“She has passed it on.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You told us she wouldn’t pass it on.”

“I said that is what I thought would happen. This was unexpected, but not unplanned for.”

“Do you know how or who, yet—or more importantly why?”

“I’m still working on the how or who, but the why is obvious. I warned the council that there was always a chance that she might pass it on. You chose to wait. Did you really think she would break the chain? She was getting older and she never used it. I can’t imagine having access to it and never using it. She either had tremendous guts or was tremendously stupid.”

“She knew the danger. What do you think would happen if she—”

“I’ll stop you there. This is not a secure line and you talk too much.”

“Very well. What is your plan?”

“You know what I have to do. We agreed to the plan when I first took this position. Nothing has changed.”

“May I know when and where?”

“No.”

“At least tell me who.”

“Depends on what I find out.”

“You give me nothing to go back with. I have no choice but to trust you.”

“Yes.”

“Will you hurt her?”

“Maybe. She knew the consequences years ago. She stopped cooperating, and now we must hold up our end of the bargain. I hope whoever she passed it on to knows the dangers.”

“It wouldn’t change anything.”

“No.”

“Is it possible you made a mistake? Forget I asked that. I am sure you would not be speaking to me if you had any doubts. I’ll have to report this to the council.”

“That’s why I called you.”

“I figured as much. I’ll contact you if they disagree with your actions.”

“I will not expect a call then.”

“Probably not. Contact me if something changes.”

The morning sun flashed through the skylight in Lenny’s bedroom. Lenny hid under the covers, but when breathing became difficult and hot he threw the covers off and reached over to Samantha’s side of the bed. Her side was still warm and indented, but empty. Lenny stepped out of bed, threw on some clothing, and went searching for Samantha.

“You are up early,” Samantha said, standing over a frying pan stirring eggs. “I was looking forward to waking you up.”

“You just wanted to take advantage of me,” Lenny said. He walked behind Samantha and hugged her. She continued to stir the breakfast dispassionately.

“That was last night,” Samantha said.

“What does that have to do with anything? It is a new day and those eggs smell delicious,” Lenny said.

Samantha gave Lenny a playful push away from her. She grabbed his shirt before he backed too far from here. “Are you wearing that stupid sweater again?” Samantha said.

Lenny had not noticed what clothing he put on when he woke up. He was surprised to realize that he was wearing the pink sweater. “I just reached for the first clothing I could find this morning. I must have thrown it on the floor last night.”

“You were in a bit of a hurry to get undressed, if I remember correctly. Most of your clothing ended up on the floor,” Samantha said.

“I’ll have to take your word for what happened last night. It’s all still a bit fuzzy,” Lenny said.

“Fuzzy? Is that your euphemism for it now?” Samantha said.

Lenny poured a glass of orange juice and drank it. He poured a second glass of orange juice and drank it. He finished emptying the carton of orange juice in his third glass and drank it. “We’re out of orange juice,” Lenny said.

“I just opened a new carton yesterday morning. I think there’s another carton in the fridge. What are your plans for today?” Samantha said. She added salt to the eggs and turned off the burner.

“No plans. Spend the morning with you, catch up with some work, maybe watch some football, the usual Sunday activities,” Lenny said.

Samantha spooned the eggs onto two plates and brought them to the table. Lenny grabbed two forks from the drawer and the second carton of orange juice and two glasses, and followed her to the table.

“Stacy called this morning,” Samantha said.

Lenny groaned. “How can you talk to her so much? You should start charging her for your sessions with her. At least therapists get paid to hear their patients whining for hours at a time. What was she complaining about this time?” Lenny said.

“She didn’t complain at all. She called me to give you a message: she is eternally grateful for your advice yesterday. Andy came clean with her. He told her everything. He was involved in some sick shit. But they worked it out. You’ll never guess what type of people he got involved with, never in a million years.” Samantha said.

“Phone sex blackmailers?” Lenny said. His thoughts from yesterday flooded back through his mind. He saw the blackmailer, a young Russian man with a small build. He was not going to be happy when he next called Andy. But it would work out. He was a swindler, but not the violent type. The conversation with Andy went well for Stacy. She took it as well as he expected—almost exactly as he expected. But he knew his prediction was just a best guess. It was not truth like he had begun to understand truth. It would take Stacy many years to trust Andy again, but those would be good years.

“Lenny, did you hear me?” Samantha said. She looked at him, her eggs hovering near her mouth.

“I missed that,” Lenny said.

“Are you okay? You are beginning to freak me out. Are you sure you’re not coming down with something?” Samantha said. She put her fork down and placed her hand on Lenny’s forehead. He accepted her ministrations without comment but knew, down to the names and types of viruses flooding through his bloodstream, that he was relatively healthy. What he didn’t know was how he would feel tomorrow, but after acknowledging the hole in his knowledge, he accepted it as the way it was.

“I thought Andy must have told you. You were a bit too insightful yesterday. When did Andy spill the beans? And, more importantly, why didn’t you tell me about it? I thought we don’t hide things like this from each other? Remember: the couples honor code—you warn all your friends, I warn all of mine so there’s no misunderstanding. Didn’t we swear in blood to this or something?” Samantha said.

“Andy? Oh.” Lenny said. He did not want to lie to Samantha, but he felt that it was the best way not to scare her. He felt that this was the right path to take. He would have told her everything yesterday at dinner if she had asked, but now that he had a chance to sleep on it, telling her might have been a big mistake. The scenarios ran through his brain and he evaluated each one before deciding on the best approach. When he spoke, Samantha was waving her hand in front of his eyes. “He must have told me last time we went to dinner. I don’t remember exactly when.”

