“But if you throw the ball into Mrs. Pakulski's yard, you're going to be the one who has to get it. I'm too old to be climbing over fences."

Nathan eyed him with the squint-eyed suspicion he seemed to hold for anyone over the age of six.

“All right. But you better catch it if I make a good throw."

“Deal.”

“So what's new, Jeremy?" his sister asked later, as they sat around the patio table after the meal. She held Abigail to her chest. Beneath the concealing dishtowel, satisfied gurgles attested to Abigail's healthy young appetite.

“I hardly get to see you anymore. How did that internship at the Law firm downtown work out?"

“It was fantastic," he said enthusiastically. "I was able to work with

Rachel Wainwright. She's absolutely brilliant."

"Wainwright?" his brother-in-law said. "Oh, yeah. Wasn't she the lead attorney in that Antioch Chemical lawsuit? Man, they lost a shit-ton of money. Their stock fell three points when the verdict was announced."

“Shit-ton, shit-ton!" chanted Nathan, displaying a four year-old's ability to Latch onto the most offensive part of any conversation

“Hush,” his mother said. She eyed her brother speculatively. "Weren't you over at her place yesterday? I thought I heard Mom saying something about it."

He nodded. "She invited me over for a cookout with her family and some friends." He took a deep breath, not looking at his mother, who was engaged in an animated conversation with Walt's parents.

“I'm going to be going out with her daughter on Friday night. Dinner and a play over at College of DuPage afterward. Her brother is playing Iago in a production of Othello.”

As if guided by radar, Marian Edwards' head swung around. "A date? With who? What's her name? What's she like? Is she pretty? What does she do for a Living?"

Jeremy rolled his eyes. Around the table, Frances and Karen and Alicia smirked. His mother’s mania for getting her youngest child married off had reached levels that his sisters found hilarious and he found annoying. "Her name's Sarah Sunderman, Mom. She graduated high school last spring and she's going to be starting culinary school at Kendall

College in a few weeks. She's..." He trailed off. How could he describe

Sarah to his mother? Her bright eyes, her mischievous sense of humor?

Her wonderful way of walking around a kitchen, as if she owned it? Her tall, slender body? He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, grateful the patio table hid his groin from Marian's perceptive gaze, as even thinking about Sarah caused his cock to stir.

While no stranger to the pleasures of the body, he had to admit frankly to himself there was something about Sarah which he found simultaneously incredibly arousing and disturbing. The raw, sensual power of her presence had hit him Like a sledgehammer. When she made an offer to him to go to her room and make love, as casually as anyone else might talk about going to the grocery store, he had been almost painfully aroused and terrified at the same time. Unable to cope with such a blatant invitation, he had dealt with it by beating a shameful retreat, and had spent the hours since then castigating himself for missing a golden opportunity. He hadn't heard from Sarah since he had bailed, and was half-convinced she would send him a text message canceling their date at any moment.

“She's nice," he finished lamely. Though, to be honest, nice was not one of the words he would use to describe Sarah Sunderman. She might be smart, funny, attractive, and sexy as hell. But she was not nice.

“Well, I hope to met her soon," his mother said, apparently satisfied with his description.

He was just reaching for another helping of apple pie when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Looking at it, he saw Sarah's number on the screen.

“Excuse me," he said, standing up and leaving the table.

“That's her, isn't it?" his mother said. She gave him a bright smile.

"Tell her I say hi!"