyes as he leaned down. He kissed her on the lips, smiling, and when she opened her eyes again he was still close to her.

"Did Nancy tell you about the last guy I dated?"

She knew immediately that she shouldn't have said it, but Terry, keeping her pinned in his arms, pulled open the fridge. "Should she have?"

Bess shook her head, letting her gaze lazily drift over his features, over the hard line of his chest. "No," she said, and her head fell back. "'Cause he's not important."

Terry nodded gravely. "There's no Coke in here."

"There has to be," Bess gasped, rolling to look inside, the air cool on her face. Milk. She couldn't make out anything else. "Eww."

"If we're out of chaser does that mean we have to stop drinking?" Terry wondered.

"But I have that shot," Bess pouted. "And I don't want you to go to bed yet."

"I don't have to go to bed yet," Terry said, leading her back to the couch. He stopped on the way, to take the shot neat. "See? Not wasted."

He slumped down on the couch and Bess still stood, with his hand on her wrist, holding her. "You're really going to be around?" she asked.

"Yeah," Terry said, and smiled. He squeezed her wrist, gently, then released it, fingers still circling the slender bones.

Bess circled her own fingers around his wrist. "Good," she said, and her smile widened into a grin.

--

They moved so slow, together, so much slower than Bess ever had before. Most of their dates were double dates, with Nancy and Ned, and when he invited her up to his apartment, they talked, actually talked, and his gaze wasn't on her cleavage the entire time. They spent more time in conversation than making out in his kitchen.

"Do you think he actually likes me?" Bess asked Nancy, in a rare display of self-doubt.

Nancy smiled. "Can't you tell? He lights up when you walk into the room. It's incredibly obvious."

"I guess. He just... when we hang out he doesn't seem that interested..."

"In you? You sure you're feeling all right?" Nancy asked, smiling, peering dramatically into Bess's eyes. Nancy's belly was round and full, and her face was starting to get that glow about it, and Bess had to constantly fight the urge to get off her seat at the kitchen counter and help Nancy with dinner preparations.

"In going to bed," Bess clarified, propping her chin on her hand. "Which, I seem to remember you and Ned's sex life moved at the speed of glaciers..."

"Not quite that slow," Nancy said dryly, her palm gliding over her belly. "But if Terry's parents are anything like Ned's parents were, then yeah, I'd have to say he's probably..."

"Repressed?" Bess pitched in, quirking one tweezed eyebrow.

Nancy snorted, rummaging in a cupboard. "Not going to jump into bed without a solid commitment," she said firmly. "But once you get there, I think repressed is probably the last word you'd use."

Bess let her mouth fall open in feigned shock. "Why, Miss Drew... I'm positively scandalized."

Nancy smiled faintly. "Terry likes you," she said. "A lot. And, really, trust me, the longer you wait, the better it will be."

"If I wait too much longer I'll be completely menopausal," Bess said, then finished her drink.

Nancy tossed a dishcloth at her. "If you're really that worried," she said, "take a black lace teddy over to his place and don't take no for an answer."

"I'm not that worried," Bess said, then paused. "Well, not yet, anyway."

--

They had a party at the end of the summer, all of them, at the lake, and Ned invited every boy Bess had ever seen within a ten-mile radius of the Omega Chi house. The bar was crammed full with liquor bottles and mixers, and three coolers full of beer stood in front of the stove. An hour into it the cops were called and guests were still arriving. And Nancy, who looked like she was going to go into labor any terrifying second, was mingling and shooting Ned severe looks whenever he dared obviously drunk guys to run as fast as they could onto the pier and stop just before plunging headfirst into the water.

Bess cracked her third beer and watched Ned reach for a nonalcoholic one. "What, not joining in?"

Ned took a long first swallow and ran the back of his hand over his mouth. "If Nancy goes into labor there has to be at least one sober person here to make sure she gets to the hospital," he explained, just as they both faintly heard the sound of someone splashing into the water, then a chorus of wild laughter. "Cause it sounds like I'm the only one."

Five guys had asked Bess for her phone number when Terry finally arrived, and when he found her he swept her off her feet with a long, sweet kiss. "Ooh, girl, did you switch to my brand?" he smiled, digging in the cooler for his own beer.

"Habit," Bess said, and she couldn't stop the grin from coming over her face, couldn't stop gazing at him. Arm in arm they walked out to the porch, passing George, who was dressed to kill and was gently explaining to some guy who had to weigh three times as much as she did, why he should put the funnel down.

