I’ve heard of those.’ ‘I don’t fuck men. And I didn’t say I didn’t want you. I just said I didn’t want to go somewhere and jump your bones.’ ‘So what’s next?’ ‘Well, I’d like you to meet me at the stadium tonight. Just before they turn the lights out. That would be about ten, right?’ ‘They lock the place.’ ‘I have a key.’ ‘You have a key. I don’t know. You could be some kind of pervert or creepy rapist. My cousin is a cop, a big cop.’ ‘Bring him, if it makes you feel safer. But I think you can take care of yourself.’ ‘I can.’ ‘Tonight then.’ ‘Tonight.’ He wasn’t late, in fact, a little bit early. She was wearing a dress. He knew she would be, he had his informants, so he had brought along a pair of running shoes in her size. That’s all. ‘So what are we going to do? Talk? Make out? Lie on the grass and look at the stars? Make love on the infield? ‘None of the above.’ He locked the entrance gate behind him and led her through the tunnel under the bleachers. Her steps grew slower behind. "And to you both," Bette added, her words thick with emotion.They raised their glasses and there was a brief, embarrassed moment, then they all drank. The festive mood heightened, and it was as if there had never been a five-year hiatus in their relationship, Ken thought happily, as if they were a close-knit family group that had never been separated by tragedy and human follyThe champagne seemed to make Tony loquacious. He told his mother how he had caught the pass which won for Westridge High School the conference championship this past year; that he was thinking of entering State next fall, hopefully on a football scholarship, and planning to study Engineering; that he was going steady with a girl named Debbie Mason, who was beautiful, and that things were pretty serious between them.He was just starting to voice some of his views on the current political situation, and Ken was pouring more champagne into their glasses, when the doorbell rang.Ken frowned, glanced at his watch; it.
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