She felt regal in Eli's truck. The leather seats were wide, deep, and soft. And she was a tallish girl who liked stretching her legs out all the way. The lovely little German coupe she drove was splendid, but being so far off the road, as she was now, was thrilling. After five or so minutes of silent driving, she fiddled with the radio dial, and, as they cruised the city's streets, went back and forth between singing along with the radio and sitting in contented silence. It was remarkable how comfortable she felt with Eli with neither speaking a word. Most of her friends were talkers—the idea of five minutes silence would have been maddening for any of them—and when she was in their company, she reciprocated.

"Okay," she said after forty leisurely minutes of driving, "you said there were clues. How'd you know your dad was gay?"

"The first and biggest was the way he was with mom. The summer between sophomore and junior year, I came home one day and found mom crying . She wasn't usually like that. I mean, she had moods, bad ones sometimes, but she was never a crier. It took me a while, but she confessed she thought the old man was having an affair."

"With another guy?"

"No, no. She was clueless. Mom thought he was hitting this chubby little blonde who worked in his office."

"Oh, that's right. So, what was it about your dad?"

"Right. I got to chatting with mom, and she comes out with the fact they almost never had sex."

Kate did a poor job of stifling a shriek. His words struck close to home in the most intimate way.

"Yeah! Right? Not the kind of thing any normal sixteen-year-old ever wants to hear from his mom. But, you know, I couldn't cover my ears. She ended up giving me details and statistics. Anyway, apparently, they'd never really had much of a sex life. Mom just put it down to the fact the old man was really into the church, which she sort of was, too, but mostly just rolled her eyes about ...."

"Wait, wait, wait ... I thought you were Jewish."

"What?"

"Well ... Eli?"

He started laughing so hard his head nearly hit the steering wheel. A minute passed before he collected himself.

"Jesus, woman," he panted, "you're gonna make me have a wreck. Let's talk about the name later. But didn't it occur to you we went to a Catholic school?"

"There were some Lutherans and Presbyterians."

Still laughing, Eli steered them to a drive-thru and, after making a quick order, took up a spot in the restaurant's parking lot.

"I'm going to have to run eight miles tomorrow," said Kate as she took her first fry from the bag. "So, your dad and mom."

He chuckled again. "Yeah, so, not the kind of thing a kid usually wants to hear ... but, you know what, um ... look, I knew how hot my mom was. And I felt the deepest sympathy for her. At that point, my old man hadn't touched her in nearly five years."

"That poor thing," she whispered. "I really feel for you mom ... trust me." You have no idea....

"Yeah ... even a religious zealot isn't going to neglect such a beautiful woman for so long, and then something mom said hit me. The old guy had been going on a lot of business trips at the time. She thought he was taking along the chubby blonde, but I'd run by the office a couple of times to drop things off for him during those trips. The woman in question was always at the office. And I knew that when he travelled, it was usually with the same junior associate."

"Oh ... jeez," she said.

"Yeah, it was the same guy he ended up running off with to Brazil." He sighed and stared at the wheel a few moments. "It took a long time for mom to accept the old man's sexuality. I don't know if her confronting him hastened his leaving. Maybe it did. And I don't think his leaving ... well, I know mom had other problems, it wasn't all the old man. But, um ... his leaving hurt her, made her feel like her whole life had been a bust. And there was nothing I could say to convince her otherwise. Nothing," he whispered.

She reached out and fed him a fry.

"I really do feel for your mom," she said plainly, "you have no idea how much."

"But how is it I'm not Jewish?"

"Exactly!" she demanded.

"Okay, here it is. Sam grew up in an intensely religious family. Looking back, I don't think that was a prop. He really was a pretty devote Catholic ... though a conflicted one. So, uh ... I got a biblical name, Elijah."

"Ahh ... so, what's your middle name?"

"Mom was a midwestern girl who loved history and who was one-eighth Cherokee. So, a native American middle name. Tecumseh."

"Tecumseh," she nearly screamed. "That's wonderful."

"And your middle name?"

"Blah ... plain old Elizabeth. You got cool names."

"No joke. You have no idea how close I came to being named Athelstan."

"You are from the English aristocracy, aren't you?" she teased.

"Oh, God, no ... well, no, wait. I take that back. There is a famous English family named Pitt-Rivers. But my name's a hyphenate. Mom was a Rivers, Sam was a Pitt. But the old man claimed to trace his family back to William Pitt, of Pittsburgh fame. I sort of doubt it ... but who knows."

"So ... not circumcised?"

"Woman, why were you aiming your boobs at me, earlier?" The tone of his question was friendly, even joking, but ....

"Beeeecause ... my hair is starting to fleck gray, my eyes are buggy, my nose is half again too long for my face, my cheekbones are cadaverous, and my lips are so pale they're almost the same color as my skin. If I didn't have makeup on right now, you'd think it was the zombie apocalypse."

"And your boobs are your best feature?"