"George really deserves someone great," Bess said, sliding into Terry's lap as he squeezed into the last available seat. "Hey, you don't have another identical cousin, do you?"

Terry laughed and brushed Bess's hair off her forehead, gazing into her eyes. "Sorry. Just the two of us," he smiled.

"Well, any great single guys you know from the Marines?"

Terry shrugged. "You know, last time we were here..."

"Yes," Bess replied, her eyes shining.

"I went to bed kicking myself that I didn't do something like this," he said, leaning forward, and Bess met him halfway, her hand coming up to cup the back of his head. When they broke apart he kissed the side of her neck and Bess closed her eyes.

"And I was kicking myself for the same thing," she told him, and giggled when he lightly brushed his lips over her skin.

When he went back inside for another round of beers, Bess leaned back against the side of the cabin and tilted her head, so she could see the stars. Everything was exactly right, she thought, entirely content. He made her feel like there was no one else on earth, nothing else he cared about. She smiled and closed her eyes, letting her head fall to her shoulder, and when she blinked she saw George throw her a tentative wave from the other side of the porch.

"Hey, Bess?"

Bess turned her head dreamily, and before her eyes adjusted she thought the voice belonged to Terry. "Hey Ned," she greeted him, pulling herself to her feet, vaguely disappointed that her first impression had been wrong. "What's up?"

"How many have you had?"

Bess shrugged and smiled. "Three or four."

"Dammit," Ned said. "I need to go to the store and get some ice, and I need someone to stay with Nancy who isn't already hammered."

"Should've thought of that before you bought all that liquor," Bess managed to say, mock-sternly, holding out an admonishing finger. Then she dissolved into giggles.

Ned gave her a smile in spite of himself. "Maybe Terry isn't too drunk yet."

Ten minutes later Terry was staying with Nancy, having promised that he would call Ned at the first sign of any suspicious cramps, and Bess was in the passenger seat of Ned's car, dodging whenever he turned.

"Y'know, Ned," she said, raking her hair back from her face and securing it, "Terry's been your cousin all your life, right?"

Ned snickered. "Yeah," he drawled, darting a glance in her direction.

"And you know I think you're fantastic. And you and Nan are perfect together."

"Glad to hear that ringing endorsement."

Bess shook a warning finger at him to shush him. "So why... how come you never introduced me to Terry?"

Ned was quiet for so long after that that Bess had her mouth open to ask him again when he said, "Well... for a long time I thought that Nancy and I weren't going to last. And this is the most selfish reason, but I didn't want you hitting it off with my cousin and making me think of Nancy every time I saw you, if she and I were going to break up. Because Nancy really isn't someone you can get over."

Bess squinted at him. "That's ridiculous," she replied, tripping over the syllables a few times before she managed the entire word. "You and Nan have been together for ages."

Ned smiled. "And I think you and Terry might be together for ages too."

Bess bit her lip and grinned. "I really hope so."

"I do too. You deserve someone good like him."

When they pulled up at the convenience store, Bess grabbed Ned's arm. "We have to find George someone," she said, deadly serious. "She deserves someone great."

"And she's at a party with some awesome guys," Ned said, laughing.

Bess rolled her eyes. "You, sir, are more drunk than I am," she said, climbing out of the car.

--

When George found Kevin, no one could have been happier than Bess. For George, she didn't begrudge the long nights spent on the phone speculating about everything Kevin had said during the previous date, she wasn't bruised by the distraction in her cousin's voice and eyes when she talked about him. It was like a fist that had hardened the day she received Nancy's belated wedding invitation was slowly beginning to relax again, the ticking of the clock not quite so near anymore.

And she was happy. For the first time in years Bess was happy again, happy with Terry, happy to babysit Nancy's newborn son, happy that George was happy. And, she noticed, one day at work, she wasn't doodling her name and Terry's on scrap pieces of paper and notebook covers. They spent long lazy weekends together, weekends that he spent sleeping on the couch, and she knew there was some girl in his past that he just wasn't going to talk about, just like Johnny in her own. And that was all right.

She knew she loved him and for the first time she could remember she wasn't desperate to hear him say it back. Not this time. It was enough to see him temporarily shocked to speechlessness when she showed up in a particularly low-cut outfit, or the expression in his eyes when their gazes caught unexpectedly.