“Are you sure you are okay? You seem especially slow the last few days,” Samantha said.

“I’ve been doing more thinking lately is all. Joining the human race is not as easy as you made it out to be,” Lenny said.

“I am very proud of you, you know. You really showed a different side of yourself yesterday. I like that side,” Samantha said.

“Yes. I remember how much you liked it last night,” Lenny said with a deep smirk.

Samantha cleared her throat. “I’m sure Andy didn’t give you all the juicy details,” Samantha said.

“I bet Stacy did and now you are going to regale me with the tale,” Lenny said.

“Don’t give me your smart mouth. But, yeah, I’m going to regale you, so get ready for the crunchy details,” Samantha said.

“Crunchy or juicy?” Lenny said.

“Shush, you. According to Andy, approximately six-months ago, Andy started calling a phone sex operator—that is a few months before he met Stacy, or so he claimed. He found one that he liked, whatever that means for phone sex operators, I imagine a deep, huffy voice and a good vocabulary, and began calling her every night, for two hour rendezvous. These are his words, not mine. Before I heard this story, I didn’t realize you can have a rendezvous over the phone.

“When he started seriously dating Stacy, about three-months ago, he decided to break off his conversations with Tomlin, the phone sex operator, who, as far as I was able to tell, is a female phone sex operator, although that was not clear and I did not want to push Stacy for those details,” Samantha said.

Lenny watched Samantha talk but he was only partly listening. He knew that Andy had been telling the truth on almost everything that had happened. He wanted to fill in the details that Samantha was missing, like Andy spoke with many more operators than Tomlin—he became addicted to speaking to them and made as many as three different calls to different operators every day. And these calls had put his job in jeopardy. But he knew Samantha would ask questions about his knowledge, and, besides, Andy has managed to give up his addictions and with Stacy’s vigilance, will kick the habit.

“Anyway, two weeks ago, Tomlin, the phone-sex operator, began to call Andy again. At first, she told him that she missed him, and desperately wanted to hear from him again. Andy, being a man, fell for her hook, line, and sinker. This was, if you remember, when Stacy started calling me at outrageous hours. She had a feeling Andy was cheating on her,” Samantha said.

“I remember that part only too well,” Lenny said.

“Tomlin was not satisfied with just talking to Andy on the phone. She wanted to take the next step and arranged to meet him out. Andy was only too happy to oblige her. That is when Boris, her pimp, if you will, photographed them together. A week ago, Tomlin stopped calling Andy, and Boris started calling him. Boris e-mailed Andy the pictures he had taken, and the formal negotiations began in earnest.” Samantha said.

Lenny nodded, finished the eggs on his plate, and began picking on the eggs on Samantha’s plate.

“Boris demanded fifty dollars a week for his silence. Andy paid him for this past week, but felt terrible about it. He’s a horrible liar and Stacy became suspicious. Andy was paying the money so that Stacy would not find out. However sick that is, Stacy really felt that it was a sign of Andy’s love for her—he put himself through all this trouble just to keep their relationship going. While I think he’s an idiot and probably should be quartered, Stacy gushed when she told me the story. I have never heard her gush, and it was a little strange. I’m usually the gusher.

“Hey! Those were my eggs.” Samantha said.

Lenny looked at her plate and realized he had eaten all of her eggs. His stomach felt warm and content, if still a little empty. “Sorry,” Lenny said.

“I’m going to meet Stacy for lunch. I’m sure there are many more details she left out this morning. Do you want to join us?” Samantha said.

“I think I’ll pass, if you don’t mind. Too much Stacy will drive any man mad.” Lenny said.

“Okay. Don’t forget to shower today. You might as well pretend like you are going to get something accomplished.” Samantha said.

Lenny nodded in agreement and cleared the table before going upstairs.

After showering, Lenny stood in his bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist admiring his physique in the mirror. He flexed his arms, feeling the little bumps the muscles created. Lenny was a good size for his weight, always having had the luck of not having to worry about his weight. Throughout school, he had been too skinny and not athletic. That changed when he started working and began participating in many sporting leagues. Now, after frequenting the gym, perhaps not as often as he should—a few times a week—the progress was apparent. While he did not wish to return to school, he did sometimes wonder how different it would have been if he had grown into this athleticism earlier in life.

After drying himself, Lenny stepped into boxers and pulled on a pair of shorts. He reached down to the floor and picked up the pink sweater. He grabbed the inside neck and raised it above his head. Before he put it on, he saw what he was doing in the mirror, holding the pink sweater poised over his head. He did not know why he was putting it on. As usual, it was seventy degrees outside, way too warm to be wearing a sweater, especially during the day. During his shower, he decided to bike over to the coffee shop before he started to work. The sweater was the furthest thing from proper biking clothing as he could think of.

He lowered the sweater and stared at it.

Word count: 2,236

Words left: 41,005

Time: 1.5 hours

Edit time (mostly spent adding more yummy goodness): 30 minutes

Caffeination: Tall Mocha

Feeling: I felt pretty good today. I was tired, but I got a lot of writing done early. I had much more I wanted to write today, but I decided that the part I ended at will give me a great place to start tomorrow. I'm really interested to know what happens, and, according to some people, that's the best place to stop because you have a great hook for the next day. We'll see.