"No, that's my ass. But you haven't looked at that, either."

"Those boobs are magnificent, and that really is an incomparable butt. But I don't believe anything else you just said."

Why did you say all that to him? she wanted to scream at herself. She was never forceful or coarse, but she'd been both with him. Are you trying to drive him away? The thought caused something to soften in her—though she still found the boob-shoving rather funny. Well, when in doubt, change the subject.

"I understand what your mom went through. The last few years before Otto died, his, uh ... vigor sort of fell off. There wasn't anything wrong with him. I don't think. And I know he was straight. But our ... our sex life mostly evaporated. Well, totally evaporated."

"You should have gotten a boyfriend."

"Oh, no ... I couldn't do that."

"That's what my mom said ... even after I promised to write her a note. Even after the old man left for the tropics with his boy toy. They were still married 'til the day she died. Fucking Catholics."

"You offered to write a note?" she asked with cocked eyebrow.

"I thought it might carry a little, you know .... It made sense to the sixteen-year-old me."

"I almost had an affair," she volunteered. His goofiness amused her and again made her want to open herself to him. "Well, a couple of times I almost did. But one time, I was to the hotel, up the elevator, and down the hallway. We'd planned everything in detail, even unto the un-biblical things we intended to do to one another's bodies."

"And, uh ... then I got to the door of the suite and didn't even break stride. I kept walking, hit the back stairway, and kept going. Didn't even go back to the elevator on the next floor. I walked down all seventeen flights, terrified the guy might come out looking for me. I cut through the kitchen and out a service entrance in back. No one in the kitchen seemed to notice my walk of shame. I suppose such sights are routine in LA hotels."

"I even took a cab home," she concluded in a tone so low it sounded like a grumble. "A friend's husband came by and picked my car up later. I told them I was having engine problems on the way past and just pulled into the hotel garage to have someplace to leave it."

"The CIA is looking to recruit people with that skill set," he said after a heavy pause.

"Shut up." Oddly, she felt good again and comfortable. No more boob and butt comments, she promised herself. It helped he wasn't too close. The wide console between the truck's seats was a blessing, sort of like one of those bed partitions the Amish use. Maybe I should get one of those, she pondered. Suddenly, she realized how irrational her thought process was becoming and shook her head.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said with a start.

"Why didn't you go through with it?"

"Huh?"

"The affair ... why didn't you cement the deal?"

"Oh ... I just couldn't." Thoughts of bundling boards completely receded. "I know there are good people in LA. I don't know many of them. But we're not all like that ... us Hollywood folk. As much as .... I just don't have it in me."

"But no one right now?"

"Ohhh ... I can't talk about that."

"No offers? I can't believe that."

"No, no ... there have been offers ... plenty of offers." She wasn't sure if she wanted to share, but, "Lots of guys and, um ... and a few gals ... when I went looking for work after Otto ... a few of whom I thought were friends." She hesitated even longer. "No real professional help or advice, at least not much. But, um ... I got some offers to go away for the weekend ... and some others, less savory."

The urge to continue overrode her good sense, but she braced herself and put on her most-convincing laugh.

"I even got an offer to do porn."

She thought his reaction might make her cringe. She expected pity—that was one thing she wasn't sure she could bear—but there was none. What she saw was a flash of anger in his eyes, a reaction she hadn't seen coming. It was gone in an instant, replaced by his normal, comforting gaze. But the look in his eyes had been so intense there was no mistaking it.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said flatly. There was an emotion to his voice that further soothed her.

"No. It was a guy Otto had worked with a number of times, someone I thought of as a family friend. He didn't encourage me ... per se ... it was just one of those 'I'm just laying it out on the table for you, honey' comments ... that actually was anything but."

Eli reached over and affectionately fed her a fry.

"I really did think I was a good judge of character," she went on, "but there was something in his tone when he made that offer. I never realized that man disliked me until then ... or how much he disliked Otto."

"You want me to find this guy?" he asked casually.

"And do what? ... make him an offer he can't refuse?" She laughed.

He just shrugged. For a moment, she pondered whether he was serious, but dismissed the thought. Revealing that embarrassing encounter to him had gone a small way toward exorcising it from her life. She was still angry and disappointed, but it wasn't worth thinking about further.

Instead, her thoughts turned again to Eli's mom, whose first name she didn't even know. She truly did feel a sense of solidarity with the woman, for more than one reason.

"It's different when you're a woman," she found herself saying. She reached over and snatched a fry from his lips as she spoke.

"What do you mean?"

It took a moment or three for her to form her thoughts. How could someone put such a thing in words? "You're a better story teller than me," she concluded.

"I don't believe that's true. Why don't you give it a try?"

It was nice that the partition was between them, but the smell of him so close was distracting. She leaned back in the thick leather seat, looking up at the sky through the roof, and thought.