Then George called Bess from a pay telephone at O'Hare on Christmas Eve, half incoherent with joy, and Bess had her repeat it three times before she believed it wasn't some elaborate practical joke. George was really going to elope with Kevin. She was really going to do it. And Bess looked over at the bottle of wine on her kitchen table, the one she meant to share with Terry next time he came over, and thought blankly that for some reason fate had decided she would see neither of her best friends on their wedding day.

"Bess? You okay?"

"Yeah," Bess cleared her throat, making herself smile so George could hear it in her voice, could be reassured by it. "I'm great. Take lots of pictures, okay? Lots. And tell Kevin... that I said he was the luckiest bastard in Chicago tonight."

Bess hung up the phone, slowly, thinking of Christmas dinner with her family, thinking of how much she wished Terry hadn't had a company party tonight, thinking of the black lace teddy she had bought after her conversation with Nancy. When the phone rang again she almost wished it would be George calling to tell her the whole thing was off, that between the two of them they would plan the biggest, most elaborate wedding of the decade and she just couldn't do it without her.

"Hello?"

"Bess?"

Behind Terry's voice she could hear the clink and laughter of a bar. "Hi. How's the party going?" she said, her voice sounding like it was coming from somewhere else entirely.

"Good," Terry said. "I think I love you."

Bess sat down hard on the couch without looking, missed, and crashed to the floor.

--

"I'm so sorry to do this."

Snow was falling in heavy drifts outside, and Ned stood in the doorway with his hand on the frame, clearly startled to see Bess standing on their front porch on Christmas day. Mollie nosed around Ned's hand and in a flash of brown and scrape of claws she was off like a shot into the snow, ecstatic. Ned shook his head at her, half-smiling, then stood back so Bess could come inside while he chased Mollie down.

Bess stamped frozen clots of snow from her boots and came inside, her cheeks tingling when the heat washed over them. She didn't bother taking off her heavy jacket, just headed into the kitchen. Nancy had the baby over one shoulder, her head buried in the freezer.

"Hey, would you mind watching the gravy for a minute," Nancy said, distracted.

"Sure," Bess replied, and Nancy's head snapped up, her eyes wide until they settled on her friend.

"Sorry. Bess? Is everything okay?"

Instead of answering, Bess put her keys, still cold from the car, onto the counter, then went to the stove and started mechanically stirring the gravy. "Did you hear from George last night?"

"No," Nancy said, as Jamie started to make strange demanding noises. She jiggled him against her shoulder for a few moments, shushing him, and he settled back down. She sighed and shifted him to her other arm, obviously tired. "Did something happen to her?"

"Well, she called me from O'Hare and told me she and Kevin were eloping," Bess said, and couldn't keep herself from snatching a glance at Nancy.

"Really? Man, that's great," Nancy said, smiling. "Wow. Never would have expected it."

"And then," Bess went on, this time making sure she kept her eyes on the gravy, "Terry called and said he thought he was in love with me."

"I told you you had nothing to worry about," Nancy said, bumping her shoulder against Bess's, just as the two of them heard Ned and Mollie come back into the house. Ned passed through the kitchen, his hair and shoulders dusted with a melting layer of snowflakes, to grab a few cookies before he headed back into the living room. The two of them stayed quiet until he was gone again.

"And that's a good thing, right?" Nancy said, sounding just a little less sure. She gently took the spoon from Bess, and Bess moved away, chewing the inside of her lip.

"I thought it was," she said. "Until I heard him say that, I thought it was everything I wanted to hear. And then he said it and I felt like I was going to have a panic attack."

"In a good butterflies kind of way."

"In a what the hell am I doing kind of way," Bess corrected her. "I'm not ready for this."

"I don't believe that," Nancy said fiercely, and when Jamie started squirming against her shoulder Bess reached for him. Nancy visibly relaxed when her son was out of her arms, and as Bess jiggled him gently her friend stretched, relieved of his weight. "Thanks. Really, Bess, you've been seeing him for a while now, and unless there are things you haven't told me about... you've been so happy."

"I have," Bess agreed. "And... before, it was just... I don't know," she said, frustrated, then came out with it. "When I was with Johnny it wasn't like that. We'd have sex. And then sometimes he would come see me and we would just be together, for a weekend or something, and it was like being caught in a whirlwind, but he was always in the middle of it. And then he'd leave and I'd be so unhappy knowing he was probably with someone else." She sighed.

"And that's how you feel with Terry?"

"He's the total opposite. Except I thought we were just keeping everything open and we weren't going to commit to each other, because, I mean, my God, when you move halfway across the world, and not even for a couple of weeks, that's a pretty big damn commitment, I thought..."

Nancy put a hand on Bess's shoulder. "We were talking about Terry."

"Yeah," Bess mumbled, and when Jamie turned in her arms and saw his mother again, she relinquished him. "I guess I still think that one day Johnny's going to show up at my door and say he's sorry and I'm the best thing that ever happened to him and he wishes he'd never let me go."

"And you want to be waiting for him when that happens," Nancy said, and her face was carefully blank.

"No, I don't," Bess admitted. "Maybe I'm always going to love him a little. But he's not going to control the rest of my life."

Nancy smiled. "There are always going to be guys who have a piece of me," she said. "Who I was, anyway. But not who I am. Maybe he does have a piece of you. But that doesn't mean you have to stay that girl just so he'll have that hold on you."

Bess watched Jamie suck on his fist. "So what do I do," she asked quietly.

"I say you tell Terry about what you're feeling," Nancy said. "And change your phone number."

Bess started a little, at that, a flush rising in her cheeks, but Nancy and George both knew why Bess still had that same number. "Yeah," she said softly. "I think I will."

--

The day she had her phone number changed, Johnny's new CD was everywhere. In the warehouse store she visited to buy her groceries, a huge cardboard cutout of the band was displayed in the middle of one of the aisles, and although the biggest figure was the lead singer, she could still see Johnny on a stage bending over his guitar, and when she guiltily realized she was searching the entire display for another glimpse of his face, she made a disgusted noise to herself and steered her cart away.

"So what did you do today?"

"The usual," Bess told Terry, curling up on her couch, as she heard him sigh at the other end of the line. "Nothing important. So are we still on for dinner and a movie Saturday night?"

"Of course," he said easily, and she could imagine him in his bed, one arm folded behind his head. "Look, I know this weekend, when I called..."

"Yeah," Bess said softly, her mouth curling up in a smile. The tension rose in her, but she swallowed it and said it anyway. "I love you too."

And he sighed, and it was like he had been just as nervous as she was. "Good," he said quietly. "I'm so glad you said that."

She started to tell him about Johnny five times, over the next month, and a dozen times she found herself in his arms and wondering why, exactly, what was holding him back, what was keeping him from taking the next step, when his palm was cupped over her bare waist and she was breathless from his kiss. And when she let her head drop, her mouth red, her fingers tracing down the nape of his neck, she thought about the thousand ways it had nearly killed her, knowing that Johnny could make love to her without feeling the least qualm about picking up the next girl who looked at him the right way.

"Terry," she said softly, looking at his neck, the stubble and the shape of his adam's apple. "This is too good to be true, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," he said, his voice rough, his hands at her waist, fingertips tapping against her skin.

She looked up at him, her brows drawing together. "I just don't want to find out one day that you're great except that you have seventeen ex-wives, or you're really a contract killer..."

He laughed. "I may have a few things in my past that I'm not exactly proud of, but ex-wives and mafiosi aren't on the list."

She smiled. "You've been in love before, though."

"Yeah, but not like this," he said, and there was no trace of levity in his voice. "Never like this."

And she realized, as he kissed her again, that maybe Johnny had broken something in her, some elemental part that could trust without fear, and it had taken this long for her to heal.

"I wish you'd never leave," she admitted, her cheeks barely burning, when he pulled back.

He smiled, brushing her hair away from her face. "Who said I ever had to?"

--

When they had been dating, officially dating, for just over a year, he gave her a dozen roses and took her to a very nice restaurant, and she didn't have to be a private detective to see what was going on, not with his obvious nervousness and preoccupation. Halfway through the meal, she reached over the cloth for his hand and when their skin touched, his gaze found hers, and she smiled.

"Terry, calm down," she said. "It's all right. Whatever it is, it's all right."

He swallowed and nodded. "I know."

Gradually, he did relax, at least a little, when she asked him how his team was doing, when she talked about George and Kevin. He had shaved so close that his cheek gleamed, and he kept sliding his hands over the crease of his pants, like he was preparing to bolt for the door.