"Otto cut quite the fine figure of a man when I met him. We were married for sixteen years, during which he pretty much let himself go to hell ... went gray, gained weight, started wheezing so much that his voice changed. His whole body and face shape changed. It even made him look shorter, though I know he wasn't. He gained so much weight he started having a hard time even moving around the house ... and in finding comfortable places to sit in public."

"But none of that affected his business or personal life. People still wanted to work with him, he still got invited to parties and developed projects and cut deals. His family still loved him and respected him ... at least as much as they ever did. His sex life wasn't what it had been, but his wife didn't leave him over it ... or cheat on him." Her last words were accompanied by a slight throat clearing.

"For a lot of guys, getting older and grayer, even getting less physically robust and attractive, is a sign of power, influence, even virility, as odd as that sounds. I'm not saying getting old doesn't bother some men, but we live in a society where men have everything ... and if their peckers aren't as hard as they used to be, they have so much to fall back on."

The truck had a high cab, and she propped herself up on the edge of her seat and did her utmost to do a graceful half turn, showing the best of her trim and flawless figure.

"This is my money-maker," she said. "I thought ... well, I thought at one point in my life it was different. After we married, I thought Otto and I were a team, and I helped him in every way I could, tried hard to understand the business and how it worked. After he passed away, I realized I was just ...."

"Eye candy?"

"Yeah," she whispered. "No. It was more complicated than that ... and I don't like feeling sorry for myself. My point is, I know there are lot of women who make their way in the world in business and finance, but no matter how successful a woman is, she will always be judged by her looks, even by other women ... especially by other women. You can fight against it, but it's like swimming against a rip-tide."

"Every woman born into our society has been taught, screamed at, bullied, and indoctrinated to value her youth and beauty above all else. She gets it at home growing up, she gets it at school, and she gets it from people like me ... well, more professionally successful versions of me. You said your mom worked?"

"Yeah."

"Full time? All the time?"

"No ... just part time, after I was in high school. I think she liked working out and having an excuse to get out of the house."

"And maybe wanted to stay fit and beautiful to keep her husband's attention?"

"Yeah, I think so," he said in a husky voice.

"Eli, I'm forty-two years old, and I know I look good. But this town says I'm past my sell-by date ... way past it. And I ... phew ... unwelcomed advances creep me out as much as anyone, but when someone you find attractive ...." She let out a slight groan and felt a tear form. "Please forget I just said that. I really am being self-pitying now. I won't point my boobs at you anymore."

"I never said I didn't like it."

She reached over and punched him twice in the shoulder.

"I'm trying to recover a little self-respect, here," she said with a weak laugh. "Help a sister out."

"I get what you're saying about mom," he said. "She was always very beautiful, and I don't think it meant as much to her as most women. She wasn't vain in that way. I don't think hitting forty sent her into despair, but I ... maybe it part of what wore her down ... that and the old man leaving."

And then he added hastily. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply you're vain."

She reached over and flipped an innocent lock of hair over his ear.

"No offense taken, buddy. But it's not about vanity. And it isn't just about growing old. It's ...," she began, but for a moment was lost for words. "It's about a woman spending her youth, a commodity on which society places a premium, supporting someone else and someone else's dreams, only to have everything she's worked for ripped away when she needs it the most. You're right. The whole getting older thing is just one part of it. I know it's just a fraction of the hell my life has been recently. If getting older was the only thing I had to deal with, I'd be a happy woman. I feel for your mom."

"Kate, I don't know if I've said it before, but I'm sorry things haven't been going your way. I wish there was something I could do."

"Elijah, my problems are almost entirely of my own making. You've been wonderful. Just be patient if I start bleating and feeling sorry for myself." She sat up. "And we should get going. It's late."

He fired the engine and headed the truck back in the direction of Kate's home in the Hollywood Hills. From the passenger seat, she thought of how nicely the evening had gone. But she still didn't know how to go forward. Over the last week, she had made every imaginable argument and counter-argument, debating back and forth whether she should continue seeing him.

That attraction she felt for Eli was growing, swelling each time she saw him, but as great as he was—and he genuinely was great—another disappointment in her life would be the end of her.

It just felt so good being with him. And what was the harm? He was mildly flirty but didn't honestly seem all that interested. Stop acting like a horny goat and just enjoy the fact someone likes spending time with you, screamed a voice from deep inside her. She didn't want to have sex with him anyway. Okay, probably not. So why worry because he's not ogling your boobs?

"Stop overthinking things," she finally scolded herself.

"Hmmm?"

"Oh, nothing. Hey, are you still driving up to San Luis on Friday?"

"I am? You wanna go? ... we'd have to leave early."

"I do. Otto left me some property out near Lompoc. If I can get hold of the estate agent, is there any way we could stop and take a look, either going up or coming back?"

"Absolutely. Just lemme know when this person is available. I'm happy to schedule around your meeting."

She reached over and touched his shoulder with a smile. It was there her hand remained until they reached her home, and he dropped her off.