She took one last slow bite of her meal and just gazed at him for a second while he carelessly stirred the remains of his entree. While they hadn't yet made love, she had let him know she was willing, and she knew for a fact he was, too. Even so, the black lace teddy still had the tags on, and he was still sleeping on her couch more often than not. Tonight, though...

"Bess?" He cleared his throat.

"Yes?"

He reached into his pocket and closed his eyes for a long moment before sliding out of his chair, sinking down onto one knee, and even though part of her had been expecting it, all she felt was confusion, wondering if he had somehow dropped his silverware without her having seen it.

"Marry me."

She brought her hand up to her throat when he showed her the ring, and his brown eyes were so vulnerable that she had to blink sudden tears away. "I..."

She choked up and he took her hand. "I know that I'm never going to find anyone else I love as much as I love you," he said, his voice rough from keeping the tears at bay. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

She squeezed his hand. "I have something to tell you first," she said softly. "Something that might change your mind."

"Nothing would," he said firmly.

"Yeah... but I want you to hold onto this anyway," she told him, sliding the ring back toward him, although it broke her heart to do it. "Just in case."

Back at her house, she told him as much as she dared about Johnny, although there was a lot of it she couldn't bring herself to say because only Troy knew, and he knew only because he'd been in the right place at the right time. Troy was ancient history. Johnny was only as far away as the next song on the radio, the next CD display, the next web ad.

"Are you still in love with him?" Terry asked, gazing straight at her, no fidgeting, no shrinking away from it.

Bess shrugged. "Next to you, no," she said, and it was the truth. In the hard light of day, she loved Terry, loved him body and soul, so very much, but she didn't feel that same desperation, the same panic she had when she'd been with Johnny. Johnny could promise her the world, and he had given it to her, without ever bothering to find out if she wanted more. For Terry, though, this was all of him, lain bare, and without the complication and weight of a sexual relationship, and it was more than she'd ever dared dream she'd have with Johnny.

"Does that mean you are?"

Bess pulled the elastic out of her hair and ran her hands through it a few times, then swept the whole mess back again. "How do you feel about the first girl you were ever in love with?"

Terry's eyes dropped a little, and the corner of his mouth curved up. "TouchÈ," he replied.

Bess smiled, suddenly. "Nancy? Had this thing for Frank Hardy since we were teenagers. Since before she met Ned. And even now, if he walked into the same room with her, there would be this... this connection, between them. But it doesn't matter because what she has with Frank is a cigarette lighter and what she has with Ned is a forest fire."

"So Johnny's the cigarette lighter?"

Bess looped her arms around Terry's shoulders, holding his gaze with her own. "And you're the forest fire."

Terry smiled. "Does that mean you're saying yes?" he whispered.

"For as long as you want me," she said, and when he kissed her he was laughing.

--

"You have no choice."

Nancy, Bess, and George were standing in the bridal store, with George standing on one of the raised platforms in front of the tri-fold mirrors, in her newly-hemmed dress. The saleswoman hovered beside Bess with the catalog showing the styles and colors, and George had her face screwed up in an expression of extreme distaste.

"It's very popular this year," the saleswoman, Brenda, chimed in, her own brows drawn together.

"I look like a dessert!" George burst out finally.

Bess smiled. "You'll look like a dessert and you'll like it," she said, folding her arms. "That's what you get for eloping and making sure I couldn't come to your wedding. Either of your weddings," she said, glaring at Nancy in turn, who had the grace to blush slightly. "So if I decide we're going with black lace gloves and early 80s Madonna, then by God that's what we're doing."

"You wouldn't," Nancy said, her voice flat with shock.

Bess sighed. "Hey, at least they don't look like our parents' prom dresses."

George shuddered. "Orange?"

"Hush. Just neither of you get pregnant before the wedding and we'll be fine."

"At least you'll look good," Nancy said, glancing over at Bess's still-open dressing room. Her gown hung from the door, swathed in heavy plastic. The skirt flowed easily over the yards of crinoline and petticoat, and her sash was pale silver satin.

Bess smiled. "And you two will, too. Trust me."

"Sure. At the first sign of black lace gloves, I'm out of here," George said, stepping down. "Now let's go talk about the bachelorette party."

"Yeah," Nancy chorused, a gleam in her eye. "George and I didn't get one of those. Maybe we should have a bachelorette weekend."

"Complete with detox after?"

"You bet," George answered with a smile.

After a very long lunch and leisurely dinner with the better part of a bottle of wine, the three of them parted company, and Bess walked back into her house feeling pleasantly drowsy, her fingers and jaw tingling when they moved. Bess hung her dress over her bedroom door and smoothed it out, going over everything in her head again. Four bridesmaids, including Nancy and George; four ushers including Ned and Kevin, everyone with roses, and even though George was bucking it Bess knew her cousin looked great in her orange satin...

Bess looked at her dress again. She had already worn it twice, once when she had decided on it and once for her fitting, but she was sure the hem still needed to come up a few inches. She found her shoes, so new the paper was still balled in the toe, and began the laborious task of struggling into the whole thing, from the petticoat and strapless bustier to the shoes. The wine was starting to settle in her head, in the beginnings of a throbbing headache, and she went to the kitchen as she watched her toes peep from under the hem, carefully measuring her steps. Half a bottle of wine in the refrigerator. She'd regret it tomorrow, she knew, but for now it was the best thing.

When the doorbell rang Bess brightened immediately, taking a few halting steps before she kicked her shoes off and ran to the door, her full skirt gathered in her hands. Her warning to Terry that he couldn't see her in the dress yet died on her lips.

"Hi."

Johnny spoke first because Bess didn't, because Bess couldn't. She stood in the open doorway, one foot on her porch, and looking into his eyes, the pull came back as though it had never left her.

"Wait," she stammered out, and shut the door. She was struggling out of the dress before she had even made it back to her bedroom, unlatching every hook and finding every button with deliberate speed. The dress was safely hung up and she was sliding her shirt on when she finally thought about calling Terry.

And telling him what, she wondered. He was working late.

Ned, she finally decided. If Johnny was drunk and hard to handle, she'd call Ned and have him take care of it. She nodded firmly to herself and went back to the door, holding her breath as she peered out.

He was still there. She felt simultaneously disappointed and glad.

"So you're getting married," he said, when she opened the door again.

"Yeah," she said, feeling tired. "That all you wanted, to come by and see for yourself?"

He walked in and she had to remind herself to close the door and turn, the entire time expecting him to have vanished, like some pink elephant conjured by too much wine in too short a time. But he was still all too real, and he was sitting at the end of her couch.

"You made it a little hard," he said. "I tried to call first..."

She had to clear her throat. She could also distinctly hear Nancy and George in the back of her head, shouting that she should get the hell out of this situation immediately. "My number's listed," she said calmly. "I just moved."

He nodded, accepting the lie, and picked up a china cat figurine from her coffee table, running his thumb between its ears. "I fucked up and I'm sorry," he said, not looking at her, just looking down at the cat, at its lifeless painted eyes. "Nothing makes sense without you."

Bess was suddenly sick. "It's been years," she objected, gazing at him, daring him to meet her eyes and hoping he wouldn't. "It took you this long? Honestly?"

"Hey, things have been busy," he defended himself, glancing up with that smile she knew so damn well, and the sight of it was still so familiar that her heart jumped a bit. "The tourã"

"I know about the tour," she said icily, cutting him off.

Johnny shook his head, putting the cat figure back down. "You don't," he said. "You can come ask Ben, I've been... I've been out of my head since I lost you."

The thought of talking to Ben Devliss made the flesh over Bess's spine crawl. "Johnny, I'm getting married in a week," she said, her eyes closed. "And I'll bet you even money that you'll find another muse before I leave for my honeymoon."

"You were so much more than that to me," he said quietly.

Cigarette lighter, forest fire. Bess sighed and headed for the kitchen and the wine and the promise of a few more hours' respite from her headache. Cigarette lighter. She was remembering another apartment and how he would come to her like this, and there would be better bottles of wine and more expensive lingerie, and he would be gone in the morning. And Terry loved her, but Terry had never taken that step with her, and if Johnny's smile was familiar then the rest of the script she knew by heart.

She poured the glass nearly to the brim and took a long gulp. In a week it wouldn't be a question anymore. She'd know.

Can he really love me if he doesn't want to have sex with me?

Which wasn't fair to think, and she knew it, so she didn't think it often, but sometimes she was wound so tight and she knew she wasn't the only one left frustrated when they had to say good night.

She knew there was no way she'd break up with Terry. Even though parts of her still felt uniquely attuned to the man in the next room, and the thought that maybe, even if it had taken this long, maybe the shock of her leaving him had been enough to show him that she really was the only thing that could make him complete...

"Bess," he whispered.

His hand was over hers and he was so close behind her that she could feel him, his breath against the back of her neck. His arms slid around her and she closed her eyes, her forehead pressed against the cabinet.

"I need you."

The joy she felt at hearing him say the words was almost painful.

--

Bess had never expected Johnny to say yes to a church wedding. Honestly she hadn't thought about them being married at all, not even at the height of her attraction to him. He wasn't the marrying type. Quickie in Vegas with an equally quick dissolution later, yes. The notoriety and irreverence were just his style. Bacon-wrapped scallops and a DJ, no.

"You need me because you can't have me," she'd told Johnny, when he was so close that his breath was on her lips. She thought of her honeymoon and learning someone new and how the anticipation, how her entire life she had wanted something this sweet and delicate, and how Nancy and George had told her a thousand times that if she thought she deserved to date Johnny, she was just afraid to find someone worthy of her.

"It's not that," he said earnestly, his eyes searching hers. "I swear. You were so good to me and I realize that now, and there has been no one elseã"

She shook her head, a tear falling down her cheek. "And then what?" she asked softly. "And in three days your van heads to another city."

"You could..."

She closed her eyes and shoved him away from her, gently, took a few steps back. "For a long time all I wanted was for you to do this, to come tell me you were sorry, just so I could tell you that I hated you," she said. "Just so you'd know what it felt like to have your heart broken. But that was before I met Terry, and that was before I realized that you never really did love me, and I can't break what I don't have."

"But I do love you, Bess," he said, the sincerity in his eyes so pure. "I never stopped."

"Then I was all the more a fool," she said, crossing her arms. "To think I deserved it. You're welcome to come to the wedding. Maybe that way you can move on."

"Sweetheart..."

"Just go," she said, biting her lip, staring hard at the clock instead of his face. "Please."

But he wasn't there. He was nowhere in the crowd gathered in the church pews. Somehow, she wasn't surprised.

"You ready?" Nancy was beaming, rich satin swishing at her ankles.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Bess said, and grinned, turning the bouquet in her hands one last time as the march started. Terry was in full uniform at the altar, and even all the months of celibacy weren't so powerful an aphrodisiac as the sight of him clean-shaven and in dress black, his gloved hand clenching and unclenching at his side, relaxing only when he saw her for the first time.

"Sweet God."

"I know," Nancy murmured, waiting for her place in the music before stepping out. "Maybe if I'm nice, Ned'll put on his uniform later..."

When the two of them started down the aisle, they were both pink with stifled laughter. Terry shot her a nervous smile, and she shook her head at him a little.

"So you don't think it's because he's a virgin?" Bess had asked Nancy when they were both too drunk to watch what they were saying, and George was still charming shots out of the bartender, getting as much mileage out of the cheap party-favor veil as she could.

Nancy had laughed. "I asked Ned and when he stopped laughing, he said you have absolutely nothing to worry about," she said. "But it's like... it's gone bad for him before. And this time, with you, he wants it right." She shrugged. "Our wedding night was amazing, but if we'd waited?"

Bess stirred her drink, then drained half of it in one sip. "True love waits, huh."

"As long as it can," Nancy agreed. Then a sly smile came over her face. "And oh, girl, if he has that kind of willpower..."

Bess would have seen the looks Nancy and Ned were giving each other, the looks Kevin and George were giving each other, but when she looked at Terry, that pull, the steadily growing attraction that she had allowed by slow degrees in the entire time they knew each other, was deeper, more profound than that horrible joy she had felt at Johnny's self-serving declaration. He loved her, and it was quiet and solemn and total, and her fear came only when she realized that she had been able to slowly claw herself out of the hell that was her relationship with Johnny, but from this there was no coming back.

When the pastor asked if anyone had any objection to their union she glanced out over the audience, almost daring anyone to cough or move, and it was then that she saw Johnny standing at the back with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall, staring straight back at her.

You'll never have to wonder, she thought. You already know.

By the time they were pronounced husband and wife Johnny was already gone, but she had already forgotten; the congregation rose as one, clapping and cheering, none more loudly than Nancy and George.

Terry took a deep breath. "You ready, Mrs. Nickerson?"

"You bet," she answered, and then his mouth met hers in a kiss so sweet it took her breath away.